#lets not talk about how i have 5 worse versions of this made okay

[talenlee]

3e: Monk Attacks

Have you ever encountered something where a system is evident but the language for discussing it isn’t?

Cast your mind back to the days of Dungeons & Dragons 3rd edition. No, not 3.5, the one that forms the basis for Pathfinder that people generally claim is ‘the good one’ before 4th edition (the best edition) came along. 3rd edition, the edition before 3.5, which is what it definitely was, was notable for being ‘the things people like about 3.5 D&D, but all quite a bit more shit.’

Know what was really bad in 3rd edition? Well, a lot of things, including Paladins, Rangers, Fighters, Barbarians, Bards, Half-Orcs, Half-Elves, Halflings and all but two melee weapons, but, in particular for this conversation, one class that was quite bad was the monk.

I won’t relitigate the whole story of how 3rd edition was a bad place to be a person whose primary job was punching things in the face. If you want to know more about that, I’ve written about it elsewhere, but just as an example, haste was a really stupidly powerful spell that made every melee character struggle to keep up. But if we cut off the top of the graph where all the spellcasters that are good (like the wizard, druid, and cleric) live, and focus just on the 3.0 Loser Brigade that do melee damage, even then in that space, the monk had some problems.

The way the monk worked is that the monk, limiting itself to melee attacks made with its fist or its collection of ‘exotic’ monk weapons, would get to attack more often, at lower accuracy. At level 1, instead of swinging a 2d6 greatsword, you could make two 1d6 attacks at -2, for… well, less likely to deal 2d6. But okay, you may think, the trade-off isn’t good at level 1, but what if the monk gets better, faster, than the fighter does?

Well, let’s assume that’s the case, and before we move on to talk about how badly that is implemented, that idea is a really bad one for the actual game. If a level 1 wizard, level 1 fighter, and level 1 monk all approach roughly equal threats knowing that some of them are just plain out worse at dealing with things, then you’ve got a balance problem. Being unfairly bad at level 1 doesn’t make being unfairly strong at level 16 okay, and vice versa. The notion that power ‘scales up’ in this non-linear way is one of the poisons 3e has had in it, because you run into a problem so obvious that it’s got a TVtropes page.

No I’m not going to link to it.

But here’s where things get really weird, when we talk about iterative attacks. Except I’m not sure the game rules call them ‘iterative’ – that’s game language that cropped up for sad dorks online. The way the rules worked is that you have a stat, universal for all characters, called a base attack bonus. When your base attack bonus passed a 5 threshold, you got another attack at -5, at the end, if you ever did a full attack. That means when your base attack bonus was 6, you could make two attacks, one at +6, one at +1.

Monks got a different version of this; they got to iterate their attacks when their Base Attack Bonus crossed the number 4. Since they got the medium Base Attack Bonus (which improves at a rate of three points every four levels), that meant that they got their second attack at level 6, just like a fighter, their third at level 10, one level before the fighter, their fourth at level 14, two levels before the fighter, and their fifth at level 18. Fighters never got a fifth attack (I know, I know, you in the back, you’re very clever, leave it for now). At level 18, the monk could be attacking for 6d20, whenever they make a full attack, with their flurry, and that sounds pretty cool!

And we’re going to set aside the gap between magical powers and weapon enchantments and things like bleeding weapons that monks can’t use and all that jazz, but the important thing here is this is all due to the way that the monk adds its base attack bonus. The rules, once you know that iterative attacks work by adding base attack bonus, are evident. Monks get their extra attacks at +4, so, hey, maybe you could push the monk to get more attacks, faster, if you mix monk levels with fighter levels? What does that do?

It does nothing.

Don’t get me wrong, there were some vague attempts to work on it – there was in the 3e book Sword and Fist, where a monk prestige class said some things about adding and it counting, and monk levels count, but the whole thing was written in a very confusing way. And like, the rules didn’t have a good formal way to say: Monks gain extra attacks for every 4 points of base attack bonus. Or A monk’s unarmed attack iterates at +4.

It was a weird thing where the game rules clearly had this complex rules operation, but also the game had no in-language way to refer to it. Like, the game doesn’t refer to as ‘points of base attack bonus’ or even ‘when your base attack bonus exceeds.’ It’s just something the game only represented on tables. And that means that it was very easy to work out how the rules worked, but the game rules then had a very hard time explaining how the rules worked to players. The way it wound up wording things for Monk Prestige Class is that monk prestige class levels stacked with monk class levels for determining bonus attacks, but not actually base attack bonus. So you had to always make sure you were taking levels in 4s, which was awkward and untidy.

Monks were helped quite a bit in the next edition, 3.5, where they had a smoother damage curve and more abilities and they were just a little bit less hooped by damage resistance and the like in general. It was a much needed improvement necessary to keep Monks as about as shitty as Barbarians and Fighters, and well away from being actually strong.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#DnD 3e #Dungeons & Dragons #Games

[homosexualtransexual]

okay i was thinking about this meme earlier and it really ground my gears bc its like... not true?

like first of all ik this is a little hyperbole and Not Exact but i still wanna talk about it a lil.

so like first of all the concept art i think this is based off is very early when elsa was the villain and looked a lot different to anna and anna looked the same but her silhouette was different

and it does look cool and i do love it but this doesn't fit the direction the film went it so they changed it.

and you wanna know what much later concept art looked like?

kinda exactly like the film. bc the concept art changes. and its the same for other disney films.

here's some tarzan early concept art vs the later ones

the beast looks like a completely different species here than the completely different species he is in the later ones.

and like ik the frozen one is more dramatic of a change but the point is they all change for reasons and so does the plot and the actors and the script and everything changes.

but also like idk if Frozen is the film you wanna go for when you're talking about boring character design. so lets go through elsa and anna's journeys (just frozen 1 bc its 3am and im tired i just can't sleep until i finish this rant).

so the first time we see elsa and anna are at 7 and 5 years old respectively. as you can see, they both wear clothes simmilar to clothes theyre gonna wear later in the film. elsas clothes, hair, and colour scheme are very similar to what she transforms into at the end of let it go: hair braided and a very simple light blue dress. anna's look reflects her at elsa's coronation: a green dress with her hair tied back.

if we look at elsa at her coronation, it's very different from what she wears from the rest of the film. it's still got shades of blue, but they're all much darker and it contains 2 colours she will never wear again in the enterity of the franchise, let alone the film: black and purple. it's also the only time that she wears something that covers her from neck to toe. in addition, her hair is pinned up. to me this represents her repression of her power at the fear that she can't use them or she'll hurt someone or worse: anna.

lets move on to what anna wears at the coronation. its like a final evolution of the same dress she's been wearing the whole time. this shows that she hasn't really had to repress and can continue being her true self at the coronation. im gonna move on quickly because theres something more exciting that happens to anna's look very quickly

SHE'S WEARING A MORE CORMFORTABLE AND SLIGHTLY BLUER VERSION OF ELSA'S CORONATION DRESS! AHHH I LOVE THIS DESIGN SO MUCH EVEN HER HAIR IS DOWN HOW CAN ANYONE HATE THIS FILM'S CHARACTER DESIGN.

okay lemme calm down

its like a tactic when you're finding someone to ask yourself "what what they do?" you put yourself in their shoes and try and see things from their point of view. anyways anna is doing that with her clothes and its might be my favourite costume from the films? she wants to find elsa and help her and isn't scared of elsa even so much that she wants to be her. it's just so good. anyways moving on

THIS iconic masterpiece. what the discourse is all about. like obviously it's less extravagant than the concept art but first of all the details? the snowflakes coming up from the dress? my girl just learned how to make dresses and already made a masterpiece with ICE! but then also this is representing her being someone who she couldn't have been since she was 7! imagine that! having to repress who you are, not being able to explore yourself and your abilities because you're scared it could hurt someone. and if elsa wasn't taught to be scared of her powers she wouldnt have tried to push anna way and freezing her heart and i just went far off topic.

but anyways this is like kinda why i hate this discourse bc yeah the original wouldve looked cooler but cooler doesnt mean better for the film and i also might have a small special interest in frozen who knows

#concept art #discourse #frozen #elsa #anna #long post #disney #character design

[lightupthemoon]

The Effect You Got On Me: From the Vault (No. 1)

No. 1: don't worry, darling, 'cause I'm here with you

No. 2 // No. 3 // No. 4 // No. 5 // No. 6 // No. 7 // No. 8 // No. 9 // No. 10

Summary: Drabble collection based on the events of The Effect You Got On Me

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader.

Song: Don't Worry by the 1975

Warnings: None for this one, just wholesome friendship. However, 18+ for future parts, minors DNI.

Word count: 1.7 K

Read on AO3 // PLAYLIST

Author's Note: Basically, I'll be posting drabbles that were meant to be part of the main story, so I'll give you context for each if needed. This one, specifically, was the first version I wrote for part 1, and it's a look into the friendship. If anyone wants to be tagged for this, lemme know. Enjoy!

"Fuck, I shouldn't be here." 

You sniffled and frantically rummaged through your bag, searching for the tiny mirror you always had with you. You brought it up to your face once you found it, seeing your messy reflection and trying to get the running mascara off your face with the back of your hand. At least your looks matched how you felt inside. You sighed, defeated, as you only made it worse. You looked back at the door, chewing on your lip, still deciding whether or not you should knock. 

You didn't even really know how you ended up there. You just knew you ran out of the coffee shop where the girl you loved broke your heart and you found yourself there, outside of Kate Bishop's apartment. While you and Kate were friendly, you weren’t that close. She was funny and easy to talk to and you enjoyed her company as much as her wild stories about all the trouble she'd get herself into, but she wasn't your best friend. There was no reason for you to be here and yet, here you were. Heartbroken, mascara running down your face, and knocking on her door. 

A bit of fumbling was heard on the other side, before a small "coming!" followed. It sounded a bit far, and you pondered how many seconds you had left to turn on your heels and walk away before she could see you.

Out of sight, out of mind, right? 

The door opened just as you were about to turn around and she looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, confusion written all over her ocean blue eyes. 

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Kate immediately asked, her expression softening as she took a good look at you. "What happened to you?" 

You regretted being there immediately. "God, Kate, I'm so sorry to bother you, I just—" I don't even know why I'm here. "You know what? I shouldn't have come, I'll let you be." 

You turned around and took a step towards the stairwell before you felt a hand wrap around your arm, pulling you back to where you were. 

"Don't be ridiculous, you're not bothering me. Come on in," Kate said, stepping aside to let you walk into her house. "I have pizza on the way." 

She didn't let go of her grip on you until you were sitting on her couch in front of a flat-screen TV playing some random sitcom on mute. By the looks of the books and notes spread across the coffee table, you could tell you had caught her studying for something. 

"Kate, I'm sure you are busy and I wouldn't want to—" 

"I told you, you're not bothering me. I needed a break anyway." Kate brushed it off as she walked to the kitchen area. "I'm gonna make you a cup of tea, alright?" 

You thanked her and sat quietly, looking around her loft apartment. You had only been there twice, once for a party during freshman year and the second time a few months before, when you had tagged along with America, your actual best friend, to pick her up for some sort of sporty tournament they were competing in. The place mainly remained untouched, with the exception of the very friendly golden retriever that had greeted you the last time you were there. 

"Where's your dog?" You asked looking back at her as she set two cups down on her kitchen counter. 

"He's on a date," she said with a little amused smile on her lips as she poured boiling water into the cups. She continued, "Yelena is convinced that her dog, Fanny, and Lucky have a lot of chemistry so she wanted to take them out together to the dog park to confirm her theory they are meant to be." She put a tea bag on each of the cups and let them sit for a moment, while she looked for something on a table at the far end of the loft. "She is keeping him for the night because, according to her, they need time to bond." 

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped your lips at the thought of two dogs in love. "That's adorable." 

"Yeah, she's been sending me a lot of pictures. I'll show you in a bit." 

Kate returned to her living room holding a cup in each hand and something under her right arm. She placed both mugs on the coffee table and sat on the couch facing you, sitting cross-legged on the cushions while she pulled whatever she was holding from under her arm. Up close, you could see it was makeup remover wipes.

"Now, she said, pulling one out of the container and carefully grabbing your chin to make you look at her. "Let me take care of this." 

You nodded, your breath getting caught in your throat as she gently dabbed the wipe across your face, getting rid of every trace of mascara she found, the tip of her tongue peeking out of a corner of her mouth in concentration. You just sat there, looking at her with silent gratitude. Maybe this was why you had come to her—America had always said Kate had a way of making everyone feel safe around her and right at that moment, you felt protected. 

"All done," she said after a while of comfortable silence around you with a prideful look on her face. 

"Thank you," you muttered and grabbed the cup of tea in front of you with both hands, letting its warmth fill you up. 

"Don't mention it," she replied, mirroring you and leaning back on the couch. "Wanna talk about it?" 

You sighed, finally remembering why you had ended up here in the first place. Kate looked at you expectantly, taking a sip of her tea as she waited for you to speak. Telling her why you had crashed her night was the least you could do, even if you didn't really want to. 

"Do you remember Sharon, my girlfriend?" You asked. Kate nodded. "She called me today saying we needed to talk and, long story short, she said she felt lost and needed to find herself outside of me, that she wasn't sure she felt the same way and—" your voice started breaking, tears threatening to fall again. "She broke up with me."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," Kate cooed, putting down her mug again and leaning forward to caress your arm up and down. "Can I give you a hug?" 

You put down your mug too and that was all the confirmation Kate needed to wrap her arms around you, holding you to her tightly while stroking your back soothingly. Her tenderness made you break down again, immediately sobbing on her shoulder, unable to contain yourself despite feeling embarrassed your friend was seeing you like this. Kate didn't seem to mind, never losing her hold on you while whispering softly "it's okay, you're going to be okay'' into your hair. 

"Is there something wrong with me, Kate? Why wasn't I enough?" the words escaped your lips unintentionally. The brunette pulled away just enough to hold your cheeks in her hands so you would look into her eyes. 

"Nothing's wrong with you, Y/N, some people are just dumb enough to not see what they have. She's going to regret letting you go, I promise you that." She was so reassuring and gentle that you almost believed her, even when your entire world had been shifted upside down. 

"I love her and she just–" 

"Oh, I know, dear, she sucks. You deserve so much better than that." 

Before any of you could say something else, Kate's phone started buzzing on the coffee table and she widened her eyes as if she had just remembered something, pulling away and leaning forward just enough to reach her phone. 

"Shit, I forgot…" She muttered mostly to herself, looking at the screen of her phone while scrunching up her nose and answering the call. "Hey, I'm so sorry, but something came up. Raincheck?" you saw a flash of annoyance appear in her eyes as she listened to whoever was on the other line, which wasn't noticeable at all when she spoke again. "I'll make it up to you, gorgeous, I promise. Gotta go, though, bye," she hung up the call and put her phone back on the table. She looked back at you. "Sorry about that." 

You cleared your throat and wiped the tears left on your face. "I interrupted something, didn't I?" You said, your first instinct being to get up and walk away. You stood up from the couch. "You had a date and I just barged in here without a warning and–" 

"Y/N, you didn't interrupt anything, I swear. Sit back down," she placed her hand on your arm, slightly pulling down on your sweater for you to sit again. She looked at you with soft reassuring eyes and after the night you had, you weren't going to fight it. “Come on, tell me what else happened.”

Falling into a comforting bubble of trust with Kate was easier than you ever thought it would be. She listened to you ramble on and on about your heartbreak, listening to every word out of your mouth as if it were the most important thing ever spoken. Not once did she make you feel judged, or like a burden. She was not shy with sharing her opinions about Sharon–which, truthfully, lined up with everything else your other friends had expressed before–but she didn’t dwell too much on it, clearly trying to not make you feel any worse. Soon enough, the conversation topic shifted and you were no longer crying. 

A soft knock on the door resonated across the room, making Kate stand up immediately. "That's probably the pizza. Here," she reached for her phone again, and handed it up to you, her text message conversation with Yelena on the screen. "Look at the pictures while I get it, be right back." 

You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped your lips as you saw the first picture, a selfie of the very excited blonde and the two dogs sitting in a park. You swiped to the left and a picture of Lucky and Fanny walking side by side came up, Yelena's hand holding the purple and red leashes while giving a thumbs up. The remaining pictures were just as adorable, both dogs either playing together or laying on the grass side by side while looking into the horizon. 

"Pretty cute, right?" Kate returned with a squared box in her hands, putting it on her small dining table near the stairs to her bedroom. "Come on, pizza is medicine for heartbreak, dig in." 

“Thank you, Kate.”

“No need to thank me. That’s what friends are for, right?”

TAGLIST: @sunshadesnrainbowz @imlike-so-gaydude @hopingforromanoff @ittynyte

#Kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x you #marvel fanfiction #kate bishop fluff #hawkeye series #hawkeye #writing #the effect you got on me

[dankfarrikfifi]

An End and a Beginning

Pt.5 of Some Version of You, 3.3k

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ only, angst, reader’s dad is an asshole, discussions of divorce, discussions of an unhappy marriage, internal conflict, anxiety, lots of questioning things, mentions of losing a home, lmk if I missed anything!

You have a tough conversation with your mom, and an even worse one with your dad after, and Frankie is always there for you.

In the six months that you and Frankie have been together, you’ve come to realize how much you were missing in life before meeting him. You take turns staying at each other’s houses, spending more time together than not. You went on the best dates you’ve ever experienced, eating his delicious cooking and enjoying each other’s company. He made you happier than you thought a partner could, despite that little voice in your head that said you were getting attached a little too fast. How could you not, though? Frankie was the epitome of the person you’ve always dreamt of being with, and now that you have him in your life, you aren’t keen on letting go.

You find yourself daydreaming during your cafe shifts about your future, and in every vision you see Frankie. A life together, with the man of your dreams. A part of you was honestly startled by it, but it was usually outnumbered by the parts of you that basked in his presence. And that didn’t bother you one bit. Until your mother calls on a random Tuesday that, in your mind, holds no significance.

“You know it’s our anniversary right?” she asks you mid-conversation, and your breath catches for a minute.

“Like your and dad’s anniversary?” you question, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic from what meals you and Frankie had made earlier in the week.

“Yup,” Is your mom’s simple response.

”Wow, I didn’t even know that, I’m sorry,” you apologize sincerely. You know how your mom still aches from their divorce, and you do feel guilty knowing you had forgotten a day that had once held so much significance for her.

”It’s okay sweetie,” your mom assures you, “I didn’t expect you to remember, it’s been a long time since any of us celebrated it. Just made me think, did you know that this year we’ve been apart for as long as we were together? I just can’t reconcile with that for some reason.”

She trails off and you’re honestly not sure what to respond with. Your parents have been divorced since you were eight, and at that point their relationship had devolved to the point that you couldn’t imagine them being in love at any point. In fact, you honestly never understand what brought them together in the first place, given the animosity you had experienced. The silence is only a little awkward.

”Oh sweetie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out,” your mom rushes out, “I just couldn’t help thinking of it, you know the way you talk about Frankie? I used to talk about your dad like that to my mom. I definitely want to meet him, it sounds like you really like him!”

The conversation picks back up, but you find yourself suddenly unable to pay attention, the words your mom had spoken are the only things you can focus on. The way you talk about Frankie reminding her of your dad? Nothing could scare you more than that. You chat for a while longer before letting your mom know it’s time to go to work. It’s not 100% a lie, your shift starts in two hours so you have to start getting ready at some point, but really you just need some time to think.

You’re midway getting dressed for work, completely lost in your own thoughts, when you notice Benny standing in the doorway of your bedroom.

”Jesus, Ben,” you yelp, “How long have you been standing there?”

”I’ve been trying to get your attention for like a minute, weirdo, what’s up with you?” he questions, stepping forward to pull you into a hug. You didn’t know how bad you needed it till now.

”I don’t know,” you murmur into his chest, finding comfort in the arms of your best friend, “I talked to mom and she said something that just made me, I don’t know, start to overthink.”

“What did she say?” He pulls away a bit to sit the two of you on the edge of your bed. You lean your head on his shoulder and start talking, suddenly unable to stop.

“She was talking about how it’s her and my dad’s anniversary today, and she said the way I talk about Frankie reminded her of them and I just, I don’t know it freaked me out,” you find yourself becoming a bit misty eyed as you speak, “I never knew my parents being happy in their marriage. They were always bickering and wouldn’t talk for days on end. I’m worried about Frankie and I, I don’t know, burning out? Ending up like them?”

Benny pulls you tighter against him, resting his own head on top of yours. He lets you rant for a while, spilling your guts out until you realize you have to leave for work in a few minutes. You wipe your eyes, pulling back to look up at Benny, who hasn’t said much. You raise your eyebrow, encouraging him to speak.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he admits, “All I can say is you gotta do what’s best for you, and if you’re legitimately worried, why don’t you talk to Frankie?”

”What would I even say?” you ask, an edge to your voice that you just can’t help, “I can’t just go up to him and say we have to break up because my parents are divorced. Plenty of people’s parents are divorced, and they can have happy lives. Why can’t I?”

You’re winding yourself up, you can tell, so you take a few deep breaths. Benny is looking at you, a look you can’t quite decipher on his face. Before he can speak, you turn around to grab your flannel.

“I gotta get to work, I’ll see you later,” you smile at him, or at least attempt to, and shuffle down the stairs and out the door.

———————————————————————

Dinner at mine or your’s tonight?

You’ve been staring at the text from Frankie for at least 10 minutes now, completely frozen. How could you talk to him about all that’s been going through your head today without making your worries known? You aren’t ready to approach that yet, so you set your phone down and start your closing duties. By the time you finish, you feel like you can’t ignore him any longer without being an asshole.

Sorry, not feeling good tonight :( maybe we can reschedule?

You’ve barely hit send before a response comes through. It warms your heart for a moment, before the tight grip of anxiety takes over again.

I’m sorry. Is there anything you need?

You let it sit again on your drive home, and you’re just pulling in the driveway when your phone rings.

“Hey pretty girl,” Frankie’s voice is soft, and you find it bringing you comfort, “Are you okay?”

You clear your throat before answering, a nervous tick you both seem to share.

”Uh, hey, sorry I was driving home from work,” you tell him, your voice weak, “I just, I’ve had a bad day.”

”I’m sorry, hermosa, anything I can do?” his unwavering kindness almost breaks through the wall you were quickly building.

“I, I don’t know,” you say honestly, “I’ve just got a lot on my mind from my mom today.”

”Are you okay? You know I’m here for you, right? Anything you need.”

”I think I need some time to think,” you blurt out, and you can feel your heart drop through your stomach, “My mom she just, she gave me a lot to think about that I can’t get out of my head and I just, I don’t know what I want to do right now.”

Frankie takes a second to respond, just long enough for your brain to start panicking.

“When you say you need to think, do you mean about us? What did your mom say?”

”I think so,” you almost whisper, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, “She told me that we remind her of her and my dad when they were young, and I don’t know if I could handle us turning out the same way they did.”

He takes another second, letting out a deep sigh. You’re starting to truly cry, and you know he can hear it.

”I can see where you’re coming from, but also, we aren’t your parents, are we?” His voice is still soft, but you can also hear an ounce of pain in it, “I, I’m gonna let you think for a while, just know that I really care about you, like a lot, and I hope you know that.”

You sniffle, taking a deep breath.

”Ok, I know, I just, I need a bit,” you mutter, trying not to show how upset you are, “Thank you for listening, I’ll talk to you soon.”

He bids you a gentle goodbye, and before long it’s just you sitting in the silence of your car. You take a moment to compose yourself, not wanting Benny to see you so miserable. After some deep breaths, you trudge inside, not taking note of the fact that the car in your driveway is not Benny’s.

——————————————————————

You’re midway through untying your shoes when you hear someone clearing their throat. You jump, startled by the sudden voice of someone that is not your roommate. Rising to your feet and turning around, you come face to face with the last person you need to see today.

”Hello,” your dad greets with his usual formality, “Took you long enough to get back.”

You swallow harshly, completely taken aback by the fact that your father is standing in front of you, in your house, your safe space. His presence was never one of comfort, reminding you of days he had yelled at you for leaving your shoes out when you were six, nights of being lectured over and over.

“Hi, dad,” you can’t help it when your voice cracks a little, still reeling from the conversation you had with Frankie. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”

”I came here to talk to you, and hopefully Benjamin, but I don’t see him and this can’t wait.”

You start to panic, these talks with your dad always ending in a fight, or tears, or both. And yet, you nod and lead him further into the house. You offer him a glass of water, which he declines, and you soon find yourself sitting at your kitchen table with your father staring you down. It feels so odd, having him here in what, for the last three years, had been your own home.

“I have been graciously allowing you to stay in this house for quite a while,” he jumps right in, and his tone has your throat tightening, “But, my father left this house to me when he passed, not you, and it would make a very lucrative piece of property.”

”Are you saying-“ you start, but your dad holds up his hand with a severe glint in his eye. You stop immediately.

“What I’m saying,” he resumes, his tone suddenly harsh, “Is that I am no longer allowing you to live in this house”

Your mind goes blank, ears ringing as you try to process what he just said. You blink a few times, staring at him wide-eyed. He stares right back and doesn’t back down.

”Do you understand what I’m telling you?” he pushes, and you shake your head on instinct, trying to pull yourself out of whatever nightmare you’ve found yourself in. ”Then let me make it clear. This is my house, and it will now be treated as such. No more handouts, I am done furnishing your inactivity.You and Benjamin have two weeks to vacate before I take legal action.”

With that, he stands and leaves the house without another word. You’re still sitting in the dining room when Benny walks in 20 minutes later, staring at the wood grain of the table. The table that you’ve built memories on, sharing breakfast with your best friend, writing stories while Will cooks. You even think about the time Frankie had propped you on the edge of this table while devouring your mouth with his own.

You’re torn from your thoughts by Benny’s hand patting your shoulder as he passes. When you don’t respond, continuing to stare at the table and run your fingers over it, he calls your name, placing his face in your eye line. You can’t help it when you burst into tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling you into his arms as you sob, “Seriously bud, what’s going on?”

You take some shuddering breaths before explaining the conversation you had just had. Benny goes stiff against you, pulling you closer as you talk. You can feel him breathing shallowly, and you think he’s freaking out just as much as you are. Finally, he pulls back to look you in the eyes. For just a moment, you think he’s mad at you. And then he starts talking.

“Fuck that guy,” he spits, suddenly standing up to pace, “No, seriously, fuck him. Who cares if he takes the house away? We’ll find another place, we’ll find a new home, but him? He’s always gonna be a bitter asshole!”

You let him rant for a moment, resting your head in your hands. You understand that he’s upset, and that this is how Benny usually processes his anger, but you just feel numb. You’re upset, for sure, but no expression of that upset feels appropriate. In fact, there’s only one thing you want to do. You silently excuse yourself to the backyard, plopping down onto your hammock, facing away from the house. You send a single text before throwing your phone on the ground in frustration.

You rest your head back, staring up at the sky with one foot planted on the ground, rocking yourself back and forth. You’re lost in thought, or more lack thereof, when a shadow crosses over you. You barely blink when Frankie eases himself into the spot next to you. Without saying anything, he takes over the rocking for you as you curl into a little ball against his side. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer as your shoulders shake a bit with your sniffles.

“It’s gonna be ok,” he murmurs, hand soothing down your back. You can’t help but feel immediately soothed by his presence, your heartbeat slowing and your breath evening out. You mumble something into his chest, but he hums and pulls you away to better hear you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice hoarse. “I thought, I don’t know why I thought we would end up like them, but I know, I know for sure now that we won’t and I know that-”

You’re rambling, and he lets you, until you’re out of words and just breathing him in. You can feel yourself growing calmer, the intense rush of emotions finally easing its grip on you. You lift your head and meet Frankie’s gaze. He’s already looking at you, his eyes soft. He waits for you to talk first.

“My dad is a bad person,” he looks a little startled by your opening line, “he’s a dick with no emotions and I don’t know how anyone could ever love him. You? You’re a good person, you’d never treat me the way he treated my mom, you’d never do what he’s doing to his kid. We’re not my parents, and I’m sorry for even suggesting that.”

”You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, hermosa,” his hand lifts to smooth across your brow, your eyes sliding shut at the comforting motion, “I want you to be happy, and comfortable, and if you needed to make sure that’s how you feel, I’m happy to let you take the time to think.”

You smile, a soft curve of your lips that sets his heart alight. He pulls you closer into him, until you’re practically on top of his warm chest. You tilt your head up to face him, brushing a strand of his hair away from his forehead.

“I did need time to think,” you whisper against his lips, “But I know now, I’m happy and comfortable when I’m with you. I want to be with you.”

He presses his mouth firmly against yours and you return the kiss with fervor. The two of you sit together, content to breathe each other in for the moment. You’re pulled away from the kiss by the voices of the boys filtering out from the back door. It’s only then that you realize how cold you are, the February air biting at your cheeks despite Frankie’s warmth.

“I want to stay here, with you, forever,” you murmur, lips gently brushing his, “But I’m freezing my ass off, and we have to start packing.”

He lifts you in his arms, a surprised laugh bursting from your lips as you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you inside, plopping the two of you onto the love seat, joining Benny, Will, and Santi in the living room. There are already drinks on the table, and you happily help yourself to one, sipping it slowly and leaning against Frankie.

The five of you chat, sharing your favorite memories of the house. It feels like you’re ending a chapter of your life that you weren’t quite prepared for but you try to look at the positive side of things. An end of one chapter, yes, but, you hope, the beginning of a whole new story.

—---------------------------------------------------

Two weeks. How is one supposed to take all their earthly possessions, say goodbye to their home, and find a new one, all in two weeks? This was a question you were quickly finding the answer to, which is that it’s next to impossible. Every box filled brings a wave of emotion, of memories. The worst of all? The search for a new house. Will had offered to let you and Benny split the guest room, but it was far from a permanent solution. And then, finally, a solution presents itself.

You’re packing your bedroom, the last hurdle to reach the end of this arduous process. Frankie is helping with your clothes, folding and putting them in a box as you pull them from your dresser. You’re working in a comfortable silence, broken only by his humming of whatever song comes on. It’s been like this for at least an hour, little to no talking as you pack and pack and pack. So you’re a bit startled when Frankie speaks.

“So, when are we talking about you moving in with me?” he asks you, still focusing on folding an old pajama shirt. He looks up at you and sees the surprised look on your face before continuing. “I mean, that is what’s happening, right? I just kind of assumed but…”

He trails off, and you’re still staring at him. He has just a moment to reconsider his question before you beam at him, the type of smile that lights up your entire face.

“Well, took you long enough to ask, jeez,” you joke, resuming the task at hand as if you hadn’t just made a huge decision with your boyfriend, “I mean, you really think I can live with not one, but two Miller boys, and remain sane?”

He laughs, a boisterous noise that warms you from the inside. He pulls you to him, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips before the two of you pick up your packing at a renewed pace. You chance a glance at him, watching as he carefully folds your clothes, preparing to move you into his home. A sense of intense content spreads through your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt before consuming you. You start to realize that, despite the fact you’re losing the building you had lived in, you were gaining something much more important. Because with Frankie, you know you’ll always feel at home.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #my writing #writing #frankie loml #some version of you #pedro pascal fan fiction #frankie

[the-one-where-casey-watches-tv]

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel episode 5.09 "Four Minutes"

Rachel Brosnahan in "Four Minutes". Image courtesy of IMDb.

I guess Amy Sherman-Palladino still hasn’t figured out how to end a show. I’ll admit that I’ve watched every episode and felt entertained, but I never fully embraced Maisel. I’m hard on it because it had so much potential and was always right there on the edge of being a landmark in tv- it just didn’t have that last little oomph. But even among the avid fans that I’ve talked to, I haven’t heard from anyone who appreciated the way this story ends.

Before I get to the wild things that happened in season 5, I just have to say- I never liked Midge. That’s really my only problem with the show, but it’s a big one. Maisel did so much telling rather than showing in that regard: they didn’t make her likable, they told me that people liked her. I’m supposed to be charmed by her the way everyone else is, but more often than not, I’m pulled out of the moment wondering how she’s suddenly somehow won people over. Most of all, though, I don’t think she’s that funny.

Rachel Brosnahan in "Four Minutes". Image courtesy of IMDb.

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is hilarious. Sherman-Palladino knows how to make a beautiful, colorful, bustling setting full of quaint and funny people who talk back and forth very quickly. With those strengths, I have to wonder what inspired a premise centered around a career of stationary monologues. The show made me laugh out loud countless times, just never at one of Midge’s jokes. So frequently Midge would force her way onstage, royally pissing people off in the process, but suddenly everyone loves her act so much- or worse, just thinks she’s so pretty- that all is forgiven. An act that I didn’t even laugh at.

The show has an obviously feminist premise, but its execution here too leaves me feeling like the only takeaway there is “women can do anything they want!! No matter how good they are at it or how they treat people along the way!! If they make a mess, a man will be possessively in love with her and toxically sacrifice himself to make it all okay. As long as she’s pretty.”

So this is already the headspace I went into season 5 with, and its ultimate conclusion really doubled down that sentiment for me. The setup for this season has Midge working as the only female writer on America’s number one talk show, the Gordon Ford show. Gordon is a new character, but I warmed up to him quickly. He’s chill, surprising, and funny- actually funny. Midge isn’t intimidated by him because has she ever been? She’s demeaned at having to be a writer and not “talent”, but she’s gonna grin and bear it. A job plenty of ladies (me included) would kill for, and that she’s breaking the glass ceiling by having. But she’s slumming it.

Midge’s privilege is another roadblock to her likability. Not necessarily the fact that she has it financially, which I am glad this season touched on, but it’s the attitude she has about it. All the Weissmans have lavish class privilege, and this season used Zelda’s quitting to gently poke fun at their helplessness, but Rose and Abe at least have an awareness and sense of gratitude for the help they receive. Abe’s journey of self-awareness throughout this season was incredibly moving and heartfelt, and the way he beat himself up over the most minute of mistakes at his newspaper job really highlights the lack of those qualities in Midge.

Let’s address the elephant in the room: the chronologically confusing time jumps revealing the demise of Midge and Susie’s friendship and business partnership. God, I feel so bad for Susie. There’s a Friends blooper where David Schwimmer just bursts out laughing and goes, “poor Ross”. I would be amazed if Alex Borstein hasn’t had a similar experience.

Alex Borstein and Rachel Brosnahan in "Four Minutes". Image courtesy of IMDb.

Here’s the quick version of what happened over these 9 episodes: Susie’s been in bed with the mob since before this season- I was honestly thrown for a loop when they became such an important part of this season, they’ve always been surprisingly sweet, funny, and helpful. Nonetheless, they asked Susie for the favor of having Midge star in a musical about the waste department. See? Sweet and funny. It was significant, though, because Susie thought this would make her square with Frank and Nicky. As in, no more getting a cut of her and Midge’s profits. But Midge looked down on the whole trash gig thing and phoned in her performance when the rest of her life wasn’t going the way she wanted. This sparked a conversation between Susie, Frank, and Nicky that Joel observed from afar. Susie tried to promise that Midge would step up her game so they could all part ways, causing Frank and Nicky to explain that there was no “getting even”. Susie always thought she owed them a favor that one day she would repay and wash her hands of the whole thing, but Midge’s poor attitude only revealed that even if they had done everything perfectly, there was no getting out from under them.

Joel didn’t hear the conversation, but somehow he put the whole thing together really quickly, getting in Susie’s face and saying that he won’t stand for Midge being caught up with guys like that, because he’s very familiar with them. I really don’t know when Joel became such a hard-ass or got all of this mob experience. Susie tells him that she’s got it all under control- maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t- we’ll never find out, because Joel takes it upon himself to meet with Frank and Nicky and fall on the sword to protect Midge. He lets the mob in on his club business, mixing their books as he begins to buy more clubs. Midge never has any idea until his eventual arrest, in Temple no less, where he’s put away for the entire mob operation. Midge doesn’t hesitate to cut Susie off and stay by Joel’s side, religiously visiting him in prison during decades worth of time jumps.

I hate all of this for a few reasons. It really just feels like Joel felt he had to find a way to keep himself relevant in this story and in Midge’s life, and it’s so disappointing to me that this works on Midge. Before all this, Midge and Joel had a really mature and endearing post-divorce friendship. It’s hard to say if Mei’s abrupt departure at the end of season 4 was a logistical hurdle for the show or a creative choice to free Joel up to do this, but regardless, this was an unwanted replacement for a fleshed-out relationship between Joel and Mei, whose story still feels unfinished. And his weirdly intense speech to Midge on the fire escape about not letting anyone hurt a hair on her head? I’ve never seen a not creepy use of that phrase, so I don’t know what to make of Midge eating it up. This all really undermines the respectful, minding-their-own-business nature of their progressive relationship. I think if someone had said at the end of season one that this show ends with Joel’s relentless love for Midge disseminating her friendship with Susie, we would have all thought that was very off-message.

Not to mention, as all of this unfolds, we’re also treated to a glimpse of everything Susie did for Midge over the years of their partnership. When Midge got cold feet the night before a destination wedding because he didn’t make her laugh, Susie tried to put her foot down and set some workplace boundaries- this has nothing to do with Midge’s career, Susie has no obligation to untangle the mess Midge has made of her own personal life. But Midge bursts into tears, and of course Susie makes it all okay.

But the biggest catalyst of emotions boiling under the surface comes from Gordon Ford’s wife. I don’t think Susie’s sexuality was a mystery to anyone, but we’d never talked about it before Hedy. Susie was clearly deeply wounded by her, and even though she’s not one to spill her life’s story, that much is clear. Nonetheless, when Midge finds out that Susie knows her personally, she aggressively pushes Susie to talk to her about getting Midge on the Gordon Ford show. Susie is extremely hesitant, leading Midge to say that whatever is holding her back, if Susie doesn’t do this for her, then Midge will know that her manager didn’t do everything she could for her.

With the context of everything Susie has ever done for Midge, this is such a slap in the face. Add in the heavy hinting that Susie is in love with Midge, and the whole thing just makes me sad for her. The lesbian sidekick being in love with the straight main character is so tired to me. But of course, Susie talks to Hedy, and of course she pulls it off. Once Susie’s done what she wanted her to do, Midge softens and convinces her to talk about what happened between her and Hedy. Then, Midge says if she had known she would never have pressured Susie to talk to her. As if there was no way of initiating this conversation sooner.

Alex Borstein in "Four Minutes". Image courtesy of IMDb.

So for Midge to not even hesitate to turn on Susie after Joel’s arrest, something he brought entirely on himself against Susie’s wants and pleas, is so blatantly cruel that I almost wonder if Midge isn’t even supposed to be the hero of this story.

This brings us to the title of this episode and Midge’s tendency to act like- and be treated like- her showing up is God’s gift to whatever room she’s in. Susie talked to Hedy, Hedy talked to Gordon, Gordon begrudgingly broke his longstanding rule to not have staff members on the show. But, if he’s gonna do it, his frail ego is going to do it his way (remember when he started a bar fight with Hank Azaria for wanting Midge to work for him? He was being ‘noble’ because clearly Azaria’s Danny Stevens is just attracted to her. Gordon won’t let her be on the show but also won’t let her work anywhere else, how protective and helpful!).

It’s moments before the show when Midge and Susie learn that Midge will appear on the show, but not as a comic- rather, she will be interviewed by Gordon as a writer on the show, a human-interest piece. Midge is to sit on a stool, rather than the respectable couch the ‘real’ guests get to sit on. Even in this Gordon is seething and throws the show to commercial only seconds into the segment. There’s still “Four Minutes” to fill when they come back, tensions are high, and Gordon is as unhappy as someone can be on national TV.

I’ll give Midge credit for getting Susie’s blessing before she does this. I don’t even blame her for doing it, to be honest. The Gordon Ford show returns from commercial and Midge steps over Gordon’s return to the segment, walking up to the mic and doing four minutes of standup while Mike and Susie do everything they can off camera to keep Gordon in his chair.

I’m the petty bitch that counted, but if you’re literally gonna call the series finale “Four Minutes” I’d like to think it would actually be four minutes. She talked for almost ten. I believe in the universe of the show it really was just four minutes (even Midge Maisel can’t eat into somebody else’s primetime air), but to me this confirms Sherman-Palladino’s disconnectedness to standup itself as an art form. They call it a ‘tight five’ because it’s hard to do, and I was actually really interested to see what Midge could pull off in that amount of time.

I’ll admit that it was one of her better sets, but certainly not something of the caliber that warranted a complete 180 in Gordon Ford. He laughs out loud as she talks, and when she’s done, he invites her onto the couch, reintroducing her as a comic, the marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Why is she even still using Joel’s last name? I digress.

Reid Scott in "Four Minutes". Image courtesy of IMDb.

With some comparable behavior, Midge and Susie do ultimately repair their friendship. Susie, later in life, is an ultra-successful talent manager, repping the biggest names in entertainment and becoming something of a celebrity herself. Her falling out with Midge, though, is the elephant in every room she’s in. There’s a roast for Susie in one of the bigger flash forwards, with everyone she cares about there to good-naturedly poke fun at her. Everyone except Midge, which all the guests speculate about throughout the event. Then, at the end, a screen descends from the ceiling, and a recorded video of Midge plays. It sounds like she’s ready to make amends with Susie and see her again, and Susie, of course, is tripping over herself to find her way to her. After everything Susie did for her, Midge is the bigger person? The hero? Just for showing up? Again, I digress.

The series closes on the two of them watching Jeopardy! together over the phone, chatting and laughing, hard, something that’s always been important to Midge in the people she keeps close. And this time, Midge really is funny. She’s at her best when she’s interacting with people. It’s a really sweet scene and I’m happy to see the show end this way. I just wasn’t able to enjoy it as much as I would’ve liked after everything that happened to get us there.

What did you think? Do you see a different side of Midge than I do? Was Susie more wrong and Joel more right than I think they are? Does Midge’s standup make you laugh? Let me know!

#the marvelous mrs maisel #midge maisel #joel maisel #susie myerson #alex borstein #rachel brosnahan #tony shalhoub #abe weissman #tv #tv review #tv criticism #amy sherman palladino

[pan-fried-autism]

We would like to hear your thoughts on animation and capitalism

its mostly about animation BUUUTTTTT

on one of the last days of 9th grade, me and two friends somehow got into a conversation about how far strawberry shortcake has fallen.

like, for one, 75% of the characters were gone. there were like 5 characters remaining by 2018. we joked they were just dead. and the designs were getting much more mediocre and or bad, and were rarely actually good anymore.

lets look at the history of the designs, actually. shall we?

I want to not beforehand, she apparently existed as far back as 1973, but i cant actually find ay good pictures of it :(

Back in the 80s, long before I was born, she and her friends were mostly used in greeting cards. I think the character designs match this pretty well! Even back then they had cute yet creative designs, like PERFECT for greeting cards. They look like they would greet you as they ride their bikes to school in the morning. They look like they help their parents pick the best apples to use in a pie. I'd say its all a solid 8/10. i like strawberrys design the most tbh

she also had a tv series and there were actually more characters but this picture had the most

In the 90s I guess strawberry got a redesign? cant find any other info about other characters lol

this one is like a 7.5/10. only cuz theres like a LITTLE less personality

and heres my favourite! 2003!

This was one of the ones I grew up watching, besides the godforsaken Version That Will Be Named Later. Already you can see that these are pretty good. Look at that variety! The personality! Literally the only thing samey about them is the faces, but tbh that doesnt matter too much. The only one I feel is medicore is Huckleberry Pie because he looks like most of the guys at my school now.

This one? Like a 9/10 probably.

Heres 2007, with bits of redesigning!

Apple Dumplin (the shorter one) grew up a little, Huckleberry looks worse and now just looks like every guy in my neighbourhood, but other than that not THAT much of a difference, besides some hair style changes.

7.5/10 purely for Huckleberry (sorry ]:)

(Addendum: Strawberry got another design in 2005 but i wont talk about it. its a 7.75/10)

And now... we've arrived. 2009.

Prepare yourselves.

Jesus Christ, where do I begin?

First, let's tackle this new evolved form of Same Face Syndrome. You know how back in previous years they had very similiar facial features but it didnt really matter that much? This is just Same Goddamn Character syndrome. Literally they all look the same. Long hair, sleeved shirt, skirt, stripped leggings, shoes, headwear/hair accesory, with some minor aditions to set them apart in some way. There is no personality. Just sameness.

Second, their age appearance. They are supposed to be kids. They portrayed this well before now. The oldest she was back then was 16, and that was because there was a time skip during the 2003 series. Here? They are supposed to be 17-19. And I don't know why. It's weird to me. I didn't notice this as a kid tho because i was like preschool age when the 2009 series came out. Tbh it WOULD be okay for me now if they didn't look like Swifties or whatever. I want kid them back.

My third problem is what they did to the character Orange Blossom, but to talk about that would require a bit more detail into her own character design history, which I kinda wanna get into on its own post, so I'll just get into my fourth problem: the worsenning of Huckleberry.

I don't even know who or what he looks like. He's just some fucking teenager. His design tells me NOTHING about him at all.

2/10.

2017 series that IDK anything about, or even if it was made in the first place. There was a 2018 series too but considering it was just the 2D version of the 2009 one I choose to ignore it.

This one, despite looking kinda generic, is an upgrade from the 2009 "series". Everyone still has like the same body type, but they also have different hair and clothing! You actually have an idea of what they may be like! They also temporarily killed Huckleberry Pie and ended his eternal torment in design hell.

6/10 from me.

We have reached the final stage.

This one is the 2021 Netflix(?) series. I don't know anything about it and only recently heard of it. It's a small upgrade from 2017, but an upgrade nonetheless.

They, for once, have different face shapes. Secondly, theres more variety to the clothes again! Huckleberry Pie (guy who kinda looks like Five Glitch Techs) finally has a decent character design. The only one I don't like is Sour Grapes, the purple haired girl with the white shirt. She realy does look like someones niece Ashley tbh.

6.5/10.

And that's all! I wanna tackle the character design histories of just one person, mainly Orange Blossom and Plum Pudding (and possibly Strawberry herself) but that's too much to tackle in one post so I'll leave it here for now and make separate posts about them at a later date.

In summary, Strawberry Shortcake started out with good characters designs that got better as time went on, until 2009 when they went downhill on a 75 degree angle, but they seem to be coming back.

#strawberry shortcake #long post #rey answers asks #character design #character design discussion

[pandoradoesotherstuff]

Unexpected...

-------------------------------------

A/N: My other half played through Metal Gear Solid 5 for the first time and now I'm a little obsessed with cowboy Ocelot. 🤦😂

Anyway I tried my hand at writing a few scenes for him, I hope they're okay!

Enjoy. ❤️

-------------------------------------

Ocelot grits his teeth as he sees you of all people step off of the helicopter at Motherbase. If it was up to him he'd never have contacted you in the first place but sadly it wasn't up to him, it was up to Big Boss and he'd insisted that you be brought along. Said you had the contacts and top secret intelligence needed to complete his current mission.

As much as he hated to admit it Ocelot had no doubt about that. You were a mercenary of sorts, except you bought and sold information, sulking around the darkest dankest corners of the globe, contacts in bad places and friends in worse still. But just because you could be useful didn't mean that you should be there at all.

Miller nudged him as you made your way over to them but the dark look Ocelot gave him kept Miller quiet. Even he had his limits.

"Adamska, long time no...see". Your eyes slowly look him up and down, lips curling up into that smirk he'd grown to hate.

"That's Ocelot to the likes of you". His voice is dangerous and low, southern twang growing stronger with his irritation.

"We'll see".

Miller snorts as Ocelot rolls his eyes, turning his back on you already but red gloved hands hovering close to his beloved revolvers. Just incase.

You watch the tall straight back of Adamska disappear into an office a little ways off.

"How long do you think it'll be before he takes a shot at me?" You grin at Miller.

"I'd give it another five minutes at least".

* * * * *

Ocelot stands on one of the upper decks of Motherbase, sea breeze blowing gently as the sun starts to sink below the horizon, arms folded across his chest, steely eyes focused on the scene below.

You were tussling with one of the recruits, practising your own version of CQC while a group of them watched. It seemed like the recruit had the upper hand, their arm wrapped around your throat trying to choke you out. Despite himself he smiles just a little. He'd seen you escape countless times, it was only a matter of time.

"Three...two...one..." He counts under his breath. Then it happens. You stop trying to pry their arm away and instead poke them hard in the eyes. He can hear the recruit yelp from his high position.

You then elbow the recruit as hard as you can causing them to finally let go but you don't stop there. You grab their arm again, using your body weight to pull the recruit to the floor along with yourself, your thighs wrap around their head and neck in a vice like grip, arms held by your own so they were now trapped.

Ocelot's stomach twists a little, unwanted memoires of the past flooding his mind like a tsunami. He'd been in a similar position more than a few times with you himself albeit doing something very different. As much as he hates to admit it and god knows wild horses couldn't drag the confession out of him, he still remembered every thing about you. The way your lips tasted in the rain, the feel of your skin on his, your thighs wrapped around his head as your voice grew more frantic and-

-No!

That was enough of a trip down memory lane for one day.

The sea breeze felt good on his slightly flushed skin just then as he looks back down again. You had finally let go of the recruit, kneeling next to them as they tried to catch their breath, you patting them maybe a little condescendingly on the shoulder.

Ocelot adjusts his trousers trying to ignore the slight tightness in them as you and the group of recruits disappear into the dining hall. For a second he thinks about going down there by "weird coinsidence" so he could keep an eye on you but if Miller ever found out he'd never hear the damn end of it.

"When are you going to get the balls to talk to them finally?" The very man himself says from his left. Ocelot draws out his revolver with a quick flip and points it straight between the other man's sunglass covered eyes.

"Not. Another. Word".

* * * * *

Ocelot's stomach drops as he sees you in Big Boss's arms. Your pallor was deathly pale, bandages wrapped around your waist already saturated with blood, head lolling back and forth as he steps off the helicopter. The two men share a look but no words are exchanged between them as the medical team rushes you away on a stretcher for immediate treatment.

Big Boss moves to stand next to Ocelot, lighting up a cigar before taking a deep drag and finally talking.

"They'll be alright", was all he said.

Ocelot didn't answer.

* * * * *

The room is pale white and sterile looking, smelling strongly of disinfectant, the only noise coming from the steady beeping of your heart monitor. You were lying perfectly still on the hospital bed, eyes closed, chest gently falling and rising. Ocelot locks the door behind him as he enters, for once he wants to be alone with you. He hesitates for a moment before taking off one of his leather gloves and placing his large hand lightly over yours. You still haven't woken up since you got injured but he knew it was only a matter of time. He decides he should probably say something but the right words are hard to find.

"Here we are again кролик...after all the shit I went through last time I swore if I ever saw you again I'd shoot you right between the eyes. And you better believe I meant it. Then I saw you getting off the helicopter and I...I couldn't do it". He sighs deeply, pausing to think more on what to say as his thumb rubs across the back of your hand.

"Wake up кролик, please. We need you, Motherbase needs you. Hell, even I need you...пожалуйста, проснись". Ocelot puts his glove back on and leaves your hospital room as quietly as he could. Nobody needed to know he'd ever been there.

* * * * *

"Come in", snaps Ocelot from behind his desk after hearing a gentle knock on his office door. His pen stops dead as he glances up and see's you standing there in the door frame.

"Got a minute?" You ask, looking unusually awkward. Ocelot sits the pen down with a little more force than necessary, staying silent as he focuses his steely eyes on yours.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for good. Bright and early". You pause waiting for his reaction but still he stays silent. Truthfully he was a turmoil of emotions, each one more complex than the last. "I guess what I came here to say was...I heard you in the hospital room Adamska. I was unconscious but still, I heard you. People like us can't ever be normal, we don't get to have normal lives and normal relationships but for what it's worth ты мне тоже нужен".

He doesn't get the chance to answer as you quickly turn around and leave, closing the door with a quiet snap behind you.

Not even 30 seconds later however, he hears the sound of a note being slid under the door.

"I hate depressing good byes, so come to my quarters later tonight and let me give you a better one".

#metal gear soild 5 #revolver ocelot #mgs ocelot #adamska #revolver ocelot x reader

[fivedayshakespeare]

1/1/2024-1/5/2024: Much Ado About Nothing

First of all, I think it's weird that Hero instantly forgives Claudio and marries him in spite of the way he treated her. His evidence of her "infidelity" was that he saw her talking to someone? And his response was to make the biggest scene possible right in the middle of the wedding? Come on, kid.

I realize things were different back then, but Beatrice specifically calls out both of those things, so I don't think things were THAT different. Claudio definitely wildly overreacted, but Hero still seems perfectly happy to marry him, as long as everyone in town clearly understands that she's a virgin.

Really, it's not the marriage that seems odd to me. The odd part is a few lines later, when both Hero and Claudio gleefully reveal Beatrice and Benedick's secret sonnets. You two have serious relationship issues you should be working on, but once the marriage happens they immediately retreat into being supporting characters for the actual stars of the play.

I've seen some analysis (now largely discredited, I think) that tries to make Claudio/Hero the stars and Benedick/Beatrice mere comic relief, but that flies in the face of the structure of the play. I think the couple that meets first and gets married last has to be the main objects of the plot, right? Or maybe not, because I guess by that rubric the main characters of A Midsummer Night's Dream would be Theseus and Hippolyta, who I regularly forget are even in the play.

When the Prince goes to Hero with the intention of wooing her for Claudio, he must have done an excellent job. Although I guess from Leonato's point of view, Hero has to marry the guy who spurned her if at all possible, to repair her (and thus Leonato's) reputation.

I watched the Kenneth Branagh and Joss Whedon versions while I was reading the play. They're both very good, I think. In Branagh, Emma Thompson and Michael Keaton are really excellent as Beatrice and Dogberry. In Whedon, I think Clark Gregg's Leonato impressed me the most. He felt the most fluent with Shakespeare. And there's a moment early on when Benedick is going on and on about Beatrice, and he says something to the effect of "Let's talk no more about her." Leonato just looks at the other character on screen until Benedick, of course, continues to talk about Beatrice. It's well acted and establishes that not only is Benedick clearly in love with Beatrice, but everyone knows it.

I was going to watch the David Tennant/Catherine Tate version, because I'm getting to the plays with multiple adaptations and I'm always fascinated by what changes are made (e.g. how many cuckold jokes get taken out) and the decisions by the actors. But I don't have time tonight, because RuPauls Drag Race is back. Aside: I think there is something interesting about Shakespeare and drag queens. Beatrice, after all, was played by a youth in a wig and a dress, and she definitely knew how to throw shade:

Benedick: God keep your ladyship still in that mind, so some gentleman or other shall scape a predestinate scratched face Beatrice: Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as yours were

That is a read if I ever saw one.

Finally, I would like to reiterate my dislike of the current state of things where the only Shakespeare criticism you can easily find online is people summarizing the plots and providing essays for students to steal. I'm having to order books from like 1955, when it appears that people were writing actual criticism. On the plus side, I'm assembling an okay research library.

#shakespeare #much ado about nothing #got a lot to say about this one #I didn't even get into beards

[kasaneteto]

been thinking about this guy a lot. dont read under the cut if you dont want persona 4 spoilers or dont want to hear me talk about how i used to wish this guy would do nasty things to me because of my trauma

first of all this is not a character analysis this is my very personal relationship with the character. second of all this is normally the kind of thing i would put on my private instagram but my roommate is currently playing p4 & i dont want him to get spoiled. so sorry that youre subjected to this i guess. anyways.

recently something ive realized about myself is that i am a HOPELESS romantic. i require something to pour my affections into. & if that isnt a person WELL its gonna be a fictional character. for me the adachi blorboism started right after i ended my first real “relationship”. i say “relationship” because it was less of that and more of me being groomed by a guy 5 years my senior. unfortunately, this guy was what got me into persona. he asked me to watch the p4 anime with him and that was it for me lmfao.

so wtf does that have to do with adachi. well i didnt think it had ANYTHING to do with him until recently. being in therapy has allowed me to really dissect the way my environment has manifested in my behaviors and atp im confident in saying that getting groomed is pretty much the reason i love adachi so much. groomer man was the literal definition of a nice guy, like i made a nice guys finish last joke to him once & his actual response was “but it’s true though…” and he was SO bummed when adachi was revealed to be the mastermind. he was all “ooouuhhhh it sucks because he was such a good character before that”

so i got out of that relationship, had clarity over the fact that he had been manipulating me the entire time, got my hands on my own copy of p4 (i had still only seen the anime & played arena atp) and when i got to adachi’s monologue i was like. THIS GUY IS AWESOME!!!! HOW IS HE A WORSE CHARACTER FOR THIS!!!! im realizing now that travis (groomer) probably felt very attacked by adachi’s motives. & not only that but that i felt very comforted by how blatantly evil he is. that sounds really weird so let me explain.

i saw (& honestly still see) adachi as someone who’s a product of his environment. he felt trapped & suffocated by inaba, felt mistreated by his superiors at work, and with being given access the tv world found something that he felt he could control, which was fun for him in a world of boredom, of which he felt like the victim. i related a lot to that feeling of being trapped somewhere you can’t escape from (both because of my relationship & at the time living with my parents) and really appreciated his fucked outlook on life. not like. the misogyny part. just the whole “life only favors the lucky ones” sentiment. i also saw him as a much more honest & self-aware version of travis. he knew he was doing bad things to people who didn’t deserve it, and his justifications were just “i was bored”. unlike my ex who probably still sees himself as a victim

idk! i guess the takeaway here is that there’s still so much more to me than i know. im learning new things about myself every day. im very glad to finally be on this journey of self-discovery. ive always been a really introspective person but i dont think i ever asked myself WHY? why am i like this. like actually. so im doing that now. & the answers are actually pretty fucked up! ive always played down my trauma because its what my parents and a lot of my peers did. my “best friend” as a kid (she was honestly just a bully) didn’t believe me when i told her that my parents fought. like it was so much worse than i allowed myself to believe. i played down getting groomed because I wasn’t like r*ped or anything (he touched me with my permission but no insertion happened idk if that counts as r*pe) but whenever i tell people that my parents were not only okay with it but allowed him to come visit me from Canada and STAY AT MY HOUSE….they are always shocked. because thats so fucked up! like… what!

alright ive really gone off the rails with this but in conclusion: adachi is a piece of shit and thats why i love him. he’s my disgusting babygirl. my awful little mongrel anime husbando. & you dont get him like i do

#txt #thanks for reading this if you do #its long af 🫶 #my husband

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Goretober Prompts

(I’m not really planning on writing stuff for these, since I already have so much on my plate for Halloween stuff–that might change, but no promises.)

Hey, @that-bat! I’d nearly forgotten Goretober myself, but you asking for suggestions reminded me, so, thanks! But please don’t feel obligated to follow this list if you can’t or don’t want to.

(Side-note: since ADD is so much fun, I decided to include my own ideas along with some of the prompts. Again, this is just brainstorming on my part. If you decide to try out any of these prompts, you don’t have to follow them exactly as I have written them; I bet you’ll think of an even better way to go about them. Hope you enjoy, friendo!)

___

1. Cannibalism: If we’re talking YouTuber fanart, I think this one would work well with MatPat, considering he’s made at least half a dozen videos on the subject. (Honestly, I blame him for cannibalism becoming one of my favorite horror tropes.)

2. Possession: This would be a good one for Darkiplier, since his body is a vessel for three different souls. Phantom is a great candidate too, since he’s got a thing for souls. But it can still be used for the others (Matt, Ethan, etc.) in varying ways. It all depends on how you think about it.

3. Nightmare

4. Freak Show

5. Dissection: The RE Au Lords running Cadou experiments on their victims.

6. Specimen Preservation: Very disturbing stuff. But one thing that can make it more fascinating is diaphonization (basically, a complex process where a skinned specimen is injected with/bathed in a variety of chemicals that, over time, will turn its flesh translucent and dye its bones a bright color. This could work well for any character, really. It all just depends on how you want to portray it).

7. Siren: A good opportunity to make a new Nate Ego. Since he’s such a great singer, this is just a perfect match. I could see either of the siren motifs (the original Greek version with wings or the later European version that resembled merfolk) working, because either way, sirens are always very intriguing and very dangerous. Of course, you could always come up with your own design. 

8. Disease

9. Self-Mutilation: I immediately thought of RE Au!Nate/Lord Ophio when I chose this prompt (mainly because of how I wrote about him in that one story). But it would still work well for the other Lords or certain Egos, too. (It would also be kinda funny if Mark or one of his egos was drawn for this. Y’know, as a masochism joke.)

10. Insanity: MadPat, Wilford Warfstache, Darkiplier, etc. ISWM Captain/Benji going over the edge due to the wormhole. (And, on the subject of ISWM, perhaps the glitching Mack goes through during his existential crisis having a far worse effect on his body than we see in the video?). The RE Au Lords each slowly losing their minds due to their mutations. There’s so much potential for this one. . .

11. Hollow

12. Blunt-Force Trauma

13. Overgrowth

14. Trophy: Phantom appraising his collection of souls–including the latest client, currently still trapped in his cane–looking even more sinister than usual (perhaps he’s semi-transformed, letting his human disguise slip).

15. Transformation: The RE Au Lords taking to their mutant forms. Werwolf!Hunter and Vampire!Nate shifting to their more animalistic forms (the process of which would, realistically, look more painful than it actually is).

16. Candy/Pastel Gore

17. Broken Glass: Okay, this is definitely overcomplicated, but hear me out. So, Vampire!Nate and Werewolf!Hunter have recently been out and about, but Nate’s cravings suddenly start getting to him. For the sake of convenience, let’s say Nate has a supply of blood-bags at home. But the trip to his place takes longer than expected, with Hunter quietly comforting Nate along the way. Then, they somehow come across a person who has just cut their hand on a broken window/mirror. Nate sees this and his hunger pangs immediately get worse, thus making his anxiety skyrocket. Perfect place for a cliffhanger, no? (On the other hand, you could always go for the classic “character looking into a broken mirror, which makes their reflection all distorted” piece. Those are always good.)

18. Sacrifice

19. Accident

20. Poison/Venom: RE Au!Matt/Lord Loxosceles biting one of his victims and then watching as they suffer the following hallucinations.

21. Revenge: Natemare helping the Missing Children torture William Afton.

22. Sharp Objects: This could work for several different Egos, especially MadPat. 

23. Eldritch Abomination

24. Smile

25. Carving: There’s all sorts of morbid imagery that could be used in this context, but a simple jack-o-lantern with suspicious bloodstains on it would certainly do the trick.

26. Nosebleed/Busted Lip

27. Cemetery: Memento and Mori resting in the coffin they share, slowly decomposing as all things do.

28. Brain: MadPat (or any of Matt’s egos) would fit this nicely. They’re just too damn smart for their own good.

29. Drowning: Mark being dragged underwater by something horrible. Or maybe RE Au!Mark/Lord Isurus torturing one of his victims/Ethan.

30. Infestation: RE Au!Matt/Lord Loxosceles tending to his many, many, many spiders (or sicking them on a trapped victim/Ethan).

31. [FREE CHOICE]

#goretober #writing #writing prompts #tw horror elements #nathan sharp #natewantstobattle #nwtb phantom #nwtb natemare #matpat #matthew patrick #madpat #markiplier #mark fischbach #markiplier egos

[ursbearhug]

Okay in my normal vein I'm obligated by law to recommend a good game!

So I had some spare change on my steam account because my previous purchases (Devil May Cry 5 and Resident Evil 6) were... Less than satisfying. I know RE6 is good story wise because I've watched let's play of it but playing the game myself caused some serious conniptions. Devil May Cry was on the other hand, an example of horrible port or game that was not made for PC in the first play. Whatever it was, it was just horrendous experience all around. But since you can only play for less than 2 hours in order to return the game, I might have missed the game being the best in the world in the meantime or something.

This by the way is something I've learnt the hard way because I'm 98% sure that at the time, mother language version of the service rules you agree to, have been horribly untranslated. In English it clearly says that game needs to be played for less than 2 hours AND returned within two weeks of purchase. When I read it (not in English) it said one or the other. And I was very perplexed and vexed because I couldn't give back the game I barely played but bought two years ago or some shit like that. Anyway!

"Pentiment" is gorgeous game stylised for 15 and 16th century illuminations. There is a lot of gothic and humanistic calligraphy to oggle at if that's something you fancy. I know to a lot of folk it is hard to believe but antique and mediaeval latin are different and therefore a lot of it is hardly understandable to me (though, a lot of is because it's just 'reprints', like for instance; Aeneid). But that's only if you go through the trouble of reading that flashing latin (which I do because I'm a weirdo). There is a lot of the "choices matter", most of the game is carefully picking conversation options - since game is constantly auto saved, you cannot pick and revert your choice; this ain't Life is Strange. If you fuck up, you have to live with that wrong choice you've picked by accident and WHOOPS 13 hours of gameplay for naught because YOUR FAT FUCKING FINGER SLIPED. It's okay. I'm over it... - and investigating. But what could you be investigating? MURDER! And this time it ain't butler's fault. And no Agatha Christie to be found.

Beside being just gorgeous to look at, it runs really well too. It's tad too loud for me personally but I'm not really game music nerd. It is okay though! Characters that I got to meet are really sweet and lovely too. Most of them anyway. Towns folk especially. The amount of dilfs I would like to... Well... Fuck - is staggering. Game is also somehow aware of gay people existing in the 16th century monasteries and out. I would *DIE* for Jorg. He is big where it matters. (It's his heart pervs)

To my delight game has 3 acts and it took me 13 hours to get through 1st. Now I had the freedom to play almost nonstop but I'm also a MASSIVE snoop and I was getting into everybodies' business with my crew and talking dog. I meant meddling kids! So there is a chance that somebody who cares less about petting every dog and cat and smelling every flower and talking with everybody 6 times just to be sure, will be able to go through the game quicker.

Oh, yes. You can pet 16th century illuminations of a cat or dog. Ya know how everybody lost their shit that Hogwarts Legacy: Transphobia Crowd Funded had the petting cats options? Yeah, eat your heart out JKTERFling. One of the dog is called Mirabilis which is: according to my poor memory and even worse grasp on Latin - either an adjective meaning "wonderful" or noun meaning "wonder". I would die for them too.

There is also some "choose your own adventure" motifs, with picking unfinished (hits too close to home mister Game) major, second field, your origins and later even main occupation (and I - for once in my entire life - was pleasantly surprised to see my nation and country existing prominently. Though that was when it excelled historically, so yeah). And I think it gives it a lot of charm.

I will try to finish the game (and perhaps cram the second playthrough because I have new BETTER ideas to FUCK UP MY GAME) before the weekends end. Game is currently on a discount on Steam and will be till 4th of May to anybody interested!

Anyway, I'm really tired and tomorrow is fancy Flea Market awaiting me so! Good night ol buddies ol pals!

#percy does things #percy does gaming

[mourningwithmagicians]

Dear J

Have we ever talked about the coin flip analogy? How you flip a coin to make a decision, and as it's flipping, you know what you truly want. That's how I know I want to be with you. Each time I tell someone about us, seeking advice, or just to share, I hope they're gonna tell me I made a huge mistake and that we should be together and should get married urgently.

The people that truly know you are on your side. I am on your side. I love you so much. Your hair, your eyes, your nose, your skin, your smile, your taste, your smell, your voice, your lips, your beard, your neck, your shoulders, your quads, the marks I have left on your body, the size of your hands, the calluses on your palms, the way you treat others, the way you've never been angry at life despite everything it's done to you.

I love you. I know you. We are suffering the same pain right now. Am I selfish to think that somehow my pain is worse? Maybe I am. This whole thing has been about me being selfish. I'm selfish in the way that I left. I'm selfish in the way that I don't want to hear your name coming out of anyone else's mouth. I want you all to myself yet I put us in this place. I'm so sorry.

I am in pain knowing that today may have been our last kiss, but I am at peace knowing you don't hate me and that you are okay. Keep my picture up on your desk. I'm all yours despite all this.

I'm sorry I kissed you today. I know I shouldn't have. I'm also sorry that I wasn't able to give you the explanation that you deserve. I did it because I know we still love each other. You broke my heart with the things you said. I so desperately wanted to say them back to you. I've never loved anyone as much as I have loved you. I will have lost this version of myself if I am ever able to love anyone else even close to how much I have loved you.

Do you think if I pray hard enough, God will let me be in heaven with you? With nobody else around us to tell us what to do, nobody to please, no cameras to pose for, no mental illness, no regret.

I am going to pray each night that god keeps you safe and pairs you with someone who makes you even happier than I ever could have. I'm going to pray that I learn a lesson from all the mistakes I made. I deserve it.

Thank you for saying that our 5 years were beautiful. That you wouldn't have wanted any less. I feel the same. I know we both wanted more.

I also know that there are so many factors against us that finally caught up with us. If you ever want to elope, catch me at a moment like this, and I'll pick up everything and leave.

[dilfdoctordoom]

I wanna be with you too, Eve.

#luciferedit #dcedit #dailylucifernetflix #fyeahlucifernetflix #lgbtincomics #usergenosha #dcladies #maze x eve #mazeve #mazikeen #lucifer eve #filmtv #lucifer spoilers #*gif edit #lets not talk about how i have 5 worse versions of this made okay

[tommyshelbyswh0re]

tommy shelby- liar

summary- you’re tommy shelby’s wife but recently he has been acting suspicious.

you loved you’re husband. you loved him before, during and after the war. only, it was harder to love him after. he was distant. he wasn’t the same tommy that bought you a pair of earrings with the last bit of his money. he was a new version. and you had to learn how to love him as the version he was now. they never said love was easy, but you never expected it to be this hard. there’s no rule book to loving a broken man. but you made sure to love and respect him and hope it was enough.

you worked at a bookstore. you knew your husband could support you, but you preferred to stay busy. at lunch you decided to visit your husband in his office. you wanted to surprise him and let him understand that it’s okay to let you in. you’re equals, his problems were yours and vice versa.

you walked into the betting shop and knocked onto his office door.

“come in” a gruff voice answered

“hi my love, i brought lunch. thought it’d be nice to catch up” you sweetly said

“‘m not hungry” he said in a monotone voice

“well can i still eat here?” you asked

“you can. got a meeting in 5 minutes tho” he didn’t seem to happy about seeing you

you set up and ate. he wasn’t talking much. the occasional gruff and sound of agreement here and there, but this is what you’re marriage was. you putting in effort and him taking everything from you.

//

you arrived home at 5 o’clock. no sign of tommy. but you knew he was a busy man. you decided to ring the garrison and see if he was there. he was. and so reluctantly you decided to go have a drink.

you walk into the garrison doors and up to the bar. oh, you thought. a new barmaid. you ordered a gin and tonic and waited. you made polite conversation with the new barmaid, who you learnt is called grace.

“grace, have you seen my husband? his name is thomas shelby?” you asked.

“yeah he’s in the snug” she replied.

you went into the snug and you found your husband. he seemed drunk, which was actually unusual as he handles his alcohol quite well.

“hello darling. have you met the new barmaid?” you asked

“i have.” he shortly replied.

“oh. she seems nice. her names grace”

“hmm very nice” he smirked.

your heart fell through your stomach.

you knew you’re husband had taken interests in whores, but never had he admitted it. you had never admitted to knowing either. but it hurt you the way that he could speak about a woman infront of you as if you were one of his brothers. you’re his wife for goodness sake.

at that point you’re mood was sour. you swallowed the rest of your drink and walked out, back to you’re shared home.

//

about two hours later you husband can crashing through your front door. waking you. you pretended you were asleep and hoped he would apologise in the morning.

//

two weeks later, it was rocky. more rocky than your relationship had ever been. he still hadn’t apologised and returned home later and you’d probably exchanged all of 10 words in 14 days. it was bad. but it got worse when he came home reeking of perfume that wasn’t yours.

“where the fuck have you been? and why do i smell another woman on you?” you asked. you were furious. you didn’t deserve this, especially after all the love and effort you put into making you’re love enough.

“not tonight y/n” he snapped.

“have you slept with her”

“i said not tonight!”

“just talk to me god dammit. you have put me through hell these last few months and i can’t do it anymore.”

“THEN LEAVE, i’m not asking you to stay.”

you were shocked, this is the moment you knew he had fallen out of love with you.

“you should’ve told me the moment you figured it out” you quietly said with a shaken voice.

“figured what out?”

“that you didn’t love me anymore”

“y/n i love you. but i’m not inlove with you. i’m inlove with grace.”

“you should have left me alone if i wasn’t what you wanted” you replied with tears rolling down your face.

and with that you left. you knew you were worth more. and so you seeked for more.

#tommy shelby angst #grace shelby #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby #Spotify

[jxsatlas]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍 ⇢ keith kogane, ch. 1

keith kogane x gn! reader – next

DISCLAIMER! this story does not originally belong to me, the author is @MaddieWolf37 on Wattpad. i have simply received permission to rewrite and continue her story. go and check out her profile for the original version!

SYNOPSIS! a story in which you are thrown into the middle of an intergalactic space war and have the undesirable weight of being a symbol of peace dropped on your shoulders. but maybe if you look past the constant danger and endless fighting, there's some good to being a paladin of voltron.

MATURE CONTENT! swearing, violence, gore, war, graphic descriptions, mentions of self-harm

"Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14," Lance announces, "Begin descent to Kerberos for a rescue mission."

He shoves the yoke forward and the aircraft takes a steep dive. You plant your feet to help fight against the inertia. You give him a sharp glare as the aircraft steadies out.

"Ugh, Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" Hunk whines from the back.

You look over your shoulder and recognise the nauseated expression on his face all too well. Last semester, there was a girl on your team that didn't do too well with excessive motion and often got sick.

Lance brushes him off. "Relax Hunk, I'm just getting a feel for the stick," he says with a lazy grin, which quickly turns mischievous. "It's not like I did this, or this!" Lance jerks the aircraft side to side, making Hunk feel worse.

"Knock it off, Lance," you warn from your chair next to him. You reach up above you and press a few buttons in hopes of stabilising the aircraft out after Lance's little joke.

"Yeah, listen to [y/n] unless you wanna wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing," Hunk groans angrily.

"We've picked up a distress signal!" Pidge says from his seat in the back.

"Alright, time to quit our bickering and get serious," you say, doing your own little thing to accommodate for the lower altitude while Lance flies the aircraft.

"Pidge, track the coordinates," Lance says with a roll of his eyes at your comment.

Pidge does so, typing away on the computer. The aircraft gives a large rumble and Hunk groans again.

"Knock it off, Lance! Please!" he whines, his face all scrunched up in discomfort.

"Oh, that's on you buddy," Lance says sharply. "We got a hydraulic stabiliser out."

Hunk nods and goes to fix it, but when the aircraft shakes again he gags. "Oh no."

"Oh no, fix now, puke later," Lance growls.

So much bickering... you think to yourself with a sigh.

"I lost contact!" Pidge says. "The shaking is interfering with our sensors."

Lance looks over his shoulder at Hunk. "Come on, dude!"

"Sorry, it's not responding," Hunk says and unfastens his safety belt. He carefully gets up and makes his way over to the gearbox to see what's up.

"Coordinates are back," you say, seeing the blue dot on the dash.

"Nevermind Hunk," Lance says.

"No, he still needs to fix it," you say. "We can't properly fly this thing if a hydraulic stabiliser is out."

"Whatever," Lance rolls his eyes, "Preparing for approach on visual."

"I don't think that's advisable, given our current mechanical..." Pidge warns, trailing off when he hears Hunk gag again. "...and gastrointestinal issues..."

"Agreed!" Hunk says, not before quickly emptying his stomach into the gearbox with the unsavoury sounds of food chunks and liquid hitting the metal. You cringe, not liking the sound, and hope he's okay.

"Stop worrying," Lance says dismissively.

"No, they're right," you say firmly as you place your attention on Lance now. "We should wait before we do anything."

"Nah, this baby can take it! Can't ya champ?" Lance coos and pats the dash. The aircraft rumbles again and he retracts his hand with a sheepish look. "See? She was nodding!"

"That wasn't nodding Lance," you deadpan. "Now listen to us and wait."

"I'm the one flying this thing, aren't I?" Lance asks. "So I'm in charge, and that means what I say goes!"

"Excuse you, we're both flying this thing," you argue.

Ignoring you, Lance turns to Pidge. "Pidge, hail down on them and let them know their ride is here," he says.

Knowing that you're now doomed, you keep your mouth shut and wait for the inevitable failure of the simulation. You can already see it, the big, bold, red letters appearing on the dash.

And when Lance flies towards an overhang, tilting the plane as much as he can in a sad attempt to thread through the little hole rather than going over or around, you know this is where you fail.

Lance doesn't make it. The wing gets torn off, the alarms blare, and the aircraft pummels to the ground. The dash goes black and those red letters you were anticipating appear without hesitation.

Simulation Failed.

The first failure on your school record.

You toss your head back and sharply exhale, frustration building up in you. "Nice going," you grumble and look at Lance through the corner of your eye.

He catches your gaze and glares at you. "Oh, shut up," he growls.

The four of you sit in silence for a second, you and Lance glaring at each other, before an instructor opens the door and beckons you to come out.

Reluctantly, you all unfasten your safety belts and crawl out of the aircraft. You then mentally prepare yourselves for the lecture about how you are all failures to come.

You, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge line up before the Commander, avoiding his scowling gaze.

"Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you," Commander Iverson's voice booms angrily. He's not at all impressed with your behaviour. "Can anyone point out the mistakes these so-called cadets made during the simulator?"

"The engineer puked in the main gearbox!" a boy from the back of the group of students shouts out. Iverson nods and turns to Hunk.

"Yes. Everyone knows vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems," Iverson sharply criticises Hunk. He turns back to the students. "What else?"

"The comms-spec removed his safety harness," a girl points out.

"The pilot crashed!" another shouts.

Iverson nods, approving of all the answers given. "And worst of all, the whole jump they're arguing with each other," he growls and turns to the four of you once more.

You keep your gaze on the ground shamefully.

"The Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astro-explorers," Iverson lectures. His hands are on his hips as he looks down at you. "But these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what caused the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission."

In your peripherals, you notice Pidge clench his fists at his sides and scrunch his nose up in anger. You fully turn your head to him when he takes a bold step towards the Commander.

"That's not true, sir!" he barks.

Iverson looks at him and glares. "What was that, young man?" he growls.

Lance quickly slaps a hand over Pidge's mouth and pulls him back in line. "Sorry, sir! He must've hit his head when he fell!" he says, smiling sheepishly in a sad attempt to cover up his fear. His hand gets tighter over Pidge's mouth, almost as if he's asking the ginger what the hell is wrong with him.

With Lance speaking up, Iverson's attention is now pinpointed on him. He takes a few steps closer to Lance, his intimidating figure making your brother cower back a bit.

"I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here," he growls, his tone of voice menacing and powerful, "is because the best pilot in your class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out."

Lance drops his gaze down to the floor, a look of dejection taking over his face.

"Don't follow in his footsteps," Iverson warns. He stares Lance down a bit before abruptly turning to you. "And you!" he barks.

Your entire body freezes up and your eyes wearily follow him as he stops in front of you now. Your heart sinks down to your gut.

"I expected better of you."

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You returned to your dorm at the end of the day with a cloud over your head.

You grumble about the day's events as you aggressively tug your shirt over your head. You really wish you could pinpoint the source of your frustration. Are you mad at my brother? Your team? Or yourself?

You toss your clothes on the floor and pull out some track shorts and a hoodie from your dresser. Getting dressed in your pajamas for the rest of the night, you try to sort out your emotions.

"Stop mumbling to yourself," your roommate says from her bed.

You turn to her. "Ah, sorry," you say. "I didn't realise I was talking out loud..."

"If you're that mad at your brother why don't you just punch him?" she asks. You blink, surprised she actually heard you.

"I'm not violent like you," you say with a sigh. "Besides, I don't even know if I'm mad at him specifically."

"Eh, I would punch him either way," your roommate shrugs. "It's a good way to alleviate your stress."

You roll your eyes. "I alleviate my stress by sleeping."

Your roommate laughs. "Ain't that the truth?" she jests. "How many times have you taken a nap between classes this week?"

You stare at her with a blank expression for a moment before picking your clothes up and off of the ground. "I'm not answering that," you say and toss them into the hamper.

You and your roommate pause when there's a knock on the door. You look at her and she looks at you.

She raises her hands up. "And I'm not answering that," she says.

You roll your eyes and grab one of the dirty articles of clothing you tossed into the hamper and throw at her without any remorse. She yelps in fear and disgust as you walk to the door with a smirk on your face.

"Don't throw your nasty underwear at me!" she barks and she pinches the panties between her thumb and index finger, tossing them as far away from her as possible.

You cackle and open the door. Your laughter cuts short when you're suddenly face to face with your brother. Hunk stands behind him.

"What are you doing in the girls' dorm?" you ask, but then take the opportunity you just created for yourself to tease your dear elder brother. You think of it as a bit of revenge for crashing the simulator. "Visiting someone?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Heh, I wish," he sighs. "But no. We're thinking about hitting the town tonight! You know, for some team bonding?"

"Who is it?" your roommate calls to you.

"Lance and Hunk," you say over your shoulder at her.

"Punch him!" she shouts back.

"No!" you hiss and turn back to your brother.

"I don't like your roommate," Lance comments under his breath.

"Neither do I," you joke.

"I heard that!" your roommate barks.

"No you didn't!" you ready. But getting the feeling that she's going to keep interrupting, you push Lance out of your way and step into the hall with him and Hunk. You then close the door and give the boys your full attention.

"So, you're gonna come with us?" Lance asks.

"I don't know," you say with uncertainty in your tone. You cross your arms. "It's past curfew and I don't really think you have off-campus privileges..."

"That doesn't matter," Lance waves his hand dismissively. "Iverson wants us to bond as a team, so why don't we listen to him for once?"

"I'm not feeling that adventurous," you say.

"What? Why not? It'll be fun!" Lance cajoles.

"Lance, your idea of fun always ends up with you and me in the principal's office," Hunk reminds. "Don't drag your little sibling into it."

"Hunk has a point," you say. "I don't want to get in trouble again. I had my filling for today."

"Since when were you a goodie-two-shoes?" Lance asks in a somewhat offended tone.

"Since I got a scholarship here?" you quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sibling?" Lance says as he gives you a look of utter betrayal, as if you were some alien.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not too keen on losing something like that because I went along with your dumb shenanigans," you sigh.

"Please, the max punishment for something like this is just a weekend detention with old man Brechin," Lance says and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "That is, if you get caught."

You bite your lip, looking away in thought. Team bonding sounds very appealing after what happened today, but are you willing to risk your scholarship? You don't know if you can lose it because of a simple detention. The Galaxy Garrison is a government program, which means they are pretty strict.

"Do you really need to think about it?" Lance asks with raised eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're scared!"

His words irk you immensely.

You snap your gaze up to him. Is he serious? You aren't scared. Why would you be scared of sneaking out?

You silently walk back into your dorm and quickly throw a bra on, some socks, and your shoes.

"Where are you going?" your roommate asks as she watches you scramble about the room with a sense of purpose all of a sudden.

"Team bonding," you say, now tying the laces of your shoes.

"This late? Are you sure?" she asks.

"All common sense in me left the moment Lance basically called me a scaredy-cat," you say bluntly.

"Well, have fun," your roommate says.

You give her a small salute as you walk out of the dorm. "I'll be back by morning."

"Alright, see ya!"

You close the door and turn to Lance and Hunk expectantly. "Well?"

Lance gives you a cocky grin, proud of his persuasion skills. You suddenly consider your roommate's suggestion for a second.

"We need to go grab Pidge," Lance says. "It won't be team bonding if someone's missing. You gotta have everybody."

You shrug, doubting Pidge will join.

Lance takes the liberty of leading the way to the boys' dorm, you and Hunk following closely behind. You expertly dodge the officers patrolling the halls making sure students are in their dorms like ninjas on a stealth mission.

As Lance rounds a corner, he suddenly stops and back peddles quickly. He peeks around the corner and watches whatever is on the other side. Curious, you and Hunk sneak up close to Lance and peek as well.

Pidge steps out of his room, a backpack swung over his shoulders. He checks his surroundings before closing the door and running off.

You, Lance, and Hunk share a look. You all then telepathically agree to follow the small boy. Once again, Lance takes the lead.

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