#i feel like i should. 5 years is a nice achievement but i have a hard time getting ideas.

[hazelplaysgames]

we're dodging violence against Junpei today.

you know, i think clips are getting to be... about October? i have 600 in queue right now, it should be close. i kinda realized, this entire last year has been games that took place in Japan. Digimon Cyber Sleuth, World's End Club, Persona, i got into AI: The Somnium Files(i hope the next sale is soon!). i should probably also just play The World Ends With You, just to add another to the list, i got that on DS back in the days i was bad at prioritizing what to do in games. i saw the shrine in the background of this one, and it just kinda hit me how many of them were in Japan.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Brother Pt 3

Tw: suffocating unbearable love, violence, general yandere, female reader shenanigans, infantilization, and of course incest. also christmas

minors and ageless blogs dni please <3

click here for part 1 and part 2

Click here for my new oc Yves (PLEASE READ IT I LOVE YVES)

plotholes and emglish errors everywhere and i could not be bothered :100emoji: please dont point it out thanks xoxo

Caught the Covid fuk now i cant leave my bed im so damn sick and pukey all the time, i dont fuckin know where my roommate is but at least they're not here to get infected, feeling like a busted up rustbucket rn

So this was originally written last year, couldnt find what else to write but this christmas time is perfect, so like dont mind the shoehorning of Christmas somewhere in this fic

You're having your summer break and you plan to pick up on a new hobby. Crocheting, perhaps.

Fuck, your brother picked up your search history from his spyware. Now you're left to deal with $1000 worth of wonderful quality crocheting materials and your big brother being your personal crocheting mentor.

This is where it gets frustrating. Yes, if you have the resources, you would enjoy your hobbies more. But, just like... What if you didn't like crocheting in the end? You're stuck with all these.

It happens to every single potential hobby. Stamp collecting? Your big brother will bid to the death for an extremely rare stamp from the 1900. You're not even fucking collecting the stamps, the stamp book already comes arranged with all the stamps ever produced. A collection that would only give a hardcore stamp collector an instant orgasm upon sniffing it.

Nail art? Where the hell should you keep all the acrylic powders, fake nails, drills and drill bits? Not to mention the dizzying numbers of nail polishes, nail brushes, nail stickers and cuticle sticks. Of course, your big brother is going to hire a professional nail artist to make sure you're practicing your hobby safely while he's learning how to do it himself, so he could replace your mentor too. He would become so skilled that he could qualify to open up a 5 star nail salon. But he's not interested unless you are.

Painting? you absolutely do NOT need all of those tubes of paint. The difference in shades for some of them are so small that you mistook it for the same colour. You would have a headache choosing the right type of paper, right type of primer and right type of fixative to use.

Are you having troubles on painting? Let big brother teach you. You would sit on his lap as he guide your hands across the canvas. Don't you think his warm hand enveloping yours feel nice? Doesn't his free hand feels nice sensually rubbing your thigh? Don't you just feel protected in his hold?

Makeup? Same situation with your nail hobby. You're essentially being babied by him and experienced celebrity makeup artists, you would drown in a mountain of eyeshadow palettes, primers, setting sprays, skin care products, anything and everything related to makeup.

Every instrument ever? Big brother would insist lovingly providing all the music lessons you need. He is a musical prodigy after all. If it's something ridiculously obscure like a Glass Armonica or the Theremin, big brother would master it in a couple of weeks, earn a fucking pHD in it and THEN teach you. No instrument is too expensive or hard for him. Your big brother is crossing his fingers HARD for you to have this hobby.

Chess? Oh, he is also a prodigy in it. He could teach you. Your chess pieces would be custom made to your liking, by the way. It would be the perfect density, perfect size, perfect texture for you. He knows what you like and you hate that.

Sports? Take a look at his "achievement room". It's filled to the brim with golden medals and trophies of every sport competition ever. He's not leaving you alone for this one.

Pottery? Welcome to your very own personal pottery studio, furnished with all types of drying racks, ovens, kilns, turntables and equipments you have never heard of. Big brother is always there to supervise you, making sure there won't be any accidents.

Cooking and baking? You get to have an industrial sized kitchen all for yourself. Everything is decorated such that it looks like you would be on television, starring in a cooking show. You don't need to clean anything, or prep anything, or actually do anything, really. There's a team of professional chefs and assistants to do everything for you. They're paid to cheer and clap and celebrate when you pour cake batter into a pan.

Gardening? Well, there's a massive plot of fertile land for you to garden to your heart's content at the house he bought as your 18th birthday gift. If you want a big project, it will be done overnight. You wouldn't hear the gigantic machineries and vehicles tumbling about due to the soundproof walls he installed. No one would be able to hear you both either, doing god-knows-what inside.

Video games? Your big brother personally do not encourage you to pursue this. But... Nonetheless, he would spoil you rotten with all the latest gaming consoles, limited edition merchandises, pre release copies of your favorite game franchises and whatever your gamer heart desires. All at a hefty price of... Daily cuddles and kisses. And you also have to move in with him. And he gets to decide what game you're playing, if he deems it a "bad influence"? It is not staying in his house.

You rather not.

Nothing is fun because the fun parts are already done for you. You don't get to experience the highs and lows of picking up a hobby, you don't get to explore and experiment. You're literally cursed with luxury.

So imagine your boredom, stress and paranoia during summer break. All your friends are spies for your brother, your hobbies aren't even "yours", leaving your house would inevitably lead you to your brother and all digital footprints are heavily scrutinized by him too. No privacy, no autonomy, all monotony.

You juggled three smartphones at once. Throwing one up in the air, catching the other one with your dominant hand, throwing the last to your other hand. Who gives a damn if one, or all of them breaks? It's riddled with spyware and your big brother would buy you every time a new model is released anyways. Which is... A new phone, a month?

You stopped caring where he gets the money. Obviously he has an assload and can afford to wipe his ass with thousand dollar bills regularly.

It's summer break. One last resort to try and spend your time like a regular ol teenager is taking up a part time summer job. There is a wide variety of jobs to choose from with your qualification. Granted, it's minimum wage and mostly customer service.

If you work as a barista, the cafe or juice bar you'll be working at will LOVE the crap out of you.

Your older brother will visit daily and increase their sales tenfold. Of course, he would pick the drinks that you like doing. It's okay if you fucked up, its only your beloved big brother's order, you can add as much sugar, salt, pepper, cyanide as you want. He will never yell at you, never tell you that you made anything wrong or never even die.

The management will suddenly see a surge in daily customer count. Thanks to big brother's networking. And like him, they also will accept anything you make with no complaint... As per his instructions. You could go full on ridiculous and give them a cup of ice drizzled with strawberry scented dish soap and call it Tutti Frutti, they would still pay for it and take it with them. Though, you're not sure if they ever consumed anything from you.

Without fail, your brother would visit you during every break and hand you your meal along with a kiss on the forehead or the cheek. He would bring you out to eat but you would refuse everytime. You also didn't want his company, which made him pout and whine without fail. But it's nice that he would actually back off after the sixth "no".

However, you know that fucker is watching you from a hidden camera somewhere in the nooks and crannies of whatever breakroom you're resting in.

He would engulf you in a big hug when you get off work, telling you how proud he is of you for getting through another workday like a champ. Praising you for all the hard work and excellent performance, making sure to soothe and comfort you if you happen to come across a rude customer earlier in the day.

You try not to think too much about their fate.

You will be fed, bathed and loved after every shift.

Hell, he would even build up a company from scratch just to hire you. Any position you want, barista, manager, cashier, back office work, janitor- you name it, you get the "job" and get paid a pretty penny. All your other coworkers and customers are probably paid actors and actresses to simulate a "real life working experience" safely. He controls it all, making sure you have just the right amount of drama, the right amount of diplomacy and the right amount of gossiping. You're rarely pushed out of your comfort zone, though. Big brother always has your safety and best interests at heart.

Of course, he will never tell you all of this, to keep the immersion going. You're going to feel sad that you're not exactly experiencing reality. But a bastardization of it. Might as well star in a trashy reality TV show instead, at least, it's much more authentic than whatever your big brother has going on for you.

He doesn't need to even tell you though. You would pick it up easily and quickly especially if you already watched the Truman Show. Don't tell him you did, god help you if he ever gets an inkling that you knew about the existence of the Truman Show. He deemed that movie as demonic propaganda and he needs to lecture some sense into you. If you want out, just say that you're 'bored' and want to do something else. Your big brother will gladly drop everything and do anything in his power to help you "achieve" what you want.

But for the sake of "plot" in this latest installment, you agreed to work in a quaint little bubble tea stall. Where you're the only employee, making drinks for whoever is ordering in front of the shop's decorated window.

Of course, your big brother miraculously happens to work in a nearby skyscraper as one does. It's not that you didn't do your research, you were a hundred percent certain he didn't work in that building, because that fucker never goes to work... At least, physically. Perhaps he does his job, whatever that may be, through online means.

You were planning to use your bicycle to get there that you got yourself with "your" money. He never bought you a car or a bike or anything that would get you around, he saw it as something unnecessary. Why would you need it when big brother is available 24/7 to bring you anywhere?

Actually, you could have gotten yourself a car with the allowance he gives you every day for being cute and adorable, and being patient with his incessant kisses and hugs and cuddles and love and touches and his fucking insanity in general.

But you know that he's going to kick up a massive fuss about driving alone. It was hell to even get your license with him actively trying to sabotage you at every exam- which includes him stooping so low to bribe the examiner to fail you. However, you persevered, and you got that stupid license. All the while, he was lamenting about how you're going to leave him all alone, how you don't need big brother anymore, how society pressured you to grow up too fast and recklessly drive off wherever.

You knew better than to fall for that. Or even entertain it either. Eventually, he gave up trying to guilt trip you into crying, apologizing to him and sobbing in his arms, promising that you won't leave him.

It's not like he DIDN'T kick up a fuss when you said you're using a bicycle either. He began freaking out about your safety, fearing that you might get run over.

Well. You admitted defeat. He's driving you to fucking work and back. It's not worth it to fight this battle.

So you began working in the stall. You had someone train you for your first 2 weeks. Then you were on your own.

The owner, who is also the person who showed you the ropes around there, said business isn't good, but it isn't bad either. So you didn't need to worry about rush hour where hoards of thirsty, sleep deprived office workers trample over each other to get their daily boba fix. It's pretty peaceful working there.

But what you do need to worry about, is your fucking big brother.

He would come and buy a drink, whichever you like to make. It can be the most expensive one, or the cheapest one, the most elaborate one or the simplest one. It's up to you, he will pay for it and happily drink what you made.

You could make him pay for the most expensive drink there is but serve him a cup of lukewarm water, and he would still drink it with glee and fork over his money, telling you to keep the change (which is usually a hundred bucks extra).

Let's say you want to be decent and make him drink that you know he would actually like. Which is anything that tastes generally fruity. And insist that you like making it even though it actually sucks.

He knows. He can tell that you're specially making his favourite drink. And that makes him happy and more obsessed with you if that's even possible at this point.

He would leave a massive tip and a kiss on your forehead.

Although your brother is fucking gross and weird like that, you still love him. Probably a bad idea but you're working so hard, trying your best to earn money honestly just to get him a Christmas gift.

Despite the restraining order between your parents and him, your brother is still invited back home each year to be jolly together. Preparations start a few days before Christmas, where you would see an unusual sight.

All of your immediate family members in the same room, or at least in the same house together without fighting to the death. Your dad's bones are intact, your mom didn't have her insecurities jabbed on for once. They're not exactly on speaking terms, per se.

You woke up one morning to see an... appropriate sized tree for your parent's house, erected in the middle of the living room. Adorned with beautiful ornaments and... are those pictures of you on the ornaments?

Wrapped presents were patiently sitting under the tree. There was a small box with your father's name on its tag, another small one with your mother's name on it. A decent sized box was addressed to your brother, must be a combined present from your parents.

Your shoulders sagged in defeat when you saw your presents took up the perimeter of the tree and even conquered the couch, the back of the couch and under the coffee table. You lost count after gift box #27.

Since everyone is in the kitchen, you quickly place the presents you got for your parents... and your brother.

You panned to the fireplace. Your Christmas stocking is filled so much to the brim that your brother must have added 5 more next to your original one. Your parents' and your brother's stockings are relatively empty. You stuffed them with candies and nuts to make them look less embarrassing.

You straightened your back, that should do it. Your ears perked up when you heard some clamoring in the kitchen. It must be your brother.

You let out a surprised yelp when you're yanked back by a pair of arms that snuck around your waist. "Merry Christmas, my little wittle precious baby!" You squeezed your eyes shut and scrunched your face as he attacked you with a barrage of kisses.

He giggled and squealed as he held you in his arms and twirled you around in glee. You let out a scream of horror as your feet dangle off the ground. He does this every Christmas morning when you were a child to wake you up further and get you excited for the holiday. But you're not a kid anymore, and this is horrifying.

Finally, he stopped and put you down. Your hair is frazzled and the world around you is gyrating. He squeezed you in another hug and gently rocked you side to side.

He immediately unlatched when you said you're hungry. Your big brother gleefully lead you to the dining table, where he fixes up a napkin around your neck like a bib. You asked him why is he tying a ribbon on your hair, he said that you are his Christmas present and he is spoiling himself this year.

Before you could respond, he gave you a brief peck on the head before frolicking away into the kitchen.

Your parents came out of the kitchen, greeting you. They're holding a tray full of steaming hot breakfast foods, no doubt your brother forced them to make it for you. Every Christmas generated a metric ton of leftovers. It's because your brother wanted you to try all of the foods from all over the world. But don't worry though, the leftovers could be so intact that it was given out to neighbors and friends and extended families. Some didn't even need to cook after that, the sheer amount of leftovers was enough to fuel ten more Christmas gatherings.

Croissants, quiches, various types of bread, eggs, ham, bacon even panettone made from scratch. Looking at the spread in front of you is dizzying, your big brother sets down the last plate right between your hands. It's a breakfast plate your brother customized to fit your usual preference, everything is shaped into a heart. He patted your head as he took a seat next to you.

Everyone ate in silence. Everyone was focusing on their own meal except... your brother. Who else would rather stare at you adoringly instead?

He asked if you wanted to go make snowmen outside. Not without proper winter protection, that is. You shrugged, it's not like you could escape your family anyway. Your friends are all busy with their own families, and you don't even have friends. Everything is closed and if you lock yourself in your room, your brother will just pick the fucking lock and force his way in.

Your parents tried making small talk, this earned a feral glare from your brother because it interrupted the connection between the both of you. They paid him no mind and began asking about your life. You tiredly replied to their questions and asked some back yourself, to try to find any sense of normalcy. Your brother would be disengaged with the words coming out of your parents mouth, but highly interested in what you had to say.

The rest of the morning went by uneventfully. You offered to help clear the table and do the dishes. Your brother just 'aww'd at you and gave you an appreciative kiss on your forehead. That wasn't an explicit yes, he appreciated the gesture, but he wouldn't allow you to dirty your hands doing chores.

He told you to wait for him to clean up. In the mean time, he gave you permission to open some of the gifts he got you. Frankly, you don't even want to deal with it at all, it's just too much crap. You decided to go through the stockings instead and grab some snacks for yourself.

As expected, he filled it with the most expensive treats and the freshest oranges. These types of foods are usually served in a formal setting, like eating gold crusted caviar at a 10 star restaurant, all dressed up in fancy clothes. But he just... shoved it in a Christmas stocking as if they're mundane chocolates.

Whatever, you shoved some into your pockets.

You turned around to see your brother smiling lovingly at you. He wrapped a puffer jacket around you, his scarf with his cologne on it, a pair of thick mittens on your hands , a winter hat snuggly fitted to your head, and a pair of thick pants he made you wear in front of him.

He picked one of your numerous christmas presents and handed it to you. He clasped his hands together expectedly as he watches you.

Your brother urged you to open it, go wild. Rip the wrapping to shreds. You felt so bad seeing how well wrapped it is and the quality of the wrapping paper is... indescribably good. It doesn't even feel like paper, it feels like silk.

So your carefully dismantled it, trying not to tear anything. You look up to see that your brother is pointing his camera at you, capturing this very precious moment. He encouraged you to go on.

You managed to remove the packaging and revealed a box of expensive winter boots. These are high quality and you would have been the source of envy even though most of your "friends" are also from wealthy families. Not everyone gets to have these.

You appreciate it but... You already had a pair of winter boots, the ones from last year, and the year before that. And the year before that, and a week ago where your brother is freaking out about you potentially having frostbite on your toes.

"It's the latest model! It was released as a part of a Christmas special, it will keep you warm and protect your feet too. It was selling out fast, I'm so glad I managed to get a pair for you, I can't have my sweetiepie sad on Christmas day!" Gushed your brother. You slipped them on.

You can't tell the difference between the one you had last year and the one on your feet now. Maybe some minor difference in it's stylistic design but... they're equally as comfortable.

You thanked your brother and finally gave him what he actually wanted from all this: a hug. He put away his phone and returned the embrace, sinking so deep into your jacket that neither of you can move without stumbling. You know he expected you to show gratitude for all his gifts through his main love language; touch.

It is exhausting.

After that, he brought you out to his private plot of land which he made into a park, complete with swingsets, monkey bars and slides. But these aren't for the public, it's for you. All the equipment are well maintained and look brand new even though you know it's been there for years.

He's not fond of throwing snowballs because it could hurt you. But he allows you to throw as much as you want at him. Even after the stunt you pulled last year.

You packed snow around a rock and hurled at him with all your might, it went straight to his head and his right eye was busted for months. Your brother didn't see that as something wrong, though. Even if you tried to apologize, he said that it was an accident and it was alright, he still loves you dearly and you did 'nothing wrong'. The first thing he did after recovering from his injuries at the hospital is to take you out for hot chocolate and then give you a backrub back home because winter could make your muscles stiff; and hence you must feel strained and sore.

He was still mildly bleeding from his gauze at the time, it was covering at least 70% of his upper head. Your brother was clueless when you asked if he needs any painkiller for his recent injury. He claimed to not feel the pain, but his wincing tells you otherwise. He rewarded you for your concern nonetheless with hugs and kisses and another massage.

You laid yourself on the snowy ground and started making snow angels. Your brother had his camera out and began capturing every moment he has with you.

You felt uncomfortable. And the cold is nipping at your bones even though you're thoroughly insulated by the sophisticated winter gear your brother made you wear. You're ready to go home now.

It shocked your brother and made him a bit desperate. He stammered and stumbled over his words, asking you if you wanted to play on the swing, build a snow man, play on the slides, the merry go around and... throw snowballs at him. Are you cold? He was in the middle of removing his own jacket to layer it onto you, but you stopped him.

You said you're tired. You don't find this fun and you're too old for this.

Maybe you're thirsty? He packed a flask filed with steaming hot chocolate for you- no? You're not thirsty or hungry? Maybe you wanted to use the bathroom-- no? You don't have to go?

He tried listing out all the possible reasons you wanted to go home and all its' solutions. Desperately wanting you to stop growing up so fast.

You got sick and tired of this, you yelled at him at the top of your lungs that you wanted to go home. You then stormed away towards the car, leaving your brother to stand there in silence, his camera capturing your explosive outburst.

Your brother saw you slamming the door angrily as you got in.

He sighed, gulping and hovering his finger over the delete button. But he ultimately decided against erasing the footage, it's still a video of you after all. Your brother assured that he's coming to the car, he wipes a stray tear away as he heads to his vehicle.

The both of you stayed silent as he drove you home.

Once you arrived, you bolted out of the car and ran back in. Locking yourself in the bedroom and barricading the door with random furniture. Hugging your knees close to your chest as you pray that your brother does not go after you by climbing into your windows.

And... he didn't. He left you alone for once. For a few hours too. It gave you the much needed relief, you felt like you could breathe now.

You're starting to feel a bit hungry. And you're hungry enough to be willing to face your older brother. So you began unbarricading, placing your dressers to it's original place.

You carefully unlocked the door, fully expecting him to be waiting outside for you. To your surprise, no one was in the hallway. You could hear some noises downstairs, in the kitchen.

You cautiously went down, the tree is still intact. Nothing is broken and there doesn't seem to be signs of a fight. You released a breath that you didn't know that you were holding, happy to know that you don't need to spend another Christmas at the hospital visiting your badly battered parents.

You whipped your head to the sound of your brother calling your name softly. He's holding a baking tray and a bowl, you can't tell what is in there because he's too tall. He smiled at you as he set it down on the dining table. The tray contained freshly baked parts of a gingerbread house and the bowl contained vanilla frosting.

You scanned the rest of the table. There are numerous small glass bowls containing different types of candy and snacks; from pretzel sticks to colourful chocolate rocks, to real gold leaves. Piping bags with metal tips are present too next to a box of plastic gloves.

Your brother pulled your chair out and invited you to sit there. You did, and he called you a good girl. His good girl. As you put on a pair of plastic gloves, he kissed you on the temple.

You asked where your parents are. He said that they're preparing the food for dinner, which includes ham and a roast turkey. And 15 other dishes.

You quizzed on, asking if there will be more people coming in. He shook his head: no. It's only the four of you. In the meantime, you should enjoy yourself building this gingerbread house. He puts on his own pair of plastic gloves too and began filling the piping bag with icing.

The two of you worked in peace, you opting to decorate the house while he pipes the details on the gingerbread men.

There is only two, a large one and a smaller one. You can guess which represents who.

You noticed the odd choice of attaching the small one to the large one's torso. With strategic use of the candies and frosting, he made it look like the larger gingerbread man is carrying the smaller one on its hip. He piped your defining features onto the baby gingerbread, and piped his features on the larger one.

He noticed you staring, your brother asked if you had a hard time connecting the pieces with frosting and if you needed his help. You said no, you just need a spatula from the kitchen. He tried to get up from his seat, but you pushed him back down, saying that you can get it yourself. He pouted, telling you to be careful and not touch the knives or stoves. Your brother went back to obsessing over the details on his gingerbread men.

You went inside the kitchen and greeted your parents who are busy cooking. You go through the drawers to find a silicone spatula and decided to help pick up some stray food scraps on the floor, throwing them into the bin. But as soon as you step on the pedal and have the lid swing open, you saw two crushed, but perfectly edible, gingerbread men in the garbage bin.

You returned to the dining table to see that your big brother is proudly presenting his work. He said this represents you and him... as if you already haven't figured it out. He said he dreams of having you live with him in a perfect fantasy house, fantasy world where you never have to grow up. And he will always be there by your side, taking care of you till the end of time. You will be pampered and spoiled rotten, you don't have to do anything, you don't have to lift a finger. Your big brother will do everything for you. He would even breathe for you if he could.

You nodded in acknowledgement, too tired to engage with him. You sat back down, continued with the gingerbread house. You failed to notice the flicker of sadness in his eyes, your brother felt so neglected and unwanted these few years. He wished that you were a kid again so the both of you could play together and be happy. The more he tries to win your favour, the more distant you get from him. He is endlessly chasing and you are running non-stop.

The rest of the afternoon went by uneventfully, other than the fact that your big brother rests his head on your shoulder the whole time.

Now, it's time for dinner. You tried helping them bring out the dishes, your brother praised you for being a darling as usual. He lets you have the first bite of the turkey, tearing a small inconspicuous piece of flesh from the bird and hand feeding it to you. It's still warm, juicy and delicious. Maybe it's the feeling of being special that makes it even tastier.

You chew as you brought out the casserole, setting it down on the table.

You looked at the spread. It looks like a buffet at a high end hotel. So many varieties and extremely nutritious.

Your brother fixed your napkin bib for you again and took food for you. Slumping in your seat, you were thinking of protesting but you knew it's easier to just wait for him to carve the best parts of the turkey for you and let the food pile up neatly on your plate first. He returned it to you, all your favourite dishes are on it within sensible portions. But these are still a lot of food for a person.

He didn't care about praying. Your brother wanted you to eat as soon as possible because you must be hungry. And it is absolute sacrilege to let you go hungry.

You insisted that you join your parents in saying grace and you're not that hungry. Your brother looks uncomfortable, still believing in his sick mind that you're starving to the point of emaciation. But since you are adamant in doing such 'pointless' things In his mind, he agrees, only if he leads it.

Everyone bowed their head down and held each others' hands.

Your brother said the shortest, most insincere, laziest grace ever. Once he fulfilled your requirement, he urged you to eat.

You're upset, you felt really angry and you thought he was mocking you instead. So you opted to eat alone in your room, you made it clear that you didn't want anyone in. Especially not your big brother.

He cried out a desperate plea to get you to stay with him. You ignored him and took a couple more of your favourite finger foods. Predicting a fight between your brother and your parents.

You wrenched your arm away from his powerful grip and fled the scene, hurrying up the flight of stairs. Only slowing down when you're out of sight.

As you thought, sounds of verbal fighting started resonating throughout the house. You heard your brother screaming his head off at your parents for being bad influences and poisoning you to hate him. Your parents defended themselves and this only fuelled the fire. You didn't want to be around when your brother started hurling chairs, so you slammed the door as hard as you could. The sudden loud noise did stop the commotion downstairs briefly. But it continued soon after.

You ate alone, in your barricaded room. Wishing that you're born into a 'normal' family, with 'normal' trauma. To a lot of people, you are complaining about a blessing. But you are always feeling alone, the only person facing a problem which everyone sees as a solution.

You scraped the last bits of food with your spoon. Waiting for the sounds of the ambulance or at least for the fighting to quiet down.

You looked at the clock. It's 1 AM. It's been relatively quiet for a while now, they should be finishing up their fight or cleaning up. Time for you to return your plate.

You grunted as you pushed the furniture away from your door which felt like the umpteenth time. You left your room and head downstairs.

Hearing soft sobs from one person, your brother. He's sitting in front of the tree, hugging the present you left for him earlier. The presents addressed to your parents are both missing, presumably being taken back to their room. A blanket is loosely draped around his shoulders.

You took slow steps, unsure if you should comfort him or not. But before you can even decide to chicken out, he spotted you. However, to your surprise, he didn't approach you or tell you to come forward. He gave you a soft assuring smile, before returning his attention to the tree.

You set your plate aside and went by his side. Your brother watched you with puffy eyes full of love, yet it tells you that he has been irreparably hurt by something... or an accumulation of things.

"Thank you..." He whispered, refering to the gift you gave him. It isn't something particularly valuable to you. It's a picture of the entire family in a photo frame. Your brother is going to cherish it, because it is a gift from the person he loves most in the world. But deep down, he secretly wishes that it was a photo of you and him alone.

He still looks extremely upset and distraught. Almost like he is at the brink of a breakdown. Your brother usually verbalizes what he wanted, but he couldn't this time.

You wonder what your parents got for him. You peeked over his shoulder to see that an unopened box containing a plain T-shirt and a pair of socks is carelessly discarded to the corner of the room.

Then, it clicked. Just like you, he felt alone. Maybe you will never understand why he holds you so dear in his heart. Just like how no one will understand him either, his struggles are unique to him with no one to relate.

He destroyed the relationship between himself and your parents. His friends are all superficial. You're grown up and constantly rejecting his love.

Not a single one of you paid attention to him. Yes, it is hard to think of a present for someone who has everything. But they could have put in a bit more effort, the colour of the shirt and socks aren't even in his favourite colour or in the correct size. You could have removed your parents from the photo, your brother will never remove it himself. Because that would mean defacing your gift for him.

And growing up, your parents never saw him as... a person. As someone with feelings and a personality. They only saw his value as a trophy piece to show off to their friends and family. Same goes to his friends now, if it wasn't for his skills and possessions, he would be nothing to anyone.

He had to beg to be loved. Even that isn't reliable, he could give it his all and everyone around him will expect more. Your brother could never dream of being the receiving end of his own affection. It seems like an impossibility to him.

Perhaps he is doing all of these despite getting nothing but disgust and disdain from you is all to protect your innocence, to not put you through what he had to face. It's just that he went about it the wrong way. Or maybe he is just... wrong in the head. Or maybe he was hoping by loving you so much, you would give him the intense type of love he was yearning for his entire life.

Either way, he is alone.

The both of you are now seated in front of the fireplace. You didn't want to open presents, your brother is okay with that. He did not nag you to do it for once. Snuggling closer, the both of you shared a blanket. He still looks unhappy and crestfallen.

You remember you still had the ribbon bow on your head.

He hovered his arms around you as you squirm in his grip. You managed to crawl into his lap and rest your head on his chest. He lets out a chuckle and some sniffles, clamping his arms back down around you.

You reminded him of one last gift. Your brother is confused until he saw your ribbon.

From that moment on, he burst into tears of joy. He found you so unbearably adorable, so unbearably cute that his heart couldn't take it. An excited squeak escaped his lips as he held you even tighter. Peppering kisses all over your face, neck and head.

He started blabbering in baby talk, calling you every pet name and listing out everything he loved about his 'gift'. Repeating that this is the best gift he ever received and this is all he ever wanted. You are all he ever wanted. Praising that you remembered what he loves.

You hope that he could feel a little less lonely tonight. You can't peer into his head and know exactly what is going on inside. But you knew, he was happy.

Your breathing calmed him down and he closed his eyes, nuzzling against your neck. The collar of your shirt wet from his tears and your arms are secure around him. Your brother mumbled "I love you." as he adjusted you on his lap. Pressing your form against his, enjoying the heat that the both of you shared. Wishing that this moment will never end and you will never part from him.

You realized another thing too as he strokes your hair.

Your older brother is the only person in the world who harbors true, undying, unconditional love for you.

Even though he has his flaws, there will be no one else like him. Ever.

So you closed your eyes and melt into him. Just like before, you felt safe.

The both of you fell alseep in front of the hearth, surrounded by gifts, mostly unopened ones. Snowflakes floating down from the skies and landing delicately at the edge of the roof. Feeling unburdened and content in the living room.

Merry Christmas.

[azaracyy]

to the next stage of our adventure! digimon survive week 2024 day 7: post-game / future personal thoughts under the cut - less about the artwork and more about shuuji and lopmon themselves. a long rambling containing major spoilers and heavy topics. will cause whiplash. proceed with caution.

other than the fact this may be boring and long-winded, cw and tw: there will be mentions of self-harm and suicide. if these topics make you uncomfortable, please step back. if you're sure, then alright. i'm aware this is a weird place to ramble about shuuji and lopmon considering the notorious highlight of their story would match the themes of day 5 (villains) and day 6 (dark & loss) better. unfortunately (ironically?) i never planned to feature them for those days, so... pretty sure i'm not the only one feeling this, but when i discovered that a good part of the fandom seems to loathe shuuji with utmost passion, even after they claimed to have completed the game, i was confused. the way his death happened and (understanding) the cause made me uncomfortable for a while, but never drove me to the point of hate... once i recovered from the initial shock, what i felt towards him was more pity, then respect (on truthful route). i feel shuuji should have been one of the most appreciated characters in survive. yet it was the opposite that happened. (between you and me though, knowing there was this discourse with the fact digimon survive is a visual novel, i'm not that surprised it turned out this way...) from my point of view, lopmon evolving into wendimon then killing shuuji symbolizes suicide, the act of taking one's own life. it was the climax of shuuji's mental breakdown, leading him to basically self-destruct, causing damage to everyone around him and ultimately himself. lopmon evolved, just like he hoped. but failed to do it like other kemonogami partners (maintaining control of themselves and fending off enemies). the next and final outcome was death, through his own partner actually eating him alive too. it reminds me how when someone thought they have prepared well for something important yet it failed spectacularly, the devastation and frustration would eat them in the same way from inside. and they probably would for one second think, "i'm better off dead". the more i pondered about it, the more it hit home, so of course, the last thing i could do is hate him, when his struggles sound similar to my own - having to rely on consistent achievements to prove your value, to feel you are worth living and not a waste of resources. the part where shuuji went all abusive on lopmon felt like the equivalent of pushing yourself to the extreme to reach your goal, to the point of neglecting your own needs. it's like a student so absorbed in their study, sacrificing food and sleep, until their body eventually snaps and shuts down for good (...this in fact happened to one of the students at my previous workplace. she was in her last year of high school. life was just about to truly start for her when her classmate informed us of her sudden death). even in truthful route where shuuji and lopmon survive that point, things aren't immediately nice and easy for him. you can see that he still has self-doubts, and what i think is impostor's syndrome. he could be making a great contribution to the team and still put himself down for having done "nothing". i have found it interesting that artists and writers tend to be especially fond of shuuji. so perhaps it's not just the matter of one's upbringing - whether you were raised in a harsh, competitive environment and/or with family with (unreasonably) high standards so you can relate more easily to him - but also whether one can see just what every struggle shuuji and lopmon went through symbolizes shuuji's mental state. out of all survive characters, i think shuuji and lopmon pulled off this thing called "surviving" the hardest, no joke. which is why i almost always gravitate to drawing them happy because that's what they deserve :') after all this, what i also would like to say is, it's okay if a character makes you uncomfortable. it's okay if you hate a character. but never, ever bring down the character to people who like them or even consider them their favorite or comfort character. if you must, do it in your own space and only with like-minded people.

[professionallyyappinabtangst]

Done

TW- IMPLIED CHEATING, Misunderstandings, Cursing, break-up?, abandonment I feel like I missed some WC - 1193 A/N- The funny thing is Asher wasn't even in the lineup for a fic, but when I got tagged in a post. I bumped him up! so enjoy fresh asher angst.

Baaabe looked down at their phone. Canceled again, the third time this week. What the hell was he doing? It wasn’t just pack stuff, it wasn’t something they shouldn’t worry about. Ever since that last pack meeting.. He and Milo have been closer than usual, why should they be worried about it? They didn’t know.. But no doubt he canceled their date to go do something with him. What were they doing? No clue. Baaabe sat their phone down. They looked at the television. Had their relationship really come to this?

They saw a future with Asher. Did he see a future with another? Was Milo helping him achieve that? They could’ve just asked Milos's mate about it. But what they would be implying would be less than savory. ‘’ oh yeah I think your mate is helping mine cheat.’’ they didn’t want to involve them in this mess. This is something Asher and them needed to talk about. Whenever he chose to get home. After all instead of going out to the nice dinner you planned. 

He had decided to go out and do something with that.. Person. Hell you don’t even know them, you missed the introduction meeting. And Asher never properly introduced you two. Maybe that made you a little upset..no it made you jealous. The man who slept beside you every night. Who brought you flowers. Who’d cried with you whenever you two watched those cheesy rom-coms. The same man who built you up, so you were confident even to meet the pack. the same man you promised to spend the rest of your life with. The same damn man who you helped recover after the inversion. The same man who you comforted throughout every bad moment. Every sad one.

The man who you swore was being unfaithful.. Baaabe got up and walked over to the counter. Still lost in their thoughts. Were they just being paranoid? Were they worrying for no reason? God why was this so fucking annoying! Why did they love him so damn much? How could someone not? He is perfect.. And when he laughs.. His smile..his everything. The tears in the back of their eyes threatened to spill as they took off their engagement ring. The fact they couldn’t trust a man who would lay down his life for them.

They stopped holding back the tears as they held their ring close to their chest. Was it jealousy? Or paranoia? Because it wasn’t trust. To think one person ruined their loving home without even trying made their heart hurt more. Someone you hadn’t even met had you convinced the man you’ve known for almost 5 years was cheating on you. What was wrong with you? Did you really think so lowly of the man you planned on calling your husband? Baaabe’s legs started to feel like jelly. Shaking as if they were about to give out from up under them. 

Until they didn’t. Strong arms caught them. They always did, and they always would. They wanted to speak. They wanted to let them know how they felt. They wanted him to know they were done feeling like this. They would leave if they needed to. But they needed to speak. But once again.. Asher was calming them down. Whispering sweet nothings in their ear. Holding them. Telling them everything was going to be okay. Baaabe didn’t notice him sliding the fallen ring back on their finger. And like that, they were reminded why they loved him so much. 

Asher had no idea why his partner was crying. Was it something he did?.. Maybe.. He didn’t know. All he knew was that they were crying and he didn’t like that. He had already felt bad for canceling the date. They had spent so long planning it, and the new member needed help with something. Yeah, he could have said no.. but he couldn’t. And he guessed this was his punishment. Seeing them like this stung, but actions have consequences. 

Asher and his partner made their way to the bedroom. Asher laid them down on the sloppy mess he called a bed. They weren’t sleeping, they did look tired though. And in need of some cuddle time. Moving, some of the blankets and joining them. He wrapped them in his arms, they didn’t protest. They looked him in the eyes. 

‘’ i.. I’ll miss this..’’ baaabe muttered under their breath. Ash eyed them weirdly, before placing a single kiss on their forehead. He’d missed them too. A lot.. His worry disappeared when he saw them smile and snuggle closer into him. The warmth was overwhelming for the wolfie boy. He closed his eyes and drifted off into the sleepy lands. 

However the other in his arms could not sleep. They turned to face the other direction. The ring found its way back on their finger. The guilt began to eat at them again… he came home and wrapped you in his arms while you were crying because you were jealous of a random stranger you nothing about. You thought your man.. The one holding you.. The one who would do anything for you.. 

Baaabe felt the tears build up in their eyes again. Soon it spilled on the pillows. They couldn’t do it anymore. They couldn’t lie in the same bed. They couldn’t sit here with this one thought in their mind constantly. They needed to know he was being loyal.. There was no doubt he was being loyal. It’s Asher.. He doesn’t have a cheating bone in his body. They carefully climbed out of his arms and reached for his phone. As they unlocked it and scrolled through his messages their heart sank. Nothing.. Like they thought, Ash didn’t have a cheating bone in his body. 

They felt sick to their stomach. In the back of their mind, they hoped Asher cheated.. Hoping he wasn’t what he seemed. But.. he continued to prove them wrong… by being that same man from the elevator. The same man they fell head over heels for. The same fucking man they proposed to. The same man who cared about them more than they seemed to trust him. They didn’t deserve him.. And he deserved better. 

Baabe stood and once again they took off their ring. Placing it on the nightstand right next to his phone. They needed to go. They didn’t know where but they needed to leave. They had to go. What good was this relationship if they didn’t trust their lover? Could they just up and leave him like this?

they’d have to.. Just before they left their eyes glanced longingly at their wolf lover. Sleeping peacefully, his chest going up and down. His hair a mess over the bed, and a little line of drool going down the side of his mouth. 

The sight only caused more tears to roll down their face. Committing the sight to memory they shut the door. And walked out of his life for good. It was best this way. Or at least that’s what they’re telling themself. As they leave and start driving wherever the night will take them.  

~~~~~~

Taglist @ashertickler

[ceilidho]

Do you have any advice on doing a character study for a character before writing them? Stuff like how they’d act/respond 👁👄👁

haha it's quite tricky, I won't lie! it's definitely one of the things I struggle with the most (writing really well-rounded and defined characters). Here are a couple things that I do, but keep in mind that I'm reeaaalllyyyy not an expert on this. I'm still learning so much about characterization every day.

If you're writing fanfiction, watch or read the source material as much as possible, until you can almost hear the way the character sounds in your head. Take time to understand things like their accent and how they speak (do they talk a lot or very little? do they use slang or enunciate everything? do they speak quickly or slowly?). Here, you just want to concentrate on the cadence of their speech / their speech patterns. If they speak plainly or use lots of proverbs or turns of phrases, that sort of thing. If you have that down, you've honestly done half the work. Even I often reread my work and go "fuck, all of these people SOUND the same even though they're saying different things".

This is harder if you're not writing fanfiction and have to create your own universe, but regardless of whether you're writing for an existing IP or your own 'verse, I think understanding your character's cultural and religious background is so crucial to developing them. It's a big part of the lens through which they see the world, whether consciously (if they're a very religious character for example, or raised in a specific country) or subconsciously (for example, I grew up catholic so I relate to the world through that lens, even though I'm not a religious person - it just heavily informed me in my childhood years). For this Bear story, I had to do a bit of research around Baptist theology because I knew Bear would be a religious character (whether or not he's struggling with that religion) and it would heavily inform how he sees the world around him. I listened to some sermons, talked to someone with a Baptist background, and also thought about how that background with tie into his desire to have a family).

Pick like 3-5 words that you think best describe your character and just write them down somewhere. I've never been very successful when I make huge character sheets for my characters or try to write a super detailed background for them, so I try to give myself a bit of grace and be brief about it. You can always expand on it going forward. Like for someone like Bear, I might pick: family-oriented, religious (Christian), gruff, and scrupulous. You can also do this in the reverse way and try to think of what they're not (same example with Bear, I might go: conniving, hedonistic, flighty, and optimistic LMAO). This is a nice way to put like, boundaries around your character.

In the framework of your story, try to pick a trajectory for your character, or a goal. At least have one, but you could have a couple. If they're directionless, that works too! But they should want something or aspire to be something. This counts even if they think that thing they want is beyond them or unattainable - it's still a want/goal pushing them forward. This can also be an unconscious goal by the way -> like a very hedonistic character that likes to party who's slowly getting worn down from that life and doesn't even realize they want to settle down, or vice versa! Someone who feels trapped in their mundane life but thinks that's what's expected of them. The character doesn't have to know they want this goal.

Fatal flaws. This is a big one. What is something that might get in the way of them achieving their goal or might influence how they get it? Easiest way to think of this is just looking at the 7 deadly sins (soooo corny, but it's a good place to start). Characters are never perfect, so give them a reason to struggle.

And honestly lastly? Trial and error, baby. Take your vaguely defined character and figure out what you want them to achieve (whether or not they get it is beside the point), and then work out how they might go about achieving that. If they'd run full throttle towards it because they think they deserve it or whether they'd fight it every step of the way because they either don't think they want it or don't think they deserve it.

I'm sorry if this is very messy!! It also totally depends on you as a writer. When I try to make "character background sheets", it gives me anxiety and I end up not following through with my writing versus when I try to keep it brief and just dive into the writing and slowly change things and edit as I write. But maybe a sheet works best for you!

[jrow]

May Prompt (22)

Day 21 here. Start from the beginning here. Day 23 here.

Night

The night has always been his saviour.

No matter how bad things are, he’s always known he’ll survive if he makes it to the night.

As a child, the night provided refuge from the people he didn’t understand and expectations he could never meet.

By university he knew the language of the masses, but also knew they would never understand his. The nights alone—away from the judgment and ridicule of his peers—were the main reason he survived.

As an adult, nights are where he’s done his best thinking, the dark and quiet acting as a catalyst for creative thinking and snowballing of ideas. Most people lose their grasp of reality at night, with anxiety and self doubt taking over. It’s the opposite for him—the answers, the truth, often become clear when the rest of the world is asleep.

When he was on the run, the nights kept him sane. It was only under dark skies that he allowed himself to think of home. To think of John. To imagine fairytales of what might await his return. He always knew they were just fantasies, but they kept him going.

These past few days, night has served as his North Star, his goal. God, he loves Rosie, but …. well, after dealing with the chaos that is a toddler, it’s nice to love her when she’s quieting and sleeping like an angel.

This evening has been … a challenge. There is a ten step process for bedtime. Each step is absolutely essential—as he learned the hard way that time he tried to skip step six, walking the dirty clothes the hamper. Tonight, Rosie fought every step of the routine and it took nearly an hour and a half.

He understands why. It was a day of “big feelings” for the both of them. The three of them, actually. Because John is home.

John was discharged in the late afternoon and Rosie had been a ball of excited nervous energy since then. Lots of jumping. Lots of falling. Lots of smiles. Lots of tears. Lots of everything.

Lots.

He had insisted on doing bedtime. It was better for him everyone. Rosie has gotten used to him over the past few days and John is still … well … fragile in a way. John had put up a cursory argument but was tired himself and quickly acquiesced.

And now, Rosie is asleep and she is safe. When she wakes, she will be precocious and funny and perfect. That he has had some hand in that may be his greatest achievement.

He closes the door to her room and makes his way to John’s. Now that Rosie is sleeping—now that it is night—he has time to work on the case.

It’s funny in a way how things change. If something like this had happened when he first met John, he would have left him alone in the hospital and been off working on the case immediately. Wouldn’t even have heard about the assassination attempt. If this had happened after knowing John for a year, he would have kidnapped John from the hospital so they could work on the case together, health consequences be damned. If this had happened around the time John got married, he would have spent every second focused on finding the man who attempted to murder John. Then he would have killed him. Then he would have solved the case. Then he would have visited John.

But now … well, solving the case is important but it’s hardly the priority. At least not during the day when the world is awake. But now it’s night.

John should be going to sleep—the man is clearly exhausted. But the fool wants to help. So they struck a deal. They would work together in John’s room, with John lying in bed. He is sure John will fall asleep in no time.

“I thought I’d start going through the pile of new surveillance footage,” John says through a yawn.

Yes, John will be asleep in within 5 minutes.

“Good idea, I’ll go through the case files. Something connects these stores, I just need to find out what,” he says, plopping down in the chair at the foot of the bed.

He had thought the thefts were random—crimes of opportunity—but now he sees everything was planned to a t. Which means the stores, and the order they were targeted, were picked for a reason.

Ten minutes later, John drops the tablet he’s been watching before startling awake.

“Go to bed, John,” he says quietly, picking up the tablet and gently moving it to the side table.

“Mmmkay,” says John, laying his head on his pillow before mumbling, “big plans tomorrow.”

“What’s that?” he asks quietly, not expecting an answer.

But he gets one, mumbled as it is. “We should go for cake. Three of us. Is the weekend. Cake then gift.”

He freezes. The gift. He’d almost forgotten. It seems like so long ago. It seems like it just happened.

“We don’t need to…” he starts, but stops as he sees John is asleep.

God damn it, Mycroft is right. He hates when Mycroft is right. He needs to tell John the truth about the chase. About John’s fall. He needs a do over or whatever the hell the term is. If he tells John, then maybe he can open that damn gift without his guilt eating him alive.

He picks up the tablet to move it to the sitting room. The screen wakes up, revealing the final image John was looking at. A young couple at the counter in New Cavendish, looking at rings, presumably. A uniformed constable is leaving.

His eyes go wide and he drops the tablet, diving to get the case notes he was just reading. Yes, there it is. The owner of Cox and Power explaining the store had been visited by a friendly unnamed constable the day the store was robbed.

He drops to the floor and crosses his legs, arranging all the notes so they are laid out in front of him. The sound of John snoring softly acting as his soundtrack.

It’s time to work.

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

[dizzyduck44]

Why Hungary was so hollow

An F1 win is an amazing achievement. One of the pinnacles of a drivers career. As a fan, we remember the ones that carry real weight to them, that come with a backstory, a driver we have felt has been unfortunate in the past, a truly spectacular drive.

Most of the drivers on the current F1 grid fall into that category. Pierre’s spectacular drive at Monza, the sheer weight of emotion for Charles at Spa, the feeling of justice for Lewis in Canada, the absolutely fairytale nature of Max in Barcelona, after driving brilliantly for 3 years against the might of that Red Bull car we all felt Lando deserved that win in Miami and who can forget the spectacular last to first debut win of Checo in Sakir when he was facing the end of his career.

We cherish them because they were special, earned, deserved. It’s what makes people cry over this sport and watch it all their life.

And this is why what happened in Hungary makes me uncomfortable and goes against the nature of what makes this sport special.

Team orders are not new. Hell Valtteri is cracking jokes about them now. For me they came to the forefront in the Michael Schumacher Ferrari days. And they were not liked. They were booed on the podium and on one occasion even messed it up and had the wrong driver win on the line. However it became accepted that if you want to win a championship, you had to resort to it.

And my God did Mercedes and Red Bull resort to it!

However it was going on further down the field for constructors points. I’ve never hidden from the fact that Carlos and Lando’s first podiums for McLaren required team orders (and penalties for Hamilton). We have seen Kevin gain more penalty points than actual points this season carrying out team orders. I swear Fernando is in charge of Aston’s and previously Alpine’s team orders. Somehow it became the norm to apply team orders for any situation and that was never going to end well.

Dispute it all you want Monza 2021 was a race decided on team orders, (confirmed yet again last week by Zak Brown) and at the point maybe people should have sat up, took notice and realised this is a bit of a slippery slope we are on. But no it was 2021, the Max and Lewis show, so a lot of other things got ignored.

And so to Hungary 2024. Now this is not analysis of why McLaren pitted who when, or why they now admit it never occurred to them they might be under pressure from people behind (seriously McLaren. SERIOUSLY!!!). Or the radio messages 🤬🤬🤬 Or the fact that apparently Lando was the reason this all went tits up ?!?!?!?!? We are going to look at how team orders have now handed a driver their first win in circumstances almost impossible to justify and seemingly implying they are banking that favour for later in the season.

There are two things that are key to this. Firstly the start and then everything that happened around the second pitstops.

Oscar got the lead yes, but then Max took 7 laps to let Lando through and only when threatened with a penalty, gifting Oscar that lead.

However Oscar’s first little off road adventuring just before the second pitstop changed a lot in the race. Lando caught him up. Now that nice gap McLaren had to double stack had gone.

They called Lando in as Lewis was 9 seconds behind, in out, 2 laps later Oscar in, out. Up to now this its straight forward. Simple switcharoo, easy 1-2.

Then Oscar went off the track again. This puts him 3 seconds behind Lando and 7 seconds ahead of Lewis. He is now closer to Lewis than Lando was before the pitstops.

At this point McLaren should have gone into save the race mode, instead they were transfixed on what they thought was going to happen 5 laps ago.

And what resulted from this was embarrassing not only for McLaren but F1. Team orders resulted in a driver slowing down a nearly 7 second lead to give his team mate who admitted he couldn’t catch him, his first win. And like most people I sat there thinking, WTF!

We watch F1 for the racing, the intelligence required to predict the best way forward to win the race. The necessity of the perfect pitstop and keeping the car on the grey stuff. It cheapens it when team orders gets used so flagrantly.

I’ve seen McLaren do this before in 1997 with Mika Hakkinen) however difference being Mika was a driver that nearly died in a crash in 1995. He had been on the grid a while and when McLaren rocked up with their missile in 1997 the drivers made an agreement whoever lead into the first corner of the first race could have the win. Mika led most of the race and then misheard a garbled radio message (no digital back then) and came into the pits when he didn’t need to. Coulthard was asked to give the place back and did (and we know how that ended, see Hungarian commentary for proof). End result people felt that win for Hakkinen was deserved, earned.

Hungary didn’t have the same sense of fairness about it. It wasn’t the first or last race of the season, no championships have been decided, every point counts. Oscar yes had driven a great 2/3rds of the race. But tiny errors had put him in the position he was in. If it was merely the undercut then that would have been resolved quickly. It came down to errors and lack of pace at the end. If you can’t catch the leader, how the hell can you expect to lead?

I used to think Esteban had the luckiest win on the F1 grid with Bottas bowling 7 cars at the start of the race. Nope this now takes that honour.

Let’s remember currently this is not for a championship (people would argue it hinders the championship). This was team orders because they can. The first time Oscar had every found himself near a win and despite the fact in any other circumstances he would have to take those mistakes as lessons learnt, McLaren gave him the win, because they think they are going to need him to return the favour later in the season. (Which means we will be going through this shitshow again).

That’s what sours the win and makes it feel hollow. Yes at some point any driver in a front running team is going to be gifted a win but not their first and not so obviously. It cheapens the credit of an F1 win period.

And I feel for those drivers who put in years of work at teams with non competitive cars. Who drove brilliantly. Who when the time came had to fight for that first win, case in point Seb or Jenson. Or had their first wins taken from them by the team’s errors, think Lando and George. There is no sense of accomplishment for Oscar.

Lando didn’t spoil that moment for Oscar. It’s hard to celebrate a win that doesn’t feel like it was earned.

The worst part of this, we all knew Oscar would win a race eventually. This didn’t need to be done at all. This for me feels like Max’s first title. Will always be questioned because of outside assistance, was it earned or was it gifted?

Hungary 2024 is not a race F1 should look back on fondly.

[octuscle]

Is it that easy ? Ok here I Go.. "Baggage Claim", then I give you my destination. BEG. Yes, that was it!

You and your buddies are on vacation in Croatia. And there you thought a suitcase from Belgrade could be useful. Of course, Serbs and Croats have not always been the best of friends. But let's see what develops. At least it's a huge sports bag that you got there. There should be enough stuff in it for the three of you. Even if most things are rather too big for you.

The sun is setting, the beach day is over. Your buddies help themselves to their clothes. You try out something from the bag from Belgrade. Yes, the T-shirt is too big. But somehow it feels good. It gives you strength and self-confidence. And even if you were always the smallest of the three of you, tonight you are somehow the leader of your little group. Although you just arrived this morning, you somehow know your way around the place. You feel a bit at home. And you speak a few words of the strange language.

The next morning, you grab a pair of shorts and running shoes from the gym bag. It's only 5:30 in the morning, but a run on the beach at sunrise is great and part of the vacation for you. When you arrive sweaty in your hotel room, your mates are still snoring. Let them, it's vacation after all. You pack your things for the beach and start the beach day in the outdoor gym with a few pull-ups.

Your lads spend most of the day on their beach loungers. You have to work off your excess energy. While you're at it, you make friends with some of the other lads on the workout machines. There are also a couple of Serbians, so communication is easier with them. But your Croatian is also getting better and better. The only thing that annoys you are your curls, which are always wet with sweat. You ask a local to give you a tip on where you can get a proper haircut. You plunge into the nightlife with your pals with very short hair.

After your lads have slept away the next day on the beach, you urge them to join you for a training session before dinner. You throw them something from the sports bag to wear. And you urge them to work out on the machines. You can afford it, God knows you've worked out enough today. After you have completed your program, it's straight to dinner. Unshowered. And not back to your hotel either, you go to the restaurant of one of your workout partners. Your lads finally have to get something decent to eat. Raw meat instead of fried stuff. And then it's off to bed early.

During the sunrise run, your pals' clothes are still very loose. You can't say that about your shirt. But hey, you have a few years of workout and experience ahead of them. And they really try hard. And tonight, after the day at the seaside, it's off to get a haircut. Those two look like girls.

If your lads really want to achieve something, an open-air gym like this might be a nice change. And it's also good for a basic tan. But you also have to go to a real gym. To the really heavy weights. So that your youngsters become real heavyweights, too. And if the two behave well today, it goes tonight as a reward again in the tattoo studio. After all, the muscles need to be decorated. And as a good coach, you have to take the stick and give them the carrot.

[sunshineyoujustwait]

seventeen million years late to this, as usual, but now that I have five minutes to spare- better late than never!

Tag Game:

tagged by the wonderful, talented and gorgeous @cupidskissx ily and apologies this took 5 business days to respond to

rule(s): post a snippet (however long or short or longish or shortish) from a wip !!

this is a longer snippet from a work I started ages ago and completely forgot about, I may return to it now that I remembered it exists lmao

“Do you ever wonder, like, is there supposed to be something more than this?”

Charles rolls his eyes, glancing over to where Max is laid out on his balcony, beer dangling precariously from one hand. “Max, it’s the new year, not the end of the world.” Max huffs at him, takes another sip of his beer. “That’s not what I mean, it’s just- what’s next, you know?” Charles glances longingly at the glass double doors leading back into the apartment, wonders if Max would notice if he just dipped from this entire conversation. Lando and Carlos are playing beer pong, and it’s suddenly looking very appealing.  He sighs, turning back to the blonde beside him. “What’s next for you is probably more race wins, maybe a third championship.” Charles tries not to sound bitter, he’s not sure how successful he is.  “Sorry,” Max winces a little. “I know you should probably hate me right now.” I’m trying to, Charles thinks, but I can’t. It’s an unfair thought really, none of this is Max’s fault. There’s plenty of blame to go around for the mess that was last season and Max doesn’t deserve any of it. Still, it feels like it would be easier to hate him, if that was something he was capable of doing.  Max rolls over onto his stomach, narrowly avoiding falling off the hammock he’s curled himself into. “Winning is great and all, and I love racing, but it just feels a little hollow or something, lately. We fly across the world, we race, we come home, rinse and repeat, same thing every week.” Charles glances at Max where he’s sprawled out across the hammock. He looks fine, a little drunk maybe, but not like someone on the verge of an existential crisis. His hair is flopping into his eyes and Charles’ hands twitch with a sudden desire to run his fingers through the errant strands. It’s not a new feeling, exactly, it’s just that sometimes when he looks at Max under the lights like this, soft and relaxed, it makes his breath catch in his throat and his stomach whirl with an as of yet unnamed feeling.  Other times, he just wants to strangle him. “Must be nice,” he mutters, “getting sick of winning.” Max groans. “Fuck off, you know that's not what I meant. It's just that, it feels like there should be something more, you know? Someone to share it all with, lights on when you come home, that sort of thing.” Charles doesn't know, not really, but he supposes it makes sense in a way. You achieve one dream - world champion, check (twice) - then you start seeking out the next. In Max's case that seems to be some sort of cosy picket fence. Like Maslow's hierarchy of needs, but for millionaires who drive fast cars for a living.  He's still stuck on the previous step of the pyramid though, so he's not feeling entirely charitable about it right now.  “Then date, find someone, it's not that complicated.” It comes out harsher than intended, but Charles is feeling a little lost at the direction of this conversation, and the image of Max settling down is rattling around in his brain for some reason, ugly and discordant.  Max is quiet for a moment, and Charles kind of maybe feels like a bit of an asshole.  “Tried that,” he says finally. “It didn’t exactly work out.” Charles definitely feels like an asshole then, winces at the words because, yeah, he did. There’d been a ring and everything, it had been a bit messy.  “Sorry,” he tries, but Max waves him off, shrugging. "Do you not get lonely?" "I date." Max snorts at that, which- rude.  “I have racing. I like racing. I'm not-” he gestures vaguely at Max's sprawled form- “losing it because I don’t have someone waiting for me when I come home. I’m happy.” “Yeah well, I guess it just doesn’t feel the same anymore.” “What doesn’t?” “Racing.” That catches Charles’ attention, sets the alarm bells ringing in his admittedly alcohol muddled mind. There are few constants in his life but Max and racing are two of them. 

Everyone has probably been tagged by now as I'm so late but if you see this and you haven't then plz, this is your invite!! Share all the snippets !!!

[fulltacs]

Fuck it… I’m here to call bullshit. Namely re: @/dmnkid ‘s claims of service.

I’m here to debunk some stuff since she makes it too easy. Sorry for length. Absolutely no pressure to post this of course as I respect all you’ve done already and get if you’d want to distance yourself from it.

Let’s start with her alleged MOS shall we? As of 2015 in America, women are able to try out for all combat roles without restriction. Dmnkid has said she’s been in for a decade or so, originally enlisting at 17 and that when she first entered, this was not the case.

She claims to:

A) be a member of the 75th rangers regiment, a highly competitive light infantry/special forces orientated MOS in which the first females only successfully graduated in 2015. The nature of ranger school makes it unlikely that you’d be able to enter straight off civie street and would have to have experience in an adjacent position (eg. MP officer, or like, the only female captain in the rangers, an infantry officer. Two positions that take a year or two at least to achieve)

B) have deployed on at least one combat operation to a hot zone. The US army rangers have not deployed with a woman since 2018/2019. That individual graduated ranger school soon after the roles came open to women.

She also suggested that her first stint in the army was one that required her to learn a second language which is most likely a HUMINT/cryptological linguist MOS (at least those are the names we give that role in my country) and that kind of service would be very unlikely to qualify her for the ranger school due to the combat heavy nature of its teachings.

Already a lot of things don’t line up. But little details I’d like to pick at, namely the use of lingo that seemed forced at best and cringeworthy and fake ass details.

If you call your fellow soldiers, sorry ‘soliders’, comrades unironically, you’d be laughed off base. Throwing in little bits of slang like ‘chair force’ randomly don’t qualify you especially when it’s pretty obvious you don’t understand the appropriate context to use them.

No, you wouldn’t be living purely off rations on an operation. The army hires chefs, it’s a full job on its own that people go to training for. If you ever actually serve you’d know that and would’ve eaten their food pretty frequently. If you’re special operations aligned, it’s unlikely you’d be free to share rations with the locals anyway (who probably rightfully are suspicious af of you) as your employment and presence in country is supposed to not attract attention. Sorry to burst your little white (?) saviour bubble.

2/5 not the worst Tom Clancy rip off I’ve ever read but still pretty shit.

Thing is, these guys keep mentioning that their concerns lay with how barracks bunny fics discredit or disrespect women that have or are serving. That’s fair, they’re allowed to feel that way as long as they don’t actively police anyone but their argument immediately falls short the second they create these fake personas and do stupid shit under them. Truth is, your enemy is rape culture, not people writing fanfic that is so disconnected from reality you could ignore.

These guys are single handedly doing a disservice to the women in the army, USMC etc by continually lying and doing weird things in the name of their fake service. You’re allowed to have gripes about how vets are treated and misinformation about the military but you’re doing nothing by sending anon hate to yourselves and should someone be dumb enough to target a genuine individual over the entire fucked up complex, you’ve created a boy who cried wolf scenario. Nice work.

@/dmnkid best of luck on your planned ‘military hiatus’. The proper word is exercise or operation btw <3

(Sorry this got long, love from the anon that wrote yesterday about her using genuine servicewoman’s suffering for her little Mary sue backstory lol)

YOU ICON!

-there’s maybe 100 female rangers that graduated from ranger school and who’s to say if they’re all active lmao. crazy odds! we have actual celebrities amongst us! first, one of soooo few marine gunners. what’s the next blog gonna be, one of SEVEN active female green berets?

-amongst the lingo criticisms, overuse of “civilian”. now you just sound like a fucking psychopathic Chr*s Kyl3 type. and I know the usage of that word was one of my gripes with the codslut blog, but she just can’t seem to figure out how to apply it correctly… 🤔

-“military hiatus” is something a South Korean boy band takes when they’re up for mandatory service. American forces use different verbiage, nice catch!

-and oh my god yes THE ENEMY IS RAPE CULTURE!!!

[midchelle]

how would you rank the beatles album covers?

like this:

13) "By the way, what happened to my idea of putting the parody of our first album cover on the Let It Be cover?” - John Lennon, 1971

Just uninspired. Good for coming up with conspiracy theories about the death of Paul McCartney but not much else.

12) Eyes Still Work After Seeing This? Includes a 24-Page Full Colour Picture Book!

Every time I look at this I find another bizarre thing, but that's not even the real issue because it fails on the basic level where you can figure out what the product is and who made it. The red tinting on the highlight behind the font they used to list the songs makes it hard to read, and BEATLES blends into the background so well you might not even realise it's there. Did they use the circle to design this cover? PAUL?

11) A Covers Band So Good, Sometimes We Even Let Them Sing Their Own Songs!

It might be because of the asymmetrical Beatle heads. It might be because they got beaten to the edge-to-edge cover punch by The Rolling Stones. It might be because it makes me think of the uncanny Mr Incredible meme.

10) POV: You Are Falling To Your Death

I actually like this picture quite a lot but it upsets me... why couldn't they just typeset it so the railings and the writing were going in the same direction...

9) Damn Bro You Got The Whole Squad Laughing

In many ways, she is who With The Beatles wishes she was, but I can't rank it any higher because it's literally just a picture of them. Look, they've had a rough year.

8) Paul is Dead Evidence 2: Electric Boogaloo

The art is nice, but it does just seem like a retread of the Revolver cover. Bit unexciting.

7)

Part of me wishes they'd gone the whole Yeezus route and packaged it in a clear plastic sleeve with THE BEATLES embossed on it, but the blank white is also pretty evocative. There's a whole chapter in Moby Dick about how terrifying the colour white is.

6)  The Beatles, N-U-J-V!

It makes me think of Weezer's Blue Album and that's why it's good.

5) The Beatles Demonstrate The Many Ways To Have A Face

Not many people know this but the middle picture in the George row was actually used as the Tumblr default icon way back in the day.

4) This Strain is Called “Rubber Soul” 😳 You’ll Be Zonked Out Of Your Gourd 💯

'When first I saw your latest LP sleeve My eyes, dear Beatles, I could scarce believe There's nobody, I feel, could like it much Except, perhaps, the vampire-minded Sutch. I tried to Work It Out, but I could not, Why such a very photogenic lot Should want to see yourselves portrayed as freaks;'

- Annabel Lee

3) Honey, They're Crossing The Road Again

Deserves the dub for the sheer achievement of taking a picture of four people in motion where they all look good.

2)

Before you get mad at Klaus for dissing Paul McCartney, remember that he a) made the Revolver cover and b) was really hot. So he can basically do whatever he wants.

1) Paul Is Dead Evidence 3: Faul's Revenge

I still don't know what that creature in the chair is supposed to be.

[saikolikes]

I Played Persona 5 Tactica, Here Is What I Think About It

I have long awaited Tactica since the first announcement trailer (yes, the one that got "accidentally" published by Atlus). After playing through the main story + DLC I needed to sort my thoughts & have decided to subject every other person on the internet to it.

First of all a few disclaimers: Did someone ask me to write this? No Do I care? No Do I need to sort out my thoughts out loud? Yes :D There will be spoilers for the entire game + DLC so read this post knowing that! Lastly, this post is highly critical but it comes from a place of enjoyment of the game and love for the series. If that hadn't been the case, I would've never spent literal days collecting all these words in one place.

So.

Let's start by: have I enjoyed my experience? Yes, most of the time. Would I recommend the game to someone else? Now that is a good question. Let's start from the theory.

What does Tactica want to achieve?

According to this interview by Business Producer Nomura, Director Maeda, and Composer Konishi, P5T had -- extremely summarized -- three main goals:

Maintaining the Persona 5 allure and imagery despite having a different gameplay and visual style

Making a strategy rpg accessible even to non-fans of the genre and non-navigated trpg players

Capturing "the straightforward and highly passionate feelings of the high school students, along with a slightly precarious, fleeting danger inherent in their straightforwardness" (Maeda, quoting from the Persona Central article previously cited)

If we hold what it said into this interview as our sole criteria for judging the game, Persona 5 Tactica aces most of it. I will go into each section deeper as this post goes on, but this game was clearly made with passion by people who have very clear in their minds what Persona 5 means, sounds, and feels like.

There is only one problem: it's not as clear who this game was made for.

Who's Tactica targeted at?

At its core, despite being a game that most likely only the more passionate P5 fans will buy, especially so far from P5's original release and so close to both P3:RE and the (plausible?) announcement of P6, Tactica's main story is so clearly made with the intent of being enjoyed by every possible P5 fan that the hardcore fanbase would probably be the last segment of players I would suggest that should play this game. Right from the start, it supplies you with practical notes about who is who, what key places you need to know, and other recap information from the previous game -- a nice feature, and very helpful... but clearly targeted at people who haven't touched P5 since 2017, or at least haven't been participating in some form of fandom in the past 6 years.

Don't get me wrong, there is nothing bad with wanting to appeal to every possible player -- Strikers, too, was purposefully designed to be enjoyed no matter your starting point for the series, the game, the anime, or the manga (or none of these things, actually). I find some form of contradiction, however, in the fact that not only the DLC, which acts as a prequel to Tactica's main story, technically has light spoilers for Royal, but also... of all the people I know -- irl, on the internet, among gaming creators -- who played P5 the majority of them still has only played P5. They haven't been interested in the slightest in all these spinoffs that have come out in the meantime, not even in Royal. (more about this on Reddit)

My point is: at this point in time, with the infamous cow-milking reputation Atlus has especially regarding P5, the people who have bought and are going to buy the spinoffs no matter what are the hardcore fans. But this game isn't made for them for the most part -- and that is something that can sour the whole experience.

I won't get into the debate about the canonicity of the P5 timeline, but Tactica seems to have a few ideas and well-confused about the whole thing. Because the DLC is Royal compliant, even touches upon "Kasumi"'s bond with her sister, and is technically set parallel to Sae's Palace. Which sort of makes sense since Royal and Tactica share their producer (Wada). But then there is no mention of Royal canon whatsoever in the main story (01.29.24 EDIT: I stand slightly corrected, as Maruki does get hinted at... but I also stand by the fact he's not mentioned in a way that truly matters, and my point about the Third Kingdom I talk about later on is still valid). Sure, much like Strikers, Tactica does not contradict Royal. But between not contradicting and actively enforcing there is a world of difference.

During the game, specific events of P5 are referenced, much more heavily than what happens in Strikers, with Shido and the political scandal being addressed more than once -- to the point where the December calling card is what prompted Toshiro out of his subservient attitude towards his father. Even Yaldabaoth is mentioned and compared to Salmael, the Big Baddie of Tactica, something that in Strikers was left much vaguer ("it's been x months since we fought a god"). And this does not happen for any of the Royal content. Despite the DLC, the Royal-compliant DLC, very clearly linking its story with the main one. Even more, the Third Kingdom and Salmael have an unmissable resemblance with the themes of the Third Semester and what Maruki was planning, parallels so apparent that you would expect someone to at least hint at what happened between January and February at some point.

Instead, there is silence. The themes are loudly there (and I don't know if it's just me, but the Hideout -VT- ost has interesting similarities to Ideal and the Real - End Version -) yet not once, not in the slightest does Maruki ever get mentioned or referenced or hinted at. (01.29.24 EDIT: as I added before, Maruki does get hinted during a conversation that takes place in the Thrid Kingdom... but it's no where near how deeply interwowen Tactica's story is with the ending of vanilla P5. This is what I meant in the following sentence where I say there is a disparity of treatment because there absolutely is.) It's clear to me, given the disparity of treatment, that Tactica's main story doesn't want to contradict Royal in the same way that Strikers didn't, but Persona 5 vanilla is clearly the game you're supposed to have played before starting this one. Which, of course, is also reinforced by Akechi and "Kasumi" being locked behind the DLC. And I think I speak for a lot of people when I say that, if you're a hardcore fan (= most likely to buy Tactica), this probably isn't what you would have wanted from this game.

What Tactica does best

Tactica is a good game for the most part. As I was saying in my introduction, 2 out of the 3 main goals for this game have been not only achieved but aced.

Gameplay-wise, the loop can become quite addicting, especially between the last portion of the First Kingdom and the first half of the Second Kingdom, where imho the story peaks. The development team has done a damn well good job in reducing the structure of a trpg to its core and mixing it with what makes Persona 5... Persona 5. Much like the base game, for example, getting the upper hand through chains of One Mores and All-Out Attacks is basically how you progress through maps. Each Thief has his own Persona + 1 equippable sub-Persona -- even Joker can only use Arsène -- but they made sure to translate each different element into a different mechanic. I adored that, exactly like it happens in the first game, despite the combat being turn-based the characters seem to dance on the battlefield, with each action flowing into the next one as the hype builds up and either Lyn's voice or catchy drums accompany you turn after turn. Don't expect something too complex, as the game is designed to be accessible even to non-strategy players -- and surely I was disappointed by having to play with only 3 characters at a time -- but the fun is there, and to an extent, you can build each character how you most like them through a minimal but very efficient skill tree.

The music is another thing Tactica does very well. By now (Strikers, Royal, and Tactica) it's clear that Konishi favors aggressive guitars over groovy basslines and I didn't mind it one bit, as this became kind of his personal signature. The first portion of the game especially is full of banger hits that get later reprised and remixed as you progress through the Kingdoms. Some of my favorites:

Maxim, like many tracks, has an excellent use of percussions that resemble war drums

Tension, with clear Life Will Change influences

Infiltrate, back at it with the Life Will Change vibes and an exceptional use of strings that resemble horse hooves running on the cobblestones of a medieval city

Master of the Castle, which plays during the Marie bossfight, is an excellent mixture of the Tension theme with the addition of a more aggressive guitar and... bells! Because she's about to get married!

Amusement Park of Trauma, a strong detachment from the general mood of the Second Kingdom that perfectly serves its purpose

Recollection, a melancholic theme that through its notes perfectly sets the mood for what the player is about to go through as soon as they set foot in the Third Kingdom, much like Gentle Madman before it

01.29.24 EDIT: as the beta version of Last Surprise was discovered, I was able to catch a bunch of notes between 0.18 and 0.30 that I am fairly sure are present, rearranged/with guitars only, inside one of Tactica's OSTs too. I just can't seem to find it so I will add the specific one as soon as I spot it lol

Along the new tracks, some very neat rearrangements like Beneath the Mask (which somehow they managed to make it sound even more lo-fi than it already was) and Disquiet make their apperance, as well as a version of Prison Labor.

Also, contrary to what happens in the hellscape of info dumping that is the first hours of Strikers, tutorials are actually paced wonderfully here, and you get to be introduced to each bit of gameplay with little steps, and nothing gets shoved down your throat leaving you with so many information you actually have no idea how to play.

Additionally, the story is quite captivating, especially if you pay attention to what can seem to be minor details. Right from the start, the sheer need to understand what the hell is going on is what drives you forward, and by the end of the First Kingdom and Marie's reveal as Toshiro's fiance, you start to understand that the scope of the entire thing is much more limited and personal -- which is something I appreciated a lot. Toshiro is a good character, his cowardice at the start isn't just a funny trait for the laugh, but a flaw that is deeply connected with his personal history and, much like with Zenkichi and Sophia, the team did a good job in tracing parallels with the other Phantom Thieves in order to quickly build empathy towards him -- with Haru and Futaba being the absolute best matches. The same thing happens with Erina, who shares the rebellious fire of the Phantom Thieves and leads the rebellion against Marie. What I loved about her is her goofiness, I was afraid she would be the nth Strong Female Character -- seeing as Kasumi was very much your Manic Pixie Dream Girl -- instead I found a lady with a sharp tongue and a strong heart, who's deeply loyal but doesn't hesitate to fool around. She's really valid, I admit I wouldn't have bet on her character to be like this but I'm happy they took this direction with her.

So... all is good, right? Why do I say that the game "is good... for the most part"?

Tactica's recycling problem

Fundamentally, and believe me it pains me very much to say this... Tactica doesn't have a lot to say, despite what its developers declared.

The game's themes, characters, morals, and climax are all heavily derivative of themes, characters, morals, and climaxes that have already been more than explored within the various iterations of P5. Past the final portion of the Third Kingdom, the repetitiveness of it all became seriously unbearable. No thing, big or small, gets spared: this is how you find yourself with Toshiro mathematically relating to all the Phantom Thieves, even when it feels forced; how you have the battle against Shadow Toshiro and then Eri that is 1:1 what we saw in Futaba's Palace with the fight against Wakaba; how you have the nth Deity Wished By Mankind that wants to rule over Free Will; how the "Fourth" Kingdom is nothing more than a recycling, reskinning, recoloring of what you already played through the previous Kingdoms -- mobs and bossfights included.

It really does a disservice to the game, the fact that so many of its final portions are stretched out to the point of exhaustion, I imagine only for the sake of justifying the cost of the game with more playtime, something that is deeply wrong, especially if we take into consideration that the game is actually sold at (less) than the current average market price (60€/$, compared to PS4/Switch games being 60-70 and next-gen games being 70-80). It kills the climax that Tactica so painfully had built up to that point, and it made me feel like completing the story was more of a chore I had to do in order to get to the final cutscene (which... is fine, I guess) than something I did with heartfelt conviction.

Moreover, the deeply derivative nature of this game causes more than some issues, character-wise. Because this is a game with the Phantom Thieves... but narratively speaking, they aren't the protagonists: Toshiro and Erina are. This leads to a weird situation where the group, who has by now 2 god killings under their belt, remains stagnant throughout the whole game, as they have nothing to learn or improve about them, and too often they become nothing more than the mask (ah-ah) of themselves, with characters acting just like their archetype -- Yusuke, the starving artist; Morgana, who gets angry when he's called a cat; Ryuji, the dumb guy who's the butt of the joke. Incredibly speaking, the one who feels less like herself is Makoto: in P5 she can be tough and confrontational, sure, but you have to provoke her, first -- she's usually kind and collected, with a sort of mom-friend attitude. Strikers played a bit more into her punk side, and Royal gave us her wonderful Showtimes with Haru and Ryuji... but in Tactica, she's straight-up aggressive and quick to violence, often excessively, often for no reason. I have no idea what happened with her honestly, the day of the wedding in the imaginary vignette she even accuses you, unprompted, of cheating on her. Are the writers Makoto haters?

Anyway. My point is, as much as Toshiro and Erina hit home and do their job as characters, and as much as it's heartwarming to have the whole gang together again... sometimes, especially near the end, it sure feels like everything is just an excuse to have more Phantom Thieves content. Which would not be bad! But it is the moment Royal gets ignored and all the progress and maturity they gained is erased.

Overall, I think Tactica has a great cast and great premises, but the final portion of the story has really been dragged for too long, and the amount of recycling between ideas, assets, plot points, and maps is... not great.

Tactica's mysterious mysteries

There is a whole lot that is never given clarification in this game, and well beyond the realm of plausible fan speculations.

So many things went unexplained or even unaddressed. The Metaverse should by all means be gone at this point -- yet it's still working, and the only comment you get on the matter is "I guess it can't be erased completely" which is fine seeing how it's so tied to the human subconscious but an element so important to the worldbuilding really is treated like Just A Thing That Is Said and never given more consideration. Additionally, it is said that Kingdoms aren't Palaces... but functionally speaking, we explore Toshiro's Palace. There are cognitive versions of his family and acquaintances, there are memories locked inside the maps, there is his Shadow... there is no formal reason for it not to be Toshiro's Palace! Except that they needed to market it like an Entirely Different Thing somehow! On this front, Strikers did a really better job in connecting to the canon worldbuilding of P5.

Another thing that goes entirely unaddressed is how exactly the Phantom Thieves have been summoned inside Toshiro's cognition. The game explains that Shido's calling card was what roused Toshiro from his complacency, and what generated Erina as the spark of his rebellion... but it's never explained how the Thieves got in, especially given that it's explicitly stated that they entered in a different manner than Toshiro, who was kidnapped by Salmael, Persona 4 style. All the weirdness of this new world, Personas not working as usual, the Velvet Room changing form... everything is addressed merely in passing, diverted back to Salmael's doing, or even straight up commented by Lavenza with "I have no explanations for this behavior."

Again, lastly, some things are brought up and never addressed again, like the fact Erina can plant the Flag of Freedom but the Flag itself, as a mechanic, only has relevance in the First Kingdom; or the fact that doors with a projectile on it are used to traverse Kingdoms and are what evoked the Phantom Thieves, but no one will ever explain to you what those are or why the Phantom Thieves don't traverse one back to return to the real world, instead they simply... *fades to white*

But what about the DLC?

The DLC is enjoyable but has, on a smaller scale, the exact same problems the rest of the game has.

Some bits of dialogue and character interactions sent me flying, like the way Joker can tease Akechi in a way he doesn't do with any other character or the fact that whether or not Akechi is a Phantom Thief is treated as a complicated matter, and you can trigger some interesting remarks about the whole situation going on outside of Tactica.

Aside from this, the DLC most than anything else suffers from being set in a pocket of time that needs to be wiped from memory, firstly because these three characters aren't exactly a trio yet and only had one interaction together before this moment yet they act like they're closer than that... and secondly because the whole Guernica situation is a parallel to Kasumi and Sumire's story. So it really hits the wrong way, and it even verges on horror if you have the hindsight, that Akechi, Joker and Violet have to save a girl that lost her sister and is being brainwashed to forget her... while Sumire is still "Kasumi."

I liked the setting and I liked the paint mechanic and I liked how frankly brutal and visceral some scenes are. That is exactly my jam! But I couldn't enjoy them to the fullest because I knew they would have amounted to nothing in the grand scheme of things. The memory wipe solution was in store, of course, I saw that coming, nonetheless I found it deeply unelegant, seeing as they didn't even try to offer an explanation as to why or how the trio had their memory erased.

Also, it makes no sense for Guernica to be active in the real world at that scale if only because there would be no reason for her to never be mentioned anywhere after, and I quote, "pulling a stunt like the ones from the Phantom Thieves."

On a final note, since I mentioned the base game's price... contrary to that, Tactica's DLC isn't worth the 20€/$ you pay it. Not only because it's very short (4-5 hours if you rush, 6-8 if you take some more time to maybe restart some maps or replay some dialogues and gush like I did) but because the experience is overall nothing memorable, and the additional maps aren't enough to cover that. I stand by the fact you shouldn't judge a game's price by its length, but length isn't Repaint Your Heart's sole problem, sadly.

My final thoughts

Overall, I enjoyed playing Tactica (save for the final part) and it gave me some really stellar content, like the fake wedding scenes, Ann's best characterization across the entire series, Erina as a character, and overall a new occasion to spend time with my favorite band of outlaws teens.

I'm glad I had more P5 content... but I still feel I could've gone by with no problems without Tactica. Which is a sad thing to say, but it's true. Because I loved Strikers and I would never want to live without having played that game. Tactica, well... despite me being hyped for it a ton, it made me come to the conclusion that I am done with P5 content, especially if it has to be like this. If I feel nostalgic, I'll just boot my PS5 and replay Royal for the second time. And for everything else, there is fandom.

Thank you for reading this far if you have. You can find me on Twitter, Ao3 and BlueSky!

[tsaritsa]

Congratulations on winning Nano!!! Any hot takes or unconventional tips on how to achieve a huuuge milestone like that in so little time?

Also, if you'd like to share, I'd love to hear more about the piece(s) you worked on during this year's event! Big yay if you want to tease us with a sneak peek as well. 🙂

Congratsss again!!!

ty!!!! i am afraid my tips might seem kind of obvious and not that much of a hot take but here's what worked for me:

writing sprints. do 10 min. do 17 min. do 30 min. whatever it is, just get words down on the page. after each sprint was finished i'd look at what i wrote, fix up the most glaring mistakes (espe if the words looked terrible. i've learned to live with a lot of spelling errors bc otherwise u waste too much time. during nano each day i'd prolly manage between 2-3 sprints -- usually enough to net me between 1000-1500 words each day. i wouldn't stop if i hit the daily total, i'd stop when i could feel the motivation waning. my lowest day was under 300 words, my biggest was just over 4000.

get a community. writing sucks alone. i feel very grateful that i've made some friends on here who were also trying to write regularly, so now there's 5 of us in a little discord i've made. we do sprints with each other and share lots of snippets, memes, pretty pictures etc. it keeps us excited about our own projects, but also allows us to cheerlead each other on.

get used to placeholders. i use TK. anytime there's a word i need but it's not on the tip of my tongue? TK my beloved. sometimes i'd write like she sighed in a TK kind of way, or like harry opens his mouth to argue about TK TK some work thing he's doing TK TK. it just keeps u in the pace of writing ur in, but allows for a few words to be spent writing down a piece that needs further expansion.

establish habits and goals. for me, it's stuff like trying to write the bulk of my writing with a nice candle lit, but also the silly stuff like putting on lippy so I feel like. Ready to do shit. have a few drinks avail. one to hydrate (ice cold) one to caffeinate (also ice cold). play music or sounds that will help u get into the zone without overly distracting. now that i've won it i'm gonna treat myself to some silly purchases as well bc i should reward myself for such hard work and dedication. i'm thinking a v comfy hoodie.

overall if i didn't have the community i had this month i think my external motivation would've been lost quickly, so find friends to yell at about ur project. watch yt videos about ppl doing writing! make posts and don't give a flying fuck about being cringe or not suiting ut 'aesthetic'. this is u. do it for U.

in terms of this project: the short version is hermione goes back to hogwarts post book 7 and has to slowly begin to recover from/learn to live with the PTSD she's gained. alas, draco is also back and she's gotta learn to make peace with the fact that he's allowed to want to change and that he's making small steps to become a better person than who he was. they're gonna kiss and be disgusting with each other. ultimately this is a story about hermione's journey, as the whole thing is written from her perspective, so although the dhr aspect is there, there are also other important relationships i want to focus on -- especially her and harry.

i'm ignoring/expanding on a lot of canon, and using some details from the movies i prefer over the books (namely her mudblood scar bc mmmmm parallels). i don't really know if anybody is in character but i don't care! this is my story and i'll do it how i see fit haha.

the following excerpt comes from late sept in the current draft. at this point dhr has been forced together a few times already. draco has surreptitiously managed to drug slughorn with a potion of his (slughorn's) own making during their potions class bc the potions professor was spending an entire lesson just showing off instead of. u know. teaching.

[digitalgirlguide]

Kimmy’s Digital Diary: I owe it to myself to be the best version of me possible

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

As we step into the new year of 2024, I think to myself ‘what can I do differently in 2024?’ I’m not one to sit on my hands and wait until a new year started to make changes to my life but I would be lying if I didn't say that the sparkle surrounding the prospect of being an entirely new person in january while reflecting on the year in december didn’t excite me. I’ve been taking my vitamins, getting my ass in the gym, solidifying my beauty routines and trying to become an all around ‘it girl’. BUT it's time to wholeheartedly embrace the essence of the 'it girl era' with even more aggression and tenacity than before. Being mediocre has never been in my cards and I want so much out of this life that I have to do more.

The Enchantment of Your Signature Beauty Routine

The first thing I had to get right was my natural look. My go-to ‘If i have 5 minutes to be outside can I I do it?’ signature makeup look. And this is from someone who just started learning about makeup in 2016…where we did full faces and the thickest eyebrows possible. I had to think about what I wanted my staples to be that would always be in my collection. Now I’m a girl who likes a nice dewy look and whenever I wear makeup people don't even know I’m wearing it!

Think of makeup not merely as a beauty enhancer, but as a canvas for self-expression. Whether you resonate with the 'less is more' philosophy, cherishing a dewy no-makeup makeup look, or you're a glamour enthusiast who wouldn't part with her winged eyeliner for anything, your makeup style is an extension of your identity.

My personal go-tos for my 10 minute routine

FOUNDATION:

Sacha Cosmetics Cream to Powder Foundation- Perfect Spice

e.l.f halow glow liquid filter - 6 tan/deep warm

CONCEALER

e.l.f hydrating camo concealer - medium peach

BLUSH

sacha cosmetics powder blush - claret

SETTING POWDER

sacha cosmetics buttercup setting powder

SETTING SPRAY

urban decay all nighter

Yet, the magic doesn't end there. Scents have an enchanting ability to stir emotions and weave memories. Do you find joy in the freshness of citrus, the elegance of roses, or does the warm, comforting aroma of vanilla speak to your soul? Discovering your signature scent is like leaving traces of your personal brand in every room you enter.

And do not forget to LAYER YOUR FRAGRANCES GIRL.

From the shower gel, to the body lotion to the perfume combinations. Make sure your notes match to create a custom signature scent that will have everybody asking you what fragrance you’re wearing. But we all know, pretty girls don’t share those combinations.

And then, there's your unique style. Whether it aligns with classic chic, boho vibes, or the boldness of street style, your fashion choices should resonate with your personality and instill a sense of empowerment within you.

You don’t have to conform to Tiktok niches but you can mix and match those styles until you get one that feels authentic to YOU. Remember, it’s better to have your own aesthetic than trying to keep up with trends that don't match your personality.

Goal-Getting: Your Moment is Now

Let's shift gears and talk about pursuing your aspirations with unyielding determination. It's the perfect time to outline major goals for the first quarter of the year. Dreaming of launching your own business? Let's sketch out the plan. Eyeing that well-deserved promotion? Let's craft the path towards it. This is undeniably your year, your time to radiate brilliance. Always remember, every achievement begins with the courage to take that first step.

Here are a few tips to staying on top of your studies in 2024:

Use the pomodoro method - its much easier to break things down into smaller chunks than sitting down for hours studying

Invest in cute study supplies (trust me it makes a difference)

Set a study schedule and stick to it

Practice ‘recall’

Have a study scent - to help with recall. Memories are triggered by scent!

Mind and Body Wellness: Embrace Strength Training and Pilates

Exercise is more than sculpting the perfect physique; it's about decluttering your mind and discovering the incredible strength within. Introducing workouts like strength training and Pilates into your routine can be truly transformative.

Strength training empowers you, fostering a sense of strength and capability, and guess what? It contributes to maintaining a harmonious metabolism. On the other hand, Pilates transcends physical fitness; it's an intricate dance between mind and body. Improving flexibility, posture, and even mental wellness, Pilates is a holistic embrace of your well-being.

Let's get into it, The Action Steps

Here's your glow-up game plan:

Curate a beauty regimen that is an authentic reflection of YOU. Remember, it's not about following trends; it's about celebrating what makes YOU feel stunning.

Chart out ambitious goals for Q1. Break them down into manageable tasks and start the journey towards realizing them. Your dreams are deserving of your pursuit.

Infuse strength training and Pilates into your fitness routine. Your body and mind will express gratitude for the nurturing care.

Remember, the path to becoming the best version of yourself is a steady journey, not a hurried sprint. Take each step with intention, celebrate every small victory, and, most importantly, embrace your unique beauty and strength. Here's to a luminous and confident 2024 ✨

[comfort-writing]

Crayons and Cassettes

Chapter 6: Party at Harrington’s

You are a kindergarten teacher. Eddie’s daughter, Sage, is in your class. Eddie helps you relax after a couple grueling months.

warnings: smoking and drinking. mental health- anxiety- is depicted. this fic will be 18+ in later chapters- minors DNI!! no use of y/n. (please let me know if I missed anything)

a/n: I feel much better about this chapter. btw I totally wanted to get it out last night but I fell asleep after work oops. let me know in the comments or my asks if you want to be added to the tag list! requests are open!

word count: 2.9k

Chapter 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 (coming soon!)

Once school was back in full swing, you were busy, to put it lightly. Spring semester was always filled with setting up IEP and 504 recommendations for your students to be analyzed for in the first grade, as well as trying to have every student achieve mastery of all of the state standards. You had to make sure all of your students could write their name without mistakes, tie their shoes, know numbers one through fifty and the alphabet, knew a lot of sight words, and most, if not all, should be able to read basic books.

You were working hard to try and make sure that all of your students achieved. But that didn’t come without sacrifice. You and Eddie still called, but the calls were usually less than twenty minutes, as you needed to grade assignments and lesson plan for the days ahead. You still saw him at pickup line, but instead of those days where you were stressed being few and far between, they were growing more frequent.

You could tell he was getting worried about you. He’d even said it on your last phone call.

“Are you doing okay? You seem really stressed lately.” He cautioned, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Oh, I’m fine. The spring semester is always like this. I’m just not used to having such a large class size is all. They said that next year won’t be so bad. Apparently everyone decided to have babies at the same time that you did.” You joked, trying to downplay your anxiety.

“Is there anything I can do to help you out?”

“I’m not sure… just- being able to talk sometimes is nice. Allows me decompress a little. But if I think of anything else, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Okay..” He said warily, still not quite sure about where your head was really at.

You didn’t want to burden him with anything. You’d always had pretty bad anxiety, but you had learned to manage it pretty well on your own over the years. However, when life got stressful, it was more difficult to deal with, especially due to the fact that you didn’t have much time for yourself.

He’d invited you out to a little get together with his friends the other night. You said you weren’t sure, mainly because you felt like you had a pile of work that needed to get done and taking one night off might put you back. But he mentioned that you didn’t have to stay if you didn’t want to. He just wanted you to meet his friends- it was a casual hang out, nothing serious. You hesitantly agreed, thinking that maybe this might help you chill out a little bit.

It was tonight. Eddie said he’d drive you, which you appreciated, as despite you living in Hawkins since the summer, you still didn’t know your way around town outside of the main roads. You were standing in your closet, trying to decide what to wear.

Casual. Cute. Nothing too sexy or serious. Just- regular clothes. You should have something like that, right? You dug through your closet. It didn’t help that the majority of your wardrobe consisted of colorful dresses you wore to your kindergarten class. Honestly, dressing for five year olds was easier than dressing for adults, in your opinion. You decided on a pair of jeans and a light, comfortable sweater. It was nearing March, so it wasn’t snowing anymore, but it was still cold out. You put on your everyday makeup that you wore to school and tied back your hair, pulling out a few strands to frame your face. Earrings, bracelets, watch. Easy. Cute, comfortable, casual. You grabbed a pair of white sneakers and threw them on. Just as you were finishing tying your left shoelace, you heard a knock at the front door.

You answered the door, “Hey, Eds, come on in. I just have to grab my purse.” You said, letting him into the entryway.

“You look nice.” He smiled genuinely.

You were in a bit of a rush, the anxiety still having a hold on you, “Ah- thanks.” You said quickly, rushing to the living room to grab your bag. You walked back to Eddie, eyes looking a little worried, “Ready to go?” You asked, almost walking past him to head out the door.

He stopped you, placing both hands on your shoulders, “Hey.. Take a breath. Relax.” He said, taking a deep breath, eyeing you to follow suit. You did, relaxing your shoulders a bit. “This is supposed to be fun. You deserve a break. You’ve been wearing yourself out. One night off isn’t going to cause your kids to fail.” He reassured you.

You took another deep breath, “I know… I know. It’s just been a bit much is all. I want my students to succeed.”

“And they will.” He insisted. “But they can’t do that without your help. And how can you really help them if you’re so stressed all the time? You have to take care of yourself in order to take care of them.”

You sighed, “Yeah.. you’re right.” His words were reassuring enough for now.

“Okay. Let’s go have fun, yeah? And remember, if it’s too much, we can just leave. There’s no pressure for you to stay. I’ll drive you home and you can work or relax.” He said, squeezing your shoulders gently before letting go. You nodded, and he opened the front door for you, locking it behind you guys before walking you to his van.

Before you had the chance to open your own door, Eddie jogged over and opened it for you, taking a grandiose bow. You laughed, for what felt like the first time in at least a week. Ever the gentleman. He walked over to the drivers side after shutting your door, and the two of you pulled off to drive to Steve’s.

The moment you arrived at the cute little corner lot house, Eddie jumped out and opened the car door for you, taking your hand and helping you out of the car. He gave it a quick squeeze before letting it go.

You guys walked up to the door, and Eddie just waltzed right on through the door. You felt bad just walking into a strangers house, so you stood in the doorway for a moment. “Sup Harrington, you big lug.” Eddie laughed, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulder and bending him to ruffle his hair. Steve laughed and shoved him off, then noticed you in the doorway.

“Hey, come on in, don’t be shy.” He smiled warmly.

You stepped further into the entry way and shut the door behind you. Steve walked over to you and stuck his hand out, shaking yours politely, “Steve. Nice to meet you.” You told him your name and once you’d been introduced, Steve and Eddie walked you to the living room to meet the rest of the group. Everyone seemed warm and welcoming enough.

The younger bunch were back for spring break, so everyone had a lot to catch up on. You mainly listened to the conversation, just taking everything in. You sat at the end of the sofa, with Robin next to you and Eddie squatted on the arm rest. You’d been chatting with her, finding out the two of you had a lot in common.

“You want a drink?” Robin offered, getting up to go grab one for herself.

“Uh, sure. What do you have?” You asked.

She reached her hand out, you took it, and she helped you off of the couch, “We’ve got a lot, and I’m not even sure what all there is.” She chuckled as you followed her to the kitchen. She swung open the fridge like she lived there and reached in the back, grabbing a beer before leaning on the freezer and allowing you to scan the contents. You grabbed some premade cocktail in a can before shutting the door.

“So.. you and Eddie, huh?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you.

You couldn’t fight the red tint that flooded your cheeks, “Ah- well.. not really?” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

Robin frowned and cracked open her beer, taking a swig, “What’s the holdup? He’s like, toootally into you. And if I could bet on it, I’d put down money and say that you’re into him.”

You sighed, “That’s already been established.”

She gave you a confused look, “So.. why aren’t you two a thing?”

“My job. Unfortunately, it’s like, illegal for me to date a parent. Plus, in this town, it’s not like we can be secretive about it- gossip runs rampant.”

“Ah- yeah, I guess that makes sense. Don’t worry., my lips are sealed”

“Thanks. But it still kinda sucks though.” You chuckled, bumping her shoulder

“I feel that. When I was in college, my girlfriend and I had to be like, mega-cautious around everyone. I know it’s not the same, but I know what it’s like to have to hide how ya feel.” She reassured.

“Thanks Robin.” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink.

She nodded and the two of you walked back to the couch, finding Eddie laid out where the two of you previously sat. Robin groaned and shoved him, trying to get him to move off of the couch. He rolled off, hitting the ground with a thud, and you and Robin quickly scrambled over him and into your seats, giggling. Eddie laughed and pointed an accusatory finger, “I knew I shouldn’t have introduced the two of you.”

You and Robin shared a knowing look and laughed, watching as he got up off of the ground and moved to sit on the armrest once again, leaning against the back of the couch and resting his arm on the cushion above your shoulder.

After a while of sitting and listening to his buddies laugh and tell old stories, with you chiming in at certain points, Eddie leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I’m gonna go out back for a smoke. Want to come with?” He asked.

You nodded and followed him through the house and onto the back patio. You sighed into the cold March air, seeing your own breath. He took a cigarette and a lighter out of his jacket pocket. He offered you one, to which you politely declined, before lighting it and taking a drag.

“You having a good time?” He asked, leaning over the patio’s railing and looking into the backyard.

You matched his position, “Yeah. Your friends are really nice.” You smiled.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. You deserve to.” He told you, leaning over and bumping your shoulder with his own.

You hummed and looked up, seeing the starry sky. It made you feel small, but not in a bad way.

“Just think, only two more months and you’re home free.” He mused.

You giggled, “You mean we’re home free.”

He smiled, “Well yeah, but I was mainly talking about you. You’ve been so stressed lately with all the hard work you’ve been doing.” He paused, looking over to you, “I’ve been worried about you. I mean, I haven’t known you that long, but I can tell that all of it has had an effect on you.”

You sighed, turning around to face the house. You placed your hands on your face and dragged them down, “I know.” You grumbled, your voice muffled by your hands. You let them fall and rested your elbows on the railing, leaning back. “I just feel like I haven’t had a moment to breathe since January. Spring semester is normally stressful, but it’s usually not this bad.”

Eddie nodded, taking another drag of his cigarette, letting you continue.

“I just- anxiety is a bitch, you know?”

Eddie laughed at that, coughing through it as the smoke spilled from his lungs. “Boy do I know it.” He said, once he’d gained his bearings. “But like I said, only two more months. You’re almost there. And really, I know I’ve already said this, but if you need any help with anything, you let me know, okay?”

You nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder, “Thank you, Eddie.” You whispered. He smiled and kissed the top of your head before laying his own on top of yours. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying each others silent company as Eddie finished his cigarette, making sure to blow the smoke away from you.

He snubbed out the end of his smoke in the little ashtray on the railing before looking down at you, “Ready to go back in?” He asked quietly.

“Do we have to? This is so nice.” You pleaded.

“You’re shivering. You’re going to freeze to death.”

“Ugh, fine. If we have to.” You groaned dramatically.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your arms quickly to warm you up, “Come on, cutie.” He said, walking you back inside.

You laughed as you two walked back into the house, feeling yourself begin to defrost as you walked back to the living room together. You plopped back down next to Robin and she gave you a silent wink, to which you rolled your eyes and smiled.

Around ten, everyone was heading out, so you and Eddie followed suit. You said goodbye to everyone, you and Robin exchanging numbers, and Steve giving you a big bear hug. Eddie walked you out to his van, opening the door for you before climbing in himself. The two of you drove home, laughing and recalling funny things that people had said that night, listening to the radio on a low volume.

Once he pulled up to your house, he walked you to your door. “Hey, thank you for tonight. I had fun.” You smiled, leaning against your door frame.

“Me too. I’m glad you came along.” He had one hand in his jacket pocket as he used his thumb to fiddle with the rings on his other hand.

You looked up at him. He looked so handsome in the moonlight. You looked around for a moment, taking in that nobody was on the street and the neighbors’ lights were off.

“Are they planning anything like this again soon?” You asked.

“Not that I know of, but I’ll let you know when we do.”

You nodded, taking a step closer to him. “Really.. thank you.” You said sincerely as you wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He was a little surprised, but he hugged you back, wrapping one arm around your waist and using the other to rub your back.

To an outsider, the hug may have look like it lasted too long, but neither of you cared. You just enjoyed each others warmth and physical contact in that moment. You could have been there forever and neither of you would have noticed.

You pulled away slightly, looking up at him. He smiled softly down at you. You glanced around one last time before looking back up at him. You could have cut the tension with a knife.

After a moment, Eddie bent down and whispered in your ear, “You’re making it very hard not to kiss you right now.”

You squeezed him closer, taking a steady breath before whispering back, “I never said you couldn’t.”

He pulled back and looked around like you had already done, making sure nobody was around. Your porch light was off, so nobody could really see you guys anyways. He looked back at you for confirmation that this was okay. You nodded.

He didn’t waste another moment before leaning down and capturing your lips in his own, moving one hand to hold your cheek as he did so. His lips were warm and soft and he tasted faintly of cigarettes, but you didn’t mind. You felt like you were surrounded by him: his lips, his hair, his tall and lean figure. He smelled like smoke and some sort of warm and spicy cologne.

He kissed you gently, not looking for anything more than this. You melted into it, your arms wrapping around his shoulders lazily. Neither of you knew how long it lasted, it could have been a second or it could have been an eternity. But when he pulled back, the both of you feeling a little breathless, it felt too soon.

The two of you shared a look before smiling at each other. He leaned down and kissed your temple sweetly before he pulled away, your arms falling to your sides and feeling empty. “I’ll see you tomorrow at pickup?” He whispered.

You nodded dumbly, and watched him step off of your front porch. “Good night, beautiful.” He said with a wink, heading back to his car. You wanted to say good night as well, but you felt as though your voice would betray you in that moment, so you silently unlocked your door and walked inside your house, locking it behind you.

You leaned against your front door, taking a moment to let it all sink in.

Man, you felt like a teenager again.

Tag list: @mcueveryday @bebe0701 @emma77645 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @nina211544

[walnutcookie]

you should infodump about misfortune like. now /nf

SIR YES SIR . SALUTES.

im not sure how to tag all of this, doing my best but some of it Might be a little disturbing (with cartoony visuals). if you need it tagged with something specific please ask !!

(reblogs ok !)

misfortune is this silly raven thing . it is the Embodiment of misfortune and misery and feeds off of it, which means it is often causing harm to others for its own benefit

Its like . Ten feet tall or something HVXKDBD it can shrink and grow as it pleases actually (so long as it has enough power). Since it wants to feed off of and make someone miserable, it tries to choose its victims to be the most vulnerable people it can find. people who are isolated and dont have much support mostly, but also people who already have a lot of trauma and people dont know how to manage their emotions very well

Cappuccino was a perfect canidate !

i should give some more info about misfortune before i get into that though ,,, using its host/victims body, its able to cause things to happen (stack of papers getting scattered, bookcases falling over, lighting striking dangerously close, people around them getting hurt/even dying, generally unfortunate events). it tries to make things basically just The worst it possibly can be for the person it inhabits so it can achieve Maximum Misery (which is a tasty snack for it ! ). it can also do fun and silly things like cause its victims to grow bird parts - wings, talons, feathers, a beak, combinations of these things, etc - in a very Painful and grotesque way !! which also causes them to feel miserable! though it doesnt want to kill the host so it always makes these things temporary. additionally it can possess people and control their every move, causing feathers to grow from their skin the longer theyre posessed Which they will have to pluck later. also painful.

^ cappuccino growing wings

also Misfortune does not want its victims to die. if its victims die then that means their suffering is over - it would have to find a new host. So it makes the person suffer as most as possible while also protecting them and keeping them alive

that also includes keeping them from trying to kill themselves

using its previous host/victims body (my oc golden leaf cookie at the moment but that may change), it killed cappuccinos parents. For what reason im uh. not sure yet i still need to figure that out HDBFKH but it was Incredibly gruesome and uh. unfortunately little cappuccino was there to watch !

cappuccino's parents were Not nice people. they were incredibly abusive and neglective. cappuccino is like ,, age 5-10 at this time (another thing to figure out) and while her older sister latte was there she Got scared and ran away leaving cappuccino to fend for himself (latte is still fillwd with so much guilt over that bUT THATS A ramble for another time)

cappuccino is an Already traumatized young kid who just watched her parents die and is now all alone and an orphan . and is now going to watch as this giant bird thing claws through its host, causing them to scream out in pain and bleed out to death on the floor as the bird talks to little cappu !!! in spanish because for some reason me and my gf decided it speaks spanish but hey it works out cause so does cappu!

misfortune then crawls inside cappuccinos mouth. which again. is very painful. And very disturbing especially as a child

cappuccino lives with this thing for like twenty years, vaguely aware of its existence yet still filled with doubt. He knows she has bad luck either way and tends to isolate herself as to not harm others !!! all of the friends he made in school had bad things happen to them so hes become paranoid about getting too close to people. hes basically just accepted that shes not capable of doing good ,,, anything he tries to do just ends up going bad anyways. Which is why hes become a prosecutor !!!! you see Misfortune naturally gives her an advantage since giving innocent people (or anyone for that matter) lengthy sentences and other punishments causes a lot of misery and feeds Misfortune quite nicely ! it doesnt exactly Garuntee cappus win like. she still has to work for it. but he does get an upper hand (unknowingly) as misfortune encourages it. the reason she smokes a lot is because it helps him not feel so anxious and paranoid constantly that bad things will happen to everyone she cares about

theres a lot of habits hes picked up after dealing with this thing for so long. no cars/buses since hes been in FAR too many car crashes. keep pencils/writing tools dull as he tends to accidentally stab herself a lot. dont bother keeping places clean and tidy since theyll become dirty somehow anyways

cappuccino has a vague memory of misfortune. though since it was so long ago and also During a very traumatizing moment his mind has kind of distorted it to be some incomprehensible monster that appears in her nightmares. is it real? is he just imagining all of this? when wings grow from his back, is she hallucinating it? is something causing all of this bad luck, or is he just imagining everything? he cant tell if its real or not . she KNOWS something is wrong because it seems like life itself is determined to keep her from being happy. the thing is misfortune constantly lives inside of her ,, hes never seen misfortune aside from that very fuzzy (and distorted) memory from when he was a child. finally he Cant Take it anymore and just talks out loud to himself, trying to talk to whatever it is keeping him from being happy - again, not knowing if anything is actually there.

But there is !

And she is horrified as it starts to crawl out of his mouth!

theres a sense of relief and reassurance as At least now he knows its not all just his imagination but also. holy fucking shit. its not her imagination.

its all real. the memory from when she was a kid. hes being haunted by this Fucking Thing (which she realizes is a bird and not an incomprehensible monster) and its effectively ruining her life. it speaks to her - he figures out that it feeds off of his misery and that its been doing that for the past 20 years. And she just has to live with that

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I could go on ,,, theres more to it actually but this post is getting Very long and i want people to Actually read it HXBDKHD

(UPDATE PART 2 HERE)

if you have any questions/comments PLEASE let me know i love talking about this thang !!!