#obligatory space theme time!

[charliemwrites]

Hiiiii! So I’m not super thrilled with this but I’ve been having a time of it at work so I worked on this when I could 🙃

Not sure if there will be a second part yet tbh we’ll see!

Edit: almost forgot to add that the gorgeous divider below is by @gildui they have some absolutely beautiful cod themed dividers.

Carrion

Reader comes back Wrong

Content: implied/referenced torture, injury, suicide reference/implicated “pact” (by background character), lack of wound care

The breakup was bad.

Not in the top 3 of Simon’s worst nightmare-inducing memories - but likely top 5. He certainly wakes up chest aching and eyes burning often enough for it to be a solid contender. He’s haunted by tears that dripped like acid and the cracks in your voice deafening him.

On bad days, he thinks he can still see you shuffling down the halls, eyes sunken and red-rimmed, dark circles and chapped lips. Anger giving way to resignation giving way to pain and sadness. The rest of the team tight-lipped and wincing, no sides taken, shoulders and ears offered equally in commiseration.

Your misery wanted no company, though.

You didn’t tell Simon that you were leaving. Gaz let slip over a subdued but obligatory game of cards, you’d be gone for a long time - loaned out to Laswell.

Simon didn’t go to see you off. Didn’t ask why you were leaving or accuse you of being too immature to be on a team with him. He didn’t wish you good luck, stay safe with the rest of the team on the tarmac at 0-dark when you took off.

He should have.

Price says you’ll be gone for six months. Just six. It’s better this way, he reminds them when Johnny balks. His eyes are on Simon, though, when he adds that you need to get your head on straight, and you weren’t able to do it with them.

So. Six months.

Simon stops expecting you on his left. Stops smelling your shampoo lingering on bits of clothes he pretended not to notice you steal. He still dreams about you begging him not to push you away.

183 days come and go.

On day 184, Laswell sends word - your temporary team likes you quite a bit. They want you to stay on for one more month… one more mission… one more…

Six months turns to ten.

312 days since you left; since you were home.

The team hasn’t stopped leaving a space for you at their tables, right between Gaz and Price. You miss your own birthday. Laswell says she’ll pass along well wishes.

The situation changes. A target resurfaces. All hands on deck, including yours.

374 days. Twelve months and some change.

They don’t spend the holidays with you, but there’s a stack of presents waiting in Price’s office. Your mugs have collected dust in the back of the rec room cabinet.

Laswell says you’re still deployed on one last mission, return TBD. Soon, though.

487 days. Still TBD. Soon. Really. Just some loose ends to tie up.

561 days. There was some trouble during exfil but you’re alright. Just a bit of recovery.

You’re coming home.

590 days. You’ll land at 0700 tomorrow.

It’s been 591 days since Simon last saw you. Since any of them last saw you.

Laswell has come to deliver you personally, a kind of apology for keeping you away so long. She’s the first off the transport and you’re right behind her.

Your hair is shorter. Much, much shorter. There’s a new patch on your jacket - memento from your temporary team, Simon figures.

Apart from that, you look… almost exactly how you did when you left. Dark circles under your eyes, mouth drawn and tight. There’s invisible weight compressing your shoulders, urging them in and down. But you’re there again. Just the way he remembers.

(Why are you the way he remembers?)

“Long time, no see,” Gaz calls, reaching for you.

There’s half a beat, you blink. Hesitate.

Then you grin and reach back.

“Missed my pretty face, did you?” you reply.

Johnny laughs and brings you in for a hug. You twitch hug him back, patting his shoulder as you pull away.

“Good to have you back, Sergeant,” Price says, shaking your hand.

You turn to Simon, nod in greeting, expression pleasant. “Ghost.”

So that’s how it’ll be? Alright.

“Sergeant.”

That night, you go out for drinks with the team and Laswell. Simon goes along to show there are no hard feelings.

(Not that you seem to need reassurance. It’s not even that you’re not looking at him. You are. Whenever he speaks, the rare times he does, or if he shifts in his seat. Your gaze doesn’t linger or jerk away, you treat him like you do Johnny and Gaz and Price.)

When Johnny mixes up your usual for Price’s, you don’t even seem to notice. But Simon does.

“When did you start drinking whiskey?” he wonders.

You used to swear you’d never like it, claiming it tasted like boot polish and the “Boys Club” wasn’t worth the indigestion it gave you.

“Someone from my other team,” you say by way of explanation.

You don’t ask for another whiskey. Laswell gets the rest of your drinks for that night.

Simon turns into the rec room two days later and finds you already there. There’s only the light above the sink on, and you’re staring at the steady drip, drip, drip from the faucet. A cup of black coffee cools in your hand. You’re already wearing gloves.

“Sugar’s in the left now,” he calls.

Your head twitches, something pops in your neck.

“Oh, thanks,” you chirp, turning for the cabinet. “Sleep okay, LT?”

“‘Bout as well as I ever do,” he replies gruffly, sidling up next to you for the kettle.

You hum. There’s a yellow packet in your hand. (Didn’t you used to like the blue one?)

“I get that,” you sympathize.

He snorts. Since when?

“Do you?”

When he glances down, you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re trying (and failing) to get the sink to stop dripping.

“You know that’s been broken for ages,” he says.

At least as long as the 141 has been around. You tried to fix it once when you first joined up, too, with no luck.

“Right,” you say. A little too quickly, a little too agreeably. “Well, anyway, enjoy your tea, Lieutenant.”

You leave the packet of sugar behind. Unopened.

You’re back and it’s like it used to be - not just before you left, but before the breakup. Before there was ever anything to break up.

Your time away seems to have given you whatever space from Simon you were hoping for, because you act like there was never anything at all.

He’s half expecting, dreading, that you’ll pull him aside at some point. Ask for a word after dinner, or swing by his room before bed. Talk about the break up now that cooler heads prevail and 19 months have sanded down the rough feelings. Seek closure, maybe.

But you don’t. The weeks pass until a month has gone and you never exchange more than easy pleasantries with Simon. You give him space, give him privacy. Things you never used to give him much of before, for better or worse.

You fool around with Gaz and Johnny, trade quips with Price, and follow Simon’s orders. Train recruits. Write reports.

You’re back, better than ever.

So why does it feel like Simon’s still waiting for you to return?

You’re always dressed now, head to toe. Day or night, rain or shine. From the neck down you’re in full sleeves, long pants, boots and gloves.

It doesn’t occur to anyone until you’re sweating through your compression shirt in the gym. Wipe your shiny forehead for the dozenth time before Johnny says, “why not just take it off?”

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh, waving him off.

When you lie down to bench press, Simon notes the bottom of your shirt tucked tight into your waistband. He exchanges a glance with Johnny - he’s seen it too.

You used to dress in shorts and sports bras during exercise, a towel over your shoulder. In the common room, you’d mill in tank-tops and boxers. Even used to trot down the hall swaddled in a towel or robe, mumbling that you forgot a razor or some other toiletry before showering.

“What, did ye get an embarrassing tattoo or somethin’?” Johnny asks finally.

You blink at him, expression bemused. “A tattoo? Why do you think I have a tattoo?”

“Yer covered up like a nun on Sunday. It cannae be comfortable.”

You snort. “Just because you’re allergic to clothes, MacTavish…”

“Allergic?! Wha’s tha’ s’posed t’mean?!”

Gaz barks a laugh. You grin and continue your workout.

Simon tries not to be disturbed by the name “MacTavish” coming off your tongue for the first time since you met.

It’s your first mission since you’ve been back. You have new gear, a new handgun. Something’s been carved into the side of the barrel in Cyrillic, Simon can’t read it. A new callsign.

(“What kind of a name is Carry-on?” Johnny teases, but he doesn’t quite hide the unease in his eyes.

You snort and lace your boots tighter. The edge of you sleeve inches up, revealing the curve of a glossy scar that wasn’t there before.

“You’re one to talk Mister Maybelline.”)

Someone painted an upside down cross on the temple of your helmet with their finger. You thumb it before stuffing it over your head.

“You ready for this?” Gaz asks, knocking his knee into yours. The two of you have been paired together for this mission. (Was it Simon’s imagination, or did you look annoyed that you would have a partner?)

“Always,” you reply.

Simon doesn’t hear what happens, but Gaz looks shellshocked when you haul him into the helicopter during exfil. You shake him a bit once everything is secure and the bird’s in the air.

“Garrick,” you shout, “c’mon, where did he get you?”

It takes him a second but he blinks, offers his arm for your inspection. You move with a speed even Simon is impressed by, tearing into the nearby med kit almost viciously. Gaz is patched up in record time and you sit back with blood on your hands, barely even seem to notice as you wipe them carelessly on your pants.

(You used to be more squeamish, weren’t you? You used to be the last one they asked for medical care because seeing your teammates in pain made you nauseous.)

“What about you?” Gaz asks after a small eternity.

You yawn. “What about me?”

“You got nicked too, didn’t you?”

Simon takes a second look at you and now that Gaz mentions it, you’re soaked in blood. Wet patches on your vest, your pants, dripping down your boots. It takes him a moment to notice the tear in your thigh, shredded flesh visible when you rock with the wind turbulence.

“Did I?” you wonder, glancing down like you only just noticed it.

Johnny curses, reaches for you - but you wave him off.

“It’s just a scratch,” you reply. “Barely even feel it, no worries.”

Then why is it still bleeding?

When the team lands, you hop off the heli without so much as a wince. Droplets of blood lead all the way back to your room.

(When Simon asks Nikolai about the hand-etching on your gun, he says the word means “promise.”)

In the after-action report, your callsign isn’t “Carry-On.” It’s Carrion.

Laswell takes you off the mission two months later, a joint assignment with KorTac. They send three operators to work with TF141 - Stiletto, Konig, and Nikto.

On the transport to infil, Simon notices the Russian inspecting his handgun in a seat separated from the rest of the squad. He recognizes the Cyrillic carved into the barrel this time: Promise.

It’s an eerie, creeping suspicion. An anxious fog rolling in.

It’s not one single thing that trips an alarm in Simon’s head, but a steady collation of oddities over months. A single arhythmic beat, a note off key. Just once or twice, but over and over until he can’t notice anything else.

You act just like yourself except for all the minute ways you don’t.

You smile big and wide, sunshine bright, when they make a good joke. Your laugh is still the same, bubbling up in your throat, head thrown back. You smell the same when you pass Simon in the hall, shampoo and soap that’s haunted him for a year and a half.

It’s insidiously subtle; he can’t pinpoint what it is for the longest time. Your mannerisms are almost too practiced, the cadence of your voice too measured. A missing turn of phrase you often used, replaced by something unfamiliar.

Simon dismisses it as guilt-laden paranoia. The two of you ended on bad terms with a year and half worth of space between. He’s hardly one to gauge what’s normal for you anymore.

And besides, the few times someone else has noticed at those tiny yet all-too-obvious inconsistencies, you shrug it off as something you picked up while away.

But he catches Johnny’s brows furrow one afternoon as you light up a cig (after swearing for years that you’d never pick up the habit) and Simon knows he’s beginning to see it too.

“You ever notice,” Gaz begins slowly. You’re the only one missing from the rec room this evening, retired with a drawn-out yawn. “That Carrion always mentions being away, but never talks about it?”

Simon stills. Johnny’s eyes fly to Price, who’s grimly tapping at his crossword puzzle.

“The file’s redacted,” he says. He’s seen it too then, tried to investigate for himself.

“That’s normal for a mission like that,” Simon reasons carefully.

“I don’t mean the mission,” Price says. “I mean Carrion’s file.”

“This is a good movie,” you mumble from the armchair you’ve stolen from Price. “What’s it called?”

Simon exchanges glances with the rest of the team. No one points out that this is (used to be?) your favorite.

Price looks into the team you were loaned out to. All were KIA or remain MIA. All but one. His file has been scrubbed too, the only documents readable are discharge orders and a PMC contract, both associated with the callsign “Nikto.”

They’re running out of time.

Less than 36 hours on the clock with only one lead, and it’s a zealot with a suicide pact. Price and Laswell both took a crack at him with nothing to show for it. Even Ghost has gotten hardly anything and he’s running out of nails. With time, he might get something useful, but they don’t have much of that left.

In the anteroom looking into interrogation, you’ve been observing through the one-way glass with your hands in your pockets, head tilted, expression serene.

Price and Laswell are discussing strategy, contingencies. Gaz and Johnny are throwing in their two cents, but Simon… Simon is watching you.

Like medical, torture used to be your Achilles. You were trained like the rest of the team, but there was never any need for you to step into the room yourself. Hell, you were a last resort even for observation or emergency resuscitation. No one blamed you for having a weak stomach for information extraction.

But today, you glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Laswell.

“I’ll handle it,” you say with an air of finality.

The room goes silent. Price opens his mouth, but it’s Laswell that speaks, voice hard with resignation.

“Do it.”

You don’t blink. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walk out the door without a backwards glance, shoulders loose but each step steady and purposeful.

“What the hell is going on, Kate?” Price demands.

Kate sighs, looks away as you enter the interrogation room.

“Let’s do this outside. It won’t take long to get that intel.”

The only thing she’s able to share is that you and your team were captured. For a long time. And then you’re already stepping out of the interrogation room, wiping your bloodied hands off on an old rag.

There’s an unusual glint in your eye, an unnatural stillness in your expression.

“Got what we need,” you announce cheerfully.

[tacoguacamole]

ANOTHER TIME | JJK - 3

Summary: All you wanted was time. Time to love your husband. Time to feel him love you back. To see his smile again, not shadowed by grief and resentment. Time to share laughter instead of silence, warmth instead of distance. To feel his arms around you, not the cold of where he used to be. Time to hear “I love you too” before it’s too late. Time should’ve been simple.

But somehow, it always slips through your fingers just when you need it most.

[Pairing: Creative Director!Jungkook x Ceo!Female Reader]

[Theme: Marriage AU. BF2L2S]

[Warnings: Major Angst, Multiple Flashbacks and Time Jumps, Mature Theme, Smut, Mature/Explicit Language, A lot of fluff, Romance, Slowburn]

[Older JK, Older OC, Older Bangtan, Lawyer Seokjin and Namjoon, Doctor Yoongi, Event Planner Hobi, Solo idol Jimin, Secretary Taehyung, Brief cameos of Seventeen Mingyu, GOT7 Mark, Kook's a jerk and mean for the earlier chapters]

[Status: Ongoing]

[Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Chapter Word Count: 7k+]

[Chapter Summary: Some things return in quiet ways — a coffee, a crooked smile, the way his arms still know where to hold you. It isn’t the past, not really, but it lingers at the edges. And as you sit across from him again, you start to wonder if memory alone is enough to make something feel like it’s still here.]

[MINORS DNI! 18+]

The morning air feels different today — crisper somehow, even though the sky outside the kitchen window glows the same pale blue as every other morning.

You don’t flinch when the doorbell rings. You knew he’d come.

When you open the door, Jeongguk is standing there, awkward in his usual work button up and slacks, a small bouquet of purple tulips in his hands. He looks like he wants to say a thousand things but can’t settle on a single one. His eyes flicker down to the purple tulips, then up to you.

For a second, neither of you moves. Then, with a quiet sigh, he leans forward and presses a brief kiss to your forehead, his arms coming around you in a hesitant, practiced hug — one that used to mean comfort, but now it’s just obligatory. His grip is gentle, almost too careful, like he’s afraid of breaking something that’s already cracked.

Still, you hold on to him a little longer, hanging on to the bit of happiness your heart feels.

Stepping aside, you let him in. The scent of eggs and toast floats lightly from the kitchen, where your mother busies herself with the stove. Her clattering is pointedly loud, each clang sharper than necessary. She doesn’t greet him. Doesn’t even glance his way. Stays silent. Keeps her promise. Lets you have this.

Sitting across from him at the dining table, a plate of toast is left untouched between you. There's a heavy silence, like you're both waiting for someone to call cut on a campaign shoot you’re both working on. He twirls the tulips nervously in his fingers before you gently reach over and take them from him, burying your nose into the petals.

"You remembered," you say softly, a little laugh escaping.

“I’d get sued if I forgot,” he murmurs, lips curling into a faint ghost of a smile—one you haven’t seen in a long time.

Neither of you speak. It's just the clinking of silverware filling the awkward space between you. There’s no pressure to talk, not yet. The list said conversations are optional, and maybe that’s mercy for both of you this morning.

So you just observe him. He doesn’t look at you at first. Just keeps his eyes on the table or the clock or the edge of his coffee mug. But his hand twitches a little, like he's trying to grasp for something. Finally, he asks,

“Am I…” He pauses, clears his throat. “Am I allowed to ask why you’re doing this?”

You knew this question would come at some point. The revised and signed agreements that Seokjin brings to you by morning after you had them delivered to Jeongguk's lawyer, made you figure out just as much. Your own lawyer was shocked with how fast things were progressing.

Setting the fork down carefully, wiping your fingers with a napkin, you reply, “No. No questions throughout the days. You signed, had the chance to counter, but you didn’t.”

Jeongguk swallows hard but says nothing else. Simply goes back to the breakfast he has a hard time digesting.

You breathe in deeply, searching for something easier to talk about. “Wanna tell me about work? What’s been going on lately?”

That pulls a reluctant smile from him. “Mingyu’s the new face of Calvin Klein. I’ve been working on the campaign with him.”

You grin, genuine this time. “Look at you. Still the golden boy.”

He chuckles under his breath, tapping his fingers against his mug. “Just trying to do my job. You know how it is.”

You nod, sipping your coffee. “Work’s just about to get crazy for me, too. Seora’s landed a spot at Paris Fashion Week again.”

His eyes widen, a spark of pride flickering there. “Seriously? That’s…that’s huge.” The excitement he shares almost feel real. “Two years in row. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Mark’s been working really hard to keep getting us the spot. He’ll head to Paris soon with the team to prep.”

His gaze softens a little at the mention of your business partner. “You’re not going this time?”

You shake your head, casually swirling the coffee in your cup. “Someone’s got to hold down the fort here.” The lie comes out smoothly.

“But… Paris is your favorite,” Jeongguk says, quieter this time. “You used to call me at three a.m. just to show me the Eiffel Tower lights.”

Your heart skips a beat, hearing how he remembers the better times of your lives, the soft smile across your lips you don’t hide. “Things change, Gguk. Priorities, you know?”

He watches you longer than necessary, like he’s trying to see through your carefully placed calm. “And Mark’s okay with you staying back?”

There’s a shift in his expression you don’t quite pin point. Jealousy? Sadness?

You laugh, ignoring the possibilities, shaking your head. “Mark’s job is to travel and secure global opportunities for us. It’s what we pay him to do. He’s always been my business partner. You know that.”

Leaning back in your chair, cheek resting on your knuckles, you study him. There’s a hint of relief on him that you catch.

“Were you hoping I was secretly dating him?” The faintest shade of red on his ears makes you chuckle. “Or…wait, Jeon Jeongguk, are you jealous?” That thought would’ve been a miracle. But for now, it’s just a good joke to share over breakfast.

He chuckles, shaking his head, voice barely above a mumble. “No. Just… curious.”

It breaks some of the remaining tension between you. The rest of the breakfast is filled with easier conversations. Updates about mutual friends, industry rumors, the chaos of wrangling Seventeen’s troublemaker into a shoot.

“Thought photographers were supposed to be calm under pressure,” you tease, tapping your spoon lightly against your cup.

He leans back in his chair, arms crossed, mouth twitching into a reluctant smile. “Try staying calm when your model’s flexing so hard he knocks over the entire backdrop.”

You laugh harder than you should, and for a moment, it feels like you're twenty something again — sitting cross-legged on your old apartment’s rooftop at midnight, talking about dreams and futures you thought were set in stone.

The scent of iris, white musk, and soft leather clings to the air — the signature fragrance of Seora, your second home for so many years.

Your mother walks beside you, silent but steady, her presence a pillar against the invisible weight pressing down on your chest. She’s dressed sharply, as always — an elegant blazer, pearl earrings, her posture straight and proud. But you see the way her hands tighten briefly around the strap of her handbag.

You pretend not to notice.

Employees bow as you pass — some with genuine warmth, others with careful restraint. Still, you return every bow with a polite smile, polished and practiced, a mask you've worn too long to forget.

Mark is already waiting just outside your office – leaning lazily against the wall like he owns the place, as usual.

“There she is. Queen of Seora.” He greets you with wide grin, sweeping into an exaggerated bow. “Her Royal Highness finally graces us with her presence.”

You huff a laugh, and even your mother’s lips twitch with reluctant amusement. She’s long since accepted your dynamic with Mark — chaos and comfort stitched together.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Tuan,” you reply, brushing past him.

He shrugs, falling into step behind you. “Worth a shot.”

Inside, your office is unchanged — glass desk, curated shelves, years of framed achievements, the photo of you and your mother at your first gala.

But something feels off today. The air, maybe. Or the way the room echoes in silence a little too much.

Setting your bag down, you smooth the creases out of your skirt, take a seat after behind your desk. Your mother sits across from you – dignified, composed – her eyes scanning the folders Mark has already placed neatly at the center of the table.

“Preliminary turnover documents.” He explains, voice light, still professional. “Contracts, executive summaries, shareholder agreements. The ones needing your signature are flagged.”

You nod, flipping open the top folder. The pages blur for a moment before your vision clears.

You focus. One step at a time.

Across from you, your mother doesn’t speak. But you feel her eyes — weighted, patient. This was her legacy, once. Then yours. Now returning to her hands again only because it was necessary.

Forgetting the folder, she takes your hand in hers. Gives a hesitant but assuring smile as much as she can. “I’ll take care of it, darling. Don’t worry about a thing.”

You swallow thickly as you try to return a smile.

Mark leans back in his chair, trying to break the heaviness taking over the room. “So,” he says, stretching exaggeratedly, “does this mean I get majority of the shares now that the queen is abdicating?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up brighter than you expect. “If you’re willing to handle future meetings with Jeongguk. He’s getting a nice chunk once the papers go through, in case you’re forgetting.”

Mark groans, dragging a hand down his face. “So he gets the shares and visitation rights to you?”

“Didn’t realize this was a custody battle.”

Your mother chimes in dryly, eyes still on the new folders spread across your desk. “Funny how he always ends up with the best part of things he barely worked for.”

Mark’s expression tightens, a mix of humor and something sharper. “Always been the lucky one.”

The next hour is all motion. Documents reviewed, initials scrawled, strategies adjusted. You talk vendor relations. You approve final budget notes. When the paperwork is finally stacked neatly in three clean piles — Pending, Signed, Review Again — you lean back in your chair with a sigh.

Your mother rises, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her blazer. “We’ll go over the audit reports tomorrow. For now, let’s go home.”

Her gaze lingers on you for a moment — searching, aching — before she composes herself again.

You stand too, brushing your fingers lightly over the edge of your desk.

Mark doesn’t move. You look at him. The silence stretches too long — too full. “I’ll handle the Paris accounts. Send you photos soon.”

You manage a soft smile, grateful for everything he’s doing without saying it. “Make sure the lighting at our booth doesn’t wash out the models this year.”

“I’m offended you’d even think it.”

You roll your eyes.

But you’re grateful — so grateful — for the way he keeps the edges of this afternoon from cutting too deep.

The evening settled quietly over the house. No peace lingering – more like a tension waiting for the first person to break. The table was already set when Jeongguk arrived. Steam rose from the dishes laid out — galbi, japchae, kimchi jjigae, and a small stack of neatly rolled egg omelettes.

Picking up his chopsticks, he hesitated before speaking. “So…how was work today?”

You chew slowly, buying yourself a little time before answering. “Busy. Meetings here and there. Some finalizing needed for fashion week. A few contract turnovers. You know, the usual things when companies shift hands.” You shrug like it’s nothing, like you didn’t spend the entire afternoon sorting years of hard work.

Jeongguk’s brows furrow slightly. “You’re…handing things over?”

You’re too quick to answer. “No, no—just…just creating a little space to breathe. Was thinking I want some time to myself.” The assuring smile you give Jeongguk was convincing enough for him to move on to lighter things. “Nothing major.”

“Mark still driving you crazy with last-minute changes?”

"Who else do you know works with me, that loves throwing in new ideas when deadlines are hours away?”

Jeongguk’s mouth quirks into a smile, the first genuine one since he sat down. “Mark. Mark Tuan. Yeah, that sounds about right.”

The night falls into a soft stillness, the kind that follows when the laughter fades and the last dishes are cleaned. Soft light spilled from the kitchen, casting a warm glow that barely reached past the doorway, leaving the front hall in shadow.

Jeongguk stands by the doorway, his hand resting on the frame, fingers lightly touching it like he needs something to hold onto. His eyes drift – over the neatly hung photos on the wall, the soft rug that shows signs of time, the wide staircase that curves the way he remembers.

One photo catches his eye—bigger than the others and set a little apart. Two people in white, laughing like nothing could ever go wrong, with the ocean in the background—Gwangalli, if he’s really looking. You wonder if he missed it this morning. Don’t blame him if he did. The nerves must’ve been burying him six feet under.

“Sorry. I’ll have Eomma take it down,” you clear your throat, breaking the quiet.

“It’s fine,” Jeongguk shifts. Glances at you and then away. “So…the hugs and forehead kisses,” You notice the small smile tugging on the corner of his lips, feeling thankful for the shift from the awkwardness. "That really had to be on the list, huh?"

A soft laugh slips from you, unguarded. “It did.”

“Was it a punishment?” It’s a joke, but you don’t miss the uncertainty flicker in his eyes.

“Is that how you feel?”

Your bluntness catches him off guard. Guilt flashes. The breath he lets out like a quiet surrender.

Slowly, he steps forward, arms coming up in a hesitant, careful hug. His chest brushes yours, his forehead resting lightly against your temple – a touch familiar, but no longer easy.

Your eyes slip closed as you let yourself lean in, not because it feels natural, but because for a moment, it’s enough to remember how it once did.

“Goodnight,” Jeongguk murmurs, his voice low and close.

You smile, the kind that’s felt more than seen. “Goodnight, Gguk.”

He lingers just long enough to press the lightest kiss to your temple — so fleeting it’s almost not there, and yet, when the door clicks shut behind him and the quiet stretches in, it’s the one thing that stays.

You sit on the edge of the bed later, hair still damp from a quick shower, your fingers curled around the corner of the old photo album you'd told yourself not to open tonight.

The room is filled with nothing but the soft hum of the air purifier and the faint ticking of the wall clock. You don’t know what you’re hoping to find in these pages. Something soft, maybe. Something easier than the quiet goodbye at the door.

The pages smell like dust and faint vanilla — the kind your mother used to tuck into the drawers when you were younger. You flip until your fingers still on a picture, one that had always made you laugh.

You’re on a picnic mat, legs stretched out, shoes kicked off beside you. Jeongguk’s in the next one — lying flat on his back with his arms thrown wide, squinting at the sun. There’s a juice box pressed to his cheek like it’s the only thing keeping him alive in the heat. He’s smiling wide, without shame or thought. His hair’s longer, lighter — summer had bleached the tips — and his shirt has ketchup on it.

You can almost hear it again.

"You're the worst picnic planner ever," he groans, dragging the back of his hand over his forehead dramatically.

"You said you wanted hot dogs."

"Not molten lava ones!"

You laugh at the memory. Remembered, he’d still eaten two more after that. Said they were terrible with his mouth full and asked for a third.

You remember how he used to love loudly. How he’d pull you into hugs like he never wanted to let go. The way he’d lean in to kiss your forehead in the middle of a crowd without caring who saw. The time he ran to the other side of the beach where the ice-cream kiosk was, just to bring you a mint chocolate cone he badly wanted you to try, holding it above his head like it was sacred.

"It’s ugly and green."

"You love ugly things."

"That’s why I’m dating you?"

"Exactly," he’d said, grinning, rain dripping from his lashes, "you’ve got great taste."

You close the album slowly.

Tonight, his arms were careful. His kiss, light as a breath. Back then, there was no hesitation. No pause before he touched you, no weight between your names.

You lie back on the bed, pressing your palms over your face, hoping to bury the pain that feels like it has made a home in your chest.

You didn’t think the time would come that you’d have to miss a version of Jeongguk who used to laugh into your shoulder and whisper stupid things to make you snort in public. The version who always held you a little longer, like he could make time stop if he tried hard enough.

You always thought that version of him would stay for a lifetime.

Now, the only way you get to see that side of him is through a list—through something he feels he has to do.

But you’ll take what you can. For now, you’ll accept whatever life hands you.

The sun hasn’t climbed high enough to chase away the gray. The streets are still damp from the night, and your breath clouds faintly as you step outside, coat collar turned up against the early chill. There’s something about mornings like this — quiet, half-lit — that makes everything feel softer around the edges.

You hadn’t slept much. Rest felt like a visitor you forgot to greet last night, slipping past you somewhere between the click of the door and the ache that settled deep in your chest. Still, your steps are steady as you make your way through familiar streets, ones your feet could trace even blindfolded.

The shop appears like a memory made solid — tucked between a florist and a tiny dry cleaner, its awning still a little crooked on one side. The glass is fogged near the bottom, and someone’s taped a doodle of a smiling sun on the door.

Inside, it’s warm. Familiar.

The left wall is still lined with notebooks and sketchpads in soft neutral tones, racks of pastel washi tape, pens arranged by gradient. You let your fingers skim the edge of a purple sketchbook on display — the same brand you used to hoard during finals week. The same ones Jeongguk used to scribble dumb little nothings in just to annoy you.

You claim your usual seat by the window, near the radiator that still hums faintly when it kicks on. The light here is gentle, and the table still has the faint outline of a coffee ring etched into the wood. The café counter sits snug beside the stationery section, and for a second, it’s easy to believe no time has passed at all.

You order for two. Wait. Don’t check your phone. Know Jeongguk’s on his way. Not like you’ve given him a choice.

Your gaze drifts — over the shelves, to the corner where a worn beanbag still sits, slouched as always. Something about the moment folds in on itself, slipping back in time.

You were running late. Again. Hair barely brushed, laces undone, your tote bag unorganized and overflowing with books needed for classes today, jammed under your arm.

The bell above the door had barely finished ringing when you stumbled in and spotted him already there, halfway through a chocolate croissant and bent over your sketchbook – the one you’ve been looking for hours this whole morning, the reason why you were late.

“Seriously?” you’d huffed, dropping into the seat across from him. “Flipped our dorm upside down looking for that and it was with you this whole time?”

“Page 14,” Jeongguk ignored your dramatic flair, eyes not even lifting. “Your mannequin’s missing a head.”

“That’s on purpose,” you muttered, grabbing the sketchbook and flipping it shut. “It’s avant-garde.”

He finally looked up, eyebrows raised in mock seriousness. “Ah. The Headless Collection. Bold.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile pulling at your mouth. “You’re annoying.”

“Thank you. I rehearse.”

You’d kicked him lightly under the table. He’d stolen a bite of your sandwich in retaliation. You’d retaliated harder, dropped three sugar cubes into his coffee knowing he only liked it black and snatched the entire croissant off his plate.

“Hey!” he’d gasped, scandalized, mid-chew. “That’s a war crime.”

You shrugged, all innocence as you took a deliberately slow bite, crumbs tumbling down your chin. “Shouldn’t have touched my sandwich.”

His eyes narrowed. “That croissant had layers.”

“So did my patience,” you replied, mouth full.

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, lowering his voice like he was delivering a threat. “You realize this means war.”

You grinned. “Then choose your weapon wisely, Jeon.”

“Fine. Sketchbook turned doodle board it is.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

And just like that, he was scribbling something on your sketchbook, tongue poking out in concentration while you lunged to grab it back. 

The stationery café had always been your reset button — notebooks open, drinks warm, pencils rolling off the table because Jeongguk couldn’t sit still. He always left little doodles on your margins – stick figures with six-packs, dramatic cape swirls, and when he’d feel to be more annoying, he’d scribble a crown your head.

“This one's you,” he said once, pointing to a tiny sketch of a girl shouting at a sewing machine.

“She looks like she hasn’t slept in three days.”

“Art imitates life.”

You snorted into your latte. “I’m replacing you with someone quieter.”

“Impossible,” he grinned. “You’d miss me by lunchtime.”

He was right.

You always did.

And now, it wasn’t just during your chaotic uni lunch breaks that you missed him

The chair across from you slides back gently.

You don’t look up right away — just fumble with your phone before meeting his eyes.

Jeongguk shrugs off his coat with one hand, ruffles his hair like the wind annoyed him, then sits. Tie loose around his collar, shirt wrinkled just enough to tell you he dressed in a hurry. He glances around, then places a single stem of purple tulips on the table, the soft color a little too bright for the morning. “They still sell those overpriced gel pens?”

You nod, sipping your drink. “They’re too smooth to resist.“

His eyes flick toward the shelves. “I used to steal yours.”

“You used to steal everything.”

He smiles faintly — just the corner of his mouth lifting. “You let me.”

“Was being generous.”

The waitress sets down your orders — one pastry each, two drinks. You watch as Jeongguk breaks a corner off his croissant. Eats it with quiet precision. He never used to do that. Used to make a mess.

You don’t comment on it.

“So,” he says after a moment, brushing crumbs from his fingers, “still designing things with no heads?���

You didn’t think he’d remember. A smile slips across your lips. “Wow. Callback.”

“I’m nostalgic.”

Your eyes meet. There’s something light there, flickering — not quite the warmth from before, but you’re glad to see something at least.

You reach into your bag and pull out a thin sketchpad, sliding it across the table. He lifts the cover slowly, eyes scanning your latest work. “You gave her a head this time.”

You lean back, arms crossed loosely. “Growth.”

He chuckles under his breath, fingers smoothing the paper. “She looks like she’s running.”

“She is.”

Jeongguk doesn’t ask from what. Doesn’t say anything at all. Just taps the edge of the page twice, then closes it.

The silence is comfortable. A little cautious. But not cold.

You tear off a small piece of your pastry, drop it on his plate like old habit. Used to do it when you still had some left from his that you’d stolen. Even if you’d stolen his precious croissant, you never actually finished it, always left most of it for him – knowing breakfast was the only time he’d actually eat properly, your favorite meal of the day – before the two of you start your own classes.

You knew he’d run on caffeine and stubbornness alone until evening. Then he’d video call you during one of his lectures looking like a grumpy, overgrown bunny with a camera strap digging into his neck and a frown set between his brows.

He blinks at it, then at you. “What’s that for?”

“For luck,” you simply reason.

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t believe in luck.”

“Thought maybe I could this time.”

Jeongguk looks at you as if he’s trying to read you. Like there’s something else he wants to say. Ends up not saying anything. Just eats the piece.

Your drink’s gone lukewarm, still you sip away hoping to drown in the energy it’s supposed to give with the day that’s waiting ahead of you. Jeongguk’s gaze lingers out the window for a moment, watching a cyclist roll by, the soft clatter of gears audible through the glass.

“You still come here often?” he asks, voice casual.

“Every now and then,” you say softly. “Some places just… stick.”

Jeongguk doesn’t press. You’re thankful he doesn’t.

“I used to think the owner hated me,” he says instead. “Always caught me doodling on the napkins.”

“She didn’t hate you,” you reply. “She thought you were wasting perfectly good napkins.”

A small chuckle rumbles in his chest. “I was creating modern art.”

You roll your eyes. “You drew a chicken with sunglasses.”

“Exactly. Groundbreaking stuff. I’m the direct descendant of Van Gogh.”

The laugh that escapes you is softer this time — real, but quieter than it might’ve been years ago. You catch him watching you then. Not intensely. Not curiously. Just… there. Present. It slips away quickly when he looks down, wiping off his side of the table in random circles.

You glance over your shoulder at the display shelf by the counter — a glass case where people leave notes, scraps of things from past visits. It used to be empty. Now it’s cluttered and full of lives layered on top of one another.

Jeongguk follows your gaze. “We never left anything in there.”

“No,” you murmur. “We never needed to.”

He nods slowly, and you wonder if the weight in your words settled somewhere in him too.

You reach into your coat pocket and pull out a pen. Those smooth gel types you always fell for even when you promised yourself you wouldn’t spend another won on stationery. You slide it across the table toward him.

He looks at it, then at you. “For me?”

“Figured you’d want to deface another napkin.”

Jeongguk tears off the corner of one of the paper placemats and scribbles something. You reach over and take the pen back before he can set it down, slipping it into your pocket like it was nothing. He folds the scrap once and tucks it into his jacket.

“You’re not putting it in the case?” You ask, confused why he’d even want to keep something like that – something you’re sure doesn’t matter to him anymore.

“Maybe next time.”

You finish the last sip of your drink as the hour pulls closer to what’s next — work, the rest of the day, the return to whatever this routine is becoming between the two of you.

You stand, slipping your bag over your shoulder, grabbing on to the purple tulip after.

Jeongguk rises too, fingers brushing the edge of the table like he’s grounding himself again – a new habit you started noticing from him.

“Thanks for showing up,” you say lightly, adjusting your scarf.

I had to. He doesn’t say it, but you can see the words hovering in the hesitation behind his eyes — quiet, but impossible to miss.

The sky’s a little brighter when you both step out. The cold still clings to your skin, but the café warmth lingers at your back.

As you turn to go, Jeongguk calls out, “Hey.”

You glance back.

“I liked the new sketch,” he says. “She looked like she knew where she was going.”

“She doesn’t.”

He smiles faintly. “Neither did we.”

You don’t say anything. Just tuck your hands into your pockets, gave one last nod, before walking away.

As you pass the glass, you catch a glimpse of something slightly out of step, tucked into the reflection. You, a little lighter, and the boy beside you who used to draw chickens with sunglasses and mumble dumb jokes just to see you pretend not to laugh.

And for a moment, it’s easy to pretend this is just another morning in the middle of an old life that never cracked at the seams.

The office is a mess. Papers piled up like threats, some teetering close to the edge of his desk. The inbox blinks like a warning light. Jeongguk sits in the middle of it all, elbows pressing into the surface, fingers rubbing at his eyes. The screen blurs. Photoshoots. Edits. Meetings he’s already missed. His coffee’s gone cold. The tremble in his hand says it’s his third cup — or fourth. He’s lost count.

And on top of it all, a notification from Taehyung flashes across his phone.

K. Taehyung: Lunch date with Jiwoo.

Jeongguk swears under his breath, chair scraping against the floor as he stands. He grabs his coat on the way out, not bothering to fix his hair in the hallway mirror. As he shrugs it on, something light slips from his pocket and lands near the leg of the desk—a torn bit of paper, edges smudged faintly with purple petals drawn from a gel pen. He doesn’t notice. Leaves the office without checking if he’s forgotten anything else.

The drive to the café blurs by. Taehyung’s voice crackles through the speaker, rambling about a rookie group, a broken light, a late shoot — but Jeongguk only half-listens, mind drifting far away.

Muted light through tall windows. The smell of ground coffee, old novels, and notebooks. The gentle scrape of a cup across a wooden table. A sketchbook lying open.

His hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel.

The café he pulls up to now is different. Newer, glass and steel, designed for aesthetics more than comfort. Inside, everything gleams. Clean lines. Polished floors. The hum of conversation blends with quiet jazz in the background, curated to feel effortless.

Jiwoo’s already at the table when he enters. She stands when she sees him, her smile brief, eyes scanning his face like she’s trying to gauge the weather. She leans in for a hug, light and cautious.

A waitress appears, takes their orders — sandwiches, two coffees. Then the silence settles between them, brittle and careful.

 “You texted me,” Jiwoo speaks first. “Didn’t say much.”

Jeongguk exhales, straightens the napkin on his lap. “It wasn’t something I could explain over the phone.”

She nods slowly. “I figured.”

He runs a thumb along the rim of his water glass. “She found the divorce papers.”

There’s a pause. Jiwoo’s gaze drops for a moment, something unreadable settling in her expression before she nods again. “I thought that might happen. You waited too long, Gguk.”

“I know.”

“How did she take it?”

Jeongguk stares at the edge of the table. “She didn’t cry. Didn’t yell. Just… agreed. Agreed to sign on her terms.”

Jiwoo raises an eyebrow. “What kind of terms?”

“Meals together. Flowers. Staying close. Old habits. Forehead kisses,” he finishes, voice lower now. “Just… things we used to do.”

The words sounded simple when laid out like that, but they weren’t. They were heavy, drenched in old love and broken memories.

She looks down at her drink, stirring it even though it doesn’t need stirring. “And you agreed?”

Jeongguk nods. “I owe her at least that much.”

The noise in the café comes like a blessing. Somewhere behind them, a coffee grinder whirs to life. A baby laughs. Jeongguk’s eyes flick toward the window, to the glint of sun on glass, anywhere else except on Jiwoo, too scared of what he might find — anger, jealousy, resentment.

But he finds none of it when he finally turns to her. Only sadness. And love. And guilt.

“I hate that we hurt her,” Jiwoo says after a moment, her voice thick with guilt. “I never meant for it to turn out like this. I hope I can tell her that.”

Jeongguk’s gaze drops to her hands, still, folded tightly together. There’s a quiet ache in the way they sit, almost like they’re waiting for something. He doesn’t pause to think—just moves, his hand gently covering hers. It’s not an answer. Not an apology. Simply a comfort he hopes she feels is enough from his touch.

“I know,” he murmurs. “Neither of us did.”

The words hang in the space between them, soft but solid. Like stones dropped into still water, rippling outward. They don’t shatter anything. Not yet. But they make everything shift.

Jiwoo lets out a breath she’s been holding. Her eyes glisten, but she doesn’t cry. “Sometimes I think maybe I deserve to lose everything.”

“You didn’t make me love her less,” Jeongguk says. “That’s on me. And you’re not losing anything. I’m here. I’m still here.”

His words are calm, certain—like if he says it gently enough, it’ll stop the noise in his head.

The hard office couch pressing into your back wakes you up with a sharp breath and neck sore from where you’d curled up with your throw blanket. The room is dim and quiet, the evening air is calm and something warm and tasty drifts through the air.

Your eyes flutter open, confusion tightening in your chest.

Jeongguk.

He’s there, kneeling by the coffee table, unpacking takeout containers with quick, careful movements. The soft crinkle of paper bags and the light tap of chopsticks on plastic fill the still of the room. His hair falls over his forehead, his sleeves pushed up, jaw tight and sharp in the fading light.

“Jeongguk… what—” you rasp, voice rough from sleep, “what are you doing here?”

He stills for half a second, fingers pausing on the lid of a box.

When he looks up, his eyes flick across you quickly — too quickly.  “You’re kidding, right?” His laugh is soft, faintly bitter. “You called me here. Dinner. List.” He lifts a takeout box slightly, then lets it fall back with a soft thud. “Just following orders.”

There’s a heaviness in the way he holds himself, something tense in his shoulders, in the tired set of his mouth. But you can’t name it. Only know it’s been this way for the past few days.

Silence was acceptable, clearly you stated that on the list, but meals lately went on without your slight playful banter. Just when you thought your conversations could last more than five sentences now.

Jeongguk was never the type to waste food – something about a silly belief that the Gods would take away his perfect sculpture if he even dared – but you’ve been cleaning up for him lately, giving away his leftovers to the homeless you’d find after your dinners.

He drags a hand through his hair, exhales sharply. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, voice rougher now. “Forget it.”

Jeongguk doesn’t look at you. Just pushes a pair of chopsticks toward your side of the table, carelessly, like he doesn’t want to talk. Then you catch it – subtle, but present.

A scent that doesn’t belong here. Sweet, citrus, expensive – far from the lavender one that sticks to your blazers for weeks – one that you’d sense clinging onto his shirts when he came home too late. The same scent hovering in the car when you borrowed his since yours was in the shop one time. The scent that told you something had shifted before the universe decided to slap you with the truth.

You shift your legs beneath the blanket, voice gentle. “You were with her today, weren’t you?”

Jeongguk stops mid-movement. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t answer. Doesn’t have to.

Still, you smile—small, sad, and real. “It’s okay. I just… noticed.”

He exhales, short and stiff. “You always do.”

“You’re acting like you got caught doing something wrong.” It’s meant to tease, to warm the cold edge creeping in – a light touch to remind him that he doesn’t have to walk on egg shells around you anymore.

He finally turns to face you, expression tired. “Didn’t I?”

“No,” you say, quiet. “Not really.”

Jeongguk stares at you, like he doesn’t know what to do with the kindness you’ve been showing. Eyes flicking away for a second like he’s searching for a reason to deserve it. But there’s nothing—just you, sitting there, still choosing to stay soft when it would’ve been easier not to.  

You pat the spot on the couch beside you. “Sit down. Eat something. Then talk to me.”

“Kind of hard to do when our wedding rings are right here and well –“

A small laugh echoes from you, unsure if it’s meant to ease the tension or just fill the silence.

“Think about you and me, back in Uni, two dumb teenagers whose biggest crisis was whether to stock up on strawberry or banana milk for finals week."

There’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth, a glimmer of the old Jeongguk you remember. “Banana Milk wins, by the way.”

“Nuh-uh. Strawberry milk.” You chuckle, slowly drifting back to your point. “You’ve got to let out whatever you’re holding in there, Gguk. Sulking through the remaining twenty-two days will make you feel like there’s twenty-two years left. I can’t have you hating me for that long."

It’s a soft joke, still, it curls in your chest like smoke.

“I don’t hate you.” he says, like it never even crossed his mind.

Eyes focused on the blanket, you nod, holding onto the words quietly—they’re not much, but they’re more than you thought you’d get.

“If it helps, I’ll turn around and you can talk,” Shifting slight, folding your legs beneath, you face the other way. “You won’t get to see me, won’t get to worry about how I’ll react. Maybe I’ll nod, just to let you know I’m listening, and promise, I will.”

The air is filled with stillness. You think Jeongguk might’ve left you in the office but you hear his soft breaths as he lowers himself beside you, slowly but heavy with the weight he’s been carrying for the past few days.

“I was with her today.” He starts, quickly stops, unsure if he should continue but does anyway, the weight burning in his chest. “We talked earlier this week. About you. About…everything.”

You wait. Because if there’s one thing you still know how to do, it’s wait for him to speak when he doesn’t want to.

“She feels guilty,” he goes on. “Wants you to know that she never meant for it to happen this way. That we hurt you.”

You nod slowly, not because it helps, but because you’re too tired to hold it against her, against them. Most importantly, if it eases something in Jeongguk, then that’s more than enough.

Your heart stumbles but you let him continue, keeping that promise to listen.

“Told her about the list you set up before we…”

“Divorce. You can say it.” There’s a quiet laugh that escapes you.

“Right. That. Uhm…so I told her that and she’s scared.” Jeongguk says, voice cracking in between. “Thinks she’s going to lose me.”

“Will she?” You question a little sharp. Didn’t mean to. Just blurted it out in the spur of the moment.

“No.” he answers too quickly. Your heart silently cracks too quickly. “I mean…fuck, I don’t mean to sound –” You begin to hear sniffs and the slight tremble of his hands that are too close to your back now, as if he’s trying to reach out to you, trying to apologize to you.

“Hey, Gguk, breathe. It’s okay. It’s just me. Eighteen-year-old me, strawberry milk. Focus. I know you’ve got this.” You smile even though he can’t see it. Hoped he hears it in your voice the comfort you want to give him.

And you think it might’ve worked when you catch that soft, boyish laugh, just like the one he had at eighteen.

“It’s why I’ve been seeing her more often these days. Wanted to make her feel that I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s good you’re trying for her,” you manage to say. “But you sound more exhausted than relieved that you’re trying.”

He lets out a breath, ragged. “Because I am exhausted. Feels like I’m not trying enough. Feels like I broke something." He pauses. "No, I know I did. Her. You. Me. And now I feel stuck pretending like I know how to fix it.”

“You don’t have to fix anything, Gguk.” You say softly. “Not for me.”

The quiet in the room makes you hear him clearly swallow the lump in his throat. “What do I do?”

“Focus on you and her, if that’s what you want. Save what you can. Fight for what you can. Don’t carry all of the weight.” You pause, staring ahead, on the shelves behind your desk. “You may be the golden boy, but you’re not God.” The words sit between you for a second. “Can’t save everybody. Simple as that.”

A small silence settles, like peace finding its way.

Behind you, the shift is clear when you hear Jeongguk move closer; leans in just enough to press a soft kiss to the side of your head. His arms wrap around you, gentle, like old times. You’d like to think it is and not because of some stupid terms you listed on paper.

“You always knew how to keep me off the ledge.” His grip around your waist tightens for a second. Your heart tightens too. “Why did you let me talk to you like this?”

You let out an unintended shaky breath. “Because you’re trying.”

“Trying what?”

“To be good.” You don’t move, just sit there with him holding on, blanket in between, your hands curled into the fabric to keep them from shaking.

You wanted this—for him to feel lighter, even just a little. And you meant every word. You really did.

But each word that slipped out left a mark, small and invisible, like paper cuts. You blink, slow, but a tear still slips free, soaking into your lap before you can stop it.

Jeongguk doesn’t see. You don’t let him.

The deal was for him to open up to you. No one said anything about you needing to open up in return.

And some things are better left quiet.

[prokopetz]

Your long and arduous journey has led you to this, the final confrontation. You thought you knew what to expect, but just as you struck the final blow, your ultimate foe's eyes gleamed with unnatural light as they proclaimed…

THIS ISN'T EVEN MY FINAL FORM

A game for 4–6 players

Introduction

This Isn't Even My Final Form is a GMless tactical minigame for 4–6 players. You'll take on the roles of a party of heroic adventurers nearing the end of a world-spanning quest to defeat a great evil, the Final Boss. Unfortunately for them, each time they think they've won, the Final Boss assumes a new, even more horrifying form, and the struggle begins anew. Is there any end to this conflict? There's only one way to find out!

What You'll Need

This Isn't Even My Final Form requires a dozen six-sided dice, as well as a way of keeping track of a few important numbers – a shared text document or some scrap paper will suffice.

Update 2023-10-30: Print-and-play card decks are available here:

http://penguinking.com/this-isnt-even-my-final-form/

Character Creation

Choose two of the following actions to be your Party Member's Class Actions: Strike, Heal, Buff, Debuff. If you'd rather determine this randomly, roll on the following table.

1. Strike, Heal 2. Strike, Buff 3. Strike, Debuff 4. Heal, Buff 5. Heal, Debuff 6. Buff, Debuff

Give your Party Member's Class a name which suits your Class Actions. Also give your Party Member a name; it is traditional but not obligatory for your Party Member's name to have exactly five letters.

Playing the Game

Play is divided into a series of Phases. During each Phase, one player takes on the role of the Final Boss. That player's Party Member does not participate in this Phase; they're trapped, lost, incapacitated, or otherwise separated from the party or unable to act for the duration of the Phase. All other players take on the roles of their Party Members.

The Final Boss player's first order of business is to describe what the current Phase looks like. The Final Boss player can roll 1–3 times on the following table (re-rolling duplicates) to decide on a theme, or use it as inspiration for their own theme. To use this table, roll a six-sided die twice, treating the first roll as the "tens" place and the second roll as the "ones" place, yielding a number in the range from 11 to 66.

11. Beasts 12. Bells 13. Blood 14. Bones 15. Chains 16. Chaos 21. Cubes 22. Eyes 23. Fire 24. Flowers 25. Food 26. Games 31. Gears 32. Glass 33. Gold 34. Hands 35. Holes 36. Ice 41. Iron 42. Light 43. Mazes 44. Meat 45. Mirrors 46. Music 51. Orbs 52. Order 53. Plague 54. Shadow 55. Slime 56. Space 61. Spikes 62. Teeth 63. Time 64. Trees 65. Weapons 66. Wings

Once the Phase has been defined, set the party's Momentum to zero. Momentum is a value which will increase or decrease over the course of the Phase; it has a minimum value of zero, and no particular upper limit.

Play proceeds in a series of rounds, as follows.

The Final Boss Attacks

The Final Boss always goes first in each round. Roll one die:

1–3: The Final Boss chooses one of the following actions. 4–5: The Final Boss chooses two of the following actions. You may not target the same Party Member twice; however, you may use the same action on two different Party Members if you wish. 6: The Final Boss does nothing this round. On its turn next round, it does not roll and instead uses its Ultimate Attack.

Wound: Inflict the Critical Condition on a single Party Member. If the chosen Party Member already has the Critical Condition, it's replaced with the Down Condition and the party loses one Momentum.

Imprecate: Inflict the Cursed Condition on a single Party Member.

Envenom: Inflict the Poisoned Condition on a single Party Member.

Bewilder: Inflict the Confused Condition on a single Party Member.

Counter: If you're targeted by the Strike or Debuff actions this round, after resolving that action, perform the Wound action on the Party Member who targeted you. You may counter any number of actions in this way.

Dispel: Remove the Buffed and Protected Conditions from any number of Party Members.

Enrage: The Final Boss rolls two dice and takes the better result on its next action. The party may cancel this benefit with a successful Debuff action; doing so removes the extra die instead of forcing the Final Boss to roll twice and take the lower result.

Ultimate Attack: This action can only be chosen by rolling a 6 during the previous round. When the Final Boss uses this action, choose Cursed, Poisoned, or Confused: you may perform the Wound action AND inflict the chosen Condition upon any number of Party Members, in that order. (i.e., Wound each targeted Party Member, THEN Curse/Confuse/Poison any who remain standing.)

The Final Boss player describes the outcome of the chosen action(s) in as much or as little detail as they like; control then passes to the other players.

The Party Acts

After the Final Boss has attacked, each Party Member who doesn't have the Down condition chooses one of the following actions, in any order the players wish. After choosing any action other than Defend, the player rolls their dice pool, which is a handful of six-sided dice constructed as follows:

Start with a number of dice equal to the party's current Momentum (initially zero, though it will grow over the course of the Phase)

Add one die if you're performing one of your Party Member's Class Actions

Add one die if your Party Member currently has the Buffed Condition

Add one die if your Party Member currently has the Critical Condition

Roll all of the dice together, and find the highest result. Ties for the highest result have no special significance; for example, if you rolled four dice and got 1, 3, 5 and 5, your result is 5. If you'd ever end up with zero or fewer dice for any reason – either because your dice pool was empty to begin with, or because some effect obliged you to discard every die you rolled – you receive an automatic result of 1.

If an action requires you to target a specific Party Member or make other choices, you can wait and see the result of your roll before making those decisions.

Strike: You attack the Final Boss. Roll your dice pool:

1–3: Nothing happens – either the attack misses, or the Final Boss turns out to be immune to whatever you just did. 4–5: The attack strikes true. The party gains one Momentum. 6: Critical hit! The party gains two Momentum.

Special: If you roll triples or better (i.e., at least three of the same number) on a Strike action, the Final Boss' current Phase is defeated, and you move on to the next Phase. It doesn't matter what number comes up triples.

Heal: You attempt to restore the party's strength. Roll your dice pool:

1–3: You may remove the Critical Condition from a single Party Member. If no Party Member has the Critical Condition, nothing happens. 4–5: You may remove the Critical Condition from any number of party members OR you may remove the Down Condition from a single Party Member. 6: You may remove the Critical and Down Conditions from any number of party members.

Buff: You attempt to bolster a party member. Roll your dice pool:

1–3: You may grant the Buffed Condition to a single Party Member OR remove a Condition of your choice other than Critical or Down from a single Party Member. 4–5: You may grant the Buffed Condition to a single Party Member AND remove a Condition of your choice other than Critical or Down from that Party Member, if they have one. 6: You may grant the Buffed Condition OR remove a Condition of your choice other than Critical or Down to any number of Party Members. You may choose a different option for each targeted Party Member.

Debuff: You attempt to weaken the Final Boss. Roll your dice pool:

1-3: Nothing happens – it turns out the Final Boss was immune to that effect. 4–5: The Final Boss rolls two dice and takes the lower result on its next action. 6: The Final Boss rolls two dice and takes the lower result on its next action AND the party gains one Momentum.

Defend: You may grant the Protected condition to a Party Member of your choice. Do not roll.

Based on the outcome of your roll (if applicable), describe the outcome of your action in as much or as little detail as you wish.

Once each Party Member has acted, return to "The Final Boss Attacks" to begin the next round.

Ending the Phase

As noted above, rolling triples or better on a Strike action results in the immediate defeat of the current Phase. Alternatively, if all Party Members simultaneously have the Down Condition, the Final Boss player's Party Member suddenly breaks free or arrives on the scene and rescues everyone in a stunning deus ex machina; this also ends the Phase, but does not count as defeating it.

In either case, reset the party's momentum to zero, remove all Conditions, and move on to the next Phase. The role of the Final Boss passes to a different player, with preference given to those who haven't yet had a chance to be the Final Boss; the previous Final Boss player resumes playing their Party Member.

Continue until the party has defeated a number of Phases at least equal to the number of players, or until mutual agreement has been reached that all this has gone on quite long enough.

Conditions

Some actions can impose Conditions upon the individual Party Members. Conditions can be positive or negative, and last until specific conditions for their removal are met.

Buffed: Your strength has been boosted. When rolling your dice pool, you roll one extra die.

Confused: You've lost your wits. When the party acts, your action is determined by rolling a d6 – 1: Strike; 2: Heal; 3: Buff; 4: Debuff; 5: Defend; 6: do nothing this round AND remove this Condition. This Condition is also removed if you gain the Critical Condition while under its effects. You may choose targets normally if the rolled action requires them. Confused Party Members always act before their un-Confused peers; if there are multiple Confused Party Members, the Final Boss decides the order in which they act.

Critical: You are badly wounded. Desperation lends strength, and so this Condition adds one extra die to your dice pools; however, if you suffer the Critical Condition a second time, it becomes the Down Condition instead.

Cursed: You've been afflicted with misfortune. Discard your highest result after rolling your dice pool, but before applying your chosen action's effects. If there's a tie for the highest result, discard all of them; for example, if you roll four dice while Cursed and get 1, 3, 5 and 5, your result is 3. If the Condition causes you to discard your only set of triples of better on a Strike action, the Phase does not end.

Down: You are incapacitated by injury or foul enchantment. When the party acts, you may not choose an action; your action remains lost even if this Condition is removed before the end of the round. When you gain this Condition, remove all other Conditions, and the party loses one Momentum. (This is not in addition to the Momentum loss noted by effects which inflict this Condition – those are just reminders.) You may not gain other Conditions while this one persists.

Poisoned: You're afflicted by a poison, plague, or death-curse. If you have the Poisoned Condition after resolving your action for the round, you gain the Critical Condition. If you already have the Critical Condition, you instead gain the Down Condition, and the party loses one Momentum.

Protected: The next time you would gain any Condition other than Buffed, remove this Condition instead. You also remove this Condition if you take any action other than Defend on your turn.

[earthstellar]

Earth Music on the Lost Light: Human Music That Cybertronians Like

we know for a fact that the Lost Light has access to human media, primarily movies, TV shows, and music-- and we know they generally seem to fucking love most of it, or at least find it interesting

but what would everyone's tastes be, in regards to Earth music?

time to talk about music for a long time!!! strap in, enjoy some tunes

we already know Cyclonus has impeccable taste and enjoys some of the best jams the 80s had to offer.

I can't help but imagine Rodimus being given a media archive of Earth tunes to approve for the Earth Dance would only result in chaos

(it's not like he would say no to anything, he absolutely blanket signed it all, it's just an obligatory thing-- or Ultra Magnus tells him it is, solely to keep him away from Important Captain Things that he would rather handle himself or hand off to Megatron, lmao. the shit that really needs to get done)

and this is how Rodimus discovers the somewhat questionable yet amazing genre of "mid-90s underground techno rave mix tapes"

(somewhat related, I still think Testarossa might as well be Rodimus' theme song, although it's not a 90s track and has more of an 80s synth vibe)

Rodimus would love that "computers are the future, fuck yeah let's make Digital Cool Future Music" mid-90s shit, there is no way he would not. it has the exact energy level that appeals to him and is also cheesy and weird and chaotic. and has like 500 different sub-genres, so his selection is endless, lmao.

he would probably find it cute that this is what humans imagined to be the peak of "digital sound" at the time. like lmao this was the best humans could do when asked to create music that sounds like it was made by robots or other mechanical space future cyber lifeforms--high concept!!! he would probably find it interesting and endearing. this is what organics think non-organic music is like!!

anyone acting as DJ at Swerve's on any given night would be so, so mad that Rodimus keeps requesting shit like "DJ MASSIMO ITALO DISCO BEST RAVE TUNES LIVE FROM LONDON 1995" or "DJ ARMPIT SLUDGE FEST HOUSE-RAVE-DRUMS N BASS SET 1996" for them to play, lmao

not individual tracks. the whole album. entire mix tapes of random, somewhat questionable mid-90s techno house rave bullshit.

that having been said, that good ass early 90s trance techno might send him into a spiral depending on his mood at the time, lmao (it's been known to happen)

but at the same time I can imagine him sharing tracks like Solar Quest - Space Pirates with Drift and they'd both just sit there and jam out, but quietly, thinking about shit while sitting in a port window next to each other (this was peak sleepover party techno, Back in My Day-- many deep conversations were had while listening to stuff like this, lol)

Drift would probably find some of Rodmus' recommended stuff to be pretty good for meditation-- although once he finds out about the human drug culture involved and certain concepts of experimental consciousness etc. that surrounded techno/rave and other related genres, it might cause him to pull back a little bit

(until he finds out about kandi culture, in which case, Drift would love the idea of hand-made unique bracelets and sentimental trinkets being made and exchanged at warehouse shows purely out of Good Vibes and Love for Fellow Beings and it turns out actually he fucking loves this shit, a chill vibes based "expand your mind" kind of music subculture appeals to his Spectralist sensibilities and he likes sharing tunes with Rodimus in return)

Drift picking tracks on his own would likely lead him down more of a classic rock road, but more of the chill side of things, more of the folksy type of classic rock -- I can see Drift really enjoying Spirit in the Sky - Norman Greenbaum or California Dreamin' - The Mamas and the Papas. or like, Incense and Peppermints - Strawberry Alarm Clock.

I mean, Drift might even go Full Earth Hippie and end up liking Green Tambourine - Lemon Pipers, lmao. in fact I am fairly certain of this.

I can see Drift loving Aquarius/Let The Sunshine In - The 5th Dimension. the whole vibe would probably appeal to him.

he'd quite possibly also like I Need a Dollar - Aloe Blacc, but it hits him in a place that still hurts to think about. so it's in rare rotation.

meanwhile Ratchet would probably be fine with classic rock too, like the good Dad Rock shit, just a lot of tracks from the 70s/80s -- a couple tracks he and Drift could probably agree on would likely lean more into the experimental/psychedelic rock side of things, like White Room - Cream or something like Wheel in the Sky - Journey

Rodimus tries to troll Ratchet by recommending Old Time Rock n Roll - Bob Seger, but joke's on him because it turns out Ratchet loves it, lmao

Swerve would go all out on classic bar jams for the evening playlist. Chill, good shit like Do It Again - Steely Dan.

Megatron would love Sinnerman - Nina Simone; He'd send it to Drift in a command crew level secured data packet, and they would both feel the hell out of this song. They don't need to talk about why. They never mention it to each other.

Megs would also probably love These Old Bones by Dolly Parton (mostly due to the lyrics, rather than the upbeat tune, but he would find it relatively relaxing), as well as 9 to 5 (of course), and similar music. Country from back in the day when country music was more about the struggle of poverty and the working life of rural people. Country music from back when songs told all the untold stories. He can respect that.

He'd listen to You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive by Patty Loveless and it would get him right in the fucking spark. Megatron is the Cybertronian equivalent of an Appalachian miner, god dammit. He understands.

Megatron would also like Johnny Cash; He would overthink Ghost Riders in the Sky and it would depress him, partly because it reminds him of Seekers... sigh.

I think he'd also like Cold War - Janelle Monae. He'd be way into good lyrics; What's being said in a song matters most to him. "This is a cold war, you better know what you're fighting for..." Indeed.

anyway I like thinking about what jams Cybertronians might like from their available selection of Earth tunes

[toy-powerhouse]

Humanity’s Indifference to Weirdness and the Void it Creates in RotTMNT

The human world of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is shallow and adds nothing to the characterization of the titular protagonists or the overall story. Even as a series intended for children as young as 7-years old, there's so little depth or nuance to baseline human society in RotTMNT. In the series, humans just sort of don't care about the existence of mutants, Yōkai, or any other magical or paranormal weirdness that they encounter, which you'd think that lackadaisical attitude might result in some pretty compelling or entertaining scenarios. Well, it doesn't. Not really.

The humans of RotTMNT are so indifferent towards everything strange like the mutant turtles, and yet their indifference is rarely ever exaggerated for laughs, despite how supposedly comedic this particular adaptation is. Then there’s the vague suggestion that humankind’s indifference to weirdness might be owed to their ignorance as it’s somewhat implied that most humans just assume that mutants and Yōkai are wearing costumes, as shown in season one, episode 5B, “Mascot Melee,” where the turtles find themselves in Times Square getting mistaken for costumed mascots and use that to their advantage.

After that episode, the turtles appear to more brazenly enter spaces filled with humans, with or without paper-thin disguises. The mutant turtles roam the streets in broad daylight, all while humans don’t react to their mutant-ness in any meaningful way. Almost as if them being mutants is a non-issue. It’s to the point where they may as well not be mutants or humans may as well not exist in this adaptation for all the difference it makes. Barring Draxum’s prejudice against humans being the catalyst for his villainous ambitions, the presence of ordinary humans in the series while obligatory, is ultimately pretty pointless in a way.

How humans feel about the bizarre antics that go on around them is never really explored in RotTMNT, whether in the form of wisecracking asides, befuddled and aghast reactions, or malicious outrage, the audience isn’t privy to these responses from baseline humanity. The absence of these responses makes the universe feel much less engaging. This is something the 1987 cartoon adaptation as well as the more recent Tales of the TMNT especially avoid by having there be some focus on the spectrum of reactions the turtles and any other strangeness elicits from ordinary humans. In the 1987 series, reactions from humans vary from the very positive, with some humans admiring the turtles as heroes, to the extremely negative, with some humans treating them with disdain and disgust.

Unlike the 1987 and TotTMNT adaptations which have April reveal the turtles’ existence to the public, RotTMNT doesn’t have that explicit confirmation with all the nuance that that exposure would entail. RotTMNT also departs from the usual TMNT formula in which their existence is largely hidden from baseline humanity. Instead RotTMNT doesn’t establish any kind of standard, and that lack of consistency and depth to its world makes for a limited setting with little to offer for both its characters in-universe and the audience.

This, in conjunction with the main characters’ lack of interest in pursuing relationships outside of their family unit, makes for even more insipid worldbuilding and storylines, something that I wrote about in my other write-up “The Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles turtles have some serious “No Friends” energy.” It all seems linked to the characters’ disinterest in how others outside their family perceive them, which itself is symptomatic of how this series devalues and neglects the importance of friendship and non-familial support systems, which are otherwise staple themes in most TMNT adaptations and aligns with other core values of the franchise (e.g., acceptance of those outside the norm, not judging others by their appearances, etc). RotTMNT changes things by virtually omitting all that, effectively leaving in its place a gaping void of nothingness, much like the empty, substanceless human world it features.

[pigeonwithabriefcase]

hello. so I don't know jack shit about the meta plot of chnt. i haven't read any of the episodes descriptions or anything. do NOT know what the entity numbers or anything mean. what the hell is the limn. i don't know. so would you mind. giving me the run down,? As much as you'd like to

bett im literally so excited im twirling you around and shit thank you so much for asking Okay so obligatory: this is all completely from my observation and despite my best attempts to be factual and objective will likely contain personal bias in one way or another and in no way shape or form is reflective of what these things will actually be/are in the canon of the show. Wonderful

Firstly may I highly suggest you read the episode descriptions they are 1) Hilarious, 2) Incredibly interesting and 3) Make you feel like you're in the 2012-2015 early Gravity Falls fandom solving the mysteries and decoding the ciphers. Obviously not necessary but I've been absolutely enthralled and have had the time of my life theorising and such!!!!! :]

Basically, each episode has a description that follows a format like this:

"Major insight" is data (for lack of a better word?) in reference to the major themes/events/interactions/etc of the episode, while "minor insight" is the same but for smaller, background, or implied (but not necessarily less important) themes/events/interactions/etc. While the rest of the description is for the majority written in objective third person, "Important notes" is written entirely in first person and in such a manner that implies a new and outside presence—From which we know who the agents are!!!!!! Everybody cheered!!!!!!!!

If you follow the happenings with the show and sort of red string board connect them to the dot points within the episode descriptions, you begin to notice patterns, and decode who is who and what is what.

For example, in the episode 1 description, you can figure out what SITE2 is based on the key words "status, layout, and daily procedure". You know it's a... Well, site, or place, and episode 1 takes place entirely within the camp (as far as I remember), and contains all of the above in Sydney's announcements! Logic!!!!

I've been keeping note of this since about late 2023? Here's my observations of who each entity, each site, and each anomaly is being referred to, based on the method I just described:

There's some gaps here and there because I haven't reviewed these in a while, but pretty comprehensive, right? (Also, some of the "entities" switched places within the descriptions which was a pain in the ass to figure out, so I haven't included them to spare you from being overwhelmed?? Of coooourse I encourage you to delve into it of your own accord though :)))) Just know that the ones I listed here is the most current (within the canon) version)

Also using this method, we can begin to figure out what the hell all these things mean, cause right now it just looks cryptic for the sake of being cryptic. Just to fit with the theme of the show. BUT ALAS!!!!!

The first thing here I want to say is that the limn is an Event that in one way or another had weird wacky time-space-reality-altering properties within the universe of CHNT, of which the agents seem to be investigating. The leading theory, and most likely one, as far as I'm aware, is that it's Sydney's reanimation. (Y'know, because of true necromancy being impossible, The Clocks, all that stuff)

In this, the ENTITIES then appear to be a list of the leading suspects for who caused the limn, with 1 being the top suspect and 13 the bottom. Golly gee I sure do wonder why Jedidiah is ENTITY1, then. I suuuuure do wonder.

The ANOMALIES are a little harder to figure out. They're the weird, mostly non-human, supernatural beings that appear. My personal theory is that ENTITIES existed pre-limn, and ANOMALIES existed post-limn, but of course we can never be sure. Until. You know. But also they're the ones I'm the least certain of, and I think the fandom as a whole is also... But we ball.

There's a few noteworthy parts of this, though. ENTITY0?? What the hell does that mean?? If it's a list of the top suspects, how and why the fuck is it in the negatives. Up and Adam is, you know, a demon, so I guess I can cut him some slack there, but I have a feeling this will be covered in season 2 so I won't speculate too hard on it. For now!!!!!! The other part I wanted to touch on is Matthew's placement. I don't really have anything other to say about it than What The Fuck Is He. Also something that will probably be explored later.

The SITES seem to just be pretty self-explanatory.

All of this to say... Who cares? Why do these 'agents' care about all this? Who even are these guys? So, within the episode descriptions, particularly within the "important notes" section, we get references to AGENT1, AGENT7, AGENT15, AGENT16, and AGENT23. The first reference to one of these guys is in episode 5:

In episode 8, AGENT15 and AGENT16 are referenced, as well as AGENT1. In this episode, Tony 1 and Tony 2 appear. Therefore, we know that they are AGENT15 and AGENT16. The ever-elusive AGENT1 remains ever-elusive.

The first and only reference to an AGENT7 is in the last episode (33/34). Evidently self-referential, and thus we can infer AGENT7 is the one writing the episode descriptions

However, the episodes aren't episodes. They're FILEs. They're named as such. FILE1, FILE2, and so on. They're written as one would an corporate file (there's even a line in the "descriptions" where AGENT7 says that AGENT23 should stop giving the FILEs such whimsical titles because they're serious and not a fairytale. Or something).

If I'm not mistaken, all we really know about AGENT7 and AGENT23 personality-wise is that "AGENT7 is really serious" and "AGENT23 is really silly" per one of the old season 2 fundraiser streams. This is reflective in... Well, I'll let you schmooze around in the descriptions yourself :] They're hilarious I pinky promise.

There also appears to be a hierarchy, which I personally think is, again, in number order (based off of context clues), with AGENT1 being the top of the food chain or being the boss or what have you, followed by AGENT7, then AGENT15 & 16 (Tony and Tony), followed by AGENT23. I assume there's other AGENTS that fill the gaps in between, too, based off of the FILE14 Important Notes section.

If you're curious also,,, the leading theory as far as I'm aware for who AGENT1 is is that they're Lucille. But that's a whoooooole other can of worms.

Naturally, this is all kind of to say someone is listening. You are listening. (The tape recorder clicks you hear are meta. The static and scratchy AM radio-type noise you hear at the start of episodes is meta. Think of all the implications. The ramifications. THE RAMMIES BRO!!!!! They're everywhere.) They're investigating the weirdness of camp, as far as I know, cataloguing the lives of the cast, particularly our two leads.

The biggest question from all this is why, to what end?

Anyway go forth and come to your own conclusions, your own answers, your own theories!!! If you wish. If you do not wish that is totally cool. If you do wish we can frolic in the fields together and in earnest stress pace a meeting room pouring over a comically untidy red string board or something

[the-s1lly-corner]

I’m feeling silly rn so can I pretty please get some Digital circus x reader headcanons with a reader that’s like a creepy clown doll that’s really anxious? (I’m in my creepy doll era🥺❗️❗️)

Various TADC characters x creepy clown doll!reader w/ anxiety

i kinda really want to bake something but i dont know what hmmm.... characters: ragatha, kinger, pomni, gangle notes: reader is gn, mostly platonic leaning for these CWs: none

RAGATHA

she offers to fix any of the tears you may have in your clothing, though shes a little confused that you want to keep them... you insist that they make you creepier, or at least as creepy as you can look in the digital circus

shes not all that put off by your appearance like some of the others, at least not for long- she manages to get over it fairly quickly in order to make you feel welcome

if you dont want to be perceived as creepy, though, shes more than willing to try to help where she can to make you look more approachable

but if you want to look creepy, or even look creepier... shes a little lost, but shes willing to give you a hand

she does her best to try to work with you through your anxiety, she tries to give you little pep talks and reassurances where she can

always lingering around to make sure you dont need anything, although sometimes she feels she may be overbearing because of it

KINGER

probably the most put off by your appearance, he needs the most time to get over it- hes noticeably a little more on edge around you too, but its not that he doesnt... like you...

your vibe just puts him on edge when hes not fully himself or there in the moment, time and being open is going to be your friend here

more inclined to approach you if you have bugs crawling around on you, its a good conversation opener! he can take them off your hands if you dont want spiders crawling all over you

it kind of turns into a little activity between the two of you, he picks through you and over time you guys get more and more comfortable around one another

i can see him being a little oblivious to some of your clown antics that border on the creepy side, sneaking around and causing mischief, a lot of it goes right over his head and he goes on with applauding you

he just wants to be supportive!

as you both get to know one another he learns of your struggles and you both kind of bond over that- if hes in a clearer head space he does his best to reassure you of anything thats been eating you up

he gets really good at picking up on how youre feeling, sometimes he notices before you realize you're starting to feel... not very well...

POMNI

also pretty put off by your appearance and general demeanor, probably just a little less on edge than kinger.. headcanon that pomni isnt all that into horror and this pops up with you

tries her best to act normal around you like she isnt a little put off

when she finds out youre not as bad as you look she feels bad, even worse when she realizes some of the distance and aloofness comes from your anxiety, she does her best to approach you and close the gap between the two of you

awkward at first... very awkward... but shes trying her best to make you feel welcome around her!

small talk that slowly spirals into longer conversations where you two are just bouncing off of each other, it doesnt feel all that forced anymore and you two like each others company

GANGLE

she can relate to your anxiety, sometimes the two of you hide away from everyone else and just... exist together, where its less overwhelming

gangle doesnt talk much about her problems much but that doesnt mean youre not allowed to, shes a good listener

shes an artist so obligatory she likes your theming and finds herself drawing stuff for you based off your style

tends to any ribbons you have in your clothing or on your body so they can.. not get undone..

you both are attached to the hip for the most part, one is hardly ever seen without the other

[fulgurbugs]

another doll post!

they cut me from work early, so i had time to stop by my walmart and see if catty was in. she was! i picked her up with some birthday money for 24.99.

forgot to get a pic of her in the box. here she is unboxed tho! she has saran with microbraids around her hairline (be careful, these come undone easily.)

initial thoughts: while her outfit is cute… it’s missing a littleeee bit of flair. some shoe paint, or maybe a jacket, like in her concept art? these little shoulder things are kind of horrendous. (and they kept coming unvelcroed under her pits.) might look into making her something.

now, there’s a reason i i got excited about catty when i was previously unenthused about her. and that’s her new body sculpt! let’s cut to the chase, that’s what we want to see.

here she is! she is now the biggest MH sculpt, by quite a significant amount. luckily she can still fit on this stand, but it has to grab her right at the underboob at her thinnest point.

it doesn’t photograph well, but she has a pink-tinged iridescence to her body, that could read like shiny fur. it looks great, and makes her look very glittery and dimensional.

wide and back views. i love that she actually has a bit of a tummy, and she also has a much thicker tail than toralei. (i wasn’t able to yank the tail out, tho i think it’s supposed to come off.)

here’s some comparisons with some of the other ghouls. she’s a medium height girl, and i’d say she’s slightly thicker in the body and thighs than abbey, though the way she’s proportioned give her a fatter body type compared to her.

it’s more evident when they’re turned to the side. draculaura only has larger thighs, so if we specially compare to abbey, you can see cattys even larger thighs and her stomach compared to abbeys flat one.

she has smaller feet (same as draculaura’s size.) her hands are also standard size.

back to the doll with her clothes on. here’s her boots, as is mh doll tradition

cool sculpt, definitely need paint. probably a pretty simple project to do, but all those buckles and chains are just begging for a layer of silver. only a teeeeny bit got silver paint, which i think is a shame. allegedly most of the budget for catty went into developing her sculpt, so her outfit definitely is a little lacking….

face card. i adore ADORE her makeup, the little stars…. the side glance… augh. my favorite part is her lip paint, though. the gradient looks absolutely lovely.

the accessories. since this is catty’s core doll, she comes with some of the core staples: her phone, a backpack, her pet cat amulette, and some sunglasses. in addition, she has a mic, a broken hand mirror, a water bottle, and some sheet music

here’s inside the backpack and her sheet music open. (the sheet music is literally just a little piece of paper lol.)

here’s her with some of her accessories! i decided to restyle her hair a little bit as well, i saw a cute restyle that took her micro braids and made a little side bang with them, and that was simple to replicate, so i did that too. i also made her ponytail higher, which i think looks a lot cuter. i think i wanna give her a little ponytail accessory or something tho… maybe in black? dunno. i also think she looks cute with her glasses on her forehead, so i’m leaving them.

obligatory .5 shot.

and that’s catty noir! (lagoona foot jumpscare). i think she’s a lovely addition to the g3 lineup, and i really, really can’t wait to see what they do with her in another line. her reception (at least in the spaces i lurk) has been so overwhelmingly positive that i think when we see her next, they can really go all out and give her a gorgeous outfit and a fun theme (maybe a skulltimate secrets doll?) it felt appropriate to put her with my monster fest girlies, so she got center stage (sorry cleo and frankie) thanks for reading this far!

[squeakyleftsneaker]

Watching Voltron for the 1st Time: S7 Ep 12-13

Somehow I am still watching, still present, still accounted for. Stumbling across this clusterfuck in the wild? Have a long explanation of how we got here, or if you prefer shorter explanations, I got recommended this by a middle schooler whose respect I very much NEED (so she takes me seriously when I tell her about science), and now I've gotten far enough along that I feel like I have sunk enough cost to NEED to finish it. I make a list of what I like and don't like and then ramble at the end of a run of a few episodes. I have now finished seven fucking seasons of this show. I'M ALMOST DONE FREE MEEEEEEEEEEEE.

Rare! A Good Decision!

Obligatory Shiro eyeliner appreciation comment

Veronica is so pretty and I am so gay

I'm really struggling here guys uhhhhhhhhhhhhh the artists draw earth very pretty our lil marble-y home looks lovely

I am happy Shiro gets to ruin Sendak. Will we explore the fact that he does it with an arm weapon that resembles Sendak? No. But the thought that it might have happened in a world where this show was actually developed with any time at all is nice

I actually really like the Shiro and Sendak fight. Very nice environmental use, very good stakes, solid motivation.

I am also very okay with Keith getting to murk Sendak. "As many times as it takes" and all that. [EDIT since apparently this seemed unclear. I am okay with this because I think Shiro as a character is shown as being very burdened by having been forced to kill BY Sendak. Shiro not having to kill Sendak, to me, in a better show, could be representative of the burden of having to kill being lifted from him at last. idk what to tell you man. That kind of story would speak to me as meaningful]

I have so little nice to say about robeasts but at least they remind me of the fun stuff in OG Voltron.

The new robeast is a great Haggar moment

Self sacrifice is a very poorly handled theme of this show fr but I can theoretically appreciate it

If I had any goodwill left in me for this show I would be like "What a great way to set up season 8 with the Altean in the robeast" but I don't so I will just say in a better show it'd be a good move but I have faith they'll bungle it.

Typical. A Bad Decision.

I cannot believe this fucking launch sequence has to be so long every time bro I can't take it anymore

The technobabble in this show bro I "Particle emission amplification" I can't do this anymore let's cross beams like in Ghostbusters I am PHYSICALLY tired as a result of this shit. The Death Star never explained to me how it worked with made up science words. The Death Star just murked a planet on camera and we comprehended the threat. SEE MY POINT VOLTRON????

In all honesty the second you have to explain battle strategy to your viewers mid-fight scene rather than just letting the fight play out you've failed to make it work.

STOP EXPLAINING EVERYTHING WITH YOUR FAKE MADE UP SCIENCE OMFG YOU DON'T NEED TO EXPLAIN YOU JUST NEED TO D O THINGS IK YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO THAT

This air fight really has so many moving parts that were just. Not adequately planned for and. Well. Usually I say the fights are a strength of this show. This certainly was not the case here. AND THIS IS A SEASON FINALE???

We've reached a point where not a single paladin feels like even their little trope selves.

I am OKAY with Keith killing Sendak because I think in a better show Shiro's original "I need Sendak dead" moment would've been a big thing for him (it makes sense. He lost his head back in season 1 and launched him into space. Having him NOT have to kill Sendak now after being forced to kill in the arena by Sendak? Okay!) but this moment is just robbed of ANY of that because. Well. WELL. THE SHOW NEVER EXPLORES ANY OF THAT. SO. YAY SENDAK DEAD IG BUT IT MEANS NOTHING NOW

I also think really missed opportunity to have that mean something in that we haven't seen Keith and Shiro really speak AT ALL since Shiro's mind controlled clone tried to murder Keith and Keith broke him free and then Keith had Shiro's dead consciousness transfered to the clone body like what even are they to each other now. Show has Keith say they're brothers, then they don't act like siblings or really ANYTHING??? And now I'm supposed to think Keith murking Sendak matters NOT COMPARED TO ANYTHING ELSE HE'S DONE AND CERTAINLY NOT TO THEIR RELATIONSHIP WHICH DOESN'T EXIST THIS SEASON

Everything in this show becomes a giant mecha inevitably and I think this is modestly lame and uncreative

For the record I predicted the Atlas becoming a giant mecha a few episodes ago and I still think it's kind of lame

The IDGAF Atlas truly does nothing for me I am NOT moved

Self sacrifice is a very poorly handled theme of this show and practically it pisses me off that the show does nothing to really drive home how significant it is. With the blades that die, with Keith pulling that move at Naxela, with Shiro, with the paladins now, it goes on. If you want to examine self sacrifice but you're unwilling to look at what it does to people, if you're unwilling to look at people's relationships and the love that DRIVES people to do that, then you shouldn't! There is no self sacrifice without someone to sacrifice yourself FOR.

Bro what is Axca doing here CAN WE NOT HAVE THAT POOR GIRLIE EXIST OUTSIDE OF THE CONTEXT OF SOME FUCKING MAN FIRST IT WAS LOTOR NOW IT'S KEITH ISTG SHE IS NOT A PERSON TO THESE WRITERS I AM SO MAD FR

I finished this season and I feel nothing at all! Wow! Here's the thing right. This show has a lot of potential tucked away in a soup of bad decisions and a supremely rushed development. I WANT to appreciate what could've been.

But that also feels like appreciating something that is entirely constructed. Yeah, if there'd been a lot of things going differently this show could've been good. If my mom had balls she'd be my dad, if you will. I can't appreciate what's not there. I just. Man! Plenty of things have pretty good concepts. If the actual execution isn't there behind it, there's nothing. Most sci fi has a fun concept. I mean come on, "What if some people got shot into space and there were ALIENS and GIANT ROBOTS" is really hard to make seem boring as an idea. So like. When I mention good ideas being in this show as the only positive that's like... just the fact that the genre conventions are FUN.

I get it man. I get that making a whole animated show in under three years is an impossible task. WHICH. BY THE WAY. IS WHY YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT! It's just. Unthinkable to me that anyone thought this was a good idea. When I am done with this show and therefore unafraid of spoilers/fandom interpretation leakage into my interpretation of the text, I am going to seek out interviews and explanations with showrunners because it is BAFFLING to me that anyone thought this timeline was a good idea.

I've said before that the story feels like it's just moving characters from A to B to C without much thought as to the journey. The meat on the bones. The depth to the story. And that kind of. HAPPENS with first drafts. It does! And you can see the first draft traces all over the show– characters suddenly changing in characterization with very little explanation (cough Lance and Allura and Keith) (Lance's characterization is all over the damn map! That's because they probably MEANT for him to have a pretty significant development as the audience's surrogate, but they just. Did not have time to write the in-betweens) (Allura just doesn't get nailed down at ALL and especially the second they throw Lotor in they forget about anything they had established about her) (And Keith is. Well. The fucking 180 they did on him to the point where he is now. Boring. Without showing us anything)

The plot itself has SO MANY significant moments happening offscreen, or in exposition dumps, or in flashbacks to things we didn't see! There's threads brought up and abandoned (the Blade of Marmora is being hunted down, the fact that Lotor made Voltron his representative to the Galra empire and that's never addressed, hell even Shiro's time as the arena champion!) that would also probably get worked out and refined WITH TIME.

There's also a really spectacular amount of gays that got buried this season. Which. Uh. Makes me a lil uncomfortable! Ezor and Zethrid our space lesbians, fucking Adam. Hell even Shiro himself if you really want to nitpick lmfao. No gay left unburied! There's characters that they just have no clue what to do with (Acxa) that are likely remnants of some plan that never came to fruition.

This show is underbaked! It didn't finish marinating before they threw it in the oven and it CERTAINLY didn't finish cooking in the oven. You can dress it up any which way you want, it doesn't WORK.

And that's a shame because there's a lot of talent on the show! I've spoken before about how great the performances are, how beautiful the art is, and when the writers have something substantial they've written, it's really really lovely (the Keith and Shiro fight and in general their development through the first six seasons is excellent and has subsequently just been lost in the season 7 shuffle) (I really loved Allura and the Balmera as well). But there's just SO MUCH that doesn't have any development.

It's a children's show (or at a minimum geared to middle/very early high schoolers) and they've got characters KILLING other characters and that's never explored! I don't understand how this came to be! Main characters killing other characters on screen in ANY work of fiction, even those for adults, is typically treated with gravity!

There is also how poorly this show handles race which..... I think is also something that would've benefitted from Further Marination Before Attempting To Finish It Off. All of the things I've mentioned about it in prior posts are not in and of themselves inherently problematic if they are handled with some sort of grace.

I do not think this draft of Voltron possessed much grace.

Ultimately the themes of this show just. Are lacking in every way. What is the point of this show? Self sacrifice? In some sense? But that's certainly not explored. To show us absolute power corrupts absolutely? It doesn't! Not in canon! Oppression and colonization are bad? Certainly not a narratively challenged idea in the text!

Ultimately I think the only thing this show successfully says is "Hey isn't space pretty? Isn't it fun to draw bigass robot lion spaceships? Isn't this fight cool?" Which. I think is kind of a shame because of how much the show brings up and either fails to address or just. Reinforces (again, the symbol of peace in this universe is a weapon)

None of the characters are friends, the few that have meaningful relationships are just kind of dropped or forgotten about, the characters don't feel like themselves. I feel like they're all just dolls being moved around. An empty husk of a figure so you can choose your favorite color and a toy they pilot and pretend YOU are your favorite trope, buy it now!

And maybe I was the real clown to hope for more than that when that's what this show was about all the way back in its first iteration, but I don't feel like it's my fault when the openings of this show promised so much, only to deliver on none of it.

ANYWAYYYYYYYYy uhhhhh idk I do have so many fucking thoughts as a result of this show so send me asks DM me do whatever if you wish to access more of them bc I feel like my brain is going to explode like there is so much about this show in it that is. Giving me great distress.

PS: I’m editing this to add that if you don’t get where I’m coming from with something, you can always ask! I’ll clarify, we can discuss it. But I really would appreciate if you come into it in, yknow, good faith given the fact that I am a person YOU DONT KNOW and assuming that you have a better picture of what I mean about something than I do is kinda unfair to me.

[rederthere]

mouthwashing headcanons to get off my chest before i go feral (pt 1??)

here's my own spin on the cast's full names:

Saul Swansea. rolls off the tongue right, and im a sucker for alliteration names. i think it totally fits his gruff and grouchy vibes - also yes, we can make the obligatory "better call saul" jokes

Charles "Curly" Collins: yet another alliteration name, and i figured curly was just a nickname he went by in the game. ironically, charles is a german name that means, "free man" :)

Anya Meyers: apparently anya is a commonly derived russian name that means "grace" or "gracious." i chose meyers, because some variations of the surname can translate to "doctor", since it traces back to the latin word, "medicus."

Daisuke Mitsuda: daisuke is a japanese name that means "big, assist." naturally i wanted his last name to tie into that theme, and mitsuda means, "light, radiance." so, his full name basically translates to, "big light" which fits into him being the sunshiney character of the group...

Jimmy Shitstain Campbell: put the least effort and thot into this dude's name, cos i seriously dont gaf. i thot it'd be fitting to give him the most generic american surname, especially related to the famous campbell brand. afterall, campbell soups are cheap, mediocore, and unhealthy - just like jimbone!!!!

daisuke was 20 years old, who's been on a prolonged gap year. he originally went to college for engineering, but quickly learned how much he hated going to school. his last minute gap year decision caused some tension between him and his parents, which was why they decided to send him on the internship.

swansea is 61 years old, and has been working at the polle express for the past three decades. he's always been a blue collar guy, hopping around ships to be the mechanic. before he got stuck at his job, i think he wanted to be a pilot. not even a pilot for space, but a good old fashioned airplane pilot for earth.

anya was 28 years old, who was the youngest of three and had a sick father. her mother was overworked, and barely held everything together to support her husband and children - anya became something of an emotional support daughter for her family. despite the fact her siblings left home to find a better life, she couldn't bear to leave her parents - but due to financial stress and health concerns surrounding her father, that's why anya failed her nursing exam multiple times

additionally, due to her basically parenting her parents, she always sent her money to them. i think this is why she had no savings in the game - she wanted to take care of her family, but ended up neglecting herself

curly is 36 years old, jimmy is 39 years. they became friends through piloting school, and jimmy just latched onto curly the moment he realized how popular and well liked curly was with other people.

[greenplantlizard]

fourze 1-4!!!

intruiging opening we got there

oh my god he's a dumbass :D

like,,, everyone everyone???

damn that's a lot of potential friends, respect

kengo wants to be a secondary rider so bad, sadly there isn't even a primary rider yet and also he's Sick™

very normal high school

gal who has only seen megaman starforce seeing a henshin hero story set in a school with constellation themed monster made by fusing people with some kind of space thing: getting a lot of megaman starforce vibes from this

oh to be driving a lil mech on wheels,,,

absolutely nothing is up with the principal i can just sense it that guy is Definitely Normal >;)

i love it when the heroes start with absolutely no idea what any of their shit does

obligatory UCHUUUUU KITAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

lmao welcome to the moon i guess

we love trauma

this goth(?) girl seems cool

get blasted all the way to space lol

the setting being locked around a high school really makes you notice every time something blows up huh

gentaro starting his friends from the top i see

the queen competition seems fine and normal and definitely won't affect these kids at all

the space centre with nasa-like acronym just makes me think of megaman battle network/starforce again im afraid my brain is rotting in too many different directions

chameleon based smear campaign

slightly obsessed with the idea of someone who wants to be school queen but hates it when people devote themselves to her

props to shun's actor, that is a very Shakeable Guy™

can't have a club without members, kengo

i see i see so this is gonna be the culmination of how good the supporting casts have been getting in the last couple rider shows huh

welp im having fun, onwards!!! :D

[wordarttmn]

Omori observations 10

Artics

Found a guy who knows Hero!!

Things hero is meant to be:

Caregiver (hot diggity dog)

Protector (mountain)

Saint (goosey)

Now i want to go to the pinwheel platform

And follow those red footprints for good

Ortès

Poems in the fog is a weird track. It feels like it is building up to something that never happens, constantly going back to the beginning (like headspace i guess), and it has an irregular, hesitant rhythm, sometimes going adding extra beats for no reason. It feels like it has some urgency to it, a weird urgency that slows down randomly.

The place had some urgency  the first time i saw it (in trevor’s treefort playthrough)

But it is a weird place. It has the most important letter in the hangman, the one that allows a player to guess the message as early as the prologue if found, but that isn’t obligatory in the plot and might be missed until the very end. And it has kind of nothing else?

Spaghetti which aren’t that important as an item, completely normal bunnies, a mari picnic and a boss i won’t fight today, and that’s about it. This isn’t a lot! It’s pretty small too, especially compared to orange oasis… it doesn’t even have different trees from the main forest!

Red footprints are gone.

Pujòu

What is going on?

Got a daisy from daisy. Daisies are one of the eight flowers that are relevant in this story, and they’re the one whose fan interpretation diverge the most as no canon meaning is given. However it’s also a pretty good item and i will equip it on omori asap.

Or maybe Kel.

Dude your sister is about to rope Aubrey into hitting you repeatedly with a baseball bat.

Come on

I like how that’s the moment they pick to play cards

For as much as sunny probably doesn’t like to admit it, they are.

Time to go fight Space Boyfriend!

Well once i’ve switched trains of course. Seemingly i’ll have to wait over 20 minutes in Dacs

Dacs

Ok so first i find this interesting

it’s a first hint that their relationship was more than rocky.

Also, not only Kel is not following the conversation, but no one is paying attention to what he is doing at all.

Time to discuss my idea i guess

I think that although Headspace is avoiding touching on the elephant in the room, as a dream it will end up surfacing Sunny’s more palatable worries and anxieties. And this dream in particular seems to bring up a lot of elements of Sunny’s home life. A home life marked by divorce or breakup, moving (the cardboard boxes having the same text as the ones in Sunny’s actual home).

i’m not sure how much Spaceboy and Sweetheart are meant to be a 1:1 representation of Sunny’s parents (i don’t really think they are, if anything they might be switched gender-wise with Spaceboy being the one left behind). The space pirates staying behind doing chores has a parallel with Sunny doing the same for his mother.

And the junkyard is littered with objects that seem to come from Sunny’s memories. Just like the house may be.

i’ve drawin attention earlier to the fact that the scary stairs are not the real stairs, or at least not the modern ones. But because they’re also filled with boxes, they might have looked like that in real life as recently as a few months ago.

I admit it, Spaceboy being a representation of Sunny’s mom is something that i came up with right now in the train. Because i don’t believe she’s that well adjusted anymore. How could she be?

Of course that doesn’t excuse the leaving Sunny home with absolutely no food, but it could explain it.

Might be a galaxy brained idea but let me cook here.

Space Boyfriend’s Tape - I want Nothing More might not be sung by Sweetheart.

He changed hair color. He had his little transformation scene under his bedsheets. And the space pirates just ran away really fast.

He says, while clearly not in his NEUTRAL state

Morcencs

Trouble - NEVER/ALWAYS is probably the missing theme for what’s coming

Aubrey has absolutely no reason to intervene here as always. She still does it because she likes starting boss fights.

You Were Wrong. Go Back - alright: we’ve got the 3BL ostinato (minor key) mixed with a motif from Trouble, and together they make most of the prologue, before we switch to the Stardust Diving melody. Surprisingly, nothing from Lost, then Found.

i’m afraid Spaceboy will be a little too easy to beat

he’s already furious there’s no way i’ll get to use the special attack this time

Back to redhead.

This would have been much funnier if i had stabbed him.

Such A Time We Had Together is a track i find kind of underwhelming. It sounds like a very modified, almost wrong version of 3BL, too major to sound good.

Spaceboy’s ambivalent attitude towards the mixtape is also something that feels relevant wrt the main plot, but i’m not sure how.

Also the Earth is gone for good.

Yeah put a pin in that description

Aubrey should cry more so Spaceboy would give her more free stuff.

Wet pillow time:

Interesting

(also i know i’m being a completionist but i might have missed another letter hole earlier)

She plays Lost at a Sleepover kinda hesitantly

He plays GOLDENVENGEANCE without hesitation

He plays his piece, which doesn’t really have a name.

i’m under the impression that all of them had music lessons earlier. Well Aubrey is the only one for which this might not be canon.

Space pirate Amigo just fell asleep.

Time to go save. I won’t follow the footprints right away but still

Also it’s pretty clear Hero is not seeing what we are seeing.

Biganòs

Sunny’s oversleeping.

I plan to wake him up at some point!

[aeonvy]

pokemon haunting my brain again recently and also I found my old batfam pokemon hcs. I'm gonna re-do them all but for now? ...Okay so far the only one I really got settled is Tim's but let me get into it.

My current line-up for him is:

Eevee (later evolves either into Umbreon OR Jolteon) Galarian Yamask Talonflame

There's still 3 remaining spaces, I'll see what I'll do with them.

I think that Tim's first ever pokemon would have been an Eevee.

Perhaps a cliche choice, but I do have my reasoning for it. Eevee is a fairly rare pokemon, well tempered, and it's adaptability gives it a lot of value — therefore it wouldn't be a far shot to say that they'd be a common choice of pet for upper classes. Could be a good show of wealth in itself, even more if it's a shiny, so there's that. Said Eevee would be originally just a companion pokemon, not adept for fighting, but after a bit of Tim sneaking out I can definitely see it insisting on following along. Having Anticipation as a hidden ability would make it better at protecting it's stubborn 8 years old trainer, along with Run Away for, well, getting out quick. It's nature would most likely be Calm bc 1. Umbreon meta and 2. I think having a calm pokemon could match or be benefitting for Tim in general.

My current idea is that Eevee evolves to Umbreon by the time Tim becomes Robin, solidifying the bond they have together (as Umbreon is evolved with friendship).

Tim's second pokemon, also obtained during his childhood, would've been Yamask, specifically of the Galarian variety.

I specifically thought this one out because, well, Tim's parents are archeologists.

"A clay slab with cursed engravings took possession of a Yamask. The slab is said to be absorbing the Yamask’s dark power."

Pokemon Sword's Pokedex entry on Galarian Yamask.

Tim's parents come home from an excavation in Europe worn out and with some artifacts that they brought home for further study. Later that week, the shadows around the house appear a little darker, specially around his father's study, where one of the artifacts sat on his desk.

Ok, I'm not writing this all out in a storytelling manner, but you get where I'm going here. Tim's parents bring back an artifact fragment that turns out to be possessed by a Yamask. I think it'd be kinda funny if Tim's Eevee and the intruding pokemon were at odds with eachother, until they both become the Protection Squad for Eevee's trainer. Tim, on the other hand, only learns about Yamask way later, after the pokemon feels safe to show itself off to the human.

Yamask would never be able to evolve into Runerigus as it depends entirely on being around a certain location (Dusty Bowl in SWSH) in order to evolve. Since it's completely removed from it's natural habitat, accessing it wouldn't be possible.

The third pokemon I have in mind is Talonflame.

Now, this is the one I have least planning about. I don't even know if Tim initially bonds with it as a Fletchling or Fletchinder, nor whether they meet during his Robin days or during what happens in the Red Robin (2009) run.

If the meet happens when he's a Robin, I'd imagine it's a little before the Titans or Young Justice (do NOT ask me about continuity I'm still unsure of what team he joined first or which one is currently canon, I'm gonna go with YJ because atm I hella like it more) and Fletchling fits the bill more in this situation. Obligatory tiny bird pokemon for Robin, lol.

If it's the latter situation, then Fletchinder. I'd imagine it'd be pretty interesting to have it evolve into Talonflame by the end of the arc, kind of fitting the theme of Tim developing his own identity and all that (I'm NOT wording this symbology right but uhhhhhh *gestures vaguely to it all).

ANYWAY. There's still 3 spots to fill, so I'm gonna look into those next!

[shadowquill17]

20, 22, 46, and 67 for the writer question ask game! >:3

Hi Magpie, thank you so much! ❤️💕💖

20) Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Themes that come back a lot, mmmh... well, misunderstandings are my bread and butter, whether it's small ones in the middle of dialogue, or the premise of the whole fic. So maybe that one?

For the words and/or expressions that come back a lot, I honestly don't even WANT to look, because if I do I'll start noticing it all the time and it'll ruin my groove. 😅

And for the settings... well, the boys certainly do spend a lot of time at the office, so I feel like it's not MY fault if a lot of scenes I write end up taking place there. Add a bed in there (with its obligatory justification), and it's the perfect space. 😜

22) Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

Style: I feel like my style shifts depending on the story I'm telling, but that happens pretty naturally, so I don't think I would like to try and write an entire story in a style that didn't feel easy to me. After all that's the whole reason I write, to see the sort of writing I want to read come to life under my eyes! ✨

POV: I have no issue with any POV, I think anything can work if you MAKE it work. I personally wouldn't write fanfiction in 1st person POV anymore, because that's what I wrote when I started and so it feels a bit young to me? These days I mostly write fanfiction in 3rd person POV, but I've written some In the Flesh fics in 2nd person POV, and I still think it was the best fit for it.

Genre: I'd feel a little intimidated with some genres out there, since I’d need to work on familiarizing myself with them, but I'd be down to experiment if I felt inspired.

Tropes: I am a fervent supporter of the idea that you can make any trope work if you've got something to say. Bad tropes are bad when they're used on auto-pilot, because it was easy or convenient. But tropes used in a thoughtful way, to be built upon and deconstructed and explored in all the intricate details they imply? YES PLEASE.

46) How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

Already answered here!

67) Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

Ooooh that's a really good question, and quite relevant to me personally because I almost never write with prompts or challenges. 😅

I wish I could! But to be honest they just make me nervous. I don't like having a deadline, I don't like not being sure I haven't missed some secret rule, and most of all I struggle with fitting the story around elements that didn't come to me naturally.

Honestly I really admire people who can do it, and I have a lot of fun reading prompt-inspired or challenge-inspired fics? But for me, it's just more pressure to try and control what I'm writing instead of just following the flow and having fun, and honestly I put enough pressure on myself already.

I do love to be part of events and stuff, but then the most I'll do is try and assign a fic I already know I want to write or that is already mostly done to a prompt that happens to work for it, like I did for above all I want you to be warm, for example. Anything more elaborate, with required themes or words or settings, is not for me. 😬

Aaaaah that's it for my ramblings 😅 Thank you so much for asking Magpie, I hope this made sense! 🥰❤️💕

[depression-napping]

(Sorry this is much later than I expected to post!)

Ok everyone we did it, we went to Artnia and ate the Vincent pasta and it was beautiful

Full review of Artnia below the cut ❤️

For those curious, Artnia is an official Square Enix Cafe in the middle of Shinjuku that looks like an egg. It’s a bit quieter and smaller than the Square Enix Cafe in Akihabara.

Making a Reservation

You can make a reservation if you live in Japan and have a Square Enix account, but if you don’t, there may be a few spots available for walk ins. It’s recommended to go early, when they open at 11am, to make a walk in reservation. Also, try weekdays for better luck (we went on a Monday). We dropped in at around 12pm and there was space available at 5pm, so we took it right away. They also stop serving food after 7pm I believe, but you can still order drinks.

While it is helpful to know enough Japanese to comfortably make an order, the staff is helpful, friendly, and speak sufficient English. Lots of foreigners visit because it’s a Square Enix cafe, so Japanese isn’t necessarily required.

When you walk in, you can go to the register and tell them you do not have a reservation, but want to ask if they have any space available for that day. If they do they will give you a ticket for an available time and you can come back if it’s later in the day. You can reserve for up to 4 people but you may have better luck for 1 or 2 guests only.

Note that their primary clientele is local Japanese residents, so they do not have an English menu. If you need to, you can use Google Translate’s camera function to better understand what you’re ordering. Not all ingredients are listed, so take caution if you have special dietary needs.

The FFVII Rebirth Menu is time limited and split into 2 parts. The menu items with the yellow triangles say “prior period” and ended on 4/4, so you can’t order them anymore. The ones with the green triangles say “later period” and are available from 4/5 thru 5/10. Blue corners are available throughout the duration of the event (they’re notably Cloud/Sephiroth themed of course).

But what about the pasta

Ok so on to the important part! You already know what I ordered.

Here’s the menu item description:

ヴィンセントデュアルパスタ

二色のパスタでヴィンセントの持つ二面性を表現しました。スパイシーなアラビアータと濃厚なイカスミパスタをご堪能ください。

Vincent Dual Pasta

“A two-color pasta represents the dual faceted nature that Vincent has. Please enjoy* this spicy arrabbiata and rich** squid-ink pasta.”

(*ご堪能ください　go-tannou kudasai means “please enjoy” but it also means “please feel free to satisfy yourself/to have your fill of…” I’m just gonna let ya’ll fill in the blanks on that one 😘)

( ** 濃厚 noukou (rich in taste) can also be translated as passionate hahaha)

I need to talk about the Squid-ink pasta first. It can only be described as bougie AF. Squid ink is already kind of extra. But I think it had frickin saffron ??? And edible gold leaf on top???? And I am fairly certain that in addition to like, a tiny sprinkling of Parmesan (this is obligatory for any remotely Italian meal) there was like, tiny black caviar?????

Saffron?? Caviar??? Edible gold leaf????

If you ever wondered whether Vincent would spoil the heck out of you, the answer is yes. Yes, he would. Only the best with our man ❤️

Squid ink aside, the more standard arrabbiata was also nice. As a pescatarian, I was nervous it would have meat in it, as a lot of spaghetti dishes in Japan generally contain meat. Luckily it seemed to be vegetable-based, there was like a single zucchini or eggplant slice in there somewhere 😂 (Personally, I think a meat-free option suits him better. It’s like, slightly more compassionate than straight up bolognese or something).

Arrabbiata is made with tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, and dried chili. (He pretends to be a vampire so he can get free garlic, guys) It also means “angry” in Italian (or spiciness pushed to excess). This is Square Enix basically telling you they know he is the hottest FFVII character. He’s not just hot. He’s spicy.

Ok but. Was it actually spicy? No, thankfully. Except for wasabi, Japanese cooking tends to be on the milder side anyway—but it did come with some chili peppers as a garnish, in case you want the full experience, lol.

Speaking of garnishes, what is that green thing in the middle?

It’s rosemary.

WAIT LET ME GOOGLE SOMETHING REAL QUICK

…

Oh lord did the people coming up with this concept do their research:

“Rosemary is the symbol of remembrance, friendship and love and was thus used in wedding ceremonies.” (It also has historical links to the Virgin Mary.)

That’s not just a random herb. That’s the most important part. Like?????????????? Is anyone else ok????? I’m glad I didn’t look this up in the cafe or I would have started ugly crying.

The Bottom Line

So was it good? Actually, yes! Artnia is a higher-end themed cafe than most (a lot of them get a bad rap for having barely edible food while overly relying on the fan aspects to carry the cafe). As a themed item it was close to perfect. The thought and care that went into this particular menu was apparent. I really appreciated that.

Also, this was super affordable as a meal. The yen is ¥0.66 = $1 right now, so this was under $10 😭 Caviar, saffron, squid ink and gold leaf for under $10? Seriously what the heck.

(Bonus, here is a terrible photo of the only Vincent decoration I could find in the store haha. It was kind of holographic?? And attached to the bar counter so I had to squat down to take a photo with my very old phone camera. Still made my heart go dokidoki)

The other items on the special menu were also really good! Husband ordered the “Cloud Black Omelette Rice” and he said it was some of the best omuraisu he had in Japan so far. Granted we are not the biggest consumers of omuraisu, but that has to count for something. We also tried the Cait Sith Mog Box drink (REALLY good, if you like Black Sesame) and the Gold Saucer Protein Juice (highly doubt it had any protein but it was a refreshing orange juice based drink).

Plus, for every drink you order, you get a random free character coaster. Check my next post to see who I got ❤️

The special menu is ongoing until Friday, May 10! If a trip to Tokyo is in the cards for you, as an FFVII fan, I do recommend making a trip to Artnia ❤️

EDIT: I lied there is *one* Vincent figure on display and like two tiny pieces of merch (which I will post later, tumblr doesn’t like me rn)

[switch]

it’s that time of the year again, it’s

Switch’s List of Halloween Games

games on this list are all 10+ years old, mostly on the more obscure or niche side, and if they’re not outright horror games they have a tone or theme appropriate for the season. because of their age, many have not been re-released, but if you know what you're doing that won't stop you. obligatory disclaimer to check content warnings for all of these games if interested. screenshots distributed randomly as i didn't want this post to be any longer than it already is.

The Residents' Bad Day on the Midway (1995)

a rather free-form black comedy point-and-click game set in a creepy carnival. you can freely swap between any characters that show up onscreen, read their stream of consciousness, and get different endings (or die) with each of them. this game makes full use of the setting, storytelling format, and uniquely repulsive art style established in The Residents' Freak Show, but now with more game to actually play, including minor puzzle-solving, even if a lot of it is optional. the game runs on a relatively short timer, and is intended for multiple quick replays.

The Dark Eye (1995)

The Dark Eye comes from our old friends at Inscape (who also made Bad Day up there and the infamous Drowned God), and is best known for using grotesque-looking stop-motion clay figures for its cutscenes. it’s a point-and-click adventure game that plays through multiple nightmarish Edgar Allan Poe stories across a single framing plot. the game can be a bit obtuse mechanically to play, but is another strong pick if you want a more artistic, psychological, less cheesy tone (and paint thinner that destroys your bones) than some of these other games.

I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream (1995)

one of the best point-and-click adventure games out there from a narrative and character standpoint, and a fantastic adaptation and expansion of the original story. the psychodrama device is something i’m a big fan of and they make full use of it. actual mechanics or methods of getting certain endings can be rather obtuse, but if you're familiar with this genre it’s par for the course, and it's such a worthwhile and cathartic experience. very strong voice acting performances all around in a genre that tends to be associated with the opposite of that. either way, I consider this one a must-play game in the genre whether you've already read the original short story or not.

GARAGE: Bad Dream Adventure (1999/2021)

a Japanese point-and-click psychological horror adventure game with a storied history, formerly widely inaccessible until 2014. GARAGE has been re-released in English on modern platforms by its original developer, something i'm very grateful for, and with new endings. GARAGE has an art style like nothing else I've ever seen before or since, with 90's 3D graphics depicting claustrophobic industrial spaces and alien-looking biomechanical characters that can be deeply uncomfortable to even look at, while the game challenges you to look past that surface. it also features some resource management and a fishing minigame! fascinating, genuine, hard to swallow, and a very strong recommendation.

Sanitarium (1998)

another very strong entry in the point-and-click adventure game genre, and it’s an isometric one this time. its puzzle design in particular is well-regarded for the genre, and its absence of any kind of game-over/softlock system unlike its more punishing genre cousins, as it really does want you to experience its whole narrative (although, it can be prone to crashing or breaking progression. save often). each level is highly and uniquely themed, though the tone is consistently more surreal than horror. the overarching story is much more cohesive and heartfelt than the initial apparent premise and setting might make you suspect.

CarnEvil (1998)

a classic, darkly comedic on-rails Arcade light gun shooter. CarnEvil is just a blast to play, set in a variety of attractions in a demonic undead carnival, with responsive gun controls, an adaptive goring system, and highly memorable enemy variety and scripted set-pieces all absolutely full of personality, all backed by fantastic sound design. power ups are dubiously balanced and the difficulty, while not blatantly unfair, becomes roughly what you’d expect for a game made to eat quarters, but you’d be playing this on an emulator, so that’s only a factor for self-imposed challenges. comes built-in with a menu to disable or enable things like various gore settings or tone down the appearance of certain enemies to your preference level. whether you’ve played a lot of arcade shooters or want to give the genre a shot, you can’t go wrong with CarnEvil. never a dull moment in this game.

Illbleed (2001)

a campy, unconventional, third-person survival horror Dreamcast entry that's gained somewhat of a cult following, you may primarily know it as "that game with the demonic sonic the hedgehog boss in it." another game set in an evil theme park, with attractions based on horror movies, but all of which feature fun and surprising spins on their premises and mechanical shakeups suited to each level. the mall and woodpuppets are my personal favorites. multiple playable characters with their own strengths and weaknesses, and NG+. the game can have a bit of a steep learning curve and somewhat obtuse mechanics, and you'll certainly want to read a guidebook (lest you commit the mistake every youtuber who plays this game ever makes and miss the horror monitor entirely), but it's quite generous with providing funds to access items and upgrades once you're past that. the unique, meticulous gameplay style of managing your stats and sweeping for traps inbetween high-risk combat encounters has been both praised and criticized.

Harvester (1996)

it's Harvester. you might have heard of it. a shocking, gory, cheesy black comedy horror point-and-click adventure game. the game infamously utterly falls apart in both mechanically and narratively its final third, but there really just is nothing else out there like the first two-thirds of Harvester, and i think that alone makes it worth playing at least once if you have the stomach for it. i’m tempted to call it a classic, but i’m still not fully sure how to regard this game. Harvester is Harvester.

Shivers (1995)

a Myst-like that surpasses all other Myst-likes, if you ask me. Shivers added just enough QoL improvements and just enough tension to the formula to be enjoyable by both people who normally like Myst games and people who might normally not. features an auto-memory for puzzle hints and the possibility of death without ever being unfair. limited item management is the main thing still applying here. light use of FMV. the varied museum settings, rich use of colors and shadows, strong soundscapes, audio cues, and fun voice performance by the recurring narrator really makes the whole thing memorable. spooky in a fun way.

The 7th Guest (1993)

Myst's CD ROM drive selling cousin, you probably won't get more pure Halloween-y than with this game's theming, haunted mansion setting, and use of FMV. the game can be a bit incoherent at times, and it's a point-and-click adventure puzzle game with heavy emphasis on its relatively challenging puzzles, which is either a good or bad thing depending on what you want. features a very fun soundtrack and fun story.

(as an aside, i've also heard the VR remake is good. haven't played it myself, but its use of FMV actors in VR is certainly praise-worthy when Myst ended up dropping that particular ball.)

Phantasmagoria (1995)

while i've never personally been a fan of this one, Phantasmagoria was objectively a landmark entry in point-and-click adventure games, in horror games, in FMV games, and in Sierra On-Line's/Roberta Williams' whole catalog. in terms of its genre, it's actually on the approachable end in terms of puzzle difficulty! it's known for its extremely over-the-top gore and violence, but it takes itself more seriously than the likes of Harvester, or it at least tries to. if you're someone who can enjoy a messy, gross, gory horror movie, you might enjoy Phantasmagoria. i can certainly respect its use of practical effects...

even people who like this game don't tend to like Phantasmagoria 2, though.

The Path (2009)

a full-on walking simulator art game that tells an overarching Red Riding Hood-themed story with almost no dialogue. multiple characters and endings to go through, and lots of collectibles, some of which do things and some don't. if you just don't like walking sims it's unlikely this would do it for you, but if you're someone who does enjoy a good walking sim, this is a classic entry. the forest is a beautiful setting to explore and the soundtrack sells the uncomfortable and somber tone well.

American McGee's Alice + Alice Madness Returns (2000/2011)

action-adventure platformers. american mcgee's alice features fantastic setpieces and level design, responsive controls yet somewhat slippery platforming, an arsenal of highly unbalanced but fun weapons, good enemy variety, a fantastic soundtrack, and a high level of challenge. alice madness returns heavily tones down the challenge and former emphasis on weapons, enemy variety, and boss battles in exchange for highly responsive platforming, a rewarding collectible system, and a deeply cathartic story. they're both games i repeatedly come back to for their own reasons. i'd recommend getting the original version of AMA and not the 2011 re-release if you can help it, but it's not a dealbreaker.

The Colonel's Bequest (1989)

another Roberta Williams classic, it's a charming and detailed murder mystery graphic adventure game that has an emphasis on discovery and characters more than puzzles. the game is split across multiple acts with various characters on schedules, and is full of conversations to eavesdrop on, clues to find, and notebook entries to fill out, or not find. there's multiple endings and multiple ways to die, and you can complete the game even with varying levels of overall notebook completion. it’s a game designed for replays, and it’s still arguably one of the most well-made and most complete games of its kind out there. it's got a good sequel in 1992's Dagger of Amon Ra, which isn't on this list purely for not feeling very Halloweeny.

you can play this one in-browser through archive org! just look for the manual for both the game and the emulator to make sure everything runs smoothly and that you don't get walled by the copy protection...

Honorable Mentions:

Troubled Souls (1994, Classic Mac OS)

troubled souls is, admittedly, ‘just’ a little ol pipe-style puzzle game, no story here like the others. yknow, it’s like pipe mania. but, it’s a highly themed, creepy-looking pipe game. plus, it's got an absolutely killer BGM loop. if you’re ever gonna play any time-killing dedicated puzzle games this October, it may as well include some Troubled Souls.

Pathologic Classic HD (2005/2015)

It's Pathologic. you've almost certainly heard of it. i hesitantly dropped Patho down to honorable mention just because it's exploded so much in popularity these past couple years compared to the others on this list, but i'm recommending Classic HD specifically because i think a lot of people these days might only play 2, but i can't overstate what a wonderful and all-around complete package Classic is. it's a challenging survival game, but i don't find it the unwinnable, hyper-obtuse, archaic, anti-game it gets hyped as. the ebb and flow of its VN-influenced storytelling format and slower, meticulous, moment-to-moment gameplay that will then spike into being utterly frantic just often enough is highly engaging, as is its stat management. look, you can use a walkthrough/hint guide if you want to not get locked out of an ending, it's fine.

Shivers 2 (1997)

another game i'm personally not a fan of, but it's well-loved by the people who do like it. it's really Shivers in name only, but it preserves the improvements made to the Myst-like formula, so you can't go wrong if you enjoy a good Myst-like. i also can't deny that the game's rock music theme, desert setting, and overall presentation has its charm.

Dark Seed (1992)

another point-and-click puzzle adventure game, most noted for its H.R. giger designs, though its tone is ultimately less horror and more subdued and genre-conventional quirky than that initial selling point might have you think. the game runs on a persistent timer, and both the puzzles and click areas can be difficult to parse, making for a game that isn't interested in not being dated and induces tension more through frustration than through actually being horror, and it doesn't do much that any of its numerous genre cousins don't do better. still, an interesting if dated game that one can get a kick out of, at least once. there's not much i can say about this one that Majuular hasn't already explained better.

Dark Seed 2 (1995)

this will explain everything.

The 11th Hour (1995)

The 7th Guest's very bad, no good, utterly tonally inexplicable, terrible sequel. only worth playing if you want to see even more cheesy FMV, more mansion, or more Stauf.

Zombieville (1997, EU)

an overly-ambitious oddball point-and-click action-ish-adventure game that went through development hell. most notable for its system wherein characters (including yourself) can turn into zombies, using the rare 'return of the living dead'-style of intelligent zombies, and also for featuring Greg Proops in one of his only video game VA roles, ever. massive disclaimer that the game is extremely buggy, unpredictable, and unfinished in many areas, even if it is possible to reach its (thematically strange...) ending with a guide. an interesting time capsule of missed potential, but unlikely to be enjoyed in any capacity unless you have a very specific kind of technical or genre curiosity.