#in the remake though it’s so much more significant

[tswhiisftteedr]

Good Pup ☆ One Shot

☆Mean!Sciences Proffesor!Divus Crewel x College Freshman!Fem!Reader:

After seeing you excel in his class, Professor Crewel interest had peeked. You were not from this world, and your academic knowledge was far too different from what was taught here, too different for it to be considered fair for you to study such material at the college level, a lost cause, he thought at first. And yet, he couldn't help but feel proud as you quickly rose to become one of the top students in his class. One day after potionology you had forgotten your textbook behind, and being the great teacher that Divus Crewel is, he ought to give back to you. After looking around for a bit, then spotting in a hallway talking with your friends, he happens to overhear about your secret thoughts on him…

Based on this ask and poll.

Warnings: Mature Content, Swearing/Explicit Language, Spanking(of ass, thigh, and pussy, by hand and pointer), Choking(on dick lol), degrading names, pet play ig?(just names like pup, dog and mutt but not anything else in that area). READER IS A COLLEGE FRESHMAN AS NCR IS ONE IN THIS FIC SO THEY ARE AT LEAST 18, CREWEL IS CANONICALLY 32 SO KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE ENGAGING.

Note: This is sort of a remake of ‘Personal Training’ but instead of Professor Vargas, it’s our dear sadistic Divus Crewel. Like a different Au, so the encounter between reader and professor Vargas didn’t happen here. Also why are all the proffesror mean you may ask, well the answer is quite simple… I like to bullied by authority figures/people in charge and those fics self indulgence 🤪✌️. Also for future request, if not precise what type of behaviour you want for the love interest, i will default to writing mean!dom!character or pervy!dom!character cuz that’s i like lol.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Ever since starting classes at NCR Wonderland, you felt off about begin your academic journey as a college Freshman. Sure you were the right age for it, but wasn’t it a bit to much of an ask to start with college courses, especially with most of the mediums being different from your world? But at last you had no choice but sucking it up, working harder than any other student in your year to keep up. Though you did enjoy some of the classes, just because they had familiar concept. Magic analysis was like any other analysis class you had taken before the topic was just different, you also had music which was the same as back home, and of course there was Potionology…

That class was your beacon of hope each week. You genuinely enjoyed it, not only because it resembled chemistry, making the 'laboratory process' easier to grasp, but it was also the only class where you could actually use magic! The mixtures you created could do things you could only dream of in your world. Moreover, making such complex and potent elixirs made you feel useful. You felt competent with this world's materials because of it, even if Crowley didn't find a way for you to return home, you possibly could get around. Of course, there was another tiny reason why you loved the class so much, actually it was a pretty significant one. Even in your own thoughts, you couldn't deny that you were practically drooling at your professor each time you entered his classroom.

But how could you resist? That man was incredibly hot, smoking even. And his voice, god! It was undeniably sexy. Plus, the way he addressed you was so appealing: Generally, he would call you a 'pup', 'good girl' or 'good dog' when you did something right or answered a question correctly. He'd say 'bad dog' or 'bad girl' if you made a mistake.

He would also refer to himself as your trainer, at some point asking of you and Grim to address him as "O Great Crewel" or "Master/Master Crewel" instead of "Professor Crewel", as a form of discipline.

And fuck was that hot, honestly that was the primary reason you worked so diligently in his class. Hearing his praise and being able to call him "Master" only served to fuel your fantasies.

You wondered how he could discipline you in a more 'physical' way. Would he use his pointer or his hands on your thighs and ass when spanking you? Would he continue to use the usual nicknames, or would he resort to degrading names like 'slut', 'whore', ‘needy bitch in heady’ or perhaps 'greedy pup'? The curiosity from it was driving you mad, to the point where you even considered pulling your panties to the side and touch yourself at the sound of his voice, as taught class unbeknownst to it all.

Naturally, you wouldn't actually do it. After all, even if your noises didn't give you away, the smell certainly would. (You were certain the beastman in your class would detect something like that.) However, there was a certain allure in to the scenario.

Perhaps a classmate would inform your professor, leading to a public reprimand. You picture your professor criticizing your behavior while you stand in an embarrassing position for all to see. Your skirt would lifted and he would be abusing your behind, probably edge you during the spend of the whole lesson. Then right before the bell rang, he would touch your sweet spot one last time, and right around his fingers you would squir-

Oh, right, the bell. Class had just ended. You snapped back to reality and turn to your friends. From their expressions, it's clear they've been trying to get your attention for a while.

Hastily gathering your things, stuff them into your backpack, and follow your friends out of the classroom. Unbeknownst to you, the potionology textbook you need for tonight's homework is left behind on your desk.

You soon reach the hallway where you and your friends usually sat at a break. It's lunchtime, and as per your routine, you start your daily rant about your professor to Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek. Grim is also there, but as always, he is so focused on his food that he isn't paying attention.

Meanwhile, Divus was getting ready to head to the teachers' lounge to enjoy his lunch when he noticed the Potionology textbook on your desk.

Even if he didn't know where you sat during class time, he could tell that it belonged to you by the fact that it had small pawprint stickers surrounding your name on the book’s bridge. The memory of you telling him that customizing the book that way was the best resurfaced. After all you were a "good pup, so why not add the paw prints to match the statement.”, you had told him when he inquired about the decorations.

That comment made him chuckle, which brought a bright grin to your face. While it's true that he would refer to his students by such names, at no point in his career did a student use the term to address themselves. To be honest, he finds it cute that you adore the name that most of your peers detested. You simply smile and giggle anytime he uses it to compliment you, and you pout like a real puppy when he corrects you. ‘Truly adorable.’

He actually liked you. Regardless of how your entourage behaved, you were an excellent student who did not cause any problems. You paid attention in class and worked really hard to achieve the highest grades not only in his class but in others, but it appeared to him that you were more interested in the course that he taught compared to the rest. In non-magical courses, you received an average of 70-80, and your sciences marks were in the 90s, slightly higher grades.

Divus also liked how, despite the restricted male uniform, you had altered the uniform to be more fashionable with the consent of the headmaster. Instead of the dull pants that came with it, you wore a skirt that was little longer than mid-thigh but did not reach the knee. It was elegantly embroidered with a swirly thorn pattern, and you wore stockings to match it. A work of art in the man's eyes, which made you even more favourable to him; he adored when someone had a true sense of fashion.

Despite your puppy-like demeanour when he spoke to you, there was a gleam in your eyes, a lustful one at that. You looked at him as if you wanted him to bend you over your desk that very instant, practically eye fucking him throughout the lecture. You may not realize that he noticed, but as a desirable man, he was highly aware of such things. He observed as you unconsciously rub your thighs together, while he chewed you up for a small error; he 'was expecting better from such a bright girl like yourself, this was extremely disappointing'.

Even though he kept it to himself, attempting to maintain professionalism, him still being your teacher and all. Maybe you weren't as horny as he believed, just slightly flustered by the charming way he addressed you, especially coming from a handsome man like himself. However, no matter how sweet you were, you couldn't fulfill his desires. He craved someone he could dominate and control, someone who to basically bully into submission. You were far too innocent and gentle for that. He assumed that if you did have any sexual thoughts about him, your fantasies would be quite vanilla in nature.

‘And oh, boy, was he wrong!’ That was his thoughts when he overheard the conversation between you and your friends, having finally reach the hallway you usually frequented, your potionology textbook book in hand.

A bit earlier,

You and your friends had started eating and you were babbling;

“Okay, lisent, like hear me out-“ you begin,

“I am not hearing, YOU out. You’ve already said enough.” Sebek quickly retorts.

“Valid point, but, but think about it. Hot mean teacher disciplines you with a spanking while degrading you.” You suggest,

“NO!” Sebek tells you horrified.

"Come on, Sebek, don't be so ip tight. I may not be into that kinda of stuff, but Y/N has a point. I don't get the appeal, but Professor Crewel does fit her type.” Ace tells the distress crocodile.

“But he's a teacher, OUR teacher. I don't understand how people can have crushes on their teachers, but openly lusting for them should be prohibited! Also, not discussed like any other normal subject!” Sebek tells the card soldier.

“I agree with Sebek, you should keep such intimate thoughts to yourself.” Jack adds on,

“Ya say that but chur tail be waggin' like an exited puppy. It’s obvious ya like hearin' bout the naughty stuff from missy over there!” Epel comments.

“That’s not-“ Jack begins, but cuts himself off, like Epel said his tail was wagging crazy so he couldn’t deny anything. So “whatever!” was all he said, followed by a huff and a frustrated growl.

"Look, I'm not saying people should go out of their way to fuck their teachers; it's just that the man who potentially would fulfills all of my desires and fantasies happens to be my teacher. And, honestly, he must be aware that his nicknames and actions would turn some students.” You say to the group,

“What? How’s that?” Deuce questions.

“Come on, it's not like you can't go to NCR if you're into things like pet play or bdsm. He must have known that each year would have some students who fit that description. Don't tell me you thought he was completely clueless towards that?” You explain,

“Well when you put it like that, I guess Professor Crewel probably knows about it.” Deuce sorta agrees.

“He’s probably just ignoring it, pushing it to the back of his mind and pretending that it’s not real.” Ace comments,

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. But at the end of day, the fact that he’s aware doesn’t change much, I still won’t get him to bend me over his desk” you say with a dramatic sigh, making both Epel and Ace laugh.

“Honestly even if there was some stellar chance that he could be into me, he’s probably in a relationship already. If he isn't married, he is most likely casually dating someone.” You add on.

“Yeah, too bad for ya!” Epel says with a snicker.

Unknown to you and your friend group, the same professor you were discussing was right around the corner, listening in on you thirsting over him.

And truthfully this was a shock to him. Sure he might have found you attractive, but also he had convinced himself that you couldn’t fulfill his desires. Now turns out both of your fantasies aligned, and he was going to make good use of that knowledge.

Now heading towards your group the clacking sounds of Divus’s heels made all of you turn around. Some of their expression where terror, some confusion but Ace and Epel looked like they were holding in a laugh.

Clearing his voice, “Miss.L/n, just the person I was looking for. You had forgotten your potionology textbook in my class, so I went looking for youu in to hand it back, you wouldn’t want to miss tonight’s homework, now would you?” He told, as passed you the book.

“Oh, um, thanks professor Crewel!” You exclaimed a bit distraught, ‘did he hear what I’ve been saying or what?’

“Try again. You know that’s not the appropriate way to address me, now is it.” He states making you rethink your words,

“Right, sorry, Master Crewel...” You spoke out.

“That’s much better. Now come along pup.” He said as he turn around and started walking,

“What- why?” you ask confused. And he turns his head to gaze at you.

“Well isn’t it obvious, you and I got much to discuss. Do not question me anymore today, or any day for that matter. Stand up and follow me right now, otherwise you will suffer greater repercussions than I originally planned to make you endure.”

“Oh, okay.” You squeak out and grab your belongs, now trailing right behind your dear professor Crewel, ‘oh, right, O Great Crewel.’

You returned to your classroom, Divus locked the doors behind you. He had been sitting at his laptop for the past 10 minutes. You were sitting on a chair, on the opposite side of your desk.

"I have magi-mailed your other professors, they have cleared your itinerary for the afternoon. Lucky for us, today was the one I had spares in the afternoon as well." He informs you.

"But if this talk was going to take a while, I could have just come back after class," you say.

"No, I must have a chat with you right this instant.” Divus replies.

You only nod, turning to gaze out of the window to ease your nerves. Of course he noticed, so he turned his lamp desk on, it was bright, then magically closed all the blinds. He moved from his seat to your side of the desk, resting on it as he looked down at you.

“Now, let’s start this talk. Do you know why I brought you here?” He inquires.

“I’m sorry sir I don’t know.” Honestly you weren’t sure maybe he overheard you or maybe this was about something else.

“Not don’t play coy pup.” He told you sternly,

“Perhaps my grades sir…” you croak out, barely above a whisper.

“I guess you decide to persevere in your bad dog act, stand up.” He tells you, sounding exasperated.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself mutt!”

Without a word you did as you were, the suddenly felt a had push on your back, not protesting anymore you just expect your fate as you were now folded upon the wooden desk.

“Looks like your not completely hopeless, but that one time show of obedience won’t exempt you from your punishment.” He said, you felt a somewhat thin metallic object glide up your right leg, you guessed it was his pointer. “Spread” was all you heard before the words were followed by a swift whip of the pointer.

You were dazed by the feeling, not completely registering the given order. This seem to irritate Divus, as another strike came down, but this time you react right on impact, now having your legs nicely spread out. ‘Your head was slightly dizzy, was this going the way you thought it was?’

But before you could linger on that thought, you felt Divus's hands remove your panties from your hips, letting them drop to your ankles. Your ass and cunt were now exposed to him. You heard a little shuffling, then his soft breath was in your ear. "Listen, since I'm not going to say it twice. I overheard you being a little slut, talking to your friends about how much you want me to hurt you. So that's exactly what I'm going to do, I'm going to discipline you to never forget how to address me, to never talk so lewdly in front of another man, and to make you incapable of living a functional life without me in it. Now, if you understand, say, ‘Yes, sir.’”

“Yes!..sir��!”

"Good. Now I'm going to spank you, and you must count after each hit and thank me for it, you may only address me as Sir or Master, if anything other than what I've instructed comes out of your mouth or you mess up the count, we'll start over and add 10 more strikes for you to go over. Also, you aren’t to touch me unless instructed otherwise.”

By the time he reached strike 29, your bottom was a of deeper color than your regular skin tone, covered in marks and bruises. Your thighs were quivering from the constant impact of his hand on your sensitive areas. "Twenty-eight... Thank you, sir..." You panted heavily, biting down on your lower lip to suppress any further sounds of discomfort.

Crewel stopped suddenly, taking a moment to admire his work. He ran his fingers gently over your bruised ass cheeks, leaving trails of coolness where they brushed against your heated skin. "That’s wrong," he spoke out, a spank from his hand came down your ass this time. "You already said 28, this means we have to start over. But this time, we’re going up to 40."

You whimpered softly, your eyes widening in terror as you realized what this meant for your already sore ass. "N-No! Please, I apologize, sir! I'll count better!" Your pleas fell on deaf ears as Crewel resumed his merciless assault on your sensitive flesh. Each strike landed harder than before, leaving deep marks that would surely become bruises soon.

"One... Two... Three... Four..." Eventually, you reached number 40. The last blow sent waves of agony coursing through your entire body, and you let out a strangled cry. Tears trickled down your cheeks, streaming down your face as you struggled to catch your breath. "Thank you, sir..." You managed to choke out between heavy breaths.

After giving you a moment to recover, Crewel noticed the wetness between your legs and smirked cruelly. "You enjoyed that didn't you, filthy slut?" he growled, his voice lower than usual, almost seductive.

Grabbing hold of your waist and lifting you slightly before slapping your sensitive folds forcefully. The sudden contact caused a sharp gasp to escape your lips, followed by a moan of mixed pain and pleasure.

"What did you just say, mutt?" he demanded, his voice dripping with malice. "No, don't answer," he continued before continuing his barrage on your sensitive areas, alternating between your lips and clit, ensuring that you wouldn't forget this lesson anytime soon.

After several minutes of relentless punishment, he finally stop the smacking of your privates. Following it by cupping your dripping folds in his hand, rubbing them roughly, spreading your juices over your sensitive flesh.

Than bringing his fingers in view for you to see, sticky liquids all over them."You see how much you enjoy this, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and menacing.

Your body had shook after every blow, your moans had turned into sobs as you struggled to maintain composure. Through tears and gasps for air, you managed to choke out between breaths, "Y-Yes, sir... I love it!" your tone was desperate, pleading for more even though your body ached in pain. You couldn't deny the intense pleasure mixed with the agony.

“That’s it," he praised, his voice dripping with false approval. Reaching between your spread legs once more, he inserted one finger into your tight entrance, stretching you further than you could with your own. Despite the pain, a soft moan escaped your lips involuntarily.

"Now, beg me to cum, you needy bitch in heat," he commanded gruffly, his tone harsh yet somehow erotic. Your mind was a mess of conflicting emotions; part of you begged for release, while another part of you wanted to defy him and deny him what he sought.

You forced yourself to focus on the burning sensation of his finger probing deeper into your sensitive core, trying hard not to move or squirm too Your your body ached everywhere from the brutal punishment you had endured thus far. "P-Please... sir... I need you to..." your voice trailed off as he thrust another finger inside you, stretching your even further.

"More, please!" you managed to croak out between gasps for air. Your hips involuntarily bucked against him, seeking more contact, more stimulation. Despite the pain, the combination of humiliation and arousal was becoming too much for you to handle.

Crewel chuckled darkly, enjoying the sight of you squirming and begging for more. Slowly, he began to move his fingers in and out of your tight entrance, teasing your sensitive spots with precise strokes. "Good," he praised again, his voice laced with malice. "Now, beg me for your orgasm properly."

Ultimately, survival instinct kicked in, and you forced out a broken plea, "Please, sir... I need to cum... Please..." your voice cracked on the last word, betraying both your desperation and submission.

His pace picked up slightly, thrusting faster and harder into your tight passageway. Your moans turned into high-pitched cries of pleasure as you neared the edge of ecstasy. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he stopped abruptly, leaving you hanging on the brink of orgasm.

"Not yet, don’t tell me you thought you would get what you want that easily, did you?" he growled, his voice cold and commanding. "You haven't earned it yet." With a final taunt, he pulled out both fingers, leaving your dripping. "Clean yourself up, mutt," he ordered harshly, before turning away from your exposed body.

You were a mess, your body trembling in pre-orgasmic bliss and frustration. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you begged him through sobs, "P-Please, sir... I'll do anything... Just let me cum!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Divus turned back to you, grabbing you by your hair and making you drop to your knees in front of him. Reaching down, he unfastened his pants and slid them down, revealing his massive cock, hard and throbbing with desire through his boxer. It flapped against his stomach as pulled his garment down, it was veined and pulsing with need. "Much better," he said coldly. "Now, show me how much you want it."

Swallowing thickly, you raised your head and tentatively wrapped your lips around the tip of his member, taking as much of it into your mouth as you could without gagging. Your tongue flicked out, tracing the head of his cock, seeking more sensation. You began to suck greedily, your throat stretching around his thickness.

Divus groaned, his hands grasping your hair tightly as he began to thrust his hips forward, forcing more of his cock into your willing mouth. Your gagging and choking sounds only fueled his desire further. "That's a good mutt," he praised between heavy breaths. "You take my cock so well, you filthy dog."

You struggled to breathe as he continued his brutal assault on your throat, your eyes watering from the burn in your nose and throat. Despite the pain, you relish the feeling of being completely owned by him, your body becoming nothing more than a vessel for his pleasure. You moaned around his cock, hardly able to form coherent words between the constant thrusts.

As he continued to pound into your throat, your body shook with each powerful thrust. your hands reached up, grasping at his thighs for support as you struggled to keep him in your mouth. The combination of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, causing your mind to spiral into a hazy fog of desire.

Eventually, Divus slowed down, pulling out just enough for you to catch a brief moment of air before plunging back in deeper than before. "Are you ready for your reward, whore?" he growled, his voice low and menacing yet laced with promise.

Without waiting for a response, he unloaded his seed into your waiting mouth, filling it to the brim with hot, sticky semen. You gagged violently, struggling to swallow every drop, your eyes watering from the intensity of the sensation.

He held your head in place until his orgasm subsided, then pulled out, leaving your filled with his essence.

Your vision spun as you coughed and gagged, your body still trembling from the intense asphyxiation. Slowly, you felt your body being raised, finding yourself laying on Divus's desk, your legs folded and spread wide open, exposing your wet and swollen folds to his hungry mouth. Before you good connect 1 and 2 together, he was already between your legs, his tongue darting out to trace along your dripping entrance.

"Oh sevens..." you whimpered, arching your hips upwards, begging for more contact. Pulling away slightly, he teased your sensitive flesh with light touches before finally plunging his tongue deep inside your core, sucking and lapping at your juices voraciously. His fingers found your clit, pinching and rubbing it harshly, eliciting another moan of pleasure mixed with pain.

Your body trembled on the verge of orgasm once more, as he continued to torture your sensitive spots. Your nails scratched at the desk to avoid grabbing his head, you were sure you would get reprimanded for it, the wood was left with white lines shaky lines on it. "P-Please, sir... I need you to—!" you managed to choke out between gasps for air before you was cut off by a powerful moan.

Divus pulled away from your dripping folds, his face covered in your juices. "Mhm is that so," he growled, his voice dark and menacing. "Sadly for you, I don’t feel like letting you climax quite yet, you greedy pup." He teased.

Your body shook with frustration and need, your entire being aching for release. "P-Please... sir..." you begged pathetically, your voice barely more than a whimper. Hips bucking upwards, seeking more contact, more stimulation.

For what felt like a millennium, he continued to tease your sensitive spots, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy only to pull away just when you thought you could bear no more. Sweat trickled down your back, staining the cool surface of his desk beneath you.

Finally, feeling that it was enough, Divus thrust two fingers back inside your dripping entrance, simultaneously rubbing your swollen clit with his thumb. “Now cum.”

The combination of sensations was too much for you to handle, and you cried out in pure bliss as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure washed over your. Your pussy contracted tightly around his fingers, cumming so hard to be able to see stars.

Smiling down at you, he gave your cunt a small peck. Crewel smirked cruelly yet something sweet behind his eyes. "Seems like you’re beginning to learn your place well, pup," he said before moving closer again, his lips brushing against yours roughly. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, claiming ownership over your mouth once more, as well as your mind. He tongues wrestled violently, your saliva mixing together in a sickening dance, tasting each other on the other’s tongue.

After breaking the kiss, he stood up straight, looking down at you battered form with satisfaction. "Now, go home and get yourself cleaned up. We're finished for today." With that command, he help her up and walk her out of the school building, trying to avoid anything prying eyes. At her professor was kind enough to accompany her out, but she was on her when it came to walking home.

“See you on Saturday in my classroom, Miss. Y/n” was all he said as he turned and left for school once more. Leaving you alone to recover from the brutal punishment she had endured.

You only replied by a weak “See you sir”, but only when arrive at your door front did it click ‘Wait we don’t have class on the weekends, does that mean—‘

Thanks anon for requesting!

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Reblogs help!!! (Request Are Open)

[6lostgirl6]

Miss.coffin sorry I’m new here and sorry about my bad text. I’ve been made fun of in the past because of it I’m mentally disabled to an extent and I have a shy personality. I’ll get straight to the point, my favorite horror film is my bloody valentine 3d next to it is the 2009 f13 movie. There’s a huge debate I seen when it comes to the movie is it a split personality? Is Harry possessing Tom Hanniger? Personally I believe he’s possessed, but that’s just my belief. believe whatever you wanna believe. I always had the unpopular opinion the remake is better than the original. Anyway, I’ll get to my request. Can you do a 2009 Harry warden sfw or sfw Alphabet relating to my favorite character/miner? Thank you so much for your time miss.coffin.  I’m just glad some people are doing 2009 Harry warden because he’s better than his 1981 counterpart. Sorry I didn’t saying anything sooner. I didn’t know if you were open at the time like I know you are now and my shy personality sometimes gets in the way of things. just thank you miss.coffin.

SFW Alphabet - Harry Warden

TW: Slight Yandere Behavior, DID Terms, Mentions of killing, Possessive Behavior, My Bloody Valentine 2009 Spoilers,

A/N: Hello, my dear! You were just in time to send in a request! Personally, I believe it was a split personality, but that is a very good theory that Tom is actually possessed by Harry, I can see that! I went ahead and did SFW and I hope that's okay! I agree, I like the remake a lot better than the original! Thank you for this lovely request! I hope you enjoy! ❤️ Reblogs are appreciated!!

Affection: [How affectionate are they? How do they show affection? Do they enjoy PDA?]

Harry is more reserved than his counterpart, Tom, and it would take a while before he would show affection towards you. Once he knows you don't mean harm towards Tom, he'll be more open towards you. Silent and gentle strokes against your cheek with his gloved knuckles, ruffling your hair, and firm grips on your hand. He's more possessive than Tom, so he isn't against PDA.

Beauty: [What is their favorite part of their partner. Body part, trait, anything?]

His favorite part about his partner, is their personality. He tends to like people that are kind and understanding and his partner being sweet like Valentine's candy is perfect. His favorite body part of his partner is their eyes.

Comfort: [How do they comfort their partner? Ex. after a panic attack or bad dream?]

Harry is a very protective alter and your needs and safety are very important to him. He's not great with words but he will hold you close if you allow him, soothing you in some capacity. If someone would hurt you though, they would meet an ultimate demise.

Devoted: [How devoted are they in a relationship?]

Harry would be very devoted in a relationship, he's not a people person and very withdrawn. He only fronts when he is comfortable with the person or killing. You would literally be the only one for him.

Ending: [If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?]

The only reason he would break up with you would be if it were to protect you in some way and only for a short term until the problem was resolved or if you upset Tom extremely. At that rate, he would just kill you.

Future: [What is their ideal future with an s/o? Marriage? How would they be domesticly?]

He's inexperienced with domestic affairs, but he would try with you. He could see himself marrying his significant other, and he would be a very devoted partner. Tom would have to teach him a few things of course, since Tom was in a relationship before.

Gentle: [How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?]

Harry is not a gentle person and he had to learn how to be careful with you. In the beginning, he was rougher, grabbing your hand tightly or pulling you around when he wanted you close. However, he would eventually learn that he's stronger and needs to mind his strength. He's emotions are very strong and he feels strongly.

Hugs: [Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?]

In the beginning, Harry wasn't too interested in hugging. Again, he needed to feel more comfortable with his partner first. Once he is, he loves receiving affection from his partner. He rarely initiates it, but he would never deny a hug from you.

Intune: [How intune are they with their s/o's emotions? Can they read their s/o well?]

Again, he's inexperienced with relationships and previously only had to worry about Tom's feelings before meeting you. At the same time, Harry is very observant and he will learn in no time. Soon, he'll practically be able to read your mind on a few occasions.

Jealous: [How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?]

As mentioned previously, he feels strongly and at times, they're not healthy. He can be very jealous and pissed off when someone openly flirts with his partner in front of him. He's reserved, not speaking when you two arrive home and you think it's over. Until you see the same person on the news after he was supposedly hanged on a flag pole in front of the whole town.

Kisses: [Good kisser? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?]

He is a very good kisser, but can be very sloppy. His kisses are deep and passionate, stealing your breath easily. He likes kissing your forehead and neck, he's a very possessive man. He secretly likes being kissed on his temple or cheekbone, it causes his heart to melt a little.

Love Language: [What is their love language? Gift giving? Quality time?]

His love language is gift giving and physical touch. He's not very expressive with words so he likes to make it up with affectionate touches and bringing you chocolates. Don't ask why the case was bloody, he won't answer.

Memories: [What are their favorite memories with their s/o or family?]

His favorite memory with his significant other is their first kiss together.

Nicknames: [What do they call their partner?]

His voice is more gruff compared to Tom's and his nicknames sound so sweet when they slip from his lips. He likes calling you sweetheart, and darling.

Open: [When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?]

Patience: [How easily angered are they?]

He can be easily angered and has less patience than Tom. He doesn't tolerate bullshit or things not going the way they are supposed to be.

Quality Time: [How would they spend time with a partner? What are dates like?]

Harry enjoys dates that don't involve being around other people. For example, he would feel more comfortable stargazing, or spend time with you at home. However, if you insist on going into town, he co-fronts with Tom to feel more at ease. Dates are very attentive, Harry enjoys alone time with you and learning more things about you.

Random Headcanon:

Harry enjoys the sound of your voice and would enjoy you reading to him when he needs to unwind. He finds comfort with your voice and eyes and feel the tension wash away.

Security: [How protective are they?]

Oh, he's very protective and will go to extreme lengths to secure your safety. Even if it's through the means of killing. For example, not only did Harry kill the people involved with the mines, but he also killed people that upset/harmed Tom. Both Tom and you are very important to him and he would do the same with you. Your life matters more than the idiotic people in town.

Tiny Ones: [How do they feel about kids? How would they act with kids?]

He doesn't exactly have an opinion on children, very indifferent towards them. Tom is more into having a family than he is, however if you wanted children, he wouldn't be opposed. Anything for you after all.

Upset: [How do they act after a fight? Would they be the first to apologize?]

He's a very stubborn man and would take a while before he can apologize, especially when it was his fault. He'll avoid you for a while, not really talking during this phase. Sometimes, Tom has to tell him to reel it in. Soon, Harry would feel guilty about what happened and seek you out.

Value: [How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?]

He may be inexperienced, but his relationship would be incredibly important to him. Nothing else could compare to how much you mean to him.

Whole: [Would they feel incomplete without you? What is their worst fear, what causes a hole in their heart?]

Absolutely, if something were to happen, Harry would be more reserved and withdrawn, unable to communicate with even Tom. The killings would get worse, much worse. He would be relentless since he's releasing his inner turmoil and anger towards his victims. His worst fear would be losing you, someone taking you away from him.

Xenos: [What is something about them that is strange? Something that most wouldn't like]

His killing habits lol!

Yank: [What do they do that makes their partner mad? That makes one wanna yank they ass?]

He would leave blood trails and footprints around the house after killing, setting his bloody pickaxe against the wall and staining the wallpaper. You've scolded him plenty of times but he always forgets.

ZzZ: [What are their sleeping habits? Do they snore? Is the schedule fucked up?]

When he fronts, his sleeping habits are different compared to Tom. He sleeps on his back and his snores are light. His face tends to scrunch like he's scowling and you've taken a picture of it before. He's not a deep sleeper and will feel you trying to move or get out of bed. He likes having you cuddling against his side with his arm wrapped around you. He tends to sleep later than Tom, since he walks out in the middle of the night for his killings.

Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked

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[awesomelynerdymama]

Thank y'all for the love on the short prologue for this! I appreciate the kind words and encouragement. Here is the first official chapter for the fic. I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Love is a Funny Thing

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OFC x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Triggers: Character significant other death, cancer, funeral, some grown up language, general awkwardness that arises when you're around someone you like and you're trying not to be obvious

Disclaimer: I own nothing Top Gun or Top Gun: Maverick related. I just borrow the characters for my own self indulgent purposes.

Chapter One

You rolled onto your back, hand searching the nightstand blindly for your phone to silence the all too chipper alarm. You lie on your back for just a moment to get your bearings before pushing yourself to a seated position on your side of the bed. Your side, because even after six months without Mike you still can't bring yourself to sleep in the middle of the bed.

One glance over your shoulder confirmed that the bedding on that side was still untouched. Ironic, considering during the entirety of your marriage the bed was never made because everyone used separate blankets. You like to cocoon at night and you can't do that while sharing blankets, but even that had changed and now you forced yourself to remake your side of the bed before walking around it to get to your bathroom. It's ridiculous that you take the time to make the walk every day, but Mike always insisted the guy sleeps closer to the door, so there you were taking the extra unneeded steps.

A glance in the mirror showed that the healthy look had started to return to your face as you gained back some of the stress weight loss that had made you look frail. Your body still showed the wear of five kids and multiple weight changes, but your face was looking younger than it had in years, thank you healing and a good skincare routine that you actually followed. A quick shower and you were on your way to the kitchen in your favorite robe. You never thought you'd be a robe girly, but with the traffic in and out of your house being unpredictable over the past couple of years, full coverage seemed the only safe bet or so you thought.

The lights and the coffee maker were switched on one after the other before you made your way to the bottom of the stairs and called, “Lily! Harper! Charlotte! Time to get up girls!”

After confirming sounds of life, you made your way back to the kitchen to start breakfast. The back door swung open and the kitchen became a whirlwind of noses and tails as your three dogs alerted you to a visitor. Nymphadora, your elderly mountain cur, ambled over to get ear scratches and kisses before taking a drink of water and collapsing on her bed. You followed her progress and noted, not for the first time, that her days were probably winding down. She had been Mike's dog through and through and your heart warmed at the thought of them being together again, though you knew you'd miss her like crazy.

Dobby, your French bulldog, and Charlie, your border collie mix, were definitely not puppies anymore, but were much more excited about your company than their sister was. Both were jumping on Bradley like it was the first time they'd met him and you chuckled softly at their enthusiasm.

Leaning one hip against the counter, coffee cup in hand, you took the time to observe Bradley in his NWUs. He looked like a walking Navy recruitment ad, though his hair was probably a touch out of regs on top and you found yourself blushing at the thoughts running through your mind at what you'd like to do to him in that uniform before being almost physically knocked over as guilt hammered you in the chest and you turned away to find something to busy yourself.

Luck didn't seem to be on your side, though, as Bradley came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and pulled you into him as he planted a sweet kiss on your cheek, “Good morning, Mama.”

You tried not to stiffen in his arms, but his timing was just the worst, so you patted his arms before gently pulling away to grab him a coffee mug and pouring him a cup. The familiar action gave you a moment to gather yourself and your cheery smile was back in place when you turned to hand it to him.

“Good morning, sunshine. You know you don't have to come over here every morning? I am capable of getting everyone ready and off to school by myself. I've done it for years,” you chided as Bradley took a sip from the cup before you took a sip of your own.

The moan that followed the first sip he took had your mind racing right back to the dirty place it had been previously and you mentally chastised yourself for having those thoughts so soon after losing Mike and for someone who was very much off-limits for multiple reasons. Then you brushed it off as just thoughts and moved back across the room to the bottom of the stairs to call up again, “Are y'all up?”

Two responding groans meant someone was still sleeping. You debated for a second on the best course of action before starting up the stairs and turning to your left, glancing quickly into the bathroom to ensure the girls were actually getting ready.

“Lily Claire, you need to get up, sweet girl,” you called softly as your middle children stirred in her bed. You padded across the room and rubbed her back as you pulled the covers down, “Come on, baby, you're going to be late if you don't get up. It's Friday, so you only have to make it through today and then tonight we're going to get the house ready for the squad to come over tomorrow.”

The last sentence had her bounding out of bed to the bathroom. You rolled your eyes at the switch, but at least she was awake. Walking back by the bathroom showed that the early risers were almost finished and that you needed to hurry up with breakfast.

Bradley was still in the same spot that you left him, though probably with significantly less coffee in his cup. His eyes found yours as soon as they came into view and he had a look in his eye that on anyone else you might have pegged as want, but that was ridiculous. Bradley was very happily in a relationship with your other best friend, Jake, and they were both also best friends with your late husband, so yeah definitely not want.

What you didn't know, though, was that while you were moving across the room and calling up the stairs he was watching your every move and taking you in like he always did. Between the two, Jake was the talker, which left Bradley the ability to be the observer and he loved observing you. Loved everything about you, actually, had for quite a while, so he was happy to note, like you had, that you were finally filling back out and looking healthier.

Your hair, which you hadn't bothered to do anything with after your shower fell in long dark waves down to the middle of your back and he knew that as it dried your glitter strands, as you liked to refer to them, would glint in the Coronado sun. He loved that you didn't dye your hair like most of the vast population of the area. Your hair was getting longer again too after you cut it short during Mike's illness. A necessity, you reasoned at the time, being more practical while your life revolved around medical appointments and kids’ school schedules. The well loved robe you had wrapped yourself in left little to the imagination and while you would argue that having five kids and fluctuating up and down in weight multiple times over the course of your life had ruined your body, Bradley would very much disagree if what he could see was any indication.

He heard the lack of a third response and knew you were headed upstairs. It was Lily. She wasn't a morning person even more than Jake wasn't a morning person and that was saying something. What he didn't expect, however, was for your robe to inch up ever so slightly as you rose, giving him just the briefest glimpse of what you were wearing under it, which wasn't much.

That was the reason Bradley was still standing exactly where you left him. He had been mentally replaying the sight of your floral, lacy underwear and the feminine curve of your ass. It was something he'd been trying to picture for a while. He knew what your underwear looked like, he'd helped you do laundry before, and he could probably map your ass with his eyes closed given all the time he'd spent staring at it, but the visual of the two together was almost more than he could take. He felt like a fucking teenager with a hard-on standing in your kitchen after seeing less than he could in a Victoria's Secret catalog.

He had switched to envisioning the least sexy things he could think of by the time you came back downstairs (Mav in a maid’s uniform, Mickey streaking down the road last time he got plowed, Cyclone doing pretty much anything), so he had things back under control by the time he met your eyes, but he couldn't help the heated gaze that met yours. He saw you stop short for a second and your expression turned quizzical, but you shook it off, obviously believing, like always, that he could never see you that way. If only you knew.

Thankfully, you were both saved from any awkward conversation by the back door opening again and Jake walking in looking decidedly less chipper than Bradley. You supposed Bradley's call sign was Rooster for a reason, though you had the suspicion that there were other reasons, and Jake's Hangman call sign had you wondering if it had one of the vowels wrong based on what you'd observed, and now you were right back in the gutter.

“I thought you were going to wake me up,” Jake grumbled at Bradley as he took the cup of coffee you offered, pulled you in with a hand on the waist, and lightly kissed your cheek, “Good Morning, darlin.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled away just as discreetly as you had with Bradley earlier. That's the thing you'd noticed about your gay friends, or in their case bisexual even though you'd never seen either with anyone else other than the other, they were very physically demonstrative, which you normally loved, but damn did it make things confusing with your hormones sometimes.

You did notice Bradley's eyes go to the ceiling as you squeezed past him in the suddenly cramped kitchen, but you must have bumped into him or stepped on his foot or something. He really was behaving strangely this morning, but you knew you'd never get an answer out of him, so you didn't even bother asking. You continued your path to the fridge to gather eggs, butter, bacon, and milk. The girls were getting eggs and bacon this morning because it was quick and you still needed to get ready. Reaching up in the pantry to grab a loaf of bread for toast, you heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, so you whipped around to find Jake staring a hole through you with wide eyes and Bradley, in turn, staring wide eyed at him.

“What is up with y'all today,” you questioned as you set your ingredients on the counter next to the stove, “you're both being weird. Are you getting sick? Do I need to force y'all to go to the infirmary?” You went between the two feeling foreheads, cheeks, and necks with a practiced mother's concern. Jake corraled your flying hands and kissed your knuckles.

“We're all good, sweetheart, just have a lot going on at work this week,” he reassured, gently ushering you back to what you had been doing.

You turned on the burner and started cracking eggs into a bowl and then had a thought, “Will everyone still be able to come over tomorrow?”

Busy weeks at work for them often meant working on the weekends to get things mission ready and you knew the girls would be disappointed if they had to reschedule, so your mind immediately sprang to ways to make it up to them.

Bradley finally spoke for the first time in a while, being quiet even for him today, “Absolutely. Everyone's looking forward to it. You know, we could host these things from time to time to take some of the stress off you. I mean we're right next door now and we share a backyard, so it's not like it'd be much of a change in venue.”

You shot him a glare, “Are you trying to take my hostess rights away from me, Bradshaw?”

His hands shot up in defense and he sputtered, “God, no, I just meant….”

Your laugh let him off the hook, “I know. I was just teasing. I like having everyone over. It makes things seem back to normal for a little bit. I want us to spend as much time with y'all as we can before you replace us with a new logistics family.”

The comment was made in jest, but the worry was a genuine one. Mike had been gone for more than six months and while military bureaucracy moved slowly, they were set to get their new logistician any day and nothing said that wouldn't replace them in every way with their Dagger Squad family. It was a weird relationship for the military. Logistics officers worked with entire units, not just individual squads, but for some reason these knuckleheads had wormed their way into your family's heart and vice versa. Losing them would almost be like losing Mike all over again. Both men silently enveloped you in a hug and you let a few tears slip out before wiping them away.

Jake hooked a finger under your chin to force you to raise your eyes to his, “That will never happen and I need you to know that. Y'all are special to the whole squad and nothing is going to change that, so get it out of your head.”

You smiled up at him and leaned into his palm that had migrated to the side of your face as he spoke before gently pulling his wrist away so you could get back to breakfast as your herd thundered down the stairs. The girls loved their Navy uncles and hugs were exchanged all around. Even though they all loved each other equally, Lily and Jake were especially close and so were Harper and Bradley. Charlotte, as the baby, had always been a mama's girl and that still rang true.

You were still working on breakfast, so Jake double checked backpacks and lunches, and Bradley made sure outfits passed muster along with hair and teeth. You were telling the truth earlier when you told Bradley you didn't need the morning help, but it sure was nice not to have to do it alone. Even though you knew you weren't quite ready to start dating again, you did wonder, in passing, how a new significant other would fit into your current family dynamic, but they'd have to find a way because under no circumstances were you severing relationships with any of the squad, these two especially.

Shortly after breakfast was finished and plates were put into the sink, the girls bus stopped at the end of the driveway and they were flying out the door excited to get through the day and help get ready for the get-together you were hosting the next night. You were just thankful that they were all finally getting to an age where they could help take care of your home instead of leaving it all up to you like things had been when they were younger and Mike was gone a lot for work.

Turning from the door, you are now alone with your two favorite pilots who both appear to be working on their second cups of coffee after finishing their own plates of breakfast. Jake turned to start loading the dishwasher and Bradley started pulling out containers to put away the leftovers.

“Y'all don't have to do that,” you said for the thousandth time and for the thousandth time, they responded, “You fed us and caffeinated us. The least we can do is clean up.”

“I actually appreciate that even more than usual because, actually, I have a job interview this morning. Well, job is a bit of a stretch. It's a volunteer position on post,” you blurted all this out rapid fire all of a sudden very unsure of how they'd handle the news. Even though it had no real bearings on their lives.

Both heads snapped up at the news and you braced yourself for the questions you knew were coming.

“A job on base? What made you decide that?”

“Why didn't you tell us earlier? Not that we don't think that's great.”

Okay, you weren't expecting all the questions from both of them simultaneously, but you've got this.

“Okay, from the top. Yes, on base. It's been six months since we lost Mike and even though the insurance money means I don't have to work, I'm sick of sitting around the house feeling sorry for myself and because this is a volunteer position I won't be getting paid anyway, but it could lead to a paid position in the future. I didn't tell you because I wasn't sure if it was a sure thing and then even when I knew it was, it seemed so insignificant compared to what you do that it seemed silly to even bring it up,” the blurting continued.

They both just stared for a moment, presumably digesting the blurting.

“Darlin, everything you do is important to us. We're family and of course, we're proud of you. That's a big step and maybe we'll get to see you a little bit during the day,” Jake soothed once he finally came out of his stupor.

Your eyes rolled again, “Yes, because two of the top pilots on the station are going to take the time to mix it up with ‘Navy Widow’ volunteer taking civilians around the base on tours and yes, I know the widow thing pisses you off, but I'd be lying if it i said it wasn't part of the reason they created the position for me.”

God, why couldn't you shut up?

Neither looked pleased with the additional information, but Bradley looked absolutely murderous. You hadn't considered that his mom had been in much the same position as you when he was young and you felt awful at blurting it out like that. His dad had died in a training accident, so not exactly the same, but his mom had died of cancer in his teens, so the parallels were there to draw to both.

Your feet must not have made any noise padding across the floor because he jumped at the feeling of your arms wrapping around his neck, his face quickly found the crook of your neck and his arms made their way around your waist as you pulled him in for a hug.

“I'm sorry. I didn't consider how any of this would make you feel. I'm a horrible friend. I love you and and I'm sorry,” the earnest, worried expression on your face almost had Bradley pulling you in for a kiss, but he fought it and just held you for a few more moments until he knew you'd start thinking it was weird. He let you pull back to arms length before reassuring you that he wasn't upset with you, just a little taken aback.

“Okay, well, I'm going to go get dressed for my interview,” you exclaimed while bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your excitement was adorable and both men relished the sight of you so happy after seeing you so sad for so long. They watched you practically skip down the hall before turning back to each other as they continued cleaning up from breakfast.

“You have got to get a grip on yourself,” Jake admonished.

Bradley scoffed, “Please, I'm completely in control.”

“Babe, there have been at least two times this morning alone that I thought you were going to kiss her or I was going to have to step in to prevent it,” Jake shot back, annoyed with his boyfriend’s flippant attitude.

Bradley groaned and let his head fall back against the cabinet behind him, “Okay, you're right. Staying away from her seems to be getting harder every day. Babe, I don't know how much longer I can do it. I mean, did you see her ass in those lacy panties? It took everything in me not to drop to my knees and bury my face in them!”

“Everything okay,” your question rang from down the hall and Bradley winced at how loud he had gotten as Jake shot him a look from his spot next to the dishwasher​.

“Yeah, everything's all good, darlin. We were just arguing about who's turn it was to do dishes at our place tonight,” Jake smoothly lied.

“With as many dishes as y'all have done for me, it's probably time I returned the favor,” you called back, “just for laughs I could even put on one of those ridiculous French maid outfits.”

Bradley's eyes widened and he pushed himself off the counter, but before he could make a move or say a word that would bring undue attention, Jake pulled him in for a kiss. Jake had meant it as a quick distraction, but all of the pent up sexual frustration of the morning poured out of Bradley as he backed Jake up against the counter and wrapped his hand around the back of Jake's neck. His other hand had just started stroking Jake through the front of his uniform pants when your quiet voice called back down the hall.

“Umm, would one of y'all mind helping me,” you asked, sounding a little embarrassed.

Jake pushed Bradley back slightly and cleared his throat, “Umm, yeah, I'll be right there.”

He turned back to Bradley before walking away, “You stay here. If you walk in there and she looks anything short of being on death's door, you're going to throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress before she can get a word out, so you just stay.”

Bradley's mouth opened to argue, but he thought better of it, snapped his mouth shut, and just nodded before attempting to adjust himself in his tight uniform pants.

Jake turned, tried to do much the same thing and started down the hall toward your bedroom trying very hard not to think about what he'd like to do in a room with you and a bed. The sight that met him when he pushed the door open did nothing to dispel those thoughts. You were standing at the foot of your bed in a navy colored, body skimming dress that was open at the back down to your waist revealing the bra that matched the aforementioned panties that were visible just at the waistline of your dress.

“Jake? Jake? Hangman,” you raised your voice on the last one to get his attention, “would you mind zipping me up? I've tried and I just can't manage it.

Jake cursed his tight pants again before stepping forward and grasping the small zipper in his large hand. His other hand held the fabric at the base of the zipper as his knuckles softly brushed the skin of your back as the zipper rose. As Jake reached the top of the zipper he could have sworn that he heard a small whimper escape your lips, but before he could be sure, you were turning to face him with a smile and a necklace in hand.

“Could you put this on too? It's hard to get the clasp when you can't see it,” you explained before turning again.

Jake gently placed the necklace around your neck and careful secured the ridiculously small clasp when, without thinking, he leaned forward and placed a kiss right where the clasp sat against your skin. This time he definitely saw a shiver run up your body and he cursed himself for not thinking as his pants began to tighten in the front once again.

You turned to look up at him with your big, brown, doe eyes and Jake scrambled to find something to say, “That's, uh, a pretty necklace. Where'd you get it?”

“It's a mother's necklace with all the kids' birthstones. Mike gave it to me for Mother's Day last year,” you responded looking down at the necklace fondly.

Dead best friend and husband, yep, that would do it. Jake was finally able to shake the fog that had settled over him when stepped into the room with you and now you were ushering him back or so you could finish getting ready.

Jake must have still looked a little shell shocked as he made it back to the kitchen because Bradley immediately asked him what was wrong and when Jake explained what happened, he found himself back in Bradley's arms with their mouths moving against one another.

They didn't hear you coming down the hall a few minutes later until you said, “Hey now, it is incredibly unfair for people as good looking as y'all to be doing that in a celibate person's house. Keep it up and you're going to start giving a girl needs.”

“Well, you're welcome to join in anytime you want, sweetheart,” Bradley offered with a chuckle.

“Oh, oh really,” you questioned softly, your whole demeanor changing as you made your way over to them, your hips swaying a little more than normal, drawing both men's attention.

You stopped barely an inch in front of the pair and slowly trailed your fingers up from their belt buckles and over their chests to wrap around the back of their necks as one hand from each man fell to your hips.

“You mean,” you whispered softly, as you pulled yourself up on your toes, bring your body flush with theirs, “all I have to do is ask and you'll both kiss me like that?”

You moved in toward Bradley, your eyes never leaving his lips as you felt Jake move behind you to effectively trap you between the two. Bradley's eyes were hooded and you could hear both of them breathing hard. That wasn't the only hard thing either. Not a surprise considering they had been going at it like teenagers just a few moments ago. Then, just as your lips were about to meet, you started giggling, which turned into a full on laugh.

“Oh man, y'all have gotten good,” you commended as you slipped from between them, “I've never lost chicken to y'all before. I must be losing my touch.”

You looked back at both men standing there stunned. You were confused. It was a game y'all had played all the time before Mike got sick. Hell Mike had been the champion. He actually got Bradley to kiss him once, though they'd both been really drunk and you weren't a hundred percent sure that wasn't the outcome he wanted in the first place.

They were still standing in exactly the same spot, “Are y'all okay?”

Jake recovered first, “Yeah, we just can't believe we took down the reigning queen. Umm, we have to get going. There's an early briefing we forgot about. We'll see you tonight for dinner. Love you.”

He grabbed Bradley’s cover and shoved it in his arms before grabbing his own and bodily forcing them out the back door.

That was weird. Normally they'd give you a ration of shit for losing. It's not like them to let you off scot-free. Whatever, you had a meeting to get to as well, so you gathered up your purse, phone, keys, and makeup bag, took one last look at your hair and makeup in the hall mirror and headed out the door to your Suburban.

———————————

The ride to the base was uneventful and you enjoyed the time by listening to a podcast and sipping your coffee from your mama bear travel mug. You parked in visitor parking and hopped down from your tank of a vehicle. You were wearing heels, but you were still a diminutive height even on the best day.

The building housed offices for all the major commanding officers stationed at NAS North Island and it looked as imposing as the men and women it housed. You took the elevator to the second floor and made your way to the office of COMPACFLT, currently Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson and the office of his Deputy Commander Vice Admiral Solomon “Warlock” Bates. You had known both men for years as Mike had a habit of endearing himself to others regardless of rank and they had been beyond helpful when you were sorting things out after his death.

Still they were imposing men in imposing positions in an imposing building, so to say you weren't nervous would be a lie. You quietly stepped up to the young ensign seated at the desk outside Admiral Simpson's office and gave him your name. He asked you to take a seat and rose, presumably, to let the man know you were there.

A few moments later you heard a familiar voice say, “Hannah, it's so good to see you. How have you been?”

Beau Simpson was a formidable man who had definitely been devastatingly handsome in his youth and was still very good looking even if he did frown more than he smiled. He did favor you with a rare smile when he pulled you into a hug when you awkwardly tried to shake his hand.

“I think we're well beyond handshakes by now. Don't you,” had the Commander of the Pacific Fleet just teased you?

“I suppose we are, Admiral. I really never will be able to thank you and Admiral Bates for all the help you gave me and the girls when Mike passed,” you spoke trying to convey all the sincerity you felt.

As if on cue, Solomon Bates opened the door of his office next door and automatically pulled you into a hug as well. It felt odd to be so unimportant, but so familiar with the two most powerful men on the island. You could feel the eyes of both men's assistants burning into you trying to figure out who you were to warrant such a welcome.

Admiral Simpson ushered all of you into his office and closed the door behind him. He gestured for you to take a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk and Admiral Bates took the other. Everything about the office screamed Commanding Admiral from the large mahogany desk to the rows of Naval literature lining the walls to the large antique Maritime maps making up much of the decor.

“Hannah, do you know why we brought you here,” Simpson questioned from behind the enormous desk.

You decided to go for quippy to see how far you could push the staid man, “To lighten the decor?”

He actually had the decency to genuinely laugh. He was definitely softening in his older age. Admiral Bates also chuckled next to you.

“Seriously, though, sirs, I know that you want to raise public opinion of the Navy and most likely the military in general, since both took pretty significant hits under the previous administration and the current administration has been trying to overhaul public perception in almost every sector. Presumably, one of the first and easiest ways to open up to the public with tours and access to Naval personnel,” you offered the most likely explanation you could think of.

“First, you are a very smart and perceptive woman. I knew we made the right choice. Second, none of this sir or Admiral business. One of the most important optics of this program is that we're not above or removed from the everyday civilian. You can call us by first name or call sign. Third, do you know why we chose you for this,” Cyclone’s responding list was an interesting mix of the expected and the surprising. You definitely knew the answer to the last question, though.

“I cut a sympathetic figure? I'm a Navy widow, but my husband didn't die in combat, which could leave people conflicted and he did die of cancer, which is something that touches everybody's life and gives me a personal connection with every person I interact with,” you responded smoothly.

“Very perceptive, indeed,” Warlock interjected.

“You also have a personal relationship with the unit we're going to have as our go to for tours,” Cyclone added.

That was an unexpected turn of events, “The Daggers? Why them? Nevermind. I already know the answer. Planes are sexy. Pilots are more interesting than your average sailor and this squad, in particular, is more parade-pretty than most.”

Both men chuckled at the term, but didn't dispute anything you said. The squad would get metaphorical asses in metaphorical seats, of that you had no doubt.

The remainder of the meeting was going over logistics. What days and how many tours to give a day, what source material to use for your talking points, and what to do if Maverick or any of the hotheads on the Squad lose their cool in front of guests. That last one you had plenty of personal experience dealing with off base, so you weren't worried.

Once the details were ironed out, Cyclone and Warlock stood and you quickly followed suit. At the door Beau turned to you, “So, are you ready to go tell your friends about their new duties?”

Your eyebrows raised to your hairline and your eyes went round, “They don't know?!?!?!”

Both ensigns jumped at the sudden outburst and you quickly apologized before turning back to the officers at your side, “Well, I'm certainly not telling them, especially Maverick. He hates PR anything and I want all of them to still like me. Not something I think either of you are particularly concerned with.”

Your comment was, once again, met with chuckles and no denials. The three of you made your way out of the building to one of the base jeeps parked out front and you weren't sure if it was the California heat or nerves that had you sweating in the passenger seat, both men having insisted you take it while another ensign drove you across base to the hangar that held your found family.

You were watching the base slide past as you made the drive and before you knew it you were at the hangar. You weren't sure why you were nervous. It's not you they were going to be mad at. You weren't the one that was going to order them to turn on the charm for the public. The Admirals got out first and you hung back in the car, not sure what exactly you were supposed to do.

The squad was sitting in the makeshift classroom facing away from the entrance. You waited until Warlock had their full attention before you slipped quietly from the Jeep. Your heels were the only noise you made, but Maverick met your eye as soon as you cleared the door. He must have sensed you just wanted to listen because he didn't acknowledge you beyond a brief head nod.

You heard the groans as soon as the squad realized what was going on and you knew you'd have to pull out the big guns to get them on your side. The wind blowing through the hangar suddenly changed direction and you were nearly blown off your feet as a strong guest blew in from behind you. You saw Hangman and Rooster straighten in their seats. Something had gotten their attention. Warlock wasn't saying anything particularly interesting, so you were puzzled at what it could be. You weren't able to think on it too much because the next thing you heard was Solomon saying your name and beckoning you to the front of the room.

You pushed off the table you had been leaning against and made your way forward. You could feel their eyes burning into you. You wish you had known this was going to happen so you could have given them the heads up. You finally turned in your heels and looked at the group in front of you.

“Look, I know y'all don't want to do this. It's going to interrupt your days and take up too much time. People are going to ask stupid, repetitive questions. You're going to hear me say the same speech over and over. It sucks. I get it, but here's the thing,” you started as soon as you saw Natasha open her mouth to fend off the onslaught you knew was coming, “the Navy needs the positive press and y'all are just too pretty to pass up. Blame your parents for good genetics. Here's what's going to happen. Hangman's going to use the megawatt smile and a wink to charm the pants off the older women. Phoenix is going to scare the pants off everyone. Payback and Fanboy are going to make friends with anyone feeling remotely awkward. Coyote is going to bond with anyone even remotely aviation inclined. Rooster is going to flutter the heart of every broody teenage girl and Maverick will find something in common with every vet that comes through here and Bob will melt the heart of every teenage girl that walks through that door because he is a fucking ray of sunshine compared to the rest of you egotistical assholes. Now, look me in the eye and tell me that I'm wrong,” you finished waiting for any response. There was none.

You stepped away from the podium before adding, “Listen, I know and love all of you and I know you love me and the girls too, so if you won't do it for another reason, do it for them. The last thing they need is to see hate directed toward the institution their father spent his life serving.”

You knew that hit home with all of them by the silence that followed you back to the Jeep. Yeah, it was probably a low blow and a bit overly dramatic, but it was for the best for everyone and they needed to see that. You turned as you got back into the Jeep to see Jake still watching you while everyone else seemed to be talking about, or in Natasha's case arguing about, what they had just been told, well ordered really.

‘Proud of you,’ he mouthed, making you duck your head and tuck your hair behind your ear. You were absolutely the worst at taking compliments or praise of any kind.

You managed a quick ‘thank you’ before Cyclone and Warlock pulled away from Maverick and headed back in your direction. Once in the Jeep there was a moment of silence before both men started laughing, actually laughing.

“Well that was a sight to behold to be sure,” Warlock finally got out.

“You are something else, my dear, and exactly what I think we need to get this program off the ground,” Cyclone offered as the ensign began the drive back across the base.

You hugged both men again outside your car once you were back with a follow up meeting scheduled in a week to determine how long it will take you to get the basic talking points worked out and when you could expect to start your first tours.

You were flying high on your way home and decided to stop at your favorite coffee shop for a treat. You even found a parking spot right out front. Yep, it was a good day.

The bell over the door chimed as you stepped into the mostly empty restaurant. As you were making your way to the counter, the barista came out from the back room. It was Gabriel. Gabriel looked like one of those guys on the covers of romance novels and was an absolute sweetheart to boot.

“Hey Hannah, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure,” Gabriel spoke as you stopped in front of him. You rolled your eyes as you looked through the bakery case, maybe you were here a little too often.

“Laying it on a little thick today, aren't we Gabriel,” you shot back before straightening up and meeting his eye, “I'll take a large caramel macchiato and a zucchini muffin.”

He started putting together your order before responding, “What can I say? You're my favorite customer and I'm not afraid to say it.”

“Yeah, I bet you tell all your customers that. I bet it gets you the big tips too,” you teased.

The conversation lulled for a few moments as Gabriel concentrated on pulling the espresso for your drink. He automatically put it in a to-go cup and bagged up your muffin, meeting you at the counter with both.

“What's the damage today,” you asked as you fished around in your purse for your wallet.

Gabriel cleared his throat before answering, “It's on the house.”

“What,” you looked up, confused.

“Well, I was hoping you'd go with me to a concert next weekend and I was hoping free coffee and pastry might tip the odds in my favor,” Gabriel explained quickly, suddenly looking very self conscious. A very odd look on a man that was very aware of how good looking he was.

You knew you looked like a deer in the headlights standing there for a few seconds before your brain would let you form sentences again. You also knew from the heat coming off your face that it was beet red, not a great look.

“Wow,umm, thank you, for both the food and the invite. Umm, the thing is, I'm not sure I'm quite ready to start dating again,” you hoped you were letting him down gently.

“I completely understand, but the answer is always no if you never even ask, you know? Well, the food is still on the house and if you change your mind anytime soon, I'd love to go out with you,” Gabriel responded, pushing your drink and muffin toward you, “I hope you have a great weekend.”

“You too, Gabriel. I'll see you next week,” you replied, heading toward the door.

Heather, your best girlfriend, was never going to believe this! Your call went straight to voicemail (the nerve!), so you sent a quick text to call when she could because you had news and then continued the short drive home.

The rest of your morning and early afternoon was a blur of some necessary cleaning, laundry, research for your tours, and entertainment scrolling on your phone. About fifteen minutes before the girls’ bus dropped them off, your phone rang. The display showed Heather flipping you off, a picture that always made you laugh, even in the depths of grief. You swiped up and brought the phone to your ear.

“Tell me those boys next door finally made a move,” Heather exclaimed by way of hello, “and don't roll your eyes at me. They're in love with you, I know it.”

“Anyway,” you started a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary, “You remember Gabriel, the barista at Common Grounds?”

“Romance novel boy? Yeah, what about him,” Heather responded, rapid fire.

You took a deep breath before continuing, “He asked me out!”

“Excuse me, what? Did you sell your soul or something to get all these men chasing you,” Heather commented.

There was a lull in the conversation as both your minds automatically turned to what you would have sold your soul for.

Heather sounded much more subdued when she spoke again, “I'm sorry, babe. I didn't….”

You took pity on her, “I know, babe. It's not a big deal. I still miss him so much. I still pick up the phone to call him at least once a day. Hell, I'm still paying his phone bill, so I can call and hear his voice on voicemail. How can I start dating when I'm still hung up on Mike?”

Heather sighed and was quiet for a moment before quietly saying, “You're not hung up on him. You loved him with your whole heart and he was part of the foundation of your whole life. That's not something that you just turn off. He's always going to be a part of your life. You'll see him in the girls forever, but he wouldn't want you to push everyone away and do life alone. He'd want you to be happy and have a partner…..or partners.”

“Heather!”

Your yell was loud even to your ears, but she needed to get that crazy idea out of her head, especially because it kept making awkward thoughts pop up in your head.

“Listen, the girls are going to be home in a few minutes and then I'll be neck deep in homework and evening chaos. We're having a cookout for the squad tomorrow night. Do you want to come,” you offered since you haven't seen her in a while and wanted her to know you weren't mad.

“Actually, Dean is in town from the road tomorrow, so hopefully, I'll be busy,” she replied with a giggle,”but can we have lunch one day next week? I miss you.”

“It's a date. We'll figure out where and when Monday and in the meantime, make good choices or take pictures. I love you,” you waited for her confirmation before hanging up.

As if on cue, the girls came bursting through the front door and all thoughts of men, dates, and the future of your love life were put on hold while you switched into mom mode.

“Any big news,” you questioned all three while they ate the snack you made for them. Being a stay at home mom had always been your dream after struggling as a working mom with Elizabeth and Jack. Mike had known how important it was to you and had moved heaven and earth to make it possible. ‘He still is,’ you thought as you observed how much all of the girls looked like him in their own way. Lily was the spitting image of him in every way. Harper looked like you, but had so much of his personality and attitude that she'd say something and all you could see was Mike. Charlotte was the wild card. She didn't look like either of you really, but had such a good mix of both your personalities that it was hard to see where one ended and the other began.

“We have a field trip to the aquarium coming up,” Charlotte announced through a mouth full of food.

Lily looked at her, appalled, “I got an A on my science project.”

Harper was unusually quiet, but she had always been a daddy's girl and had had the hardest time adjusting to life without Mike.

“Everything okay, punk,” you asked gently, crouching down in front of her.

She shook her head, but didn't offer more.

“Is it about Daddy,” you guessed tentatively.

She nodded a split second before she threw her arms around you and started crying, “I just miss him so much, Mama, and everything at school reminds me of him. I hate it. It hurts so much!”

You felt your own eyes well, but you tamped it down, knowing it would just make her cry harder. You squeezed her tight and rubbed her back for a minute then gently pulled back.

“Baby girl, you loved your daddy so much and that didn't just end when he was gone, so sometimes, when those feeling build up, the only place they have to go is down your face as tears. There's nothing wrong with that, but you know as well as I do that your daddy wouldn't want you sitting around being sad about him not being here. He'd hp want you to go out and have a ton of fun and then come home at night and tell him all about it because you know, if you talk to him at night, he hears you,” you explained carefully.

“Really?”

You smiled warmly at her, “Really and I know he loves hearing about what you're doing, so what do you say we finish snack and homework and then we can start getting the food and fire pit ready for tomorrow?”

That suggestion was met with effusive nods all around and both snack and homework were done in short order. You let the older two go stack wood in the fire pit while Charlotte helped you shuck corn and make coleslaw. You were having a barbecue with crock pot pulled pork, coleslaw, and grilled corn. The rest of the crew would bring various other dishes, so that you didn't have to do everything and, of course, there would be an adequate amount of alcohol.

Before you knew it, it was time to start working on tonight's dinner, since you had company coming over. Well, the boys, but you supposed they technically still counted as company. You were just shoving a lasagna into the oven when they walked through the door. The dogs, of course, lost their minds until you forced all of them into the backyard. There was a moment of quiet, but before you could even say hi, the girls descended and they all fell into a pile on the floor.

You took the moment to just watch them. They were so good with the girls. Treating them like they were their own, which the girls would be if anything ever happened to you, but no one outside this room knew that. Both Jake and Bradley had changed out of their uniforms into civilian clothes and they looked just as good, if not better, than they had this morning. Jake was wearing a dark green Henley, just tight enough jeans, and work boots. Bradley was wearing a matching burgundy shirt and similar jeans and boots. You'd be lying if you said you weren't checking their asses out while they were rolling on the floor with the kids. You were only human after all.

Grabbing Charlotte by her ankles, you hauled her up and started “eating” her stomach. The giggles were music to your ears. Setting her down, you pulled the other two out of the pile and sent them to have some chill time before dinner.

Jake started gathering things for a salad from the fridge and Bradley pulled out the garlic bread they brought and opened the wine. He preheated the oven to warm up the bread and turned to you while he waited for it to finish.

“That was a hell of a speech you gave this morning,” he commented, seeming to tread lightly.

You chuckled lightly, “Yeah, I might have gone a little overboard, but it's a good program and everyone just needs to get onboard and they'll see.”

“I hope you're right,” Bradley said off hand.

Jake saw the look you shot Bradley and stepped in before things got ugly.

“So, how was the rest of your morning, darlin,” he threw out quickly.

“Oh,” you started and then laughed lightly, “y'all won't believe this. I stopped to get coffee after my meeting this morning and Gabriel, you know, the barista at Common Grounds asked me out. How crazy is that?”

Jake saw Bradley's head snap up and knew things weren't going to go well.

“What,” Bradley's voice had a tone that seemed off.

“Yeah, I mean I turned him down. I'm not ready to date yet, but it was nice to be asked,” the more you spoke the guiltier you felt.

“I mean, of course, you told him no,” Bradley said with a certainty that rubbed you the wrong way.

You tried not to sound annoyed, but you knew you did, “What do you mean ‘of course’? I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to date whenever I feel ready.”

Bradley didn't seem to sense the danger he was in, but Jake sure did and he tried to give his partner the high sign to no avail.

“I mean, it's only been six months. If you started dating now it might send the wrong message. My mom didn't start dating until two years after my dad died and even then it was only occasionally and never amounted to anything,” Bradley spouted with superiority.

Jake saw what was coming, but was helpless to stop it. It was liking watching a car wreck in show motion.

You drew yourself up to your full, albeit unimpressive height, and said, “How dare you? You've never lost a partner you loved more than life itself. You've never lied in bed and wondered if it was possible to die of a broken heart and if it was, would your daughters find your body in the morning. So, if I decide that maybe I'm ready to get back out into the dating world, who are you, Bradley Bradshaw, to make me feel guilty about it. Screw you.”

You stomped off to tell the girls that dinner was ready then pulled the lasagna out of the oven and got the salad and dressings on the table ignoring the boys the entire time. Jake had done nothing wrong, but they were a pair and you'd be damned if you gave Bradley the satisfaction of acknowledging him without an apology.

Dinner was a quiet affair, but fortunately, the girls didn't seem to notice. Everything was cleared up in near silence. Then everything was done and there was nothing else to hide behind. All three of you stood there staring at your feet. The silence war becoming oppressive.

“Listen, umm, I'm sorry,”Bradley fumbled.

You scoffed, “Don't. Just don't. You made your stance abundantly clear. I thought I had you in my corner, supporting me through all the shit I have to deal with, but apparently it comes with stipulations, so just don't. I'm sure y'all can see yourselves out.”

You walked out, stopping to drop a kiss on Jake's cheek and a hug around his shoulders before heading down the hall to your room still slightly shaking with anger.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Jake pounced, “What the fuck was that?!?!?”

Bradley just shrugged knowing that he had royally fucked up, “I'm sorry. Just the thought of her with someone else was more than I could take. I panicked."

“Well congratulations, dumbass, you all but pushed her in that direction,” Jake hissed back, shooting a glance down the hall to make sure you weren't coming back, “now you need to figure out how to fix it. Come on, let's get out of here, so she can come out of her room. We'll come back in the morning and you'll fix it.”

You waited until you heard the back door close before coming out of your room to stand in the middle of the kitchen, tears streaming down your face.

Tag List:

@seitmai

[rallamajoop]

Hi! Do you have a resource for the Japanese text of Resident Evil Village? While I need to replay the game for environmental story telling, I noticed some changes during localization, some big ans others small. Namely the origin of the death flower dagger, or the “christianization” of certain pagan elements such as Nichola’s goddess, etc. I would like to maybe one day hyper focus on Donna’s region. I feel like one can infer much from what we’re given between her home to the path leading to it

The residentevil.fandom wiki, for all its flaws, does have Japanese versions of all the text documents (or at least all the ones I've checked)! You can find it under the 'original script' tab under the 'Transcript' section for any file. It's the one big advantage that wiki does have over the file list at evilresource.com, which I'd otherwise prefer.

Having spent so long going through the actual game files, I do also have text dumps of pretty much everything in the game. That includes a lot of shorter titles or descriptions that the wiki wouldn't have. But they're not the easiest to navigate, as they include EVERY language the game supports, and things aren't always ordered intuitively. There's also some unused content in there, which is interesting but not always easy to identify.

To the best of my knowledge there aren't many significant changes between the Japanese and English text, though there are certainly a few. I've talked about a few examples before: the RE7 text for Mia's Orders document does describe her job a little differently in the Japanese (though neither version calls her a scientist, and good god am I sick of people repeating that nonsense!) I brought up a few more in my post about the Four Lords: Japanese text for Dimitrescu specifies she's the daughter of a fallen noble, the information about some of Dimitrescu's and Donna's powers is framed a little differently in the Japanese, and Heisenberg seems to mock the very idea he's any real kind of noble in his diary. These stood out to me mostly because they're cases where the Japanese version explained things that weren't made more sense than the English, given the rest of the context of the game (give or take some individual interpretation ‒ my own Japanese is not much above fangirl-level, and machine translation is only ever so reliable).

The one other interesting change I'm aware of is that Miranda's diary has a little more information about the Cadou in the Japanese text, stating they're derived from a nematode worm. That arguably makes some sense, in that nematodes can be parasitic, and we do see wormlike tendrils emerging from some infected characters. But it explains nothing about how you combine a worm with the mould and get what looks like a deformed human foetus, let alone why the megamycete itself takes the same shape ‒ and it's still pretty hard to read the whole Cadou concept as much more than an ill-thought-out attempt to copy RE4's parasites into their pseudo-RE4-remake. I'd guess the fact it adds so little to our understanding of the Cadou may be why it's excluded from the English version. Possibly the inclusion flowed more naturally in the Japanese version than it does in English, or perhaps it was just missed by accident.

But since I hadn't seen either of your own examples before, naturally, I took a look into them!

From 'Rumours of a Dagger', it looks like the biggest difference is that while the Japanese says something about who created it ‒ "a delusional former head of the family" ‒ that detail is missing from the English version, is that what you're referring to? Interesting! I can see why it might've been dropped from the English, it's the kind of throwaway detail that doesn't really add anything important, and may not have flowed as naturally without a bigger restructure. But the image of a nutjob former lord of the castle, abusing his power to indulge his whims, gathering poisons from all over the world as part of some mad project ‒ that's evocative enough to create quite the image. Was he inspired to create it out of fear of village-mould-monsters like the demon from the relief on the castle gate, maybe? The Japanese version does seem to carry slightly more suggestion that the dagger was created in the castle too, which I didn't get from the English. Nice, and definitely intriguing!

On the Nichola's goddess thing, though ‒ it looks like the main discrepancy is that she's framed as 'Father Nichola's Angel' in the English, but 'Nichola's Goddess' (ニコラの女神像) in the Japanese? That's the kind of change that I'd be a little more leery of reading much into. Japanese does technically have a word for 'angel' (tenshi, 天使), but I've seen localisations translate '女神/megami/female goddess' as 'angel' before (and the reverse), because, well, we're in comparative religion territory now, and concepts overlap. The difference between a literal god or goddess and an angel or 'heavenly messenger' is going to be hazy at the best of times, and 'megami' carries feminine connotations where 'tenshi' doesn't, so may have been seen as more appropriate for the statue asset they used.

It's also worth noting that the model they used for the statue is actually all over the modern Resident Evil series, going back to RE7, mostly appearing as a bit of decorative kitsch in very-western settings where it's very definitely meant to be read as an angel is the traditional Christian sense (the Bakers sure wouldn't have pagan goddesses around their home!) Seriously, this thing haunts me ‒ I have found it in RE7, RE8, and the remakes of both RE2 and RE4. It's probably in RE3 somewhere too. So I'd read 'megami' as a poor translation of 'angel', rather than the other way around.

It's even in multiple places in the Winters' own home in RE8! No-one recycles assets like the RE series!

All that said though, this all comes with my usual big "I am NOT a fluent Japanese speaker" caveat, and if you want to take 'Nicola's Goddess' as evidence of a pagan religion in the village? Heck, why not? 'Megami' is still totally open to interpretation, and though most of the pre-Miranda imagery around the village is v. Christian (all the pictures of saints, etc), the village does still have a very pagan-coded fixation on goats, and we've also got at least one document referring to the locals as 'heathens'. I've suggested before that probably means a different denomination of Christians, rather than actual pagans, but it's certainly open to interpretation.

And in the same text, it's also interesting that '叔父ニコラ' or 'Oji/Uncle Nicola' has become 'Father Nichola' in translation. I'm not aware of any religious implications of 'Oji/Uncle', whereas 'Father' is very clearly Christian in context. Does that mean anything? Heck, IDK, if you want it to!

Speaking of localisation issues: as far as I can see, translations into languages other than English or Japanese have been done using the English version as a template, not the Japanese. This is based on the few times I've tried machine translation on those other languages from the text files, so we're not talking about a big sample here, but the results look pretty definitive. Most likely this is done for practical reasons: I'm sure it's easier to find translator for French, Spanish or German who can translate from English than from Japanese, but it's interesting that they seem to be taking the English version as 'definitive', even though the Japanese version consistently comes first in the text dumps. But either way, you're not likely to find 'confirmation' of the Japanese/English differences looking anywhere else ‒ if there are any significant differences between the English and other language versions, I haven't spotted them.

On another more general note, I am coming at all this with some real-world experience with the translation/localisation process in projects like these (I don't work in game development, but I am a programmer who's worked on major websites while language support was being added as a new feature), and the little I can tell you is that translating something of that scale can be a heckuva chaotic process. You don't want to leave all the translations to be done at the last minute before release, because it can be a huge job ‒ and I know Capcom has English-speaking staff, so getting things translated into English as they're written (or even written first in English and translated into Japanese) is bound to be a priority.

But at the same time, things get re-written all the time during development. Maybe we've changed our minds about some story or technical detail. Maybe we've spotted an error. Maybe the text is slightly too long. Which can be a major headache, if every minor change might need to be translated into multiple other languages, and/or checked by multiple different people to make sure it makes sense in context. A lot of minor details will also likely get dropped or embellished during the translation process, either due to misunderstandings or just because producing something which sounds natural in the target language is usually better than wording that is technically correct but linguistically awkward.

So tl;dr: small differences between localisations are bound to happen, and are absolutely grounds for over-analysis, if you're so inclined. Who knows what else might be buried in all those files?

[sumtheamazinglysickauthor]

that's amazing to hear<3 I'm here for arataki itto🫴

can i request a soulmate story with him and reader who's from mondstadt? I'll leave the rest of it to your mighty hands<3

Hey, anon! Hope you're doing well. Sorry this took a bit, I... kinda got carried away since this was my first ask. Hope you enjoy (and if this isn't what you wanted, feel free to ask again- though I might remake it a later time anyways or add on <3 (I have mixed feelings about this 'cause I gave myself a time limit due to work *ahem*)) Anyways, without further ado, enjoy (and give me more requests to feed you)!

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Fated Encounters - An Arataki Itto Fic

 ------- The bustling streets of Inazuma City were unlike anything you had ever seen before. Coming from Mondstadt, where the winds were free and the atmosphere always light-hearted, Inazuma felt heavy with its strict laws and vibrant energy. Yet, this place had its own charm. You had traveled to Inazuma for a reason—inspiration. You wanted something different for your poems, usually based on freedom and whatever else inspired you. You wanted to make something new. Why Inazuma? Well… though your purpose was significant, part of you couldn’t shake off the strange feeling that the winds of fate were pushing you toward something much more… personal. You felt a push to the place, despite how strict you’ve heard the place was. As you were walking through Hanamizaka, making your way through the narrow streets, you noticed a small commotion ahead. Curious, you quickened your pace to where the little of a crowd was. And that’s when you saw him. A tall, muscular man with striking white hair and pale red streaks, his red eyes glowing with an almost mischievous gleam and a touch of pride, as if he was used to being the center of attention and relished every moment of it. He was looking at the small wooden area infront of him and a child, where two beetles were… fighting? Now that’s new. Your eyes met as he glanced through the faces. You felt something weird and for a moment, time slowed. His gaze locked on yours a little longer than necessary, giving you a smirk before going back to concentrating. “C’mon, don’t disappoint me now! Show ‘em who’s boss.” the man said, his voice piercing.

 After another minute, his beetle managed to knock the kid’s one on its back, which, by the cheeky grin, probably meant the man won. “Aw yeah, that’s my beetle!” his deep voice was filled with pride as he pumped his fists in the air, “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Who’s the true beetle gladiator, huh? That’s right, baby, me—Arataki 'The Beetle Gladiator' Itto, always coming out on top!” You couldn’t help but chuckle. I mean– this wasn’t a sight you see everyday. A strange man. Beetles fighting like knights. This place was surely entertaining. The man piqued your curiosity, and you found yourself wanting to learn more. So, you did something you wouldn’t usually do. You walked closer to him. You weren’t sure why, it was a sudden urge. You’ve been getting a lot of those nowadays it seems. 

 The man– Itto, from his earlier declaration, caught sight of your approach almost immediately. You weren’t surprised, you weren’t being subtle. He gave you a grin. “Oh-ho! What do we have here? A beetle enthusiast wantin’ to know the secrets of my ways? I couldn’t blame ya.” You give a smile, “I wouldn’t go that far. Though I did find the battle interesting, to say the least.” Itto beamed, “Interesting? Interesting? Oh-ho, bud, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Beetle battling is a test of skill, patience, and a bond so strong it could make legends jealous!” he dramatically threw his fists in the air before turning back to you, “So tell me, dear traveler, have you ever… handled a beetle?” Traveler? Was it that obvious? Who were you kidding, of course it probably was. 

 “Can’t say I have… I’ve never really heard about uhm…” you think of what to call this, “beetle fighting.” Itto gave you a dramatic look of shock, eyes widening. “You’ve never done beetle battles before?” You shook your head, ‘Beetle battling’ wasn’t really something you’d call common or a hobby you’ve seen people do in Mondstadt. “Nope.” “Oh you are missin’ out! They’re only one of the best pastimes that should be taken with utmost seriousness.” “Sounds like quite the experience.” “Oh you bet! And lucky for you, you’ve got the One and Oni, the Leader of the Arataki Gang, Arataki Beetle Gladiator Itto, here to teach you.” You stand for a moment, blinking at the man and his introduction. “C’mon, whatcha waitin’ for? No time like the present. What do you say, you in?

 You really wanted to. There was that impulsive urge again, making you do things. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do anyways, and what was the harm in it, right?

 “I’m in.” That’s where it started. The two of you spent who knows how long with him teaching you about this interesting game and you learning. You battled a bit, losing for being the beginner you were, and Itto– as arrogant as he seemed to be– never put you down for it. The two of you talked a bit as you played. You told him about being from Mondstadt and being a poet looking for inspiration for your next piece, and Itto, ever the talkative one, shared stories about his gang and how he always found himself in wild situations. “So you’re a poet, huh? Whatcha write about?”

 “Oh y’know, freedom and feeling unburdened. It’s what I love about Mondstadt. The winds, the open skies, its all so… light” Itto paused for a moment, before smiling. “Sounds like a pretty cool place.” You smiled, thinking about it. Cool, indeed.

 After what was probably a while, the two of you had separate things to attend to. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be beetle battling forever. “See ya around, poet.” he says with a grin and a two fingered salute. “You know who to go to for a rematch.” “I’ll hold you to it. Bye, Itto.” you give him a smile of your own before parting ways.

 You walked, letting out a small laugh as you recalled everything that just happened. It was the most fun you had since being here. You hadn’t thought of going back to Mondstadt once during the time. The man… Arataki Itto. He seemed like an idiot– in the best way. He seemed familiar, though you just met him today and was certain you’ve never seen him before. The whole time, you felt an odd pull towards him. Some sort of electric jolt when you first made eye contact. Something told you this wouldn’t be the last time you’d see the self proclaimed “Beetle Gladiator,” not by a long shot, and for a weird reason, you didn’t want it to be. Maybe you really would hold him to his words.

 Though, the next time you see him wasn’t on purpose. You were just strolling, enjoying your freetime and thinking of what to write about. Your journal was in your hand, and you were jotting down things to potentially inspire you. That’s when you heard a laugh.

 A familiar laugh.

 You turned around. And there he was. Arataki Itto, striding confidently down the street with his signature grin, surrounded by what looked like the gang he was talking about. You found it kind of cool that this man had a whole gang that he founded and led. He didn’t notice you at first, but it seemed like the universe was pulling your strings, because as his gaze flicked over, your eyes met. Again. Then, you felt that pull. Again.

 And the electric jolt. Again. It was more intense this time. The feeling was odd. What was wrong with you? What was this feeling? You didn’t know. There was something– something ancient– that pulled you to him. Something deeper. A feeling so familiar yet unrecognizeable.

 Itto’s grin widened seeing you, eyes gleaming in recognition. “Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite beetle enthusiast!” a few people glanced his way as he said that. Loud. From across the street. 

 He strided over to you, like the street was his stage. “So, how’s the mighty poet doin’ today?” You smirked back at him, “In the presence of the One and Oni, who wouldn’t be doing great.” Itto let out a boisterous laugh, “Haha! You got that right.” He looks down at your journal, “Still thinkin’ of your next masterpiece?” You let out a sigh, “Yup. Still searching for that perfect spark. Inspiration’s been a bit elusive lately.” “Well if you’re lookin’ for a muse, I could totally see myself inspiring some epic lines.” he flexed his muscles, “I mean– who wouldn’t wanna write about the One and Oni?” You chuckled, “I’d be honored, but my writing is more about feelings. Not specific people.”

 “Feelings, huh? I respect that. Gotta capture the vibes of life, right?” A cough interrupted your conversation. It came from his gang, who were all– with the exception of the green haired only female–  smirked. Riiight. His gang. “Boss, we’re going to be late if you keep flirting with her.” You blushed a bit. He looked at them, shooting a grin, clearly unbothered by their teasing. “Pfft– hey! It was a very deep convo.” He looked back at you, “Alright, my boys need me. Duty calls. I’ll see ya?” he says, going back to his gang. “I’ll be here, looking for inspiration.” “Hope ya find it, poet.” his grin widened. 

 And he and his gang were gone. His words lingered in your mind. The strange feeling never left, but you ignored it. What else were you supposed to do when you didn’t know what it even was? You continued your stroll. That could’ve been the last coincidence, but no. Everywhere you went, somehow you kept meeting him. Sometimes, it’d be on purpose, but a good amount of times, it just happened. Sure, it wasn’t a huge city, but that doesn’t mean you’d continuously bump into eachother. It was as if the universe was trying to tell you something that you just couldn’t figure out. You weren’t stalking him— far from it— but every time you turned a corner or wandered, there he was. Arataki Itto. His wide grin, loud laugh, white hair, mischievous red eyes. Him. The odd feeling kept growing. The pull kept feeling stronger. You couldn’t escape it. Every encounter, whether by chance or choice, left you with this strange sense of recognition. You didn’t know what it was. It grew even more as your friendship with him grew. He started opening up to you more about his past, little snippets or stories, and you couldn’t help but feel an inexplicable sense of connection to the things he shared. It wasn’t that you were particularly close yet—there was still a lot you didn’t know about him—but every time he spoke about his childhood or some of the challenges he faced, you found yourself hanging on to his every word. He was a more sincere Oni with a heart bigger than life who had gone through things a child shouldn’t have to. One day, he was opening a little up to. He talked about his gang and an old woman– Grandma Oni, in a way that made your heart melt.

 “We welcome anyone who’s experienced adversities in their lives. People can call us ‘freaks’ or ‘weirdos,’ but we don’t listen to ‘em.” He talks with passion, “The Arataki Gang is for those trying to find a place to belong. We’re a family. We face things together, good and bad.” His words hung in the air, resonating deeply within you. There was something so raw and genuine in the way he spoke, something that made it impossible to ignore the sincerity in his voice. “And… Granny Oni…” He smiled, “She isn’t an Oni at all, but the kindest human, one that took me in. She gets her nickname from that. I don’t care what people have to say about me, but I wish they wouldn’t go after her because of me.” There was something about the way he spoke that made your chest tighten. “She sounds amazing.” Your voice is soft as you speak, “So does your gang. The people who can’t see that don’t know what they’re missing out on.” “You got that right.” He said playfully, though there was a sadness in his eyes, “They don’t understand. But… that’s alright. We don’t need their approval anyways. All that matters is havin’ each other.” You give a nod, “You’re right. There’ll always be those judgy people who think they’re the best, but in the end, what matters is the people who see you.” The two of you look at eachother, staring for a few minutes before he blinks and replies. “You’re right. And– hey– you’re one of us too, y’know.” He says it casually but softly, no hint of his usual playfulness, “Even though you don’t know it yet. Well–  I mean– you do now, but y’know.” You smile, “I’m honored.” “Welcome to the Arataki Gang!” he says playfully, but his voice is softer, “Guess Kiku’s not the only female presence in it anymore.” “I like it here already.” “Of course ya do! We’re the best gang in Inazuma– wait– scratch that– best gang in all of Teyvat!” he dramatically says, though you could tell it was, in a way, sincere. You would wholeheartedly agree. You have never seen a gang you could mistake for a family before. One that always has eachothers backs when the world knocks them down. So, in a way, they really were the best. Your chuckles faded into a comfortable silence as the two of you stared at eachother. You could feel the pull getting stronger, tugging at something deep inside you. It was more than just familiarity—it was as if you had known him forever, even though it had only been a couple weeks. That moment, you thought of everything. How back in Mondstadt, you wanted to come to Inazuma for writing inspiration. How it wasn’t just for your poems, but a sudden urge in general pulling you to the place. A weird urge, and right now you could finally think of a way to explain it. It felt like you lost something out there, something important, something you just had to find. A missing piece that you never knew was gone. You thought of how you met Itto and how that pull, that feeling got stronger. How it got weirder. You thought of every time you and Itto met. How you always thought it was chance, but there were too many encounters to just blame it on that. There was one explanation on your mind. Fate. Destiny. Something unseen weaving the two of you together. It sounded ridiculous—like something out of one of your own stories—but you couldn’t shake the feeling. It wasn’t just coincidence. Every time you ran into him, every time your paths crossed, it felt like the universe was pushing you closer. And here you were now, standing with him and staring into his red eyes. The pull, the urge, the feeling

 was impossible to ignore now. You didn’t even know why you were so sure, but standing there, staring into his eyes, you could feel it deep in your chest. It was as if every interaction, every moment you shared led up to this. You wondered if, all this time, he felt it too.

 Itto’s playful smirk softened as he kept looking in your eyes with an intensity that brought a hint of red to your face. There was something unspoken between you now, something neither of you had addressed but both felt so clearly. “Y’know…” he began, his voice a little softer than before, “I’ve never really believed in fate. Never thought much about all that ‘destiny’ stuff…” He scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously, but the warmth in his voice was unmistakable. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d say something’s been pullin’ us together since the moment we met.”

 Your eyes widened, “You’ve… You’ve felt it too?”

 Itto smiled, his eyes a little more relaxed. Maybe he was thinking the same thing you were, and now finally had confirmation that it wasn’t just him. “Yeah, I’ve felt it,” he admitted, his voice low and steady, like he was letting himself be honest for the first time. “Every time we crossed paths, it was like the world was pushin’ us closer. At first, I thought it was just me being crazy, y’know? But now… I think I get it.” "I thought I was crazy, too," you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I kept telling myself it was just coincidence. But now... it’s like everything makes sense." He looked at you, letting out a small laugh, “Guess we’re both crazy, huh?” “Or maybe we aren’t… Maybe we were just being given signs that we’re… ” You hesitated, but something in his gaze encouraged you to keep going, “soulmates. Something like that.” Itto’s smile faltered as he processed your words, and for a second you almost regret what you said. "Soulmates, huh?" he repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a half-smile, as if testing the word out himself. "That’s a big word. But... it doesn’t sound so crazy when you say it." You swallowed, feeling a bit of heat rise to your cheeks, but the warmth between you only grew. The pull, the connection, all those moments that brought you here now—it felt undeniable. The universe, fate, destiny, whatever you wanted to call it—it was all leading to this. “Yeah… Maybe we were meant to be.” you swallowed. Both of you were blushing messes. He gave you a softer version of his teasing grin, “I guess I can live with that.” “Good. Because I… love you” you mumbled, shocking yourself by what you just said. Itto's eyes widened slightly as your words settled in the air between you two. He blinked, before coming up with a response. “You… do?” You nod. He blinks again. “I… Uhm– Woah…” he pauses for a moment, face turning red, “Look, like I said, I don’t know much about fate and whatnot, but… You’ve been pretty dang special to me too. Makin’ my little old heart race. I ain’t losin’ you either or lettin’ you go.” he sighs, giving you a grin. “I… I– I mean– of course I love you too.” 

The two of you look at eachother, smiling and chuckling at how this new beginning happened. The universe had a funny way of bringing people together, and in that moment, everything felt exactly as it should. “So…” You broke the silence, “Now what?” “Another beetle battle rematch? I wanna see how far you’ve come” “I’ll beat you this time, Arataki Itto.” "Oh, you think you're ready, huh? This is going to be epic!" He reached over and grabbed the beetle battle board, setting it down between you two with exaggerated flair. As the playful challenge went on, your heart finally relaxed.You finally found him. Your missing piece. Arataki Itto- The One and Oni- was yours. You were his. The two of you were meant to be. ----- Author's note: No, no this is not the end of their story (I love Itto too much to end the story like this. They may or may not get a moment in part 2.

[whattraintracks]

Hi it's me again 🤗

I noticed that you're the only (afaik) blog posting about HPI and its US remake High Potential, so I was very curious to hear your thoughts on comparing both versions? Have you noticed impactful differences (could be either plot, characterization, dynamics...) or is the second one a copycat of the first? Is there one more enjoyable to watch than the other? Also is the US version good? I'm considering watching it, mostly because I miss HPI's early seasons' spirit SO BAD, but also to me Daniel Sunjata = Paul Briggs, which would make an, um... interesting Karadec young!era but wait that's not the point! 😂

Anyway, thoughts? 👀👀

Hello!!

Not me aggressively hunting down HPI and High Potential posts to feed my new obsession 🤣

Yessssss, I would love to share my thoughts on this, let's go!

Let me first say, I only recently watched both of these shows. I first saw the pilot and second episode of High Potential, then I binged S1-3 of HPI, and I've now rewatched High Potential and am keeping up with the new episodes.

Obviously, the setting is one of the most significant differences, but as far as I understand, Major Crimes is a fair equivalent to the DIPJ. It's nice to watch a US crime procedural not set in New York lol. I'll be interested to see how High Potential plays with the geographical aspects of some of the HPI cases.

The pilots are almost exact copies, with one significant difference. The second episode is an entirely different case! Then, the third episode is a remake of HPI 1.02. It sounds like High Potential S1 will have somewhere around 13 episodes, so I'm hopeful it'll continue this back-and-forth of new and copied cases.

I'm thrilled that they've already used this extra episode to expand the plot and characters, and I hope that continues. Minor points that were glossed over in HPI, like Morgane getting her car back, are given a little more time, and we're getting to see more of the footwork done to investigate Roman's disappearance. High Potential is also taking more time to explore Morgan's dynamic with her family, and I love the little ways Roman's absence haunts her.

HPI does a decent job of not presenting the rest of the team as stupid to emphasise Morgane's intelligence, and High Potential is leaning into that. There are some great scenes of Daphne, Oz (Gilles), and Karadec picking up on tiny details, especially ones Morgan misses! Morgan is undoubtedly an asset to the team, but these are seasoned career detectives who're never more than a couple of steps behind her.

I do have a few complaints about the characterisations. First, the show seems to have already lost track of Karadec's cleanliness/hand sanitiser compulsion. Second, Olson's Morgan is not quite as silly goofy as Fleurot's Morgane. I miss my over-the-top ridiculous, no-respect-for-social-conventions lady. Third, Sunjata's portrayal of Karadec comes across as much bolder and—idk how to say it—larger than Nebbou's. He takes up more space, and I miss my dorky, unassuming guy. These are pretty nitpicky, though. Naturally, all of the US actors play their characters a little differently than the original actors. I don't hate it, but I'm still deciding which interpretations I do or don't love. Even so, I'm very much enjoying Morgan's dynamic with Karadec and the other detectives/cops.

I miss the spirit of the early seasons, too 😭 So far, I think it's balancing copycat and reinvention/expansion very well. I'm excited for the rest of it!

At the end of the day, this is a genre I love, and I enjoy watching adaptations simply for the fun of comparing and contrasting them with the original media. But even before I watched HPI, I got drawn into High Potential, so I do recommend checking it out.

Thanks for sticking around for this whole thing! Of course, all of this is based on my reading of HPI and High Potential. If you get around to watching the remake, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

[telomeke]

4 MINUTES – COUNTING DOWN

We're now just shy of the mid-point in 4 Minutes (three eps down with five more to go) and I've been avidly watching, but getting quite confused at the same time by all the twists and turns.

Part of that confusion stems from not being able to watch the "Sultrier" version at first, despite getting Viu Premium. (How do they come up with these euphemisms though? Remembering that KinnPorsche also had a "La Forte" incarnation. 🤣) The sanitized 4 Minutes was annoying, not just because the sexy bits were cut out, but also because we missed important, informative parts of the narrative.

For example, Korn and Ton Kla's Ep.1 sex scene was actually an in-your-face illumination of their relationship dynamics, and also a parallel with Win and Ton Kla's own Ep.3 turn in the sheets later, that revealed so much about their characters in the vein of show-don't-tell.

Ep.2's tryst between Korn and Fasai was also missing, as was (inexplicably) the conversation between Korn and a smoking Great in Ep.1. I can only presume it was Great's cigarettes that caused that scene to be snipped, because other scenes also had alcohol and ciggies all blurred out. Highly annoying, but anyway – I finally found out what was going on with Viu Premium, so if anyone else is having trouble finding Sultrier, I will share some tips in a different post.

And with that out of the way, I finally got to watching the unbutchered 4 Minutes – and I'm finding it smart, sexy and oh-so stylish in the mold that we've come to expect from Be On Cloud. Sumptuous cinematography and visuals are now quite a BoC hallmark, that started with KinnPorsche and continued in Man Suang – and 4 Minutes so far has been a delight to take in, a cinematic and super-twisty supernatural thriller overflowing with signs, symbols and scenes (possibly) pregnant with hidden meaning, so much so that the fandom is all a-flutter, me included.

Directing (and editing) has been taut, and I think Director Ning Bhanbhassa Dhubthien does much better when given free rein (unsaddled by screenwriting duties, and P'Pond maybe! 🤣) My take is colored by Man Suang – its huge potential for intellectual engagement (all that historical drama and political intrigue!) was unfortunately not developed to a satisfying extent; its most potent elements were given insufficient screentime, watering down what could have been a truly juicy experience for the viewer. Perhaps it might have done better as a mini-series with a longer timeframe for the developments to unfold, but that's a remake for another day perhaps.

Anyway, back to 4 Minutes. They've been really stoking the furnace with clues to the truth underlying the narrative, and fan theories abound as to what it all might mean while we breathlessly await revelation.

So I can only guess at some of the stuff, and nod at some of the visuals. But here's some of what I've picked up on.

The title 4 Minutes (especially with so many references in Ep.1 to cardiac arrest) is quite likely a nod at the widespread belief that when the heart stops beating, you only have four minutes to start resuscitation before the process of brain death begins to set in. (I'm seeing a lot of different opinions about this online, with some sources insisting the window of time is much longer. But there are enough mentions of the four-minute deadline in more than a few Thai sources that I think this is probably the intended significance, especially since screenwriter Sammon is also a medical doctor who would know of this notion's currency in popular culture. Here's an example in Thai media: CPR กู้ชีวิต ก่อนสมองตายใน 4 นาที/CPR saves life before brain death in 4 minutes.)

After the four minutes are up, it is too late to save the stricken patient – so there is a sense of urgency underlying the notion. (For another work that plays on this, see Madonna's song 4 Minutes where the urgency being messaged is about saving the planet instead.)

But with cardiac arrest, the premise is that even when corporeal death is signaled (cessation of the heartbeat being the traditional marker of this), a person's life-force still has that small window of time for human intervention to make a difference, a sort of ultimate last chance beyond the final frontier, if you will.

This aligns somewhat with what we're seeing of Great's do-overs, each time he is thrust back four minutes into the past. But I think there's also a bit more to it, based on what we're seeing in Episode 3.

Among all the fan theories online, this one by @myezblog caught my eye: Theory - plot is pretty much revealed.

Now, whenever Great is alone, we see that his clocks reset (and Great is aware of this too, by Ep.3). In Ep.1, his clock showed 11:00am (at timestamp 05:00, after his call with Title). And in Episode 2 we were shown Great's clock turning to 11:01 at timestamp 35:06, and in Episode 3 it went to 11:02 (timestamp 41:37).

But the ominous 11 o'clock actually put in an appearance even before these instances. Looking back, at the start of Episode 1 we were shown that the patient in the Emergency Department Resus bay basically flatlined at 11:00 – that was their time of death.

If it's really Great whose heart stopped on that Resus trolley in Ep.1, what we appear to be seeing is a flashback of events playing in his head, leading up to the time of his cardiac arrest (11:00).

And what his clocks are showing him (and us) whenever he's alone during that flashback is basically a countdown of the four minutes that he has, before he is brought back (hopefully) or is gone forever (I hope not – it wouldn't be much of a series then!).

So in the coming episodes, we should be watching for Great's clocks to tick up to the 11:04 mark – that is likely the time horizon when Great is jolted back to the present, hopefully having learnt some lessons reviewing his past that will be key to solving his conundrums in the present and the future.

[androgynealienfemme]

"The main justification for invalidating butch-femme is that its an imitation of heterosexual roles and, therefore, not a genuine lesbian model. One is tempted to react by saying "So what?" but the charge encompasses more than betrayal of an assumed fixed and "true" lesbian culture. Implicit in the accusation is the denial of cultural agency to lesbians, of the ability to shape and reshape symbols into new meanings of identification. Plagiarism, as the adage goes, is basic to all culture.

In the real of cultural identity, that some of the markers of a minority culture's boundaries originate in an oppressing culture is neither unusual nor particularly significant. For instance, in the United States certain kind of bead- and ribbon work are immediately recogniziable as specific to Native American cultures, wherein they serve artistic and ceremonial functions. Yet beads, trinkets, ribbons, and even certain "indian" blanket patterns were brought by Europeans, who traded them as cheap goods for land. No one argues that Indians out to give up beadwork or blanket weaving, thus ridding themselves of the oppressors symbols, because those things took on a radically different cultural meaning in the hands of Native Americans. Or consider Yiddish, one of the jewish languages. Although Yiddish is written in Hebrew characters and has its own idioms and nuances, its vocabulary is predominantly German. Those who speak German can understand Yiddish. Genocidal Germanic anti-Semitism dates back to at least the eleventh century. Yet East European Jews spoke "the oppressors language," developing in it a distinctive literary and theatrical tradition. Why is it so inconceivable that lesbians could take elements of heterosexual sex roles and remake them?

*

It is June 1987, and I am sitting in a workshop on "Lesbians and Gender Roles" at the annual National Women's Studies Conference. It is one of surprisingly few workshops on lesbian issues, particularly since, at a plenary session two mornings later, two thirds of the conference attendees will stand up as lesbians. Meanwhile, in this workshop the first speaker is spending half an hour on what she calls "Feminism 101," a description of heterosexual sex roles. Her point in doing this, she says, is to remind us of the origin of roles, "which are called butch and femme when lesbians engage in them." She tells us the purpose of her talk will be to prove, from her own experience, that "these roles are not fulfilling" for lesbians. She tells us that the second speaker will use lesbian novels from the 1950s to demonstrate the same thesis. And, indeed, the second speaker has a small stack of 1950s "pulp paperbacks" with her, many of them the titles that, when I discovered them in the mind-1970s, resonated for me in a way that the feminist books published by Daughters and Diana Press did not.

I consider for several minutes. I'm well versed in lesbian literature, particularly in the fifties novels, and don't doubt my ability to adequately argue an opposing view with the second presenter. I am curious to see if she will use the publisher-imposed "unhappy ending" to prove that roles make for misery. I also decide I'm willing to offer my own experience to challenge the first presenters conclusions- though I'd much rather sit with her over coffee and talk. She is in her midforties and, although she claims to have renounced it, still looks butch. Even if she speaks of roles negatively, she has been there and I want to hear her story. Then I look around me. Everyone is under thirty. There are a few vaguely butch-looking women present who'd very likely consider themselves to be as androgynous as everyone else, and not a single, even remotely femme-looking women besides myself. I recall Alice Walker's advice to "never be the only one in the room." Quietly, I get up and walk out. I go to no other lesbian presentations at the conference."

“Recollecting History, Renaming Lives: Femme Stigma and the feminist seventies and eighties" by Lyndall MacCowan, The Persistent Desire, (edited by Joan Nestle) (1992)

[futuresmashmemes]

For the inevitable next Smash game, I hope they do something really different compared to Ultimate and other previous games in the series.

Sakurai has said that the next potential game in the series would almost certainly need a significantly smaller roster just due to how hard it is to license and develop every character, and honestly I feel like a direct sequel to Ultimate (the same way all the other games in the series are “sequels” to each other) with a smaller roster would feel weird.

Besides, the Switch 2 is gonna be backwards compatible anyways. Melee and Brawl, the previous two backwards compatible Smash games, had significant gameplay issues that were overhauled in their sequels (Melee was deemed too competitive by Sakurai and Brawl’s floatier physics, random tripping, and complete dominance from Meta Knight were frequently critiqued). Ultimate isn’t really like this. Most fans agree that the gameplay is pretty much perfect and the roster much better balanced than in previous entries.

So, do we really need a new Smash game in the same general style as Ultimate anyways?

Well, it’s a moot question, because obviously Nintendo is gonna end up making it anyways because this series prints money. But here are some ideas I have that would help Smash 6 not get completely overshadowed by Ultimate:

1: A significant change in art style. Though they have their own unique touches, every Smash game since Melee (and arguably 64) has had a very similar art style. Yeah, Brawl’s the “denim” one and whatnot, but compare Mario’s model in the Smash games to his model from games like Wonder and the Mario RPG remake on Switch and you’ll see what I mean. I want to see Smash bros try something really different, which I think would give Smash 6 its own unique identity compared to other games in the series. Personally I would love to see a Smash game with fully 2D hand-drawn frames, like something like Skullgirls.

Obviously Skullgirls is a traditional fighting game and not a platform fighter like Smash (and WAY hornier than Smash should ever be), but you get the idea. Everyone in Skullgirls is hand drawn and the game is fully 2D while Smash uses 3D models and is 2.5D. There are countless other styles the game could use, but this one would be my personal favorite.

2: A stronger focus on single player content. If Ultimate was critiqued for anything, it was its single player content. Most people didn’t like World of Light and Spirits in general for being repetitive, bland, and generally not being Subspace or trophies, all for a collection of PNGs without so much as a description of who/what they are. The game didn’t even have Home Run Contest at launch! Obviously everyone on wants a new story mode like Subspace, but even ignoring that, there’s way more single player content they could do.

3: A total genre shift. This is probably my most out there idea. What if we got a Smash branded spinoff game that was like, I dunno, an RPG or rail shooter or fucking cooking game or something. It’ll probably never happen but like. C’mon. What if.

[firestorm09890]

FUCK what I said about the majority of significant changes to dialogue in Re:CoM being to adjust Axel's characterization, the most egregious change is actually this

(GBA CoM)

(Re:CoM)

if I had to guess, the reason for this change was because in GBA CoM, The Superior was a spooky, unknown being at the head of this Organization we had very little knowledge on, and for Vexen, the guy who runs his mouth constantly about how much better he is than the others, to be terrified of him, he must be some pretty scary dude. But then after kh2 we know him, it's Xemnas, he's very dramatic, he likes to talk to the moon, and the effect of your mind filling in the gaps about what "The Superior" must be like is gone. So it wasn't really necessary anymore, right?

(rest under cut because it's long)

Except... the way they changed it is so weird. In the GBA version, what's happening is pretty clear:

Marluxia tells Vexen that his project is a failure

Vexen demonstrates that he does not give a shit about Marluxia's opinion

he does care very much about The Superior's opinion, though, and Marluxia uses this to blackmail him into eliminating Sora- an action which is nonsensical, as the entire point of what they're doing needs Sora alive, making it clear to everyone in the room that he is deliberately sending Vexen to die

and then after that, when Vexen shows up to fight Sora, he goes "if you want to fight me for real you've gotta do it in the memories from the other side of your heart lol bye" and Sora goes "huh? other side?" and then it cuts to a scene on the top floor:

and then this gets more into subtext but here, Vexen has realized he's totally fucked and his only hope is to mess directly with Marluxia's plans (well, they were the Organization's plans, but it's pretty obvious by now Marluxia's abusing his power for his own purposes) by giving Sora more information than he should know. This does get the traitor gang worried enough to send Axel to go kill him (as opposed to just letting Sora take care of him, which was presumably the original plan)- he very specifically cuts Vexen off to keep him from saying too much (this is retained between the original and the remake)

Anyway, what happens in Re:CoM sort of follows the same order of events, but everything is changed slightly in a way that just makes things more confusing.

Marluxia tells Vexen his project is a failure and Vexen demonstrates that he doesn't give a shit about Marluxia's opinion, as before

Marluxia threatens Vexen with a weapon, rather than threatening to tell the Superior

this, notably, does not seem to faze Vexen very much. he continues to run his mouth while having the scythe pointed at him.

Xemnas is still leveraged- Marluxia points out it was the Superior who entrusted him with the castle

...even though reasonably Vexen would already be aware of this, and has still demonstrated that he has zero respect for Marluxia despite it

the lines about betraying the Organization being a capital crime are retained, probably because it's super relevant later, but then that line of thinking is abandoned in favor of Marluxia and Larxene just taunting Vexen instead

The part where Marluxia says "do it. you won't" could be seen as a sort of threat... if not for Axel's line: "You give a challenge like that to Vexen and he'll seriously want to eliminate Sora." It frames it all as though Vexen went to fight Sora out of some sort of pride.

And look, Vexen may have a temper and a superiority complex, but he's not stupid. They're obviously baiting him. Plus, what happened to him seeing himself as above the others and countering things he doesn't like with "well actually I'm higher ranked than you and also you're an idiot"? Is he that insecure in his fighting capabilities? I could deal with characterization changes doing him dirty if it didn't also make no sense in the context of the plot.

So now we have Vexen going to try to kill Sora, something that really makes no sense to do, out of pride. What was the purpose of sending Sora to Twilight Town? Also pride, over the fact that he managed to get that information? Giving the writing the benefit of the doubt, I could say that these nonsensical actions can be explained as evidence that Nobodies can have hearts and people with hearts do strange and rash things, but that just feels like a reach, which is bad because what they had in GBA CoM worked perfectly fine and made sense without any reaching for the "idk emotions make you do strange things" explanation.

It continues. After Vexen gives Sora the Twilight Town card in Re:CoM and Sora wonders about what the "other side" means, this is that version of the conversation the top floor members have:

...what? "If Sora disappears, that would mess up the Organization's plans"? what are you worried about? the only reason Sora would disappear is if Vexen killed him. there's no way they think Vexen being in Twilight Town would give him an advantage, right? they know he's a pathetic fighter. "Vexen has clearly committed a treasonous act against the Organization" HOW? HOW IS IT CLEAR? they don't express any worry about Sora learning too much, up until Axel says "I came to stop you from talking too much" when killing Vexen- and that being there makes it seem like they were worried about Sora learning to much, but if that's the case, why would they replace the perfectly serviceable lines in the above scene? it's just... baffling that they would want to lean into the narrative that Vexen going to kill Sora (which he'd been goaded into doing) is the problem here, because it just makes so little sense compared to what it was originally.

once again giving them the benefit of the doubt: Marluxia's real plan was to take over the Organization, and he saw an easy way to pick off one of the members, so he took it. the motive for stopping Vexen doesn't actually matter.

buuuuut it's the same as with Vexen earlier. Marluxia may be too self-absorbed and power-hungry to notice Axel is scheming against him, but he, too, is an intelligent man. he's plotted for a while, getting into Xemnas's good graces in order to be put in charge of the Castle. this is incredibly sloppy for him. I guess it could be said that getting so close to his goal would make him sloppy, but again, if they'd just left things the way they were in GBA CoM, I wouldn't even have to be saying this

in conclusion: GBA Chain of Memories' intra-Organization strife subplot is so tightly woven with calculated moves on all sides that Re:CoM changing certain things without taking into consideration the consequences makes certain parts of the plot fall flat and become far more confusing than in the original story

[synergysilhouette]

Making Netflix's ATLA an AU instead of a strict remake: some changes I'd make to Book 1

It's my personal opinion that since ATLA was great as-is, it didn't need a remake (even if it is underrated). But if Netflix was gonna make one anyway, I'd prefer they made it an AU and make significant changes without marketing this as "this is exactly like the show you enjoyed as kids/teens." (Note: Possibly controversial changes below)

Sexism against male waterbenders because of Kuruk--Due to what is viewed as a "failure" on Kuruk's part to properly manage his duties as avatar and his spiritual corruption, male waterbenders are believed to lack the necessarily gentleness and spirituality in order to bend properly, with combat or healing. Given how Harun was removed (at least from season 1), he could've been rewritten as a waterbender here, with Pakku as his uncle, who still holds onto tradition, even if it holds him back. Due to being male AND the Avatar, Aang isn't taught waterbending at the North Pole while Katarra is, and she teaches Aang in secret with Pakku's help, which inspires Harun to learn as well. Eventually when he's found out, he and Harun are banished from the tribe (because beliefs can't be changed in a day or two). The sexism also fuels Sokka's inferiority complex; while male waterbenders are seen as lacking control, Sokka's lack of bending at all is seen as a loss of water tribe culture in the south and since the north has much more waterbenders, his role as a non-bending warrior is kind of reduced.

More focus on the Water Tribe--The idea is supposed to be that waterbenders were wiped out, but I do like the idea that we still explore aspects of Water Tribe culture, as well as making the territory larger. Given the fact that most of book 1 takes place in different regions and the Netflix remake kinda condensed things, I do want more episodes to take place in WT territory. Kyoshi Island for example is an EK territory, but is also close to the Southern Air Temple and the Southern Water Tribe, so their culture could be shown as more mixed, maybe even with some hidden waterbenders there. Another (albeit controversial) idea could be introducing Bumi in book 2 before introducing Toph, given that Omashu and Gaoling aren't super far from Each other. We could also introduce Hama here to share more of the SWT culture and introduce the concept of bloodbending much earlier so it's a conflict for Katara throughout the whole series. Perhaps maybe even adapt "The Swamp" episode in this season, since I'm not entirely sure it'll be made in the next season.

Ozai's psychology is explored more--In both the OG show and the remake, he's presented as the pinnacle of evil at a first glance, but that's not completely true. Just like everyone else, he's complex, with his evil being brought about by his upbringing. He isn't trying to rule just because; he truly sees it as his divine right, which makes his persuasiveness that much more powerful. He isn't quite as aggressive as other fire nation antagonists and relies more on his manipulation and charisma. As such, he's good and making people fear him, love him, and second-guess themselves. The remake had Zhao and Azula take him for a joke, tbh, so that would need to be fixed. I'd also make him more acrobatic and agile like Azula rather than just a hard-hitter, and he essentially tells Zuko the half-truth of Ursa's banishment, making it seemed like she killed Azulon and was planning on killing Ozai and Iroh next so that she could have the throne. In reality, Azulon died of natural causes, but Ozai made it appear as though he was murdered in order to frame Ursa. When she confronted him, he banished her and told her to stay gone in order to stop influencing their children. In fact, keeping with her storyline in the comics, Ursa does change her appearance, and Zuko meets with her several times throughout the series (removing the amnesia stuff here).

Lu Ten is alive (for a while)--Something I'd enjoy seeing for a minute would be evil Iroh. Let's say Ozai managed to best him in an agni kai for the throne (inspiring Zuko to do this with Azula later on), and Iroh volunteers to go with Zuko on his journey with the hopes of turning him against his father. With time, he develops affection for his nephew and becomes a better father than Ozai was. He believes Lu Ten won't be a threat to Ozai since he now has the throne, but Ozai sends him to help with the Siege of Ba Sing Se, where he ultimately loses his life. This puts Iroh at the crossroads of destiny like Zuko, but he chooses to defend Team Avatar instead. During his imprisonment in the Fire Nation, Iroh tries to calm the turmoil in Zuko's heart, which confuses Zuko due to Iroh's previous speeches and proverbs about power and triumph over his enemies. And I'd also make a rather odd change: both Lu Ten and Iroh are skilled in chi blocking. I definitely feel like Iroh would be well-versed in the art and teach it to his son.

More emphasis on Avatar Roku and Sozin's friendship. Seeing how Roku is Aang's past life and his friendship with Sozin was part of what led to the Hundred Year War, it should definitely take more precedence outside of book 3.

Iroh is Aang's first firebending teacher--This is super weird, I know, but if we're not gonna have Jeong Jeong, I like the idea that while evil (at first), Iroh is still super wise, and does give Aang a few tips on firebending, which he tries on his own, but lacking guidance he burns Katara (or Sokka; it'd feed into his insecurities as a non-bender if he gets hurt and Katara heals him).

Sokka/Zuko and Katara/Azula rivalry--I remember a video once explaining how Sokka and Katara are parallels of Zuko and Azula, given that their mom was gone at an early age and their father influenced them greatly. The big brother wants his father's love and is insecure, while the little sister seems more powerful and has issues regarding her mom. The big difference is that Ozai was a manipulative father while Hakoda was compassionate. In my revision, Zuko wouldn't take Sokka seriously at first since he's a non-bender, highlighting Sokka's concern of being useless, and his growth would make Zuko feel more insecure in turn. Eventually when Zuko joins the team, they often work together. Azula is rational and a prodigy while Katara is emotional and still learning, but Katara gains confidence while Azula loses it. Just like Zuko, Katara sees it as her mission to stop Azula and sees the pain she goes through. I would also gives Azula a bit more frustrated moments to highlight her youth; a lot of people say she's beyond redemption despite only being 14 and the victim of growing up in an emotionally abusive environment.

[natlacentral]

'I've got to pinch myself': Paul Sun-Hyung Lee on playing Iroh in 'Avatar: The Last Airbender'

Presumably the people outside a local car dealership a couple of years ago who heard Paul Sun-Hyung Lee let out a “huge whoop” during a phone call with his agent didn't fully grasp the significance of that celebratory sound.

The Toronto actor beloved as the internet’s “Appa” thanks to “Kim’s Convenience” and a popular part of the “Star Wars” universe, too, was about to become the internet’s favourite uncle.

Lee had landed the role of Uncle Iroh in “Avatar: the Last Airbender,” Netflix’s much anticipated live-action reimagining of a well loved animated series (not to be confused with James Cameron’s “Avatar” films).

“Honestly, I have moments where I think I’ve got to pinch myself because, even as a youngster, I never would have believed that I could be a part of these things, because I never saw anybody who looked like me reflected in any of these shows,” the Korean Canadian actor said, reflecting on his roles in “Airbender” and the “Star Wars” spinoffs “The Mandalorian” and “Ahsoka,” in which he plays the popular Captain Carson Teva.

As Iroh in “Airbender,” Lee has stepped into the robes of another fan favourite character.

First, a bit of a primer: “Avatar: The Last Airbender,” which debuts Thursday, is about a 12-year-old boy, the “Avatar” of the title, on a quest to save the world from the rapacious Fire Nation, which has gone to war with the Earth, Water and Air peoples. Despite his youth, Avatar Aang (played by Vancouver actor Gordon Cormier) is a powerful “bender,” honing his ability to manipulate air, water, earth and fire.

Aang and his friends — Katara, a water bender (played by Indigenous Canadian Kiawentiio), and her brother, Sokka (American actor Ian Ousley) — are being hunted by fire bender Prince Zuko (American Dallas Liu), who’s accompanied by his wise and compassionate Uncle Iroh, himself a fire bender and a former Fire Nation general.

If that all sounds kind of geeky, well, that’s right up Lee’s alley.

The 51-year-old has well-established nerd bona fides as a fan of “Star Wars” and other science fiction (he shares his love of the genre on his Bitterasiandude Inc. YouTube channel). He caught up with the original “Avatar: The Last Airbender” (which aired on Nickelodeon from 2005 to 2008, then moved to Netflix) while he was still working on the CBC comedy “Kim’s Convenience” (2016-21), in which he played a South Korean immigrant who runs a convenience store in Toronto. 

In 2018, as new fans were discovering “Kim’s” worldwide after the series moved to Netflix, the streaming giant announced its remake of “Airbender,” setting in motion Lee's ascent into another dream role. 

“Almost immediately I got fan casted (as Iroh) by all these people on the internet,” Lee said in a Zoom interview. “I was very, very flattered, but I was doing ‘Kim’s.’”

A few years later, though, “Kim’s” had ended and Lee got an audition for what was billed as a basketball movie called “Blue Dawn,” as a coach who had come out of retirement to guide his nephew.

Although he’s “more of a baseball, hockey guy,” Lee taped the audition and then forgot about it, until a callback a couple of months later. Except now, the retired basketball coach Howard was named Iroh.

“There’s only one Iroh that I know of,” said Lee. “And so I remember thinking, ‘Oh my God, this is for “Avatar”’ … right away I got super nervous. The stakes went up and I really wanted this part.”

But, after doing a chemistry read with Liu and not hearing anything for a couple of weeks, Lee assumed he had missed out on the role, which is part of the lot of an actor … until his agent called just as Lee and his wife were about to sign a lease on a new vehicle.

“So I excused myself, leaving the salesman completely befuddled. I went outside and that’s when I learned that I landed the role. And immediately let out this huge whoop. I had forgotten that I was in a public area and there were lots of people outside, and they all suddenly looked at me and I said, ‘It’s OK. It’s good news. It’s great news.’”

There was one more hurdle to overcome, though. 

“Airbender,” which shoots in Vancouver, overlapped Lee’s schedule for “The Mandalorian,” which films in Los Angeles. And playing Iroh meant shaving off the middle part of the moustache that Lee sports as Captain Teva.

“Luckily I was able to have my cake and eat it at the same time,” said Lee. “Lucasfilm was like, ‘Oh, we’ll just build him a little fake moustache to put on while he’s shooting (“The Mandalorian”).’”

Lee isn’t certain how familiar the producers of “Airbender” were with his work on “Kim’s Convenience” — it's an established fact that “Mandalorian” producer and director Dave Filoni was a “Kim’s” fan before he cast Lee — but he considers his latest job to be another of the many blessings accruing from the CBC series.

“‘Kim’s Convenience’ was such a wonderful launching pad for my career,” Lee said. “I mean, that show was kind of my coming out party in terms of the film and TV world.”

Lee, who was born in South Korea but immigrated to Canada with his parents when still an infant, struggled to find good film and TV roles as a young actor in the 1990s and early aughts. 

After graduating from drama school at the University of Toronto, he did a lot of theatre work, but onscreen “I played a lot of doctors, a lot of store clerks, a lot of window dressing-type caricatures, not characters.”

And yet, he persisted. 

Despite not seeing himself reflected in the television he devoured as a kid and from which he developed his love of storytelling, “I thought, well, heck, if there’s nobody (else Asian) out there, maybe there’s a shot for me to get in … that was kind of foolish thinking because maybe you’re the only one because a lot of people have tried and haven’t been able to get through. But I was just too stupid and too stubborn to quit, so just kept at it.”

Now Lee hopes to provide inspiration for the young Asian actors coming up behind him.

On the set of “Airbender,” which has many Asian actors in its cast, Lee became particularly close with Liu, the 22-year-old Chinese-Indonesian-American actor playing his beloved nephew. Just as Iroh is protective of Zuko, for whom he becomes a surrogate father, Lee said he wanted to nurture Liu.

“Every chance that I got to just sort of give him little pearls of wisdom based on my experiences … I couldn’t help but want to see him succeed,” Lee said. “This kid is a superstar,” he added.

Now that Lee himself is part of two much-loved pop culture franchises, “my cup runneth over,” but he still has entries on his acting bucket list.

“Not to sound greedy, but I’d love to do ‘Star Trek’ because that's filming right in our backyard. I’d love to do a ‘Ghostbusters.’ All those geeky playgrounds I never got a chance to play in. I want to be in a rom-com. I want to be in a Western, the genres that I grew up watching …

“But I’ll take it as it comes and I’m grateful for what I have. And if this is the only thing I ever do again I will be thankful for it because a lot of people don’t get these opportunities.”

[heinousactszx]

the oracle games are kind of incredible in retrospect. 2 fully fledged zelda games releasing on the exact same day, and despite many people's belief (myself included) that it was a pokemon type deal with minor differences, the truth is that they're two similar but entirely distinct adventures. they honestly feel ahead of their time in some ways, especially with the concept of a linked game. it's an idea that exists in more modern systems, but for the game boy to pull off that level of inter-connectivity is pretty incredible, even if it's also a bit overwhelming. if i was a kid i'm sure i would have dug into every last secret the game has to offer, and it has many for sure.

the stories are fairly good, for what they are, you're rescuing the damsel as always, which is definitely tired, but the towns and other locations you visit have a lot of charm to them, and the trade side quests encourage you to visit everywhere you can. the story of a linked game is also cool because of twinrova's shenanigans, and i love that the resurrection is botched for ganon, but also that twinrova was clearly doing it for love of their son and not for power, because they would not have sacrificed themselves otherwise. it's cool that they borrowed so much from ocarina to recreate in 8-bit

the differences between the two games are pretty significant when you actually play them, even though they share the same graphics, many items, movement, enemies, etc. the puzzles in ages really force you to think out of the box. my ages playtime is almost 5 hours longer than seasons because of the puzzles. meanwhile seasons is more straightforward in that it lets you have moe free reign over the world while giving you some more involved fights instead. that said, seasons has plenty of great puzzles, and ages has fun battles and a good amount to discover. both games are equally good, although if i have to pick, i think i'd go with seasons (sorry solarsyrup!). it's just because of the seasons gimmick and because i love the magnetic gloves so much. those things need to be in every single zelda game. fours swords doesn't count

that said, the games aren't without faults. the combat can really frustrated you, both because link has almost no invincibility and because movement can be too sensitive at times. a few of the bosses (onox especially) can feel straight up unfair, as do some of the puzzles where one screwup can cost you a significant amount of time in backtracking. playing without savestates seems like it'd be much more of a chore. the games do feel held back by being on the game boy, both because of the screen size and because there's just not enough buttons for some of the complexity the game wants you to do. if grezzo were to remake these games in the link's awakening remake engine like it's been rumored, i think it would be very welcome

still, it's all minor complaints at the end of the day. it's hard to call any zelda game "slept on", but the oracle games do feel somewhat overlooked in the grand scheme of the series. both of them are absolutely worth your time

up next, none other than my favorite, the one and only, the best zelda game ever made. a link between worlds

(after a break, because i've played so much 2d zelda in the past two weeks)

[burst-of-iridescent]

atla live action thoughts: episode 6

SPOILERS AHEAD

tw: opinions

things i liked:

love the moment where roku tells aang friends can be a liability and you can see in his face that he's thinking of sozin

koh lore is interesting. funnily enough i've also written koh being the son of the mother of faces in a fic before so i see netflix has been hitting up ao3

(for legal reasons, that was a joke)

i like zhao forcing zuko to turn aang over more than him capturing aang with the yuyan archers himself like in the original. this 100% feels like something animated zhao would do and it really drives home how much of a disadvantage zuko's at. this is the dynamic i wanted to see between the two of them

lmao @ zhao wanting to get every detail of his capture of the avatar in writing, and aang blowing air at him to send him falling over himself. they pulled that right from the original and it's great

BLUE SPIRIT TIME BABY

this fight (well the parts of it that i can see) is SO GOOD. pretty sure it's almost a shot for shot remake of the original and zuko and aang are working together seamlessly

oh i fucking LOVE that zuko and aang are trapped together and get to talk. zuko smiling despite himself... aang trying so earnestly to get through to him... the way zuko actually seems to be listening to him before he hears the word compassion... chef's kiss this was an INSPIRED change

"do you think we could've been friends too?"

the transitions from younger, happier zuko to older, traumatized zuko are fucking painful. the one where he looks into the mirror to see his unscarred, smiling self for just a moment before it flashes to his present reality... next time just shoot me netflix

"he will recover" "but he will never heal"

young zuko lying in bed sobbing as he's banished by his own father what if i killed myself

HIS CREW BEING THE 41st DIVISION HE LOST EVERYTHING TO PROTECT whichever writer suggested that needs a raise posthaste

"our prince" who is cutting all of these fucking onions

things i disliked/am conflicted about:

this is where the show suffers as an adaptation, because if the animation didn't exist, the agni kai would've been fine. zuko trying to dodge, having the chance to hurt ozai yet actively choosing not to out of love, being beaten up, pinned down and brutally burned as he whimpers in fear - all of that works on its own. it conveys zuko's compassion and ozai's brutality just fine, but not to the level that the cartoon does. the scene is brutal in both versions but animated zuko not even trying to fight, sobbing and begging on his knees, and being maimed anyway just hits harder than the netflix version

not sure if i saw it right but it seemed as though there were tears in ozai and azula's eyes??? i can maybe see it for this version of azula but in no world would ozai be crying over burning zuko. it feels like they're trying to make this version of ozai more complex but he was FINE as a classic villain

that being said, i do like ozai holding zuko's hand to his heart as he burns him. the symbolism of zuko trying to reach for his father's love while ozai permanently brands his cruelty on his son... ate

i don't even like roku in the animation all that much but his presence has been weirdly reduced in the show, even though he's the avatar aang is closest to. aang having to take on the burden of redeeming roku's failure is a significant part of their dynamic and i want more of that

hollywood i'm begging you to shoot night scenes that people can see because parts of the blue spirit and aang fight sequence were so dark i looked like the squinting lady meme

i really wish we'd still gotten the moment in the storm where zuko saved the helmsman. i know they kinda replaced it with the crew realizing they were only alive because of zuko's sacrifice, but they could've done both to show how much zuko still cares, even if he can't show it

how are we 3/4th of the way into the season and aang is STILL ONLY BENDING AIR

overall rating: 9/10. definitely the best of the series so far and i love how they expanded on zuko's backstory and his relationship to aang

[starryalpacasstuff]

A Gay Korean Musical? My youtube fyp knows me so well

Today, my youtube fyp popped up with something interesting

A gay korean musical? Naturally, I had to know more.

I did some digging (most of which was simply letting the youtube algorithm do it's thing—it's usually annoying but rather useful for these purposes) and it's called Bare the Musical, and it actually appears to be a remake of an American musical of the same name (although there's apparently two version, Bare: a pop opera and Bare the musical. I do not know what the difference is, but tumblr is telling me it is significant).

Though there's no subtitles for the performances, I could gather that the story seems to be about two boys in high school who are secretly dating, one of whom is popular while the other is a loner, the latter feeling pushed away and insecure at times. It also seemed to me that religion plays a role in the whole story. And according to the internet, it seems I'm mostly right. Article about it is here and the original american musical does have a fandom on tumblr, which I surfed briefly.

However. HOWEVER. The play ends sadly, with one of the main leads dying. The bury your gays trope continues to haunt us. I honestly cannot concisely explain my disappointment when I found out, although I wasn't particularly surprised. So there's that. I don't know the plot of the musical so I'm not able to judge whether the ending was appropriate, but it was a bit of a let down regardless.

Something interesting is that the musical premiered back in 2015 (I think?), and it seems to be still going, like there's clips of it from a couple of months ago, having changed casts multiple times, which is pretty standard for musicals from what I know. While I don't know much about musical lifespans and stuff, this does imply that the play has enough traction in Korea for it to be revived multiple times over, which is intriguing, I suppose.

Anyways, I don't know much about anything surrounding this topic at all, but I thought I'd share, and if you have any insights, please do add on! More clips below (they're all fairly wholesome, I didn't find any of the darker ones and I'm not particularly inclined to go looking). They are rather delightful, so I do recommend checking a few out.

Practice clip from the official channel of the company

Performance clip of the song in the practice

Another song

One more for fun! It's the longest one I found

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Cold Comfort: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: You meet another psychic on a case that doesn’t want to work with you, and everyone’s faith is tested on exactly what you can do.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

The three victims found are Annette Hagen, the first, Erin Bonham, the second, and Melissa Claire, the recent one. The only one who is still out there is Brooke, but you know she is still alive. All three victims were embalmed, but they all died of blood loss.

That means they were alive when they were embalmed.

Tox screens show significant levels of Barbiturate which is a heavy sedative to the point where someone can become unconscious. All three women were found with the same haircut even though they were taken with much longer hair, which means the unsub cut it. Another thing the unsub has done to them was pierce their ear so that they all have double piercings.

None of them were sexually abused since there has been no tearing or bruising, but the ME did find trace amounts of semen.

The unsub had sex with their bodies after they died.

You don't want to pressure Sandra into making a decision on who she wants to work on the case, so you head back to the station where you're needed.

"Hotch," you say and he excuses himself from talking to someone, "I just talked to Stanely and he refuses to work with me."

"Don't bring him in, Aaron," Rossi backs you up. "Y/N is here. She's proven she can take care of things."

"We won't bring him in," Hotch shrugs.

"I just spoke to the families," JJ walks into the room. "None of the victims had double-pierced ears at the time of their abduction."

"He's changing them."

"Into what?" Derek asks.

"Not what," you say, "it's who. The burial suggests an affection for his victims, which says he might be remaking them into the image of a loved one."

"The ME found high traces of Barbiturate, right?" JJ asks.

"Yeah, why?"

"It's something the psychic said. Brooke felt tired and heavy."

"Why are we talking about the psychic? It's a scam. These guys talk without saying anything and you fall for it."

"Is it so wrong to want to believe?" JJ argues.

"JJ, you know the profile. A necrophiliac has no use for a live victim."

"Can I talk to you?" you ask Rossi. You pull Rossi off to the side away from everyone else. "If there is a small part of you that believes what I can do, doesn't that mean you should believe in what other people can do? Not all psychics are frauds."

"You've proven to me you know what you're doing."

"I understand that, but you're limiting yourself by not giving people the benefit of the doubt. You did it with me."

"You kind of forced it on me."

"Yeah, I did," you chuckle, "but that doesn't mean it's not true."

"What did you read about him?"

"Stanley is mostly right with his ability. There are things that are so obvious that he can pick up, but he's not as strong as me. I read between the lines, he sees what's right in front of him. He puts the puzzle together and guesses, and because of that, he was named a fraud. He thought he could get away with it."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

"I'm just theorizing. I make mistakes too, Rossi."

Rossi is already walking away and calling Penelope. He won't listen to reason, but you have more important things to do like give the profile. Detective Ron Fullwood gathers his men and women to hear what your team has to say.

"By now we know the DNA found on the victims did not match anyone in the system, so we're gonna have to look beyond physical evidence to identify the killer," Hotch begins. "Our unsub is a white male in his mid to late twenties with a lot of money. He lives alone in a large residence. There's enough space and ventilation to accommodate an embalming suite. He's awkward with people, especially with women. An inability to relate socially is common in homicidal necrophiles."

"Because of the alterations to the bodies, we believe the unsub is attempting to recreate a woman he once loved. Like a girlfriend, wife, or mother. Someone who left or died suddenly."

"This projection of the loved one coupled with his need to preserve the victims through embalming is similar to the psychopathology of serial murderer Ed Gein," Spencer explains. "Gein had an oedipal complex which developed in the years he nursed his paralyzed mother back from a stroke. After she died, his obsession compelled him to dig up the corpses of women who resembled his mother. He was so persistent to resurrect his dead mother, he actually dressed in female suits fashioned from human skin. Eventually, Gein grew unhappy with the flesh of dead bodies, which had a tendency to dry and crack. So, he shifted his focus to live victims whose bodies he could better preserve."

"The evolution from dead to live victims will also be mirrored in our unsub's maturation. We've put together a list of incident reports prior to 2006. You're gonna want to follow up on these. They are inappropriate postmortem conduct, cadaver theft, and graveyard disturbances," Emily says.

"Sixty percent of necrophiles work in the death business, so be sure to canvass local cemeteries, mortuaries, and morgues. Since we have the killer's DNA, we're gonna be sending you out with kits to swab potential suspects."

"The odds of finding Brooke Lombardini alive are slim, but the quicker we identify the killer, the better her chances are. For her sake, let's work fast."

Everyone broke into teams of two to go around the area and talk to different suspects, different MEs, and anyone else who might have information on the case. You're paired with Hotch and you walk into the third ME office that afternoon. You didn't get anything with the other MEs but hopefully, this one has information. When you explained the situation to her, about someone defiling corpses, she wasn't that surprised.

"I won't lie. It happens in the industry, and we put a stop to it when it does."

"You don't report it to the police?"

"We like to keep that kind of thing quiet."

"A killer is dressing up his dead victims and violating them. Maybe quiet isn't the best way to go," you say.

"He dresses them up?"

"Does that mean something to you?"

"We hired an apprentice a while back. He's an odd guy even for this business. I didn't like the attention he paid the female cadavers. I came to find out he liked to do their makeup and put a wig on them and such."

"Can you describe the wig to me?"

"I can do you one better. I have the wig he used on the females." The ME brings you over to the box they have with the wig. "We cleaned out his locker after his termination. He never came back for it. Imagine that."

"I need this man's name."

Ivan Bakunas lives close to where he used to work, so you and Hotch head over there immediately. Detective Fullwood wants to come along to catch this guy since he promised Sandra that he'd find her daughter alive. If this man truly killed the three victims, then you will be able to feel them on him. This either could go very well or not well at all. You knock on the door and Ivan answers. He keeps the door cracked open slightly as if he's nervous or scared for someone to see what's inside his house.

Just from one look at him, you know he didn't kill those women. You've seen the bodies, and his energy doesn't match up to the energy left on them.

"Ivan Bakunas?"

"Yes. Can I help you?" he stutters.

"You could invite us inside. It's a little cold out here."

"I can't. Mother's sleeping."

"We're investigating a series of murders in the area. We believe the killer works in your field."

"You're kidding. Do I know him?"

"You might. His victims are just your type with blond hair and blue skin," Hotch accuses.

"You're suggesting I'm some kind of murderer? You are way out of line."

"So, you wouldn't object to giving us a sample of your DNA?"

"No."

"We can get a warrant."

"I think I've said all I'm gonna say."

He shuts the door in your face since he refuses to talk to you further.

"He didn't do it, Hotch. He's an icky person, yes, but he's not our killer. His energy doesn't match up to the ones I found on the bodies."

"Are you a psychic?" Ron asks.

"Yes, a better one than Stanley is." You look at Hotch. "It'll hurt a little bit if you don't believe me at this point in our relationship."

Hotch believes you one hundred percent, but he still has Penelope look into him. If he's a killer for other women you haven't found, then you can kill two birds with one stone. By the time you get to the police station, Penelope has some dirt on Ivan.

"Did you find anything on Ivan?" Emily asks.

"Nothing in juvie, but he was expelled from Evergreen State for sexually assaulting his girlfriend. He was slipping her tranquilizers and having sex with her while she slept."

"That qualifies."

"Between that and the wig, we should be able to persuade a judge," Ron says.

"Listen, Ivan is icky, and he's done stuff he should definitely be arrested for, but he didn't kill these women."

"How do you know?"

"You won't understand."

You look at Hotch for backup, and this time, he stands up for you.

"Detective, Y/N has been with us for years. She's helped catch killers and save victims plenty of times by using her abilities. I'm not gonna stand in your way if you want to serve a warrant on Bakunas, but I think you're wasting your time."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Alongside Y/N, we profiled a man of means. According to his tax records, Bakunas hasn't held down a job since he graduated college. He lives with his mother and doesn't have a car. The embalming equipment and the drugs aren't cheap."

"Look, this guy likes to get it on with dead people. If that's not probable cause, I don't know what is."

"Hotch," JJ interrupts, "a 911 operator just got a distress call from someone claiming to be Brooke."

You follow JJ into a conference room where she has a recording of the 911 call Penelope sent in. Brooke's mom is also in the room so she can identify her daughter's voice.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hello?" Brooke whispers.

"Can you speak up, ma'am?"

"No. He'll hear me. This is Brooke Lombardini. Please, I need help."

"Where are you calling from, ma'am?"

"I'm being held prisoner."

"Okay, ma'am. Can you look outside? Can you see a street name or an address?"

"Please... I think he's gonna kill me. Please help me."

The call ends there like Brooke hung up abruptly since the unsub came to check on her.

"That's her. That's Brooke," Sandra says.

"You're certain? She's barely audible. Any surveillance expert will tell you it's almost impossible to positively identify a whisper."

"You think I don't know my own daughter's voice?"

"Why would someone who was not Brooke call 911 and say they were?" Ron asks.

"Sometimes people get off injecting themselves into the story. You've been on TV now and that could bring out a lot of sick individuals."

"Stanley said she was alive. This proves it."

"Ma'am, Stanley isn't reliable. He has a vested interest in telling you that your daughter is alive," you say.

"Do you have a vested interest in telling me that she's not?"

"He has a record, ma'am," Rossi says. "I had a colleague look into it. Usher was charged with fraud in Oregon before he moved here."

"I need my baby to be alive."

"Listen to me, Sandra," you interject. "I'm not Stanley, but I am more than happy to help you out. I don't have a record, I am not a fraud, and I am the real deal. I want to help you find your daughter just as much as you want her to be alive. Let me give you hope."

She looks around the room at everyone before moving closer to you.

"You better find her alive. I'm placing my faith in you now."

She leaves the room and everyone inside is speechless. They all stare at you as if you promised to move mountains.

"I'll find her alive," you promise.

"The only reason I have so much faith in you is because you've proven yourself that this is real," Hotch says. "You can do things others think are impossible. What is your true and honest opinion about Brooke?"

"I believe she's alive. Her mother is her anchor, and I can feel her through Sandra. I feel her alive."

"Alright," Emily gets back on track, "the 911 call came from a disposable cell. There's no ID but they traced it to the nearest tower. That narrows it down to a twenty-mile radius just southeast of Seattle."

"That's a densely populated area. Were they able to triangulate?"

"Garcia tried to ping the phone, but it was already dead. The unsub probably turned it off when he found her with it."

"What do we think?" Hotch asks. "Why is the unsub keeping Brooke alive? How long do we think she has until he kills her?"

"Maybe he needs them alive to effect their transformation."

"I don't think so. The change in the hair, makeup, and pierced ears would only take a few hours. He's had her for almost five days."

"Maybe it's about something more than just appearance. Maybe it's something deeper. On the phone, she made it sound like she was being locked up, and she sounded drugged. These are control mechanisms used in cases of sexual slavery and mind control. It's brainwashing."

"So, he's trying to break her down and make her surrender her identity. That's what he's waiting for. That's the version of them he wants to hold onto. The longer she holds out, the longer she stays alive, and as soon as she accepts her new role, her fate is sealed."

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