#which is techinally correct | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

demon-blood-youths · 2 days ago

Text

||The vampire's curse: Chapter Ten||

Hi everyone. This is the latest entry to the drabble series started by @the-silver-peahen-residence. Muses present in this series are ours! Review the previous parts if you'd like to get caught up. This is a short drabble. ||Chapter list||

Chapters 1-7 (Click here)

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

((Your reading chapter 9 right now))

----- Summary ----

After the incident involving Hana, the members of Oda are trying to deal with the incident. Rioto is stuck with a dilemma. Kisho helps Miko in a way he knows how.

-----

Rioto sighs to himself as he is on the bed. He can't believe that he can't go to the blood drive because of what happened. He thinks back to the conversation that he had with Junpei regarding the news.

---- Hours earlier ---

"It's getting worse...I think I might need to go Nagoya to help Makou out." Junpei said. Rioto frowns, "But..."

"Classes can wait, Rioto. Sooner or later, the campus might go into lockdown or want us to leave if it gets worse." He said. Rioto nods, Junpei is right.

"If that's the case...then go. Be careful, alright?"

"You know me." Junpei smiles. "After all...Makou is going to stress himself out if he gets seriously overworked. Someone is gotta watch over Hana and other members of Oda."

Rioto smiles, "Yeah. That's why you're a good vice general. Let me know if there's anything."

"Understood. I hope things go well with Yuta!" Junpei smiles. "And don't get so worked about the blood he drinks."

"Oh shut up! JUST GO!" Rioto yells at him, getting a chuckle out of the jellyfish sorcerer before making his leave.

---- Now he's by himself. He turns on his side. He can't blame Makou or Hana for what's going on right now. Damn those cursed vampires. Rioto should come up with a name for them. he's good at names. Wraiths. Nah..too badass. Cursebloods. Yeah, that's a good name! After all, ones who are cursed to become vampires from jujutsu and they differ from normal vampires. This name gives meaning and makes sense.

Of course, he won't call Yuta and his friends that. It could be wrong to say that even if it's techinally correct.

But the problem remains is not feeding Yuta with his blood. Remebering the sensation of him drinking the blood from the cut of his finger. His warm muscle from his mouth moves and sips onto his blood. In a way, he's happy to be a provider.

Rioto sighs, looking on the side, looking out the window while Miryu is levitating right besides him. Then he hears a ping from his phone. He takes his phone and blinks at his eyes, when he got a new message from Yuta.

He reads:

(Text) Hey Rioto. Things have changed. Seems Mr. Ryomen is wanting us to head to our own places but it's only the ones that was cursed. Some have the choice of either staying or going but it's up to them. Whatever choice you make I don't know myself If I'm going or staying here for the missions and all. I still will come for school but you know. Anyway, if you get this text message I'll let you decide.

Rioto reads this to himself, widening his eyes more and more reading. He lowers his phone, now stuck with another decision to make.

---- Back to Oda ----

Nagoya is plagued with many cursed vampire attacks, but it managed to fend all of them off. However, most members of Oda are tired, dealing with this ongoing problem. The latest incident was when a cursed vampire broke into the room that Hana was in, but ended up getting killed brutally. But Hana wasn't herself when she attacked Sakura.

Sakura Haruka, who is with Iku, rubs his arms with his eyes wincing. His leg became jumpy, to which Sakura growled, forcing his leg down, trying to stop it from bouncing. Iku sees this and pats his shoulder, "Hey, you're okay." He said that after he and Sakura got their wounds healed by Makou.

"I know...but still...damnit." Sakura hates being afaird of someone that is a friend. He doesn't know Hana that well but Aikawa and Hina likes her. Hana seems goofy and always offer him melon bread. But seeing her like that...made him frown.

"How's Makochi? BoFurin?" Iku asks.

"Okay...but one of us got infected. You know." Sakura looks over to his friend on the bed. Nirei Akihiko, who became a victim of the infection, is sleeping soundly on the bed. Resting. Sakura is angry with himself as a vice captain, even though...his friends back at Furin tell him it's not his fault. Some are still a little shook, but thanks to your Oda weapons, like those combat gloves and jackets you gave us. We managed to stave them off. We don't know how long, though. I know Moudo, Hayato, and Ritsu are helping us out. Thanks for that." Sakura sighs. "Umemiya wants to say that."

"Good to know. Moudo wanted to check out Makochi and see how you guys doing. Your leader got a big heart and strong will. So we are going to make sure you guys get all the support you need." He said. Hina Hongou and Maki Aikawa returns, both are here when they heard what's going on.

"She's fine." Iku tells them. "Hana is sedated and sleeping for the time being?"

"How much blood does she drank? Did she lose any?" Hina asked.

"Right about eight bags and the cursed vampire she did." He said, crossing his arms. "How things looking at your end?"

"The cursed vampires were troublesome but easy to take care of. Miko help us out." Aikawa answers. Iku nods but then notices that Miko is not with them. "And where is she?" Iku asked with a raised. "Miko with her boyfriend right now!!!" Hina said happily, making iku groan at this news. "Well..whatever...let's focus on a plan here."

----- Miko and Kisho ----

Inside a quiet room, or rahter not-so quiet. A certain flame sorcerer lets out soft moans on the bed with his lovely badger on top of him.

"Ah...." Kisho pants as he grips the ends of his bed while Miko is on top of him and drinking the blood from his neck as he lays there. Kisho is bucking his hips towards her while Miko is grinding her hips down. Miko pulls away, licking her lips before kissing him. A moan is uttered between them. Kisho wraps his arms around her waist and Miko is holding his face.

Both break the kiss, taking a quick breather. A string of saliva and blood between them. They were naked under the covers.

"Feeling better?" Kisho asked her curiously, seeing her eyes glowing red and looking as if to were in a daze.

"Better..." Miko smiles, showing her fangs. Kisho wipes the blood from her lips with a soft smile. After fighting the cursed spirits and some of the vampires, Miko went to Kisho when he visited Nagoya to check up on her. He heard the news involved the incident involving Hana. Kisho makes sure to comfort her while offering his blood to her to replenish her stamina. Not only that, they did their lovemaking on this bed.

Miko lays on down on side, making small imaginary circles on his chest. Kisho want to do more but for now, this is fine. He wants to be there for her. "I heard about Hana."

Miko sighs, "I'm worried. I want to visit her first, but...I was so upset and you were there...not to mention..I was thirsty..." Miko is upset with herself as she wants to find the person who hurt her best friend, but she has become almost drained. Godo thing, Kisho is here.

"Hana is fine. That's all that matters. Oda is looking over her." That's what Junpei tells him when he hears the news when they were passing by. Junpei is on his way to help out with the treatment and such.

"It's fine. Want to go visit her together? I brought extra blood bags in my cooler bag just in case."

----- Tokyo University-----

Rioto is tapping on his foot, looking down at his phone. Looking at Yuta's latest message specifically. He frowns, gripping his arms tightly; he is facing a dilemma right now. He had to take a walk and get a drink of mocha frappcuino with whipped cream and sprinkles from a cafe just to think about it. Yes, it's that bad.

And what is the problem that got him struggling with?

How should I respond to this? Rioto thought to himself, rereading the message again. It's been two hours since Rioto saw the message. Sentence by sentence. Hey Rioto. Things have changed. Seems Mr. Ryomen is wanting us to head to our own places, but it's only the ones that was cursed.

Own places?! What does he mean by that? Does Yuta mean his house? He mentioned cursed ones. So haunted houses? Or is it way to deal with the conditions of being a Curseblood?

Some have the choice of either staying or going, but it's up to them. Whatever choice you make, I don't know myself If I'm going or staying here for the missions and all.

A choice?! So he's asking if he wants to come with him, if Yuta wants to head back to his own place, which is cursed? But he's going to be staying here for the missions and

I still will come for school but you know. Anyway, if you get this text message I'll let you decide.

Let me decide? Rioto thought. He groans, racking his brain now. Decide?! Rioto is confused by this. Now he has to think what would happen if he says yes or no.

If he says no, Yuta will still come, however. He's going on missions. But if he says yes, he can live with Yuta for the time being, helping him and whatnot. Heck, if possible, he can feed him blood. That's good. That way, he won't drink anyone else's blood but his.

The downside?

He needs to control his power when Yuta feeds. Rioto's own power. He trembles at the memory when he almost got eaten or had his blood almost suck out. He shakes his head, "No, no, no. This is Yuta. He's Yuta. He's always Yuta. Always." Rioto tells himself, holding his arms, rubbing them up and down, trying to calm himself.

Yuta. Yuta.

Yuta is very important to him. He doesn't want to endure another stressful period when he doesn't know about Yuta's whereabouts. So the best option will be.

Rioto starts to text him back.

[ Text ] Hey Yuta. Sorry for getting back to you, just finishing up a paper.

That's a lie. He wasn't finishing up a paper. But that's fine. Just a minor lie. He was seriously thinking about what to say in his text until now.

[ Text ] I want to come with you wherever you go, okay? Like I said before, I want to support you. I can even help out in some of missions! :)

He hits send. Now he waits for his answer. Crap, what if he doesn't like the answer? He wonders what Yuta would react to his answer. Would they go to the place that Yuta talks about is cursed? Only for cursed vampires? He wonders what that is. He wants to go to wherever Yuta goes. Maybe he should pack his bags if Yuta wants to take a break from college.

"I wonder...if I can draw my own blood day by day to fill that up. I mean...it wouldn't be a bad idea, right?" Rioto ask himself. If he did anything stupid and reckless that is beyond him, he might get punished by him. But that wouldn't be so bad, right?

Then he hears a ping. He got a message.

He wonders what Yuta's response to his message.

To be continued...

#ic #thesilverpeahenresidence #the vampire's curse drabble #older rioto #older yuta

4 notes · View notes

phlurrii · 2 years ago

Note

With Noe being a techinal MissingNo do they have any glitched moves or abilities? (which is a feature in the games) Or are there any other MissingNo's that interact with Noe?

excluding the weird circular disks with the question marks< this implies to more of the pokemon shaped ones. if not custom ones

They have many! I’ve already showed off he can duplicate items 1-128 times, as well as their anomalous portals/consumption of other anomalies. However, all of their attacks, teleportation, and even typing are affected. The more they delve into their glitch/corruption based abilities, the more their typing will change from Psychic/Ghost to Bird/???

Regarding other creatures like them, as of now they know of no others. All the missingno. glitches found in RBG are part of/same as Noe himself. Ones like the decamark you refer too and bad egg’s many incarnations are either the things Noe eats/removes, or an extension of the world natural way of correcting itself, so far only the bad egg does that. Similarly to how in the games it’ll only appear to cover up or encase corrupted data.

#ask #missingno #glitches #Pokémon glitches #missingno.#Pokémon #red green blue #RGB #gameboy #who knows… maybe one day a bad egg will hatch

19 notes · View notes

prowerprojects · 2 years ago

Note

I'm sure Rouge could, as with other characters. But it comes back to which ones and why? It is her style or required for her line of work? Does she draw the line with specific ones or isn't as skilled with one gadget compared to another?

It's a matter of what the gameplay calls for. (If Tails Adventure and Sky Patrol are anything to go by, a Tails focus game is likely not going to play the same as those who follow Sonic's main gamestyle. If flight the main aspect, the game will focus on that. If gadgets are, it will be on that. Both? A compromise would have to made, but I'm sure they could get it to work.) If you ever heard of "Rachet and Clank", it probably gives a better visual of what I mean for this hypothetical. Spyro too, though more flying than gadgets.

I would say Rouge mainly has experience and stamina over the youngsters; but coming down to what they use their flight capabilities for; Tails being air support and Charmy stated to be a tracker. Plus Charmy does use his stinger and Cream uses Cheese as a projectile. (The fox likely can't beat Rouge toe-to-toe, but I'm sure he'd cause enough trouble for her to not consider him easy pickings next time.) In fairness, we don't really get much time with Prime Tails. {Not the first time a Tails has used a RC device either} It mainly Nine and the other counterparts instead; who live in rather hostile places.

I checked to be sure, and yeah, there is one flight level: The first Speedy boss. There are places to land [in case you get hit], but the stamina bar is completely removed here, as the goal is to get to the top while avoiding Speedy.

Honestly, it's a concept that's not used enough. I can totally buy him coming from the grocery or tool shop, using his tails to carry as much bags and supplies as possible. (Although not techinally the fur, when Nine takes off with the shard; the one Sonic just got absorbed into, you can see it wrapped in his organic tails. So yeah, I say it stands a good chance of coming back.)

You are correct. (Hmm, well, Amy was already shown to throw hammers in Origins.{Which funnily enough again, was shown in X before. The episode Sonic finally comes back from Chris' world.} I say it has a fair shot of sticking. A little less certain with Tails, but I think it could work in Frontiers. Part of me feels that a tweaked version of the Avatar's Wispon gameplay from Forces would fit him well. We'll see what the DLC does for both.)

Hmm, I can buy Tails being interested in history. Especially if it helps him better understand of what's going on at the moment or could be applied later. (Also, I think he just likes learning new things. That being said, it doesn't mean he'll be an expert of something overnight. Hence why he consulted Professor Pickles during Unleashed.)

I feel like the Rouge conversation got a bit away from the point I was originally trying to make, haha =_=' (it's ok but I'm just gonna drop it here)

I heard of Ratchet and Clank but have never played it myself. I looked up some gameplay footage and it looks pretty cool! (Longing for a Tails solo game intensifies)

I know, I know, drones are just so... lame :( I'm still holding out hope that we'll get to see more flashbacks with Prime Tails, I really like him from what little we've seen of him even though he's written so differently from probably any version of Tails I've seen before (except for maybe in some fics haha)

Yep! I've noticed that thing with Nine! (Part of my headcanon is that Tails's ability to control his Tails like that helps him fly (a little bit); I don't have a clear idea of the details, but the basic one is that he's able to position the fur of his tails in such a way that it makes slightly easier for them to function as helicopter blades. At this point it's instinctual for him, but if you're not Tails you might have a bit of trouble figuring out how to do it)

Yeah, I guess we'll see.

Man you mentioned the wispons and it made me think – we haven't seen Tails actually inventing anything for a while, huh? Unless something completely slipped my mind, the last time he had a new invention was Unleashed (the Miles Electric), and it's also the last time we've seen him with a new vehicle (Tornado-1. Geez. The Sonic Boom tv show made fun of his inability to come up with names and I kinda see where they were coming from here lmao). Mannnn. We can talk forever about the loss of his fighting abilities, but he hasn't exactly been shining in other areas either.

Yeah, it definitely doesn't seem... ooc for him to be into history, it just doesn't seem as connected to his usual interests. (But I guess history is inescapable in any field of work) Though Tails also has his own interest in chaos emeralds. (And you know if Eggman keeps summoning ancient evils (and Shadow) it's nice to at least have a general idea of what's going on. Or at least who to ask haha)

#tails #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #project.txt #miles tails prower #tails the fox #project.ask

6 notes · View notes

despair-to-future-arcs · 10 months ago

Note

Now here's a interesting idea. We know Utsuro started to resent the people he gave Divine Luck to...while he had his memories blocked at the time, do you think Utsuro was okay with giving Tsurugi Divine Luck because he knew he would hunt down and kill all the other Divine Luck users out there, thus cleansing the world of something he hated? Tsurugi may hate it but techinically he's following Utsuro's wishes. Which is something we can use against him.

Wait, you... you don't think he did that on purpose, did you?

No he didn't, you have to remember that Master Utsuro's personality was mostly based on Yamato Kisaragi during his time at Hope's Peak Academy, while for me; my memories of Master Utsuro was block as well so I wouldn't remember him or mistress Junko until someone mention 'Ultimate Despair'.

While Mikako Kurokawa had her memories, if she try to speak up she would begin to suffer a brain aneurisms and Yamato was mentally stunted and could barely speak.

I'm sure you remember how Yamato and Tsurugi were both friends, correct?

Yeah I remember the 2 playing chess together and Yamato wanted to keep Tsurugi away from the tragedy of Hope's Peak, so was it due to Utsuro with his personality based on Yamato and his ability to give others Divine Luck cause Tsurugi to have Divine Luck as well?

I would assume so, if Master Utsuro was kept to his original personality; he would not have done it and Tsurugi would be dead.

#dr #danganronpa #dtfa #despair to future arc #ds:rw #despair side: re write #ds ep 11 #dra #danganronpa another #akane taira #nagi nanami #anonymous

0 notes

xartus · 2 years ago

Text

Lists

Things That Are New Age/Alternative Medicine:

Crystals

Essential oils

"Energy"

"Vibrations"

"Frequencies"

"Spirit guides"

"The Universe" (as a vague theism)

Manifestation

Things That Have Been Appropriated Beyond Recognition by The West:

Sage/Smudging

Palo Santo

Chakras

Shamanism/ almost any kind of spiritual mediator

Drum circles

Virtually all entheogens

They're coming for animism too, I've seen it

Things That Are Neopagan:

Everything Wiccan which includes:

Divine masculine/feminine

The God/goddess

Triple Goddess

Entire Wheel of the Year

Emphasis on seasonal fertility cycles

Druidry

All Norse Paganism I'm sorry y'all

Things That Are Victorian Occultism:

Mediums

Psychics

"The veil"

Tarot (as a magical system, techinically starts in the 18th century)

Things That Are Ceremonial, Not Folk Magic:

Casting a circle

Capturing spirits/demons

Grimoires

Demonology

Things That Are Just Not Accurate Historically:

Focus on pan regional deities

Christian-like personal worship of deities

Insistence on mythology is literal

Insistence on folklore as literal

Anyone saying any of this is at all centralized or standardized

Orthodoxy honestly. Orthopraxy was more important in public cult

Runes

Things Y'all Are Currently Fucking Up & Being Weird About:

Anything Nordic. It's getting weird. Please chill. I know it's popular because it's an "exotic other" that has been deemed okay to ream culturally by spiritually empty Americans because they're also white but like, its getting fucking weird. And it's just Nordic stuff, no one gives a fuck about the rest of Germanic culture.

The exact same with the Celts, though this has been happening for much longer than the weirdness with Nordic beliefs. Same idea, an "exotic other" that's okay to suck the soul out of because they're white people. We hardly know anything about what the historical Celts did or practiced and almost all of the information about it online is not correct.

I'm begging you to learn about regional practices, either in the area you're in or of your family. This is aimed specifically at white pagans and witches since we (yes, I've been complicit in this in the past) are by far the most problematic currently and what I have experience on. Just because something is open, doesn't mean that you personally get to absolutely fuck it's entire history and social context to feel something inside. Any tradition deserves research and respect.

1 note · View note

bobcatmoran · 3 years ago

Text

Against my better judgement, I'm watching the GBBO Mexican Week since the following week's episode will be coming out here in the US tomorrow. Disclaimer that I have zero Mexican heritage. I just like me a pan dulce and am an award-winning baker for non-Mexican bakes.

We start off on a "high" note, with Noel and Matt in eye searingly bright ponchos and sombreros, saying, "I don't think we should make Mexican jokes, people will get upset."

"What, no Mexican jokes at all?"

"I don't think so."

"What, not even Juan?"

This seems to be setting the tone for the episode quite nicely.

Or something.

More beyond the cut for the sake of everyone's dashes who haven't turned on the annoying thing where it cuts off long posts. This is gonna be LONG. And very spoilery. Fair warning.

Signature: Pan Dulce

After 2 bakers being off for "illness" (covid?) last week, everyone's back in the tent.

The little clips from the bakers as they walk in do nothing to instill confidence that anyone is coming to this from a perspective where they actually know anything about Mexican baking or that they've done much in the way of research to prepare themselves.

"I don't really know much about Mexican cuisine, so this is an absolute adventure."

"When someone says Mexican food, my mind goes only to fajitas."

"Mexican food's fun, but Mexican baking? What do the Mexicans bake?"

Carole at least acknowledges that she did do research, because she wasn't familiar with Mexican sweet bakes. I salute her for choosing pan de anise, something other than the conchas most other poeple are doing, even though she can't pronounce it to save her life.

Abdul straight off the bat says he's never had any sort of pan dulce before, so he's not sure what they're supposed to be like. I can't entirely blame him because I don't think Panaderias are as common in the UK as they are here (even in suburban Minnesota I have at least two within a 5 mile radius). I do salute him for doing as much research as he could for his besos, though Paul is like, "No, your research is wrong, they're supposed to be a completely different texture, I have just been to Mexico."

Prue decides that it's a good idea to correct Janusz, who was born in Poland, that "cacti" is the correct plural of "cactus," not "cactuses." Because that's what's important.

I'm quietly dying inside at how the scriptwriters clearly decided that craquelin was the best term for the topping on conchas. (later addition: oh gods, the judges are calling it that, too)

Sandro, I love you, but that's PUSHING the definition of conchas, having a filling and a salted caramel base.

Break while the hosts decide that Mexico is definitely a real place. Like Oz.

I'll admit that I've never made conchas, but I've made the close Japanese cousin, melon pan (got a couple awards for them yay), and much sympathy for all the bakers going that route because getting the tops rolled out to the right thickness and scored nicely is sooooo fiddly. Not all of them manage it. Sandro, I love you again, but those "conchas" are. Tall. My dude, did you look at any photos of what those are supposed to look like? (later addition: given all of Paul's comments on shapes, apparently this is what Paul thinks they're supposed to look like? Taller than they are wide??)

Paul complains that Carole's pan de anise "aren't Chelsea bun shape."

Techinical: Tacos

Tacos, which as everyone knows, require baking.

Oh, wait. No they don't. What the heck, Paul Hollywood. Why did you set that as the technical.

Corn tortillas made from scratch, steak, "spicy refried beans," guacamole, and pico de gallo. So many baking skills involved in this. Wow.

Paul: It's Mexican Week, Prue. It has to be tacos.

He then goes on to mispronounce pico de gallo, which Matt somehow managed to get mostly right.

I am dying over how everyone, especially Paul, is pronouncing "taco."

Instructions are brutal, including steps that are "Make the Pico de Gallo." [capitalization as though it's a proper noun] "Make the refried beans." "Make the guacamole." It looks a bit more involved for the tortillas, so there's a bit of mercy there.

Oh gods, at least 3 of the bakers have never even heard of pico de gallo.

Oh noooooo, Janusz has the "cilantro tastes like soap" gene. Nonetheless, he goes ahead and adds it to his pico de gallo mixture since it was on the ingredients list for it. "Spicy, soapy, salty, and sour. Great," he says, tasting it.

Carole, bless her heart, is peeling the avocado for her guacamole like it's a potato. Her tortillas are. Uh. Well, she tried. In her defense, how could she know that Mexican Week would have a technical that involved ZERO baking.

Syabira, who seems to be the only one in the tent who's made Mexican food before, is unimpressed that they are not provided with a tortilla press and are instead asked to flatten the dough with a casserole lid.

Kevin says the most true thing ever, "Everyone's got an opinion on steak, and everyone thinks you've done it wrong."

As the judges approach, Matt mentions that the bakers have been asked to make a taco that include, among other things, "a tangy guacamole," which is not an adjective I'd have thought to apply to guacamole.

Paul complains that there's some color on some of the tortillas, and that's a garbage statement right there.

Prue states that one of the tacos has too much salt "in the taco." She clearly means "in the tortilla," but. Y'know.

Showstopper: Tres Leches Cake

Ok, first of all, the bakers are required to make a cake that has at least 4 layers, which is not something I've ever seen any one do with a tres leches cake. Its very form lends itself to a single layer cake, since it's so moist. I'm getting shades of Jürgen, Actual German from last season, who pointed out to the judges that they'd assigned a traditional German cake to be made in layers which is never ever made in more than a single layer.

At least this requires baking.

Dangit Sandro, you were my favorite coming in, and here you are, being like, "Oh, Mexican? Ok, I will put a GIANT MOUSTACHE on my cake." My dude, did you do your research for this week by watching Speedy Gonzales cartoons? Like, I know he has serious baking chops, knowing why certain things work the way they do. But. Yiiiikes.

Matt suggests to Abdul that since he's making a Dia de los Muertos themed cake that he'll get him some poison. Abdul points out that the holiday is about honoring the dead, not making more of them. Noel is excited for this theming.

Paul is BEWILDERED by the very concept of Syabira incorporating sweetcorn into her cake. Corn??? In a baked good?????? (my Midwestern soul wants to crawl into the TV and punch him)

Quietly dying at how everyone pronouncing "tres leches." Like it has a "z" at the end of the first word.

Kevin, quite sensibly, points out that tres leches sponge is not made for stacking. He is right. He loses points when he says he's making an Aztec temple for his cake, Paul asks him if it's Mayan or Aztec, and he then replies, "There's a bit of overlap, isn't there?" (no, no there is not. Not geographically, and not temporally).

I do wonder now, seeing which types of chili peppers the bakers are choosing (a lot of birds-eye chilis, which I personally associate more with Thai food than Mexican), what sort of availability you get in the UK. Like, they're all developing these recipes at home with the ingredients they can get. And I'm fully aware that Mexican ingredients are lot less available there than they are in the US.

Carole is using an angel food cake as her base to be soaked in the tres leches, and oh boy. She's another baker who, going in, I loved, but she's really struggling this week.

Further discussion amongst the hosts as to whether Mexico is a real place, and omg can we please stop doing this bit.

Janusz says what we're all thinking. "It's a four hour bake. You're not gonna make it perfect, will you?"

The judges are stunned and bewildered at how Syabira managed to have sweetcorn in her cake and make it taste like sweetcorn. Inner Midwesterner continues to scream. Especially after Paul says, "it's not for me."

Ready to shove both Prue and Paul off one of those Aztec pyramids where they used to do human sacrifices after all their complaints about uneven soaking for making a layer cake out of a cake that, by definition, includes a saturated crumb, which is not a thing that is structurally sturdy.

Paul continues his theme of being unable to stand anything much spicier than ketchup. For Mexican Week. Prue is in the same boat.

Two bakers eliminated this week to make up for last week, apparently. Ugh.

Anyway, even with German Week last year, they effed up some stuff, according to the Actual German in the tent. For the love of little green apples, they need to bring in someone who's actually from that country or at the very least someone who's deeply studied that country's baking tradition for these Ethnic Weeks. No, sending Paul Hollywood to the country for, like, a week does not count.

#gbbo #mexican week #sure did happen

302 notes · View notes

relentless-endurance · 3 years ago

Note

Top five Elezen, Miqo'te and Au Ra in 14!

Elezen:

Haurchefant. His death for our sake impacted so much. Also just love him as a character; his unflinching willingness to help. Also do you ever think about that scene at the end of the nidhogg fight? I do, I do a lot.

Ysayle. God I love her. A beautifully written and tragic character. And HER sacrifice. I cry thinking about her unironically.

Aymeric. Boyfriend. Heavensward reminded me why I love this character so much. Doing the right thing even if its hard, and (as I mentioned earlier) the way he is polite even under weird circumstances just tickles me.

Alphinaud and Alisaie. yes I am cheating techinically but shhh. Watching these two come into their own over the course of the MSQ was one of my favorite things about the story. I love them so much. Also whoever wrote them must have had siblings bc the ACCURACY.

Estinien. another character who's development over the course of the story has been so wonderful to witness. I know you really like Estien so just trust me when I say YOU'RE IN FOR A TREAT

Miqo'te

this one is a spoiler for you but ppl who know me know who I am talking about but when you get to this character you're going to understand why I love him so much. he is great and when you meet him you are free to come ask me about him because holy shit i could talk about it for years. i will say this: he's bisexual.

Y'shtola. goth mean lesbian who's always been a true friend. I love her and I can't talk about my favorite bits yet either but also I just. God I just. I love her. Y'shtola good. thats it. thats the message.

M'naago. she's good i love her i don't have 100% articulate thoughts on her but she was one of my favorite more minor npcs in the msq.

Renda-Rae. I don't know what your role is for the job you're leveling through SHB but if you're doing a physical dps you'll meet her during the msq. can't talk about her without sobbing and also spoiling but she tackles themes i really love.

Lue-Reeq. From the same questline ^. He's a good lad. Or he learns to be! I care him your honor.

Au Ra

Sid!!!! I love 1 grumpy dragon man who is also a dad and who also may have a teeny tiny crush on the wol. He's just good. He's so good. Love him and I want him to flourish. I also love a character who DOES NOT HESITATE when it comes to doing what he believes is right (wrt to the heavensward 60 drk quest, which if you've done: I think he absolutely made the correct choice).

Mide. She's from the Alexander raid series and she's just. Neat. I love her. The things we do for love bro.

the Steppe Trio Sadu, Cirina, and Magnai. I love 1 batshit blue dragon lady who gives not a single fuck, and her impulse control pink gf, and Magnai, who is a loser (affectionate). if they add trusts to STB and don't let me do trusts with them I will RIOT.

Ahewann. He is an Endwalker spoiler character - but he's v good and one of my favorite side npcs.

Yuguri. I LOVE HER SO MUCH. Her dynamic with Hien is chefs kiss. She's been an ally from the very beginning and I just love her bro. also you are huge brained for shipping your wol with her.

also i don't consider these so much as a ranking bc i love all these characters dearly for different reasons. these are 5 of these all that i love. also i could have picked a different miqo for 1 but i legally cannot. when you meet him you will understand.

#replies #asks #jarael #ffxiv spoilers

6 notes · View notes

tobitofunction · 5 years ago

Text

Family Time

What if Jango survived Genosis, what happened if Anakin never turned to the dark side and stopped Order 66.

Rex x Reader but it’s mostly focused on Rex/Clones relationship with Jango and Boba

It’s a year after Anakin defeated Palpatine and left the Jedi order to be a father. Rex settled down on Naboo with you, his secret girlfriend now wife and mother to his child. The birth was long and tiring, you passed out a few minutes after the birth of your son. Rex was cradling his son in his arms, careful not to hurt him, he was so little, so fragile, so perfect. He looks so much like Rex, you even joked about him being his clone. Rex was caressing his son cheek softly, his skin is soft just like silk. Rex already notified his brothers, Ahoska and his former Generals who he now sees as friends and family. Anakin and Padmé already came to visit with their twins who are now one. Both Anakin and Padmé agreed with your son being Rex’s clone, “The poor kid, will have a hard life ahead of him” Anakin joked making Padmé nudge him in the ribs and told him to keep his voice down as you were still asleep.

Most of his brothers live in Coruscant and not on Naboo so they will be visiting with him in the next few days.Fives, Echo and Jesse were only other clones who decided to live on Naboo, they already visited and fell in love with the little boy, both Jesse and Fives already had plans to corrupt the little boy with their mischievouss antics. So Rex didn’t expect another knock on their door. Rex sighed and placed his son in his crib beside your bed. Rex pulled the covers to your neck before walking towards the door. His eyes widen when he saw Jango and Boba Fett in front of him. Boba was standing behind Jango with an bored expression on his face, he grew a bit since he saw him the last time. Rex focuses on Jango,”What do you want?” his tone was quite harsh which made Jango lift a brow. The older man rubbed his chin," I heard about they baby and I liked it see it-","Him, it's a boy" Rex corrected the bounty hunter,"Lovely" he said. Rex licked his lips and thought for a second before stepping aside and letting them enter but he grabbed Boba by the shoulder," Break anything and my wife will kill you, she's a weapon expert". Boba grunted and slapped Rex's hand away, Jango ignored the two and looked around the small house. He was impressed, it wasn't much but it looked comfortable, perfect for a small family." My wife is still alseep, the birth tired her out" as Boba plopped down on a seat and placed his feet on the coffee table,"That's understanding" Jango said smacking Boba's feet of the table. Rex played with his fingers," Why are you here? How did you find out about it?" Rex asked folding his arms in front if his chest," A birth of a child is a big thing, mostly the birth of a child of a clone. Your brothers told everyone about, they were so excited" Jango said with a small smile playing on his lips." I'm here because techinally speaking you are my son just like Boba. Which makes your son my grandchild and I would...love to meet him" his voice was soft and completely different to his usally stoic, gruffy voice which mirror's Wolffe's voice. Rex looked into Jamgo's eyes and saw that he was telling the truth," Wait here, I get him".

Rex walked into the bedroom, you were awake and feeding the little boy," Your awake" Rex said softly. You hummed and caressed the baby's head as he was drinking from your breast," Does it hurt?" he asked sitting down on the edge of the bed,"No, it tickles but it doesn't hurt" you said. Rex looked at his son, nearly forgetting about Jango and Boba in their livingroom," Who were you talking too?" you asked," Jango and Boba Fett, they want to meet our son" you lifted a brow. You never thought Jango was intrested in the Clones, so you were wary about this situation. Rex saw it and grabbed your free hand gently and kissed your knuckles," I know it's weird and random but I really belive that his attention are good". You sighed and looked down at the little boy, he was licking his lips," He's done eating, just burp him and you can take him but I will be their as well" you said handing Rex the child and getting out of bed. Your legs still feel weak," Cyar'ika, your still weak from birth. Nothing will happen I promise" Rex said kissing your temple, you cursed under your breath.

Boba looked around, it was still pretty empty as you two moved in recently. Their were few pictures, mostly with Rex and you. Some had even Anakin, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan on them, the rest were Rex and his brothers. Jango found a picture which stuck out to him, it was the picture of your wedding day. Rex was in his armour which was scrubbed clean, freshly painted, his medals hung on his chest piece, his arm was slung around you waist, your dress was made just for you on Padme's orders. Surrounding the two of you were Rex's brothers, Wolffe, Cody, Echo, Fives, Jesse and many more. It was a family picture, beside that picture was another one, including Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Anakin, Padme and Plo Koon. Jango felt a pang of sadness in his chest that he couldn't witness it, the day seemed perfect. Jango heard Rex's footstep walk over to them, in his arms was his little boy wrapped in a blue blanket brought by Echo. Jango patted Boba's shoulder," What-", he was cut of my the babbling of an infant. Rex handed the baby to Jango as he didn't trust Boba to hold his son, Jango gently craddled the tiny boy in his arms. He was in awe of the little boy," He looks-","Like us? Yeah, everyone so far agreed" Rex said softly. Jango fingers grazed the skin softy," The last time I held a baby in my arms was Boba, that was 14 years ago" he said softly. Jango already felt a wave of protectiveness enter his body, he knew he won't let anyone hurt him, his grandchild." Boba, want to hold him?" Jango asked not taking his eyes off the baby. Rex looked at Boba,"No" he said quickly," I don't want to hold it" he said crossing his arms,"It's a him not an it" Jango correct still looking at the little boy. Boba pouted, he felt a bit jealous seeing his father turn so mushy at a sight of a baby. "I still don't want too" he said, Jango grunted and handed the boy back to his father even though it was relucantly. "Boba what's wrong?" Jango asked knowing well their is something wrong with the teenager," You never cared for those clones and now that a baby is present you are dad of the year to them. What happened their?" he asked loudly making the baby cry out. Boba cringed a bit, he didn't want to make him cry, Rex didn't seem angry though, he bounced him a bit and the baby stopped. You however came in quickly," Y/N, you should be in bed" Rex said, wrapping his free around your waist to steady you," He cried and I thought something happened" you said looking at Boba and Jango. Boba looked down at his feet," Sorry" he said, he never apologies, and if he does he means it," I didn't mean to make it cry" he said," Him" you said narrowing your eyes at him. "Sit down Cyar'ika" Rex said, moving the baby around his arms as he began to wiggle.

Jango looked at Boba and than at Rex," I did care about the clones since the first one... Alpha 17( I don't know which one was the first, probably Boba but let's pretend it's Alpha 17) was born. I didn't show it as, I felt horrible, you were born to do fight a war you didn't start. You were created to die just like cattle on a farm. I barley survived Genoisis and can only remember very little, but when I saw my clones, fight the clankers I was so proud. I watched you all from the far and my pride in you just grew" Jango said, his voice was shaky. Rex sat down beside you while Jango talked, the baby was pressed against Rex's chest, his chubby cheek squished onto his body. Boba was quite, he looked at his father with an unreadable expression,"Did you knew about Order 66?" Rex asked suddenly," In a way"," Yes, that was one of the reason I took the job in the first place" he said bluntly. Rex clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on his son and wife. Jango noticed it," The Jedi are our friends, my brothers nearly turned into mindless slaves and you just sat their counting credits knowing that?" Rex said getting angry. If you and the baby weren't their he would have attacked Jango already. The baby cried out again, you quickly took him into your arms and tried to calm the baby down," I'm sorry Rex, I really am. I know it won't be enough but I hope you forgive me" Jango said getting up from his seat, Boba following his lead,"Wait, it's not your fault. It's Palpatines-" you turned to Rex," It's your chance to finally have a father Rex, it's never to late to have one" you said kissing his cheek. Rex sighed and stayed quite for a while," It will take time" Rex said turning to Jango," I know" he said. You looked at Boba who was staring at the baby," Want to hold him now?" Boba nodded hestiantly. The teen walked over to you and sat down on the chair next to the couch you were sitting on."Be gentle" you said, Boba lips were in a tight line as Baby wiggled in his grip," It....he doesn't like me" he said about to hand him over again," I think he does, your his Uncle after all" you said trying to warm up to the young bounty hunter. The baby soon stopped wiggling, the boy opened his eyes slowly, it's the second time he opened his eyes since he was born. His eyes looked straight into Boba's, his eyes were different, their were your eyes, it's the only physical thing he was of you. "Does it..he have a name?" Boba asked," No, we couldn't find one that fits" Rex said looking from Jango to Boba,"Kaiden? He looks like a Kaiden to me" Boba said smiling sofly as the baby wrapped his hand around his finger. Rex and you looked at each other," Kaiden, it sounds good. Kaiden L/N" he said bringing you closer to him."It means fighter" Jango said sitting down beside Rex's," Yes, just like this family" you said putting your head on Rex's shoulder. Rex nodded," Yeah like this family" he said as Boba handed Kaiden to Jango. He might not be their as father to the clones but he will be their as an Grandfather. Even Boba promised himself that he will be a good Uncle to him and his future nieces/nephews.

#The Clone Wars #star wars #jango fett #boba fett #captain rex fanfic #captain rex #clone trooper rex #captain rex x reader #rex x you #star wars au

107 notes · View notes

clowntownsystem · 3 years ago

Text

Categories in the dsm-5 relating to DID/OSDD1

So i saw a post on here trying to say that DID/OSDD1 isn't medically said to be only caused by trauma since in the dsm-5 it's under the category of dissociative disorders. Here is why I think that it that statement is wrong.

The DSM-5 has multiple different categories. This allows people who are learning it and professionals be able to locate specific disorders and groups of symptoms easier. These categories are based on the primary symptom or the main cause. PTSD is under trauma disorders since the main symptom/the cause is trauma. Autism and ADHD are under neurodivergancey as that is the cause/group of symtpoms it falls under. DID and OSDD1 are under dissociative disorders as the main symptom for both is dissociation.

I think we all know that a disorder has multiple symptoms. That's part of what makes it a disorder and not just a diagnosable symptom. Some disorders will have symptoms/causes that techinally fall under multiple categories. For example, whilst PTSD is a trauma disorder, it has the symptom of dissociation. The categories in the dsm-5 DO NOT define all the symptoms of a disorder. DID and OSDD1 can both exist under the dissociative disorders category, and be a trauma based disorder. The categories in the dsm-5 are only there to help organize the book. Whilst the categories themselves aren't made up, what disorders fit under which one is subjective as disorders can have symptoms from multiple different categories. This is one of the reasons why multiple professionals work on the book (aside from all the other importance having multiple people work on it).

I am not using this to try and go "checkmate endos" as that is not the point of this post, my thoughts on endogenic systems will be saved for another post. The point of this post is to say that arbitrary wording cannot prove whether something exists as there is much more to it and to correct misinformation.

#syscourse #DID #dsm 5 #discussion

3 notes · View notes

missputotyra · 4 years ago

Text

My God and Godesses Ocs part 1 - Anubis

All these Guys are part of a orignal Idea I often Comeback to devlop called God Wars Basically The characters are Recarnations of various Gods with god forms and What not .

Anubis - Gamal Avdol

- yes The reference is Intentional

- Hes Techinally the Main Character

- Gamal is a Triplet , Gamil and Altair are his ”Younger “ Brothers( He was born a few minutes before.”

- Hes Not Islamic , He may be Egyptian/ American but His Family dose Not practice Islam And he will Stress this .

- Hes basically Kemonmimi , He was Originally based on Anubis from MGE , Hes God Form used have black Transparent harem pants but I’ve Since made them opaue and white because at Start of this Hes supposed to be about 16- 18 and thought It wasn’t appropriate since Gamal was already shirtless ( and I even corrected that recently with his recent Redesign on Kisekae it easier to make A base reference in Kisekae don’t Judge me)

Here on of eariler Desgins With his Normal Form

- Gamal is serious but Not a workholic he actually fairlly laidback despite what his Actions and Tendencey to Get angry would Make you think

- You might have Noticed that Gamals god form has another form, at some point I planned for him to get controlled by or possessed by Osiris as a way for him to gain Access to the outside world which is why he looks older

- I’ve establish That Gods Related to Death Usally get thier Powers through a Near Death experience , Gamal was in bus crash around the age of 12, So his grasp on his powers arent as Deep as others his age.

-Gamal has Dog senses

-Gamal is Allergic to Chocolate but he loves sweets

- Gamal Is Planned to be In a Relationship with the Reincarnation of Amaterasu.

#anubis deity #oc #orignal oc #orignal writing #original character #dogs #kisekae #egyptian gods #egpyt #egyptian mythology #dog boy #wolf boy #character design #God wars #god i love them

2 notes · View notes

aveys6 · 4 years ago

Text

little wip

how richie's health changes in relation to his relationship w eddie

* the dialogue is rough bc i intend on actually putting it into structured sentences in ao3, bare w me

age 13 - 1989

"sorry guys, cant hang today. i have a hot appointment scheduled with dr noelle" he lifted his eyebrows and shit to insuate prostitution

"so, what, you have a physical?" stan said unimpressed

"that's the techinical term, stanny, but we all know better. i cant wait to have her hot bod all over me on the examination table-"

a chorus of dismissal waves around him, and eddie elbows his upper arm. stan even mutters something about 'examination' being quite a big word for richie to use.

"i bet theyre gonna test you for HIV. or maybe you'll get diagnosed with lung cancer from all of those cigarettes you've been smoking. *insert fact about smoking here that was probably exaggerated*"

"oh yeah? and where'd you hear that? your mommy?" richie challenged, ignoring eddies mention of the 'queer disease'

"ill have you know, dipwad, that my mom is highly educated in the field of medicine. cigarettes are insanely addictive-"

rich cuts him off and mocks with a nasally voice

"according to my calculations, cigarettes have roughly 236 chemicals in them-"

"thats basically true!"

"you guys are infuriating, but im pretty sure eddie's right on this one"

"thank you stan!"

"my mom says its fine because im young"

"im pretty sure she said that in reference to your junk food intake which you should also cut back on-"

"anyway," rich cuts in "im 100% sure everything will go completely fine. my doctor will be swayed by my irresistible charm to which she will then add a couple inches to my heigh chart so i can officially be 5'4 and make fun of you all"

eddie was determined not to smile, his quivering lips miraculously staying straight and expressionless "thats not how it works and you know it"

"not with that attitude!" noogie on eds

"fuckin quit it!"

his heel was practically slapping the waiting room floor, eyes flittering over childish paintings of sea creatures on the walls.

eddies irrational-but-not-quite-irrational rants finally processed in his mind.

richie never liked worrying his friend. he knew the boy's mom was a nutjob and said as such often (as well as vocalized his extreme desire to 'love her up'). he knew eddie was basically brainwashed.

it was scary, having someone worry about you. it means they cared. richie never truly comprehended why they cared. why eddie specifically cared. but it also felt good to have someone worry about him, outside of his mother, who, speaking of, gently placed a hand on his knee to stop its incessant movement.

richie wasnt the prime of schoolgirl crushes. he looked a little buggish: big eyes, thin limbs- clumsy and annoying. he wondered why eddie of all people gave him the time of day, and sometimes even more than that.

"richie toe-zee-air?"

the pair stood up despite mispronunciation.

richie was more than delighted to announce that his appointment was flawlessly average. everyone knows the deal: lie about how many fruits and veggies you consume, exaggerate how early you go to bed, deflect when the doctor asks if you've experienced any romantic or sexual attraction, count the inches of a growth spurt- no biggie.

"im sorry for, like, berating you earlier. i dont like doctors."

"i would hardly call what you did berating eds. it was your normal amount of neuroticism. dont sweat it"

there was a pause

eddie breaks the silence "i just worry sometimes"

ah, so it was confirmed.

"i know you do, eds."

"how do you know the word neuroticism?"

"heard my dad say it."

--------

age 25 - 2001

richie was back to tapping his foot on the linoleum of a waiting room. this time, alone, with no one to calm his fire-y energy. its not like he wanted the tapping to stop anyway. the repetitive motion helped ease the anticipation of getting scolded for letting himself go. this time not by a boy he couldnt catch the name of, but by a licensed professional.

he reasoned that he would rather hear it from the boy. what the hell was that shit bag's name?

this was the first appointment he had attended and organized since his pediatrician refused another after his 22nd birthday. she was already stretching the age limit of which he could visit (said extension curtesy of his dad being friends with medicinal people).

he figured it was time to move on with his life once snotty kids started giving him weird looks for fidgeting with the baby toys displayed near check-in. what says being an adult more than scheduling your own health appointments? richie answers that question by saying 'having to pay for them'.

richie's silent complaints are interrupted by a soft knock. a very typical, white-haired, doctor you'd see in movie, type of dude sauntered in.

"mr tozier, im dr sigman, how're we doin'?" he said, pumping obscene amounts of hand sanitizer.

richie replied automatically, "i'm doing pretty well, doc', how are you?"

as one can tell by the excruciatingly boring small talk, richie seemed to have lost his most palatable edge: quirky socialization.

"eh, my condition is not what's important here. how about you sit up on this here table and we can listen to your heart and lungs."

richie followed the instruction, heart rate increasing accordingly. the paper on the bench-table-thing crinkled far too loudly to be acceptable. maybe he was hungover. it would explain the heightened senses.

"so, according to your medical records, tozier, you haven't had an annual physical since- uh..." the man scanned his clipboard, "1998, correct?"

"that is correct, sir" his ears were aflame.

"mkay. you eat healthy?"

okay, then, they were getting right into it

"as healthy as i can, sir" what kind of fuckin answer was that?

dr sigman grimaced a bit, clearly knowing richies response meant his patient ate an apple every month or so to throw his body for a loop or, rather, 'reset' the ol' immune system. a shallow try at 'taking back your life' like some tabloid bullshit.

"you have a stable sleep schedule?"

richie shrugged with an "i guess" that conveyed that his average hours of sleep per night were as dreadful as his attempt at a balanced food pyramid plate.

"smoke or drink?"

now thats the million dollar question

#richie tozier #it 2017 #it 2020 #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #yeah idk

8 notes · View notes

niklami · 5 years ago

Text

The big changes of time in The Umbrella Academy we have seen so far...

I will do this in the cronological order of the show’s timeline or kind off, correct me if there is anything wrong.

- Harlan got powers, which means he probably met Reginald Hargreeves, who then founded the Sparrow Academy, sparrow because of Harlan’s little toy.

- Dave, he enlisted soon, and then went to the Marines? Which means that he and Klaus(from the original timeline) never meet.

- Grace kind of breaks up with Reginald(which might affect his personality and the relationship between him and Pogo, seeing Pogo has techinically spent more time with Grace, so we’ll see if Pogo continues with Reginald.)

- Reginald didn't die, which kind of maybe correlates in the change of his personality and Grace not being there(?)

- They are know known as terrorrists, which maybe will affect how the world sees them in the future and also maybe change who they are in this new timeline.

- They might have different names or might not even exist in this new timeline.

- And if the original timeline doesn’t exist it means that those things never happened with the Umbrella kids, which can also affect their memory(But that’s not for sure since i don’t know how time is portrayed in that universe).

- Allison might not even have her daughter, Five may have never travelled to the future, Vanya didn’t cause the apocalypse, Klaus probably didn’t meet Dave, Ben(don’t know if that is his name in the original timeline) is still alive, Luther was likely never sent to the moon, Diego probably never met Grace....and the list goes on

- The question is...the Sparrow Kids may be different versions of the Umbrella kids OR entirely different people, which could mean there is a different version of the Hargreeves siblings existing or they might not exist in that timeline at all.

- Also there is kind of a box??? Along with the Sparrow kids

#the umbrella academy #tua #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #the sparrow academy

24 notes · View notes

jbuffyangel · 5 years ago

Note

Hi Jen! I know you're a diehard Stelena shipper so here's my question for you with a bit of backstory. I was a hardcore Stelena fan until when Stephan made Elena think he'd drive them off the bridge (3x10?) so she'd let him go. I understand why he did it, but that went too far for me and i couldn't ever ship them again after that. I couldn't get over him forcing her to relive her most traumatic moment, regardless of his reasoning. What are your thoughts on that moment in their relationship?

Yeah, that was a real low point in Stelena’s story. For me, not as low as Stefan drowning in a safe all summer while Elena banged his brother, but still low.

Before we get into this I’m going to just say - every viewer has to draw their own line in the sand. If that moment was your line that’s completely fine. I may have different lines for different shows and characters, but I don’t believe anyone’s lines are more valid than others.

So here’s the way I look at The Vampire Diaries Nonnie - they are all terrible people. Arguing morality with these characters is a black hole. They are all murderers. In fact, if a character runs the straight and narrow for too long Julie Plec & Co. actually went out of their way to make that character do something horrible.

Case in point - Caroline. Pure sunshine.

She murdered only one person and it was when she was a newbie vamp. By the numbers count Caroline was doing pretty good for TVD. Then she was up on the moral high ground and threw a lot of judgement Damon’s way (well deserved in my opinion). She was extremely anti Delena in Season 4 and was not pleased with Elena’s choices as a vampire. So what did the writers do? They had her kill 12 witches in 4x17. Say goodbye to the moral high ground, Caroline.

That’s the show and you are going to do terrible things if you’re a vampire. Humans like Matt, Jeremy and Bonnie fared better, but each makes morally questionable, if not down right wrong, decisions. Their opinions about vampires and all the murderer was typically correct, but frequently viewed as judgmental by fans.

So what’s my point? Any fan of the love triangle got on board with these relationships with full knowledge the brothers were killers. Just because Stefan was a solid dude when Elena met him didn’t erase the fact he spent the better part of the 1920s ripping people’s heads off. Hell, Damon murdered people while he was dating Elena. Murder is not a deal breaker- either to Elena or Stelena/Delena fans. If Elena was supposed to end up with the most moral person on TVD she should’ve married this blue eyed cupcake.

Stefan (or Damon for that matter) being cruel to Elena didn’t really make me want to peace out on the show or stop shipping their relationship. Just because Elena is the focus of the terrible thing doesn’t suddenly make it more terrible than all the other things Stefan and/or Damon have done.

I’m not going to defend what Stefan did. You are kinder to him than I am because I think it had zip to do with forcing Elena to let him go. Stefan was still on human blood which made him a rage machine. He was pissed at Klaus for destroying his life (rightfully so) and hell bent on revenge.

Do I believe Stefan, with his humanity switch on, would actually kill Elena? No, which is why I kind of yawned my way through the whole driving her off the bridge plan. Klaus was an idiot for buying it, but the only reason he did was because Elena was terrified. Stefan said her fear sold it. The point was to traumatize her, which makes Stefan an enormous dick.

And yet, three episodes later he’s off human blood and Elena is begging him to feel something for her.

This show was ridiculous. Both sides of the love triangle are abusive, co dependent, toxic train wrecks at certain points in the story. Some points last longer than other points, but I’ll side eye any Stelena or Delena fan who argues differently.

Stefan was faaaaar too “heroic” by The Vampire Diaries standards the first two seasons. In order to make this love triangle a real love triangle Stefan had to be a dick with his humanity switch ON. The whole Ripper/no humanity thing gives him an easy pass. And The Vampire Diaries, for better or worse, was based on the love triangle.

No, in order for Elena to really struggle choosing between the two brothers, and not looking like a loony tune for giving Damon a second look while Stefan was literally the vampire equivalent of Clark Kent, they needed Stefan to go to the dark side. This made Damon step up to the plate and he became the hero in Elena’s life. And we’re off to the races with the love triangle, which was the whole point of Season 3 - ELENA’S CHOICE. If I took a shot every time Elena said, “I don’t know how I feel,” I would’ve permanently damaged my liver.

So why did I keep shipping Stelena after that moment?

Because I knew what the show was trying to do. Stefan had to do something as terrible as Damon killing Jeremy to even the playing field.

Do I feel those moments equate? No, but I’m a Stelena fan so that’s not a shock. I own my bias. Bloodaholic Stefan was never going to hurt Elena (no not even turn her into a vampire) whereas Damon literally killed Jeremy.

I also kept shipping them because I knew this was the low point. I knew good Stefan would start to come back after this. And Stefan, when he’s not ripping heads off, has his humanity switch on, and his blood addiction under control, is one of the best people on that show. Selfless, heroic, warm, compassionate, protective and giving. He’s devoted to Elena and loves her deeply, but he also loves her friends and family. Does Stefan put those people first all the time like Elena wanted him to? No, but he prioritized them a hell of a lot more than Damon.

I was willing to forgive Stefan for Wickery Bridge because I knew Stefan would feel immense guilt once the haze of revenge lifted and he allowed the full weight of all the things he did hit him. Stefan would punish himself more than I ever could and do everything in his power to make amends because that’s who he is.

This is the same reason Elena chose Stefan at the end of Season 3. Did he “earn” his redemption by 3x22? No, the dude had been acting good for a total of nine episodes. Well, techinically five if we’re being strict about what constitutes “Good Stefan.” Elena didn’t choose Stefan because of the person he was during Season 3. She chose Stefan because of the man he had been in Season 1 and Season 2. That’s the man she loved and she knew that man had come back.

But if we’re really being fair - Damon probably deserved to be chosen more than Stefan just based on their behavior in Season 3. Same rules apply for Season 4. Stefan deserved to be chosen more than Damon then.

***Side note. One thing TVD did extremely well was parallels. I loved that she told Stefan on the phone that she loved him in 3x01 and to hold on to that. Then told Damon on the phone that she is choosing Stefan in 3x22.

(This is also why Elena told Damon she loved him for the first time over the phone. It was to make up for the time she dumped him over the phone and left him for dead. See? They all did crappy stuff to each other CONSTANTLY).

The difference between the brothers is not good and bad. Stefan isn’t entirely good just like Damon isn’t entirely bad. The difference between the two brothers is one fights the good in him while the other fights the bad. Neither are successful in their battles all the time. Stefan did terrible things, with his humanity on, and Damon could be wonderfully heroic and sweet.

But Damon pushed against that goodness A LOT. Whereas Stefan pushed against his badness A LOT. I’m not into the bad boys or the anti heroes. I like darkness in my fictional men, but I enjoy watching them fight it and not relish it.

But I don’t glean any morality from The Vampire Diaries. It was a fantasy show. It’s crap I watched for fun and had pointless, but entertaining, ship debates with strangers on the Internet. Nor do I apply my real world principles to my shipping preferences. I am married to the kindest, gentlest, most moral man I know. I like the goody guys with NO darkness in real life. I would never allow my kid to date a Stefan or Angel or hell not even Oliver Queen in real life. Are you nuts???? THEY MURDERED PEOPLE.

But in my fantasy world, yes I am extremely forgiving. Not unlike Elena Gilbert, Buffy Summers and Felicity Smoak. Oliver Queen is as squeaky clean as I get. It’s a little easier I think with Angel (versus Stefan) because he only did horrible things after he lost his soul, which was not his fault.

It’s really two personas. I love Angel, but I hated Angelus. I never wanted Buffy to hook up with Angelus.

Does that erase his responsibility over Jenny Calendar?

Nope. But simply because I knew Jenny Calendar as a viewer, and Angel was hurting people Buffy loved, doesn’t suddenly make that murder worse than all the others Angelus killed. Just because Buffy didn’t know those people, and they died hundreds of years ago, doesn’t make their lives any less valuable. But I got on board with Buffy dating Angel knowing all that before he lost his soul, so the morality factor didn’t really change after he got his soul back. Make sense?

It’s similar with Stefan. Stefan and The Ripper are two personas, but TVD liked to muddy the water a little more than Whedon with the humanity switch - a grey area. But in general I divide his character into two selves.

Now, in real life if I was on a jury these guys would be serving 25 to life. But this is fantasy. Vampires don’t really exist. Teenage girls don’t date men over 110 years old. It’s illegal.

Characters like Stefan and Angel are an allegory. They represent the struggle between good and evil that live within all of us. The writers use vampirism to represent our sinful nature. The human struggle to be good and battle against our (hopefully) lower scale darkness/sins is the only real moral lesson I apply. That and always put Paul Wesley in a white tank top.

So, that’s how I look at that scene Nonnie. As I said before it is completely fine for that to be the moment you stopped shipping Stelena. I never stopped shipping Stelena and I never will, which is why they are one of my OTPs. They are a tragic story, but I will always love them. Despite all of Stefan’s terrible mistakes, I will always believe he was the best choice Elena ever made.

#stelena #stelena meta #stefan salvatore #elena gilbert #stefan and elena #anti damon #anti delena #anti damon salvatore #angel #buffy the vampire slayer #btvs meta #asks #Anonymous

57 notes · View notes

crutchie-with-a-y · 5 years ago

Text

Good Day

(Warning: Drinking, Drunkedness)

“Oh, good mooooooooorning ugly!” Race pulled open his dark red curtains and looked out over the rainy Manhattan streets. He didn’t necessarily dislike ugly weather, he was just telling it like it was. The clouds were a smudged pencil gray and had opened up on the pedestrians scurrying to their office or subway station to start the week. Race decided he wasn’t dreading this morning, at least, not as much as everyone else. Even though the Monday after a long holiday weekend always seemed to be particularly grueling, Race wasn’t having it. He pulled on his shirt and buttoned it up, looking in the mirror as he fixed his collar. A good day, that’s what this was. He rolled his wrists around in his crisp cuffs as he shook out his golden curls. Medda from human resources had once told him that every day was a good day if you just decided it was. He cracked his neck and slid his hands into the deep pockets of his dark dress pants, and, deciding he looked respectable enough, slid across the floor in his black dress socks, skidding through the doorway of his bedroom as he grabbed his shoes off the ground.

A good day, he repeated to himself as he hopped into his kitchen, popping the shoe on one foot and then the other as he leaned against the counter. Let’s think about it, he thought, opening a cabinet to grab a tumbler for his coffee, a great job, great friends, the holidays just around the corner, and he had just gotten HBO go, and what a great investment that was proving to be. He popped the lid off the tumbler and walked over to the coffee machine. Now, some may call him old fashioned, but Keurigs were wasteful, and it was just a lot easier to make one pot of coffee and just always have it there, in case he needed a pick-me-up when he got home. The first thing he did in the morning was to hop out of bed and start the coffee, then shower and get dressed. Another thing to be grateful for, Rave thought as he poured, routine. A healthy one at that. How many people could say they had that, he asked himself, opening his fridge and grabbing his hazelnut creamer. Not a lot of people. He flipped off the lid and was disappointed by the few dribbles of white that splashed into his coffee.

“Grrrrr,” Race growled to himself, tossing the empty bottle in the sink. “Hey Ale-no, excuse me, HEY GOOGLE,” He corrected himself as he dumped an unidentified but still horrifying amount of sugar into his coffee. He’d recently parted ways with his Alexa, and since Jeff Bezos was as an asshole, he’d decided not to get a new one.

“How may I help you, Ra-aCecRACK?” The automated voice responded, causing Race to bend over in silent laughter. He’d somehow gave the machine his name wrong, but it was just soooooooo fucking funny to hear that clunky robot voice say Racecrack that he’d just left it that way.

“Yeah, oh my god, uh, please add creamer to my list, and uhhh,” He opened the freezer and frowned, “ ice cream, breakfast sandwiches and grapes I guess, to balance it all out.”

“Creamer, ice cream, breakfast sandwiches, and grapes have all been added to your list.” We're rollin', Race thought as he grabbed his coffee and snatched up his keys, wallet, and Juul from a clay olive dish on the counter that he’d gotten in the office white elephant last year.

“Thank you so very much, Google, I will order you around more when I get home, servant speaker” He opened his apartment door, patting his left pocket to make sure his phone was there.

“You are very welcome. Have a good day!” The voice called as he opened the door.

“Already decided I would, Bitch,”

“...okay then, Ra-aCecRACK.”

Race clambered up the steps of the subway station, glancing down at his phone as he did. 8:34. Perfect, he thought, dashing across the crosswalk as the orange hand began to flash. He speed-walked down the sidewalk and up to a Jack in the Box. Plenty of time, plenty of ti-

Race’s thoughts on timing were immediately cut short when a man walked past him through the door of the fast-food place. His breath hitched. He blinked and walked into the building, taking a sharp right to the restrooms and ripping open the door to the single-stall, locking it behind him. He slammed his back against the door and slid down it to the floor, his hands attempting to rub the small tears back into his eyes.

The man he’d walked past hadn’t done anything wrong, Race didn’t even know him. The only offense this man had committed was wearing the same cologne as a certain man named Austin.

Who just happened to be Race’s ex. As of quite recently.

The two-year relationship had ended with lots of fights and lies, and then finally an evening where Race had come home to a practically empty apartment.

“God, Race you’re so so so so so stupid.” Race said to himself, smashing his eyes into his fists. He sat there for a moment, eventually giving up and letting the angry, heartbroken tears come. This was why he had to remind himself to have a good day. This is why he had gotten that stupid Google Home to replace the Alexa that had been taken. Because he couldn’t stand a lonely, empty apartment, where it was always silent, a constant reminder he was alone. The only were sounds were the ones he made, him going to the fridge for a beer, him sobbing into a pillow, his sarcastic commentary to no one but the walls. This is why he’d gotten that stupid thing, to just make it seem like he wasn’t entirely alone, give the illusion that there was someone to talk to, even if it was just to tell them to turn on music or to remind him to buy something. And this is what led to him laughing alone, at 7 am, in a kitchen with only a microwave and the fridge that came with the apartment and some plastic silverware because he wasn’t ready to face the fact he needed to go furniture and appliance shopping by himself, to his fake robot roommate calling him Racecrack.

“Racecrack.” Race whispered. He giggled sadly. “RaaACEcraCk.” He let his hands drop to his side and he sigh-laughed, his shoulders slumping with emotional exhaustion as the misspoken name echoed against the tiles of the bathroom.

“rAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaacccccccceeccccRrRrRaccccccck.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. He pulled himself up with the corner of the sink and looked at his red eyes in the mirror. “Ew.” He splashed water on his face, figuring that if it worked in the movies he might as well try it. He dried his face and rolled his shoulders back, looking himself in the eye one last time before leaving the bathroom to go and order.

“Good Day.”

“Morning, Race!” Hannah looked up from her receptionist’s desk as Race walked in. “What kept ya so long?”

“There was a line for breakfast.” He leaned against her desk, waving his breakfast sandwich around before taking a huge bite of the greasy sausage and cheese mess which he held together between two paper napkins. Hannah chuckled.

“Don’t worry I covered for you.” She reassured him, and then, before he could react, leaned forward and snatched a chunk of his breakfast. Race’s jaw dropped dramatically. “Lying-for-you-tax,” Hannah said, covering her full mouth as she talked.

“RACE!! Race, have you filed your report yet, dumbass?” Jack’s head suddenly poked up out of one of the many cubicles in the office. Davey’s head popped up next to his, his hair a little rumpled, causing both Hannah and Race to look at each other.

“Yeah, because all of that hard work you’re doing with Davey in there?” Race raised an eyebrow at them.

“Oh it’s hard alright,” Hannah added, followed by many OOOOOOOOOOOHs erupting from the cubicles of people who were eavesdropping. Race high-fived Hannah as Jack elbowed Davey out of his cubicle. The chuckles died down while Jack hopped up on top of his desk so he could stare down at everyone in their cubicle like he usually did when he needed to tell everyone something important, or at least something he thought was important. People leaned back in their chairs or stood up and leaned their arms over the tops of their cubicles, chewing on pens or making stupid faces at one of their coworkers while their boss talked.

“Oh yeah, haha, very funny everyone. But seriously though, we need need to actually get some work done today-”

“But that’s not my job!” Henry shouted over the complaining noises that followed. Jack looked at him like he was a spot of mold on a brand new loaf of bread.

“Yes actually, it is.” Crutchie reminded him, rolling his eyes.

“DAMN IT.” Henry slammed his hand on his desk.

“Aright, seriously though,” Jack said as chuckles shook the cubicle walls. “The new Company Event Planner’s first day is today, and they’re gonna be working in our space so Joe will be bringing them down.”

“What’s their name, Jack?” Mike called, tapping his cheek with a pen. Jack rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don’t know..I didn’t actually open the email so,” The office sigh-laughed collectively at their always-behind boss. “BUT Joe will be in here, so we do have to have something to show for our day.” A collective groan washed over the office.

“Also,” Medda snapped for everyone’s attention from her corner of the room. “We’re having a welcome party for them at 3:30, so if you didn’t remember to bring a dish to share I suggest running to Trader Joe’s on your lunch break.”

“And I already brought chips and salsa so you will have to be creative,” Finch added.

“You going to visit the Trader, Race?” Buttons poked his head in Race’s cubicle while a large group of their coworkers gathered by the door. Race looked up from his computer and then to the form he was filling out.

“Uhhh, I’ll catch up with you guys, I want to finish this before lunch.”

“Okay, see ya!” Buttons darted off to crowd into the elevator with everyone else. Race sighed. He had a lot of work he needed to get done. With a new event planner, his job would technically be easier, but would also require a lot of teamwork between the two of them. Race’s official title was “Community Outreach Supervisor” and, like everyone else in the office, his job was actually meant for like five. I don’t mind though, he thought to himself, and he didn’t. He liked getting to work with prominent community members, he’d met some incredible people since he’d gotten this job, and he liked being busy, it kept his mind off other things he’d rather not think about. And lately, that was a lot of things.

Currently, Race was working on organizing job shadowing and internships by local high school students. He’d been emailing back and forth with a counselor who was plenty nice, but kinda sucked at providing him with all the information he needed. He hoped it would work out though. After going to several job fairs in gymnasiums crowded with confused students, he realized how important it was. The kids he met with were wonderful, they were polite and eager to learn, and he wanted to make sure they all got jobs they liked, were good at, and could make a living doing. This goddamn counselor, however, was not exactly putting a lot of effort into helping him do that.

“Whatever.” Race closed a few tabs and put his computer to sleep as he stood up and slid his jacket off the back of his chair. He walked out of the office and down the hallway, jogged down a few flights of stairs, and took a deep breath of city air. Before he could exhale, however, an aggressive rain whipped across his face.

“For fuck's sake.” Race flipped up his hood and rammed his hands into his pocket, as he ran as fast as he dared down the block with his head down. He dashed across the Trader Joe’s parking lot and headed toward the sliding doors, unsuccessfully trying to dodge the several shoppers who were losing control of their carts on the wet concrete.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” A voice said half-heartedly as the sharp metal corner of a shopping cart jammed itself into Race’s ribs, temporarily knocking the breath out of him.

“Good...day,” Race wheezed as he dragged himself into the store, clutching his side. He staggered through the isles, trying to think of something nobody else would have thought to grab, which did not exist. He looked longingly at the shelves lined with liquor but knew that today was not the day to break office policy. Wondering if there was some sort of pizza bagel-esc thing he could grab, Race turned abruptly into a freezer aisle. Only to be hit in the face with the edge of a freezer door.

“Oh. my god.” His hand slammed over his right eye and he steadied himself against a closed door, one arm still wrapped around his torso. A young woman holding a pint of ice cream gasped and rushed over to him.

“I’m s-s-o sorry, sir!” she stuttered, unsure of what to do. “Are you alright?” Nope, Race thought, feeling a bruise forming, but a glance at his watch changed his answer.

“Yep, no worries!” He straightened up immediately and darted down the aisle, ignoring the water that flooded his eye when he looked into the light. Joe was set to bring in the new event planner in ten minutes, and Joseph Pulitzer was always right on time. He squinted across the entire store, finally giving up and returning to the freezer section and grabbing the first thing his eyes landed on.

“Gluten-free cheesy quinoa bites. Perfect.” Race declared aloud, stacking his arms withs several boxes, and then heading toward the express lane.

“RACE FINALLY!!!” Jack threw his arms out toward the wet-haired blonde that stepped through the office doors holding a ripped paper bag.

“Calm the hell down, Jack.” Race snapped, carrying his bag into the kitchen where the table was piled high with jugs of apple cider, plates of cookies, and vegetable platters. He chucked the hipster cheddar snacks or whatever the fuck they were on into the freezer and jammed the bag into the recycling. He stomped back to his cubicle and shrugged his coat off as he plopped into his chair. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

“Hey, Race! Want some more coffee?” Davey stepped up to his desk and shook the coffee pot he held in one hand and winced when he splashed some on his hand.

“Yes, God Please.” Race grabbed his mug that had been sitting on his desk for who knows how long and held it up to be filled.

“Joe’s gonna be down in a few minutes so make sure you look like you’re working,” Davey advised as he poured. He looked at Race’s face for the first time and gasped. “What happened to your face!”

“What?”

“Oh, I mean not like, it’s just....your eye.” Davey sputtered. Race whipped around to look at himself in his computer monitor.

“What’re you talking ab-oh, my god.” A black eye had formed where Race had been hit in the face had Trader Joe’s.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Davey, you are a terrible liar.” Race snapped, opening a desk drawer and shoving boxes and papers aside.

“Can someone get Race some ice?” Davey yelled towards the kitchen.

“On it.” Someone yelled back. Davey looked back down to see Race unscrewing the cap of a flask and pouring its contents into his coffee.

“What is that!?” Davey pointed with a dropped jaw.

“Creamer.” Race said knocking the contents of his mug back and then slamming it onto his desk.

“Race! You can’t be tipsy during Joe’s visit!” Davey whisper shouted as Finch spun into the cubicle with an ice pack wrapped in paper towels.

“Oooh, Race is tipsy?” Finch grinned mischievously.

“I won’t be able to survive Joe’s visit if I’m not tipsy.” Race retorted, taking the ice pack from Finch and pressing it against his eye. Finch chuckled and leaned against the empty desk on the other side of the cubicle from Race’s, crossing his arms.

“So you get in a fight or-”

“wHYYYYY HELLLOOOOOOO THERE! IF IT ISN’T JOSEPH PULITZER HIMSELF!” Jack shouted his greeting to alert the rest of the office of their boss’s presence.

“Ah, shit.” Finch leaped up onto the empty desk and hurled himself over the wall into his cubicle. Davey shot out of Race’s space and dashed across the office, the entire office hearing him jump into his chair and then spin into his desk with a thud. A sweaty Jack escorted his boss and a new hire into an office full of stifled laughter. Joseph Pulitzer raised a critical eyebrow but decided to let it slide, and walked up to the front of the office so that he could introduce his newest employee.

“Hello, everyone. As I’m sure you all know, I’m here to introduce our new event planner. Our company has long been on the search for a...” Race paid absolutely zero attention. As Joe droned on, he attempted to balance a pencil on the tip of his nose, wobbling it back and forth until Sniper reached over the wall and snapped it off his face.

“You bitch!” Race’s exclamation was met with a round of disapproving hushes. He just scoffed and pulled out another pencil continuing to wobble, his chair creaking underneath him. When that pencil fell, he looked at it on the ground, decided it was too much work to reach down and pick it up, and grabbed another one from the broken mug by his keyboard filled with pens with mismatched caps, bent paperclips, and an assortment of chewed pencils. As he tilted his head up to place the pencil on his nose, he noticed the middle-aged man still talking at the front of the room. God, he’s still here? Race thought. He shook his head lightly and gently pressed the eraser against his nose.

“So please join me in welcoming Spot Conlon!” A round of applause shook the office, knocking the pencil off Race’s nose.

“Oh, we’re clapping.” Race banged his palms together obnoxiously before realizing there was an unopened email from the school counselor he’d been working with sitting in his inbox. He clicked on it and read it speedily, his eyes scanning for any ounce of the information he’d actually asked for.

“Now, I’ll show you to your desk,” Pulitzer said, Race barely noticing as he scrolled through the counselor's useless paragraphs. “Good afternoon, Mr. Higgins.”

“Look, lady, I don’t care about how many years you’ve been doing this, I just need to know how many kids are applying!” Race yelled at his monitor, completely oblivious to the two men standing behind him. A snort that Race didn’t recognize caused him to look up, and he met eyes with his annoyed boss.

“Wha-Oh, hello, Joseph.” Race grinned widely. “How are you doing on this lovely winter day?”

“Mr. Higgins, I’d like you to meet our, new event planner, Spot Conlon.” Pulitzer gestured to the short but broad man standing next to him with an amused look on his face, the same one who’d snorted at Race’s email rage. Race turned in his chair.

And looked into the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.

They were dark brown and deep, eyes that had seen everything, smart eyes. Eyes that told a story. Eyes that looked at something and figured it out. Eyes that saw people for what they were. Eyes that were smart and hardworking. Eyes that lit up when the rest of the face barely moved. Eyes that Race could get lost in forever.

Eyes that were looking down at him with a confused look.

“Oh my GOD, I’m an idiot, as you’ve probably already guessed.” Race lept up and over-enthusiastically shook the hand that had been outstretched for way too long without meeting a second one.

“No shit,” Spot said with a smirk. Race wanted to crawl into his desk.

“Ah yes, well. I’m sure you will enjoy working here with Mr. Higgins. I will have IT bring up your computer.”

“Sounds good,” Spot nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Pulitzer stretched a hand out to shake, but Spot had already turned around and flopped into his chair. He, unsuccessfully, tried to turn it into a wave and then turned around to leave, Jack jogging up to him to walk him out.

“So tell me,” Spot said, spinning around in his chair to look at Race. “Is he always such a pompous asshole?” Race laughed nervously, still having trouble looking him in the eyes.

“He can be a bit much.” Spot snorted.

“Don’t sugar coat it. I came in a bit late because my bus got in an accident, and he goes ‘oh so you don’t have a car.’ This is New York. Who the fuck has a car?” Race laughed and shook his head. I love this guy, he thought. It’s been five minutes and he’s already my favorite person on earth.

“Alright, fine. He is such a goddamn snob that he puts a minimum price for how much out outfits for the yearly gala cost, and,” Spot banged his hand on his desk in laughter, the sound of his chuckles and the smile on his face making Race’s heart flutter. “and we can’t wear the same thing as we did the year before.”

“Oh god. I wear the same thing every day, he’s sure in for a shock.” Spot looked at the ceiling, right as their coworkers came up to their cubicle, some of them launching themselves over the walls and landing next to them. Spot’s eyes widened. “Is....is this normal for you all to come at each other like the stampede that killed Mufasa?” He leaned toward Race as he said this, and Race felt like his face was on fire as the rest of the office laughed.

“Only when old Scar comes sauntering in and throws someone new into our gorge.” Specs responded, jabbing a thumb towards the door their boss just went through. Everyone laughed, and Race couldn’t help but stare at Spot as he rubbed his chin as he chuckled. You could cut ice with that jawline, he thought.

“Yeah...Alright, so I’m the head of this floor, Jack,” Jack stepped forward and motioned for the others to follow. “This is Hannah, she does most of the talking with prospective new clients, and she will greet you by the door every morning-”

“I’m not like a talking welcome mat or anything, that’s just where my desk is.” Hannah butted in, her comment greeted by a smirk from the coworkers.

“Right, and this is Davey, he does budgeting and money stuff, and this is Albert, head of marketing....” Jack continued to introduce everyone, each person stepping forward as he said their name. “And, saving the best for last, this is the lovely Ms. Medda, head of HR.”

“Alright.” Spot nodded with a pleasant look on his face. “I’ve already forgotten everything you just said, but I’m sure by Christmas I will have stopped calling you the names you’ve all been assigned in my head.”

“No worries,” Medda smiled as everyone chuckled. “We are having a little welcome party for you, so if you wanna follow us to the break room.” Everyone turned out of the cubicle and headed towards the break room, but Spot waited until Race had stood up to start moving.

“Lead the way,” he said, making Race’s ears turn bright red. Once they got there, people were pouring drinks and stacking paper plates high with cookies and tortilla chips and chatting about the events of the day. Medda waved Race and Spot towards the table.

“Help yourself! It’s your party.” She smiled and gestured to the array of food in front of them. Spot bit his lip and inhaled loudly, causing Medda’s face to drop. “What is it?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Spot shook his head, “It’s just that....I’m gluten-free.” Race looked up quickly.

“Oh, dear. Well...I’m sorry about that, we’ll have to keep that in mind next time.” Medda shook her head.

“No, no wait!” Race ran over to the freezer and held up his Trader Joe’s purchase. “I got this gluten-free ch-”

“CHEESY QUINOA BITES!” Spot interrupted and grabbed the box out of Race’s hand giddily. Race chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah...”

“I’m sorry, I LOVE these things, bro,” Spot apologized as he opened the box.

“Wait, really?” Race’s heart leaped.

“Yeah,” Spot looked up at the microwave and squinted at the buttons. “How do you work this thing?” Race laughed at walked over to help him, his smile practically busting his face with the joy that his desperate purchase and been a good one.

An hour or so later, the cheesy bites were gobbled down and everyone was seated at the table, telling Spot office stories and asking him questions. Race sat on his left, sipping root beer and watching closely. Spot was absolutely fascinating. Race just couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. The way his chocolate brown eyes dance when he talked, how he leaned forward on one elbow when he told a story. And his stories! They were incredible! He told stories of growing up in Brooklyn, which was mere miles away, that kept everyone on the edges of their seats and made the walls shake with laughter.

“Speaking of drunks, I’m new to this area, any bars you all would recommend?” Spot asked the group, pulling Race out of his daze.

“Oh well, THAT, my friend is a question for no other than Racetrack Higgins.” Finch walked around the table and gripped Race’s shoulder. “He holds the shot record of the office, and has the best drunk stories this side of the Hudson.” Race felt his ears go red. What a great way to start things off with the cute new guy, he thought, ‘Hello, I’m the office drunk!’ He wanted to just laugh it off, but then he looked up at Spot.

“Is that so?” Spot turned to face Race and placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward, challenging him with his eyes. “Then, please, Enlighten me.” Race looked directly into those eyes and rose to the challenge, straightening up to meet his gaze because he knew, no matter how attractive Spot was, nobody told a story like Racetrack Higgins.

“I’d love to,” Race responded confidently, recognizing his comfort zone. “But I think some tequila would make it a little better.” He looked up at the clock as the group snickered, and back at Spot who wore a smirk that recognized exactly what Race was doing. “It’s about five, what say we all pack up and go down to Maria’s for some shots and tacos?”

“But, Race...it’s Monday,” Crutchie said, looking around for someone else to agree with him.

“Yes, and if I remember correctly happy hour at Maria’s starts an hour earlier on Mondays, so let’s get going.” Race slapped the table and stood up, heading out of the room and all but declaring that they were going. Spot was close behind him and the others shrugged and followed suit as Crutchie silently shook his head.

“So how’s the bartender at Maria’s?” Spot asked Race as he walked into their cubicle, pulling his laptop back off the floor and setting it on his desk.

“Oh, Aaron? Fantastic, heavy pour and great mustache.” Race responded as he slid his jacket over his shoulders.

“Ah, I see you know him quite well.” A look of...something flashed in Spot’s eyes. Was it...jealousy? He wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, Race grabbed hold of it and dragged it back.

“Oh yeah, we go way back.” He said, chuckling as if remembering an embarrassing story. “I’ve spent many a bad breakup with his shaker and that mustache giving me advice.” The same look stayed in Spot’s eyes, but he laughed as they headed out of the office and into the elevator.

“TINA!” Race shouted as he walked through the doors of Maria’s Mexican Bar and Grill, throwing his arms toward the hostess leaning on her elbow at the front desk while his coworkers piled in behind him, shaking off droplets of rain and stomping their feet on the mat in the doorway. She looked up at the group, her long dreadlocks framing her well-highlighted cheekbones and jawline that she drummed against with her long, glittery maroon nails.

“Oh well if it isn’t Shitface Race!” Tina grinned mischievously, gathering a stack of menus in her arms for what was going to be a large table. The group laughed and Spot looked at Race with a dramatic jaw drop.

“Ah, Tina.” Race ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and leaned over the desk on one elbow. “Try not to expose me to much in front of my guests.”

“Oh I won’t,” She assured him, throwing her dreads over her shoulder and beckoned for the group to follow her through the crowded restaurant to the largest booth. “Now will you be requiring any tissues on this visit and will you be ordering your usual three margaritas?” She joked as she winked at Race and gestured for the coworkers to sit.

“Actually, my dear,” Race clarified over the chuckles, folding his hands on the table and swallowing hard when he noticed Spot sliding into the booth next to him. “We are here for shots!”

“And food!” Elmer added, greedily opening the menu and licking his lips.

“Then I’ll start y’all with some chips and salsa?” Tina clasped her hands together in front of her.

“And guac!” Race hit Tina with finger guns and dancing eyebrows.

“It’s extra!” She shot right back at him with her manicured nails.

“We can stretch it,” Jack said and slung his arm over Spot’s shoulders. “This is a cause for celebration, after all, Spot here is new.” Spot waved awkwardly at Tina and leaned away from Jack, causing Race to inhale sharply when he felt his shoulder brush against him.

“That’s code for ‘Jacks buying.’“ He said, jutting a thumb towards his manager.

“Good to know I won’t have to split the bill!” Tina smiled, and spun on her heel and walked towards the kitchen, ignoring Jack's protests and the group's laughter.

“Hey!” The group looked up to see two women holding hands, one redheaded and one dirty blonde, waving at them as they weaved in between tables to get to their booth.

“Oh my god, Kath and Sarah!” Henry waved back and scooted as far in as he could, attempting to make room for the couple.

“What are y’all doing here?” Sarah asked as Katherine squished up against Henry and pulled her down to sit on her lap.

“We’re celebrating a new member of our team on floor six,” Mush gestured towards Spot.

“With shots!” Race said gleefully. Spot leaned towards him and whispered in his ear. He was barely able to hear what he said over the pounding of his heart.

“Who are they?” Race opened his mouth but was unable to form words, wishing he had asked Tina to break a round of waters. He swallowed and looked straight ahead at the women, knowing that if he looked Spot in the eyes this close he would explode.

“The lively ginger is the one and only Katherine Pulitizer, yes, the daughter of our boss. Interestingly enough, she works for our biggest competitor.” Race explained, stretching his hand toward his superior’s offspring.

“A fact that he does not know and shall never know,” Katherine added, her eyes wide. Race could see Spot’s smirk out of the corner of his eye and he melted a little bit just at the sight of it.

“And that lovely gal on her lap is Sarah Jacobs, she works upstairs in design and is Davey and Les’s sister.” Medda continued the introduction. Sarah grinned, fanning her dimples with awkward jazz hands.

“And this, ladies, is Spot, our new event planner.” Race looked back at Spot and caught his eye, and immediately whipped back around when he felt his face on fire. Katherine noticed and waggled her eyebrows at him before cupping her hands over her mouth to whisper into her girlfriend’s ear, whatever she said resulting in Sarah dramatically dropping her jaw at him. Thankfully, before either of them could say anything, Tina came up to the table, her arms lined with baskets of chips and ramequins of salsa and guacamole. Followed close behind her, to Race’s excitement, was another waiter, holding a tray of shots.

“Holy shit,” Romeo laughed as the group clapped and whistled, excitedly rubbing their hands together for the next events of the night. As Tina took down orders, Race tried to get someone’s attention to slide the shots his way. Eventually, Spot noticed and he smiled, making Race want the liquor even more so it could calm the butterflies in his stomach.

“I’ve got an idea,” Spot grabbed his napkin and slid the fork out of it and, reaching across the table, dragged the tray towards them. Race quickly followed suit, sliding the salt shaker with them as they pulled it across the table.

“Good thinking,” He winked at him, and Race immediately reached for a shot while Spot licked the back of his hand and poured salt on to the moistened area. By now, Tina had taken everyone’s order and the group was munching on chips and watching the pair like popcorn and a movie. “Now, if you please, Race, entertain me with some of your infamous drunkard’s tales.” Their friends banged on the table in excitement, egging Race on.

“Once,” Race quickly dabbed on and licked off his salt and then downed a shot, slamming the glass back onto the table when it was empty, “upon a hangover....” Spot’s eyes caught his, the way they dance intensifying the warm fuzzy feeling the tequila had gifted Race as their group erupted into wall-shaking laughter, carefree and ready to get plastered.

“Are you FUCKING serious!?” Spot jokingly shoved Race as they exited the bar for the night, a little harder than he probably meant to as the liquor coursing through him had lessened his awareness of his strength. “Rhiana was really there?” Race’s heart still jumped at his touch, but it was less overwhelming with the buzzing of his head.

“Yes, and let me tell you, Rhi-Rhi loves her RUM RUM RUM RUM RUM,” Race stumbled into cool Manhattan air, imitating the hip-hop star.

“That’s amAZING!” Spot’s eyes went wide at him as their drunk friends staggered out behind them, each laughing harder than the next.

“HOLY! FUCK!” Sarah shouted as she stomped onto the icy cement. “IT IS! COLD! AS FUCK!”

“YES! We should build a lil’ fire.” Davey squatted down to warm his hands on an imaginary bonfire, tripping, and landing on his ass in a puddle of giggles.

“We cannot do that, SILLY.” Jack bent over to help him up, almost falling himself. “There is no wood!” He waved around at the absence of trees as his friends nodded in agreement.

“Well, then maybe we can heat things up ourselves,” Davey retorted, slamming his lips on Jack’s and aggressively pushing his fingers through his hair. The friends gasped and whooped at them, until Jack pulled away, scratching the back of his head with rosy cheeks.

“Ah, AHEM, there’s our Uber!” He pointed, grabbing Davey’s hand and dragging him towards the black sedan that had just pulled up in front of the group. Jack waved goodbye as he opened the door until Davey kissed him again and shoved him inside the vehicle. The coworkers laughed as they pulled away, all drunkenly mumbling about the cold or about work tomorrow, as one by one their Lyfts and Ubers came to take them home.

“Oh my god, I’m going to be hungover for my second day,” Spot whispered to Race as they watched Sarah and Katherine hop into a red Toyota. It was only when he said that did Race realize how close they were standing together. He immediately sobered up as he felt Spot’s shoulders rub against his as his coworker huddled toward him, trying to escape the brisk winds.

“It’-” His voice cracked and Spot laughed obnoxiously, adding to the pink the weather had spread on Race’s ears. “It’ll be fine. I’ve been popping aspirin and vomiting in between meetings on multiple occasions. And this time everyone will be just as gone, so you won’t stick out as much.” Spot chuckled again.

“I guess.” They stood in silence for a while, watching their friends leave, and soon they were the only two left. Race wondered if he should say something, or if he had made him uncomfortable, but Spot spoke before he could. “I had a really fun time here,” He said and turned to look at Race. “I’m going to like working here. I can feel it.” Race laughed dryly, looking directly forward and watching his breath curl into the evening air.

“Don’t be too sure, you’re going to have to sit next to me every day.” Spot turned to him again, and Race felt compelled to meet his gaze and realized his eyes had gone soft.

“That’s the best part,” Spot smiled, and even though he was freezing and he could barely feel his legs and his fingers were burning from the cold, Race felt a rush of warmth shoot through him, racing through his veins and into his joints, his heart almost bursting. “Now, you wouldn’t happen to know what the fuck a gray Corolla looks like do you?” Spot looked back down at his phone as if he hadn’t just set Race’s heart on fire. It took him a minute to form a response.

“I-uh-I think you have your answer right there.” Race pointed to a car pulling up to the sidewalk. Spot looked up and nodded, waved to the driver, and then turned back to Race.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah,” Race shuffled his feet. Spot looked at his own feet as if searching for something to say between his shoe buckles.

“By the way,” He looked back up, having found the right words. “Where is a good place for coffee by the office? You know your bars so well you must know the best place for recovery from them in the morning.” Race chuckled.

“The Chadwick Sister’s Coffee makes a mean latte.” He responded. He debated saying more, and then finally took the risk. “I could...meet you at the office early, walk you to it, say 8:30?” He licked his lips and waited for what seemed like thirty hours for Spot’s answer.

“Sounds good.” Spot smiled. This seemed like the end of the conversation, but he didn't turn to leave. “Thanks for showing me the bar, it was fantastic, even though I still think you inflated your shot numbers a little.”

“You’ll beat me next time.” Race smirked. Spot cocked his head as if studying his features with intense curiosity.

“Today was a good day, Race." He said, slowly turning away. "Good night,"

“Good night,” Race said, quieter than he meant to, so quiet he wondered if Spot even heard him. He watched as his new coworker climbed into the Carolla and pulled away. He stood there until he could no longer see the brake lights of the car, contrasted by the exhaust shooting out from underneath the trunk.

“I need to go home.” He said out loud to himself once the street was dark and the only light was coming from the bar behind him. He hadn’t called a cab, and he pulled out his phone to do so but then realized a stop for his bus was just a block away. He jogged towards it, his fists firmly pressed against the bottom of his pocket, wondering if he missed the bus. He wasn’t concerned. Nothing in the world could upset him right now, not even the aggressive sleet that came ripping through the air as his bus stopped at the light just before his stop.

“Sorry about the wait,” The bus driver, a nervous red-headed woman with a septum piercing, apologized, anxiously squeezing the steering wheel as Race climbed through the bus’s open door and up the steps.

“No worries,” He assured her, scanning his bus pass through the back of his phone case. “No worries at all.” He walked to the very back of the bus, passing an old woman who squinted to read her beauty magazine in the dim light and a short man in his early thirties, who sat clutching several paper grocery bags close to his chest. Race slid into a seat just as the bus pulled away from the curb. He leaned his head against the window, watching the raindrops speed down the window, illuminated by the bright traffic lights of the city, Spot’s words echoing in his mind.

He’s right, Race thought to himself.

Today was a good day.

23 notes · View notes

fluffynin · 5 years ago

Text

I rolled my eye lights as the three humans bickered. When I had Kris tell them to explain the so-called "strengthening" system of these weapons... Well, all three came up with different answers.

Which, with thinking about Kris and I being technically the same being, but so different... Makes sense as we have confirmed all four of us Legendary Heroes come from different Japans, or worlds to be exact.

So why are they saying the other is lying?

"HEY, HEY! CALM DOWN! WE SHOULDN'T FIGHT!" Sansy floated over with Papy, both brothers pulling at the souls of Ren and Motoyasu to seperate the trio.

"yeah. we are kind of up a shit creek without... oh, wrong saying," Papy flinched as he corrected himself.

Huh? Why was... Oh, yeah. My job as the taxi of the River Maze. I wonder if I can still access that place with our current situation. At least if we can get back to the Void, we can vacate any other Gasters who have ended up in there to this world.

Not a fix, but should be way safer than the constant threat of Anomalies trying to eat whatever code they find. Plus, I rather put my trust in other versions of myself than whatever so-called "help" that lousy excuse of a king was gathering. At least if there are other scientists and doctors like Kris and me, we could look into these Waves of Catastrophe properly instead of the half-assed way these humans been doing with summoning who-knows-what and throwing the poor souls into what sounds an all out slaughter.

Which, oddly, looking at my fellow heroes, they are all so young. Sure, techinically I was once human, but I was at least around Kris's age of about 200 years or so, off a few decades since comparing his now Darkner appearance to what he properly is as a magic skeleton. These three never seen the horrors of war. Hell, with the methods they told me... It almost sounds like they never been in a real...

I clapped my hands together and everyone jumped.

"Huh? What?" I yanked on Kris's sleeve to get his attention to my hands

-I think I figured it out.- I signed and opened up the menus.

Each of the humans said they played a game with similar settings to this world. I, myself, love to play MMORPGs and even got pretty well set up in a guild that got pretty good.

Yet, if I use that as a reference, what if the enhancement methods the trio talked about was not of the games they played... But instead it was the best way of enhancement overall for how the world's operating systems worked.

I noticed glitching and a prompt came up with the question if I wanted to adjust my current and only shield: Small Shield

I confirmed and took in a calming breathe.

I was never really good at this, but I've always done it to myself to keep my LOVe at 1. Plus, I currently have a little EXP to spend from the Anomalies I took out before this mess, so it is worth a shot. All I'll lost is EXP which is a win for me either way.

I touched the gem on my shield and felt myself submerged within the depths of its inner being. A huge web of symbols and lines, almost all dulled out. I went to the one that was dimmly glowed more than the others.

I held out my hand with a spark and pushed into the light. The symbol went ablazed and the flames flickered down the lines to other symbols... And branched into new lines and new symbols. I felt a flood of warmth before my senses returned to reality.

"You okay, Iwatani-san?" Itsuki asked.

Ah, right. I always took much longer than Coordinators. A big reason I never did it to others for payment.

Yet, looking through the menus and manual...

Adjustments and transfering of EXP and LOVe to improve stats and such. As well as new branches that demand... Oh, skulls.

Just what is going on with this weird ass world.

Well, let's focus first on my discovery as Adjustments weren't the only thing added to my menu and manual.

"📖⏺" I let the text boxes float up from my mouth.

"Wha?" Motoyasu voiced the confusion on all three humans' faces. Though, even Kris had a high brow arced.

Seriously? We both speak Wingdings and he never spoke shorthand?

"n says the book records?" Papy translated. "o-kay?" The twin skulls looked at each other with worried looks.

Itsuki and Ren, however, had their eyes widened. Itsuki motioned the air and narrowed his eyes. He nearly fell when something happened on the interface only visible to himself and me.

"Oh! The manual records new stuff as we learn it!" Itsuki grinned. "None of us are wrong, but instead all right!"

"But how?" Ren grimanced at his own menus. "I don't get your methods would work to make our weapons stronger." I motioned to Kris.

"Different operating systems, one unit?" Kris asked with decipering my signs. Oh, good. Was a bit worried as our sign lanuages were a bit different with some words.

However, seemed that got the idea across for Motoyasu and Ren.

"So our weapons act like hardware that can take on various software." Ren said as he gotten a glitchy interface. " Wait... Could this be why we can't work together? Our weapons' original systems conflicts with the others?"

"It would explain why we defaulted to different set ups." Motoyasu crossed his arms. "So to make up for not able to work together, we can share our enhancement methods with each other to increase our strength."

I snapped my fingers and did jazz hands with a grin.

"But, what's your method?" I felt the ice in the trio's glares at me.

"We shared ours, yet you haven't said... Oh, right..." They flinched at my double birdie.

"My method is called Adjustment." Kris translated. "It's a bit hard to explain, so it would be easier if you let me do it. I'm not that good, but it should allow the better users of this the means to do it."

"Wait, this isn't a video game mechanic?" Itsuki asked with a raised brow.

"AH! THAT!" Sansy jumped. "YOU REALLY SURE YOU WANNA TRY ADJUSTING THEIR WEAPONS? THEY AREN'T-"

I tapped my shield's gem and signed.

"They are similar enough. I got it to work." Kris crossed his arms. "But what is this Adjustment thing, dear brother." Kris gave me the "Dad Eyes." I felt my throat tightened into a gulp.

-Explain later. Just think of it as the simple version of what turned you from skeleton to human.- Kris's grimance deepened. -I just never thought I could go in reverse. Usually can get the advance method to work with turning human souls into monster kind.-

"I see. So it enhances the soul aspects of the weapons and users." Kris caught the hint and let it go. "It's magic, so it is a little hard to express it in... Human language?" Kris let out a sigh. "At least from our world, magic is usually more expressive than logically explained. Our kind... Our race of humans are the few able to express magic much like other magical races."

"So... You're mages." Ren said with a nod. "Like how VR is common in my world. In a way, it makes since considering Shields were bad in the game I played."

"Wait, the same for you, too?" Motoyasu asked in shock.

"My game also did Shields badly," Itsuki flinched. "Which makes it worse seeing you in a wheelchair, Iwatani-san. It's like you got no straw at all instead of the short straw."

What? I just raised an eyebrow with confusion.

How was being in a wheelchair bad? Hell, these were the best wheels I had in my life! Custom-made and foldable, perfect for someone like me who uses wheels for ease of life.

"ah, right. humans aren't used to n's type." Papy rolled his eyelight.

"I don't get it." Kris huffed. "Doesn't a wheelchair help increase my brother's abilities?"

"Ah, but we will be in combat." Motoyasu gave me a loot of pity. "How can a crippled person-"

Both twins burst into laughter while Kris glared daggers at the three humans. Ah, right, monster kind is used to having to adapt all sorts of ways to help each other living Underground... Especially after the pollution turned the River into the maze twisted with time and space itself.

"What... Oh," Ren went wide eyed. "Right, a mage. When I think how magic is used in the game... Of course a Legendary Hero specializing in magic would focus on defense."

"Huh?" Motoyasu cocked his head.

"Oh, yeah! Pure mages were always weak to close combat. So, instead of having a staff, you have a means of defense as you lob spells at the enemies."

"Wha? Don't cha mean bullets?" Kris snorted. "Spells are a human thing that lack any expression. Bullets are far faster and effect in combat than chanting stupid phrases." Kris snapped his fingers for a bone bullet to appear and he balanced it on the tip of one.

"B-Bullet?" All three asked before they went pale. "Like in... a bullet hell game?"

I guess one could call my magic akin to a magic bullet hell. I sure know the Eighth Fallen probably saw our fights as such.

"Bullet hell?" The skull twins and once skeleton asked with confused dazes.

Me?

I just gave a devish smile.

"👍"

-----------

Trying to get out of the worldbuilding trap with writing linked short fics. This one came from the sketch above and just snowballed into this. Hope it is enjoyable as it was for me to write this.

PS - Correcting some mistakes.

#fellswap #sketch #undertale au #gaster #undertale #undertaleau #fanart #wd gaster #papyrus #sans #naofumi iwatani #rising of the shield hero #shield hero #crossover au #crossover fanart #fic #crossoverfic #snippet #shield

16 notes · View notes