#added to the roaster

[amirawrah]

yall hold on....

what the-

how am i just-

why his he so-

[shadesoftheshield]

[sodaneko]

these nonchalant men keep attracting me like venus flytraps help

[misforgotten2]

In today’s money this would be just over $200. With the price of electricity in the 1952 this still wouldn’t have yet  paid for itself.

Parents Magazine -  April 1952

[turquoisephoenix]

Ghost Roaster Headcanons

Okay, since that last post/backstory got a lot of people interested, time to post some headcanons on the Roastmeister instead of answering a bunch of asks.

Yes, there’s a Read More. This got long. Again.

*Original name: Olav Ingle Ahlstrom. (for now, this is a work in progress, but something vaguely Scandinavian)

*Original species: Frost Elf

*Age before death: Early 30's, a rising star in the culinary arts.

*Sexuality: Grey ace demisexual. If you asked him directly, he'll shrug and be like "I'm mainly into food". Will joke that he's a little fruity because food humor.

*Before he turned, he was a famous celebrity chef in direct competition to Chef Pepper Jack and the two of them were rivals. Olav saw the rivalry all in good fun and regularly teased Chef Pepper Jack; Pepper Jack hated his ass and thought his methods were the work of a drooling imbecile.

*Olav's style of chef was a Guy Fieri type who regularly traveled the weirdest parts of Skylands and was sampling all sorts of funny dishes. He was an affable and funny weirdo who could make something edible out of ANYTHING and his books were a hit. His sheep wool pizza was actually amazing, even if it was hard to get exactly right.

*Olav and Chef Pepper Jack's rivalry was so strong and public that it's been often rumored that Chef Pepperjack KILLED Olav to explain Olav's sudden disappearance. To make matters worse, Chef Pepperjack has lied a couple times and flat out said "Yeah I killed that loser, he couldn't handle the heat!" just for the lolz.

*He knows that his name is Olav. Ghost Roaster tries to lie and say that he's not sure if he's the famous Olav because Olav is actually a somewhat common name for frost elves, but he has a horrible feeling deep in his stomach that he is that famous guy with all the young budding chefs that looked up to him and has been directly avoiding connecting himself to Olav because he feels guilty and ashamed. So any attempts at returning to the culinary arts is under his Ghost Roaster alias.

*Ghost Roaster doesn't remember all of his previous life or what happened after he transformed. He just remembers pain. And hunger. And ripping things to shreds. But the memories are starting to come back.

*Master Eon met Ghost Roaster because he was told to come down to the Land of the Undead and destroy a ravenous chained up ghoul that was being held in captivity. Instead, Eon took pity on him and made him a Skylander.

*Olav and Ghost Roaster are actually pretty similar in personality, just that Ghost Roaster is more likely to slip into dark humor and joke about eating people. This is another reason why he's avoiding reclaiming the Olav name; he doesn't want to find out about any family or friends that will just see him as a gross monster.

*He's rapidly rising in the ranks in the Undead culinary art world and now has a new rival in Batterson. Thankfully the two of them are way friendlier to each other.

*Ghost Roaster is one of those prickly types where once you push back all the thorns and befriend him, he'll move the very rocks and earth to help you. And send you memes at 3 am with a "this you?".

*Master Eon purposefully avoids sending Ghost Roaster on a mission that involves Chef Pepper Jack because while an encounter with him might regain all of Ghost Roaster's lost memories, it might also cause him to have a Bloodborne-esque rampage as he tries to END Chef Pepper Jack.

*No one except for Master Eon and Hugo have connected the dots between Olav that famous chef that disappeared and Ghost Roaster and he's very reluctant with sharing that information because he feels like if word got out, his old self's reputation would be damaged forever.

*Best Skylander friends: Ignitor, Fiesta, Funny Bone, Grim Creeper, Hex (ironically), Wrecking Ball, Fright Rider, Stealth Elf, Slobber Tooth (who samples his food)

*He's the ultimate in "I tell jokes to mask the pain" silly guys.

Best Friends, NPC edition: Eon, Batterson, Flynn, and Mags.

*Worst Skylander match ups: CAMO, Food Fight (is a tasty food), Shroomboom (same), Sonic Boom (regularly makes tasty foods he can't have), Jet Vac (same), Krypt King (won't let him crack him open and eat the tasty ghost inside like a lobster tail)

[decastration]

blog roll: deathpreserved, memphisto, @goldnghost, fear-gasm, gothgfx

[hungnitan]

You know the first thing I can thinks up ?

WHAT THE HELL IS HMU !?

I'm definitely into older side now (lol)

[theesirenteller]

my loves

Rio 💘 Money heist

Christian Varela Expósito 💘 Elite

[incorrectbatfamandfriends]

Headcanon that Batburger was sued when they added the Red Robin Meal to their menu.

In court it lead to the arguement that it was clearly not a violation of trademark since it was obviously named after the Gotham Vigilante, whose name was registered on several team roasters.

This leads to a massive lawsuit against Red Robin and any teams he’s on. Except it’s almost impossible to serve him papers.

Tim doesn’t find out until he’s dropping off Two Face at Arkham- where he’s served papers while waiting to get Harvey re-admitted.

He ends up taking Harvey’s legal advice. He wins the suit (After Two Face breaks out, specifically to represent him. The Red Robin Lawyers argue against this, but the judge simply says “what did you expect when you sued a vigilante?”), and when news gets out he changed his name to Drake a year later, Harvey breaks out just to threaten him if he doesn’t change it back.

[void-lingerer]

getting ready for artfight 2024!

[randomnameless]

I guess Fodlan, as it's written, would imply that the "sudden illnesses" hitting Maurice's scions would be Agarthans doing Agarthan things, because per Nopes, they're the root of everything wrong (tm) in this verse.

Even if Houses suggested, with the rando who insults Marianne in her paralogue, that normal people, aka Bob and Carol, would also be ones to hunt Maurice's descendants believing them to be cursed (a throwback to the Loptyr blooded people and the witch hunts from Jugdral?).

However, Catherine in her support with Linhardt mentions something similar to Momo's ramblings, Catherine says she feels the relic "eating away" her soul, Maurice blames his urges on his "nabatean blood" and in the notes believed to have been written by him, there's a mention of a body falling to "ashes" and "evil", would the "evil" here mean the Nabatean/Relic "eating away" at the wielder's soul? 10k years of lore are 10k years of lore so we will never know the end of this story, but I don't think Momo or the Nabatean he "borrowed power" from are special in this situation, it's possible Catherine after overusing her sword could become a sentient black beast, much like Claude and his gang after, just like Maurice, bathing in the blood of a saint (in Nopes).

But as you noted, there's a link between Thales, Supreme Leader and the Crest of the Beast.

Is it only metaphorical, as in Supreme Leader is doubly called a beast, first by Dimitri (more explicit in the JP version of Tru Piss) and, in a way, by Thales who gave her a "beast" themed weapon, which is actually a mockery of a relic, since Aymr is fake one (it needs Agarthium to be repaired!) - sure it'd be part of the all those clues taking inspiration from buddhism telling the player that Supreme Leader's path is the wrong one that completely flew over the localised versions (granted I wonder how you could accurately localise the "beast path" in a game without adressing the entire context!) for a Doylist reason...

Or it's maybe Thales who realised how Momo still managed to keep his sanity after transforming unlike other random crest beasts (but Maurice is specifically noted to have been the only one who transformed with his relic!) so he thought "why not" and designed Hegemongard to work around a similar crest stone?

It'd be the cheapest explanation, but come on, we're talking about the same devs who gave Marianne the power to speak to animals... when Linhardt and Hapi's support chain mention that this power was originally Timotheos'... Was the DLC retconning Marianne's existence 8 months after the release of the base game, or what?

--

As for Luca not having a crest, maybe he shared his crest with another Nabatean (maybe he was another water dragon but Indech was more well-known around?) so every "water dragon sign" became "Crest of Indech" instead of being "Crest of Luca".

The identity of the Saint said to have been slained by Maurice, Nopes implies Momo killed them during the battle of Gronder (in 46? 45 years before Tailtean?) but concerning the number of saints, well, the FE16 artbook has this thing :

The first coffin on the left mentions... 16 saints???

(the one below mentions 4 "holy warriors", I guess they're the 4 Saints aka Cichol'n'co).

Was Luca one of the "16 saints"? Was he a shifter, who were the other 15 ? Gajus, Marcelle and Iris and the other named golems, were all saints Nabateans or some of them were hybrids or even humans with crests? Was Flayn's mom one of those 16 saints?

Everything's fair game since we won't have confirmation about this stuff (but we sure needed umbrellas or Fraud's real name revealed in an interview bcs who gaf about lore from the game, especially when it concerns nabateans?)

That all those accidents are just them going after anyone who may have actual Nabatean heritage.

That's maybe me cooking nonsense with the Nuvelles being Nabateans hybrids, but that'd fit with their "need" to hide who they are, aka Noa's scions from the Empire itself, if they think the Empire is compromised by Agarthans.

Or, if we want to hc a Fodlan where "everything wrong" doesn't have a single cause, I hc'd that humans would be worried about hybrid nabateans existing, since their existence would threaten/ruin the classicist system they tried to base their countries on (especially Adrestia) : if Rhea's perfectly happy living on her rock, who's to say a Nabatean hybrid, even if it's not one who has a crest of Seiros, wouldn't be a threat to the Emperor who's supposed to rule over Fodlan because of the covenant of the red blood and white sword + claiming to be Seiros and Willy's descendants?

(then Faerghus happens, and they're even more pissed because instead of sitting on her rock doing nothing but preaching nonsense, Rhea now meddles in "human affairs" to prevent further escalation especially since Loog defeated/killed the Emperor instead of supporting Adrestia's right to continue their blood games with northern barbarians)

We know at some point Emperors became paranoiac about Nabateans "sekritly controlling humanity", but I guess, due to their resentment towards Rhea after Faerghus + Agarthans telling them stuff + maybe the entire hybrid!Lycaon fallout that is only kept secret to the masses, I could see them participate and/or hunt everyone who has a chance to be Nabatean!blooded, and not just with a "crest".

@randomnameless

Something caught my eye with Maurice the other day. According to Hopes, in the document titled Crestological Mysteries,

“Whenever it became known that someone possessed this detestable Crest, they would suddenly fall ill or meet their end in an untimely accident. Inevitably, the Crest became an unspoken curse...“

“Suddenly fall ill” or untimely accident at this point makes me curious about the involvement of TWSITD. If someone is exposed to have this Crest, TWSITD step in to remove them from the gene pool, like out of all the Crests they want this one to die out. Not helping matters is that they used the Crest Stone of Maurice when making Aymr, and Thales chucks it at Edelgard when he captures her in Azure Gleam.

At this point, I’m willing to bet that Edelgard’s Hegemon Husk form is the result not just of bringing out the full power of her two Crests, but also the Agarthans using it to transform her (And then Thales using their techniques to control Edelgard like a typical Crest Beast). Something about that Crest in particular, one that gives Marianne the ability to communicate with animals, turns even people with Crests into Crest Beasts but still allows them to retain their minds (though Edelgard seems off after her transformation, likely due to her Crests not matching). Maybe what happened to Maurice isn’t because he overused his Relic, but simply because of the specific Crest he had?

Also, it mentions Maurice killing a “holy warrior.” So, a Saint. Thinking he was the one who killed Saint Luca, considering we know the other Saints and Apostles survived. But the strange thing is, there is no Crest associated with Luca and he was implied to be a shapeshifter.

“...As another example, though much said about him is likely fiction, we have Saint Luca and his many offspring. The man loved love, and had great affection for the many children he brought into the world. However, appearances can be deceiving. Was he truly the comely saint? If we consider that perhaps he was simply using some sort of power to change his appearance, then...”

What happened here? If he had many offspring, you’d think his Crest would be a little more common, and this is based on how they were seen by the people of the Empire. Luca was having children with humans. And then there’s Maurice and his sons being said to have sown his wild oats, which is why his Crest just pops up from time to time...

Sothis refers to Flayn as “The Kind One,” but it comes off as she assumes Flayn is another Nabatean in a body she doesn’t recognize. It’s implied Sothis confused Flayn for her mother, The Kind One that Sothis created. We also know there are at least two Crest Stones of Maurice, while there are two Relics associated with the Crest of Lamine (the Rafail Gem and the Ichor Scroll) and the Crest of Charon (Thunderbrand and Suttungr's Mystery). Think the best explanation for this is that Blutgang was made out of one of Luca’s childre with another Nabatean, then Luca fought Maurice during the War of Heroes and died. The Saint that had many children died to a weapon made out of one of his.

The Crest of Luca becomes known as the Crest of the Beast.

“...The Crest of the Beast was inherited by the wild oats sown by Maurice and his sons. They lived on in the shadows of various clans and families, and in particular lords who bore a grudge towards the Empire.”

But at the same time, people who are known to have the Crest end up dying due to the Agarthans. Maybe the answer to why they target the Crest isn’t because of the Crest, but because it could also come from Luca himself. That all those accidents are just them going after anyone who may have actual Nabatean heritage.

[p0orbaby]

A Drop in the Ocean

summary: you buy barça for alexia

warnings: none

a/n: requested on the back of a similar one i wrote

word count: 1.5k

-

You don’t even think about it anymore, the money. The commas and zeros stopped meaning anything the moment they started adding up faster than you could count. You don’t remember exactly when it happened, just that it did. One day you were checking the balances on your brokerage account religiously, watching the stock tickers on your phone at breakfast, and then at some point—probably after that second meeting in Geneva or maybe the fourth trip to Dubai—you stopped caring altogether. The accounts became endless, infinite, numbers that only existed on a screen and held no weight in the real world. You could buy anything, do anything. You do.

You’ve bought Barcelona FC. For Alexia.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult purchase, and that’s what bothers you, how easy it was. You’d made a few calls, orchestrated a few backroom meetings with men in navy-blue suits who wear Patek Philippe watches but don’t know how to spell "integrity," and within weeks, it was done. The club—one of the most storied institutions in world football—was now, for all intents and purposes, yours. They were failing in every department that mattered, so it wasn’t hard to make them see reason. The board was crumbling under its own corruption and incompetence anyway, the men in charge having long ago stopped caring about anything other than their own salaries. They saw the numbers you offered and couldn’t sign the dotted lines fast enough.

You’re sitting in the back of your Bentley Bentayga—the V8 model because the W12 felt too much, like gilding the lily—watching the city of Barcelona pass by in blurred streaks of sunlight and shadows. You don’t drive yourself anymore; it’s not that you’ve forgotten how, but why would you bother when you can pay someone to do it for you? You’re sipping on an iced Americano from a local coffee roaster that isn’t La Colombe but isn’t Starbucks either—because Starbucks is for tourists and people who don’t care what real coffee tastes like—and tapping your thumb against the cool glass, counting down the minutes until you get home. Home isn’t the place you grew up, or even the first penthouse you bought in Barcelona—God, you’ve already sold that one off—but the sprawling villa in the hills that overlooks the city like a predator watching its prey.

You’d bought the house because Alexia liked it. You had taken her to see it on a whim, even though you knew you’d buy it regardless of her opinion. But she’d loved it, her eyes lighting up in that way they do when she’s genuinely moved by something, not when she’s just being polite or trying to please you. It’s rare, that reaction, and you’ve noticed it only happens when she’s either on the pitch or somewhere quiet, somewhere she can breathe. It makes you feel something, a tightness in your chest, almost a panic, like the world’s collapsing in on itself, but in a good way. If there even is a good way for that to happen.

Your phone buzzes, vibrating against the buttery-soft leather of your seat. You glance at it and see it’s a text from her.

Training's over. Home soon?

You smile, the kind of smile that makes the people around you uneasy, because they never know if it’s genuine or not. It is, but it’s small, fleeting, like everything in your life that isn't Alexia.

On my way. You send the reply quickly, almost too quickly, like you’re not supposed to care that much. But you do. You always do.

You met Alexia when you were young—stupid young—back when you still believed that success was something you had to fight for. She was everything you weren’t: grounded, focused, humble. Even now, with all the accolades and the Ballon d'Ors and the fanfare, she still feels *real* in a way you don’t anymore. She still eats cereal for breakfast sometimes, not some overpriced organic granola shipped in from the Swiss Alps. She’ll sit on the sofa in her sweatpants and watch trashy reality TV with you, her feet in your lap, like the world outside doesn’t exist. Like she’s not the face of women’s football, the woman everyone wants to be. You want to be her too, sometimes.

But then you remember: she’s yours. And you’re the one with the power, the one pulling the strings now. You’re the one who’s going to fix everything for her.

You think about the RFEF, the Royal Spanish Football Federation, and how utterly revolting they are, how they’ve mishandled everything about the women’s game. It makes you angry, but not in the way normal people get angry, not in that quick, fleeting way. Your anger is cold, calculated, the kind of anger that doesn’t make itself known until it’s too late. You’d called in favours—favours you didn’t even know you had—and now you’re restructuring the whole thing from the inside out. The old guard, the men who’ve spent years belittling and undermining women’s football, will be gone soon, and they don’t even see it coming. You’ll replace them with people who actually care, people who understand what’s at stake.

Alexia doesn’t know yet. She doesn’t need to. She already carries enough weight on her shoulders; you see it in the way she moves, the subtle slump in her posture after a long day. She’s been fighting this fight for years, but you can take it from here. You’ll make sure she never has to fight again.

When you finally pull up to the villa, the sky is turning that particular shade of burnt orange that only seems to exist in Spain. The driver opens your door, and you step out, the sound of your Louboutins clicking against the cobblestone driveway. You’re wearing something understated but expensive—a cream-coloured silk blouse from The Row, tailored trousers that cost more than most people’s monthly rent, and a watch that could fund a small country’s healthcare system for a year. You’ve always preferred quiet luxury, the kind of wealth that doesn’t scream but whispers, softly, in the background. Alexia likes that about you. At least, you think she does.

You walk through the front door—minimalist, custom-made, imported from Italy—and the scent of jasmine fills your lungs. Alexia’s perfume. She’s here.

You find her in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa, her legs up on the coffee table, still in her training kit. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands falling loose around her face. She’s scrolling through her phone, probably reading up on whatever the media is saying about the latest match, and she looks up when you walk in. There’s that smile again, the one that makes everything else disappear for a moment, just a moment, but long enough to matter.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft, like it’s only meant for you.

You cross the room and sit next to her, pulling her legs into your lap, your fingers automatically tracing circles on her shins. You don’t say anything for a while, because neither of you needs to. The silence between you is comfortable, familiar, the kind of silence that only comes when two people have been through everything together and still come out on the other side.

“I bought the club,” you say, casually, like you’re talking about picking up milk from the store.

Alexia looks at you, her eyes widening for a second before she catches herself. She’s good at that, at pretending nothing surprises her, but you know her well enough to see through it.

“You did what?” she asks, her tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

“I bought Barcelona,” you repeat, leaning back against the cushions. “They were fucking it all up, especially with the women’s team. I’m fixing it. For you”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and you can see the gears turning in her head, trying to process what you’ve just said. It’s not that she doesn’t believe you; she does. It’s just…a lot.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says finally, but there’s no conviction in her voice. She knows as well as you do that you don’t *have* to do anything. You want to.

“I did,” you reply, your voice firm. “Because they don’t care about you. Not like I do”

She looks at you for a long moment, and you can see the conflict in her eyes, the push and pull of wanting to argue but knowing there’s no point. You’ve already made up your mind. You always have.

“Thank you,” she says eventually, and the sincerity in her voice catches you off guard. You’re used to people thanking you, sure, but it’s always perfunctory, transactional. This is different. This is real.

You lean in and kiss her, slow and soft, and for a moment, everything is perfect. You don’t think about the money or the power or the corruption you’ve spent years navigating. You don’t think about the board meetings or the backroom deals or the restructuring of the RFEF. You just think about her, and how she’s the only thing that makes any of it worth it.

When you pull back, she’s smiling, and it’s that smile again—the one that makes your chest tighten and your heart race in a way that nothing else does. Not even the money.

“Let’s go fix everything,” you say, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you already have.

[arc-misadventures]

So, for your consideration for the VTuber line. VTubers tend to have their specific circles, their regular collab groups. In every group, there is always one in particular who just can't help but suffer from scuff almost every stream, and there is always the one who fills the role of group tech support. I feel like Jaune would absolutely be the tech support for his circle. If that's the case, then who'd be your scuff queen/king. Someone we've already met? Or somebody who has yet to be introduced? Maybe I'm wrong, and Jaune is the scuff king. I'm curious to see what you'd do with this thought.

The VTuber: Circles Within Circles

Among the vast, VTubing community there tending to be many circles of, VTubers that tended to exclusively interact with one another, be this because of similar interests, or from hailing from the same academy, or in some occasions being a part of the same family. There was always a circles one could find someone being apart of.

Such as the quartet that was, CookieMonster, SushiandShibari, DraGunShow, and IHateMyDad2.0. While Cookie, and DraGun were half-sisters, the four of them all hailed from, Beacon Academy, both the agency, and fictional academy, and were once part of the same Huntress team back in the day.

This was just one of many examples of circles being formed, and made by the various, VTubers. However, there was always the outliers of this trend. Then again, he was always the outliner of any particular group.

But, what would one expect from the lone wolf of the VTubing community: ErrantyPaladain.

If the circles among the VTuber community were to be made into a Venn diagram, Errant would be smack dab right in the middle of all of them. Just like when he played, 'The World of Remnant: Hunter's, and Monsters.' A Huntsmen of no, Academy nor a single nation. The vagabond of Hunters' as he was sometimes referred to as.

ErrantPaladin would, as he often still does, would join any VTuber for the occasional collab if asked to, regardless of which VTuber, or agency asked him to. But, in the end just as always, he stood alone.

Some may see this as a weakness that. ErrantryPaladin possessed. But, many would see this as a benifit for one to gain his unique perspective that others often overlooked, or never saw.

The Genshin Impact update was one such example:

~~~

SushiandShibari: I don't understand why they couldn't just add more diverse characters to this latest update!

DraGunShow: What are you talking about; The latest update added some pretty interesting roaster of characters, what's wrong with the new characters they added?

SushiandShibari: They didn't add any diverse characters! Look at them, that's basically a tan! Why not add some black characters to the game? It should have more diversity in it!

DraGunShow: I wouldn't mind seeing some more diverse characters to the game. I mean, they all look pretty similar to one another.

SushiandShibari: Exactly! This is what many of the, English voice actors have been saying! There should be more diverse characters, then it just being a bunch of white people!

DraGunShow: Okay...? Look, Sushi, I'm not really sure about what should be done about this, and I don't really think I'm an expert on... any of this. Why don't we ask someone else, and get their opinion on this?

SushiandShibari: Fine. But, who are you going to ask?

DraGunShow: Let's see who's on...

DraGunShow: Hmmm...

DraGunShow: Ahh! Errant's online! Let's ask him!

SushiandShibari: Do you seriously want his opinion, or do you just want to talk to him?

DraGunShow: Don't you?

SushiandShibari: ...

SushiandShibari: Call him.

DraGunShow: I've already done it~!

...

...

...

ErrantryPaladin: Hello, DraGun. May I be of some sort of service?

DraGunShow: Hi, Errant! Is this a bad time?

ErrantryPaladin: No, I was just playing a few rounds of, Sins of a Solar Empire 2. But, I can pause it.

DraGunShow: Oh good! Sushi, and I have been having this debate, and well... I don't know much about it. So we were wondering if you could add your two cents to it.

ErrantyPaladin: Possibly. What is this debate about?

SushiandShibari: We're debating about how the latest update to. Genshin Impact isn't diverse enough, and that they should be more inclusive, and add more characters of more diverse back grounds. A lot of the, English voice actors are in agreement that, Genshin should add more diverse characters, and how the game should be more inclusive!

ErrantryPaladin: Ahh, that pointless argument.

SushiandShibari: P-Pointless?

DraGunShow: What do you mean by that?

ErrantryPaladin: What I mean is the, Genshin Impact is a, Chinese game made by a, Chinese company. They do not give a damn about inclusivity. And, the complaints people are making about that will only fall upon deaf, and uncaring ears.

SushiandShibari: What? What do you mean, surly they care what their player base thinks?

ErrantyPaladin: Not really, no. Listen, this isn't a western game company where a dozen people on, X can complain about something, and cause the game studio to change everything about it just because their encouraged to do to some higher ups being detached from reality, and being swayed by cheap coin.

ErrantryPaladin: This is a Chinese company, they are going to do things their way, and their way only.

SushiandShibari: But, they already have so many white characters, why can't...?!

ErrantryPaladin: Whoa whoa whoa! Did you say, 'white?' Sushi. they're, Chinese. Everyone in the game is based off of, Chinese characteristics. There is nothing 'white' about any of them.

DraGunShow: What are you talking about, a lot of their character designs look... white?

ErrantryPaladin: Pale would be the correct term you're looking for. Okay... Look, look up, 'Chinese movie stars,' and you'll get a wide array of skin tones, and facial features. Of which you will find that many of the, Genshin characters, both male, and female adopt. And, for the record, slim, pale skinned with angular jaws seem to be their standard of beauty. At least I believe that to be... seems evident.

DraGunShow: Whoa... there is a lot of skin tones here, Sushi.

SushiandShibari: Okay... I conceive the point to you... But, couldn't they still add more diverse characters to the game?

ErrantryPaladin: By 'diverse' you no doubt mean that white savior complex argument of adding black people to every, and any game. Of which they won't do, regardless of how much people whine at them to.

SushiandShibari: Why not?

ErrantryPaladin: Nor denying that one, eh? Okay, the reason why they will never add any 'diverse' characters is for one simple reason: The, Chinese are really, really, racist.

SushiandShibari: Eh?

DraGunShow: What?

SushiandShibari: They're racist, what do you mean by that?

ErrantryPaladin: I mean exactly what I said; The Chinese are really racist. Well, most people in, Asia are really racist actually. But, the, Chinese are no exception to this rule. They are racist towards, Americans, towards the, Europeans, towards the, Africans. They are particularly racist towards the, Japanese, that's a whole can of worms right there as to why. But, they are even racist to themselves!

ErrantryPaladin: So that's why I consider it a pointless argument. You're trying to force, Western ideals on a nation, that is actively fighting against them on a global scale. It doesn't matter what you do, nor say, they will not give a damn about any of it.

SushiandShibari: Oh... I see...

ErrantryPaladin: Now, I'm not saying for certain that I'm a hundred percent accurate. There are no doubt gapes in my memory, or I misinterpreted things. But, I am sure, that no matter how much anyone complains about inclusivity to the creators of, Genshin Impact, they will not give a damn. Honestly, I would advise the voice actors who are making these complaints to shut up; They are after all... replaceable.

ErrantryPaladin: Now, does that answer your question, or is there something else you'd like to ask?

DraGunShow: No.. I think that answer it... Sushi?

SushiandShibari: I... I need to do some research... Thanks Errant.

ErrantryPaladin: My pleasure! Now excuse me, I have some heathens to cleanse.

DraGunShow: ...

SushiandShibari: ...

DraGunShow: So...?

SushiandShibari: Shut up.

DraGunShow: Okay.

~~~

Sometimes people found his opinion, and thoughts to be rather controversial, and counter to most peoples beliefs, and often caused a mild controversy. But, ErrantryPaladin, stuck to his convictions, and paid them no mind.

He was asked to express his opinions and he did just so. If people got upset by them, then so be it.

Other times, people went to, ErrantryPaladin for simpler things. His opinions on games, sports and the likes. He was often asked by a fellow, Vtuber who hailed from the, Beacon VTuber Agency name, MochaFashionista for his advice on woman's fashion. Something many found to be quite odd that Vtubings fashionista would ask someone else, much less a guy for his opinions on woman's fashion.

That was until he gave his reviews, and opinions on woman's fashion with her, and everyone came to the same conclusion: 'This guy knows what he's talking about.'

When asked why, and how he knew so much about woman's fashion he simply replied: 'I have a lot of sisters.' And innocent, and simple answers that once again lead to speculation among his fans as to how many sisters did he really have, and if that was the sole reason he knew so much about woman's fashion.

But, being a fashion commentator was an occasional activity he almost exclusively did with, MochaFashionista. What he often did with other VTuber's was something he began to regret having to do. Less so with him being the only one capable of helping with other, and no one else was seemingly capable of fixing their problems themselves. And, more so how they managed to develop such problems.

What were those problems, ErrantryPaladin was so capable of helping others fix you ask? Simple really:

Tech support.

~~~

Fall4Me: Shitshithsitshitshit!

Panic coursed through, Fall4Me's voice as she looked at the bugged out screen before her. She was about to do a co-op game with several of her fellow streamers. But, her screen had begun to glitch out before she even started. She had to fix this before...

ErrantryPaladin: Hey, Ember, ready to play?

Fall4Me: Hey, Errant~! Yeah, I'm totally ready to play, just give me a moment!

ErrantryPaladin: ...

ErrantryPaladin: Haaa...

ErrantryPaladin: What is it this time?

Fall4Me: ...

Fall4Me: My screen is bugged out...

ErrantryPaladin: God dammit...

~~~

DraGunShow: Okay, I'm ready to play!

ErrantryPaladin: Are you sure, because it says you're not live?

DraGunShow: What? I'm totally online! It says so right here.

ErrantryPaladin: On which account does it say that?

DraGunShow: On my other account...

ErrantryPaladin: Other account? Wait, does that mean you bought two copies of the same game?

DraGunShow: Yes...?

ErrantryPaladin: Why are you saying that like it's a question?!

DraGunShow: I don't know?!

~~~

Another usual stream from, Fall$Me, one where she'd be joined by her precious, Wolf as they played another game together.

That's if her mic was on.

Fall4Me: ...

ErrantryPaladin: Ember?

Fall4Me: ...

ErrantryPaladin: Ember you're muted.

Errant had decided to change his stream to her to see what was up, and based upon how her model was moving, he could tell she was live, however.

He saw the panic look that filled, Fall4me's face as she struggled to turn her mic on, but based on how she seemingly developed this panic complexion.

ErrantryPaladin: Is your mike on?

She shook her head as she look at him in confusion.

ErrantryPaladin: Then turn it own.

She proceeded to do so, or at least, Errant assumed she was based upon her body movements. But, since nothing was heard from her end, and how she started to panic again, Errant could only shake his head in disappointment at her.

ErrantryPaladin: Did you at least plug your mic in?

He saw her model move to the side, and then appear stiff, no doubt a sign that she was going to check her mic. She soon came back, and and her model moved in front of the camera, her body adopting a bashful, and embarrassed posture.

ErrantryPaladin: It wasn't plugged in, was it?

Fall4Me: No...

ErrantryPaladin: How the hell did that happen?!

Fall4Me: I don't know!

~~~

The amount of times, Errant had to provide tech support to his fellow, VTubers had forced him to adopt a tech support persona, that eventually lead him to getting a new, VTuber model for people to understand what he was doing, and more importantly:

To shame those that needed his help.

~~~

Fall4Me: Errant?

ErrantryPaladin: Yes?

Fall4Me: Can help me?

ErrantryPaladin: Haaa... one moment.

ErrantryPaladin: What do you require of me, a humble servant of the, Machine-Spirit this time?

ErrantryPaladin's model became that of a, Warhammer 40000, Tech-Priest. He liked using this model because it helped him better understand, and focus on helping other, VTubers with their technical problems. And, generally make fun of those that needed his assistance. Again.

Fall4Me: Nooooo! Not, the Tech-Priest! I'm not having any problems with my computer! You don't need to put that mask on!

ErrantryPaladin: Your record prompts that this form should be the natural form taken upon this devotee of the Machine God when one addresses the, Scuff Queen.

Fall4Me: I'm not a scuff queen! This has nothing to deal with my computer!

ErrantryPaladin: Records prove otherwise. Now, what seems to be the problem; Did you forget to light the sacred incense?

Fall4Me: No! And, I'm not falling for that again!

ErrantryPaladin: Have you beseeched the, Machine-Spirit?

Fall4Me: Does calling it a hunk of junk count?

ErrantryPaladin: What! You dare insult the, Machine-Spirit in such a crewel manner! You have offended the, Machine-Spirit! Light the sacred incense at once to appease it!

Fall4Me: I'm not doing that again! It didn't work that time anyway! It has nothing to do with my computer!

ErrantryPaladin: Then what seems to be the problem that requires me?

Fall4Me: Is 0/bs a bad thing, or...?

ErrantryPaladin: ...

ErrantryPaladin: Omnissiah preserve me...

~~~

ErrantyPaladin's, VTuber career has been marked with a cloister of things. His interactions with his fellow, VTubers; The good, the bad, the weird, and the confusing. The mild controversies he had seen, and been a part of. The fights that broke out between, and withing the various agencies.

Errant had seen it all with in his own little eye of the storm upon a Venn diagram that was the, VTuber community. He occasionally ventured out to experience the thrills, and parrels of the storm, but at the end of the day, he would return to the center where he chose to stay. Called out only to join his fellow streamers for some fun.

And, copious amounts of tech support.

[bunny-lovez]

Adding some new characters to my furry girl roaster ^^

[misforgotten2]

Oh yeah?  It doesn’t cook an elephant … or plug into your ass.  Well, at least it doesn’t do both.

Sunset The Magazine of Western Living - December 1957

[shares-a-vest]

🍹 If You Like Pina Coladas 🍹 (Read on ao3)

wc: 1.5k | Rated: M for Mild Suggestive Language, Sexual Humour, Mention of a handjob | cw: Alcohol Consumption (Not excessive – Eddie makes two Pina Coladas)

Tags: Hot Tub, Steve Harrington’s House, Cocktails, Flirting, Established Relationship, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Body Worship (just a smidge as Eddie ogles his boyfriend)

Note: A while back I was looking through 1980s furniture advertisements and stumbled across several Jacuzzi ads, so I decided the Harringtons needed one hehe. And thank you to the STWG discord for always indulging my silly ideas, even if it takes me months to bring them to life 💜

🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹🍹

Eddie leans across the countertop of Family Video and kicks up his feet, grinning at his boyfriend despite the grumpy, pouty-boy frown creasing Steve’s brow.

“Come on, Stevie,” he insists, “What’s got your jeans in a such a twist?”

He rests his chin on his hands and tilts his head to the side, all innocent but nonetheless expectant. Steve has been sulking all week and Eddie is certain it has something to do with the fact that his folks have been home for an entire month now.

It has been tough on him too – what with their Private Boyfriend Time being cut down to whenever Wayne isn’t home. Which, considering his roaster right now, isn’t a whole lot of time for much of anything.

Plus, the novelty of boning in Steve’s car wore off about halfway through the first time. As it turns out, the back cab of the Beemer isn’t exactly all that spacious – nor is it conducive to avoiding a leg cramp so severe that Eddie almost got kicked straight in the head by his lover.

Eddie hums, thinking back to just what he was doing before the near-collision.

Steve stands upright to reach into the breast pocket of his tight navy-blue polo – one with four whole buttons the tease keeps undone in order to expose maximum chest hair. He produces a flimsy and tattered scrap of paper that looks to have been cut out of a magazine.

Steve sucks in a breath, unfurls the paper and hands it over.

“A hot tub?”

Eddie gawks at the advertisement in Steve’s hand and his boyfriend groans at his excitement.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, collapsing forward against the counter and Eddie’s heart flutters at their regained proximity, “My parents had it delivered a few days ago.”

Eddie delicately lays out the advertisement on the sliver of counter space between them and runs his finger over the picture, circling the rounded edges of the featured hot tub. He then moves to trace the hairline of the male model in the picture, a Fabio-looking dude who is having the time of his life sipping on a cocktail, accompanied by a pretty blonde toasting to his rugged masculinity.

“And this is bad, how?” he asks, looking up to find his boyfriend looking more than a little grumpy.

“Well, for one thing I have to make it down to the Post Office before closing to pick up some pump plug thing,” Steve grouses, all pouty with that bitchy lilt he gets (and that Eddie loves).

“Pump plug…” Eddie murmurs, transfixed as his greedy gaze makes its way down the long, tanned column of Steve’s neck…

To his chest, which is a lot more appealing than that of Jacuzzi Fabio Guy.

“Yeah, and guess who has to figure out how to get the stupid thing up and running by the time they get back?”

Eddie snaps to attention and smiles as sweet and innocent as he can muster.

“When do they get back?”

Steve looks at his watch, “They left about an hour ago and come back Monday night.”

Eddie leans over a little more – at least as much as he can before the counter begins to cut into his stomach.

“Stevie,” he coos, wiggling his brows, “My darling boyfriend.”

He abandons his fingering of the advertisement to reach for a lock of hair to twirl. Eddie giggles, dipping his chin as he bats his dark lashes.

“What?” Steve purses his lips before it all sinks in, “ – Wait. Oh, no!”

Call him selfish, but Eddie gives Steve no choice when it comes to the matter of getting the new Harrington Family Jacuzzi up and running. First, he mans Family Video so Steve can head to the Post Office for his pump plug-thing – an item he cannot bring himself to think about without chuckling a little, ‘tee-hee’. Then, when Steve returns with a box that contains said pump plug, Eddie helps his boyfriend read through the instructions before he heads on over to Melvad’s for some supplies.

It is going to be perfect.

Warm and bubbly.

Sensuous.

Private.

Eddie later finds himself buzzing out of his skin, rocking on his heels from his position right behind Steve as his boyfriend fires the bad boy up, pump plug plugged, and all.

“Great,” Eddie says, flapping the instruction manual in his hand, “Now we just have to wait for it to warm up.”

Steve huffs as he stands up and wipes at his sweaty brow – a sign of a manly job well done. He insists on washing up, so Eddie changes into his black boardshorts and sets about making them cocktails.

And yeah, he might have taken the advertisement out of the wastebasket in Steve’s bedroom while his boyfriend was showering in order to replicate Fabio Jacuzzi Guy’s alcoholic beverages. Sue him for wanting a romantic, catalogue-inspired evening – Pina Coladas included.

Eddie is all set up and ready to go as he lingers by the new outdoor accessory, waiting on bated breath for Steve to finally make his way out onto the back patio. The Hot tub is bubbling away like a hot spring, the inviting, steamy warmth every bit the picture painted in the advertisement Steve so thoroughly poo-poohed all afternoon.

But when Steve drops his towel, Eddie’s face drops.

“Why aren’t you wearing that tantalising little red speedo of yours?”

“Eddie, it’s freezing out here,” Steve argues, shivering as he looks out over the backyard.

Eddie grumbles and turns to the hot tub. He licks his lips, deciding what would be the most logical way of stepping up into the warm waters as he balances the two fruity cocktails in his hands.

“It’s what the bubbles are for, sweetheart,” he says, swinging his leg over the rounded boarder of the tub.

And in a second Steve is by his side, looping an arm around his waist to guide him. Eddie grins and pushes one of the cocktails into Steve’s hand.

“Oh, Pina Colada,” Steve beams.

They settle onto opposite sides of the hot tub – optimal positioning, if Eddie does say so himself! It allows him to get a good, greedy look at Steve, who is now preoccupied with trying to get his plush, pink lips around his straw without poking himself in the eye with the little yellow umbrella sticking out the top of his drink.

Eddie puffs out his chest and takes a sip of his own drink.

“Wait, is that my b-boombox?” Steve says mid-gulp, looking over Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie nods with enthusiasm.

“Thought it could be romantic,” he coos.

He sets his drink on a coaster near the boombox and carefully makes his way to his boyfriend. He wades through the warm water, stepping carefully – his body tingling as the tub’s jet streams rush hot water against him. It lights a fire in his belly and leaves him looking Steve up and down like he is something he could just eat right up.

Because the thing is, in this heat – with Steve’s perpetually warm body – the whole atmosphere is giving his beautiful skin a delicate sheen that is both arousing and oh-so-shiny. Like Steve is some precious thing made of gold. A God, even.

Eddie settles in close, his cheeks burning up as his arm touches Steve’s, sending a bolt of electricity through his body. Down his body.

“Steve,” he breathes, leaning into his partner’s neck.

“Eddie, this isn’t a porno,” Steve deadpans.

“You sure about that?” Eddie teases, reaching down to cup Steve through his boardshorts and rub.

It gives his boyfriend a jolt and Steve chokes out this stifled little whimper and all Eddie can do is chuckle into the bare skin of his shoulder. He bites him for good measure, earning a hiss. But Steve melts at the touch, sinking down a little in his seat.

“Eddie,” he whispers, screwing his eyes shut – damn his willpower, “You cannot jerk me off in my parent’s Jacuzzi.”

“Oh,” Eddie grins, pretending he is utterly scandalised by such a suggestion, “Who said it was going to be a mere handjob?”

Steve reaches down and wraps his meaty paw around Eddie’s wrist. He brings it up to the surface and interlaces their fingers.

“That so?”

Eddie narrows his eyes.

“Smooth operator.”

“Dork,” Steve leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek, “Wanna go upstairs?”

“After we finish our beverages.”

Eddie pushes himself off from their side of the hot tub and accidentally propels himself a little too hard to the other side. He reaches out a flailing limb to catch something in a desperate search for purchase.

But his hand knocks over his Pina Colada, spilling it directly into the hot tub. He grapples for the edge of the tub and momentarily dunks his entire goddamn head beneath the surface.

“O-ops,” he splutters when he comes up for air, spitting bubbly, hot water from his mouth.

He shakes drenched hair from his face, only to be met with Steve’s frown.