#pls forgive me for this mess

[justalittlechocolatemilkshake]

[bunnyreaper]

welder!ghost au

After taking so many welding lessons from Simon and developing a crush, you decide to make him a little something to show your appreciation.

(f!reader, simon is a fucking weirdo, jealousy)

As soon as you'd set your mind to the idea, it wouldn't leave you.

Just like everything to do with Simon, it's buried its way into your brain and taken up residence there, gnawing away until you decide to do something about it.

How you're going to do it is something different, though. There's no way in hell you could get away with making something secret in Simon's workshop, right under his nose like that. That man is far too observant to let something like that slip by, and the surprise is part of the fun.

You want to show him everything you've learned from him, every moment that you've hung off of his every word and listened to everything he has to say, every time you've watched him work and absorbed his expertise.

You settle on a bracelet, braided stainless steel, each step made by your loving hands. Hopefully, he'll wear it, and hopefully, you can guess his wrist size properly--fucking massive isn't exactly a precise measurement.

It should take too long, not with everything he's taught you, and you can be back to working in his shop again instead of the one across the city with the guys he doesn't like. You wouldn't go there under any other circumstances, were the situation not desperate. And when you get there, you understand Simon's judgement completely, not that you ever doubted it to begin with. The guys are creepy, and they stare, as well as make comments that are misogynistic, flirtatious, or an outrageous mix of both.

You're on high alert almost the entire time you work, but you try to push it out of your mind in favour of making everything perfect for Simon. Each weld, each sand, each polish, has to be perfect for him because anything else would be doing his tutelage a disservice. You've seen the disappointed looks he's given some members of the classes when his mask is flipped up, but you'd never been on the receiving end--always so eager to please and impress. That won't change now. You won't allow it.

You braid the steel wire with a drill and a vice, cut the pieces you need, sand the ends and get to work on welding them together. It's delicate work, and your mind only slightly drifts to some of your lessons where Simon had lurked behind you, the heat of his body so close to yours as you worked.

You finish the edges and bend the metal to the desired shape, trying to imagine Simon's wrists as you work--which is surprisingly easy considering how much you've stared at that sleeve of his.

The second you finish, you bolt out of that horrid workshop, off in search of a nice box and some wrapping to finish off the gift. You had a session with Simon the following Monday, and it's then you'll present it to him--if you're feeling brave enough.

Monday rolls round, and the workshop is empty when you arrive, save for Simon working away in the corner. You can tell by the way his posture stiffens that he knows someone has entered, even over the noise of his work, because he's always so perceptive.

The box is in your hand, and your palms are starting to sweat as you call out to him. "Hey Si."

He finishes up what he's doing and makes his way over, setting his welding mask down and revealing his handsome features. "Just us tonight." His comment seems fairly inconsequential, but honestly, you preferred it that way, getting to be the sole focus of his attention.

You nod in response, knowing you should just get the gift giving out of the way so you can both get to work, but your stomach twists with worry. What if he hates it? What if he never wears it?

"What's that?" He asks, eyes flickering down and clocking the box and the source of your troubles immediately.

You thrust it at him, almost as if the box burns to touch. "A gift, for you, it's silly really, but I just wanted to say thank you for everything..."

For the lessons, for his attention, for never treating you as lesser.

He rips off his gloves before he gets to work on the wrapping paper, and peels open the jewellery box to see the steel band inside.

"If you hate it, it's fine. It's just a little token of my appreciation." You rush out your words--damage control.

His dark eyes flicker between you and the bracelet, his expression unreadable before he pulls it from the box and places it around his tattooed wrist. The fit is perfect, but his reaction isn't as his expression sours. "Where did you make this?"

"Huh?" You startle, as that wasn't what you expected to come from his mouth at all.

His eyes narrow, and you swear he takes a step closer. "You didn't make this in my shop. Where did you make it?"

Oh fuck, you think, realising you have to admit to stepping foot in that other shop. You avert your gaze as a sheepish expression overtakes your features. "Uh, PK's shop, I wanted to surprise you so, I went there..."

His hand grips your chin, forcing you to look him right in those stormy eyes. "You wanna make something for me? You make it in my shop, yeah? My student, my shop."

The possessive words make you shiver, make you want to fall for your knees, and beg for forgiveness for the unknowing betrayal.

"Yeah, okay, of course... I mean I hated it there, I swear, they gave me the absolute creeps." You try to laugh away the swirling guilt and discomfort you feel. "Left as soon as I was done, and even gave them a 1 star review. But, I'll never go back, I promise."

Your eyes shine up at Simon's, waiting for him to relax.

"That's my girl." Finally, his touch releases and he steps away, grabbing his gloves. "Let me finish up what I'm working on real quick, yeah?"

"Of course." You nod quietly, watching as he walks away as your stomach starts to sink. At least he didn't take it off. "Do you... like it?"

He stops still, checking out where it sits on his wrist. His expression doesn't change, but you can hear the sincerity in his words. "Love it."

And a week or two later, when Simon asks you to come by the shop one night outside of your sessions, you're not entirely sure what to expect.

He explains he's trying something new, and needs your help, and doesn't explain anything further. But it's Simon, so of course you comply, of course you trust him.

It's only when he brings out a micro welder and a small length of gold chain that you realise what's happening. The intense look in his eyes before he gets to work leaves no room for argument, and you silently accept your fate as he permanently attaches that little bracelet to your wrist--a dainty little 'S' charm hanging from the middle.

[aceinthefreakinspace]

*hands you some aspec nygmobs memes because I haven't been able to get this out of my head all week*

Part Two | Three | Four

[slicznymartwy]

I’m not sure if your comfortable with it, but if it’s alright, can I request Billy Lenz and the reader (established relationship) having some sort of conversation on his past and the reader comforting him?

this one is rlly sad im sorry :(( this is mostly hc since i've only ever watched the original 1974 film, so idk if this lines up with the canon from the other movies. from what i know about it, i think it's similar. no mention of agnes in this warning: sa of a minor mention, please do not read if that bothers you. also, reader insert was abused/beaten by their mom. very sad take care of yourselves please

☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x gn!reader

Night fills your bedroom and coats itself on the floors and walls, except for where the yellow streetlamp spills in past your curtains. Sparing a glance to the alarm clock on your bedside table, you see the time is so late it could already be considered early. 

Still, you can’t think about sleep; not when Billy is laying beside you and the house is blissfully empty, two things so rare that it almost seems serendipitous. You’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you keep staring at the ceiling and let the warmth of his body radiate into yours.

“Billy,” you whisper into the quiet room. “Are you asleep?”

You can hear him grunt and squirm beside you, and you feel bad for waking him. It wasn’t often he got a full night’s rest on a bed, and you knew for a fact that there was no mattress in the attic. There were only so many chances to have Billy and the house all to yourself, though, and you don’t want to squander it.

“Billy,” you say again, nudging him with your foot.

He grunts again, but it sounds more cognisant than before. He reaches over himself to pat your arm, almost like he’s quieting down a noisy cat, and you can feel his hand trail down to your own. His palm covers the back of your hand, and he threads his fingers in between yours, curling them down together. 

It’s a gesture so sweet that you’re tempted to let him fall back asleep. There’s no helping your addiction to him, though, and you tighten your fingers on top of his.

“I’m not tired,” you say with a pout. “I wanna talk.”

This time, Billy groans, low and long. You think it might be out of annoyance, but you can feel him stretching out beside you, straightening his long legs underneath the covers. He huffs when he’s done, eyes blinking open.

You love his pretty eyes, an orangey amber that you were always getting lost in, no matter how unsettling they could be. It always felt like he was staring into you, like he could see the marrow in your bones.

You loved his intensity. It made you feel alive when the rest of the world was tired and grey.

“Hi,” you say, reaching over with you unoccupied hand to touch his jaw. “I didn’t ask before. How was your day?”

He’s quiet for a long time, and you wonder if he can fall asleep with his eyes open, but then he says, “Bad.” 

The word hangs in the air. Billy’s face gives up nothing, a blank page with no words of his own to say. You frown and pull your hand back from his face to rest on your own chest. The other stays in his hold, neither of you willing to let go.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, although it doesn’t surprise you when Billy shakes his head against your pillow.

“Okay.” You squeeze against his fingers again, pulling gently on his arm so that it rested more heavily on top of you. The bedroom air is quiet, but your mind continues to race. It’ll be good for him to get it off his chest, you tell yourself.

“Is it something old or something new?”

He thinks about your words for a while, but then you hear him mutter, “Old.”

“Bad memories?” you ask, looking back at him. He blinks at you, then nods.

“I get bad memories, too.” You lean against him slightly, and glance up at the ceiling. “From when you were a kid?”

This time, Billy shrugs. You know you shouldn’t push him, but your heart aches to see him hurt and to not have the rememdy.

You turn around and let go of him for only a moment. You search for his hand again, this time with the opposite one to press your hands together, palm to palm. Your fingers entwine so easily, so naturally, that it makes your heart ache.

Maybe he just needs to know he’s not alone in whatever bullshit he’s had to endure in his life. Maybe it will help to know that you have bad memories too.

“My mom used to hit me,” you admit quietly. You stare at the way your hands mesh together, with your nails polished and Billy’s own chewed up. “She used to take my stepdad’s belt and hit me with it. Used to just be the leather part, but then she would swing the buckle at me too. She broke a tooth, but it was just a baby one. My adult teeth grew in alright.”

You keep your voice casual as you speak, because facts are facts, and there’s no reason to get upset about something you can’t change anymore. Besides, you reminesce about your childhood so infrequently that it feels like it all happened to another person. 

You remember the beatings like you’re watching it happen to someone else – something else, because you don’t feel bad for them when they can’t sit at school because of the welts on their ass. You don’t bat an eye when their mom has to take them to the doctor to reset their broken nose.

“Bitch,” Billy spits out from beside you, and you have to laugh at the venom dripping in his voice.

“I don’t talk to her anymore,” you tell him, smiling sadly. You glance at him, but it’s hard to look at the mean look on his face. It probably isn’t for you, but your mind is traitorous and too sensitive.

Even worse, Billy could be mad on your behalf. No, you can’t think about that either, not when you’ve spent so long pretending that it didn’t really happen.

“Anyways. All that to say, I know what it’s like, having bad memories. You don’t have to tell me, just… I’m here for you,” you say, running your thumb along his hand where they’re still locked together.

“Want to,” he mutters, voice croaking unnaturally as he speaks in his own voice.

Quietly, you release his hand and instead wrap yourself around him, laying partially on top. He lets out a heavy sigh as you settle, with your arm coming up to rest by his head and your same-side leg resting over his hips. He watches the ceiling, and you watch his face from where you lay your ear to his chest

“Bad billy. Disgusting,” he mutters, and you pet his cheek with the back of your hand.

“I don’t think so.” You keep your voice careful and quiet, but he sighs and its agitated. Pent up memories start to overfill, and you can see it on his face.

“Mommy,” he starts, but his voice breaks and he coughs to clear his throat. “Mom. Fucking hate her. I hate her. Stupid fucking slut. She’s disgusting. Not me. Not Billy.”

You take your hand away from his face, watching how his expression continues to contort, mixing between anger and disgust and fear. It wrenches your heart in your chest.

“You’ve been so good, Billy. You’re not disgusting.”

“I hate her. I hate her,” he chants again. “Oh, Billy! Shut up!”

When he says his own name, it sounds like a feminine moan. You almost don’t understand, but the implication dawns on you only a moment later. It’s not difficult to piece it all together: his rage, the names he calls himself, the moan. You feel sick.

“Hey, we can stop,” you try gently, but Billy either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t want to stop.

“No one needs to know, Billy. Be a good boy.” You can’t look at his face anymore, the ugly way it scrunches up hurts you down to you core. Guilt claws at you from inside, and you wish you knew the right thing to say but you don’t. The truth, you decide, is enough for now.

“I hate her, too,” you tell him, and it sounds a little wet. You don’t let yourself cry, but your heart breaks for a younger Billy, afraid and confused. 

“That’s my mom,” he says. You don’t know what he’s trying to convey when he says that – if he wants you to pity her, or if he’s sharing his betrayal with you. He whines, a painfully soft noise that gets trapped in his throat.

Gently, carefully, you card your fingers through his hair where you can reach, and you kiss his shoulder.

“She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore,” you tell him, although you don’t know if it’s true. You do know that, as long as you’re by his side, there’s no way you’ll let that woman touch him again.

“I wish I could kill her,” he says through clenched teeth. His voice is thick, like he might be crying. You can’t bare to look. Billy’s grief melts into you like it’s thermodynamics, heat into cold, and you can only hope that you can take some of his and ease his mind.

“How would you do it?” you whisper, pressing your hand over his hammering chest.

“Cut… cut her head off. Smash it like a pumpkin. Oh, Billy! Good boy, Billy. Shut up!” His voice breaks when he shouts. He coughs, then gasps for air, his breath shaking as he fights against the tightenness in his throat. “I’ll turn her teeth into pumpkin seeds,” he snarls.

Without warning, you move yourself to lay completely on top of him, pressing against his body with your body weight. He groans, and you’re sure you must be squishing him, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, his arms come up around you, hooked under your arms and pressing you against him with his hands at your shoulders.

“I’ve got you,” you tell him, pressing your face against his neck. “You’re okay now. It’s just us in here. Just me and you.”

“I hate her,” he whimpers again. “I hate her. I hate her.”

You don’t say anything, because you don’t think there are any words that could possible take away his hurt without also being a complete lie. Underneath your body, you can feel Billy start to relax, grounded back to reality from the rotten memories playing in his head.

“I’m sorry today was a bad day. We can have a good one tomorrow,” you say. It’s an impossible thing to promise, but you mean it like one. You’ll make sure Billy has a good day, whether fate wants it or not.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll kill your mom too.”

“Thank you,” you say. You kiss his temple, and he leans into your lips.

© slicznymartwy 2023, please do not repost or copy.

a/n: reblogs and replies are really appreciated

[thvnderdraws]

MICHAEL AFTON ref bc i wanted to make one for him

[nobodymitskigabriel]

Everyone talks about how shitty it was that Michael and Adam were cut short in s15 and how they wanted to see them go on cute dates and move in together and like. Sure. But I wish they'd been expanded in a different way. Imagine Adam being around for Michael's "betrayal" of Sam and Dean. Or maybe the angels welcome Michael out of the Cage and presenting him with the throne and Michael just...not knowing what to do. Or maybe God commands Michael to kill Jack and Michael needs to seriously grapple with potentially making the same mistake twice. And maybe all this is happening while Gabriel or Raphael is alive which adds extra archangel family drama to the pot.

All these hypotheticals just to say that I would've loved to see Michael be a part of a genuine conflict in s15 especially with Adam. They had each other for 1000+ years but now things have changed, and in the grand scheme of the Universe, what is 1000 years anyway? Maybe this was God's plan all along. Okay, so maybe all humans aren't all literally maggots, but is the fucking archangel Michael going to throw away everything he lived for for the angels' Plan B Adam Milligan?

So imagine Michael actually going back to and listening to God or Heaven and Adam being so offended not on the Winchesters' behalf, but just on principle after everything God's done. Adam gives him an ultimatum and tells him he needs to wise up or get out of his body, and Michael goes...you know what? No. I'm an archangel and you're my vessel. Why would you get a say here? So maybe Michael takes Adam for a ride, stuffs him to the back of his consciousness and gets on with his business like the Cage never happened.

Eventually Michael does leave Adam, either by halfway coming to his senses or getting kicked out by force and obviously that experience would be very traumatic for Adam who would just...not know what to do with himself after being betrayed and violated by his only friend for 1000+ years.

But whatever, right? Michael is an archangel. His Father is back. He doesn't need Adam or a vessel. (Except he sososososososo fucking does.)

So imagine Adam tagging along with tfw for some mission that goes wrong. Everyone is surrounded. It's game over. But then whatever demons or angels or whatever are about to kill them get smote like it's nothing. The ground trembles. The windows break. Absolutely blinding white light spills in. Everyone has to shield their eyes and there's this ear-grating noise that only Adam seems able to be able understand. Everyone is writhing on the ground, clutching their ears and Adam is just standing there casually like he's having a depressing and slightly tedious conversation. It goes back and forth between the most ghastly noises anyone has ever heard and Adam saying something like, "I don't know if I can trust you anymore" and this goes on for some time. We never actually hear what Michael says, but it seems to have a major effect on Adam who eventually does decide to forgive him and let him back in.

I also like the idea of Michael taking his throne back with Adam?? Like I know we're not necessarily rooting for Heaven on this show but yesss king make John's secret third son your Heavenly consort 💞💞 I do like the domestic potential Midam has but it doesn't just have to be domestic you know???

[snzluv3r]

wav request from @sneezysubbyboi for chhinkni induced sneezes, i hope you enjoy <33

this cold is still wreaking havoc on my sinuses so i was hoping the chhinkni would clear some of the congestion up and it definitely helped but only very temporarily </3

[blushouyo]

tell me, o father, that this suffering is not without cause.

[birdietrait]

some winnie facts :)

she inherits her quietness from her dad

she's naturally skeptical when it comes to most things, namely the paranormal, though she is open minded and would change her mind if presented with solid evidence

when she's angry, she isolates herself. when she's pushed to her limit, she will lash out with words that cut deep. this is something she is not proud of

her parents had her when they were both 19, and they were very toxic for each other. they were never married, but they clung to the relationship (thinking it would be the best thing for their daughter) until she was 7 and her mom ended the relationship and moved out

she likes to think of herself as independent, but she does rely on her dad for a lot of things

her relationship with her dad is a bit strained. they don't communicate very well...he's not the type to bring anything up first, and she is not good with any sort of confrontation. they basically just coexist in their house

she also works for her dad in the convenience store he owns

she finds comfort in old movies and likes to sketch film stills

she's an incredibly curious person, even when the subject in question is seemingly inconsequential or doesn't relate to her. if something grabs her attention, it's hard to pull her away from it

she loves animals. she goes out of her way to save bugs instead of killing them when she finds them indoors, and she loves to just sit in the woods and watch (and sketch) the birds and squirrels

[lgcjo]

* ✦ ・ hello, new friends! please call me ira! i'm not super prepared for my opening night, but alas, i'm here to inform you of the arrival of my first muse here, jō kitayama! read his profile here, and there's more info below the cut. thank you for reading, can't wait to meet you, and let's write together soon!

jō kitayama was born in tokyo, japan on march 11, 2004 ✦ ballerina dreams from the time he could make memories ✦ graduated from nnt ballet school, went on indefinite hiatus due to risk of health immediately after earning his degree, turned toward the idol dream to scratch the performing itch in a "healthier" way ✦ sometimes feels as though he's wasting his talents, but is learning to be gentler on himself day-by-day ✦ if you're a dancer, especially a trained one, he'd really, really love to dance with you... like really, really

* ✦ ・

jō kitayama might seem stoic and reserved on the surface, but he promises that that's just his face ✦ just wait until you see his smile or hear his laugh ✦ he's a dreamer, but he balances himself with a sense of practicality where it matters, for example, he doesn't get so lost in his head that he'll forget to do his chores or honor his commitments ✦ despite possibly seeming a little spaced out from time to time, jō is someone who does what he says he's going to do. he's very forthright and determined, a dreamer who turns his dreams into his real life despite being an entertainer and artisan for many years, jō has a hard time taking criticism. his feelings get hurt and he's prone to sulking, or even swearing under his breath, but it's only because he's so hard on himself all the time ✦ there's probably no one more passionate about dance as he is ✦ he has a romantic side and can be pretty sensuous, but he tries not to let his heart get in the way of his work ethics ✦ his new love is writing lyrics and poetry, and he's even picked up on playing the piano, too ✦ he'd love to get to know you

* ✦ ・

fellow japanese trainees, please embrace him! he'd love to have a community of people, or at least one person, who reminds him of home and gives him that sense of comfort

he's obsessed with dancing, so if your muse is a dancer, he'll want to pick their brain and learn from them if he's allowed to. new dance partners are always welcome; gender doesn't matter either

during a large portion of his hiatus, he kinda lived life doing nothing, so he got into a lot of anime films ( he's kind of a snob and only likes the top-rated ones ) and video games ( ranging from the legend of zelda to street fighter ). maybe your muse likes these things too and it could lead to a connection?

he also got into k-pop during this time too, so any fans of in-verse groups that he can nerd out with would be cool! he's a fan of them all, and for the record, his biases in some of the groups are: ( v&a ) haru and aj, ( crystallis ) yura, ( fabula ) eunhye, ( nova ) miyu

he's an older brother to two little sisters ( one born in 2006, so could be a connection ), so if your muse is younger than he is, the chances of him doting on them affectionately is pretty high. he takes his stance as a senior to his juniors seriously, so he'll always aim to make a good impression. if your muse was born after 2004, this could be fun to explore too

on the flipside, he'll also take being the junior in the scenario in stride, always aiming to be respectful, just how his parents raised him up to be. though, he may lean on you a little too much sometimes. he's not used to being babied, but secretly wants to be. would someone like to volunteer? >.<

he's a hard worker and puts a lot of time and effort into the arts, but distractions are good for him, especially if they're gorgeous and make his heart flutter! he'd love flirtationships, friends-with-benefits, romance ( casual, serious, anything goes ), and everything in-between. he'll write poems and songs about your muse if he likes them, it'll be cute! ( noting that he identifies as queer, even if he isn't overly expressive about it )

if your muse is a songwriter/musician, jō would love to learn from them! these skills of his are still growing, so getting better at them would make him super happy if your muse has the time to collab

if none of these work, let's brainstorm!

[tetsuskei]

i feel awful for how long it takes me to do things, but i always like putting my best effort into things and not half ass. not to mention my undiagnosed adhd probably doesn’t help…

[snchkns]

tag nine people you want to get to know better!

i have been summoned (@meryachkins) so let's go let's go my first official post on here (i feel like a grandpa rn, how do you use this thing)

LAST SONG? - what's good by tyler, the creator

FAVORITE COLOR? - bright green and all the purples ‼️

CURRENTLY WATCHING? - star trek discovery and heartstopper, but i think the last time i watched either was at least a month ago 🧍‍♀️ i don't believe in consistency, as they say

LAST MOVIE? - rewatched i saw the tv glow for the third time because i'm insane and enjoy suffering.

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY? - if i don't get something sweet at least once a few days i would probably lose sanity so. the answer is obvious

RELATIONSHIP STATUS? - [THIS INFORMATION IS CLASSIFIED]

CURRENT OBSESSIONS? - some dc and marvel characters whose number keeps increasing (mostly the Villans and the Queers because who do you think i am) and also criminal case (the 6th game specifically atm, and this one is actually seasonal, it just comes back to me twice a year jsldjksjdkdj)

LAST THING YOU GOOGLED? - what temperature do you wash a knitwear top at because i was loading a washing machine earlier and became very confused ..... adult problems lmao

[holyabomination]

I wish we could've gotten some proper Little Sammy being a freak when younger. I just know that that guy would freak all of his classmates out with morbid facts he wasn't even aware most people knew nothing about.

[ello-i-am-oof]

Cat Adopt Costs Nitro

Dog Adopt Costs Nitro Basic

Adopt Carrd Here.

[lokielly]

just saw someone say that izzy getting shot wasn’t on camera (it was) and that his death had no reason to happen narratively (it did have a purpose).

izzy’s death scene existed as a way to tell ed it was okay to let go of blackbeard, and it was more powerful than anything izzy could have just told him. izzy used his last words to tell ed that it was okay to be himself and that he was loved. that has a massive impact.

“but that makes izzy just a plot device for ed!”

well yes. while this show does allow secondary characters to be their own characters (which it REALLY did with izzy this season, his arc was amazing), you have to keep in mind the protagonist is stede, and also ed as his love interest. they are the main focus of this show, and the characters around them exist to push their story forward.

of course that doesn’t mean they can’t have their own things going on, because they absolutely do. they’re their own people. but saying that reducing a character into “just a plot device” really isn’t the terrible thing people are making it out to be.

it’s fine to have loved izzy. it’s fine to be upset that your favorite character died. but throwing hate at david jenkin’s and turning against a show about a very unique, underrepresented queer love story just isn’t right.

more on the david jenkin’s thing here because this is the point where i lose the main plot of the post.

i’ve seen people just blatantly missing or misunderstanding information or even sensationalizing things and blaming it on david jenkins.

i saw someone say that izzy’s final words were him telling ed “sorry for making you abuse me.” that wasn’t it at all. it was “sorry for encouraging you to be someone you’re not. but you don’t have to be that way anymore.” that has a completely different tone.

even this person saying izzy wasn’t even shot on camera. he was. ricky turned around, fired a shot, and izzy took it. but he wasn’t going to dramatically fall to the floor because why would the guy that goes “i’m fine fuck off” whenever he’s not fine show that he’s not fine.

i saw someone say that he wasn’t given proper respect at his funeral and that stede bitchy remark was cruel and ungrateful. stede’s “bitchy” remark in question: “he was a good one. bit intense.” like first of all, that’s not mean at all, and honestly, if i were stede i wouldn’t have forgiven him for, ya know, teaming up with the british to kill me. but clearly stede has.

and everyone’s pinning this on david jenkins. and i know this because as soon as i finished the episode i went and checked his twitter mentions. and even if i hadn’t him turning replies off on his post was enough to show me that.

i even saw someone trying to DEFEND david jenkins by saying “guys he probably just didn’t know how big the izzy fandom would become when he wrote this.”

writers. don’t. have. to. write. around. fandoms.

[chibi-celesti]

Time for Your Tune Up (Part 6: Idia Shroud)

A/N: I apologize for not updating this story. I had trouble trying to pin down the next few since by this point everything was close to getting repetitive. 😅 

Plus, Idia is a character who, while I can relate in social awkwardness, I could not think of a perfect scenario for. I again apologize if his interaction with Yumei isn't the best.

Also, this is set a lil after Book 06.

~TFYTU~

“I-I can't do it. It's too much!”

“Idia-senpai. We haven't even started yet… ” Maybe going to the Ignihyde Dorm Leader wasn't a smart idea. He was one of the few people who seemed interested in Yumei’s background as a Reyvateil considering the knowledge of Ar Ciel having advanced tech would pique his curiosity. 

…but the Prefect didn't expect that the Wallflower Otaku would panic over something like giving a Life Extending Agent to a friend.

“That’s what makes it worse. Why would you throw me into an Expert Difficulty like this?! And with NO TUTORIAL!!!”

“I told you I was gonna show you when I got here, senpai.”

“THAT DOESN'T HELP!!!” He hid his face deeper into his hoodie(or as much space he could hide in.)

Yumei cringed at the volume of his voice. He did not expect for things to get this intense. ‘Maybe I should’ve asked someone else…’ He shook the thought away as soon as it appeared. ‘NO. Idia swore he would try to get to know more about me after everything that happened. And this was what he offered to help with.’ That last part still confuses the Reyvateil since he’s sure no one else knew this part all that well. ‘I’ll ask him later about that.’

“Look, you wanna help me or not, senpai? It’s fine if you don’t.”

The fiery haired boy peeked out from his hoodie to see Yumei looking at him with a patient smile. “It’s fine. I’ll show you, and hopefully whenever you have freetime in your internship you can try it for yourself.”

Idia avoided looking the Prefect in the eyes.“...You’re too kind to a shut-in like me.” He moved away from his fetal position and moved a little closer. “It’s your arm, right?”

“Yup. Just move the sleeve, or not, and place the crystal there.” He moved his left arm to the Ignihyde Housewarden for easy access. He then gave him an Agent from his bag.

“...” Mind concentrated and secretly sweating Idia placed the Life Extending Agent on the other boy’s arm. Watching as it slowly merges into him and noting the small finches during the process.

“...Does it hurt often?”

“No… not like my first time.”

“You really should word that better?”

“Word what?”

“N-Nothing,” he tried changing the subject. “Anyway, mission complete.” He chimed a jingle from one of the many games he played.

Later that evening:

Ortho came by to check on his brother once Yumei had left for the evening. “So~ How did it go, Nii-chan?”

“That was the most excruciating moment of my life. So worth the wait. I even got a Level Up out of it!”

“That’s great! I still find it astonishing Lifeforms like Yumei exist out there that utilize Artificially made Crystal for survival.”

“Indeed. Whoever thought of the concept is either the Mad Scientist type, or the Playing God type. And we know how well those turn out.” He hated recalling that incident again, shoving it back into the depths of his mind. “I’m gonna look into converting some magestones into those Agents for Yumei Archambeau.”

“Nii-chan?”

“He’s running low. Better to have enough to make it to forty, right?”

“Right!”