#sorry this is taking so long there's just a lot of posts to move (200 blog pages worth!) and i have so much going on at all times

[pochapal]

for my most neglected audience i fed more posts into the pokespe sideblog's queue

[l0stfoster]

I desperately want to know more about the cursed tulsa au! Is it ok to ask you for more headcanons about it/details from the au?

Anon you have probably asked me the question that’ll give you the longest post I’ll ever have on my account because I was born to yap about this. Nothing super detailed or written out, but a lot of little things about the characters and the world around them! Take some of my written 'headcanons' with a grain of salt!! Although I'm kinda one of the writers, I don't want to call stuff canon without input from the others.

You can VERY clearly see who we talk about the most. Any additional fun facts or info will either be mentioned in reblogs or put in a new post and linked here!! EDIT: Added a read more bc it's so long I'm so sorry

TULSA

200 years ago, the area of Tulsa was cursed by a witch. This witch stated that the poorest born will be shown just as the rest of society views them. Freaks.

A majority of, if not all, of the greasers are cursed. They have to be born in Tulsa for this effect to take place. There are very few socs who are also cursed, but it's a very spl

Those born in Tulsa can leave, but their powers are weakened (or they lose them in full until they return)- this may not be an issue for the human passing ones who just want to live life normally, but folks like Fae and Harpies will likely be hunted down by the government, as their kind isn't seen around. (At least, not to the public eye.)

(Already stated this but I'll say it again) Follows the canon plot excluding Johnny and Dally’s deaths. Johnny ‘dies’ (heart stopped, declared clinically dead— gets resuscitated though) and Dally still snaps and loses it, bolts the second after he ‘died’. Dude gets shot (non-fatally on contact) by the cops, but the gang gets him to the hospital and he lives thank god.

Animalistic traits are pretty common amongst the cursed. Some have horns, others have tails, the harpies have wings, fae have pointed ears and tails, and many of them have sharp teeth.

DARRY

Fae, his power is Emotional Augmentation/Negation & Mind Manipulation. - He can calm people down, elevate their emotions, or clamp down on people's power if they're getting too out of hand. This makes it really hard for him to identify his own emotions. He also has a bad habit of using his power when he's upset, which means it pretty much rubs off on others. He's usually pretty good at keeping it down, but he struggles. - His manipulation is pretty much a workaround for the fact that the fae cannot lie. It pretty much makes him VERY convincing, mind manipulation does that. He'll tell someone something and they'll believe it. Master Gaslighter. That comes with its own issues-- he can't tell if the relationships he's made are authentic due to his manipulation, meaning they might just be telling him what he wants to hear. It bugs him really bad, and he worries that a lot of his friendships aren't as solid as they seem to be.

He had a very messy situationship and falling out with Paul. One-sided crush on Darry's end for a while throughout their friendship (Paul was in HEAVY denial of his own feelings, while Darry knew damn well he loved Paul.) Paul, being the soc he is, didn't like that Darry was "one of those freaks". That was sort of where their friendship shattered, and everything that happened after Bob's death made it beyond repairable.

REALLY hates being fae, and has done a lot of shit to try and prevent himself from being easily identifiable as something not human. He tried cutting his ears off ((due to paul's comment calling them freaks) got caught, and one ear is fucked up now), continuously tried to get his tail injured enough to be amputated (that also didn't work, but now he's got a disabled tail that hurts to move too much), and even gave filing his teeth down a go (also didn't work- made them sharper if anything.)

He doesn't wag his tail, and the gang can’t tell if it’s because he’s never happy or because the range of motion is limited due to his injury. If you’re lucky the tip of it will flick around but he also does that when angry so you can’t tell what the fuck dude is actually feeling

Fucked up his vocal cords growling all the time as a kid when trying to be intimidating, so now his growl sounds like a broken wolf's growl; he can't do it for too long or it fucks up his voice and he'll sound like a chain smoker. (Speaking of, I headcanon he used to/does smoke, just hid it well from Pony n Soda)

Purrs very rarely but when he does, he purrs like a motherfucker. Whole ass jet engine. It is LOUD and you will vibrate if he's hugging you.

His boss is the only one unaffected by his power. "You should give me a raise" 'Not gonna happen, Darrel' "FUC-"

Stole Darrel Sr's name. It's why he's junior /silly

Literally just anxiety personified, tbh. He cannot catch a break and hates himself so bad. He's equally as feral as his brothers but is just VERY good at keeping it lowkey.

All the fae are nature-linked in some way. Darry really likes the sun and warm weather. He's got Disney princess energy too, and animals adore him. (hence Two being drawn to him as a perch /silly) He gets followed home by neighborhood strays and keeps having to tell Soda that no, they can't keep them.

Not even specifically an AU headcanon but when he cracks any bones they pop like forty gazillion times. Cracks his back and it's just a solid 5 seconds of snapping.

Speaking of, he's one of the only people who can hold Two's weight because his wings are heavy. Dude's strong as fuck here for obvious reasons, he's also a little too fast compared to a human, so.

Bites his nails to high heavens. He stopped doing it for a while trying to break the habit but accidentally clawed up someone in the gang wrestling and hasn't let them get long since.

Likes to preen Two's wings, it's the repetitive nature that calms him down. If he's stressed and Two notices then he offers.

Like all the other power havers, he gets super fucking weak and a bunch of other drawbacks when overusing his power. Still developing said drawbacks but I personally imagine he either just gets overly emotional or goes completely robotic and stoic.

Jumped Paul with Dally once bc they were trying to get back all the feathers stolen from Two-Bit. Dally didn't even finish asking who was first before he answered a very flat "Paul."

He's very friendly with Ms. Mathews. She helps them a lot throughout the years and he deeply respects her-- he also finds it very funny to see all the photo album bullshit she's got for her kids. Laughs his ass off at the stupid baby photos of Two n his sister.

HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE ON HIS BIRTHDAY. This will be further explained in Johnny's little section but long story short, they were supposed to get into a car accident before the train tracks and Darry would've died. He's got survivor's guilt, to an extent, as his parents wouldn't have died in the crash. Only him.

Had heightened Pony's anger during their confrontation. The guilt still eats him alive.

Unlike the other greasers who's powers weaken while they're sick, Darry's power gets very unstable due to how he's commonly repressing them. The gang knows he’s sick no matter how hard he tries to hide it physically because they’ll be around him and suddenly they’re weirdly emotional, or he’ll say something and they’ll believe him even if they know better.

In alliance with my headcanon for the normal story, I personally imagine he got jumped after his friendship with Paul ended before their parents died (since that friendship breaking apart kinda ruined his alignment with any socs)

Generally just a normal hc but he's got Autism, BPD, PTSD, and a few other things like anxiety, major depressive disorder, and sensory/eating issues. Very financially insecure too.

Used to bite as a kid. That's it. Send tweet.

SODA

Fae, his power is pretty much just a Siren Song. - He can get people to do what he wants with his voice, it's as simple as that. He used it to get Sandy to confess to the fact that the baby wasn't his, uses it to get Darry or Steve to take breaks if they're working a little too hard, etc.

Used his power to get extra cake after dinner or to get teachers to lighten up on him or his friends when they got in trouble. It works very similarly to Darry's manipulation, only Soda's is physical and makes them very compelled to follow what he says. In certain circumstances, people can tell if he's caused them to do/say something. That doesn't stop him, though!

When their parents died, everyone's powers went haywire. Soda had to either scream himself mute or force himself to be quiet so he wouldn't accidentally make anyone do something. He didn't want it to be fixed.

If he overuses his magic then he can't talk for a good few days without it hurting, voice gets very raspy.

Thinks he's a bad person due to the nature of his power. I personally like to think the only time he doesn't mind using them is when it's for the benefit of his friends. He's had to coax Two down from the roof after his jumping because watching all the harpies fly just makes him feel worse. He's stopped Steve from overusing his telekinesis after too many close calls with dropping a car.

Absolutely LOVES his ears and tail. Has a ton of piercings and tries to accessorize them a lot. The polar opposite of Darry in that regard. Likes his sharp teeth too.

His claws are probably the second sharpest, as they get sharper with age IMO.

He's probably the most expressive of the fae; constantly doing stuff since he can't sit still for the life of him. Tail's either swaying, tapping, wagging, or doing something.

Has the growl of a leopard. it is terrifying, when he growled at the socs during the rumble they almost pissed themselves. It scares the shit out of Two-Bit LMAOAO.

Soda has arguably the most average purr out of his brothers, it's basic, simple like a cat's is. He purrs super hard and at pretty much any physical affection sent his way.

When asked for his name by Mr and Mrs. Curtis, he pointed at a Pepsi bottle. Eventually, he swapped it for Soda.

He was jumped by the socs once, and they gagged/muzzled him so he couldn't use his power against them to defend himself. The gang was fucking destroyed when he came home with it, they knew they weren't perceived as equal, but that's beyond cruel.

Also slightly nature-linked. I like to think bees flock to him <3 He's also very good with botany, pretty tied with Pony.

He makes little healing pastes/oils for Darry using Pony's plants when he massages his back.

Soda learned many of his extending-the-truth-to-avoid-lying tricks from Darry, so he's very good at it. Darry is one of the only people who doesn't fall for Soda's shit. Steve doesn't either, just because he feels too bad lying to his best friend.

Soda pretty much gets zoomies. He'll be practically bouncing off the walls and going batshit bonkers. It's insane. Sometimes he's on all fours too, no one knows how he can do it so well.

Arguably the most fae-linked of the brothers; a lot of the little things that don't affect his brothers get to him. All three of them are properly burned by iron, though.

Doesn't like being thanked, as it not only implies being owed something, but he also just feels that he shouldn't be thanked for being kind/having basic empathy.

He absolutely hates salt. Too white for it /j (It's another fae thing, Soda's just most impacted by it)

He's weirdly flexible and moves in super uncanny ways sometimes. No one's sure if it's a fae thing or if he's just.. built like that.

Soda's a smooth talker when using his magic but cannot for the life of him start a conversation without it.

When he found out that Steve's dad was abusive, he nonstop asked for the fucker's full name for DAYS because he was so upset that someone was hurting his best friend.

Stevepop is canon in the writer's eyes, but if you want to you can absolutely read their dynamic as platonic (won't stop us from drawing ship art of them so whoops). I try my best to keep most of the dynamics/relationships open for interpretation (On that note, no shipping the mfs who are family coded I'll actually maim you)

When he snores it rumbles off with a purr. Also sleeps halfway draped over Pony like a bigass weighted blanket.

Yet another normal headcanon thing but he's got ADHD, Dyslexia, PSTD, and DPD. Yeah all of them are a little fucked up.

He collects rocks and crystals. It's a stash he can't bring around Two-Bit because it WILL be stolen.

PONY

Fae, his power is Nature Manipulation - It's honestly just what it sounds like. He can create plants, manipulate them, etc. He's very commonly using them, and they're heavily emotion-tied. Cacti and Venus fly traps when angry, wilted plants and dead bushes when sad, etc etc. The plants he grows most are vines, as they're super useful for him. He can use them offensively or defensively as needed. They have a huge tree in their backyard that he grew.

He's benefited positively from bright sunlight and water. He's incapable of drowning, so when Bob tried to drown him in the fountain he was kinda just,, chillin'. (Unfortunately for these fuckers, Johnny did NOT know that.)

Alternatively, he gets super weak and sluggish during the winter and cold seasons. It's misery for him, he thrives on sunlight and warmth. He's got these greenish-grey eyes when it's the summer/spring and they get super dull during the colder months. Groundhog Day is for losers, the gang knows when spring's coming once Pony starts perking back up.

Plants grow in his hair, mostly little sprouts and flowers like that. Magical flower crowns!! He makes them for Johnny every now and then.

Gets followed by bees and bugs. He both enjoys and despises it because what the fuck dude why are HORNETS chasing him.

Liked to grow flowers to give their mom as a kid, he was a little gift giver to her.

On that note, a motherfucking GOBLIN as a child. Literally, chaos incarnate, absolutely horrible to try and raise because he was so fucking wild.

Does not have spring allergies, lucky fucker.

When their parents died, the house was wrapped in vines for days. Sometimes they still start to overtake and infest due to how many there had been, but Darry usually trims them down went he notices (or when he's got the free time, busy ass)

Has the fattest beef with Steve still. Will trip the guy with his vines and he bites.

He's got a squeaky purr and a squeaky growl due to being young. He growls like a snow leopard cub.

Responds really well to physical affection just like Soda, doesn't always purr to it but does really enjoy it. Avidly avoids it from Two bc the stupid bird will try to preen him and he thinks it's goofy /silly

QPR with Johnny. Pony represents life and Johnny represents death. They hold hands, are the besties ever, and are extremely codependent. Do not romanticize their relationship I'll eat your knees.

Pony knows a lot about flower meaning, as he should. He's also very good with botany too.

Instead of Tim stepping on him in the rumble, he ate shit and got smacked really hard by harpy wings. Two and Tim still aren't too sure which one of them did it.

Very little thing but he has a tooth gap.

Pony tried doing a Darry n attempted to cut his ears to look more human while at the church. It didn't work, so now he's got two little rips that look similar to if you had a piercing torn out. He's generally got mixed feelings about his features.

Tries to keep his emotions on the down low for the sake of looking like a tuff adult, but his tail is constantly giving him away.

Pony made them a fairy around the house with his plants, and it serves as a little thing that lets any of the Curtis' know if someone enters the hours whether they're at home or not. If Pony doesn't want someone at the house while they're away then his vines will yoink them out.

Choosing his name was just him saying a random word in a very ominous voice. Darry added the 'boy' to the end of it.

He makes flower crowns for the hell of it, just likes having his hands moving. Either the gang gets them or they get tossed in a misc pile.

He is SO fucking bad at trying to extend the truth, absolutely miserable at it. He cannot gaslight at all.

Due to his power being weak at Windrixville, he had tried and failed to save Johnny with his vines. Instead, they were pulling him back in a subconscious effort to save himself; plants don't go well with flame, after all.

Had to quit smoking post-Windrixville because the smell bothered him really hard. His voice was kinda fucked up after too due to the smoke inhalation as well.

He's got little burn scars on his hands from grabbing the iron gates at the cemetery where their parents are buried too many times. Darry thinks he's a moron for it.

Clings to Ace like a motherfucker during the winter because she's naturally VERY warm.

Darry has to hold this bitch down to cut his nails when they get too sharp because he'll scratch a bitch while wrestling and play dirty.

Mental stuff again; Autism, PTSD, and Sensory Issues. Also kind of an addict.

He hasn't reached the full potential of his powers because he's still going through puberty.

Poy thrives off sugar, being plant-based and all.

STEVE

Human, but his power is Telekinesis. - It's very simple to explain. He's capable of lifting this with his mind and little physical action. There technically isn't a weight limit, but if he lifts something too heavy for too long it'll drop and he'll be REALLL fucked up, it's exhausting to use too much. Alas, that doesn't really stop him. If he gets pissed off things start floating around him.

REALLY likes to throw cars. It's just showing off honestly. He likes doing little things like that for the hell of it.

His dad makes him float beers to him and he'll very bitterly do it. One time he did it a little too fast 'on accident' and held back smiling as his dad bitched about getting covered in beer.

If substitute teachers are unaccommodating assholes he hucks desks at them. Detention is very worth it.

His telekinesis makes him seem physically stronger than he actually is. When it came to Two-Bit perching on the group, the people who could do it were Dally, Darry, and Steve-- until they found out that Steve was just using his telekinesis to hold him up. He dared to do it once without and long story short they ended up on the floor.

Steve isn't super affected by Soda's magic, but he does stuff for him just 'cause Soda's his best friend.

He uses his telekinesis to fly around with Two sometimes. That sort of stops after Two's wing ends up fucked. Every now and then, though, he'd use his power to give Two-Bit the feeling of flying again. They both go home bummed, Two because he’s no longer ‘flying’ and Steve because he hates knowing he can’t actually help

He did most of the work making a prosthetic for Two, and Soda helped a hell of a ton too.

He can't lie to save his life, just 'cause. He also can't whistle.

Arguably even more autistic for cars like this because of how easy working on them becomes with telekinesis. Floats them up himself to work under them.

Speaking of that, he'll float Soda up to the ceiling if he pesters him too much while he's working on a car. Needs to be absolutely locked in and Soda interrupts that.

He may be human passing but he doesn't... look right. His limbs and fingers are too long for a person.

Was STRUGGLING after the rumble. Had to deal with the pain of bones being too stretched plus broken ribs and fucked up knuckles.

He's got a complex that he's only good for his powers. It's a big sense of insecurity for him. It doesn't help that his powers tie to his mood sometimes too. He's had too many close calls dropping a car he's underneath and almost crushing himself because something gets to him. "You good, Steve?" (literally shaking) "Yeah I'm great"

Soda has to use his magic to force him to take a break, cause Steve doesn't want to stop because he thinks they're all he's got that makes him good at what he does.

His dad was born poor and in Tulsa. Steve isn't too sure what his curse is, but he doesn't want to find out.

He's got a crush on Soda that he, for a while, keeps mistaking for a heavy amount of admiration. You don't want to be him, Steve, you want to be WITH him.

He's got fragile bones like the harpies, the only difference is that his isn't biological and is due to his telekinesis stretching his bones out.

Yeah also mentally ill. Autism, PTSD, and CDD.

Idly floats himself for the hell of it sometimes. If Soda calls him short he'll bitterly float up to match his height or be taller.

TWO-BIT

Crow Harpy. No power besides that I think

He's got all the mannerisms of a crow and of birds in general. He likes to give his family and the gang shinies; flies by and drops bottlecaps or random little trinkets and dips. Sometimes physically throws them at people.

He dives at people in the street sometimes if they have something shiny. He’ll also dive-bomb friends and just pick them up like a claw machine. Dally’s the most common victim of this.

He's very intertwined with the bird instincts too. Nests, preens, chirps, whistles, etc. Very fucking loud and will not shut up. Clicks when he's all angry and shit.

Two’s mom is a harpy and his dad is human. Neither of them took after him, and he wasn’t happy about that. Two-Bit constantly had his needs and habits as a harpy repressed by his father; this included having his feathers clipped and not being allowed to preen or nest. His mom wasn’t able to do anything about it for a while, as she was too busy working to keep a roof over their heads.

He knows she is doing her best, and he doesn't blame her for not being able to protect him from that. Two's a huge mama's boy. he used to hide in her wings when he was little.

He taught his sister to fly and had taught himself by jumping off the roof. It’s why he’s got his tooth gap.

His mom has a photo album of him and his sister as they grew, including their feathers as they molted. "Baby's first molt!" and he looks like a blended-up cotton ball. Darry loves these photo albums.

Dally calls him Songbird and Freckles. Two calls him Dimples

He likes to bleach the tips of his feathers and dyes them with his sister, since her feathers are still light enough to dye without bleach.

He preens with the gang and will also try to preen the gang. It’s a bonding activity but bc they don’t have feathers it’s usually just him fucking around with their hair. It usually ends with them wrestling a pissy bird that by god NEEDS to get that knot out of your hair or he will tweak. Pony hates it the most, Darry and Soda are the only ones who don't resist.

If Darry whistles around him he'll shoot over and perch on the guy.

Even bigger kleptomaniac in this. Always has something, Dally's been given at least six switchblades over a week.

He can mimic voices and sounds really well. Uses Johnny's voice to get Pony's attention once. "Oh so you'd get up the second Johnny calls BUT WHEN I DO YOU IGNORE M-"

Horrible flier when drunk, it's hilarious to watch.

If you throw a piece of cloth thick enough to block out light over his head, he falls asleep.

Cannot for the life of him get through doors on the west side because they aren't friendly for wings.

His heart beats like 200+ times per minute. Everyone thinks he's having a heart attack or something when they first hear it.

Alternatively, he thought Dally was dying when he first heard how slow his heartbeat was.

He goes into torpor during really cold winter days or if he's super fucking exhausted. Went into torpor right after his jumping and Dally was convinced that he was dying.

Two gets very territorial and defensive of the gang because they're "his flock". Gives people death stares if they're getting too close. He looms threateningly over the shoulders of his friends if he doesn't like the person they're talking to. It usually scares them off.

He likes to take the gang and his family for flights. Scoops em up and just goes, most of them enjoy it, the ones with a fear of heights? Not so much.

If the younger members of the gang get sick he WILL shove them in a nest and pretty much hover over the person. He gets mama-bird traits from his mom.

Alternatively, even if Darry gets sick Two will hover over that motherfucker. He will wrap that man in a blanket and not let him leave. Just swaddles all the fuckers.

He's got good timing with dive-bombing people. Darry fell off a roof once and BAM suddenly he's in the arms of a very energetic harpy.

Was a really small kid and just shot up overnight. One day he was up to Dally's chest and the next he was at his nose. Dally hated it.

He's docile by nature but when he gets violent it's HELL. He's got sharp claws and talons along with sharp teeth, my guy can do some damage.

Two hates cats and has absolute beef with them. He and the rest of the harpies are scared shitless by Soda's growl too, if Soda growls he whips his head around 180 and looks around frantic. Soda both feels bad but laughs his ass off.

Two (and the other harpies) can't see glass. He's walked into the glass at the DX and slams his head against car windows trying to look outside. He's absolutely mesmerized by glass cups because why is the water FLOATING?

He has to sit in the bed of Darry's truck because his wings don't fit.

The gang went to a mirror maze once and Two got stuck in it for 2 hours. Came out with a busted nose all pouty because those mfs left him in there how dare they.

The Curtis boys can mimic bird sounds really well, they whistle at Two-Bit and his head shoots up at attention.

He's afraid of ceiling fans.

Harpies generally don't like eating bird meat due to etiquette and cultural stuff, but Two's dad would force him to eat chicken as a kid.

He adores seafood and goes fucking bonkers for it.

He got struck by lighting once. Walked into the Curtis' house singed and just went "So I might've made a mistake." Somehow he wasn't too hurt.

He tries to puff up to look intimidating but people just laugh because it's fucking cute. If he wants to look scary all he has to do is smile, yet he doesn't.

He emotes a lot with his ear feathers, they're constantly moving.

Like most birds and other harpies, his bones are hollow. They're arguably made of stronger bone material but the insides are hollow so you can snap 'em with ease if you put enough force behind it.

His neck is like a chicken's, if you move his body his head will stay in one spot if he wants it to.

He liked to just sit and linger on Dally's shoulders when they were kids. Dally didn't mind.

His feathers travel up to the back of his neck and hair; the ones up top closer to his hair are a bit curlier.

The gang can play one-sided fetch with him if they want to. Toss a shiny and he dives after it; he just won't bring it back.

He's got a whole drawer that's just full of the shit he collects. Bones, bottle caps, coins, broken jewelry, glass, etc.

He gave everyone in the gang one of his feathers. All of them wear it on their person.

There's a rumor going around in soc society about Mothman. It's just Two-Bit in really bad lighting. He got moth man status because a soc was closing a shop one night and turned and just saw these BIG ol glowing eyes staring through the window in the darkness of the evening.

He goes after rodents and small bugs. His mom used to have to wrestle mice out of his mouth and he'd cry after.

His baby photos are 90% blurs and heaps of feathers because he ALWAYS had zoomies. The only photos he's peaceful in are the ones where he's snoozing.

If they were invented in their time, Darry would put claw caps on Two if he's resisting having his talons cut. They'll watch him try his damn hardest to just tolerate them before eventually relenting like "oKAY FINE I'LL CUT THEM."

In terms of a specific species, he's a Fish Crow.

TWO-BIT CONT.

His jumping went REAL fucking bad in this. Bev took a lighter to his wing and put her cigarette out between where they met on his back (alongside still burning his face). They didn’t go for both wings, because something was much more cruel about taking one rather than both.

That shit fucked him up for so long, not only was he unable to fly, but there was all that physical and psychological pain that came with having his freedom torn from him. He was made for the skies and now he’s forced to wander the ground with the same people who hurt him.

He self-isolated up until the rumble because he couldn’t stomach the idea of the group seeing how ‘gross’ his wing looked. His mom cried her eyes out when he came home after being jumped, even though he tried hiding the damage from her.

She tried to preen him to make him more comfortable but they couldn't get more than halfway through before he broke down sobbing. “Why couldn’t I have just been normal like dad” when his mom’s preening him bc he doesn’t want to keep feeling the pain in his wings. For a few days after he hesitated even letting her near just because the pain scared him.

HATED Marcia for a good bit after his jumping. She didn't partake in it, sure, but she watched and did nothing. It took months before he could even stomach looking at her.

When his wings recovered, he used to climb on the roof and watch the other harpies fly. He'd feel the breeze through his feathers and against his face and try to convince himself that just maybe, he was up there with them. Soda has to coax him back down with his power because he is only making himself feel worse. Two was bitter at the other harpies for a very long time.

Can't handle the smell of smoke from cigarettes, though. Fire itself in some cases (mostly Ace's fire) is fine, it's cigarettes that bother him.

School was hell on earth for a good while because tight spaces and sensitive wings don't go well. He usually ended up late to classes bc he had to wait for the halls to clear to leave. He would've dropped out over it if he wasn't afraid of upsetting his mom.

His balance was fucked up for a good while due to the difference in weight.

Steve and the rest of the gang made him a prosthetic for his wing. He cried, and it fit like a glove.

Despite getting that freedom back, though, he kind of hates it. He has to relearn to fly, and it's frustrating it causes a lot of resentment because he used to be able to fly perfectly and now he struggles. He hates that he needs to rely on this prosthetic to be free.

Two-Bit and Johnny bond over having had a part of their freedom taken and now needing aid to regain it.

There's no canon ship for Two in this but the writers fuck with Dar-bit and Mar-bit hard lmao. I'll probably be doing a lot of Dar-bit stuff for them.

AuDHD and PTSD, send tweet. Maybe ODD but I'm still thinking about that one. Major separation anxiety.

JOHNNY

Human, he's what we've been calling Death Tied - He's got a sixth sense where he can tell if, when, and how a person will die. If a person's death is coming up, he'll get flashes of the event; what killed them, their corpse, etc. It freaks him out sometimes, depending on who it is. I like to imagine he gets ‘death chills’; which is a similar thing to impending doom, only he feels it for others.

His curse was NOT biological. As a kid his parents almost killed him; Death saw this, decided it was fucked up, and decided to take in this small child as its own.

Johnny's teeth are just a little too white and his eyes a little too black sometimes. He’s got something akin to vitiligo after he received death’s blessing, and it outlines and mirrors the shape of his skeleton.

Butterflies follow him since he's death; unlike Pony, who has beef with the bees that follow him, Johnny enjoys their presence.

Doesn’t like to use his power much but (pre-jumping) absolutely will tell a soc with a flat expression when and how they’ll die.

He’d saved Darry from dying at the cost of Mr and Mrs Curtis’ lives. Initially, Darry had been planning to join their parents on the car ride to get the chocolate frosting; and Johnny had come over early to get away from home as they were getting ready to leave. He’d barely gotten to walk past the fae when he got the flashes occurred. Johnny watched everything— saw the crash, the way windows broke and metal crumpled inwards; watched the life drain from Darry’s eyes— and it freaked him out. He couldn’t for the life of him explain what he’d seen, but he wouldn’t let Darry leave; clung to him and wouldn’t let go.

Darry tried using his manipulation to get Johnny to let go, but it didn’t work, and that’s what stopped him from leaving. Their parents went alone, and it was the delay in waiting for Darry to come to the car that caused them to be on the tracks that day.

Johnny hasn’t forgiven himself for it. He thinks that maybe, he could’ve done something different and saved them all. He apologized for weeks— and still apologizes sometimes nowadays.

Johnny has never feared death, it’s hard to when you’re related to it yourself. When Bob died, he didn’t feel remorse until a few minutes after he was stuck there with the corpse. He's the boy of death, this is his normal- it’s only when his humanity returns that he realizes what he’s done.

The only time he's feared death was during/after the church fire. His power practically disabled itself due to how weak he was, and he was terrified. This was going to be it, he was going to lose his life at 16-- and then he woke up in the hospital.

While he was clinically dead, he spoke to Death. It was a simple interaction, just a reassurance that it was not his time to go yet. There was a feeling of comfort in their words, too.

Sometimes, when he sleeps, he sees Death again. One of the first times they'd spoken was when Darry was supposed to die. "Hey bud, that fae was supposed to die-" "No."

Before they could afford to get him mobility aids, Steve and Two helped him get around.

He's got a really uncanny feeling about him, people do not usually like it- Dally enjoyed it, though, 'cause he's fucking bonkers. It doesn't help that he doesn't blink.

He can easily float on the surface of bigger bodies of water because corpses float in water after they begin to decompose.

He's unnaturally cold like a corpse, the cold doesn't bother him because of that, but he does like feeling warm.

GAD, C-PTSD, and Autism. He's also selectively mute but is very vocal with the gang

Johnny still smokes, but being around the smell of smoke for too long makes him panic.

DALLY

Human, he’s the only one of the gang without a curse. However, he’s recently discovered a bit of an,, unsettling change to his daily life.

Dally's been seeing things. Apparations, spirits, whatever you want to call them. He'll see them in the corner of his eye and in certain circumstances can engage with them directly. He's not a fan of it.

Born in New York, moved to Tulsa when he was around seven; Two-Bit welcomed him with a stupid amount of enthusiasm and they’ve been buddies since.

He doesn’t talk about his birth family, no matter how much prompting there is. As far as he’s aware, Buck’s probably the closest thing he’s felt to an authority figure— at least until he grew older and colder, ignoring the role the adult had in his life.

He’s only capable of holding Two’s perching weight because he’s been doing it since they were kids.

He's very good at coping with his chirps too. Likes to whistle and watch that bitch shoot up and stare.

Dally tries his damn hardest to downplay how much Two (or any of the other greasers) mean to him. Vulnerability like that makes him feel too weak, and after having shown that weakness once, he doesn't plan to do so again.

Met Death while unconscious after being shot by the cops. The only reason he's alive is because Johnny would've been destroyed, and Death didn't want to deal with that shit.

Sometimes he feels a little weird about being the only human, but it's more out of a sense of not necessarily belonging there. It's an unconscious thought, one that only manifests in the rare moments when he realizes he feels just as out of place as he did in NYC. Dallas Winston is merely a boy who has never felt at home.

Dally, funnily enough, doesn't pass well as a human. Everyone outside the gang is convinced he's a vampire because he's so pasty and his canine teeth are naturally sharp.

He successfully convinced the gang that he could talk to and control rats. Two is the only person who knows he lied because he bought him a rat once and nothing happened.

He finds out through Two-Bit and Ms. Mathews that Fae can't lie and uses it to blackmail the Curtis bros, since nobody else knows that.

Yknow how he can see ghosts? One time he woke up on the Curtis' couch to Mr and Mrs Curtis in the living room. It freaks him out so bad that he unconsciously blocks them out right after. Blinks really hard a few times until they're gone.

He's the most feral of the gang. It's the New Yorker in him. He's not supernatural, sure, but he will fuck shit up. Absolutely off his rocker, launches people, and rocks their shit.

Dally's the one who found Two-Bit after he got jumped. He's so pissed ab what happened with Pony n Johnny that he wants some sick gratitude by seeing exactly where Bob took his last breath, so that’s where he finds him. He didn't know how to react, panicked HARD.

He's arguably the closest with Johnny and Two-Bit, he's just more open about that connection with Johnny. He's also pretty good friends with Darry, as there are a lot of little things they've found mutual ground on.

He's got claw scars littered around from the harpies. The ones from Two are due to the fucker dive-bombing down to grab him with his talons a little too fast, and the others are from fist-fighting Tim.

He called Ms. Mathews mom once and has not walked physically into the house since out of pure embarrassment. He doesn't even stand on the lawn that's how embarrassed he is by it all.

More general headcanon stuff fuck you but BPD, PTSD, intermittent explosive disorder, and ODD too.

Also a general headcanon but Two-Bit convinced him to get a tattoo during one of his own sessions for his sleeve, so he's got a little switchblade on the back of his leg.

He thought Two-Bit was having a heart attack the first time he heard how fast his heartbeat was.

Non-Canon but a fun fact. If he did die to the cops, he would've come back as a ghost.

ACE

Human, arguably the least passing as one, and she's got pyrokinesis - As usual, it's very self-explanatory. She can create and control fire with the mind, but there are a few limits to it. She can't produce large flames from her hands, and so she usually has to carry a lighter to kickstart her power if needed.

Ace can make very small fires on her fingers but they're not usually big enough to be manipulated. She can go larger as needed, but it'll drain her out. Likes to just light people's cigarettes and make the flame jump from finger to finger.

When she gets super pissed off, her hair sets on fire. The gang uses her to roast marshmallows sometimes.

Ace is unofficially adopted by Ms. Mathews. Shit's been reprised, it follows her canon backstory via Tilly, but she's still very very close with Two and is practically Ms. Mathew's kid.

On that note, has a very familial relationship with Two and his sister. They grew up together, how could they not be? They're absolute fucking chaos when paired, though. She likes to call him any bird other than a crow to see him puff up all annoyed.

She used to threaten to turn him into Thanksgiving dinner if he kept pestering her.

Absolute fucking goblin. She has tried so hard to convince Cherry to help her burn half of the soc's houses down. "We'll spare yours don't worry!!" "N..No."

She can't really swim and it could arguably kill her if she's in water for too long, but if she's mad the water will boil away.

VERY warm by nature for obvious reasons, literally a space heater. Pony flocks to her in the winter because she's so warm

Looks the least human of the humans. She's got horns underneath her hair that are still growing more, and her hands are coated pretty permanently in ash. She gives off a subtle glow and her eyes/teeth look way too bright in the dark. Her eyes burn brighter when she's upset.

Normal headcanon but arguably has the second-worst criminal record in the gang.

She feels very guilty about her power due to how much trauma the others in the gang have gone through relating to it.

Unrelated to the AU itself but she's a lesbian. IDGAF what anyone says.

Ace infatuates Two-Bit by putting on a ring and waving her fire fingers in front of his face. The fire's light bouncing off it makes it look extra shiny, she uses it to get him to do stuff for her. "Oo oo you wanna buy me a Pepsi soooo bad"

Literally just bullies him. They have no clue who's older because Ace doesn't know her birthday but she's self-titled him as her little brother.

Couldn’t control her powers as a kid, the gang is quite literally the first group of people who understood that and didn’t isolate her because she kept accidentally burning them when she got too excited (its emotions tied to an extent, hence why she’s started only channeling it by bottling up her anger until she needs to burst)

If Ace uses her power too much she quite literally burns out. Can’t use any part of it for days and is super fucking exhausted. Winter is her absolute beloathed because it’s a pretty similar feeling she gets. She's very susceptible to frostbite.

She used to make jokes about burning Two’s wings off whenever he’d bother her. For a good while she’s way too afraid of even being close to him after his jumping because she doesn’t want to hurt him with her flames. Two trusts her in full even after the accident but her ass is NOT taking any risk, he thinks he pissed her off somehow for a while until it clicks when he watches her extinguish whatever little flame she’s fidgeting with on her fingers the second he walks in. “I trust you." (wearily) “Should you?”

PTSD and ADHD, along with some pretty bad sensory issues & maybe Pica.

Had a really toxic situationship with Bev. She couldn't see the red flags until Bev harmed one of her own. Their relationship was broken off the mere second she found out who hurt Two. Literally blew up at Bev and burnt herself out due to being so fucking angry. It parallels Paul's "Why would I like a freak like you" towards Darry with Ace telling Bev "I can't believe I loved a monster like you."

Rarepair/Crackship time. Ace x Cherry is canon. We call them Fireworks. They're very slow burn. Cherry needs to come to terms with her feelings and Ace needs to trust another soc again after what happened with Two n Bev.

OTHER CHARACTER THINGS

All of the Shepards are Vulture harpies.

Paul and Cherry of two of the only socs with powers. Cherry's got something akin to electrokinesis and makes little sparks with her hands similar to the way a bomb with a lit fuse would behave. Paul's a witch, but his manifested pretty late; probably post-rumble.

Cherry's fingertips are calloused from her sparks, and she's got a bit of resistance to fire. Her hair sparks like a bomb/fireworks when she gets super pissed off. Ace has tried to weaponize this for the silly.

She tries to hide her sparks. Wears gloves to keep them down and if she has to have them off will clench her fists, even if it burns her.

She's desperate to be good enough to her parents. They're ashamed of her due to her sparks, and all she wants is their approval.

Cherry's got major internalized homophobia for a while, very comphet. Eventually, she comes to terms it.

Paul tweaked the fuck out at first and had a panic attack before realizing he kinda fucked with it. Still has a huge bias against the greasers, though. It's something close to a god complex, but he just thinks he's superior due to his financial status as well. He's just got basic shit like rituals and spells.

Was convinced Darry was using his power on him when he confronted him about the Fae having loved him, cause he cried. It wasn't a heavy cry, just a bitter stare, "Why would I like a freak like you?", and silent tears. Darry still doesn't know how to feel about that.

(9/18 Edit: Take the Paul stuff ab his relationship to the greasers with a grain of salt, we’re changing stuff)

The only reason it's tolerance and not raw hate is because Paul was NOT in on Two being burned 💀Turned around to see Bev with her light and was just like "Well I guess we're cooking chicken tn????"

The socs who jumped Two wear his stolen feathers. The only socs with neat feathers are Cherry and Marcia.

Two's little sister (who I call Molly) once asked their mom (who I call Carolyn) why they couldn't give Two-Bit their molted feathers to 'fix his'

Ms. Mathews has pretty much adopted the entire group emotionally by now. She tries to help Darry with financials but Darry is. Darry.

MISC STUFF

Two-Bit used to get caught in and fly around tornados and Pony always caught sight of that shit. They liked to play a game where he tried to catch him while Two avoided his vines. If they couldn't get him down, Pony would get Soda to ask Steve to use his telekinesis bc Steve would say no if Pony asked.

They also play a game where Steve will fling a member of the gang as far as he can and Two dives after them. It's like fucked up football; Dally offered to be thrown and it was the most fun the three have had-- until they had to stop 'cause Darry caught them and almost had an aneurysm.

The DX windows used to be blank and empty but Soda and Steve started putting stuff up on them so the harpies don’t slam into the glass.

Steve puts Two-Bit in air jail if he tries snatching anything shiny from himself or Soda.

Two, Johnny, and Steve bond over having shitty fathers. Two n Steve do it the most since Johnny doesn’t like to talk about it, but Steve and Two will bitch to hell and back. Johnny's a part of the conversation but just nods and listens. If they have a rough day with their dads, the three of them end up hanging out together.

Johnny, Dally, and Two make people the most uneasy. Johnny's got these blank, dead eyes, Two's smile feels predatory, and Dally's Dally.

All the greaser Harpies look out for one another. It doesn't matter if they're not from the same gang, or if their gangs have tension; you look out for one another. They may necessarily not be each other's flock, but it’s natural for them to stick together.

The harpies love to play fight. They will absolutely beat the shit out of each other and then grab lunch as if nothing happened. All of the harpies have bird habits. Most of them sleep on their stomach.

Dally took something shiny out of Two's hands when they were kids, and Two cried.

Ace makes fun of Two-Bit's choice of men because they're lesbian and bisexual solidarity. "Thoughts?" "And prayers, you'll need them." The only time she ever was like ‘Wow you made a good pick’ was when he jokingly said it about Darry. "Thoughts?” ��Your only good pick, He’s got my blessing.” ">:0"

During the real cold months when Darry has to decide between heating or food on the table, Two and Ace practically move in bc a walking blanket and space heater.

{ Tags List: @nova-drawzz @timewing06 }

[skylarsblue]

✦Slashers With A Strong S/O✦

✦Note; Gender Neutral Reader, fluff, no warnings! I added a few for my own enjoyment, hope you don't mind! 

FOR SOME FUCKIN REASON THIS POST GLITCHED OUT HELLA HARD, SO I'M REPOSTING IT JUST IN CASE. IF YOU REQUESTED THIS I'M SORRY YOU DIDN'T GET NOTIFIED RIGHT AWAY. TUMBLR'S A BITCH

✦Michael: He/Him, Jason: He/Him, Billy: He/It, Bubba: He/They/She, Bo: He/Him, Vincent: They/He, Danny: He/They

❀Michael Myers❀

Oh, he has no idea how to feel. This is OG Myers, he's got a pretty average build. 5'10", 190-somethin' pounds. Though he has super-human strength, for some reason, there are certainly people bigger than him. He knows this...he doesn't have to like it though. He likes being this strong and imposing figure that makes hearts sink. The fact he likes you is amazing as it is, the fact he doesn't feel a little threatened by you is even more bewildering.

Do not try to pick him up for no reason/out of nowhere. Not in the beginning, at least. You don't want to push your luck. As strong as you may be, he's immortal, so he'll find a way to ensure you know your place. He doesn't like being overpowered.

That being said, there are certain scenarios where your strength comes in handy, and it's in these times he'll begrudgingly admit to himself that he likes it. For example, when he's wounded enough to actually affect his ability to walk. Don't tease him as you princess carry him, but he is silently appreciative, as embarrassing as it is.

Michael's just very aware when he's in a position that's vulnerable. He's never liked that feeling, so it'll take a long time for him to be comfortable with the knowledge that you're powerful enough to hoist him up without breaking a sweat. Give it some time though and he'll start to enjoy it. He'll never admit it though.

Don't expect him to koala you, ever. But at some point, he'll start to be okay with you carrying him up the stairs when he's hurt from a hunt, or moving him to the couch during those rare times he gets sick from his poor wound care.

All and all, he'll never admit to liking your strength, but eventually, he'll come to find it useful. Just don't push your luck. He'll still stab you if you forget his terrifying reputation.

❀Jason Voorhees❀

Well, if he likes you, he trusts you a whole lot. Jason's all or nothing when it comes to comfort/trust. This means, unlike Michael, he doesn't really have any worries or insecurities over your strength. He thinks it's rather impressive actually! Depending on your height, if you're like...under 5'8"? He's gonna be double impressed.

Living in the woods and being self-sustainable is hard work. It requires a lot of physical labor. Carrying lumber around, building things, carrying heavy metal to set up his traps, fixing up the cabins. Jason can do it with ease, but it can get pretty tiresome when that's all he does. Lugging around logs of firewood and dead bodies. A corpse doesn't pull its own weight, after all.

Having you around and willing to help is extremely helpful! He's too polite to go out of his way to ask for your help, but when you do it anyways, it makes his stomach feel all weird. What gives him the shock of his life...(afterlife?) is when you lift him up for the first time.

He lets out a surprised grunt and looks around like a freaked-out cat. Processing the fact his significant other hoisted his 6'5", 200+ pound ass right off the ground without any struggle. It makes him admittedly a bit flustered.

He'd prefer if you gave him a little warning before you do it, it kinda freaks him out when you lift him all of a sudden, but that doesn't mean he dislikes it. Quite the contrary! He won't ask for it but when you lift him up and hold him there, it makes him feel safe. It reminds him of being a kid, when his mother would carry him virtually everywhere. Bringing back those old memories before he lost her is an easy way to make Jason melt.

He'll constantly worry about being too heavy, and he'll weakly insist you stop lifting him. He doesn't want you hurting yourself! Of course, you know better, and it makes his heart happy that you insist on doing it anyway.

❀Billy Lenz❀

Billy's a bit iffy with touch. Sometimes he can't get enough, other times he shuts down completely at the lightest tap. But he trusts you which means you get a pass more often. It likes your touch! Your touch doesn't mean bad things!

Billy's not very heavy or big. It's rather slim, actually. Bit of a twig, really. About 5'6", not including the heels on his boots, and maybe around 125 pounds soaking wet. Picking him up really isn't that difficult, to be honest. Still! It'll make him light up when you hold him aloft like a cat. On an excitable day, it'll squirm and giggle relentlessly.

On days where he's really not lucid, but not hyperactive either, he likes to cling to you like a koala. It doesn't matter if he's in the way, he's stuck to you for a while. It's probably the best time to cuddle it in all honesty. He won't talk much, doesn't really move either, just settles against you. Letting you be the anchor in reality so he doesn't drift off into space. It prefers that dynamic much more than panic attacks.

He tries to pick you up once and he fails, absolutely. Billy's a climber and he can hoist his own body weight just fine, but it's a different scenario when lifting someone else. Though the experience definitely makes him like how strong you are a lot more than before. Now it's twice as impressive.

Sometimes he squirms around when you lift him up. Be cautious of his legs, especially if you got a pair of nuts. Those boots are pretty damn effective at crotch shots.

❀Bubba Sawyer❀

Oh, Bubs is so flustered so quick, bro. Bubba is a big, big baby. Just shy of 6'6" and over 300 lbs. No one can just lift him. They haven't been lifted up since they were a kid, and even then it was rare. He's always been heavier set and his eldest brother often insisted it was a pain to lift him.

Here you come though, buff as hell, raising her off the ground like she weighs nothing. It definitely makes them all giddy. Bubba will start squeaking and squealing, flapping his hands all excitedly. Please carry Bubba like a princess, they'll swoon so hard.

It's guaranteed he'll be really worried about your back though. He's been hyper-aware of his weight for a long time, it's an insecurity they've always dealt with. All of her brother's comments definitely make her worry that you'll hurt yourself trying to carry her.

As a result of this? Carry him more, it'll make him melt completely. Go ahead and shower him with compliments while you hold him off the ground. It's the easiest way to make Bubba fall for you even harder. If y'all weren't already married, you will be now, it's sealed.

Sometimes Chop-Top & Nubbins will bother you to do the same with them. Bubba will let out little noises of discontent, they like to be the only one you pick up and carry. It's special for them! Though they won't insist you say no to his brothers, he will feel all fuzzy if you insist it's a Bubba-Only Privilege.

No matter your size, weight, or height? She'll return the favor. Bubba's used to heavy lifting, he's a butcher farmhand! It's only fair he share the experience, plus, it feels nice to have you close to him all day. Worry not about her arms, she was built for this!

❀Danny -Jed Olsen- Johnson❀

Ghostface is all over that shit man. He's so into it. If you're a victim, it's annoying, because it makes his job harder. But you're not! Not anymore, anyway, so he gets to appreciate all that strength. The knowledge you could probably whoop his ass definitely gives him a feeling of warmth in his face...and groin.

Danny's athletic and fit, but he's not Pyramid-Head levels of buff by any means. 5'11", bout 190 somethin' pounds. They're strong enough to lift twice their body weight with minimal struggle, but it's not every day you come across someone who can carry you like it's nothing.

I imagine you probably did it first in order to prove a point. Danny likes to tease, they probably make a little comment about being stronger than you, only for you to pick him up like it was nothing. It definitely catches him off guard for a bit, which is hard to do! As soon as it processes though? He's back to flirting with a smug-ass grin. He's a little shit.

After that, they'll try to get you to do it again, usually by annoying you or insisting it was a fluke and that you're not as strong as you look. It's only because he's secretly too embarrassed to admit he just likes being held. Danny's a switch and you can fight me on that. He won't admit it but he likes being carried like a pretty princess sometimes, makes him feel all cute.

One day, he'll come home all exhausted and annoyed. A day when their job was stressful, probably his coworkers being bitches, the coffee machine wouldn't work. It's times like that when he wants to go batshit crazy. Drop the Jed persona and stab everyone in sight.

They won't say a word when they walk into whatever room you're in, storming up to you at great speed. He stops right in front of you and stares at you for a bit, then after a beat of silence, he opens his arms and makes the grabby hand motion. Tips of their ears are bright red. He'll hush you really dramatically if you make a comment, but he melts when you pick him up. Just kinda chills there until the annoyance of everyday life finally settles back down. This one instance turns into a habit, for sure.

❀Bo Sinclair❀

Did someone say FRAGILE MASCULINITY?! Yeah, Bo's gonna be real fuckin' huffy for a while. Like Michael, he doesn't like the idea of being vulnerable, nor does he like the idea of his significant other being stronger than him. He's been conditioned into a traditional headspace. He's the provider! He's the stronger one! That's the rule!

It'll take a long time before he's completely comfortable with the fact he finds how easily you lift heavy things attractive. Given that's essentially the complete opposite of his usual "type". Weak, submissive, someone easy to assert power over. He was raised in a circumstance where he was always weaker, so as a result, he tries to pursue the other role. Being the strong and imposing figure.

It'll probably be like two years before you can lift him up without Bo getting genuinely upset. Doing it before then will probably lead to a fight that he'll brood over for a few days.

Man still bitches when you do it though, he just won't insist on screaming at you for hours. The best case scenario to do this is probably when a visitor goes rogue and hurts him enough to where he needs help walking. Complaining the whole time, he'll let you carry him back to the couch, as long as you ensure his brothers don't see.

Like with Jason, if you're on the shorter side, it'll confuse him. Wondering where you keep all that strength in your little body. He'll get a bit competitive, but he won't inform you that you two are competing. It makes him frustratingly turned on when he sees you toss a body like it's nothing, or lift a giant truck tire without breaking a sweat. Bo will deny it up until he literally can't anymore. He'll spill it to you but if you make a single teasing comment, he's kickin' you in the shin and storming off.

Oh, and bonus? You have a secret advantage at tapping into that well-guarded sub-space portion of Bo's brain. Just be gentle cause he is EXTREMELY fragile, a lot more than he lets on.

❀Vincent Sinclair❀

Well, you probably started as a visitor, which means they have to kill you. So in that situation, he finds your strength extremely aggravating. It's very annoying. But! You're not a victim anymore and so now he has no trouble admitting they find it incredibly attractive.

Between both of his brothers, he ranks second in physical strength to Bo, but that doesn't mean he's weak at all. We all saw how easily he can cut off a fuckin' head with two knives. Or impale a skull with a broken pipe. They're extremely dangerous and strong. Now that being said, you being stronger than them makes them feel...well, it makes them feel something for sure.

Lifting Vincent up isn't that hard. He's not light necessarily, but he's not that heavy either. No, it's the fact you can carry him around that makes them all flustered. It's one thing to lift someone, but to continuously support their weight whilst walking around like it's nothing? It's something Vincent hyperfixates on every time you do it.

Vincent's very touch-starved. Like, extremely. Though it makes his face burn when you throw them over your shoulder, he melts all the same. He won't actively encourage it like Danny, but he will try to subtly hint when he wants to be picked up. Hoping you'll notice the signs and do it on your own to save them the embarrassment of actually asking.

If Bo isn't around, Vincent loves nothing more than to cling to you while you do household chores. Admittedly, he gets a little too into it if you switch his weight onto your hip and hold him up with one arm. As if they needed any more confirmation that you're buff as hell. You'll probably hear them squeak and quickly try to force down the embarrassment. He's never considered himself the submissive type, somewhere in the middle instead, but you DEFINITELY MAKE THEM QUESTION.

When doing maintenance on the House of Wax, sometimes you'll lift them on your shoulders so they don't have to break out the ladder. He'll struggle to lose himself in the art of wax with your hands holding his thighs steady. And Bo never lets him live it down if the man notices just how much Vincent likes you showing off how strong you are

[lunarzstarz]

(12 Days of Kinkmas) Day 4: Face Sitting

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni fingering, oral (reader giving), face riding, established relationship, reader is more in control in this one

Summary: Robin is still pretty clueless and anxious when it comes to sex, so you come up with an idea that will help her finally come out of her shell...

A/N: Hii guys, I'm so sorry I took so long to post again, I really wanted to stay on top of this series but I got pretty busy, so sorry for my absence. I just wanna say thank you so fucking much for 200 followers and 2000+ notes of "The No List" I love every single one of you so much, thank you for all the kind words <3

Also for those of you that have sent me requests I see them, I promise I'm working on them when I can and they will be out soon!

As always likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Word Count: 1.6K

Robin was still relatively new to the dating game when you met her. Sure she had a few crushes here and there, but nothing ever came of them, leaving her feeling inexperienced when it came to girls. Then she met you. 

“D-does that feel good?” she asked, she was so unsure of herself. 

“Mhm, so good baby, making me feel so good” you’d praise her, in hopes it would get her to relax. It was still early days in your relationship and you were so patient with her, never pressuring her to do things, waiting until she initiated it. 

She continued to pump her fingers at just the right pace, getting you closer and closer to the edge. She really tried to pay close attention to what made you get there, all the things that made you buck your hips or make any sort of sound that told her what she was doing was right. It got harder to concentrate though when you made such pretty sounds or when you’d pull her in to kiss her, no matter how many times she’d done it, kissing you would always make her feel warm inside. 

You reached up and tugged her down by her shirt into a heated kiss, moaning against her lips as she curled her fingers, tips brushing against your soft spot perfectly. “Right there- shit- right there” you cried out as your release washed over you. She slowed down, dragging out your orgasm for as long as she could.

You pulled her hand away once you’d had enough, flipping her over so you could be on top. You leaned down to kiss her again, more gentle this time, you didn’t want to be too rough with her just yet, not until she was ready. “You’re so pretty” you mumble against her skin as you move across her jaw and down to her neck “So, so pretty and you make me feel so good.”

She only lets out little gasps in response as you suck onto the skin of her neck, she still got all flustered when you complimented her. You work your way down until you can’t get any further with the obstacle of her still being fully clothed in the way. Robin never really liked taking her clothes off, it was a fear she was still learning to overcome, her own head getting the better of her, but with you, you made it a lot easier. 

“Can I?” you ask, fingers tugging on the first button on her shirt, you see that strike of fear cross her face, same as the first time. You wanted to know who ever made her feel that way. In your eyes, Robin was perfect and whoever made her believe otherwise deserved their ass beat and you’d gladly do it, but for now you had to settle with telling her the truth about herself. 

“You don’t have to be scared with me Robin, you know I love everything about you” you remind her, moving the stray hairs from her face so she would look at you “you know that right?” She stares at you for a moment, nobody had ever made her feel the way that you do, she trusted you so she nodded. 

You try again, undoing the top button on her shirt, paying close attention to her incase she changes her mind. You took things slow, kissing each new piece of exposed skin with each button until you reached above her jeans, unbuttoning the last one, placing one final kiss above her pants. 

When you sat up to fully remove the shirt from her, she's watching you, glossy eyed and red cheeked. You give her a fond smile, sliding her arms out of the item of clothing, out of habit she immediately covers herself. “Don’t” you take her hands, kissing her knuckles as you straddled her waist, placing her hand onto your bare hips. 

She caressed the skin there, while you let your hands roam up her bare stomach to her chest. She was wearing a lavender coloured bra, small lace butterflies adorning the edges of the cups. You admired her, tracing your fingertips over the straps, tugging on them slightly “Can I take this off?” you ask again, she’s faster to respond this time, giving you a quick nod and a squeeze on your hips. 

You reach around to unclasp it, Robin is quick to return her hands to you, lowering them this time, almost touching the flesh of your ass, but still hesitant. Leaning down again, you suck one of her hardened nipples into your mouth, cupping the other one with your free hand. 

“Oh-” she let out a surprised gasp when you sucked on her tits, her grip on you becoming tighter as you nipped at her chest. 

“You good?” you checked in, as you switched sides. 

“Mhm, great” she replied, almost breathless. 

“Getting all worked up already and I’ve only just started” you tease, her hips rock beneath you. You made your way down her stomach again, stopping just above her belt, but before you could even ask for permission she’s begging for it. 

“Please” she pleads, bucking her hips again, so you listened. You unbuckled her belt and undo her jeans, pulling them down and off her legs, leaving her in nothing but a pair of panties that matched her bra from earlier. 

“So beautiful” you say, placing kisses just above her knees before guiding them apart. She leans up on her elbows to watch, bottom lip tucked tightly between her teeth as you leave a trail of kisses up the insides of her soft thighs. Your hands run along the sides of her legs as you inched closer to her clothed clit. 

“Want you to sit on my face” you blurt, voice muffled as you suck on her skin, you feel her freeze for a moment. 

“W-what?” she asks, making sure she heard you right. 

“Want you to sit on my face” you repeat, this time more clearly, looking up at her from between her thighs “You’d don’t have to of course.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just, I don’t want to suffocate you or something” she avoids looking at you, you laugh. 

“Robin, you are not gonna suffocate me, I promise” you take her hand in yours “It’ll be fun, just thought it would help get you out of your shell.” 

Her eyes finally find yours “You sure?” 

You beam up at her “Positive.” 

“Okay…but you have to tell me if I’m squishing you!” she warns and you oblige. 

“I will, now come on” you lay flat on your back, waiting for her to get on top. She slipped out of her underwear, now fully naked as she knelt beside you. You guided her to straddle your chest “Just let me know if you want to stop.”

“Okay” she takes a shaky breath, shuffling forward so her cunt is just centimeters from your lips, still hesitant to put her full weight on you. You ease her down, craning your neck so your mouth meets her clit, you give it a chaste kiss making her laugh. 

You lick a stripe all the way from her entrance to her clit, her knees buckling slightly causing her to fall forward, gripping onto the headboard for support. You hooked your arms under her thighs and brought her flush to your mouth making her cry out. 

“H-holy shit!” she gasped, feeling your tongue prodding her entrance, your nose nudging her clit with every movement of your head. The taste of her arousal had you groaning against her cunt, sending shocks of pleasure through her core, the coil in her stomach already becoming impossibly tight. 

Reaching one of your hands up to cup her tits as they bounce with each rock of her hips, she was finally letting herself go, letting herself feel good, letting you make her feel good. Your free hand squeezing the flesh of her ass and thighs, holding her impossibly close, she was moaning your name over and over, you knew she wasn’t gonna last long. 

“Fuck that feels so good baby, so- oh fuck” her moans growing louder as her release was getting closer. She gripped onto your hair, using it as leverage as her hips rutted against your mouth, chasing her high. You let her lose herself, holding onto her thighs as you focused on making her feel good and the lewd wet sounds and loud cries that bounced off the walls, thankful for nobody being home tonight. 

“Oh shit I’m gonna cum” she pants, her rhythm faltering. 

“That’s it baby, cum on my mouth” you encouraged her, but your voice was muffled by her cunt. 

She came with a loud cry of your name, thighs clamping around you, her release dripping onto your tongue as you lapped at her until she couldn’t take it anymore. She collapsed onto the mattress next to you, the two of you trying to catch your breath. 

“Holy shit that was…fucking amazing” she pants out, making the both of you laugh. 

“Yeah, it was” you agree, pulling her in close and nuzzling into the crook of her neck. You were both basking in the aftermath of her release, bodies coated in a sheer layer of sweat as you clung to each other. 

“Thanks for being patient with me” Robin finally breaks the silence, her voice quiet like she's on the verge of sleep. 

“Of course” you kiss the side of her neck, giving her hand a slight squeeze “Was worth the wait, especially after that.” You feel her nod in agreement, the both of you too tired to form words as you drift off, wrapped up in each other's arms. 

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

status of babbit's life yeehaw

tl,dr: busy moving and a couple of other big life things that just complicate things, but well on the way to being back to normal! new fic chapters and better quality art coming soon.

tl,wr (too long, will read):

Helloooo what's up its me, Babbit. or Rabbit. or Bones. or Idiot Moron Menace Child, idk im not picky lol

i know a lot of you guys have been wondering wtf is up with my upload schedule lately and the extreme lack of even basic content and also i am extremely aware that i have not updated my fics in a few millennia and for that i am very, very sorry. this post is to answer a few questions you might have, if anyone was curious about the 'reason' instead of just the 'when.'

my family and i have had a hell of a year, y'all. like, jesus christ, i really hope things level out and calm down for a while once we're moved in to our new apartment bc god damn we are so tired. the list goes: 1. we got kicked out of the house we were renting-to-own bc we wouldn't be able to afford the new rate, so they gave us two months to find a new place to live (not long enough, it turns out) and then foreclosed to get us out. 75% of our belongings were still in the house when we had to leave. that includes all of our christmas ornaments- including the ones kept for decades, and the ones made by me and my siblings, and the fancy ones made from blown glass. 2. the first night out of the house, one of our dogs, freaked out by the strangeness of the situation, panicked and slipped her harness and ran off. that was over a year ago. we haven't seen her since. 3. my cat got very ill and became unable to eat. she passed away almost exactly a year ago. she had been 14-15, and had been my baby since i was maybe 8. 4. one of the tires on my dads car blew out. during the night, while it was parked on the curb so he could put the spare on in the morning, one of the in-tact tires was fucking stolen LMAO 5. we applied to rent at so many places and got rejected so, so many times. it costs money to apply, btw. we're talking like $200+. no, u don't get that money back. 6. i lost my job bc knowing i would have to work 8 hours at a job that stresses me out to the point of exhaustion (at a place where no one takes me seriously and would actively laugh at me when i try to express my need to step away for a minute) sometimes paralyzed me and made me sick to my stomach and made me feel unable to leave the house, and i called out one too many times. a day after my birthday, too! 7. just recently, like within the last week, my dad's car got fuckin totalled!!!!!

THE GOOD NEWS IS WE OFFICIALLY, FINALLY, AFTER A SOLID YEAR, HAVE AN APARTMENT!!!!! I'LL HAVE MY OWN ROOM AGAIN!!! THERE'S AN ENTIRE KITCHEN!!!!!!!

the 'oh god' news is we still have to move in, and replace a lot of the stuff that we just couldn't take with us when we moved out (mostly stuff like bookshelves, dining table, dressers, etc) AND get the few things we could cram into a storage center out and moved into the new place, which isn't a lot but at the same time is more than we can realistically handle on our own. and then, we have to get my mums cats (a pair of kitty sisters that we had to temporarily house with my aunt, who got tired of looking after them and let them outside to be outdoor cats a few months ago. yes, this was an extremely shitty thing to do, and we've been working hard to get them back safely) AND my gecko (who my cousin has been looking after, even tho feeding him worms freaks him out LMAO yes i plan on compensating him) moved in, as well... basically oh my god there is so much to worry about but at the same time it's nice to have to worry about it bc it means we're making progress sdkfhsjdkfhdsjfh

basically i am just so tired but so busy and also thinkin abt so much im so sorry for lack of stuff but i am so looking forward to being able to bounce back, pls stick with me, it'll be sorted out soon i think and then i'll hit y'all with some good stuff i promise!!!!!!!

anyway thank u guys i love u and appreciate u all for sticking around

[ohmotherwhereartthou-if]

200 Followers Reward: Part 1

Sorry I never got around to posting these, there will be 3 more of these coming as soon as I finish them. Enjoy!

Eria Short Story

The candle flickers as it fights the bitter cold winds flowing into the cabin through the gaps in the door. Mama pushed clothes under the gaps to try and fight it, but they froze and now the fabric lies stiff while the wind seems to seep through them. 

I huddle in the corner, wrapped and bundled up with as many blankets I could find. Papa went out to chop some wood for the fireplace, mama had called him crazy because it was bright and sunny out. Though he said it felt a little chill in the air and that we should be prepared in any case. That was hours ago.

I can’t see outside, the windows are dark and only the flashes of bitter white snow and ice slam against the glass. My body shutters, or so I think; I can’t feel anything. My fingers and toes are white, just like mama's were before they turned black and fell off. She is sleeping in her bed, she couldn’t move anymore and asked me to help her lie down. We were cuddling to keep warm but it wasn’t working, she told me she loved me and not to disturb her now. She hasn’t moved once since then, even though she usually turns a lot when she sleeps.

I’m so cold now.

There is ice forming on the walls, I can see my breath in the air. Like mist, it reminds me of a dragon. If I were a dragon, I’d breathe fire and warm everything up. That way mama can wake up and papa can find his way home. I hope he’s okay.

A loud bang makes me flinch, I turn to the front window. I see a bright blue light outside, papa usually shines his lantern outside the window when he comes home, maybe it’s him? I try to shuffle my way closer to the door but it’s hard, I can’t feel my legs. 

The door handle turns once. Then it sits still, did papa forget his keys? Or can he not move like me? He is outside, it must be so much colder out there then it is in here. 

Oh no, he could be like mama right now!

I try to shout out to him to hold on, I lean my weight forward and fall onto my stomach. I then crawl slowly with my forearms, inching closer to the door.

“Hold on papa! I’m coming, just hold on. Please...”

The door seems ages away but finally I make it. I lean against it and try to pull myself upward, it’s hard and my whole body tingles as the cold seems to intensify and radiate off of this door. It hurts to be here so close to it but I have to help papa. I manage to slip myself against the door and try to reach up for the knob. My hand feels like it is moving in slow motion, it takes so long to move it upwards; my hand grabs the knob in a slack hold. I fumble with turning the knob, not able to get a firm grip.

My hand slips. Shit.

I try again, and fail. I groan in frustration and try again once more.

I finally manage to get a hold on the handle, I turn the lock and push it open ajar. A rush of cold air bursts its way into our home, the muffled roar of the winds now screams in my ears as it finds its way inside. I look through the slightly opened door, snow finds its way in my eye; I can’t see anything. Not even a few feet in front of me. 

We had a small garden right outside of our door; with a few small fruit trees. Me and mama were so excited to bake fruit pies, papa was looking forward to eating them.

“P-papa? Are you out here? Papa!” I yell out for him but can’t see anything. I can’t feel my face anymore, my eyelashes are freezing over. I close the door with what strength I have left, I leave it unlocked for papa. 

I can’t move anymore… not even an inch.

I feel sleepy, like mama. I think… I'm gonna rest for a bit. Just close my eyes… for a little while.

…

….

…..

The world moves Slower

Damn that witch.

She gave me the wrong directions. Again.

I grit my teeth, my frustration bleeding out into the atmosphere.

Just wait till the next time I see you witch, I’ll see you crystalized in ice and use you to decorate my parlor room. I march through the freshly fallen snow, stepping over the deep layers without my feet sinking. Instantly creating patches of solid ice with each step.

Agh. How annoying.

I try to calm my irritation but it’s futile. I need to rest a moment, meditate.

I imagine for many of the useless fruit flies that populate the land, they would be blinded by my storm. Their eyes unable to see through the falling snow, pathetic.

My eyes are not so weak. I see a small cabin off in the distance and begin my stride towards it. This place is so pitiful, a once grassy valley with the sweet constant caress of the warm sun to ward off the frost of winter. Defenceless, worthless, and useless.

I step on a lump in the road as I make my way over to the cabin, I turn my head back for a moment; the lump I just iced over was in fact the back of a man. He has a bundle of firewood tucked under his arm, was probably trying to make it to the cabin before he keeled over and froze to death. How pathetic.

As I near the cabin I see the upright sticks of young dead trees, a little garden just outside the house. Little trees that will now never blossom nor bear fruit. I can see a little wooden sword under layers of snow, alongside a set of wooden soldiers; a young boy lives here. How adorable. 

I stand in front of the entrance for a moment, losing a mental battle in my mind. Ugh. 

This day just seems to never cease irritating me.

With a withering look the wood of the dead trees turns to solid ice in a bright blue flash, frost flowers start to bloom on the crystal branches. I glide my gaze over to wooden soldiers, with a slight wave of my hand I construct a little fort of ice for them. There. 

Everything in its place. Even if everyone who lived here is dead, there is something left behind to commemorate their fleeting existence.

I approach the door, placing my hand on the handle. I turn it experimentally.

“Oh?” It’s unlocked, how unexpected. I turn the handle and open the door, quaint little place. 

I invite myself in, only I kick something with my foot as I enter. The body of a young adolescent boy slumps over, his skin is as white as snow. Prestage frostbite, judging by the dead woman lying in the bed and the man I found outside; this boy is now an orphan. 

Ugh, how delightful.

[hitechlatte]

Prince Charming's Jacket Update

Okay okay okay so FINALLY finished another Chapter.

A BUNCH of stuff got edited and moved around during the work on this last chapter, so the chapter numbers are different now.

The new chapter count for PCJ is 17 chapters, and I just finished Chapter 15. So moving on next to Chapter 16.

But good news, doing all these edits now will help the full edits take WAY less time. Like due to some continuity errors, I had to go through a full set of edits on the first 9 1/2 chapters. So over half the fic is in pretty good shape.

When I finish Chapter 16 and 17 I will let you all know an official start date of what date and time I plan to post the first chapter for PCJ.

Thank you all for your patience and love and support! You all rule and can't wait to share more <3

P.S. So sorry I haven't gotten back to a lot of your comments on recent posts! Will be responding to stuff soon <3

P.S.S. Can someone explain to me how my google doc is already 200 pages long and I still have two more chapters to go lol?

[mizuta]

far from it to be my style to post about hashtag mental health issues on main but like. look. ive& been psychotic as far back as i can tangibly remember (hallucinating at 10-11, cognitive symptoms and episodes by 13-14). its been a part of my life so long that like... in a lot of ways im used to it and coping with symptoms and my life grew around a lot of the symptoms. like a tree trunk growing around a foreign object as a sapling. something that pierces directly through the middle but doesnt really impact the trees ability to stay alive in any meaningful way.

so like in a lot of ways im used to being in my own head. my partner is good at recognizing that things that are distressing to me in episodes dont process whatsoever as distressing to me a good chunk of the time. when im acting visibly distressed it actually means my level of distress is at like, 200%. its fucking unmanageable. if im visibly distressed its worse than anyone could conceptualize because typically otherwise im just numb to a lot of it or its just default my reality that its not distressing in any meaningful way until after the fact.

but like im ngl just because ive spent all of my teenage years upwards trying to take up literally the least space possible to exist and never show 80% of my "unacceptable" symptoms to 99% of people does not mean it makes it any less uncomfortable or awkward to like. be the token psychotic in some groups. to have to be the buzzkill and shit thats like hey sorry heres my hyperspecific request of the year because im fucking insane.

its miserable in a fresh new way of like sorry to have to remind everyone that its not actually a funny character quirk or joke my brain literally does not exist in your 'reality' in any meaningful way and the further outside of it i am on a given day the more unpleasant youre going to find me to be around. ignoring the insane person talking aimlessly in public doesnt actually help me it usually just reinforces that youre not real and never will be if its a bad enough day.

its never intentional. like nobody is ever doing this on purpose. especially again because i spent so much of my life being very good at hiding it. but like... it sucks so much to be masking half the time and be a little too good at it so when you stop being able to people are always levels of uncomfortable or upset. it sucks when you cant articulate anything properly and nobody really knows how to understand what youre asking for. it sucks when you have multiple severe memory conditions and cant trust your own memory and everyone immediately questions your memory when you ask for anything or point anything out. like of course im just going to fucking fold.

i dont know where im going with this or if this itself is even that coherent i know it sounds super vague but it really isnt about anyone specific im just babbling about like years worth of garbage. i got so fucked over by fakeclaiming culture because unfortunately when i started really displaying symptoms i was a teenager trying not to kill himself and being fucking insane loudly in virtual public when that was apparently an "obvious sign of exaggerating" so i had to learn to shut the fuck up and now everybody loves to forget how much im fucking unwell because god forbid you think too hard about what youre saying around others.

thank god for my partner who is literally the first person in my entire life whos ever tried to understand and genuinely knows how to talk to me when im in a particularly bad delusion or hallucinating or whatever.

man. im tired. i found out this last month i probably need to get a cane when i move out and i still feel like im going to be appropriating shit because severe knee and upper leg paint and severe balance problems cant be that bad. i hate having memory problems so bad that i so easily can be told that i dont know shit and Y is actually what happened and i usually cant actually argue against it even if im so sure thats not true.

[rainworld-idiot]

/e wave

hrrmememem ERRM snort/j hello omor fandom,,,, iv come to loredump an AU I have !!!!!! helloh !!!!!!!!!! hii !!!!! (autism creature) Angel Mari AU !!! Before I even TRY to talk about the AU itself, I need to talk about my versions of Heaven and Hell !! Heaven is a large brighter area full of fluffy clouds , towns , cities etc etc . SINGERS PALACE is the MAIN building !! (SINGER is this heavens GOD) the building is big enough for 200 foot tall angels to fly through (Angels n Demons height limits are all the way up to 200 feet !) it seems like smaller creatures would get lost really easy but just around every corner there are barrels full of Maps with an enchantment to highlight the holders current area , and it moves along with them to guide them ! Hell is dark and has a similar Palace , though MUCH more dark and gloomy and VERY lonely . And in the cities and towns one thing you'll almost ALWAYS hear is - Heavy Metal ! these beasts love their metal . DANCER is this Hell's SATAN ! And one thing to mention of demons and angels as a whole , most are not , "humans with wings and a halo" or Imps of some sort ! They are beasts , dragon-like creatures with usually many legs , wings , many halos , eyes , etc etc ! There still are "Humans" and Imps , but there are mostly biblically accurate angels and MAINLY beasts . There can be "cross-breeds" between Angels and Demons , If they look more like Angels they live in Heaven if they look like Demons they live in Hell , Though the creatures look similar on their talons there are marks , Of either a Cross , or an upside-down cross ! Both if crossbred . I won't get into in this post but it will be mentioned in the AU itself , there are ranks for both kinds of creatures , And angels n demons can manifest into worlds and take "Attachments" a thing they do for fun ! It's basically guiding someone till the end of their days and taking them to where they need to be after-death . Onto the AU sorry for the long explanation :[ When Mari dies she manages to get up into Heaven , angels and such find lots of interest into her . And it so happens heirs for the "Head Angels Assistant" and the one WITH that rank himself was killed just two hours before Mari's arrival , by an unknown assassin . BOPW [Beast of Pounding Waves] takes Mari under his wings to guide her as the new Assistant to him , BOPW is the HEAD ANGEL . Mari gets a whole apartment within SINGERS PALACE , and a Beast Form , she is taught the basics and as she is weened into being BOPW's Assistant she is given a small army of over 300 Angels to command , "The Moon Group" as it is called . After lots of boring work and making friends with many of the Palace's residents and her own Army members , It seems that there is commotion with an Angel [SHADOW SERAPH RANKED] that Mari had sent to watch over Sunny , Basil and the rest of the group . A demon by the name "Mercha" is targetting her , trying to desperately Slaughter the Angel for giggles , though Mari is taking no shit from Mercha and goes down there herself with her top 10 members of The Moon Group ,

They all pummel Mercha into the ground , Ending in his death . Mari checks up on "Dandelion" the Angel she had sent down while she was busy and then the friend group ! As it seems they ... Saw the entire thing . Through the shock and sadness of them all she takes Sunny as an attachment as an excuse to stay down in her "old-world" for a while , one of The Moon Groups members taking over her job temporarily . Oh and I forgot to mention because this is a WHOLE other can of worms . Mari and BOPW have accidentally bombed a section of HELL before , DESTROYING half of DANCERS PALACE on accident !

[purpledragonhome]

Fairy Accountant

A little story I wrote to pass the time one night.

I am the original author. I wrote this in September 2020. This is the first time posting it anywhere online. I hope those that read it enjoy it.

I was walking through the woods one morning without really paying attention to where I was going and I came across a small clearing. In this clearing sat a small winged person. The wings looked like the wings of a dragonfly only a little bit shorter and a little bit pointier. The person was so small she was the size of a doll. In fact I thought she was a doll when I first saw her. Until she moved. She didn’t see me at first so I just watched in silence. She wore a snug fitting light blue suit, comfortable looking flat shoes that perfectly matched her suit and had on a tiny pair of half frame spectacles. Her purple-red hair was pulled back into a pony tail and tied with a pink ribbon. She was writing something in a tiny book. When She paused and looked up that’s when she noticed me. I nodded to her, she nodded back, calmly put her things in a small briefcase I didn’t see before then started to fly away. She paused when she was almost out of the clearing, turned around and flew to me instead. I didn’t move the entire time she was flying. I only watched. When she was just out of reach she said “You didn’t sneak up on me and you didn’t chase after me. Why?” My reply was simple as I took a seat. “I don’t like being chased, so I assumed you wouldn’t either.” “And now you aren’t even trying to catch me. Instead you are talking to me, making no aggressive moves what so ever. In fact you are doing the opposite. You sat down.” She narrows her eyes. “This isn’t some kind of trick is it?” “Nope. It’s just more comfortable to talk to someone while sitting.” I take a quick glance around looking for something for her to sit on. I spot a small rock few feet away. “There is a rock you can sit or stand on right there. It’s out of my reach if that will make you more comfortable. Just so you can give your wings a rest.” She looks to where I’m pointing. “I don’t get you. You aren’t like other humans.” She slowly descends to the rock, lands so that she is standing on it. “No, I’m not like a lot of people, or humans, as you say. Most people don’t wonder in the woods without knowing where they are anymore. I’m not here to hurt anything, catch anything, or even pick the flowers. Just to think and to look at things as they should be. We introduce ourselves and start talking about our lives. As it turns out we are both accountants. She needed a vacation since she hasn’t had one in almost 200 years so her boss decided to give her a year off. Today is her first day. The company I worked for just went bankrupt so I’m out here thinking about where to go from here. We were talking for quite some time, the sun is setting; she’s sitting on my knee at this point, when we hear a musical melody coming from her briefcase. She reaches in and pulls out this tiny cell phone. “Hello? No. All the files I was working on have been sent to Shirella as requested. She confirmed she received them yesterday. Yes. Yes. His lordships file has been sent directly to you. Encrypted. Encryption key and file are on separate flash drives in your safe as directed. Yes. Yes. Yes. I will. See you in a year. Bye.” “Sorry. Work.” She says with a sigh. “I understand. I take it Shirella isn’t the best at what she does?” I empathise. A very derisive “Ha! You have No Idea! Air head comes to mind. The only reason she got the job in the first is, well, Nymph. Says it all!” I can’t help but chuckle at that. Her reply to the chuckle, “What’s so funny?” “We all know someone like that. Happens in the human world all too often.” We end up talking long into the night. Our lives aren’t all that different after all. Richard Clarke

[one-card-to-rule-them-all]

I love you and you're doing amazing work. Just wondering, how much longer do you think the Lucifer round will run? Because I am very invested in this, but I'm also VERY sick of seeing that man's face (sorry to the Luci lovers, but I'm not one if them)

Thank you I love you too for the appreciation of my work it's a bit time-consuming but I get to catch up on some series while doing it.

I'm sorry it's kinda dragging on for so long but there are a lot of polls-1596 total. It is different from your typical tournament because it's not only everyone vs. everyone but also there are so many "participants"

I'll soon increase the daily amount of polls up to the maximum (50). I could technically use the version of queue from labs and put more than 200 a day but that's a bit overkill and I don't want to be annoying by spamming the tag that much but I still want the polls to be visible to people who aren't following this blog. And from my experience with tournaments I assumed, and was kinda right, people won't likely reblog it, especially with this kind of thing.

and when I was calculating it, with 50 posts per day it should go for around a month then we're moving to Mammon unless you guys will scream at me you want another brother to be next then I'm willing to give the audience what they want

so I'm very sorry to everyone who isn't a Luci lover, he isn't in my top 3 either, but you'll have to bear with him for a bit more.

I'll try to work faster so this and the next rounds won't take so long and maybe run smoother.

anyway, sorry for the long answer but I wanted to explain all the stuff

[xieyouji-xiegushi]

Just What I Needed (Chapter 3)

Cross-posting my fics while AO3 is down! This is a multi-chapter fic; please check out the contents page for additional tags, overall CWs and other chapters before reading!

Title: Just What I Needed (Chapter 3)

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: E

Ship: Destiel

Chapter 3 CWs: none

Summary: All Sam and Dean have to their names right now is $200, a '67 Chevy Impala, and a lead.

Dean dropped Sam off outside the library. Sam waved, wishing him a good date and reminding him to be careful. Dean was relaxed. He’d managed to wash his hair under a standpipe at the gas station earlier, and he had one of his last clean shirts on. He knew he didn’t exactly look his best, but at least Castiel probably wouldn’t be able to guess that he was effectively homeless.

He parked two blocks away from the Cheesecake Factory at precisely 6.45, giving him enough time to walk the rest of the way. He didn’t like to park right outside in case his jilted date tried to follow him. It wouldn’t do to have some angry guy memorising his plates. He walked briskly, not because he was cold, but actually a little excited. He tried to contain himself, but it was a long time since he’d been on anything that had even the semblance of a real date. He might have been out here scamming older guys for food, but they were out to get something for themselves too. He just didn’t usually give it to them.

Reminding himself that, no matter how pleasant the target, this was still just a scam, Dean hurried inside. Castiel was waiting just inside of the door. He smiled when he saw Dean.

“Aaron, I presume?”

“That’s me. Shall we grab a table?”

“Yes, we should.”

After they were situated, with two glasses of water and their food on the way, Castiel decided it was time to start the conversation.

“I hope this is okay. The restaurant, I mean. I never feel comfortable at expensive places.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I get that.” Dean did get it. He was all about quantity over quality, especially recently.

“Good,” Castiel responded, before falling silent. Dean waited for a couple of minutes, but there was no follow-up. Odd. Maybe Castiel was nervous. Okay, Dean could work with that.

“So, uh, do you come here often?”

Dean kicked himself internally. Why was that the thing that came out of his mouth? If he’d had a brain, he’d be dangerous.

“No, I do not frequent the Cheesecake Factory. I mainly eat at home,” Castiel answered the question, apparently taking it at face value. He looked down at his drink. More silence. Dean began to feel a bit awkward. The conversation just wasn’t flowing the way it had seemed to earlier. It was… weird.

“Hey, uh, are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Sorry. My people skills are… rusty. I mainly talk to computers. I haven’t been on a proper date since… well, I can’t remember, actually. I’ve forgotten what to do.”

Dean laughed gently. That made two of them.

“Well, you were pretty conversational earlier. Just stick with that.”

“Oh. That. Texting is easier than face to face interactions. And the questions thing – I, uh, saw that on stackexchange. I’m nowhere near that smooth in real life.”

Well, that made sense. Dean felt just the smallest twinge of disappointment, but he shelved it. If the date was bad, he wouldn’t feel guilty for cutting out early.

“I think, this is the part where I ask you to tell me about yourself, is it not?” Castiel continued. “How long have you been in town?”

“Just a few days. You’re local?”

“Yep, born and bred. You here for long?”

“Not sure yet. Probably not. We move around a lot.”

“We?”

Damn. Dean usually went out of his way to avoid giving any personal information to his dates. Castiel was more observant than he was used to. Most of the guys he went out with just wanted to talk about themselves. Oh well, he supposed he could give a few details, as long as they weren’t identifying.

“Yeah, I’m with my family. My Dad, and my kid brother.”

“Your dad? How old did you say you were again?”

“I didn’t, but I’m 24.” Dean lied. Really, he was 20, but a lot of guys were put off by that, and the ones that weren’t tended to be trouble. “Family business. I help out and take care of Sammy.”

“That sounds pleasant. I haven’t seen my brothers for a long time. They’re not… the best people.”

Oh. Okay. Awkward, and a little oversharing. Castiel wasn’t really what Dean had expected, but, somehow, he found that he didn’t mind. It was honestly just nice to meet someone who liked to listen as much as talk.

“Sorry to hear that, man. Having a brother… it’s awesome. Sammy’s the greatest kid. Does good in school, everyone likes him, you know. Never gets in trouble. Give him some apple pie and he’s happy as Larry.”

Dean lit up when he was talking about Sam, and Castiel noticed, smiling at him softly. It was a kind smile. It made Dean feel warm. Not many people looked at him like that these days.

“What’s the family business?”

“Oh, you know. Contracting. Short jobs, different cities, that sort of thing. We mostly live on the road.”

“Sounds interesting. Tiring, I imagine, but it must feel… freeing.” If Castiel had noticed how Dean had deflected the question, he didn’t comment. “I’m chained to a desk most days, I’m afraid. Not a very exciting life.”

“Well, thank god you met me,” Dean quipped, before his curiosity got the better of him. “Actually, if this is your first date in a while… why did you ask me out?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t even opened Grindr in, oh, must’ve been months. Today I just decided to check it out, see what’s out there, and there you were, right at the top. I didn’t know you’d just come into town. But it seems, I don’t know, serendipitous.”

As he said this, Castiel met Dean’s eyes, and held his gaze for the longest they had managed so far. Dean could tell that he was completely sincere. He almost found himself agreeing. Castiel’s eyes were truly striking. Dean felt like he was at risk of answering any question Castiel asked as long as he was looking into his eyes.

Their food arrived, and Castiel got to work on his quickly, with Dean taking it considerably slower. The conversation was moving more naturally now. They talked about Castiel’s job, which sounded just as boring as he claimed it was, their hobbies (Dean left several off the list), music, and a bit more about their families. Dean was careful not to give anything else away. Castiel didn’t go into much detail about his, either. What he did say made it sound pretty complicated. Dean could relate. Neither of them pried beyond what they were willing to share.

Dean almost jumped out of his chair when he felt his phone ring. He quickly checked his watch – how was it 8.30 already? He hadn’t been looking at the time at all. He supposed he had just been enjoying Castiel’s company.

“Sorry, I gotta take this.”

“No problem.”

Dean walked away from the table and answered the phone.

“Hi, Sammy.”

“Ready to go?”

Dean hesitated, glancing back at Castiel, who was still sitting at the table. God, he was good-looking. A tiny part of him wanted to stay.

“Dean? Come on, I’m hungry.”

“Right, right. Sorry. I’ll be right there.”

He hung up and returned to the table. No need for a fake frown; he actually felt bad about leaving. Castiel clearly didn’t go out much. Dean felt like he was wasting a rare opportunity for him.

“Castiel, I’m so sorry. I have to go. My Dad has to go to work, so I gotta go home and take care of Sammy. Sorry, I was supposed to have the night free.”

Castiel was silent for a few seconds, before turning his face towards Dean with an understanding expression.

“It’s okay. Here, let’s get your food packed up.” He motioned for a waiter to come to the table. “Could we get this food to go? And add an apple pie to that, and the bill, please.”

“Apple pie?”

“Sammy’s favourite, right?”

Dean was taken aback. Now he felt really guilty.

“Hey, Aaron, I had a great time tonight. Could I get your number?”

“What? Oh, right, of course.”

Dean had been asked this after a date before of course. This time, though, he gave Castiel his real number. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket as Castiel drop-called him.

“There, now you’ve got mine. Ah, and just in time,” he said, as the waiter returned with the food. He handed the bags to Dean, who accepted them gratefully. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“Uh, sure. Thanks, Castiel. Be seeing you.”

“I hope so.”

Dean turned and half-ran out of the restaurant. Castiel would hopefully assume it was because he was rushing home, but really Dean just didn’t know how to respond. When he got back to the car, he pulled out his phone and saved Castiel’s number, grinning stupidly. Yeah, he was totally smitten.

He got back to the library at 8.55. Sam was waiting.

“You’re late.”

“Five minutes! And I got you pie.”

“What? How did you manage that?”

“The guy. He ordered it.”

Sam gave him a sidelong look. “And? How was it?”

“It was nice. He was nice.”

“That’s good. Shame you’re not gonna see him again.”

Dean felt a slight pang of sadness. “Right. Yeah. I’m not into second dates, anyway.”

There was a faint buzzing sound, which Dean realised had come from his phone. He opened it to check the notification. Grindr. He opened it, just to see what it was.

hi

u into older

?

________________

Well, it was a bit soon after his last date, but maybe Dean could book in dinner for later in the week. It would give him one less thing to worry about.

i’m open

________________

Good start. Not shutting it down, but not looking like he was into it either. Dean had discovered that if he came on too strong, they didn’t feel as inclined to spend money on him.

u avail?

[location]

here

now

________________

Yikes.

buy a guy dinner first?

i’m free tomorrow

________________

no dinner

1 hr

p2p

200

u come or not?

________________

Dean wracked his brain. What was ‘p2p’, again? Drugs? No, drugs was ‘pnp’, or sometimes ‘pArty’. No, ‘p2p’ was… oh, right. Pay to play. 200. That must’ve meant $200. Damn.

Dean was under no illusion exactly what he would be doing for that $200. To be honest, he’d considered it before, sometime after they got down to their last $500. He just hadn’t really known how to actually, you know, find a job.

pics?

________________

[image]

[image]

[image]

________________

Well, one out of those three was not exclusively a dick pic. The guy was definitely older than Dean, but still only looked to be about early 50s. He wasn’t stunningly attractive or anything, but not bad. Dean made up his mind.

ok

just got off work

can I shower at your place?

________________

sure

________________

be right there

________________

Dean looked over at Sam, who was working on his food.

“Hey, Sammy. I’ve gotta go, uh, take care of something. I’m gonna bring the car, so you just lock yourself in, alright? It won’t take long.”

“Where are you going? Hunting? Can I come?”

“No, and no. It’s just… a thing. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Okay, sure. Just be careful, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

Dean sped across town and parked two streets away from the location. He grabbed his phone, leaving the car keys with Sam. He reached the house and rang the doorbell, hopping nervously from one foot to the other. The man opened the door and looked him up and down.

“Hi. Come in.”

“Thanks.” Dean ducked inside, heading straight to the bathroom. In his haste, he missed the text that came through to his phone.

Hey, Aaron. Did you make it home okay?

- Castiel: 21.20

[20dollarlolita]

EDIT I just reread everything I wrote and I'm so sorry that this is so long. I'm just going to write a summary here: Most beginning sew-ers are going to be looking at three kinds of machines: used, mechanical, and entry-computerized. The difficult part of buying a used machine is finding one that is going to do what you want, and not break on you. If you're looking at a new mechanical machine, you want it to be fully adjustable. Entry computer machines are easier to use and last longer than entry mechanical machines. No matter what, buy a machine with a metal internal frame. Buying a brand new modern Singer machine is a fast way to guarantee that you're getting the worst value for your money.

I got tagged onto this post twice, so I'm chiming in. (Did I come into work half an hour early to take pictures? The world will never know). Number one rule: The best machine is a machine that allows you to sew the things that you want without getting frustrated. This can mean machine mechanics, but it can also include the frustration of not being able to sew while you save up for a fancy one, or the frustration of feeling like you spent too much on a machine when you don't use all of the parts of it. Keep that in mind.

Okay a very long post is under the cut.

First of all, when I'm sewing at home, I usually do use older machines for most of my sewing. While my personal sewing machine collection has over 30 machines, my main machines that I regularly sew on are a 80's Singer (2424, I think?), a Pfaff Tipmatic 6122, and a Bernina 1031. I sew on these more than I sew on my expensive embroidery/sewing combo machine. When I picked these as my used machines to keep on hand, it was because they were in very good condition and had a lot of their accessories. I see a lot of old machines that get sent to the trash, and most of them are not worth rescuing. I don't bother with machines that feel gunky, are in any way frozen, that I know were stored in hot environments, that are too dirty (if it's dirty outside then it's dirty inside), that are missing critical components (power cord, foot control, presser foot and ankle, bobbin case/hook/retaining collar), that have any tires/belts that I can sink my fingernail into, or that just don't feel really good to use. At my store, when there's a machine that's surrendered by a customer, employees are allowed to buy the surrendered machine for $20, so those are my requirements for a machine that will cost me $20. If I'm spending more than $50, in addition to all of that, I want the machine to run incredibly well, to have all its parts, and to have a design that's notably good. If we're spending more than that, I also want it to be additionally desirable in some way. I'll spend $100 on Sewing Pretty with Hello Kitty without a question, and probably spend $1000 on a Bernina 1008 with all its bits, but I'm not going to spend any money on an all-metal Kenmore that turns sluggish and has no accessories. Also, some machines age just fine and some age like milk. A Singer Featherweight that hasn't gone through some horrible trauma is pretty much infinitely fixable. A Singer Touch'n'Sew is likely to transform itself into a Singer Touchy and Doesn't Actually Sew. Nearly every Touch and Sew brought into my store is considered unable to be repaired. Those Vikings with the red front and all the rainbow colors are blacklisted by our service department because they're ALL messed up and there's no fixing them. Summary: f you're buying a used machine, get proof that it sews well, and doesn't need anything to fix it up. Don't spend too much money on it. There are really good deals out there on quality machines, and you just need to keep looking. If you're new to sewing and you're not sure what "feels really good" should feel like, just think about the phrase "like a well-oiled machine." Things should all move freely without you struggling. If it "just needs a good service," budget that costing like $200. You might find it for less than that, but it's a good price to budget for.

New Machines

Price: The cheapest machine in my store is $170. The most expensive machine in my store is $24,284. You can spend as much money as you want on a new sewing machine.

The things that I instantly avoid: Anything that says Singer and is from post-1995. ALL of it. Singer went through Some Shit in the 90's and then went bellyup in the mid 00's. Another company bought the name and uses it on their budget machines. I used to directly work for the company that owns the Singer name and I saw so many overpriced machines with strange problems that I've never seen in any other brand. We had models that we were required to stock and that we'd still refuse to sell, because the complaints we got with those models were not worth the income of selling them. Sorry to anyone who has a modern Singer machine. You're allowed to love it and sew with it, but if you're buying it new you're absolutely getting the lowest quality for your money. The store I now work in does not sell Singer at all, because we haven't found any Singer machines that we can stand behind the quality of for 6 years.

And the other thing I avoid is budget entry machines that have no internal metal frame. This picture above looks like the insides of most sewing machines that I sell. While they are plastic on the outside, they are actually still metal on the inside. You can take the outsides off and the insides are a separate piece bolted onto an internal frame. The outer shell is plastic, and that actually protects the inside from damage and shock. When there's force applied to the inside parts, like when the machine jams really hard, it applies that force to the metal frame in the machine.

This Brother machine is in my store specifically to explain to people how to not make a machine. This is a $99 computerized Brother machine, and this specific one broke because it jammed really hard. As you might notice, there is no separate frame inside this. There are components and circuit boards that are bolted into a plastic housing. When a big force is applied to the machine, the plastic can flex, and parts can come out of align. Once they're out of alignment, they often aren't going back in.

You can usually tell if a machine is frameless inside by how much it weighs. Expect a entry-level machine to weigh at least 12-14lbs. Lighter than that, and there's nothing but plastic holding it together.

You can also check the warranty on the machines. All the machines that my store sells have partial warranties on some components for 5-6 years. 1 year on parts, 5 on motors and electronics, is a pretty common warranty. If the vendor will only offer a 3-month to 1-year warranty, and then that's it, expect that machine to last you 3 months to one year. If they won't warranty any part of it for a year, there's a REASON for that.

If at all possible, I recommend shopping at a place with a showroom that will let you test the machines out. I don't just say this because this sales model allows me to stay employed. When you sit down at a machine and get to sew on it, you'll be better able to tell what does and doesn't feel good for you. In addition, if you don't like your machine, or can't use it properly, your salesperson has to deal with your problems for you. In addition to you having resources for help with your problems, salespeople will work to sell you machines that won't cause you problems. If there's no in-person shop around, try buying off a small business' website. Being able to email or call and easily talk to a real human requires the sellers to be more accountable to your problems and needs. (If you need help picking which small business' website you should buy from, DM me, because I do have a personal favorite small sewing machine business)

Category 1) Mechanical machines. The technology of mechanical machines really hasn't changed very much since like 1960. For these, you have separate knobs or dials for stitch length, stitch width, and stitch pattern selection. There's no electronics in there.

A couple of things to note: 1) not every mechanical machine out there is going to have independent control of length and width. Some will have preset stitches without adjustments. I really recommend buying a mechanical machine with minimum 3 dials (pattern, length, width). 2) a LOT of mechanical machines are mechanical because that allows them to be less expensive. There's a difference between mechanical machines that are mechanical to be cheap, and mechanical machines that are mechanical because some brand recognizes that no matter how good computerized machines are, Meemaw is not going to sew on a machine with a robot in it. Currently (2024) it's about $350 for my favorite budget mechanical machine (Baby Lock Zeal/Baby Lock Molly--same machine) and more like $500-$600 for a mechanical machine designed for Meemaws who don't want a robot.

Category 2) Entry/Basic computerized machines. You're looking for an all-metal frame, an LCD, 30-80 stitches, and about the same size as your average entry mechanical. You're probably looking at $350-$700 for a lot of these, though there are outliers. There's two main advantages of computerized over mechanical. The first is the number of default automated elements. A computerized machine is going to be able to bring your needle to the top after your stitches (which will stop it from unthreading your needle on your first stitch) and when you select a stitch pattern the machine will automatically set length and width. You usually also get a speed limiting switch. The other advantage is that a basic computerized machine has fewer parts inside to break. (People don't like when I say this but it's truth). Each stitch in a mechanical machine is going to have a plastic cam in the internal parts, and that cam controls the stitch pattern and the feed movement. In addition, all of the cams are stuck together, so if a cam in the middle of the stack develops a crack, the whole stack has to be replaced. The cams are read by a finger that the cams push against, and that's another internal part that can get stuck. A basic computerized machine is controlled by two step motors, and those stepper motors control all the stitches. I've seen cam stack failures as often as I've seen main board failures (both of which were all on 10+ year old machines and all those machines had been poorly stored). However, on a new machine, the board is often warrantied for 5-6 times as long as the cam stack is. If your cam stack fails in your second year of owning it, you're buying a new stack or a new machine. If your board fails in the second year of ownership, the manufacturer buys you a new board.

For what it's worth, Bernina's machine that is at this level of features is $1200. Evey other brand is solidly under $800. Bernina is expensive.

If you are starting to feel overwhelmed, just stop here. There's SO many good mechanical and basic computerized machines that will last you a long time. My first computerized machine was bought in 2009 and still runs like new. 99% of people sewing successfully online are using basic machines, and never feel like they're missing anything. Most sewing patterns need a straight stitch and a zigzag stitch. You don't need to go bigger or fancier.

But since I'm at work and killing time, let's go into the more expensive machines.

We're now going up to mid-tier. This is where machines start getting larger (8-10" to the right of the needle) and a bit more specialized. You're starting to see features like auto presser foot lift, side motion feeds, computer controlled tensions. You're going to get full screens that show you stitches (often in full size). You get the absolutely fantastic feature that is auto thread cut. We love a good auto thread cut here. Generally this is where each brand also starts focusing on different things. Viking machines will have their Sewing Advisor, Berninas get their specialty foot system, Janomes start being shaped more like commercial machines. Bigger machine is easier to work on bulky projects. Most powerful motors, with electronic elements that detect and bust through rough spots, will make things easier, too. At this level, you're mostly trading money for convenience. Things get easier the more money you throw at them.

It's also worth noting that a lot of machines come with more features at this price point. If you want a 1/4" foot, a walking foot, and an extension table, sometimes it will come out cheaper to get a higher-level machine that comes with those stock, instead of buying them separate.

Entry embroidery combo. Think a low-to-mid sewing machine that you can stick a hoop on and do embroidery. Take how much the non-embroidery version of the machine costs and double it.

If you want to do embroidery then go for it. If you're not interested, I recommend against getting one "just to have the option". In my experience most people who aren't already interested in embroidery don't end up using the option.

My favorite entry embroidery machine is the Bernette b79 and my least favorite are all the entry Pfaff and Viking ones. If I had money, I would send the Pfaff Creative 1.5, the Ambition 640, and the Viking Jade 35 to my enemies.

Top-tier sewing: $4000-$8000ish. These things have enough height and width to stick a small cow in the throat space and they do literally everything you could imagine a sewing machine to do.

If you want the embroidery combo variant on any of these, multiply the price by 1.75.

Top line: these usually don't come without an embroidery option. They can text you when they're sewing and have problems. They can talk to the cloud. They have cameras in them. They're $10,000 to $25,000. You can buy one of these, or you can just get two quality used cars.

Most people who buy one of these come in later and get a smaller machine because they're tired of their only machine weighing over 60bls.

If you're buying one of these, if you start using the phrase "I like this, but I wish it came with____" will get you free stuff. Like I'll give you literally anything if you want to buy one of these. I once gave someone a free second sewing machine because she was buying a top-of-line machine.

I would literally never take one of these home to be in my house. My sewing machine does not need a camera. It does not need to text me. That sounds less like a sewing machine and more like a 4-year-old who stole their mom's phone. My job is to think that these aren't stupid and I'm very bad at that part of my job.

At this price point, it's usually cheaper to just buy two different machines that combined have a similar feature set.

Bonus category: Specialty machines. These aren't intended to be your main sewing machine. We're talking sergers, the Baby Lock Jazz (do not buy this machine), high-speed straight stitch only machines, and weirdos like the Baby Lock Sashiko that makes stitches that look hand-sewn. Ask your salesperson, "do you know anyone who has this as their only machine?" If they don't know anyone who does, you shouldn't make it your only machine.

Do you have opinions on sewing machines? I ask because my family is trying to get into making our own clothes and I'm at a loss on how to even start researching and thought you might have opinions.

I'm partial to the old cast iron Singers. I grew up using a 15-91, and when I moved out I got a 99k. Both are electric and have the ability to backstitch, and they only do a straight stitch but have a bunch of feet and attachments, including a buttonholer.

It depends on what you want though, if you think you'll be needing zig zag stitch then a newer machine would be better, but you can still get solid metal ones that are decades old and have some different stitch options. I think most of the fancy stitches on those machines never get used though, you can probably get along fine with just straight stitch.

I have practically no experience with modern domestic machines, and I know a lot of them can do fancy stuff, but I don't like how plastic-y they are. I'm sure there are some that are good, I just don't know which ones they are, and I'm sure someone who does use modern machines will have suggestions! I just personally don't like the vibes of working on a plastic machine. It doesn't do the satisfying thunking and clunking of a nice old metal one, you know?

There are lots and lots of secondhand ones that can be found pretty cheap, though they might need some servicing. I bought mine off kijiji from a guy who refurbishes them, but have seen a lot of machines at thrift stores, estate sales, etc.

[dickwheelie]

sooooooo I wrote a sequel to that love entities jmart post that got pretty popular. all you really need to know is that post mag 200 jon becomes a local cryptid and listens to people's stories about encounters with the entities to help unburden them of some of their fear. please enjoy!

_____________

Just inside the entryway of Old Fishmarket Close, hidden just out of sight of the street, there stands a shrine. It is not an old shrine of weathered stone, nor is it carefully crafted with intricate religious symbols, nor is it static, weighed down by years of collected dust. It is in many ways a living shrine; flowers bloom and wilt at its feet, while above it, against the wall of the Close, piles of paper, photographs, and keepsakes are haphazardly stacked and stuck. The shrine seems to breathe as each day passes, as innumerable and unsung hands replace its flowers and let their offerings crawl up its wall like vines.

The shrine is not marked, but everyone who looks for it, in the shadows of the entryway, knows precisely who it is for.

You arrive that day with only a piece of notebook paper in your hand. Upon it is written a short message, and not an uncommon one to see at the shrine: Thank You. A substitute, of sorts, for the flowers and other gifts that people often leave. You, like many others, are not well off, and you hope that a small note can make up for your lack of material offerings.

As you approach the shrine, a gust of wind whistles through the alleyway and rustles the pages plastered across the length of the wall. You’ve brought no adhesive, so you slip the piece of paper partially beneath a bouquet lying on the stone walkway. It’s relatively fresh, so you hope it won’t be moved anytime soon. You’ve no idea who replaces the flowers, but you suspect it’s never the same person twice. The locals all know about the shrine and the person it’s meant for, and they’ve grown protective of them both.

Dozens of other people have had the same idea before you; the ground is littered with short notes of gratitude. Thank you for listening, says one, transcribed in loving calligraphy, the i’s dotted with hearts. Thank You For Finding Me, Whoever You Are, says another. I rely lik yor hat, says one written in crayon. Another says, You’ll probably never read this, but thank you for hearing my story. There must be hundreds of them, and there are more each time you visit.

You had spent the better part of the morning trying to come up with something more eloquent to write, but you’ve never been great with words. Telling the mysterious person your story had been the only time you’d ever felt as though your words matched your thoughts, that what came out of your mouth was exactly how you felt, and that the person you were talking to understood you fully.

You suppose a thank you is better than nothing, and after one last fond look at the shrine, you turn to go.

A footstep that is not your own echoes down the alleyway. You turn, half-alarmed, but relax at once when you see who it is.

You have only ever seen him once before, about a month ago when you told him your story, but he is difficult to forget; his figure tall and thin, his posture horrendous, his features hidden entirely by a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat. He stands now at the far end of the alleyway, hands clutched before his hunched torso, giving you the distinct impression he’s staring directly at you.

“Um, hello,” you say, haltingly. You’re not quite sure how to address him, but you figure a polite greeting is universal. You gesture at the shrine. “I don’t have, uh, another story or anything. I was just leaving a note for you.”

His hat tips curiously to the side, and he shuffles forward with his cautious gait, peering closer at the shrine. The dark brim of his hat swivels towards you, as though asking a question.

“The shrine,” you say. “I just left a short note. It’s no big thing, I just—I wanted to leave something.”

The words seem to mean nothing to him. He looks at the shrine, then at you, then back at the shrine. He steps a bit closer to it, and reaches out a long-fingered, gloved hand to touch the petals from a bouquet of daffodils. After the briefest of moments, he pulls away again, hands resuming their wringing.

A thought occurs to you. “Do you . . . do you not know what this is?”

He shakes the hat once.

“This is . . . this is for you,” you say, spreading your arms to encompass the garden on the ground and the sea of pages above. “The flowers, the little trinkets, the thank-you letters—it’s for you. From . . . from all of us, who’ve told you our stories. You’ve helped us so much, we wanted to let you know how much we appreciated it. How grateful we are.”

He doesn’t react, and so you reach out and pick out a card, one that says, Talking to you about how scared I was of the dark made me less afraid of it. I sleep better at night because of what you did for me. Thank you, mysterious stranger. Much love, E.M.

“Here,” you say, handing it to him, and he takes it with a shaky glove. The brim of his hat lowers as he reads. "That’s just one of them. There are loads more just like that.” You survey the pile and pick out another. “This one’s from a kid, thanking you for helping their mom . . . And this one’s just a simple thank you note but they did cover it in glitter glue, so, there’s that . . . And this person wanted you to know that their anxiety improved after talking to you . . .”

He takes note after note from you, reading them all, silent and unexpressive as always, but there’s something in his posture that is unbearably human. Somehow it reminds you of how people stand when they hold a baby chick in their hands.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” you say, not unkindly. You’re both sitting on the ground now, amidst the bouquets and piles of thank-yous. “Who else would this all be for?”

As he picks up yet another note, a tremor runs through his body. He raises a gloved hand to the shadows beneath the hat, and you watch as two drops of water stain the page in his hand. His chest convulses as more tears fall, his hand moving under the hat to wipe them away, but they keep coming. Still he makes no sound.

You didn’t know he could cry. You don’t know why you’re surprised; he’s strange, certainly, and perhaps not entirely human . . . but he has heard so many horrible things, and human or not, he deserves a chance to cry.

“Are you—are you okay?” you say, not sure what to do.

The hat nods once, and then shakes.

“I . . . I know it’s probably a lot, all at once,” you say, and you reach out to touch his arm. The movement comes naturally, without much thought; you would have done the same for a friend.

He flinches at your touch, and you immediately pull away, but then he relaxes again, and nods. Tears are still falling from the shadows down onto his coat.

You touch his arm again, gently, and he doesn’t move away. “I’m sorry if it’s overwhelming. But we really are grateful, and you have a bad habit of not accepting thanks. This was one of the only ways we could think to . . . to show you.” You take a deep breath, and gaze into the shadows of where his face might be, doing your best to look him in the eye. “We don’t really know who you are, or why you came here, or why you choose to listen to us. But somehow, we know you mean well. I think everyone who’s told their story knows that, me included. That you’re trying to help us, that you want to do good. And you do. We . . . we want you to know that you’ve done good.”

His chest rises and falls shakily, and though he still makes no sound you swear you can hear a sob. He reaches out and grasps your arm in turn, and suddenly you realize what he needs.

“Can I give you a hug?” you ask.

The hat nods, again and again, and you open your arms, and he falls forward. You would have done the same for a friend.

You almost expect the hug to be gentle, but it is not; it is tight and desperate, and feels so human you do not think twice about hugging him back just as tightly. He is not terribly warm, but you can feel a heart beating beneath his coat. A few tears fall on the back of your jacket. You know that if you just looked up, you would be able to see his face beneath the hat, but you keep your eyes shut tight.

When you move apart, a few moments later, he seems a little more composed, and no more tears fall from beneath the hat. He straightens his back a bit, growing taller even in a sitting position, and you can see just the barest hint of a mouth, which is smiling a delicate, wobbly sort of smile. He brings a gloved hand up to his chin, placing his fingertips against it, and moves them towards you, once, twice.

You are by no means fluent in sign language, but you recognize the sign for Thank you when you see it.

You smile back at him. “You’re welcome,” you say.

He looks back at the shrine, at the piles and piles of notes he has yet to read. You watch as he picks up a handful more, seemingly at random, shuffling them in his hands and pressing them close to his chest. After a pause, he reaches out and slowly picks up one of the bouquets, overflowing with small blue flowers. You’re not entirely sure, but you think they might be forget-me-nots. He pulls a single flower from the bunch and tucks it, carefully, into the collar of his coat, as though for safekeeping.

He nods once, satisfactorily, and stands slowly, giving a small bow in your direction before he turns and shuffles back down the alleyway, the bushel of blue flowers peeking over his shoulder, rustling in the breeze.

Just before he is swallowed by the shadows at the far end of the Close, you call out, “Thank you! Again. For . . . for everything.”

It’s certainly just a trick of the light, but when he turns back to look at you, just before the shadows overtake him, you swear you can see the light catch on a single, twinkling eye, crinkled in one corner by what must be a smile.

[monaisdark]

AHHHH! I loved your virgin shiggy post, I was wondering if you could make a part two with reader giving shigaraki a tit-fuck in an empty classroom, with degradation kink, and exhibition kink! I'm sorry if this too horny - Anon ♥♥

haha.. im back i guess. Its been a couple weeks but i have some time to start writing again :)) checking my inbox, i did NOT expect this many people wanting a pt2 to my virgin shiggy post. prolly my fault for holding it off for so long :/ so i made it longer than i planned but count this a thanks for 200+ followers!! <3 anyways i really need to catch up on my inbox but expect more from me !!

➨ paring — Virgin! (not anymore) Tomura Shigaraki x Fem! Bully! Reader

➨ warnings — Sub! Shigaraki, Dom! Reader, mommy kink, slight masturbation, humiliation, degradation, begging, exhibition, tit-fucking, hand-job, cum denial

PART 1

Shigaraki messed up. It’s been a week. A week since you cornered him in a room and took his virginity.

He still remembers what you told him when you left— “Take a shower tomorrow. Also wear a different top for god’s sake. If you do... I might let you touch me.” 

Shigaraki beat himself over for agreeing to it as soon as he got home. You were his bully. One of the people making his school experience even more unbearable than it already was.

Yet he completely was undone as soon as you placed your hands on him, and you knew it. He just didn’t know what you wanted.

Dick? No, you were pretty and popular— you could probably get some from more desirable guys. To bully him? Sure, you said mean things to him during the encounter but the bullying was always around your friends.

For a whole school week, he stayed home. Making up some bullshit to the school that he had the flu. Frankly, he was scared to go. How was he supposed to face you?

Did you tell anyone? Secretly record it? Was he currently the laughing stock of the entire school for begging to continue to fuck you?

But even away from school, you had an effect on him. He’s still a horny guy. Now, jerking off wasn’t the same anymore, not when he had some taste of pussy thanks to you.

Shigaraki would always end up thinking back to you, even with porn he couldn’t get you out of his head. His hands clamping around his cock weren’t the same as your pussy, same with the bodies of other women.

He found himself indulging into mommy kink porn, something he didn’t really get off from before you. Shigaraki pretend it was you talking to him, bouncing onto his lap and letting him touch you.

But after a bit— Shigaraki found it going no where, they weren’t you.

Cursing, he would always finish early. And not in a good way. In a way where he was left unsatisfied. Putting his painfully hard cock back into his sweats and trying to sleep his horny-ness away.

Shigaraki realized he needed you, you talking to him, you around his cock. Now, he regretted not sticking to his word. But he’ll make it up for you.

You were quite mad. Shigaraki hasn’t been to school since that day. How ungrateful, you literally let him put his dick in you and now he ghosts you in real life.

You fully expected him to be at school the next day with the way he begged you to stay, clean and ready for you. So imagine your annoyance in seeing him not show up for several days.

But today was different, the newly ex-virgin actually showed up. To your surprise, he still did more than you expected him to do despite being a week late.

Shigaraki had changed his hoodie to a whole new one, it looked recently bought. As well as his hair, looking more soft than greasy like it typically was. Though he didn’t style it, it still overhanging on his face.

Still, he definitely looked a lot better, not enough for others to notice but enough for you to smirk at your work.

Both of you didn’t interact with each other besides a few glances until lunch. You guys sat on completely different ends of the cafeteria, him sitting in a small corner table while you sat in a large one.

Shigaraki looked fidgety, meekly looking up every few minutes to watch you interact with your friends. He was waiting for school to end, planning to catch you at the same empty classroom you took his virginity in.

Though you had completely other plans.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” You got up from your table, grabbing your bag from off the floor. “To?” One of your friends asked, not looking up from their phone.

“Some nerd, he’s gonna do my homework we got last period. Apparently, his parents found out he’s been doing our homework and now he's gotta do them during lunch. Gotta make sure they do it right.” You lied through your teeth, hoping they would just back off.

They didn’t look up, instead pulling their homework worksheet out of their binder with one hand, putting it in yours, “Get him to do mine.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the paper, “Yeah.” You walked away, crumbling the paper to throw it in the trash. You’ll just say you lost it. Not like they’ll do anything about it.

Narrowed eyes landed on Shigaraki, his eyes currently focused on his phone. You strudded your way to him, smirking to yourself.

Shigaraki almost jumped when he felt something brush against his leg. Looking up, he was met with you sitting down next to him.

“Hey.” You said, placing your bag on the table and putting your last period’s homework on the table.

“You’re good at chemistry, right?” You questioned, shifting through your bag for something to write with.

“...Well— I... um...—“ Shigaraki stuttered, unsure of what was currently going on.

“Great.” You pulled the phone out of his clammy hands, replacing it with a pencil. “...What?” He tilted his head, was this a joke? Did you completely forget about a week ago?

“Hm...? Well, get onto it.” You uttered him on, putting your chin in your hands, eyeing him. Reluctantly, he looked back to paper, beginning to work on it.

After around 5 minutes, you brushed against him even more, getting close to his side. “What does that say?” You pushed yourself further into his side, your chest touching his arms.

Shigaraki cursed himself for already becoming red, he pants tightening around his crotch as last week flashed into his head again.

“Um... m-mole is a unit of measur— Hmph!“ He held back a loud whine when your right hand traveled to his crotch.

“What— what are you doing?” He asked under his breath, holding back small whimpers as you palmed him, “Where have you been?” You questioned sternly, upset he kept you waiting.

“I’m sorry... I got sick.” He bluffed, it was too embarrassing to admit he was scared. With how he left you hanging, he expected people to be laughing at him the moment he stepped onto school grounds.

“Sick? A whole week?” You hummed, you could already tell he was lying. Still, you were proud that he even bothered to make it up to you by fixing himself up.

“With your diet of energy drinks and chips, I’m surprised you’re not dead.” You decided to let it go, he was just nervous to show up.

Yet you think he deserves a bit of punishment.

Shigaraki felt heavy as you teased the zipper of his jeans. He immediately tensed, “Wait— now..?” He saw you narrow your eyes, “Something wrong?”

“There’s people here!” He whispered yelled, flinching as he felt you unzip his jeans ever so slowly, trailing your finger along his exposed boxers.

“So? You’re just some loser in the corner, nobody will notice if you aren’t obvious.”

Shigaraki could already feel pre-cum form at his tip, staining his boxers a bit. You giggled a bit, feeling the dampness of his boxers. “Already?” Shigaraki shook his head, “I... I haven’t came since... that day.”

You laughed a bit louder than you expected to, good thing the cafeteria was already loud. “How sweet of you. Couldn’t get it on?”

Shigaraki focused his eyes on your paper, muffled moans caught at the back of his throat as you freed his cock from his boxers.

Now slowly pumping him, Shigaraki dropped the pen of the table. He wanted to do something with his hands, to touch you.

He moved his hand to your thigh, but of course, you didn’t allow him, “You’re too eager. Get back to work.” You ordered. Shigaraki was about to question you but you stopped him with stroking his cock faster.

Both of you continued this way for a bit, him answering questions with his shaky hands while you jerked him off.

Shigaraki could’ve sworn he felt eyes on him a couple of times, yet every time he looked up, nobody was even batting an eye in his direction.

He could feel his cock twitch at the excitement of being caught. How would they explain one of the most popular girls giving an outcast a hand-job under the table?

As he got to the last question— he was already drooling on the paper, mouth clenched shut to avoid moaning and panting to be let out.

You could tell he was about to cum, the writing on the paper progressively getting sloppier as time went on. “M-mommy...” Shigaraki whispered just enough for you to hear, “Hmm, you want to cum?”

He nodded furiously, he was extremely pent up and needed release. And just as he thought, you were the only one who can give it to him.

Shigaraki whimpered when you pulled away, looking up at the clock and collecting your stuff. “Then after school, room 204. Actually listen and show up when I tell you this time.”

You walked away just in time for the bell to go off, signifying that lunch was over. Leaving Shigaraki, once again, a mess.

Here he was again, feeling nostalgic as you walked into the empty classroom. Shigaraki easily grew again while anticipating this, the tent prominent in his jeans.

“Y’know, good job for showering and changing.” You gave him praise, Shigaraki turning red from your words. “This... this means I can touch you, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I actually keep promises.” He ignored the jab at him, it didn’t matter how mean you were— he was going to touch you finally.

Shigaraki awkwardly shuffled towards you, raising his hands up to look at you with wide eyes. He slowly paced a hand on your boobs, trying to see if this was just some test and you’ll get mad at him.

When he didn’t get anything back, he immediately started to dough on your clothed breast, cupping them. Then, he moved to unbutton your shirt, already seeing you thought ahead and took off your bra before coming here.

He fully took off your shirt, not wasting time on latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, both hands playing with your breasts. Shigaraki was basically humping your leg, sucking your nipples like a baby.

You giggled a bit, patting his head. He looked up at you with a clouded look, pure joy in his eyes as he finally got to touch you.

Looking back down at him, another idea popped up— you already took his virginity and gave him his first hand-job, whats another one of his firsts? “Shigaraki, do you want to feel really good?” He unlatched from your nipple, “I can be inside you?”

“No.” He frowned a bit, but perked up when you trailed your fingers on his boxers. “What if I put this,” You pointed at your boobs, “In between these?”

Shigaraki was already down, eagerly sitting on a desk while you got on your knees. He freed his cock, putting it in between your slick pushed together breasts, thanks to his sucking earlier.

You wasted no time on stroking it up and down with your breasts. He moaned feeling the softness of the valley between your chest, your breasts around his cock giving him warmth as you stimulated him.

Shigaraki was definitely feeling great, you even let him bend down and grab your breasts to control the speed of the tit-job.

Though, Shigaraki wanted more. You were giving him all these things, a hand-job, a tit-fuck. He’s been inside you once and he didn’t get to do what he wanted in the first place. To cum inside his mommy.

He feels a knot grow in his lower abdomen, but he doesn’t wanna cum yet. Instead, he pulled himself away from you, much to your confusion.

“What? You literally were about to cum and I was gonna let you!” You groaned, getting up as Shigaraki faced you.

“...Mommy, can I fuck you?”

“No, you didn’t come to school for a whole week. If you really wanted to you would have showed up.”

Shigaraki turned red, sputtering as he held onto your arm, “Please! I just want you cum inside you.” He whined, tears pricking at the chance of not getting to have sex with you after all this time.

You looked at him stoned faced as he begged, even falling to his knees dramatically to add to his desperation. “Fucking virgins, man.”

Shigaraki felt himself be pushed down, your skirt and panties on the floor. You straddled onto his length, moans filling the room quickly.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, mommy!” Shigaraki thrusted his hips into yours, feeling even more over-joyed when he was allowed to touch your chest while you were on top of him this time.

Shigaraki desperately missed this, now he remembers why his hand didn’t compare to your tight pussy after trying to jerk off. He found his own rhythm quickly, muffled ‘mommy’s due to his mouth on your breasts.

“I’m doing this because you cleaned up, if you didn’t I would’ve left you to your own sad-ass devices already.” You lied, honestly, you hated the idea what he possibly was ignoring you by not showing up to school.

Even then, you’ve grown a bit found of him. His body, his expressions, his voice, everything really. It didn’t bother you as much when you saw his still messy hair, you were just glad to see him.

Though, you’d never admit it. Instead, it showed through the way you were tightening around his cock, panting as he moaned into and out your body. Shigaraki very quickly wrapped his arms around you, both of you on the edge.

“Fuck— Shigaraki. Cum, cum for mommy, okay?” You ordered, Shigaraki more than ready to fulfill it.

“Ah, thank you! Thank you, mommy! I’m gonna cum inside you!” Both of you rided out your highs, Shigaraki filling you so much it started to drip outside your full cunt.

He fell on top of you despite you initially being on top, you wanted to scold him but honestly couldn’t bring yourself to right now.

The room quieted down, the only words being exchanged were by Shigaraki softly muttering “Thank you, mommy.” into your neck

[imaginativeamateur]

Neji x Female Reader Fluff with prompt 13

[Neji Hyuuga X Reader] A Matter of Choice

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 13 — "I'll walk you home."

Pairing: Neji Hyuuga x fem!Reader

Note: Hey!! I'm back, thanks for your request and patience! Yesterday I raided my blog, I lost track of how many posts I posted but it was fun :DD Anyway, this one is a cousin to Neji's One-shot in the Period Cramps Series "One in the Morning". Enjoy reading!

You did not expect it to come at this moment. Your period.

You were training with Team Gai when your period decided to pay you a visit, and you were clueless about the matter. Gai already went back earlier because he was called to the Hokage office, which left the four of you back pacing around at the training ground. Lee was always on-point with his discipline and integrity, so was Neji. Tenten decided to take a break and you thought it was wise to accompany her. The two of you settled down under a big tree and pulled out your water bottles while chatting away.

“What’s going on lately?” You asked, “I was out on a mission for two weeks and it seems like I missed quite a lot of fun.”

The girl’s cheeks flushed a shade of pink. You indeed pushed the right button—there was something going on between Tenten and Rock Lee while you were away. It was not like you did not notice the romantic tension between the two, for Lee who was never a subtle person. But you wanted to hear it from your close girlfriend.

You chirped with a slight smirk, “Is silence a yes, then?”

The latter reluctantly nodded and looked down at her hands, now fiddling with the bottle in her lap. You knew it, you knew that this day would come. You had been pushing them together for the entirety of the past two years and they were finally with each other, nothing could describe the adrenaline and happiness you felt.

“So how long already?” You wiggled your brows energetically.

“Just yesterday,” Tenten shyly mumbled.

“Yesterday?” You gasped and she had to place a hand on your mouth when the two other lads looked in your way. You gulped understandingly and she lifted her palm off. You lowered your voice, “Did he ask you out yesterday? How did it go?”

Tenten started talking about her date with Lee. You just got back to Konoha yesterday night and immediately flopped onto your bed for a well-deserved sleep after your mission, hence, completely unaware of the escalation between your two friends. Just when she was about to get to the interesting part, a hand extended forward. It was Lee, “Don’t forget you promised me to go try out the newly-opened restaurant, Tenten!”

You ogled at them with glimmering eyes, dipping your head in full approval, “I guess I should be going back, too.”

But when you stood up from the grass, you felt odd. And soon enough, you knew what was wrong—your period gracefully arrived. You immediately clapped your hands behind your back in case there was a bloodstain, it was worse that you decided to put on a bottom of a brighter shade this morning. You did not want to interrupt Tenten and her blossoming love because of some ridiculous matter like this, so you waved them off with a grin, “Have fun!”

In the end, you were left with the Hyuuga, who was gathering the scattered Ninja tools into his worn pouch. Noticed that you were not moving at all, Neji looked at you with curiosity, “Aren’t you going home? You should rest more after returning from a mission, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m going to go back,” you stuttered but your feet were pinned to the ground. Embarrassed, you pointed your hand to the exit, “You can go first, I—ugh—I have something to take care of before I take my leave.”

But the typical Neji Hyuuga, who was able to see through you easily, offered, “Do you need my help? You look quite pale, is there a problem?”

He took a few steps forward and you instantly jolted, holding your arms in front as a mean to block his path, “No, no, I’m fine. Don’t come over!”

You unconsciously backed up and bumped against the tree, groaning when your head hit the stiff trunk. Now, Neji was certain that there was a problem. He did not bother to speak a word, and before you knew it, his frame was already shadowing yours. Your hands immediately went to your back, you were sitting earlier, there was definitely a stain. He searched for your eyes and you tried your best to appear composed, but failed miserably.

Neji released a long sigh before unbuckling the navy-grey apron of his bottom. You were horrified, “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” He blinked candidly and handed you the clothing item, “I’ll lend you this, do whatever you need to do.”

You awkwardly took the fabric in your hands, eyes glued to the green grass for the whole process. You wrapped it around your waist and Neji had to stifle a laugh when he glanced at you. He was taller than you, resulting in the bottom of the apron that usually met his knees draping all the way to your mid-calves. Not to mention, the waistline looked funny when you had to fold parts of it inward to make sure the apron would not fall off. Formerly flustered, your face was now covered with a shade of crimson, “What’s there to laugh at!”

Instantaneously, the Hyuuga stopped cackling, “Sorry, you just look so—um—cute.”

Realizing what he just said, Neji cleared his throat and changed the subject, “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to,” you objected. It was kind of him to give you his apron, you did not want to burden him any more than you already did.

“I want to.”

It would be a long way back...

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