#she should be allowed to wear clothes that she actually likes and not pushing through mental discomfort

[shiraishi--kanade]

My most controversial pjsk opinion is that I genuinely dislike An's wedding event but I very specifically hate this writing choice.

The in-universe justification for this is Shizuku being taller than An but oh my god. An is just so uncomfortable for most of the entire event in that outfit. She was so excited about wearing a tuxedo as well and basically was shot down when bringing that up. This actually hurts my soul a bit

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count:3086

Finale I - part 3/3 (Agatha X Reader ending):

After that intense experience, you took separate ways... for now.

Since Agatha's House was destroyed, you took her into yours. The sign of your little shop was turned to 'Closed' for the past few days now, as you chose to spend your days in your little apartment right above it.

Both Agatha and you needed to recover from everything that took place, Agatha to come to terms with her permanently white hair but also make up for lost time.

You were laying on the couch, your head resting on Agatha's laps. A book was being held in her one hand as the other was gently passing through your hair; a gently caress that relaxed you.

You lazily looked at her, both wearing simple silk robes for comfort; finding no need for clothes, since they wouldn't stay on for long.

She was reading something that put her into thought, evident by how she chewed her bottom lip faintly.

Your gaze became more intense, focusing longer than you wanted on her pink lip that was trapped beneath her white teeth.

Of course, Agatha sensed it and looked down at you; freeing her lip. "You are staring, sugar."

You offerer a cheeky smile, not embarrassed by you getting caught by her. "It's not my fault, really. Chewing that lip of yours is tempting."

"Hmm," she hummed in amusement, the edges of her lips curving into a smirk. "Is that so?"

"You don't believe me?" You questioned and pushed your body up so you could be closer to her face.

She did not mind the proximity. Instead, she welcomed it; a sparkle of mischief in her blue eyes. "Should I?"

You knew what she was doing, trying to bait you into actually doing something.

And you, like the fish you were, happily let yourself get caught in her nets. Without another word, you placed one hand against her cheek and pressed your lips with hers; your actions were sweet and caring.

Agatha allowed her free hand that once was in your hair to be placed upon yours, pressing it harder against her cheek. The other let the book fall to the ground as it moved to the back of your head and pushed you more into the kiss.

Your lips parted willingly, sighing in her mouth as she took control; every moment with her feeling like a dream you did not wish to wake up from.

Agatha's hand left yours and started to gently caress your body above the robe, heading for the slit that existed between your legs. Her touch made you moan, especially when you felt her warm hand against your thigh; pushing your robe further up.

The hand behind your head kept you there, kissing you even when the need for air was becoming too strong; letting you pull back faintly only for her to attack your neck.

"Agatha," you moaned, feeling the hand behind your head grabbing your hair and tugging it back; forcing you to expose more of your neck to her hungry lips. "Mmm."

Her greedy hand kept moving up and down, reaching too close to your centre and then trailing away; driving you crazy with her teasing.

You were trapped by invisible bonds caused by your love for her and her teasing, ever move of her making you more needy of her... of her touch, her kisses, her presence.

"Yes, pet?" She whispered against your skin, teeth gently grazing and preparing you for the bite she was about to place on you; a fresh mark for her to admire later on.

Before she could, however, someone knocked at the back door that led to your apartment.

Agatha tried to ignore it, the feeling of your pulse against her lips too tempting to just let go.

The knocking continued. Whoever was wishing to draw your attention was definitely persistent.

"Ags..." You sighed faintly, trying to hold back a moan. Your free hand went to the back of her neck, fingers gently tugging her thick hair. "The door."

"They will leave," she argued, fighting back her annoyance.

"It's Billy."

The name of the teenage witch made her stop and pull back, looking at your flustered face and hooded eyes. If this was a trick, she ws going to make you regret it.

"Agatha! Y/N!" The familiar voice of Billy reaching you. "I know you are in there. I can hear your thoughts... and I truly wish I didn't right now."

Defeated, Agatha let you go.

You chuckled faintly, your cheeks a faint pink as you got up. Fixing your robe that Agatha had so gracefully hitched up, you walked towards the door.

At the same time, your lover bent and grabbed the fallen book before leaving it closed on the nearest coffee table by her right.

You removed the bolt, feeling your magic reacting to his presence; recognising the familiar unique magic the boy possessed.

You opened the door. "Hey, Billy," you greeted and pushed the door wider open while also stepping to the side. "Come in."

He offered you a small smile and entered your house for the first time, looking around at the minimalistic design that sort of suited your style.

With how often you changed towns and states due to your expended life, you learnt not to possess a lot of things; making it easier to pack and start a new life.

Agatha cleared her throat, not even bothering to stand up and greet him. Sure, she didn't mind seeing him, but he had currently interrupted her from making you squirm and beg while laid on her legs.

"You want some tea, Billy?" You asked, doing your best to recover from the teasing.

"Uhm, yes, please," he replied as he took a seat on the armchair. "Agatha," he greeted, clearing his throat.

He was trying hard to forget the glimpse of her thoughts that he got while waiting for them to open the door... for obvious reasons.

It was in those moments that he was thankful that he could not hear your thoughts, for he was not sure he would have managed to look any of you in the eye.

"Came to crush the party, Billy boy?" Agatha questioned, taking no shame in what had almost taken place or the fact that the noisy teenager across from her had read her thoughts.

Billy felt uncomfortable and rubbed his sweaty palms on his black jeans, unsure how to answer. Thankfully for him, you arrived with three mugs of tea and passed him one.

You passed the other to Agatha and sat by her side, folding your bare legs beneath you to protect them from the faint chill.

"So, Billy," you started, taking a sip of the warm liquid. "What brings you here?"

The boy tried to copy you and drink some tea, only to cough faintly and pull back; having underestimated how hot the liquid was

"I..." he cleared his throat and tried to ignore the burning sensation coming from his tongue. "Just wanted to ask a few questions. Since, well... back then, it was not really the right time."

Agatha scoffed. "Oh, really?"

You nudged her with your elbow and sent her a silent look, full of argument. She merely glanced to the side, not truly accepting defeat or the fact that you scolded her like a child.

"Go ahead, Billy." You encouraged the boy.

The teenager was thankful for your interference. "So... uhm, about what Rio said back then... about you being a blessed child."

"Ah," you exclaimed gently and tapped your fingers against the mug. "It's quite a story, there."

Agatha sipped the tea from her purple mug. "Basically, witches have found different ways to have children; not always in the need of a mam. A blessed child is no different..." she kept her face serious, and Billy hung from her every word. "Though in such cases, a witch must cast a forbidden and dangerous ritual. Ask the triple godess to bless her with a child. It is more of a myth, impossible to get an answer or a successful term."

Billy leaned forward, clearly interested. "So, that means that you..." his attention was focused on your form, fingers tapping against the mug as the topic was not one you would truly discuss.

"I am not entirely human," you finished for him, taking a few sips of the hot tea to ease the feeling within. "Though, witches are not considered entirely human either; most of them. I am simply... the exception within the exception."

Agatha, sensing your uneasiness and the sensitivity of the topic; moved her free hand and gently pushed some strands of your hair over your shoulder; silently studying you for when you needed her to interfere

You were thankful for her actions, the silent but caring move offering you confidence. The topic was... sensitive, but you did not wish to fight it or keep things from Billy.

He deserved to know.

"This is why Rio had such special interest in her," Agatha continued. "She must have been the first one to see in centuries."

Billy was finally able to drink the tea. "But why?" He questioned as he remembered how Lilia mentioned moon witches, and yet not even the Internet seemed to have a lot of answers on them.

You took a deep breath. "Cause there is a catch, Billy." You looked at him in the eyes, your voice stable despite the uneasiness within. "You see, moon witches were born more often back then... before the Salem Trials, before even Lilia's time."

"It was a dark time even for witches," Agatha added. "The number of magic users was vast, and there were rivalries. The use of dark magic was growing popular, and many witches were going solitary in search of power."

Billy wanted to comment and scoff, considering this was what Agatha did. In more ways than one. Yet he remained silent, interested, and eager in this story.

"There were witches, though, who tried to even the odds; to maintain the balance," you continued. "They prayed and experimented and created a ritual, giving birth to a new line of witches; capable of stopping the dark influence from spreading... and they did. But there was a catch..." You passed your tongue over your dry lips. "The goddes' powers were shared between each blessed child, a safe measure to ensure things remained balanced. But witches got greedy, and one blessed child turned on another; eliminating the competition. Normal witches, forming powerful covens, also grabbed the chance to eliminate any moon witches; they were afraid their powers would take control. In the end, the moon witches became extinct, and no one had ever managed to birth a new one..."

"Until my greedy mother came along," Agatha said, her annoyance and anger evident by the snarl on her face. "She was so certain I was born evil. She thought she had found her answer by bringing forth a blessed child to do the nasty work for her."

Billy could almost imagine it all taking place, from the battles to Evanora forming this ridiculous and selfish plan.

》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》》

Evanora stood in front of a young witch, one of the may belonging to her coven; the Salemties.

"Evanora," the girl called the woman's name, carefully treading the waters. After all, their leader was known to have a temper and a foul mood; especially ever since she birthed Agatha two years prior. "I don't think this will work....what if the goddess rejects me? She did this to others."

Evanora grabbed the hands of the young witch, trying to sound supportive and caring. "It has to, Adelaide. The moon godess herself knows there is evil in Agatha. This needs to happen to prevent the past from repeating itself."

The young witch was uncertain and fearful. She was not sure she wanted to be a mother, but Evanora had personally chosen her among the other witches, and she should be honoured.

Her purity and innocence made her a perfect candidate, and many witches considered her lucky to be given such privilege.

What no one knew back then was the fact that the moon Goddess knew Agatha's path, and she knew that a special someone was needed to eventually save her.

And thus, the ritual became a success; no one knew how this unborn child was destined to do the exact opposite of what they expected of her.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The 9 months of pregnancy passed fast, and young Agatha had no clue of the plans that led to it. When the time for the labour came, the process was hard, but Evanora had a skilful midwife and healer that was more than capable of doing her job.

When the child was born, it was Evanora that held the child first; not even allowing the young mother to do that. With greedy eyes, she searched both hands of the infant until she spotted the birthmark on the right wrist.

"A blessed child," she exclaimed, prideful that the ritual was successful. She then looked at the young witch, who was trying to recover from both the blood loss and the tough labour. "You must raise her, in solitude but within the coven grounds. She must be taught her path and trained to be ready. She must learn we are her allies and the rules of the coven." She instructed, showing little concern for the new mother.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Raising a moon child was tough, especially when one had to do it alone. The other witches offered their assistance, but none wished to help with the child directly. They were either too afraid due to the old rumours or simply did not want to put effort, since that child was only created to take down Agatha.

Thus, you were raised by a single mother; never understanding the hesitation behind her moves or the looks she would give you.

Sometimes, she looked at you with care and treated you as her own child. She would put you to sleep and gladly show you her light blue magic with little cute shows.

And then, there were days you would look at her with those glowing white eyes... moments you would show your magic, hardly in any control, and yet being able to achieve things other witches tried hard for years.

There were days she would catch you talking to plain air or stare at the moon for hours as if hypnotised. You would look at her with such a deep look, an ancient soul trapped within the body of a child.

The burden eventually became too much, and she could not take it anymore. So one day, while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed; she confronted Evanora.

"I am sorry, but I can't do this anymore," she told the older witch. "I just.. can't..."

Evanora didn't have any empathy for her. "It's your duty. You have to. Her powers are already developing, and Agatha has yet to show hers. The chance is approaching."

Adelaide shook her head in denial. "No, I did my duty and carried her for nine months and birthed her. But I can not raise her. Treat her the way you do. She does not deserve this, and I refuse to play a part in it."

Evanora's gaze darkened with anger, and her hand moved faster than Adelaide anticipated. The loud sound of a smack echoed across the silent room, and the young witch felt the burning sensation against her cheek.

"You are a disgrace to your coven to your sisters," Evanora spat. "Leave my coven, leave those blessed grounds, and never come back, or you will never execute."

Those sharp words hurt more than her slap, and Adelaide looked at Evanora with teary eyes. She could not believe she was being cast out by her own coven leader.

Taking a deep breath, she kept whatever pride was left in her and marched inside the house; heading to pack the few things she had and leave.

Yet, when she passed in front of your room; she paused. With slow steps, she walked inside, observing your sleeping form as you hugged a wooden, carved little rabbit she had made for you.

She pressed her lips until they formed a thin line, and she gently caressed your little pink cheeks with the back of her fingers. "I am sorry," she whispered and pulled back, having little time to pack and leave; her heart heavy.

《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《《

Silence enveloped the room, the topic laying heavy and causing a tension tough to break through. Yet you managed to break it first, Agatha's warm hand on yours being the anchor to keep you from losing control.

"Anyways... I don't believe this is the only reason why you visited, Billy," you said, emptying the remnants of the tea in one go.

The teenager shifted on his seat, choosing to focus on the next topic; one that he hesitated to bring up but had to.

"It's about Tommy," he informed, slowly gathering the courage to let you know. "Ever since I gave him a body... I can sense him stronger than before, but I can't find him... and I... I am not even sure how to approach him."

"And you want what?" Agatha asked. "Us to help you find him? Perhaps bring back those old Westview memories?" The guilty look Billy gave her was all the answers she needed. She looked at you. "Sugar?"

You looked back at her, offering a sweet smile. "I mean, it's not like we have anything else planned ahead."

She wanted to scold you, for she did have plenty of plans, all revolving around you, but in the end; she did not argue or voice her thoughts. She could see that spark in your eyes, and she had come to realize you did have a soft spot for the boy.

Then she dared to look at Billy, seeing the hope he held so tightly to worry beneath at what your answers would be.

In the end, Agatha let out a heavy sigh. "Well then..." she stood up and pushed her hair back. "Let's go find Tommy, shall we?" She extended a hand for you to take, gently helping you up.

Billy jumped up, already excited by your positive answers. He didn't say anything, but his big smile and energy were enough to express his gratitude towards the two of you.

'Hold on, Tommy,' He thought, as if his twin could hear him. 'We are coming for you'.

Finale II - part 1/3 (Agatha X Reader X Rio ending)

[nakylvr]

desperately need a fic where trans masc reader wears manon's hoodie plsplsplspls

yes.

— HOODIE SEASON 👑

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, tmasc!reader, reader is shorter than manon (</3), mild language, lightly suggestive

while it doesn't exactly get super cold in los angeles, every time you went to the kats house, it was fucking freezing. you don't know why, but no matter what you wore whenever you went over there it was always cold. but, you didn't bother asking why. it was just a little too cold for you.

so when you arrived at the house wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, you regretted your clothing choice immediately when you stepped inside.

sophia closed the door behind you as you walked inside after her, a smile curling on her lips. "you know you should just stay here at this point," she lightly teases. "you're always here."

"sophia! don't harass my boyfriend for loving me!" manon's voice is heard before she pops up beside sophia.

"i was not harassing him," sophia jokingly rolls her eyes. "you two need to get an actual place. that's all i'm saying!" she raises her hands up and walks away from the door.

manon gently shoves sophia further into the house, giggling lightly before grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a hug. "so what have i done to deserve your great presence today?" she jokes, a smile on her face.

you let out a chuckle at her question. "oh nothing, am i not allowed to see my beautiful girlfriend when i want?" you respond in the same jokingly manner.

"i never said that," manon shakes her head, pulling away to look at you with a bright smile. "i'm happy to see you. usually you tell me when you're coming, not that i'm complaining though. i like being surprised." her hand plays with your hair a little bit, raking her fingers through it.

"i got finished with classes early so i thought i'd stop by," you reply, smiling back at her.

"well i am definitely not complaining," manon responds. "you can head to my room, i'll follow you in a minute. dani's not here so you won't have to deal with her teasing."

nodding your head, you give a quick, "okay" as she pecks your lips quickly.

you make your way to her room, opening the door and walking inside. you somehow feel even colder than when you weren't in the room. glancing around the room, you spot one of manon's hoodies and grab it. without thinking, you throw it over your head and climb into the bed, pulling out your phone.

"so we're stealing clothes now, huh?"

you look up from your phone to see manon standing in front of the bed before she climbs in beside you, a teasing smile on her face. "it's cold," you mumble out.

manon giggles at your response, her eyes looking over you and her hoodie you were wearing. it was baggy on you, falling past your waist due to the height difference between you two, and you had to push the sleeves up a bit so they wouldn't hang over your hands. "you look really good in it," she says, her fingers fiddling with the string.

"really?" you ask, looking down at yourself before back at manon.

"mhm," she hums, leaning forward and kissing you.

the kiss was slow, filled with the devoting amount of love you had for each other as your lips molded together. your hands grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to you, to which she hooked her leg over your hips to straddle you. your teeth nip at her bottom lip as she pulls away, the skin tugging lightly before disconnecting. another giggle comes from manon at the flushed expression on your face, her hand resting on your cheek.

"y'know, i wouldn't mind having a place with you," she says out of nowhere, leaving you staring up at her with subtle confusion. "i think it'd be nice. if you would want to, that is."

a warm feeling radiates through you at her words, realizing that she wants to see you every day, every morning, every night. you nod your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. "i'd really like that," you say softly. "i would love to wake up next to your beautiful face every morning."

manon's face heats up at your response, a big smile forming on her face. "really?" she questions.

"yeah," you nod. "we can get a cat, too."

manon gasps at this, lightly slapping your shoulder. "are you serious? yn, you know you have to commit and get me a cat now, right?"

laughing, you nod your head again. "oh trust me, i know. it's been on your wish list for some time now. but first we need the place, then i'll get you a cat."

dramatically groaning, manon throws her head back. "fine!" she sighs. "i guess i can wait." she pouts, looking back down at you.

you chuckle, bringing your hands up to cradle her face with a smile on your face. "just make sure you don't forget about me when you're a global superstar," you say quietly.

a soft smile is on manon's face as she shakes her head. "that's never gonna happen, i promise."

"good," your smile grows as you lean up and press your lips against hers.

[hanahaki-disease]

Damian calls Percy "Baba" it happens completely by accident and unexpectedly. It's just that Percy comes to Wayne Manor for the weekend and cooks breakfast with Alfred in the morning - these are blue pancakes with honey and berries. He puts a plate in front of Damian and bends down to kiss the top of his head, and Damian, sleepy and distracted, purrs in response and says softly, "Thank you Baba." Alfred almost drops the jar of honey, and Percy just smiles gently and says: "Sure, My little Agapi". Since then, Damian calls Percy "Baba" and no one acts like it's something wrong.

One day Damian gets seriously injured, which causes him to be given serious painkillers and Bruce, to his displeasure, cannot be with him, because the Scarecrow gang seriously raged that night. But Percy is there, Percy with warm hands and a gentle voice, Percy who smells soothing of soft jasmine and sea salt, Percy who looks like Talia. Damian, in a haze, is clouded by reason, shrinks and is afraid, behaves like the child he is and calls his parents. Percy is lying next to him, hugging him tightly and lovingly stroking his hair. And Damian snuggles up to him, quietly whimpering "Umi" or "Baba" at different intervals and Percy quietly sings to him "Under the Sea" from The Little Mermaid, with his quiet and soft voice it sounds like a sweet lullaby. And Damian allows himself to relax by falling asleep in his father's arms and listening to his gentle singing.

Percy is called by Greek nicknames - "Agapoula Mou" my little love, "Louloudi Mou" my flower, "Moro mou" My baby. Damian liked Greek and decided to learn it. Percy actually shed tears when Damian began to wear a Greek patronymic derived from the full name of Percy - Perseides, the child of Perseus.

Damian has two sets of parents: his biological parents and his “adoptive” parents, though one technically also counted as biological as well.

With Bruce and Talia, Damian knows he is safe and protected. Never once does he have to worry about being hurt or targeted (and being Robin doesn’t count.) He knows that the two of them would go through hell to make sure he is safe (not that the others wouldn’t either.) With Bruce and Talia, he doesn’t have to worry about money. Doesn’t have to worry about food or clothes or anything else his heart desires for his parents are royalty in their own right.

Damian knows he is safe and protected by his mother and father.

With Percy and Annabeth, Damian knows he is loved. Never once does he have to question the affection they give (and he knows his other parents love him as well.) But there was no need to compete for attention, no sibling to compare to, no legacy to uphold. Damian can be his touch-starved, parental-affection-seeking, slightly selfish, child self.

Damian knows he is loved and wanted by his baba and ummi. Even if they are just barely a decade older than him, even if the scars on their bodies are the same as his own, Damian knows he is loved.

Damian was used to nightmares. He was used to waking up with a fast heart and dry throat. To adrenaline and panic making his eyes shoot open to a dark room and quiet night.

At father’s, he wasn’t the only one who experienced them, but rarely was he aware of the reactions the others had. The others would stay in their own space, silent and wallowing in the memory of what they saw.

At baba’s, it was different.

Maybe it was because he was the only child in the small two bedroom apartment (Estelle spends her days with jidda Sally, but some nights she does sleep over.) Maybe because he can hear Percy and Annabeth have their own nightmares on the other side of the wall, voices muffled by drywall and hushed by the other.

But Damian knows that should he wake up scared and frightened, baba and ummi would never push him away. They’ll welcome him into their bed and tell him stories of their adventures when they were younger. Ummi will rub his back in circles, interjecting to correct the tale, and baba will use his powers over water to make it come alive.

And when sleep takes over, the weight of his eyelids heavy and the warmth that came from being held safe in their arm, Damian doesn’t have to worry about another nightmare.

Percy becomes the dad he wanted to have as a kid to Damian. And it’s not a hard bar to jump over even if the competition is Batman.

[hecksupremechips]

Can we talk about mitsuham I think we should talk about mitsuham yes I’d like that very much

Imagine Mitsuru her life has been planned out for her by a bunch of men her choices are not hers to make every move is political she is nothing but a tool forced to fight as a child never allowed to burden anyone with her feelings. Her life isn’t hers, it’s never been hers for a second, she exists to further the careers of the men around her. The first two friends she makes are both boys and she was in charge of leading them, using them just to further the Kirijo agenda. Genuine friendship did blossom between them, but things fell apart pretty quickly. Shinjiro can’t control Castor, something is seriously wrong with him, he kills someone, then he leaves and the Kirijos cover it up. Was it to protect him, or to protect themselves? Mitsuru certainly doesn’t know anymore but she’s lost a friend and can’t reach him again, he’s too traumatized by personas and Akihiko is still there but he’s always so stuck on Shinjiro and Mitsuru feels like she failed both of them. Just more men for her to let down by not being good enough

Then there’s Kotone. Sweet, strong, clumsy, talented Kotone. She’s so bubbly and friendly, but behind those warm smiles is horrible loneliness. Pain. But she’s never ever gonna let anyone see that. She busies herself by taking care of everyone else, listening to their problems and never burdening them with her own feelings. She can just fix everything and make everyone happy if she works herself hard enough. She just has this way about her, so reliable and so kind

And Mitsuru watches Kotone from above. Trusts her to be the leader, or maybe she just wanted to push a burden onto someone else for a change. Someone who’s able to take on burdens with a smile for fucks sake. And Kotone leads, seemingly effortlessly, and is able to recruit several members in a short time and achieve just so much more than Mitsuru could in her entire lifetime. Just, perfectly. Without even possessing any prior knowledge of the dark hour or personas. And she does this while being so emotional, so social, so weird, so fucking cute, it’s absolutely nauseating. This should be fine, right? It’s what Mitsuru’s always wanted, for someone else to ease her burden. And hell, it’s a woman too, a woman who’s perfectly capable of doing it all without a bunch of men helping her. It’s inspiring, isn’t it?

But there’s the pain. The envy. Kotone is perfect and she doesn’t even have to try. Mitsuru on the other hand has been shaving herself down to nothing just to be allowed a place. She makes the perfect grades and wears the beautiful clothes and applies the fucking makeup and is mature for her age and never speaks out or feels anything that could possibly make her be seen as a human, a filthy fucking human. So why does a woman as unashamed as Kotone get to have it all? And why is Mitsuru still here, still acting as the Kirijo tool, still doing whatever she possibly can to hurt herself to make a man feel better? Why isn’t she useful anywhere? It’s not fair

And then when she actually spends the time with Kotone she’s trying so hard to be that wise and mature figure she’s always been, trying so hard to force herself to smile through the pain, but she’s talking to someone who can see right through that shit cuz Kotone Shiomi invented lying through her teeth to make others feel better. It’s annoying really, how Kotone is supposed to be the childish one, yet it’s Mitsuru who can’t get it together and can’t seem to look into those bright eyes without breaking. And Kotone isn’t disgusted by what she sees, even though Mitsuru is being unreasonable and emotional and talking about wanting to run away and how much she hates her life and how she’s not only eating fast food but enjoying it, letting herself enjoy an indulgence that won’t make her pretty anymore. No, Kotone sees this and listens and encourages it and celebrates it, celebrates how utterly human Mitsuru is. She holds her hand and says "let me take on your burden". And it’s horrible, this kindness, Mitsuru hasn’t even broken all her bones to make Kotone happy, so why is she being so fucking nice? And then something breaks, and Kotone defends her. Stands up for her against a man. Lets herself once again take a hit to protect someone else. And it’s just too familiar, too much to fucking bear, and it pisses Mitsuru the fuck off. And she is able to tell a man to go fuck himself, because no one gets to fucking talk to this girl like she isn’t the most amazing person ever to exist. Not after everything she’s done, everything she still does, not after giving her all and never once asking for anything in return. And in standing up for Kotone, Mitsuru is able to stand up for herself for the first time in her life. And she looks at Kotone and says "let’s take on each other’s burdens"

Oh and also they watch a scary movie together and hold hands and ride a motorcycle and Mitsuru calls Kotone adorable I mean that’s pretty gay man

[tarithenurse]

The Bathhouse

Fandom: MCU (AU) Pairing/starring: Jotun!Loki x Fem!Jotun!reader Content: Non-gender-segregated bathhouse, a bit of fluff and pining, smut, a smidgen of female heat, loss of virginity, naivety, mostly some sort of smut (though not P-in-V...this time). A/N: So this is actually from something else I’m working on just for myself but it had vibes that I thought I could use for some fun with Loki. Betaed by the lovely TanteFrutsel-CreativeNurse!

The Bathhouse

It has been a long day and you’re tired but even so you sneak past your friends’ doors at the inn and make your way down the stairs where the innkeeper is sitting with his book. A sideways glance reveals that it’s a volume of “Tusk Love” which you’ve never heard of.

Out onto the street and past the darkening homes, you can’t help but clutch at the concealed daggers although you feel surprisingly at home here in Utgarde. It’s just...it’s a new place and recent events have grown deep roots. It doesn’t make it easier that you feel like a stranger in your own body what with the delicate changes of the heat.

Living as long as Jötunn do, nature has decided to play a cruel trick on the females and only allow them to be fertile once every century... the heat, as this period is called, lasts for at least half a year in which they have to deal with several physical changes.

Reaching the bathhouse, the place looks closed and you are dubious when you push on the door but it swings inwards, allowing you entry to the antechamber with the reception where a flustered matron stands, wringing her hands and with curlers in the hair as though she’s been roused from bed and barely had time to dress.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she snips, “but we’re closed.”

“I was told to come.”

Before you can give more of an explanation a voice comes from the beyond the arches where the springs are: “She’s here on my behest.”

You continue into the changing area with the woman trailing behind, complaining quietly.

“Now leave us, please.” Loki sounds bored but authoritative, stirring something in you. It could be his demeanour or his rank, either way the matron leaves, pointing at a stack of towels on her way out.

The changing room has a series of smaller cubicles for private disrobing as well as a low bench snaking through the area. On the one end closest to the bath is a bunch of familiar clothes folded neatly and with a set of daggers lying on top.

Undressing, you discard your own weapons too although a knot forms in the belly at the idea of being unarmed. Then you grab a towel and wrap it around your torso before proceeding past the archway.

There’s a lot more steam than during the daytime when you would normally visit as though the springs run hotter at night. The sulphuric scent mingles with that of sweet incense burning in a pot to the side. That wasn’t there last time. Loki is resting in his true form in the water at the far side of the pool, facing the entry directly, and he lifts a dripping and muscular arm to wave at the newcomer.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admits.

And I’m not sure I should stay, you think. Still, you step forward, stepping into the bath wearing nothing but a short swath of fabric that you find entirely inadequate in spite of Jötunn traditions but at least it covers the most important bits. Loki isn’t shy to look, his red gaze travelling your form before meeting your own faintly glowing eyes and remaining there until you’re sat down, towel soaking up the water, making it cling to your body.

You sigh. The hot spring really lives up to its name. With eyes closed you dip down below the surface to wet your hair.

Upon resurfacing, you keep your eyes shut as you wipe the water from your face. “Now tell me...what brings me here?” you shrug blindly, unsure of what else to say but it turns out any more sentences probably wouldn’t have made it past your lips as the god cups your face with a hand and kisses your softly.

*SLAP*

It’s a knee-jerk reaction, caused more by bafflement than anger or fear and the moment your palm impacts with his cheek, you regrets it.

“Sorry!” you blurt simultaneously, leaving the other gaping.

You have rarely been the type that dreamed about kissing etc but this development is very far from anything you could have ever imagined. Shifting uncomfortably where you sit, you glance over at your friend and find that he has moved away and turned his back to you completely, fingers gripping the black tresses tightly.

“Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeats under his breath.

As he mutters, you get up and slowly moves over, stretching out a hand to settle on his shoulder which makes him freeze under the touch. “No...I shouldn’t have...you just surprised me, is all.”

Turning and grabbing your hand as it falls, there’s a desperation in the god’s eyes that you don’t understand but you find nothing threatening there and so don’t back away when he closes the distance one careful step at a time.

He breathes heavily, hungrily. “I should leave.”

“Oh alright...but why?”

“It’s your...your scent...it changes when you’re in heat,” he grits out but stays put, still clutching your hand.

Holding your breath as if that could help, you consider everything you know about the nature of the heat you’re going through but you cannot recall anyone ever telling you about this effect.

“Does it...hurt you?” you ask naively.

A shiver passes through Loki from the top of his head and down, carrying with it your gaze which lands on something you have never seen before and you instinctively know that this is not meant for you to gaze upon. Snapping your eyes shut, warmth rising to your face, all the awkward lessons at school come rushing into your mind although they are coloured by something new now. Curiosity. Desire. Something within you is calling back, responding to the god’s desperation.

“No,” he chuckles darkly, “you’re are absolutely not hurting me...far from.”

“Then...is there anything I can do?”

“Tell me to leave.”

“And if I don’t?”

Loki closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head so slightly you almost miss it. When he opens them again he looks at you and asks,“Let me kiss you one last time?”

You have barely nodded before his mouth is upon you, stealing a kiss and your breath. Strong hands cup your face, tilting your head gently to allow him better access as his tongue sweeps the seam of your lips which automatically part.

After a second of flailing, you grab hold of him, pulling you closer together in spite of the prodding to your lower abdomen. You need the support or you would lose all sense of balance, of up and down...but soon enough your hands begin to wander, skating over his broad shoulders and down his back, teasing a new ripple to be released and pucker the blue skin under which his muscles bunch taut as if he’s restraining himself physically.

Then, just as sudden as he’d begun, Loki releases you and steps back several paces, leaving you with your arms stretched out before you, trying to reach him.

Something more than blood is coursing through your veins, throbbing at your core. You don’t quite understand it but you know one thing: you want more.

“[Y/N],” he gasps for breath, “this isn’t what I had planned.”

“I believe you.”

You move up to him once more and this time you’re the one to glide a hand around his neck, pulling him down for a new kiss which he gladly gives into for a moment before lifting his head up against your grip with a soft groan.

“Are you sure?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that?” you mumble against his lips.

The strong Jotunn guides you to the edge of the pool, carefully removing the towel and lifting you up until you’re seated on the edge. “I could never regret you.” A perfect hand pushes against your sternum, slowly driving you onto your back while he slots his hips between your knees. “I know I cannot...but let me give you this instead...” Before you can ask what he means by that, he shushes you.

His grip is light enough that you could resist it when Loki pushes your legs apart, revealing your most intimates. Watching between the slopes of your breasts, you see him lick his lips before lowering himself to deliver a kitten lick to the sensitive folds.

You’ve never touched yourself there save for the practicality of cleaning. Nothing could have prepared you for the odd, delicate sensation of the increasingly dedicated strokes of the god’s tongue – sometimes broad, caressing all of your core at once, and sometimes pointed and directed to the bundle of nerves at the very front. It catches you off guard when your pelvis begins to rise on its own accord from the floor as an intensity builds within you. Loki grabs your hips, holding them in place and you can feel his smile against the puffy, lower lips.

“Loki, I...” you moan without really knowing what you want to say.

You’re on the verge of something new and you want him to bring you there despite the trepidation for this unknown.

Releasing your pearl with a soft pop, he smiles up at you with a glistening mouth. “It’s alright, I got you,” and with that he returns to the ministrations.

It comes as a rush, crashing through your body in waves until you’re a moaning and writhing mess. Fingers claw for anything to hold on to, finding only his hair as your back arches off the cool stone floor. Again and again you mewl his name.

Slowly, lapping at your core lazily, he helps bring you down from this new high until you can finally breathe evenly again.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, staring up at the ceiling while still quivering.

A strangled grunt from Loki makes you look for him: his fist is holding onto his shaft, pumping it and drawing your curiosity despite feeling abashed at that and what has just transpired.

“Please...touch your breasts for me,” Loki pleads and you obey without hesitation.

Testing at first, you quickly find that the nipples are overly sensitive, sending goosebumps down your body when you roll them between the fingers. You also cup the breasts fully, squeezing them and for the first time in your life admiring their form.

“Just like that,” he groans, hand moving more furiously.

A curiosity strikes you and you slip a hand between your legs, tracing the wetness there until you hone in on the clit which makes you shudder. Hesitantly at first but then with greater need, you begin to rub small circles onto the sensitive spot, encouraged by the words of praise that Loki showers you with until he suddenly growls your name and stutters, pearly white leaking between his fingers as his head falls back.

In that moment, he’s the most beautiful you’ve ever seen: fragile yet strong and so incredibly sensual with parted lips.

He sinks to his knees and you slip into the water in alarm, catching him in your arms and relishing in the nearness of him. It takes a moment before you realize that he’s talking to you, slurring his words slightly because his lips are pressed to your blue skin.

“...not what I planned. I wanted to court you first. To bring you to my favourite places or learn of yours, wine and dine...treat you like you deserve.”

You’re stunned at the revelation but manage to gather you wits. “There’s still time for that.”

Loki’s hands find your waist, thumbs running circles below the ribs and causing you to shiver especially when he adjusts the grip so he can graze the bottom of your breasts. Slowly but surely his attention is diverted, split between fondling them and your ass.

“For so long,” Loki confesses, “I’ve been admiring you from afar.” His fingers slide along your hipbone, tracing the vee until delving between your still slick folds, making you whimper.

He turns you around, sitting you between his legs so you can feel the half-erect cock against your back as you lean against his chest. Long arms cage you in, holding you securely but gently as he continues the circular movements you yourself had initiated earlier.

“I don’t have words to explain why I love you,” the god whispers hoarsely in your ear, “but please let me try to show you.”

You nod mutely, breath already uneven as heat pools in your core.

It takes little time before he has reignited the burning ecstasy within you and you tumble over this strange precipice once more, calling out his name on ragged puffs of air.

This time, Loki simply holds you as you descend from the high, rocking you gently and whispering sweet nothings to you that make your heart swell with the knowledge that he loves you.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

Ghoulette Appreciation Week 2

Week 2: Stealing clothes

Possibly, the Abbey was haunted. There had to be a phantom haunting the halls (no, not that one) or some sort of ghost (not that one either). Either way, there was some sort of spectre stealing clothes from all the resident ghoulettes. Mist never had any chance to experiment with fashion when she joined the Ghost project. Now that the new ghouls have freedoms and finances she never had, their closets are the best shop in town. And best of all, they're free!

I'm starting to think my initial goal of writing more that 1k words for each prompt might actually be achievable... let's not jinx it by talking too loud!

Rating: General Content: domestic fluff, more unnecessary worldbuilding, Mist is the first ghoulette, a tiny reference to trans ghouls and dysphoria Words: 1291

Read below or on AO3!

Possibly, the Abbey was haunted. There had to be a phantom haunting the halls (no, not that one) or some sort of ghost (not that one either). Either way, there was some sort of spectre stealing clothes from all the resident ghoulettes.

It flowed through the corridors at night, undetected, and with it flowed a steady stream of disappearing shirts, socks, shorts. Items seemed to evaporate from the ghoulettes’ closets, disappearing as if carried by a Mist…

The Ministry had been in serious need of changes when Mist was first summoned. Not just the Abbey’s leaking roof, or the rising damp in the walls, or the growing rat problem. No, the main problems were with how the organisation treated the ghouls they claimed to hold so dear. If He had ever got word the conditions above, He would surely never have let His beloved creations leave the pit!

The ghouls, for there were originally only ghouls, were provided the barest minimum to keep their vessels living. All their food was from a canteen, all their clothes were standard issue and limited, they had no more freedom than was required to play the instruments they had been summoned for. Part of the reason some of the ghouls liked touring so much was the change in routine, the slight flexibility that life on the road masquerading as humans gave them.

Mist had been seen as a complication when she first crawled out of the pit inhabiting a female vessel. Half the clergy had whispered about how they had thought all ghouls were male, the other half had muttered about how they didn’t have the funds for a separate dormitory, should they send her back? Mist hadn’t cared for either point of view. In the pit in their hellish forms they coexisted without issues, why did it need to be such a bit deal here? She was just glad she’d got a human vessel that resembled her physical expectations – there had been rumours that vessels could get switched during summoning, with ghoulettes’ ending up in ghouls’ vessels and vice versa. She already felt out of place in the Abbey, at least she didn’t feel out of place in her own skin.

Mist had been provided with the usual band ghoul performance uniform, as well as a daily uniform, identical to that of the other ghouls around her. Identical in size, as well as style. She had spent her time while in the band slumping around the Abbey drowning in itchy, black unisex t-shirts, waiting for things to get better.

They had, eventually. As the Ministry gained followers and therefore funding, they had fixed many of the problems at the Abbey, starting with the roof. The ghouls had of course been left until last, but with the change of figurehead of the band, their new leader had pushed for better treatment of, as he put it, the unholy instruments of His voice. The rat problem had also cleared up around this time.

Mist hadn’t been in the band at this time, but she was still able to reap some of the benefits of the new policies. As a retired band ghoul, she had a “pension” of sorts; a monthly allowance to purchase her own clothes for wearing outside of official duties and Mass, as well as any other creature comforts. It didn’t stretch very far, but it was something.

The newer band ghouls had it cushy, by comparison to Mist’s experience. They had a comparatively large monthly allowance for personal items, clothing and entertainment, and even a pack budget for stocking the new ghoul wing kitchenette. The current band ghouls had at this point accumulated far more in allowance than they actually needed – keeping a full glamour became tiring after a while and they did that enough on tour so they rarely went out to spend it. This resulted in their wardrobes becoming increasingly bloated over time.

In general, the ghouls had no real concept of spending money on luxury brands topside – why would they? Human capitalistic ways were an alien concept to them. And with disposable income, the new ghouls had developed an attitude of “see it, want it, buy it”. Some of them who had been topside a bit longer had worked out how to use their allowances responsibly, while the newest ghouls Phantom and Aurora were still in the stage of learning what your card had been declined meant. In Aurora’s defence, how was she to know that the butterfly dress she wanted was custom couture and beyond the budget of even the richest of humans?

The older ghouls had gained an understanding of what humans wore, and what was even comfortable for humanoids to wear, and only really bought what they needed. For many of the guys, this was just t-shirts of other bands they discovered and jeans. Rain had however taught himself to budget in order to buy fancier items and flamboyant blouses. Most of the ghoulettes fell somewhere in between, Cirrus being the best at budgeting and Cumulus the most impulsive spender.

Mist could still only afford mid-quality basics with her pension, even as a creature from hell she had developed some human morals and refused to succumb to fast fashion like some of her other retired brethren, cough Ifrit cough. Instead, her shop was the other ghoulettes’ closets. Usually when they weren’t there to call her out on her brazen theft.

Cumulus and Aurora had the best selection of feminine clothes, so they were usually Mist’s first choice. She had lacked any of these options when she was summoned, and she loved to get her hands on items that fitted her and her body the way she wanted them to, in colours other than boring, plain black. Cumulus also had the best selection of loungewear and on chilly days in the Abbey, Mist was never seen without one of Cumulus’ fluffy hoodies.

Sunshine had all of the skirts. Mist wasn’t a huge fan of them, she found them a bit impractical at times, but loved the feeling of swishing them around.

On the days when she didn’t feel like dressing quite so feminine, Cirrus had many pairs of trousers. From nicely tailored dress pants (that Mist rather ruined the effect of by having to roll the hems) to floaty culottes, she always had something Mist could “borrow”. The day Mist discovered Cirrus’ cargo pants however, was the day Cirrus mysteriously had to replace all of hers, which seemed to have gone missing overnight!

The ghoulettes were of course entirely aware of what was happening. It was quite difficult not to put two and two together when something went missing, and then the next day Mist was wearing it. They didn’t care though; they loved to see her in their clothes. Cirrus had even replaced her missing cargo pants in a smaller size to fit Mist better, and left them temptingly at the top of the pile.

Each one of them had offered to buy Mist clothes at some point, many times in fact, but she always refused. For her, clothes were far more special when taken from her ghoulettes anyway. Being able to pick and choose things she associated with them, the ghoulette pack who had adopted her as their own, was the real reason she liked their clothes. The comforting smell of the previous owner lingering in the fabric until it faded. Strangely enough, the items would then reappear in the closet Mist had pilfered it from in the first place…

None of the ghoulettes have anything to say about Mist’s light-fingeredness, really they just love to see her in their clothes. Their own little wisp drifting through the corridors, surrounding herself in the people she loved.

[nii-chans-rabiddogs]

Game time!

No TWs as far as i'm aware :). Shorter than normal, but it's set a bit after Detective? so have fun (:

@cupcakes-and-pain @maracujatangerine

“Hey, how do you guys classify supervillains? Or normal villains? Cuz if criminals aren’t villains, but the only difference between them that i can see is that villains have some sort of power. Are supervillains just really, really strong villains? Or do they gotta have a mafia or something? What’s the requirements? And why am I classified as a villain, I haven’t done anything that bad. Is it because of my power? Wait, do you know what my power is? What’s your power? Can-”

“Kid, what. How in the fresh hell did you get up here. This- we’re on the ninth floor!”

Awh, she didn’t answer my questions. I wanted to ask again but my throat closed up so I scampered onto the bookshelves to poke at the plants up there. Skyrise tried grabbing at me, but she was a very bright, blaring orange like one of those hunting vests so I dropped back down to climb over the desk in the middle of the office instead. She was saying something about not being allowed up here, and asking who I was. I stared at her from behind the desk, while she called out to whoever was in the hall. I’ve always been allowed up here though, but normally it’s with Detective and I haveta wear normal clothes. 

I like my costume better, cuz it’s got dark blue on it, and a really bright blue too. My goggles are red though, so I don’t like them as much but the costume makers didn’t have any in blue at all, which was rude. Blue is the best color, obviously. 

“Ghost, stop distracting Sky. Sky, that’s Ghost. He’s a visitor, and the detective can vouch for him. If he doesn’t want to leave just give him the light blue switch, it’ll keep him entertained long enough for us to contact Detective Gunner.” Monsoon called, walking past the door with a box of something. 

Skyrise just kept staring at me, so I stared back while pushing a pile of papers towards the edge. There’s no reason they should be on the desk anyway, and it’s not like anyone will actually do it, either. Skyrise grumbled something I couldn’t understand before walking over and grabbing the pile before it reached the edge. I guess that’s one way to get rid of it, I suppose. She walked towards the filing cabinet that was next to the bookshelves and started digging through it. I perked up when she pulled out the switch, cuz that means I get to play Stardew Valley and eat chocolates all day.

She turned around and I lunged over the desk to stand in front of her, holding my hands out for the switch. It’s been three whole days since I last played, and I needed to visit Sebastian. He’ll be my friend whether he likes it or not. She jerked back like she got hit, before blinking and handing me my switch. Aw yeah, game time!

I sat down under the desk, and listened to Skyrise walk out muttering angrily about something and close the door. 

“Staaaaaar dew vaaaaaalley, du du du du du” I whispered to myself as the game loaded up and music started playing. I had to farm my stuffs and then go visit Sebastian, and maybe I’d mine enough ores for the blacksmith. I hummed a random tune as I started farming, and planned on spending the rest of the day playing. It’s not like I have anywhere to be, and they always call Detective so he won’t get mad at me for disappearing again.

[middleearthpixie]

Wanted Man ~ Chapter Five

Summary: A price on his head, Loki of Asgard finds himself stranded on Earth and in need of one woman's help in order to free himself from the bounty and try to reclaim what he sees as his rightful throne in Asgard.

McKenna Carlin just wanted to put a horrible day behind her. She had no idea that things would get worse before they get better…

Pairings:  Loki Laufeyson x ofc McKenna Carlin

Characters: McKenna, Loki  

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

Tag List: @fizzyxcustard @court-jobi @guardianofrivendell @piggledy-higgledy @evenstaredits

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here! 

What she’d hoped would be a quick breakfast at the diner turned into anything but as Loki's eyes practically popped from their sockets as he read the menu. His first taste of bacon led to a four-course breakfast of eggs, pancakes, French toast (she thought he might actually cry when he tasted it with maple syrup), bacon, sausage, and hash browns. She’d never seen a man eat the way he did and it was nothing short of amazing that he managed to put so much food away. She was pretty sure her credit card actually groaned when she paid for breakfast and managed to drag him away from the dessert carousel at the front of the diner. 

“You can’t possibly still be hungry,” she grumbled, grabbing him by the hand to pull him away.

“You’d be amazed,” he replied, but allowed her to steer him out the door to her waiting Honda. “I had no idea how well Midgardians ate.”

“Trust me, there was nothing even close to eating well in what you had. And where did you put it all?” She unlocked the Accord and slid in behind the wheel.

Loki sank into the passenger seat with the heavy sigh of a well-fed bear. “So, where do we go next?”

“You need the basics. Jeans. Socks. Underwear. So, we’re heading to the mall.”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “The mall it is.”

She glanced over at him as she maneuvered through the traffic on Route 18. It was always heavy near the mall and today was no exception. But finally, she pulled into the parking lot and managed to find a space. With any luck, finding Loki suitable clothes would be relatively painless.

And it was. He was perfectly amenable to any suggestions, which was nice for a change since Joe was always a very particular shopper with particular tastes. And what was nicer still? He didn’t mind sharing the load when it came to carrying everything. In fact, when she’d reach to take the short stack of jeans from him, he drew back with an, “I’m quite capable, you know.”

Finally, when they’d amassed enough clothing for what seemed like half of the people in Brunswick, McKenna blew a wayward tendril out of her eyes and said, “Maybe you should try something on now?”

To her relief, he nodded. “I probably should, yes. And where do I do this?”

“Come with me and I’ll show you.” She wove her way through the racks and stacks to the back of the store and the dressing rooms. “Just take something and go in one of the little rooms. I’ll wait right here.”

“Shouldn’t you accompany me?”

Heat flashed through her and she had to bite back the word yes as it pressed against her lips. “No. It’s okay. The rooms are barely big enough for one person and since you’re a little bigger than most of us… well… we’d probably get to know each other a little too well, if you know what I mean.”

His dark brows pulled low. “I’m afraid I don’t, actually. I haven’t the foggiest idea of what you mean.”

“Just… trust me, okay? You’ll be fine on your own.” She handed him the pile of clothes and gave him a little push. “I’ll be right here when you come out. And remember, go slow with the zippers.”

He nodded and off he went, while she paced about just outside the dressing rooms like a nervous mother. When he emerged, he was wearing new Levis, with a plain black tee shirt stretched across his broad chest, and she smiled. He cleaned up nicely. Still looked a little battered, but otherwise… 

“These jeans are stiff. Are they supposed to be?” he asked, walking a bit bowlegged in her direction, as if he’d just gotten off a horse.

“They will until we wash them. Don’t worry. Eventually, they’ll be like a second skin. And nice and soft, like the ones I gave you.”

He smiled. “You are very kind, McKenna. I appreciate it. Not many people show me kindness.”

“Well, that’s kind of what happens when you kill and maim people.” She held his stare easily, but still breathed an inward sigh of relief when he slowly nodded.

“Yes, I suppose it does. Would it make a difference if I had a good reason?”

“I don’t think so.” She gestured to his dressing room. “You should go change back, if you’re done trying things on.”

“I am.”

“Good.” She glanced at his feet. Fortunately, his boots went with jeans, but she thought he might like something a little more comfortable as well. Surely her credit cards were groaning again, but so be it. He needed clothes, right?

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s hit the shoe department and then get out of here before I’m completely broke.”

After the mall, she did a quick grocery shop, and when she pulled into her apartment building’s parking lot, she groaned. A white Acura was parked in her space. Joe.

Loki was dozing in the passenger seat and she really hated having to poke him in the ribs. “Come on. We’re here and there’s no way I can possibly carry everything.”

He sat up, rubbing sleep from his right eye with one hand. “I think I can manage.”

She popped the trunk and he lifted everything as if it weighed almost nothing, and her belly twisted into knots as they made their way up to the third floor. Sure enough, the front door was unlocked. 

Her keys dangled from her hand as she pushed open the door and as she and Loki stepped inside, Joe poked his head out of the kitchen. “Kenna! Where were you?”

“I was out. What’re you doing here?” 

Loki set the bags on the floor just inside the door. “Who is this?”

The two men eyed each other like two lions trying to decide if they were going to do battle. McKenna tossed her keys back into her purse and set her purse on the coffee table. “This is Joe. Joe, this…” She paused, not really sure how to introduce Loki. How did one go about introducing a god wanted in at least two realms?

Joe’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Yes?”

“A friend,” she said, glancing back at Loki only to find he wasn’t looking at her, but still staring at Joe. Not only were his blue eyes icy now but they also had hints of green swirling in them now, and she had the sinking feeling the body count was close to going up by one. 

Turning back to Joe, she said, “What are you doing here?”

“I need my Rutgers sweatshirt. Shelley and I are going to Ocean City and I might need it.”

“You broke into my apartment for that? I don’t have it.”

“Sure you do. It’s in the bottom drawer. And I didn’t break in. I unlocked the door, like a normal person.” 

As he spoke, he held up the key she’d given him and as soon as she saw it, she snatched it from him. “What are you still doing with this? I told you leave it in the dish, didn't I?”

“Yeah, well, I didn't and I want my sweatshirt, so do me a solid and go get it.”

Her fingers tightened about the key on their own, and she ignored the sting of the teeth biting into her. “Do you a sol—are you kidding me?”

“I think the time has come for you to take your leave now,” Loki broke in, his voice low and steady.

“I think you need to mind your own business, pal,” Joe retorted. “I want my sweatshirt, Kenna. Where is it?”

“I told you, I don’t have it.” And she didn’t. Last weekend, she’d used it to scrub the toilet and tossed it into the trash with a glee that was almost scary. 

“Go get it, Ken,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Shelley’s waiting in the car and I don’t feel like getting caught in a ton of traffic.”

“Get out, Joe. I told you, I don’t have it.”

“Come on, Ken. I’m not in the mood for games right now.”

Loki caught her by the wrist and gently drew her around behind him. “She said she doesn’t have it and she’’s .”

“This really doesn’t concern you,” Joe glared at him, “and if you don’t back off, you’re gonna be sorry.”

“Am I? I think not.” Loki never raised his voice, but a flicker of fear shone in Joe’s eyes. 

Still, Joe was nothing if not stubborn. “Yeah? You think not, do you?”

Loki didn’t let him finish, but grabbed him by the throat and spun him about so his back was to the door. Joe gasped, “Let go of me, you son of a bitch.”

“Don’t hurt him,” McKenna broke in, grabbing Loki's right arm to try to break his hold. “You’ll get in trouble and he is not worth it."

“I’m not going to hurt him. I’m going to help him leave,” Loki replied evenly, shaking her off as he backed Joe across the room and shoved him out the door to send him reeling backward into the hallway. He hit the far wall with a crash and slid down in a daze, while Loki calmly shut the door on his glazed expression.

A flick of Loki's left hand, and the lock clicked into place, and he turned back to her, his eyes still cold and hard. “That is the man you lived with?”

“Well, he wasn’t always such a jerk,” she replied, sinking onto the arm of the sofa. 

“I find that difficult to believe.” 

“Yeah, well… he wasn’t.” She didn’t know why she was defending him, except for it didn’t say much for her, that she spent three years of her life accepting Joe’s bossy, overbearing, stubborn ways and for what? So he could dump her for his perfect Shelley, who’d he’d been screwing for months before he’d come clean about it?

Every last bit of happiness drained from her as she reached up to rub her forehead. Up until now, it’d been a pleasant day. She’d actually enjoyed the errands, enjoyed shopping, even enjoyed watching Loki put away his body weight in diner food. And now? Now she just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.

Loki put the groceries in the kitchen. “Where do you keep things?”

“I’ll get it.” She sighed as she pushed up from the sofa arm and trudged into the kitchen to join him. As she was putting things in the fridge, she caught sight of the bottle of white wine chilling on the bottom rack on the door. When she finished, she plucked the bottle from the shelf and set it on the counter. “Want a glass?”

“I think we could both use one. Where are the glasses?”

“In the dining room, overhead rack.”

He left, returning with two red wine glasses, but she didn’t care. She plucked the cork from the neck and emptied the bottle into both glasses. It was a Pinot Grigio, light and crisp, and after his first sip, Loki smiled. “Now that’s not quite as good as the coffee, but better than those potato-things I had at breakfast.”

She grinned. “Hash browns. They were hash browns and I’m amazed you had room for them.”

“What will we do for our evening meal?”

“I can cook, you know. I just didn’t have anything for breakfast.” She swallowed another mouthful of wine. A slight buzz settled over her. Perfect. “Beef or chicken?”

“Pheasant, if you have it? Or some wild boar, perhaps?”

“I don’t have them, Loki. Beef or chicken?”

“Surprise me.”

She smiled at him over one shoulder. “There’s another bottle of Cavit on the wine rack. It’s just below the glass rack.”

While he went to retrieve it, she lit the broiler, seasoned the flank steak she’d bought, and got it ready to go in the oven. He came back with the bottle. “A corkscrew?”

“Top drawer, left side. And I have to admit, I’m amazed you know what a corkscrew it.”

“We do open bottles in Asgard, you know.”

“You don’t just use magic?”

He grinned. “At times.”

She glanced up at him. When he smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkled in a way that was really cute. Especially since the bruise was fading from beneath his left eye. “I thought you were going to really hurt him,” she confessed, tearing off a sheet of aluminum foil to line the broiler pan.

“Joe? You should have let me.” Loki expertly popped the cork from the bottle and refilled both glasses. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“Oh, I know. I’m totally a prize.” She looked over and grinned at him. 

But he didn't smile back. “Why do you say it as if you don't mean it?”

“Because I don't meant it. And besides, ” she set the steak on the foil and bent to open the oven door. The pan slid in easily and by the time she straightened up, the delicious scent of garlic and pepper wafted up from the broiler, “he wasn’t always a jerk. Not at first.”

“He was trying to win you then. It’s unfortunate he didn’t keep trying to win you, because he should have been doing just that.”

She gave him a look. “Is that so?”

“You have a good heart. People mistake kindness for weakness, and that’s unfortunate, which I know sounds strange, coming from me, but a hint of kindness can go a very long way, you know.” He lifted the wineglass to his lips. 

There was something in his voice, a hint of wistfulness, perhaps, that suggested he had personal experience with being shown only hints of kindness. Sympathy swirled through her. He was a villain, he’d actually killed, and yet if she didn't already know what he’d done, she’d never believe it if someone told her right then. Aside from the way he’d handled Joe, and his arrogant demeanor the previous day, Loki had been almost been the perfect gentleman.  

“Thank you.” She set down her glass. “Salad or frozen veggies?”

“Salad.”

“Good. Fixings are in the fridge. Go crazy.”

He laughed. “I should have known.”

****

After dinner, McKenna cleared away the table, loaded the dishwasher, grabbed the bottle of wine and gestured to the living room. Loki followed, smiling as she curled up on the sofa and tucked her feet beneath her. He was finally a little more comfortable in the jeans, although they were a little snug in the crotch, which she insisted was how they were supposed to fit. Not quite as comfortable as the clothes he was used to, but definitely cooler.

“Now,” she was saying, swirling the wine in her glass, “tell me about this bargain and the—” she paused, her forehead wrinkling—“the Chitauri. Did I say that right?”

“You did.”

“Good. Tell me why they’re out for your head on a platter.”

He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, trying hard to keep his gaze off her legs. They were tanned and shapely, and rather nice to look at, but this was neither the time nor the place for any type of those thoughts. He needed her help and that was it. She’d had her heart broken recently, although he was certain she’d never admit to it, and she was vulnerable and right now, he felt no urge to play on that vulnerability.

The Midgardians were a curious lot. They warred with one another over the most petty of disagreements and thought nothing of slaughtering one another in mass numbers. They lied. They cheated. They abused one another with unspeakable violence. And that violence was kept to human alone—they were even cruel to those far weaker than themselves. How they hadn’t exterminated themselves yet was a miracle.

He’d hoped to rule them, to bring them peace if nothing else. Unfortunately, thanks to his brother—his adoptive brother—and his group of friends who called themselves The Avengers, that hadn’t happened and now, here he was, relying on one Midgardian woman to keep his head firmly attached to his shoulders. He had to be mad.

No, not mad. Desperate.

He sipped the warm wine in his glass. It made him feel relaxed, more so than he’d felt in a very long time. Relaxed. At ease. Comfortable, even. But could he trust her? He thought so. She wore her heart on her sleeve and seemed quite guileless. It was easy to see how a man like that Joe could simply take and take all he wanted from her, and she would let him. 

Normally, he would have sneered at her perceived weakness where that dishonorable Midgardian was concerned, but he felt no such revulsion now. There was something about McKenna that begged to be cared for, a part of her that wanted only to be loved that she couldn’t hide no matter how hard she tried.

“I’m not so certain I can explain them. They come from nowhere and everywhere and can look like anything they please.”

“That sounds horrible.” 

“To make a long story short, after I was—shall we say—deposed as king of Asgard, I was exiled and in this exile is where I encountered The Other.” As she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “Don’t ask me to explain, for I cannot. I made a bargain with him. The Tesseract for control of the Chitauri. I would,” he paused, because no matter how he explained it, she was bound to be angered by it, “rule Midgard as your king with the help of the Chitauri armies and in return, I would hand them the Tesseract.”

“Tesseract?”

“An energy source. A neverending energy source and valuable to all the realms.” He drained his glass and set it on the table next to him. “And quite simply, I failed.”

“The Hulk.”

“Among a few others.” His back ached at the mere mention of the green beast that had grabbed him by the ankles and repeatedly whipped him back and forth until he was, as she pointed out, buried three inches into stone and steel. Not pleasant. Not pleasant at all. “Including my brother.”

“Close family.”

“He is not my family. I was stolen from my family as an infant and raised an Asgardian. But I’m not. Not as Thor and Odin, and even my mother, were.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you then?”

“I’m a Jötunn, a Frost Giant.”

“You don’t look like a giant.” 

He smiled. “No, I don’t. But I assure you, I am.” He held up his right hand, gave a flick of his fingers, and snow started falling over her.

“What the hell…?” She laughed, setting down her glass and raising her hand, palm up, to catch the gently drifting flakes. “How did you do that?”

“My mother. She was quite the skilled illusionist.” 

Snow clung to McKenna's golden hair and she smiled at him as she stuck out her tongue to catch a flake on it. Such an innocent gesture, and yet, his hand went still and the snow stopped. 

She sat back, brushing the snow from her leg. “Cold. Now, you say she was a skilled illusionist. What happened to her?”

“She died. Was murdered, actually.”

“Oh my God…” Her eyes went round and wide with sympathy he knew to be genuine. “How awful. I’m so sorry.”

He bobbed his head. “I thank you and if you don’t mind, I’d rather not speak of it.” He tried like mad to never think of what happened to Frigga, for each time he did, his rage bubbled to the surface and threatened to devour him. She wasn’t his mother, but she was the closest thing he knew to a mother and the one person he trusted. She was the one person he loved. 

“No, I understand. I lost my own mother not too long ago, although it wasn’t unexpected or violent. She was sick. Brain cancer. And it was a long, slow—” Her voice hitched and she pressed her lips together as her eyes glimmered. Tears. He could almost see her heartbreak.

He moved his fingers again to make it snow a little more, but she didn’t smile this time. So he moved them with a little more speed and created a snowball in the palm of his hand, which he handed to her. “Throw it at me.”

“What?”

“Throw it at me.”

She took the snowball and lobbed it at him. It hit him in the chest and exploded into a shower of white-winged butterflies that sparkled as if encrusted with diamonds as they fluttered all about the room. She couldn't keep the amazement from her voice as she murmured, “How did you do that?” 

“I already told you.”

“They’re so pretty.”

“Do you prefer white? Or perhaps purple?” He didn’t wait for her response, but wiggled his fingers and the butterflies sparkled like rich amethysts. “Perhaps green?” Sparkling emeralds darted about the room.

“Perhaps multicolor?” The swarm became a kaleidoscope of brilliant, shimmering butterflies. Then, with a wave of his hand, they all vanished. “And to answer the rest of your question, I thought everything was as it should be. Asgard believes me to be dead. I assume the other realms do as well. But then, the Chitauri appeared. I couldn’t take the chance I might be discovered, and since I couldn’t access the Bifrost, I had to find other, less secure means to take my leave of Asgard. And that’s when I crashed into your flat.”

“Why did they believe you to be dead?” 

McKenna refilled her wine glass and as she reached to fill his, he held up a hand. “Thank you, but no.” She set the bottle down and took her glass as he added, “Because I let them think so. Thor believes I sacrificed myself on Svartalfheim and I let them all think it. I avenged my mother’s murder and it was either let everyone believe I was truly dead or spend an eternity in Asgard’s dungeons.”

“Because of what happened in New York?”

He nodded. “Because of what happened in New York.”

“And yet, here you are and I’m not dead. Amazing.” Her words softened, running into one another as the wine hit her hard.

“I’ve no cause to kill you.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She sank back against the arm of the sofa. “Our clothing suits you, Mr. Loki. Jeans look wonderful on you.”

“I think you’ve had a bit too much wine, Miss…” He frowned. “Have you a surname?”

“Carlin.”

“Miss Carlin.” He smiled as she fought to keep her eyes open. He rose from the table and slid his arms beneath her, one under her knees, the other about her waist, and lifted. She was not quite as light as she looked, but she wasn’t exactly heavy, either. 

She didn’t fight him, but looped an arm about his neck, murmuring, “The room is spinning…” as he carried her back to her room and balanced her against his hip as he freed one hand to tug down her blankets.

He shifted her back, and bent to gently place her on the bed’s left side. Her hold on him tightened, and she whispered, “Please stay…”

“No. That wouldn’t be wise,” he replied, reaching up to peel her hand from his shoulder, where her grip was like iron. But he managed to free himself and he straightened, pulling the sheet and blanket up to her chin. “Perhaps another night, McKenna. But not this one.”

Her eyes were already closed, a breathy sigh floating up from her lips as she snuggled down into the pillow. Cinder hopped up to curl into a ball on her other side and Loki stood there for a while, he knew not how long, and watched her sleep.

In sleep, she looked so young. The day’s cares and worries faded from her face. Her blonde hair spilled across the pillow, glinting in the glow of the nightlight plugged into the outlet next to  her bed. She was a lovely creature. As beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside.

“Sleep well, McKenna Carlin. Sleep well.”

[chainsofaether]

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

She ALWAYS put it in the same place. So where was it?

She could feel the panic building slowly in her breast. Breathing was a little harder thanks to the panic and the wet air from her shower. Slowly she pressed her palm in to the countertop and took a deep breath. One breath. Two. Three. She was counting along with each.

The panic subsided and she started looking again this time throwing her mind back to just before her shower. What had she done? She went through the motions. Setting it down in it's usual place, adjusting the mirror to look at her naked self. Then what? She glanced to the side, then down at the towel wrapped around her body.

Ah. She'd pulled the towel off the counter and then...

She ducked under the counter and finished in the dark for a few moments before her fingers brushed against cold chain. Looping thin chain around her finger before pulling it out in to the light.

Long gold chain ended with a clear gem, no a crystal, that shimmered in a light that most couldn't see. She checked it over for any damage. No change, Of course. It had survived all these years and she'd added her own magic to the pendent damage was impossible from a small fall.

Still it was comforting in her hand, and quickly back around her neck. She really only took it off because it tend to get tangled in her hair when she bathed. Aside from that it was sure to be on her person some where, her mothers necklace.

---

So OOC answer is the her mother necklace. She keeps it on her person pretty much always short of bathing in her own bath. Beyond that she just tolerates it getting in her way. Though more often then not it tucked below her clothes to keep it out of the way and out of sight.

Why? Well it being a memento of her mother is one reason but more practically, and Nyxathe is nothing if not practical, is that it's a crystal that houses a specific band of aether. Like a Grimore made by an alchemist it's marked by it's maker. Well marked by Nyxathe. She pressed a specific pattern on it as a reference point and then warded the entire necklace to protect it from tampering.

The value of the crystal is that it lets her compare her personal aether with the baseline provided. In normal situation they should match. But that baseline isn't actually her natural balance and so over time and because of her experiments it tends to shift. The baseline allows her to know what she needs to do to push it back to 'normal'.

As you can see above she tends to get very upset when she can't find it. If someone, say, stole it she'd probably go from panic to rage really quick. Of course hiding it from her is basically impossible since she knows it's aetheric signature better then she knows her own body. She knows her body quiet well as a note. Just a matter of her brain catching up to her emotions to remember that.

[umbralsound-xiv]

Lost Property.

I managed to persuade her to take a much needed bath. I'd watch him in the meantime, not that i expected him to wake. Fleetingly, i had made my way into the company house at the early bells of the morning, picked the lock to their room and took the first folded clothes i could find.

Sayuri Aoki carefully drags herself onto the edge of the bathtub, exhaling sharply. A hand reaches for a towel kept nearby, which is slowly draped around her body as she slips out of the tub completely. She halts there, raising a hand up to rub at her own face while she takes a small moment to rest.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…He's still sleeping. I put your clothes near your feet. I… Had to pick the lock to your room. Apologies." She continues to look at Eir, giving Sayuri her privacy while she dressed. "…He's going to be upset when he wakes up. I… Think he might need some new houseplants…"

Sayuri Aoki‘s ear flickered softly as Bexy’s voice reached her, a soft breath leaving her. “.. Thank you. I-.. personally don’t mind...” She sets a hand upon the edge of the tub and leans down carefully, picking up the clothes left by it to begin dressing herself. “.. That-.. should.. be fine..”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…The smallest of worries, considering. I'm… I'm just happy you're home." Bexy smiles, though unseen from the chair. "…How are you feeling?"

Sayuri Aoki settles the towel upon the edge of the bathtub, her hands moving to tug her yukata shut before she ties the bow a touch awkwardly. ".. Less in pain, but.. not completely free of it." She pushes away from the tub and approaches, steps slow and careful. ".. How are you?"

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Better, now you're back. Now you're -here-." She emphasises the word, seeming a little more settled for seeing Sayuri looking more like herself. "…I know you're hurt. If you need help with anything for your injuries… You need only ask. Neoma says she's but a linkpearl call away." She lightly pats a small wad of clothes on her lap. "…I brought him something to wear, too. But we need not move him too much until he's ready. He has blankets, until then."

Sayuri Aoki‘s hands tug at her sleeves, ears remaining flat and gaze lower than usual. “.. It’s good to be home.” She spoke quietly. “..I-.. will be.. fine. My injuries.. were not as bad as Eir’s.” She frowns weakly, letting her eyes settle on Eir’s unconscious body. Her nails sink into her sleeve, pulling in it a little more sharply.

Injuries. Scars and scrapes in our skin mean nothing compared to what happens inside. I know she will heal physically in time, but i know that this too, is not what plagues her.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I have no doubt you will be fine. But what about right now? Your injuries… Sayuri. You've been injured before. That's not what i'm worried about." Bexy extends a hand for comfort. "…Talk to me, Sayuri. I'm here."

Sayuri Aoki frees her sleeve in favour of reaching for Bexy’s offered hand, intending to squeeze it tightly. She draws a deeper breath, yet hesitates.. Before opting to actually speak. “.. Up until Vex spoke with me for the first time, I thought Eir was dead.. Even as she took me through the compound.. I wasn’t sure if it was a lie or not.” Her frown deepened. “..They-.. They made a show of killing him.. I-.. I held him.. in my arms.. Watched the life bleed from him.. and I don’t.. know how he survived..”

...I... ...The last time she saw Eir, was when she believed he had died. I... Did not think they would allow to see eachother much in there, if at all. But to make such a display of killing him. ...Bastards. All of them. I... ...I'm going to make time to see Laurent again, and soon.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Gods…" Bexy whispers. Her hand is squeezed in turn, looking from Sayuri over to Eir as she spoke of him. "…Vex spoke with me too. I'd heard conflicting stories about Eir, but i suppose it depends what those i'd spoken with knew. Some thought him dead. Others, alive. Vex told me he lived. I… I'm glad i took the chance to trust her. I'm glad he's still alive."

Sayuri Aoki‘s grip of Bexy’s hand notably tightens, features pulling into a small expression of pain as her aether stirrs with her increasing upset. “.. I spent.. most of my time in there.. thinking he was gone..” Tears build up in her eyes, yet she blinks them away. “..I-.. I h-hadn’t seen him.. until l-last night..”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I… I did not know. I… Don't know how you were kept in there. What contact you had, or were allowed, or what they granted you." Bexy slowly leads Sayuri to the side of the bed, to allow her to sit more comfortably. "…It's been two moons since you were gone. Two long, difficult moons. For both of us…. For… All of us."

Sayuri Aoki moves over to the bed, slowly sinking down to sit at the edge of it. “.. Initially.. In cells opposite each other.. Until they made the scene..” Her lips tug downwards. “.. I could already feel that they had done something to my aether the first sun.. But I could mostly force myself through the pain.. I fought them, every moment I got..”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…You never gave up. I knew you wouldn't. That's not like you. Give them hell, i said… Though it was more than a cycle ago, and in a much different situation." She gently squeezes Sayuri's hand in her own. "…I too carved my own path. Distanced myself from the company through fear of retaliation. Killed… I… I killed so many people, Sayuri…" The realisation of Bexy's words seems to dawn on her, a little striken for speaking it aloud.

...So many people. So many. I... ...How many people did i kill? I... I can't... Remember. No. I'll remember. I'll write them down like the rest. I've barely had a moment to... To... I'll write for them soon.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. It was.. but I didn't forget it.." Sayuri returns a squeeze of her own. ".. And I am thankful that you did." She whispers. "..I-.. I killed whoever I got the chance to.. except.. two.." A brief pause lingers, as Sayuri's head lowers. "..One.. because I couldn't.. I lost that battle.. The other.. because both Vex and Eir stopped me.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…A friend, then. I know there must be others in there. We let two live yestersun. I hope they survive. Make good choices." Her gaze traces behind her, to Eir, who remains in a state of unconsciousness, only the quiet rise and fall of his chest to indicate he lives still. "…Did… You kill anyone notable? I… I don't think i did. Not really."

Sayuri Aoki: “.. A friend. A Seeker. I-.. think his name was D’khoreh..” She pauses, ears lowering. “.. Other than two of the three who captured Eir, and one who collected me? .. No. Not.. really..” Her brows furrow, gaze lifting up to Bexy. “.. Something.. did happen.. When we were breaking out..”

...These names i will keep in my thoughts. By no means is any of this over. We have her back, but they have Vex, still. I pray she's still alive. ...And even if she's not, something inside me isn't content for only bringing Sayuri home. I want to hurt them, still, for all they have done. I want to keep killing.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…About Vex? I… I heard she didn't make it. But she's alive, yes? We… We can still save her?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. No, with.. One of.. Grym's people.. I've been trying to wrap my head around it but.. I can't.." Sayuri's brows furrow, a slow breath leaving her. ".. She collapsed when her collar was activated.. I fear what's in store for her.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…If she lives, i will find her." Bexy promises, settling her attention back on Sayuri. "…What happened?"

Sayuri Aoki: “We.. we were so close to the exit, and the person we ran into..” She pauses, ears flattening. “.. A Sea Wolf. Ketenblaet. He-.. was the first one I met.. When X’aoki gave me over to them..” The memory causes Sayuri’s lips to tug downwards further. “.. He.. always seemed to be close with Grym, but.. He just watched us.. Their pearls went off and.. I assume they were asked about our whereabouts, because his response was.. That he hadn’t seen us..?” Confusion grips her anew as she recalls the scenario, brows furrowing. “.. He nodded to the door and just.. left.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…He just let you go? I… I'm glad he did, but… Why? Strange, but… There must be a reason, yes? It isn't as though you are a new face to him, if he was present the first time you were there…"

Sayuri Aoki nodded slightly. ".. I don't know. He.. collected me. Him, Arnkel and.. someone called Avront.. But he just.. let us leave. And I, just.. do not know why.."

...Something about the whole notion of such a figure just letting them... Leave, does not sit well with me. I can only think of a few reasons why someone would do such a thing. Either... They are confident they can get them back, or... ...They never wanted them to begin with.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I don't know. It's a little unsettling… Like there is some ulterior motive or some such." Bexy draws her lips into a line, quietly releasing Sayuri's hand after a small squeeze as she moves to stand, settling the small pile of clothes from her lap beside Sayuri. "…I thought you might like to… Do something about his hair. Neoma's cleaned what she can, mostly wounds to better heal and bandage them."

Bexy Amalaryssia plucks up a bowl from the foot of the bed, walking to the bathtub to collect water. "…For him to look more like himself, when he wakes."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Vex seemed kinda puzzled too.. But we weren't exactly given a moment to ask.." She returns a light squeeze as Bexy stands, her head turning to look in Eir's direction. ".. That'd.. be nice.." She murmured, leaning herself back a touch. Her hand reached for Eir's face, gently cupping his cheek and brushing her thumb over it.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I know you're worried. But there's… Something else." Bexy hitches the bowl of water on her hip, walking closer to set it back on the foot of the bed, pulling out some cloths and a hairbrush. "…Something else plagues you. Something more than worry."

Sayuri Aoki peered over to Bexy, letting a brow slowly raise. ".. Guilt? Anger?" She exhales. ".. There's.. too much to pick out.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Anger i can understand. You have much to be angry about. Guilt?" Bexy soaks one of the cloths, wringing it out to offer to Sayuri. "…Because he was taken?"

Sayuri Aoki's gaze lowers, her hand reaching out to accept the offered cloth. ".. He wouldn't have been taken if he wasn't with me. He wouldn't have suffered all of -this-.." She sighs, ears flattening as she reaches the cloth over to Eir's face, gently beginning to wipe the dirt and grime away.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…And maybe he wouldn't be. But that doesn't mean that this is your fault, Sayuri." Bexy instead shifts the cover to retrieve one of his hands, cleaning using her own cloth.

...Eir surely would have been fine, should he have not grown close to Sayuri. That is an unignorable truth. But she would have never been so happy. It's a selfish thing to think, equating his safety for the sake of her happiness, but i think it worth it, even if no one else agrees. I would like to think Eir does, even if he is not awake enough to hear this conversation.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Would you be without him, even knowing that this happened?"

Sayuri Aoki shook her head gently. "..I.. do not want to be without him.." She murmurs, shoulders slouching. ".. I want to tear apart those who hurt him.. I want to wipe that annoying bloody grin of Vairg's stupid face again.. I want to grant Q'kura a slow, painful death.." Her body rocked back and forth slightly, a slight hiss of pain passing her lips in response to her increasing upset. Her gaze locks upon Eir's face, as she carefully and affectionately cleans it.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I thought not. You went to that hell for him. I would struggle to believe that, after everything, you would wish to be anywhere but by his side." Her brow knits at the blood that stuck to his skin, wiping it away. "…Vairg. I heard that name, some, in the people i ran into. The other i don't recognise."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Guilt for leaving Vex behind, too.. But there was.. nothing we could truly do." Sayuri exhales a slow breath, sliding the wipe down towards Eir's neck once his face has been cleaned. ".. Q'kura is the Seeker who lead Eir's capture." She explains, before her lips curl downwards. "..Vairg.. is the bloody bastard who hurt Eir the most. The one who made him scream before I left for Thanalan.." Her gaze directs towards Eir's side, ears flattening. "..The asshole who nearly killed Eir.." She whispered. “.. The one I lost in a battle against.. But I bit his bloody fingers off..” She grumbled a touch more bitterly.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Names i will listen for if i find myself in the right places." Bexy sighs quietly, nodding as she listened; until her attention is taken. "---You bit his fingers off?" Bexy asks, incredulously, though her expression is a grin which she quickly dismisses. "…Your quarry then, should he be unfortunate to cross us. You won't lose to him a second time."

...She bit his fingers off. I... ...The last time i was in captivity. Not with Y'vhala. Lividine. I... Do not know how many cycles ago, now... I remember i... Did the same... I... I try not to think about it too much.

Sayuri Aoki nodded slowly. ".. I did. Two of them." She shifts the way she sits to be able to face Bexy while still tending to Eir, one hand resting gently upon his cheek. ".. He's a Viera, with black hair and green and gold eyes. Cockiest grin you can picture if he gets over the fact that he lost fingers to me." Her head shifts into a small shake. ".. Next time I see him, I won't be in the same state as I was then.. He won't be leaving that fight alive.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Another Viera. No, i can't imagine you would let him live after all he has done. I certainly wouldn't." Having wiped down what she can without being too intrusive, Bexy shuffles further up the bed, brush in hand. "…I can't imagine brushing hair will be an easy feat, considering. But we can tend what we can before he wakes. Rebraid some of his hair at the very least."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. No. I will not." She mumbled, moving the cloth away and setting it aside. A hand raised to dig into her own half-wet locks, fingers awkwardly combing through them with a great struggle, in desperate need of a proper brushing herself. ".. I never was good at braiding hair.. Eir always did it for me.."

...The braid she wears upon going into battle is always by his hands. There's some strange comfort that brings me, for some reason. That he knows where she's going, even consents it in some strange way, for doing this.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I… Never knew. That's quite sweet…" Bexy smiles a little faintly, shuffling up to work free some of the tangled hair from one of Eir's braids. "…You always said he slept a lot. I can't imagine he's had so much. Neither of you." She lightly nudges Sayuri, glancing up to her. "…Take one of the others. I'll show you."

Sayuri Aoki shuffles over, gently reaching her hands over to collect a section of Eir's hair, gently combing through it with her fingers to untangle it. "..No, not.. really." A faint sigh left her. "..I.. don't know how many suns it lasted, but I ended up just.. chained to the wall, because despite limiting my ice.. I continued to attack people." Her lips tug. ".. A woman came in to give me.. a poor excuse of food, good to know that hasn't improved.." She mumbled sarcastically. ".. She was there when I was a kid.. I clawed her, back then.. Scarred her, even. She taunted me, revealed she had been the archer who shot after Eir during his capture..” Her gaze lifts a touch, to look up at Bexy. “.. She had a dagger strapped to her boot, I tore it from her.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…And how many people did you kill on that particular outburst?" Bexy asks. It isn't concern, it's genuine intrigue and perhaps… Some flicker of amusement. "You gave them more than hell. They'll regret taking him, if they don't already." Bexy combs through his hair, sectioning it out with her fingers. "…And they would be fools to try again. They won't succeed a second time." A darkened look washes over her features. "I won't let them."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Six." She states, very matter-of-factly. ".. My arm and ribs were already broken at this point, I downed her and held the knife to her throat and make her call for a healer.. Then killed her once she had." She leans herself back a touch, gaze flickering up to the ceiling in thought. ".. Overall, I think I killed.. Twelve?" Her brows furrow, a small shrug following as her gaze lowered once more. She watched as Bexy began to section Eir's hair, slowly repeating the action on the side she herself held. “.. And if I have it my way, their hell isn’t over..” Sayuri’s features shift ever so slightly, into something notably colder. “.. And considering we still have Vex to retrieve.. It -will- be my way. Even if you do not let me join it.” Her gaze lift to Bexy, softening once more.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Our way, Sayuri. We will go for Vex when you are recovered, but that means you -have- to look after yourself until then. I can't imagine she'll be able to get out of there easily, or any time soon…" She trails, finishing the braid with a content hum, watching as Sayuri completed her own.

Sayuri Aoki nods slowly, working on the braid a little longer on her side, trying to make it as neat as possible. ".. Are you sure we can wait that long?" She asks, tying the braid together. ".. I don't know what her fate will be, and I dread to even try to think it.. Considering she can't even protect herself if she tried.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…She's survived there for fourteen cycles. She seemed confident enough. But i will look for her soon enough… Find more of them to talk, if i have to. This isn't over." Bexy moves to settle behind Sayuri, the brush brought in front of her as some quiet question of whether she wanted help with her own hair.

Sayuri Aoki's ears droop, her brows furrowing. "..Fourteen cycles.." She repeats, offering a small nod to Bexy's mute question. ".. I hadn't seen Vex until she broke me out, and.. she just.. seemed much younger than I initially thought she was.. If she's been there for fourteen cycles, she can't have been much older than I was when she was taken.." Sayuri frowns weakly.

Bexy Amalaryssia slowly begins to pull the brush through Sayuri's hair, combing through the tougher parts to loosen them with her fingers. "…A child, i would wager, when they took her. They killed her sister when they did. It makes sense… That she wanted so badly for our reunion. I can't bring her sister back, but i'll get her freedom. It's the least i can do." She continues to comb through Sayuri's hair, brow knit at the stubbornness of it.

...Do they always take them so young? It... Is a wonder, Sayuri or Vex turned out the way they did, surrounded by such terrible people. But they have room for compassion, still.

Sayuri Aoki's ears pin back as the brush begins to comb through her hair, a sharp exhale leaving her nose in return but she otherwise stays still. ".. In front of her..?" Sayuri's brows furrowed, her hands settling in her lap and tugging at the skirt of her yukata. ".. For some reason, I keep thinking that nothing can make them worse than what they already are in my head.. And I keep being proven wrong.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…In front of her. From what she told me. I have met many a terrible person in my cycles, but they are a particular kind of horrible. The more of them dead, the better." Another pull of the brush through Sayuri's hair… And Bexy hesitates. "…One moment." Abruptly, she stands, and makes way out of the room; footsteps heard towards her own.

...I remembered, any other time we have been close as of recent, the glimmer of silver around her neck, suspiciously absent now. I have kept the things i know are theirs in safekeeping, and wished her not to be without her beloved necklace for a moment longer.

Sayuri Aoki frowns. ".. Bastards.." She hisses. Her ears twitch weakly as Bexy stops and leaves her side, her head tilting ever so slightly with a raised brow.

Bexy Amalaryssia swiftly returns with something in her hands. Resettling herself beside Sayuri, she gently takes one of her hands… And into it, places the crescent moon necklace she was so rarely seen without. "…I thought you might want this back. It's yours, in case you're wondering. Not a replacement." Her other hand unfurls, to reveal Eir's earrings. "And… I wager he might want these back, too."

Sayuri Aoki's hand slowly closes around the crescent moon, a soft gasp immediately leaving her as tears line her eyes. "..I-.. I thought.. it was gone.." She whispers, clutching it tightly. ".. How.. did you get it..?" Her gaze falls onto the earrings, her ears drooping and a soft 'oh' leaving her.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…One of the first people i saught out was… An old fence of mine, on the off chance he'd heard anything. I had to start somewhere. Knowing i enjoyed my jewelry, he attempted to sell to me. Needless to say, i purchased everything he had. There's more, much more of it… It's on the shrine outside this room if you ever want to look through, i'm unsure if anything else belongs to either of you. But these pieces, for certain… I knew were yours. I have the twin to Eir's other chakram, too."

Sayuri Aoki nodded gently, raising the necklace up to gently clasp it around her neck, letting a hand move down to close around it. Her gaze falls onto the earrings once more. "..Those earrings mean.. so much to him.. Thank you."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I saw. I… Never realised that Eir was short for something." She glances over her shoulder, offering up the earrings to Sayuri. "…You should do the honors. It doesn't feel like my place." A smaller, smile then. "…It would seem the Gods favoured them getting back to you. I am surprised… I never seem to have such luck."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Svangeir." She speaks softly. ".. He.. doesn't use that anymore. Just Eir." She accepts the earrings and slowly shuffles back over to Eir - gently seeking to clasp them to his ears. "..Back where they belong." She murmured, before leaning down to place her lips against his forehead in a soft peck before leaning herself back up. Her gaze returns to Bexy, a brief pause lingered. ".. I lost my faith in the Gods a long time ago.. Yet, the few times I have prayed since then.. Something has happened..” She raised a hand to lightly scratch at her own neck. “.. Last cycle, after the first round on the Locket.. I prayed to Azyema that I’d find you at her stone.. And I did. And now.. I prayed again, begging for protection.. To the Kami, first.. Then to Azyema once more.. And my punishment reached it’s end when her name left my lips..” A sharp exhale left her, before she continues. “.. A second time, when I felt utterly alone.. And someone ran into Grym’s office to announce he had seen -you-, killing their people.”

...And there they are. Back where they belong; the necklace with her, and the earrings with him. Perhaps the Gods are listening, or at the very least, Azeyma is. ...I'll visit her properly soon. Bring her all the gold that does not belong to them which i bought from the fence. Decorate her shrine with all the colours of sunlight.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Hah! Then i must have her favor after all! And so too do you, it would seem. She will not forsake her children. Not even after all i have done… And she still listens to me, when i ask." She turns her head, to regard Eir, and then Sayuri in turn. "…Back where you both belong. More or less. I wager you'll feel a little more comfortable back in your room at the company house, but it was… Better, i felt, to bring you here, first."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. One can hope." Sayuri offered a small, weary smile. ".. Perhaps, once the time is right.. I will bring her an offering." She gazes back at Eir, before looking over to Bexy once more. ".. This is your home, Bexy. I feel more than comfortable here."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…We'll both go. With any luck, one of them will be stupid enough to approach us, and we'll make -them- into an offering." She grins, a little too wide, catching Sayuri's weary expression. "…Have you slept at -all- since you returned, Sayuri…?"

Sayuri Aoki: ".. If such an offering is acceptable, I suppose I already made one in her name.. As the next person I saw after praying for her protection was one I killed.." She exhaled a weary breath, slowly shaking her head. ".. I laid down next to Eir and rested.. but I couldn't sleep."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Then even rest will do a little good. Sleep, too. I can tell you're tired, Sayuri. You know where i am, if you need me." Bexy leans in, to wrap her arms around Sayuri, giving a gentle squeeze.

...I know that weary look. The kind when you fight sleep, instead of succumb to it. She has to rest sometime... Gods know i have struggled to do so, too. I expect nightmares to wake her. But we cannot stay awake forever. ...I too, have found it difficult to rest...

Sayuri Aoki: ".. I've been in a constant state of tired these past moons." Sayuri flashed a weak, pained smile - her arms swiftly coiling around Bexy to return the squeeze. "..But you're right. I should try to rest.."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…You should. I'm sure he'd appreciate the comfort, too. Even if he's not awake for it just yet." A fainter smile as Bexy releases her, standing to brush down her skirt, and settle the hairbrush on the chair. "I'll check on you in the morning, unless you call for me before. I'm only a room away."

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Hopefully, he can feel my presence still." Her arms uncoil from Bexy as she stands, offering a gentle nod her way. ".. And I will be here."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "He can. I'm sure of it. Goodnight, sister." She spoke warmly, glancing over them for a little longer before retreating to her room.

Sayuri Aoki: ".. Good night, sister."

...Back where they belong. Together. I won't tell her of the tears i shed, upon returning to my room. I realise now, how afraid i truly was through that ordeal. ...That i'd never be called sister again, or speak the word to someone i meant it to.

[unfamiliar-ghostly-system]

Adding on as a Canadian who's been to the adolescent Psychiatric Unit in hospital twice. Here is my **personal experience** and some notes.

The first time I was taken to the hospital by the RCMP due to a hotline and the second time I was taken in for self harm (not by police). When being taken in by RCMP I didn't have to wait in the ER sitting room at all (where the clerk, triage nurse, and seating area is), but after that the process was the same. There was a bit of waiting. The first time I didn't get to the actual psych ward until about two in the morning, and the second time I had to spend overnight in the ER unit. If a bed isn't open you will sleep in the ER and spend the day in the unit.

When you go from the ER to the psych ward they will take you in a wheelchair even if you don't need it (a security guard pushed me each time).

My hospital didn't have an actual youth psychiatrist so we spoke through Telehealth (basically face timed). A nurse was in the room at the same time.

Our ward had levels. Level one you couldn't leave the ward at all, you had to wear the scrubs*, and had more frequent overnight checkups. Level two you could go for walks with a nurse and wear your own clothes, and level three you could have day passes. [*Velcro scrubs with no ties at all. We also didn't have grippy socks but really weird booties...]

We had a 17 year old smoker asked if she wanted patches [so even if you're not old enough to smoke they should ask].

There was a lot of arts and crafts, honestly that's what we did most of the day. You can't be alone with scissors or sharpeners, and if you're using something with staples like a notebook they basically make you promise not to take them out. Some people report not being allowed to use pencils or pens by themselves either.

I was misgendered and told to wait until I was 18 to be transsexual. I also had a nurse tell me she didn't believe me when I told her no one in my current family was abusing me... This isn't to scare anyone away from going to the hospital during a crisis, but so that you aren't surprised if something like this does happen to you.

I would also like to bring up that in *my experience* the hospital is mostly to stabilize you during a crisis. We weren't offered traditional counseling, we had check-ins with the nurse and spoke to the psychiatrist, and the main focus was deescalation. If you're not in a crisis or getting near a crisis I would highly recommend walk in mental health clinics, outpatient programs, or such. And if you're not sure, text or call a hotline.

considering visiting a psychiatric hospital, inpatient behavioral health unity, or other mental health crisis center? here's some tips about what to expect

i've been inpatient about 6 - 7 times now in various areas of the country and i thought i'd write down a few things on what to expect whenever you visit these kinds of facilities in the United States. i have gone in for psychotic and dissociative episodes, as well as suicidal ones. i cannot write about the experience in other countries unfortunately, this is my own personal experience. note that i can't tell you everything about your facility but i can tell you what i've experienced personally that generally applies to these kinds of places

when trying to get admitted to generally need to go to the ER first to tell them you are having a psychiatric crisis. use the word crisis. a lot of places will not admit you unless you admit you are having suicidal or homicidal thoughts. if you are visibly in a psychotic episode you may not have to admit these things but generally a lot of places won't admit you unless you are suicidal. if you aren't but need help anyways, mention that you're suicidal. it's not fucked up to do this. if you need help, you need help.

in almost all cases expect to be held for 72 hours (3 days) MINIMUM inside of that hospital. you cannot leave at all during this period. this is referred to as a 72 hour hold, it is for your safety. you are not allowed to leave during this time unless you opt to leave against medical advice (AMA) which will be noted on your chart. some places won't have this but most psychiatric hospitals will do this. please note that this is the MINIMUM hold! you may be there for longer depending on the severity of your situation

you cannot use your cellphone in most of these places. they will be locked away with your other possessions. this is to prevent you from contacting/being contacted by people who may be abusing or scaring you, as well as to prevent you from worrying about the stressors that brought you in to begin with. be prepared to not use any electronic devices for several days to a week. some people really struggle with this but it's vital in the healing process

you will not have access to any of your possessions outside of simple things like books and notebooks. you can't bring in pencils or pens, they will provide you with some. you cannot bring your own hygiene products or medications to be used unless it's a very specific medication that's necessary that that hospital cannot administer

if you use nicotine, you will be given patches in most facilities, but some do allow patients to smoke their own cigarettes. most modern facilities provide nicotine patches

you more than likely will not be able to wear your own clothes. if you can, you will be given to on-site laundry facilities, or the staff will do it for you depending on the location. in a lot of places you will be given scrubs to wear. you will also be given non-slip ("grippy") socks to wear all the time. this is the only footwear that's permitted generally

you more than likely will have to share a bedroom with another patient. not always, but often this is the case. in a lot of hospitals trans patients are put in rooms with just one bed for safety reasons but this will vary wildly depending on location

there will be group therapy and visitations from therapists in most places. please attend these if you feel up to it, a lot of them are genuinely helpful. not all classes or therapists will be good, so if you feel uncomfortable feel free to leave, but i recommend trying to attend these

there are generally vegetarian, vegan, etc. options for meals so feel free to ask the staff in case you have a specific diet, especially medical diets

some psych facilities are small crisis centers or rehabilitation centers that are not connected to a proper hospital. if they are not, their resources will generally be a lot less and they will have less knowledge when it comes to physical health ailments

you may or may not receive a diagnosis. i was instantly diagnosed with schizophrenia the first time i went to the psych ward. i was clearly in a psychotic episode, confused, not entirely sure where i was. i was interviewed for a long time before the doctor came to the conclusion of schizoaffective disorder. other times i was diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder & depersonalization derealization disorder. i get diagnosed with DID and schizophrenia most times i go. your mileage will vary greatly depending on your situation. you may have wildly different diagnoses the different times you visit or you may get the same ones. you may not get a diagnosis at all. it's going to depend on your situation

you are more than likely going to be given new medications. much like the rest of the hospital, you may not be told the name of the medication right away. this is normal. it happens whenever you visit the ER, get a surgery, or are in other parts of the hospital, the name of the medication may not always be told to you right away. ask if you're curious about medications. they'll gladly explain

if a medication is making you feel like garbage or making your symptoms worse tell the nurses right away. you do not have to keep taking a medication if it starts to make you feel worse, you are allowed to communicate how medications are making you feel

try to take care of yourself and focus on getting better. your treatment may not be perfect but if you focus on yourself it gets easier. you're there to learn how to take care of yourself better. there may be "problem" patients but they are there to work on themselves too

if someone starts causing problems with you, tell staff and try to resolve it as quietly as possible as the other patient may just need some help that they weren't being given prior

feel free to ask for the hospital to let you know exactly what your discharge instructions rare. they will generally be setting you up with a lot of appointments upon discharge. this will usually involve an appointment with a therapist and a medication manager if they want you to stay on medication. keep up with these appointments, they will help. if you and your therapist do not get along well, feel free to find out how to find a new therapist

discharge can take a few hours longer than you make expect due to the amount of paperwork and appointments mentioned above. if it takes a long time for you, that is not abnormal

ASK FOR RESOURCES LIKE SOCIAL WORKERS, CASE MANAGEMENT AND SO ON. THIS IS HUGE: if you have EVER been admitted in-patient for mental health reasons you almost always qualify for case management services through your insurance. if you don't have insurance you still may qualify for low or no cost services. these are people who can help you sign up for government and public assistance. they can help you figure out how to pay your bills. they can help you find transportation, help with rent, help navigate addiction, help with signing up for housing programs and so on.

"severe" mental health (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, PTSD, dissociative identity disorder, autism, personality disorders, OCD, and other conditions) & substance use disorder diagnoses often qualify you for discounted housing programs, bill/rental assistance, resources for navigating and escaping homelessness, help with children & family, and other great resources. take advantage of them especially if you genuinely struggle with these things

certain things may vary depending on where you're located, but this is what i've experienced going to hospitals in 3 different states. i hope this information can be helpful to some. if you have any questions feel free to ask i'm happy to help!

[sheliesshattered]

After my last rambling post about my recent and future sewing projects, I was able to make some real progress on the project currently on my table, the Lengberg Castle Bra interpretation. Setting the cups ended up being less of a pain than I thought it would be, possibly because I just went ahead and ran a gathering stitch right at the seam-line on the cups, then marked the 12, 3, 6, and 9 o'clock positions on each and pulled the gathers until it was just small enough to match the circular holes in the front of the body piece. Pinning each cup into place and sewing them to the body after that was easy.

Getting all the tiny wrinkles out of the mockup when I was draping it on myself was always going to be a longshot, and I guess in the end I didn't quite get them all smoothed out. But there's really not all that much gathering on the cups -- once I've fiddled with the fit and flat-felled all the seams, it probably won't even be visible, certainly not through clothing.

Eventually all those raw edges will be getting flat-felled, but for now I've left nearly all of it as is so that I can adjust the fit once I can really try this thing on. I did do a little bit of flat-felling to the vertical cup seams right where the cup meets the body, since I wouldn't be able to get in there again after that seam was sewn. In a theoretical future version of this I might actually want to take those vertical seams in a little more right where they meet the body, and thus avoid having to gather the cups to ease them in, but at least for this version I'm not going to mess with the fitting along that cup-to-body seam.

To really be able to try this on and check for fit, I'm going to have to get the eyelets for the side spiral lacing in place. I have been meaning to make a set of lacing strips with a little bit of scrap coutil and left over grommets from my Rhaenyra dress, but eh I don't feel like doing that much hammering right now. And I think that because this whole thing is un-boned, lacing strips might give me an approximate fit but not the real fit. Getting the side lacing in will allow me to fit it the way I actually intend to wear it.

But before I can start on the hand-bound eyelets, I needed to finish the top edge of the reinforced lacing area, and continue that part of the way around the armscye. I did this with a little twice-turned rolled hem held in place with a whip stitch. I continued that finish up towards the shoulder seam, but didn't quite get there -- I expect that in the fitting phase I may need to adjust that shoulder seam again, so I'm leaving that area unfinished in case I need to move the seam.

I left my long thread tails in place so that I can just finish this up once I'm solid on the fit of the shoulder seam. I did almost all that handsewing while on the phone with my brother last night (my 10 year old niece, who generally loves hanging out with me in person, always cries out "noooo!" when she realizes her dad is on the phone with me, because, and I quote, "you always talk for hours!!"). It was a good mindless handsewing project with lots of tiny stitches to do while chatting for not quite 3 hours, lol.

I didn't realize until a few hours later how much I had overdone in sewing all those tiny stitches, and my right wrist has been hurting since late last night. The spoonie chronic pain and weird joint issues are a primary contributor to how slow of a sewist I am, and I'm definitely going to have to delay my plan to start on the eyelets for at least a day or two, maybe longer. I might be able to handle measuring and marking out the locations for all the eyelets today, but at this point I'm doing as much with my left hand as I can just to give my right a rest. I'd rather take a couple of days off now than a couple of weeks or months off because I continued to push when I should have rested.

So the plan for finishing this, whenever that happens to be and at whatever slow pace I need to go, is to get the eyelets in for side spiral lacing, and then adjust the fit on the shoulder seams and the vertical seams of the cups (and maaaaybe the cup-to-body seam, but I'd really prefer not to mess with that one if I can avoid it). Once I'm happy with the fit in the shoulders and the cups, I'll be able to flat-fell those seams and finish up the armscye hem. After that it'll be down to handsewing a narrow rolled hem on the neckline and attaching a skirt of some description. I have some ideas for what I want to do with the skirt, but I'll figure out the specifics if/when I get that far.

If I need to take a longer break from handsewing and put the eyelets off for more than just a few days, I might shift gears and work on one of the projects with less handsewing. It might make sense to sew the mockup for Jack's Very Fancy Santa Hat while I have the muslin out and the white thread in the machine, but that's like, maybe an hour of work total. I also recently pulled out the 7 yards of brushed cotton herringbone that is destined to become a smokkr/Viking apron dress type over-layer piece, and if my wrist isn't in too bad of a shape, cutting that out from my existing pattern should be pretty straightforward.

And yeah, I'm mixing eras all over the place with my silly Pre-Raphaelite inspired historybounding -- 15th century Lengberg Bra and 13th/14th century cotehardies and 9th/10th century apron dress. But eh, that's the fun of historybounding in contrast to actual historical reenactment costuming: I can pull inspiration from whatever era I feel like, use whatever fabrics and colors and weaves (or knits!) that I want, put the seams wherever works best for me. And hopefully much like the Pre-Raphaelite art, I'll end up with something that is a little fantasy and a little historical, while still being comfy and practical to wear in my every day life. And hopefully my chronic illnesses will actually allow me to sew all the things I so desperately want to make and wear, sooner rather than later.

[thinemoonshine]

⋆ ˚｡𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ni-ki and (y/n) are like peas in a pod—inseparable and close as close can be—so obviously, ni-ki gives (y/n) privileges for things other members can only ever dream of doing

enhypen 8th fem!member x nishimura riki content(s): fluff, jungwon’s defeat by ni-ki’s pettiness, ni-ki lets (y/n) wear his clothes, jake and heeseung third/fourth-wheeling(?), ni-ki's lowkey down bad type: oneshot word count: 975

riki, (y/n)'s capeless hero

“Hey, Riki. Ni-ki. Riki Ni-ki ding dong,” (y/n) calls as she knocks on the open door of his bedroom that he shares with some of the others.

The said lad furrows at the odd nickname and turns around to look as he sits criss-crossed on his bed. “What?”

Her eyes wander around the room to his wardrobe before back at him. “Can I… borrow a shirt? Or a hoodie? Or anything, actually. I wanna change out of mine because it feels so stuffy.”

Unlike the others, she doesn't stay at the dorm and instead, at her own small apartment nearby but she tends to spend a lot of time at the dorm whenever they have schedules— but never overnight. Because of this, she's grown tired of carrying extra baggage for when she freshens up after their morning events before going to their evening ones. And sometimes, she just wants comfort that her outing clothes can't offer. So, what else to do than ask for some little generosity?

Her teammate stares at her and she stares back and an abrupt staring contest begins before he stands to his feet.

“Wait,” he says simply before rummaging through his clothes, eventually pulling out a pink and white tee with its colours blending into each other in gradients. He approaches her. “Here.”

With a quick “thanks!” she then, leaves to change.

“Ni-ki Riki!” (y/n) summons as she slides through the corridor with the help of her socks and she’s caught by the youngest male who exits his room at her beckoning.

His hands on her shoulders to hold her from crashing into him. He blinks fast with eyes widened slightly from surprise as he looks down at her.

“Thanks for the shirt! I feel like I can breathe so much better now without that high-neck collar choking me,” she expresses with theatrics before breaking into a playful grin again. Her eyes are upturned, cheeks rounded at her smiley face and she’s practically buzzing at her newfound comfort.

Ni-ki’s eyes are fixated on her, their cutting sharpness unable to conceal the tenderness and endearment of his gaze as the corners of his lips hook upwards. “Looks nice.”

“I’ll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow.”

“Keep it.”

riki, the exclusive clothes-lender for (y/n)

Ever since he lent (y/n) his shirt, it's become exclusive (to the members) that he is her official clothes-lender. Mainly because, no one else is allowed to. Not that she rejects them— but Ni-ki prevents them.

A giddy Jungwon spots (y/n) sitting on their couch scrolling on her phone and he approaches with a colourful hoodie in his arms. "(y/n)! This hoodie will look grea—"

"(y/n)~" Riki calls with his deep, bass tone in a short sing-song tune. He swerves in front of Won and drapes his hoodie onto the girl's head when she turns to look— blocking her vision from seeing both him and Jungwon. "You wanted this one right? You liked the wording."

"Oh! Um, thanks, Ni-ki! My shirt is fine for now though so—"

"You should change. They say it's gonna get cold soon," Ni-ki claims, lying through his teeth and (y/n), although slightly finding it odd, decides to listen.

She pulls the clothing from her head as she stands, brows raising at the sight of them. "Jungwon! Didn't know you were here too."

Just before she can look down at the piece he holds, Ni-ki spins her around by the shoulders before pushing her gently. "Go, go."

And once she's out of frame, he turns to his hyung who's staring with confused, round eyes and Ni-ki pulls his lips to a line.

"Don't worry, hyung. It's settled now."

At some point, he has clothes set aside just for (y/n). Once again, emphasis on the just.

Heeseung passes by Ni-ki’s room and sees the pile to which he curiously reaches out for— only to get jumpscared by the maknae who appears behind him suddenly.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing. Whose clothes are these?”

“Those are (y/n)’s,” Riki says as he slowly lowers the older’s outstretched hand.

The older furrows. “These look pretty big, though. And why are they in this room? Are you sure they’re—”

“(y/n)’s,” the other will say again despite the said girl not even knowing what these clothes look like yet. But he’s decided they’re hers so they are hers.

An awkward chuckle sounds from his hyung who slowly retracts his hand before Ni-ki can lower it any further to the floor and he takes backward steps out the room.

riki, the (not) discreet no.1 fan

"She looks cute, doesn't she?" Jake gushes at their female member who's sitting at the dining table, knees against her chest but unseen from the way they're hidden under the large hoodie she wears.

Heeseung chuckles with a nod. "She's practically wrapped all over by the hoodie. Just her toes and head popping out."

Light laughter emits from the two as they admire the oblivious lass who's resisting the urge to gnaw the edge of her phone at the stressful game she's playing.

"Yeah. She's cute, right?" Ni-ki abruptly appears beside his hyungs, smiling at the girl from afar. The other two whip their head at him, jumpscared by his abrupt presence. He turns to them, his smiley face contrasting the two who wears expressions of confusion. "That's my hoodie."

"...Yeah, you told us that 3 times in a span of 7 minutes earlier," Heeseung says with a dead expression and a nodding Jake besides him.

But fanboying Ni-ki barely bats an eye at his monotone as he dreamily gazes at a raging (y/n) who's knocking her head on her phone screen. "That's my hoodie she's wearing."

"Uhuh..." Jake sounds as he and Seung quietly slide away and Ni-ki walks to (y/n) with a skip in his steps.

"(y/n)~~" He sings with moe flowers practically fluttering around him, contrasting the dark, gloomy lines that surround the defeated (y/n) by her game.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please, do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[girlgroupshots]

[M]Texting (AESPA Winter)

pairing: winter x reader rating: m for mature word count: 508 summary:  everyone has been noticing winter’s texting habits. if only they knew who she was texting and what it really involved. author’s note: commission that i was allowed to post publicly. if you are interested in a commission feel free to check the links in the header or profile! 

DING!

At the sound of a new message alert you glanced down at your phone. Seeing the name BUNNY you immediately knew who it was. It took you just a second to type in your passcode and retrieve the message and another second for your mouth to go slack as you read it.

                    BUNNY: i’m not wearing any panties.

Quickly you typed out a response.

                    YOU: aren’t you live right now??

                    BUNNY: maybe…

You disregarded what you had been doing, immediately switching to instagram as you pulled up the livestream. Sure enough, there Minjeong was, seated between two other members of her group. Of course, to the naked eye, no one would assume she was without underwear but as she stared at the camera it felt like she was making eye contact and looking directly at you.

You watched as she pulled out her phone and soon enough another message alert came through.

                    BUNNY: i’m using that toy we bought…

                    BUNNY: the one with the app…

Your mind was racing at what she was alluding to. The toy she was referring to was a vibrator that your partner could control via an app. Did she really want you to use that now?

                    YOU: are you serious?

                    BUNNY: yes?

For a second you considered your options but in the end it was no real choice at all. You pulled up the app, the video shrinking to the corner as you did so. As you set it to the lowest setting, you watched the video, waiting to see if Minjeong would react. When she remained with her well-practiced smile and continued to converse with her members you took it as a challenge.

“Okay, let’s see how you handle this.”

You turned it up two notches. This time you watched as Minjeong shifted slightly in her seat, her eyes briefly darting to the screen. To the uninitiated it would be nothing of note. But you knew better.

With a devilish smile you dragged the wave on the app so it would alternate vibrations. Having not used the app before, you didn’t know how well it would actually work. Eagerly you looked to the livestream, seeing Winter squeeze her thighs tighter together, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” you could hear Giselle asking.

“Y-yeah! I was thinking, should we try a different filter?” Minjeong responded.

You chuckled to yourself. The knowledge that beneath her clothing she was a dripping mess while she desperately tried to remain composed only encouraged you to push the limits further. However, you might have been a little over-eager.

You turned up the intensity on the device and on screen, Karina gave a sudden glance at Minjeong.

“Shit!”

You quickly turned down the intensity. Whoops. It helped that Karina knew about your relationship but that didn’t mean you should be that daring.

As you debated whether you’d be able to make Minjeong orgasm while on camera, the articles were already forming online about your girlfriend’s texting. Well, better that than if they knew the truth.

[andersunmenschlich]

Dingdingding! Someone get me a share-size bag of peanut M&Ms, because I've won the bet! [confetti]

Thinking you can allow a child who says "I wanna wear a dress today" to wear a dress is like thinking a child at birth should choose their own name, apparently—it's impossible. Children don't have the ability to want to try out the kinds of clothes and hairstyles and names and pronouns that other kids have.

And putting a kid on puberty blockers ...well, that's dangerous and harmful [citation needed].

Perhaps the claim here is that it's harmful if you put the kid on puberty blockers before the kid has a puberty to block? It's just possible that the poster above me is so misinformed that they think folks who say "it's a good idea to put off going through a puberty until you've decided which puberty you want" are actually saying "newborn babies need puberty blockers."

One thing, at least, is obvious: my post was not read before it was reblogged and responded to.

Me: A kid can like wearing dresses, having long hair, being called 'she' and 'her', and (despite all tradition to the contrary) still not want a female puberty. It's terrible that some people, well-intentioned but misinformed, would push her through one! I would like to stop them from taking her freedom in this way.

Response: You're enforcing stereotypical gender norms.

Today in transphobic idiocy...

Avery Jackson did a non-medical transition at the age of four. At the time, they felt more comfortable as a girl. As they grew up and their understanding of gender evolved, they decided nonbinary transgender suited them better.

And now that they are 15, their family is moving out of Missouri because they fear the recent draconian anti-trans laws.

"No longer identifies as a girl" does not mean they identify as a boy. They are still trans. They knew from the age of 4 that being a boy was not right for them.

I don't think they changed their mind. I think they just found a better understanding of who they were.

These bigots know nothing about trans people yet think they are qualified to criticize them.