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inky-duchess · 4 months ago

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Fantasy Guide to Regency Fashion

The Regency. The King is mad, the Prince of Wales is lording it up as the de-facto head of state. Napoleon is raging in Europe, Jane Austen is Austen-ning and the Bridgertons are on the prowl, waiting for their glow-up season. But what are they wearing during this period? Now, for this post, I am focusing on the actual Regency period (1811 to 1820). The before and after will come… eventually.

The Regency is a curious sub-era of fashion because it is bracketed between the early Victorian era with its large skirts and large puffy sleeves and the Georgian fashions with the court mantuas. I once read an article that pondered what the Victorians thought of the fashion of their grandmother’s and great-grandmothers during the Regency, wondering if they were scandalised.

Undergarments

The Regency undergarments have much of the same structure of those that came before and after, just with tweaks.

For ladies, the Regency was a time for natural silhouettes, so this meant that the long-structured corsets of the Victorians were a way off and the panniers of the Georgians were forgotten (except at court but we will talk about it later).

Chemise: This goes under everything. This is not up for debate. I am talking to you period drama wardrobe people, yes you, you know who you are. The chemise is like a big linen shirt worn under everything else.

Petticoat: This was a thin skirt worn over the chemise to keep the chemise from sticking to the skirts. These weren’t worn for volume as petticoats were and would be worn.

Corsets: The Corset in the Regency period was much shorter than you would expect but so were bodices. Regency corsets might make you think of modern-day bras since they sometimes spanned from the breasts to the waist rather than the hips.

Stockings and garters: Stockings are like long socks that go up past the knee, usually in muted colours and embroidered. Stockings were held up by garters, which were strips of cloth tied around the leg to keep them in place.

Drawers: Technically most Regency women didn’t wear any underwear, but the Regency period was the beginning of the interest in wearing them. Some women adopted the drawers which were modified versions of the drawers worn by men. Princess Charlotte, Princess of Wales was said to have tried them out which confused a lot of other women. In the later years of the Regency, some women adopted the pantaloons which were like drawers only longer. Drawers were short of linen or cotton shorts, only with a split in the crotch and a drawstring waist.

Gentlemen

Undershirts: Men wore their own kinds of chemises, but these were much shorter and tucked into the drawers. You’re thinking of Colin Firth aren’t you?

Drawers: Like I said, the lady’s versions are adaptations of the men, cotton/linen shorts with a drawstring. But during the Regency, the drawers were adapted to have buttoned flaps.

Corsets: Yes, men also wore corsets. The Prince Regent wore one for his back issues officially but there were rumours of him wearing one to try manage his considerable weight.

Gowns and Suits

The Gentlemen

The men of the Regency were just as interested in their fashion as their female counterparts and their predecessors of the Georgian period.

Tailcoat/Jacket: Jackets and tailcoats were tailored, with the tails shaped into a “M” shape. These were made to show the shirt, vest and cravat underneath.

Waist Coat: The Regency waistcoats were vests, usually single-breasted but double-breasted were popular too. The trend in the Regency was high collared vests.

Shirt: Men would have worn shirts over their chemise for warm, only this shirt would be of more substantial fabric and often embroidered.

Cravat: The cravat is like a tie, wrapped around the neck and knotted.

Pants: When not at court, men wore trousers. These were buttoned at the front and usually tailored.

Breeches: Breeches were worn more at court as they were considered old-fashioned.

Pantaloons: These were tight, fitted trousers that were worn with high boots.

Suspenders: Trousers worn with suspenders were originally a working-class trend – as all the best trends are – become popular in the years preceding the Regency.

Inexpressibles: Probably what you’re thinking of when you think of Regency pants. These were extremely tight fitting and have reputation.

Buckskins: These were sort of the equivalent of comfy pants for the men. They were made from deerskin and worn during down time.

Great Coat: The great coat is a long coat worn over the ensemble and could be as fancy or as plain as the gentleman wants.

Shoes: Usually, leather dress shoes and worn to every sort of event except outside where boots might be the best option. Boots were never worn at night.

Ladies

The women of the Regency period were experiencing something new, something more aligned to the Romanticism of the day. Women took inspiration from the Classical world in their fashion. Bodices became shorter, sleeves shorter and silhouettes less structured.

Morning Gowns: These were dresses worn in the morning or during the day time if one was staying at home. It had an empire waist, short sleeves and worn with shawls and bonnets if taking a stroll in the garden. These were usually made of light fabrics such as muslin or poplin

Visiting Gowns: Visting gowns were worn when calling on friends or family. They were made of more substantial fabric like wool, satin or silk and less plain than the morning gown. They would be long sleeved and worn with gloves.

Walking Gowns: Walking gowns are pretty much self-explanatory, worn when walking outside, so that means long sleeves. They were made of thick fabrics such as wool, cotton and velvet and always worn with a bonnet and a spencer or a pelisse and gloves.

Promenade Dresses: These are a fancier gown than walking gowns, usually more decorated and worn both for walking and for riding in a carriage. Worn with a bonnet and gloves. Usually worn when one is taking a quick trip by carriage.

Carriage Dresses: Yes, the Regency not only had one dress for riding in a carriage, they had many. These were very similar to the promenade dress but designed for better comfort. Can be worn with gloves but definitely worn with a bonnet. One might wear this one on long journeys by carriage.

Riding Habits: This was worn by women when they were riding horses. They were usually made of thick cotton, leather of wool depending on the weather. This outfit was comprised of a long coat, riding gloves, high boots for the muck and stirrups and worn with a hat to keep the hair from the lady’s face.

Ball Gowns: Ball gowns were short sleeved, empire waisted and made from silk, satin and usually well decorated depending on the lady’s rank. They were always paired with long gloves. No bonnet worn here. Hair would be arranged under a tiara or an array of flowers or jewels or combs.

Shawl: Was a drape of fabric worn over the upper body against a chill. It may be made from wool or a heavier fabric but if worn to an event, it would be made of lighter fabric.

The Spencer Jacket: The Spencer is a fitted jacket, long sleeved and waist-length jacket worn over a dress when walking.

Pelisse: Is an coat dress which like the Spencer was close fitting but it was much longer.

Cloak/Mantelet: The cloak wasn’t dead yet in the Regency period. Women would have worn them in the evenings when attending balls, parties, the opera and the theatre.

Tucker: The tucker was a piece of fabric tucked into one’s bodice to cover as much as one’s chest and shoulders as possible.

Bonnet: The bonnet was usually a cap with a wide brim, trimmed with fabric flowers or ribbon and held in place by a ribbon tied under the chin.

Slippers: These look like a ballet slipper. They would be made from silk, satin, leather etc.

Boots: These were made of leather, often worn when walking distances in the city and country and usually only reached the ankle.

Pattens: This was a metal lift worn at the bottom of the lady’s shoe to keep her from ruining her shoes in rain or the city’s muddy streets.

When at Court

If you have ever watched Bridgerton, you might see that Queen Charlotte doesn’t wear the same gowns as the rest of the ton. This is actually historically accurate as Queen Charlotte was a traditionalist at heart and distrusted the new fashions, though we have a surviving empire-waisted dress of hers worn in private. When the ton descended on court, especially at the debut, they would not be wearing their short-sleeved, empire gowns. They would be wearing a wide hooped dress with a long train – but the Regency ladies weren’t about to give up on everything modern, they followed Queen Charlotte’s rules but kept the empire waist which lead to a ridiculous looking gown. I mean, look at it.

Bejewelled

The Regency era is a very important era for jewels because *trumpet sounds* it was the dawn of the tiara, or the renaissance of it. The modern idea of tiara came about during this era due to the women taking inspiration from the stephanes worn by the Ancient Greeks and Romans. Tiaras became a staple during this time, giving us some of our most famous and beautiful tiaras we still have today.

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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago

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small military things - 141

"what is the comfort item the men of task force 141 keep close to remind them of the most important thing in their life, you." - starring: john price, simon riley, kyle garrick and john mactavish

a/n: was this inspired? yes. inspired by what? you can probably guess..

captain john price: call him an old romantic, but he keeps a photo of you in his helmet. tucked away in the straps, out of sight but still in his mind. you were always n his mind, while he laid in the uncomfortable cot, he thought about your sugary voice and the sweetness between your legs. he thought of home, how you were probably tucked away in bed. while he wasn't there to protect you, he knew that he was keeping the world safe and therefore you safe. the love of his life! it was of you smiling, that time you went to the zoo and the keeper put a large snake across your shoulders. you were laughing, a reminder to price that he had to do everything he could to keep the laughter coming. seeing that beautiful smile. but it also burned something fierce in the captain, a need for his missus. just make sure to send another printed out picture of you in your next care package because his other one, well, got a ruined.

lieutenant simon riley: he gifted you patches from his military gear. they were old, frayed at the edges. a sign of well worn material. he didn't need to wear "riley" across his chest anymore while on base. but you, you were the mrs. riley! if anyone should have it, it was you. and in return you gifted him a small bear plush. officer bear was the name that you gave it, even though simon explained that officer wasn't a very high rank, but he still took the toy. he never owned stuffed animals, the ones in his home were yours. but officer bear was a nice comfort item on base. he stayed there when simon left for a mission (safer that way). however, simon had to put the stuffed toy in the closet while he masturbated. but he did touch himself to thoughts of you cuddled up with the plush toy once he came home, the brown bear's soft head stuck between your breasts while you cuddled with it. soon simon thought about his big head between your soft breasts. how many more days was it till lt. riley and officer bear got to go home to the missus?

sergeant kyle garrick: he would say his little military thing was that he slept with your old university hoodie as a pillow case when he was on base. the worn fabric, the wear and tear around the cuffs of the sleeves from how well loved it had been. the brick red coloured fabric up against his cheek while he slept - memories of you. however, he had another article of clothing that he kept in his tactical vest. it wasn't from university, but rather your wedding night - thin cotton panties that you wore on your wedding night. pastel blue that held precious memories of the lovely, stunning mrs. garrick. however it was hard to clean when 141 does their laundry, everything is put together, so it was rather up against his face rather than around his cock when he gets a few quiet of moments for stress relief.

sergeant john mactavish: things have moved a long way since the second world war, now john can simply text you, every little thought that comes into his mind. some days he cannot text; trainings, missions, flights, etc. but when he got his phone back, the cracked screen with the flimsy scotland themed case (that you bought him), he was texting you. maybe some of those messages would make the likes of price look away out of modesty, but for the most part john behaved. but you had woken up to hi waxing poetically about how much he wanted to eat you out when he got home - only weeks till he got to have the sweetest fruit of the highlands once more. - he wanted to eat you out. he always tried to egg you on to tease him i situations where he couldn't jerk off. he loved the rush of your dirty talk over text! and he could save it for later, your dirty text continued to be the subject of his sexual fantasies after he retired and got to have your sweet pussy every night.

#bunny drabbles #do you see the vision?#call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #john price #kyle garrick #john mactavish #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #john price x reader #john price smut #john soap mactavish smut #john soap mactavish x reader

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caladblog · 6 months ago

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A BASIC GUIDE TO VICTORIAN CLOTHING, FOR FANDOMS

wherein VICTORIAN CLOTHING is understood to mean "common clothing from the 1830s to the end of the century, in fashion as set by London and followed to a greater or lesser extent in the rest of the British empire"

This is very much meant as a starting point or a cheat sheet, not a comprehensive historical essay, for people who want to know what the Fuck is happening under that morning coat and/or dress the size of a kitchen table. I've also included a little bit on likely materials and colors so you can add some texture to your fics.

Here's the rule of thumb: Victorians loved LAYERS, BUTTONS, and DECORATIVE SHIT. When in doubt, slap several layers of clothing on your guy, button 'em all together, and flourish the hell out of the top layer. Congrats, you have dressed a Victorian.

Read on for details! And check my reblogs for a note on trans characters. A Part 2 on Mending/Laundry is in the works, because it had a much bigger impact on Victorian dress at all levels of society than it does on modern fashion and I think it's worth talking about.

UNDERWEAR FOR MEN:

a warm and comfortable and easily washable undershirt (typically called a vest) with sleeves that went down to the wrist

drawers, also warm and comfortable and easily washable and covering the whole legs, fastened with buttons or ties at the waist and ankles

pair of socks

If you cover your whole body in this base layer made of undyed, unfashionable, who-cares-if-it's-stained fabric, the sweat and dirt of your body stays on this easily-washable layer and spares the outer layers of clothing that would be damaged by hot water and soaps, or at least that was the philosophy.

The most common fabric for this underwear was flannel, as it was cheap and fairly soft. Bands of cotton could be stitched to the inside of the wrists, ankles, waists, and collar if you found the wool itchy. Socks were almost always knitted wool, holes or thin spots mended with darning whether you were poor or rich.

UNDERWEAR FOR WOMEN:

the chemise / shift: a simple, short-sleeved cotton tube that fell to the mid-thigh

other underwear requires a bit of a history lesson, sorry. At the beginning of the century, you wore like 85 petticoats and no bloomers. Then crinolines--a sort of metal cage skirt that held your dress away from your body to obtain the fashionable wide silhouette--were invented in the 1850s. It was great, because they replaced 30lbs of underskirts, but also inconvenient, in that hoops of steel are inherently bouncy. To preserve modesty (and also warmth) women began wearing bloomers, open in the middle and buttoning at the waist and either at or below the knee. These were also made of plain cotton and only occasionally decorated with a bit of lace-- for all your underthings, male or female, you wanted to be able to 1) make a bunch of sets quickly and cheaply so you could change every day without needing to launder as often and 2) use cloth that could be laundered easily.

stockings were longer and more decorative than men's socks, made of wool, cotton, or silk. White was popular at the beginning of the century, but bright colors and patterns became fashionable in the middle, and conservative black stockings dominated the end of the era. Wool fabrics were the most common, warmest, and cheapest; silk stockings were for very wealthy and fashionable women as they required the most care. Near the end of the century stockings were suspended from the corset, but up til that point stockings were held up by garters tied above the knee.

MIDDLE LAYERS FOR MEN:

shirts, with much longer tails than the button-up shirts we're used to, with a buttoned slit that only went about halfway down the chest rather than all the way down the front of the garment. Lots of volume in the sleeve around the armpit, buttoned up at the cuff. At the beginning of the period, rich men's shirts were checked or patterned while working men's shirts were white(ish), but this swapped over the course of the century as colored fabric became cheaper. (It hides stains better.) The gentleman's shirt from midcentury onward was a crisp, bright white.

As a middle layer, parts of it (like the cuffs and front) could be seen in public, but you absolutely could not go out without a waistcoat and jacket. You only removed your jacket and showed your shirtsleeves at the end of the day, amongst your family.

Trousers were held up by braces / suspenders that went over the shoulders, not belts that fastened around the waist, and you did NOT let them show. They were meant to be covered entirely by waistcoats.

MIDDLE LAYERS FOR WOMEN:

As a very carefully tailored and shaped garment that couldn't really be washed, corsets went over the shift. All women wore them, even laborers, even prisoners and people in workhouses as part of their (institution-provided and deliberately demeaning) uniform. They were viewed as necessary armor to support your weak internal organs, and the physically upright posture they created went hand in hand with moral uprightness in the Victorian mind. They could lace up in the front or back, and the boning could be made of steel (cheap and sturdy) or whalebone (springier and therefore a bit more comfortable) or wood (if you are truly broke AF) or even just stiff cord (mostly for young girls, in which they were called stays).

camisoles (also called vests or corset covers) were tailored shirts worn over the corset, and could be either extremely decorative with embroidery and lace or plainer and made for warmth.

then you've got the crinoline, tied at the waist, a skirt made of steel hoops as already described.

then a couple of petticoats, decorated at the hem for fashion, layered for warmth and to hide the crinoline's hoops.

OUTERWEAR FOR MEN:

trousers, made of cotton or wool. The big differences between Victorian trousers and today's are 1) zippers hadn't been invented yet, the flies were buttoned and 2) the modern waist sits around the hipbones, while the Victorian waist was at the bottom of the ribcage.

jackets, made of thick heavily felted wool that was decently wind- and rain-proof. Darker colors in jackets and trousers lasted longer, so light-colored cloth was mostly worn by the young and rich (or those who wanted to look rich) and flashy.

waistcoats were where the fashion REALLY was. As the back was always made of plain cotton not meant to be seen, even poor men could often afford the cost of the fabric needed to make a neat waistcoat. The front could be made of embroidered silk for luxury, wool for added warmth, or printed cotton making full use of the brilliantly-colored (and relatively cheap) dyes that had just been invented. It's a little bit like people today wearing simple suits and shirts paired with wild socks.

OUTERWEAR FOR WOMEN:

and here you finally get to the f*cking dress. I couldn't possibly go into all the variations on dresses in this era, but I can say that bright colors and patterns were common for women of all classes (but were also part of the ever-present anxiety about people acting "above their station", if a maid dressed too fashionably). The design of the sleeves and the decoration of the hems changed regularly with fashion, as did the precise shape of the feminine silhouette, but the bodice was always tight and the skirts were always full. The average woman would spend more money on flourishes--ribbons, lace, other trimmings--than the dress itself, largely because the average level of skill in sewing was so high that they mostly bought the fabric for the dress and cut & sewed it themselves.

ACCESSORIES FOR MEN:

the collar was not an integral part of the shirt! It was detachable and had to be washed, starched, and ironed separately. Laborers didn't wear them, just a loosely-tied cloth around their neck, but a stand-up collar was necessary for anyone working in a business setting whether you're rich or making really terrible clerk's wages. Turned-down collars like the ones on most of our shirts today were informal and for wealthy men at leisure.

a stock or necktie, ideally black silk. Modern neckties weren't around yet, but the century moved slowly towards that and away from cravats.

gloves. Especially when status was a concern, so, men outside the home not engaged in business and servants waiting on their masters. These were tight-fitting, pale in color, and damn near impossible to launder and mend.

ACCESSORIES FOR WOMEN:

a shawl, often. Your lower half would be covered in stockings and plentiful skirts, while your upper half would only have a few layers that were usually made of cotton, so freezing your tits off was unfortunately common.

gloves. Like men's gloves, these were also status symbols worn when visiting your acquaintances or waiting on your masters. The vast vast majority of servants were women, and the rough labor of washing and cleaning fell to them, so these gloves also covered the evidence of that rough work.

HATS/BONNETS:

Everybody wore a hat when out in public. It's just what you did. The type of hat varied based on fashion, occupation, and social standing, but you had SOME kind of thing on your head when you left the house.

SOME SPECIFIC CLOTHES:

Fishermen wore knitted jumpers instead of jackets. Laborers out in the country (muddy when it rained, dusty when it didn't) wore gaiters, which were basically just rectangles or tubes of cheap-ass sacking that tied around the ankle and below the knee to keep the mud / dust off their trousers. Surgeons and people who worked a lot with ink (clerks, stationers) had sleeves, which were tubes of canvas that tied around the wrist and elbow to protect their shirtsleeves. The advantage of sleeves and gaiters is that you can remove them, toss them in a bucket of water, and beat the shit out of them to wash them without worrying about rips or tears OR getting the stains (mud, ink, blood, etc) onto your other clothes.

Maids and other laborers didn't wear crinolines, but they did wear a corset and a couple of petticoats under their dress.

More prosperous laborers might still own a collar / crinoline, but only wear it to church on Sundays or other occasions that called for nice dress.

When at home and not working or entertaining visitors, both men and women would wear slippers that could be super fancy or very simple or your kid's first sewing project, etc etc. Depends on your preference.

Men would sleep in long, loose nightshirts and women would sleep in long, loose nightdresses. Practically speaking there wasn't much difference between these garments; both might be decorated a bit with embroidery or lace. Rich people would have finer fabrics, fashionable people would have more decoration, poor people might just sleep in whatever combination of day clothes is the most comfortable. Fairly straightforward.

TO RECAP

MEN: vest + drawers + socks > shirt > trousers + braces + collar > waistcoat + stock or necktie > jacket + shoes or boots > hat

WOMEN: shift + bloomers (optional) + stockings > corset > camisole > crinoline > petticoats (minimum 2) > dress > shawl > shoes + bonnet

===

SOURCES

How to Be a Victorian, by Ruth Goodman

Inside the Victorian Home, by Judith Flanders

Episode 342 of Antiques Freaks, Historical Costuming for The Terror (2018)-- the first ~8 minutes talk about men's clothes in general, then they go into naval uniforms until minute 15ish.

#fallen london #the terror amc #at least those are the two fandoms i learned this shit for lol

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uzumaki-rebellion · 19 days ago

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"Stack's Lesson" Teaser...

Stack's Lesson by Uzumaki Rebellion

Characters: Elias "Stack" Moore, Ruby Evers (Teenaged Black OC), and Mary.

Warning(s): Mentions of Hoodoo, Supernatural Elements, Violence, Death, The Usual Vampire Shit, and Angst. Post-Sinners movie.

Summary: Fourteen-year-old Ruby Evers's parents haven't come home from Club Juke. Left to fend for herself and her two younger siblings, she investigates what happened to them and the other missing sharecroppers who partied the night before. As dusk looms, Ruby discovers two dangerous predators hidden inside her family's chicken coop.

Author's Note: Ruby is the young girl Smoke met at the beginning of Sinners.

youtube

"Black leaves on the Mississippi river

Black leaves in the Mississippi fire

Black leaves in the Mississippi choir

Black leaves on the Mississippi land

And we've got God and cotton

We've got sons and daughters

We've got grit and glory

We've got mama's stories

We've got strength like towers

We've got hope and power"

Kirby – "Black Leaves"

Mama didn't come home.

Poppa neither.

Fourteen-year-old Ruby Evers waited by the bedroom window early Sunday morning, as her younger brother and sister slept near her feet, piled onto one old mattress on the floor. She scratched her leg, irritating a spider bite that appeared fiery red on her tawny skin.

The window faced the path her parents would take to get home from the old sawmill. Poppa carried mama off in their horse and cart looking so handsome. He even wore his tan church vest and matching bow tie. Mama fixed her hair up, uncovering it from the pale blue and white gingham cloth she usually tied her thick braids up with. She took the braids down and added some purple pansies to look fancy for the night. They were so nervous when Ruby came home with her aunt from town and she told them about Smoke Moore paying her cash money to watch his liquor truck. He ended up giving her five whole dollars for doing a good job. She would always remember his lesson about knowing her worth in the world.

Word spread about the men who tried to thief them in broad daylight, but their concern soon shifted with excitement once they heard a new juke was opening that same day. They still had cotton quotas to fill, but the temptation to hear good music from the preacher's son was too delicious to pass up. Tongues also wagged about Pastor Moore's notorious cousins sweeping into town with money to buy the old sawmill outright from an old peckerwood like Hogwood. They wanted to see the transformation of the place themselves.

Glancing at her siblings, she wondered what to fix for them if mama didn't come home.

John-John, her nine-year-old middle brother, mumbled in his sleep. Her seven-year-old baby sister, Mae, stirred under a threadbare blanket. Ruby left the window and padded barefoot into their kitchen area where she piled wood into the iron stove. She struck a match and lit some kindling to boil water for grits. There were a few leftover biscuits from their supper the day before, but they'd gone hard. They would eat them anyway along with some day old boiled eggs, and then do their chores until their parents returned.

Worry poked at Ruby's belly. Her parents had never been gone overnight before together. She wandered over to their sleeping room to check the bed again. It hadn't been slept in all night.

Mae ambled into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and looking around.

"Where's Mama and Poppa?"

"I dunno. Go put on your clothes and get John-John up."

"I'm already up," John-John said, pulling on his overalls.

Ruby rubbed on his puffy hair and tugged on her sister's two braids.

"Y'all go feed the chickens, and I'll clean up in here. When the grits are ready, I'll call ya."

The children nodded and scampered out the front door. Ruby dressed quickly, made up their bedding, swept the floors clean, and checked on the water. She stirred in the grits and set out plates on the kitchen table. Once the cooked grains were at the right consistency, she whipped a spoon with butter through them, and then pulled the pot off the fire.

"Ruby! Ruby! Midnight is running around out here by hisself!" John-John hollered.

Ruby wiped her hands on her dress and dashed outside.

Midnight, their coal black gelding, ran in an agitated circle near their small tenement garden.

"Whoa, Midnight…easy boy," Ruby said, raising her hands to get him to calm down.

Where was the cart and their parents?

Midnight had broken his harness away from the cart. Maybe the wheels hit a rock, and the cart fell over, injuring her parents. Ruby led the horse to his enclosure and closed the gate tight. She ran down the path the horse would've come from and didn't see the cart or anyone else in the distance. Hoofing it back to their home, she gestured to her siblings.

"Come on in here and eat," Ruby said.

"Where's Mama and Poppa? How come they not here with Midnight?" Mae asked.

Ruby hustled them into the house and scooped the grits on their plates with the biscuits and unshelled eggs.

"Eat," she said.

She ate with them, trying to look at ease, but her heart rate elevated and tension strained her shoulders. After the children cleaned their plates of every single grit and biscuit crumb, she herded the younger ones over to Miss Emmie's home. The elderly woman often cared for younger children while the teens and adults worked the fields.

Miss Emmie stood at her clothesline. She beat rugs of dust early before the temperature rose.

"Miss Emmie, can you watch John-John and Mae today?" she asked, holding up one dollar of the money she earned from Smoke.

"Where you get that money from?"

Miss Emmie took the dollar and turned it over in her hand, making sure it was actually cash and not plantation scrip.

"I earned it. They ate breakfast already. I'll be back later today. Can you feed them again before I get back?"

"Where you goin'?"

"Mama and Poppa didn't come back last night. Midnight came back without the cart. I think somethin' happened to 'em."

"They went to that juke?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Emmie sucked the teeth she still had left in her mouth.

"Maybe I should go get Ben to go look for you."

"That's alright Miss Emmie, I can do it myself. No need to bother Ben on his day off."

"You shouldn't be around no juke joint."

"Yes ma'am, but I'm worried."

"Oh, Lord. Ben!"

Emmie shouted toward her ramshackle cabin. A six foot tall scrawny man with a lazy eye trudged outside.

"Momma?"

"Ben…carry Ruby over to that old sawmill. She's looking for her parents. You can pick up a pound of rice and a pound of pinto beans for me on the way there. Get six chicken tamales for our lunch later. And some penny candy for John-John and Mae. I'm gonna watch them while you help Ruby look for Alice and Roy. Can you remember all that?"

She handed him the dollar Ruby gave her.

"I'll remember."

Ben spit into the dirt and pocketed the money in his trousers. He tucked in his faded shirt and headed back into the house.

"Lemme get my shoes on," he called out to them.

"John-John…Mae…y'all go on inside," Emmie said.

Ruby hugged her brother and sister.

"Be good and I'll be back as soon as I can."

The children nodded and headed indoors.

Ben stepped back out and pulled a straw hat over his head.

"C'mon, Ruby," he said.

She followed him around the side and watched him hitch an old mule to a wagon. He helped her climb onto the front seat and he joined her, holding the reins. He whistled, and the mule began pulling them on their way.

Ben didn't talk, and Ruby didn't engage in any type of conversation. Her mind cleaved onto anything her parents might have said that may have indicated not coming home before they departed. There was no mention of giving other folks a ride or stopping off anywhere. If Poppa was too drunk to guide the cart himself, Mama would've left him behind and come home alone to check on them. The pit of her stomach ached.

In town, Ben pulled up to the Chow's Grocery store on the colored side and tied his mule. Ruby jumped down and sat on a small bench in front of the store to wait. She noticed Lisa Chow pacing the front of an unopened business. Lisa's face appeared blotchy and pink, streaked with tears. Roughly a dozen Chinese adults surrounded her, their expressions fretful. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying hysterically.

"I don't know where they are!" Lisa shrieked. "They didn't come home from that juke joint!"

Ruby's heart lurched in her chest. Another set of missing parents who went to the juke. The pain in Ruby's belly nearly bowled her over as she started breaking into a profuse sweat. Something bad happened.

Ben called over another man they both knew who worked on a riverboat. Calvin was a fisherman and knew everyone in town.

"Cal, what's goin' on?" Ben asked.

Calvin scratched his shaggy head and sighed.

"I don't quite know. I was supposed to drop off a new load of catfish, but the Chows ain't showed up to pay me. I've been waiting out here since eight. Lisa out here sayin' they never came home last night."

"Did you go to the juke?"

"For about an hour after they opened, and then I left early. Had to get up and check my traps at five this morning."

A cloud of dust kicked up in the street as the town sheriff sped off past them. Several other vehicles followed him.

"Something is up," Ben said. "C'mon Ruby, let's get over to that juke."

He helped her up into the wagon again, and they followed the dust of the sheriff's car.

His mouth ached.

Moving his jaw a bit, Stack licked the inside of his gums, searching for residual blood. He didn't like the taste of it hours later, nor did he delight in the pieces of flesh caught between his teeth where he ripped apart Annie's throat.

He opened his eyes.

Annie.

She had been the key he needed to get his twin to join the hive. Smoke chose to kill her instead.

Yet spared him.

He rolled over in the dense straw that covered him and Mary.

The woman who turned him into a lost soul slumbered in a deep, trance-like state, looking like a corpse in need of a casket. Blood smeared the lower half of her face. She didn't seem to mind the traces of slaughter they committed against innocent people. Her rabid mouth had been gluttonous, as if a bloodlust frenzy was second nature to her. He looked at her closely. She slept like a sated baby.

Stack's eyes longed to close. His body floated just under lucidness. He fought it as an internal alarm system kicked in. Two things he became aware of: the warmth of humans and the scent of their blood.

A young boy and girl had stepped into the chicken coop, their chatter bringing his consciousness to the surface. Mary stayed asleep.

Chickens clucked, and the children tossed feed all over the floor, some of it striking the thick straw covering Stack and Mary. Luckily, a large tree kept the coop shaded from the sun piercing through the wood slats. Stack kept still and listened. The young ones ran out quickly, and he heard the fearful neighing of a horse. After that. Silence.

"Are they gone?"

Mary opened her eyes. The sickly paleness of her skin covered in blood told him how his life would be from now on.

Still hiding in the shadows with her.

Always killing.

Never satisfied. Never truly free.

The rest soon come....!!!

#sinners fanfiction #Vampire!Stack #stack moore #remmick #mary #stack fanfiction #Uzumaki Rebellion #Stack's Lesson Teaser

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3liza · 1 month ago

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speaking as an inveterate ebay browser (i just like to look at stuff), it's surprisingly difficult to find women's matched suit sets that just look like a normal suit. you know, you get the urge to just own one "anytime" business casual type suit, black or charcoal, wool or cotton, regular pants, regular jacket, maybe a vest if youre really lucky. the classic Sad Counterculture Man Daily Unform you know, nick cave et al, and you can wear it with some chelsea boots and a normal buttondown and droop around in a coffee shop.

you fantasize about becoming one of those enviable people with a "capsule wardrobe" whatever that is. and ebay will serve you 40 pages of marled knobbled mauve-with-gold-interwoven-thread tweed houndstooth skirt sets with huge gathered flowers all over the collar and the ugliest buttons god or the devil have ever made. suits from wardrobe on a television show with a side character who is one of those Office Ladies.

you can definitely try men's suits but for most people with an ass or an hourglass shape or boobs this is going to hang weird. and then you need to get it tailored, which i encourage and is surprisingly affordable most of the time, but is going to add another $40 minimum.

its certainly not IMPOSSIBLE to find a normal looking women's suit with either pants or a skirt, it's just puzzlingly challenging. especially if youre looking for something cheap. usually youre getting up into the $40 range before stuff stops looking like a clearance item from Xhileration in 2003.

#blog #not that i eschew the camp value of an ugly office lady set #but thats not what im going for you know

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benewitch · 28 days ago

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Okay guys, I woke up this morning and the Silco brainrot is in full-force (yeah, I am yearning for him again). And there it is. The reason why I think Silco’s Act 1 outfit is his best one (considering both seasons). It’s gonna be a lengthy one.

From our take of his introduction Silco is a character built upon striking contrasts, stuck between the two worlds of Piltover and Zaun. A handsome man with horrifically scared face. A crimelord with a silver tongue. A loving father and a master manipulator. His type of intelligence isn’t associated with science but with the human nature- he reads people like an open book, always one step ahead. And he isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty- either by wielding a knife or a gun (even brute force).

THAT'S THE SAME MAN, RIGHT???

Someone mentioned before how strange it was for Silco to exchange his old clothes for that expensive tree piece suit, that has more value in gold than the yearly salary of someone from the Undercity (he HATES pilties, right???). Even in the AU (where he was indeed a councilor), his choice of clothing is still elegant and speaks of his status, but is not nearly as posh. And I think it served his character in a very particular way- “…we need to scare them…”. It was more of a façade, a power and control situation. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was an answer to his slipping control (with Marcus, with the Chem-Barons, with Jinx, with the Firelights), a desperate need to remind of his status when other measures failed to do so. And especially his coat. He always wears it when he wants to intimidate. Just like some species of animals trying to scare off predators (imagine a porcupine spreading its quills or a horned owl). I am also thinking of this outfit as more of mimicry- imitating the predator(pilties) in hopes to trick it (okay, okay, that's enough biology stuff).

That’s what made me consider the Act 1 outfit as the “true” Silco outfit that falls perfectly in line with the narrative that he will never be a piltie, but he is neither a “true zauinite” as we might expect. The outfit itself is a perfect blend of contradictions. An expensive looking vest worn over a simple cotton, red striped shirt. Trousers tailored in the way Piltover men wear them, falling at the seams and held together at multiple places (belt, bandages?). Perfectly clean and pressed clothes (the strking white of his tie) paired with mismatched boots. And the cunty wristband?

Something more I want you to take into consideration is the LANGUAGE Silco uses. I went through the transcripts of the first few episodes. Every single zaunite character that you encounter (even children) don’t seem bothered to slip out curses or profanities (shit, fuck-up, son of a bitch, trencher trash, piss off, STUFF THEM IN THE OLD BABY MAKER). And guess who is the only one that breaks this rule? Silco has a very rich and distinctive vocabulary; his lines seem perfectly arranged (imagine a debate between him and Mel or Cassandra).

If you read this far, thank you! I had a lot of fun writing this (especially the animal part 😂🤦🏻‍♀️), and I hope you enjoyed it as well! 🫶🏻

#arcane #silco #arcane silco #silco arcane #my thoughts #on his outfit #plus some weird animal analogy #bear with me #silco analysis #a little bit of a crack post #hope you like <3

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damenschapparel · 1 year ago

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#vest #mens vest #vest for men #vests #cotton vest

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megalony · 1 year ago

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Light Duties

This is an Eddie x Reader x Evan imagine, requested by anon. I really like this prompt/ idea and I hope you will all like it. Feedback is always lovely to hear.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) is put on light duties at the station when she's pregnant. But the boys start worrying when she becomes ill while on shift.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she quietly walked into the locker room and noticed Evan slumped down on the bench. He had his shoulders hunched and his back arched forward. Both his knees were spread wide and he had a towel thrown over his shoulder. The vest and button up shirt laid neatly on the bench next to him gave away what he had been doing.

He had been down in the gym for an hour while they had time to spare between callouts.

Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) ran her fingers along the back of his shoulders and up his neck. She felt the way he shivered beneath her touch and he turned his head to kiss her wrist before she let go and moved in front of him towards the lockers.

"Can I help you?" Sarcasm dripped from Evan's teasing tone and he lifted his head up, his lips curved into a smirk on one side as he squinted over at his girl.

She was going into his locker.

"You can, actually. Let me borrow a shirt, please?"

When she turned to look at him over her shoulder, she already knew that batting her eyes had won him over. His smirk faded into a cheesy, warm smile as he tossed the towel down beside him and moved his hands to his knees so he could push himself up to his feet.

He sauntered over until he was stood behind her and Evan rested his right arm against a locker while his other hand cupped (Y/n)'s hip and he looked down at her with raised brows.

"And why should I do that?" He kissed the top of her head but (Y/n) had already found a spare cotton shirt in his locker. She pulled it off the hanger before she shut his locker and turned to face him.

"Because I've officially outgrown all of mine, and that is your fault."

(Y/n) jabbed her finger playfully into Evan's bare chest before she motioned down at her own shirt with a frown. A small huff escaped her lips when Evan let out a laugh and grinned. He may find this highly amusing, but (Y/n) didn't. She couldn't wear her own cotton shirts anymore because they wouldn't stretch over her stomach, so she had been wearing her button up shirts that gave a bit more leeway.

But now her buttons weren't doing up. She had worn her button up shirt for the morning but it was far too tight and she needed to change before she felt sick.

(Y/n) didn't have any other work shirts that were the right size, but lucky for her, both her men had a lot of work clothes that would fit over her six-month baby bump.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Evan pressed his back up against the locker and folded his arms over his chest, making no effort to move or look away.

He quite liked the view he was getting right now. He watched with a grin as (Y/n) unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it over to him so he could put it in her locker he was leaning against. His eyes remained glued to her frame as she stood in her dark navy trousers and matching blue bra. (Y/n) was lucky that when her work trousers wouldn't do up at the clasp, she had some elasticated trousers that were the same colour which she could use for work.

She knew she was lucky she was even still allowed to go out on calls at the moment.

Bobby was monitoring each call (Y/n) went on, she could go on the small, non-evasive callouts and help as a medic. But no heavy lifting, no going into burning buildings or evactuating dangerous situations. No going into the scene at a car crash, she had to stay on the side lines and await orders.

Restricted duties had never felt so boring.

"I won't be able to fit in the truck soon." (Y/n) cast a look over her shoulder when Evan wolf-whistled at her.

She was only joking, mostly.

She was grateful to still be able to work even if that meant stocking the trucks and the ambulance and tidying up or hanging back on most of their calls. She still got to try and help and be somewhat useful, and at least one of her boys was always on shift with her at the moment which was a bonus.

(Y/n) grabbed Evan's shirt and reeled it over her head, smiling triumphantly when she dragged it over her stomach and it fit. It felt a little snug around the waist but it fit and it was loose on her shoulders. As long as she could breathe and move without feeling like a belt was wrapped around her torso, she would be happy.

She tucked it into the hem of her trousers just as she felt Evan's hands clamping down on her hips. His chest pressed up into her back and he kissed the top of her head again.

"Lookin' good." He whispered quietly into her hair before he pulled back and leaned down to drag his shirt over his head and slide his arms into his shirt.

(Y/n) could feel him hovering close behind her when they left the locker room and headed over to the stairs. It seemed to take forever to climb the stairs and (Y/n) was suddenly glad they all lived in a bungalow. It didn't help that her headache was starting to come back with a vengeance and that combined with how lightheaded she felt made her feel like she had vertigo.

Evan's hands found her hips by the time they reached the top of the stairs and he gave her a tight squeeze before he veered off to the right to go and sit down at the table. While (Y/n) made a beeline for the fridge; she wanted a drink to ward off her headache.

It was no secret that the job they all had was stressful and time consuming and that meant they didn't always get to eat or drink regularly enough. (Y/n) had stockpiled the fridge with bottles of water and juice so if anyone wanted one, they could snatch one on the way to a call.

She had been collared enough by Eddie telling her she needed to drink more after she became very dehydrated a few months back. And she would be damned if she let that happen again.

(Y/n) barely had chance to open the fridge before her shoulders hunched up and she cringed when the alarm sounded.

She heaved the door open, grabbed a bottle of orange juice and shut the door just in time to come face to face with Bobby. He dried his hands, checked the oven wasn't turned on, and went to leave the kitchen until (Y/n)'s eyes fell on him.

"Am I on this one?" She had to have Bobby's express permission about which callouts she was allowed to join.

If she couldn't join, (Y/n) ended up tidying up the station, filing some paperwork and doing inventory. The station had never looked so organised since (Y/n) had been put on restricted duties and as much as she didn't want to admit it, she was glad now that she was on light duties. These last two or three weeks had been tiring and (Y/n) was flagging. She was at the point of telling the boys they were right and she had to take things easy. The baby was draining her energy.

Bobby tilted his head up and paid close attention to the dispatch notes to see where they were going. An accident at a bike race downtown. nothing too serious or major, no threats. (Y/n) could join this one.

"Hop in the truck."

She smiled and nodded in response, letting Bobby speed in front of her before she followed along behind him. Evan was already halfway downstairs with Hen and when (Y/n) reached the stairs, Eddie was up from the sofa and stood behind her ready to follow along.

Her head tilted back to look up at him when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Have you shrunk?" Eddie scrunched up her shirt and gave it a small tug as he raised a brow and quirked a smile.

"Quite the opposite," (Y/n) whispered back before she reached her free hand out to hold the railing as they made their descent downstairs.

"I told you." He muttered quietly as he followed her down. Eddie was the one who had been telling (Y/n) for the last few weeks that she needed to change her uniform and start taking things easy. She had been living in denial, desperate to carry on as normal with both her dress code and trying to do her part on the job. It looks like she would finally start to listen to him.

Eddie let his eyes dance across the station towards the truck everyone was aiming towards, and he let his gaze drift away from (Y/n) for a few seconds. But when he looked back down at her, he narrowed his eyes and reached his arm out to curl around her waist. She had slowed down rather than speeding up considering they needed to get into the truck and be on their way.

"Alright?" He mumbled into her hair as he glued his chest up against her back and let his hand flutter along the curve of her stomach.

She hummed and nodded, taking a deep breath as her fingers clenched around the bottle in her hand that started to creak and crumple from her force.

She had a headache.

Her head felt like it was slowly being pumped full of air and the feeling made her skin prickle and come over with shudders and a wave of heat. It was like an odd sense of a hot flush despite her fingertips being cold and a little numb.

She could feel Eddie's hand move to cup her hip when they headed over to the truck. Bobby was in the front with Samuel who was driving, Hen was in the ambulance and Evan and Chimney were already seated in the back of the truck.

(Y/n) tossed her bottle onto the nearest seat and propelled herself up but the moment she got into the truck, it was like her head suddenly weighed a ton. She reached her hand out and braced herself on Evan's knee so she could slump down into the seat next to him with a thud. Her head fell back against the headrest and she closed her eyes, clenching her hand around Evan's knee tight enough to make him frown.

"What's up?" He spoke loud enough to catch Eddie's attention who barely sat down before his head snapped up to look across at both his partners.

Eddie grabbed his belt and snapped it in before he leaned across with his elbows braced on his knees and his hands tight together between his thighs. He reached out and nudged his foot against (Y/n)'s leg when she didn't say anything and stayed rather tense like she was praying.

"Babe?"

"Just a dizzy spell, I'm good."

(Y/n) took a deep breath and released her grip on Evan's thigh and when she opened her eyes, she was relieved that the spots had vanished and her head finally started to simmer down. Her smile reassured the boys just a little but she could see the apprehension in their eyes.

She reached back and grabbed her belt, huffing and muttering a quiet 'Christ' when she had to wrench it to fit it around her stomach. She felt like she had gained three stone in the last two weeks but it was only because she hadn't had that many shifts. She hadn't even been in the truck on her last two shifts because all the callouts were 'too demanding' and serious for her to join.

"Have a drink." Evan reached out for her drink and held it out to her after she grabbed her headset and slumped them over her ears. He draped his arm around the back of her shoulders and turned to look over her head so he could see out the window.

"So, one more month, then you'll be leaving us." Chimney smiled across at (Y/n) from where he was sat opposite Evan, next to Eddie.

She only had one more month on duty, then she would be off on maternity leave. It would be too much stress and hassle working while she would be seven months pregnant. And Bobby had to pull a few strings to let Eddie and Evan both have the same three weeks off work for when the baby was born. It meant the station would be down three of their main workers.

There was a replacement in line for (Y/n) since she was having the longest time off and Bobby was currently searching for two people to come in for a month while the boys were off.

"You gonna miss me?"

"Don't know what we're gonna do without you."

A grin pulled at (Y/n)'s lips despite the headache flooding through her temple again when Bobby piped up and leaned to look in the back of the truck. None of them coped well when they had to have a shift or a change in structure or their team. It would take them a few weeks to get used to a new person being around, and then once they were used to it, (Y/n) would be back and everything would shift again.

"Baby you'll be sick," Evan mumbled against (Y/n)'s hair as he moved his hand off her shoulder and pushed the drink down before she guzzled it all in one go.

(Y/n) nodded and capped the drink, setting the bottle down beside her but she could feel Evan tutting into her hair. She had downed three quarters of it in one go. He knew what would happen, she would down it all and then throw it up, especially since it was orange juice and very acidic. It was what happened when she had morning sickness.

She would throw up, become thirsty, guzzle too much of anything and then throw it back up again because her stomach wasn't settled.

(Y/n) reached her hand up and held onto Evan's hand that was resting on her shoulder. She leaned back into him and closed her eyes, wincing every time the truck went over a bump that jostled her stomach and sent her head reeling. She managed to cross one leg over the other and reached her foot out until she could brush the end of her boot up and down Eddie's leg.

She prayed her headache would lift soon. (Y/n) almost fell asleep by the time to truck rolled to a stop at the park. She shuffled to the right as Evan unbuckled and patted her knee to let her know they were here. She stayed in her seat to let Evan hop up and lead the way off the truck, followed swiftly by Chimney.

A gentle smile lit up Eddie's face as he took off his headset and removed his belt. He pushed up and leaned over (Y/n), swiping the headset from her ears before he squeezed her thigh, muttering a quiet 'come on baby.'

(Y/n) grumbled but complied, unclipping her belt as she shifted and cracked her spine back into place. But when she opened her eyes, her heart jumped up into her throat.

She couldn't see.

Horrible black and white spots sparkled in front of her eyes like shimmering diamonds, covering over half of her vision until she could barely see Eddie stood in front of her. Just when Eddie went to climb down, he stopped and turned back around when (Y/n)'s hands clamped down on his wrist and yanked him back to her. A panicked gasp caught in the back of her throat and her nails scratched into his arm and made him shiver in panic.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Eddie turned back to face her and crouched down until her knees pressed into his chest and he could smooth his hands up and down her thighs.

"I- fuck!" (Y/n) kept her hand deadlocked around Eddie's wrist but she moved her other hand to furiously rub her eyes and try to apply some pressure to her temple to see if it would help. Her head tilted back in the seat and she took a few deep breaths to see if it would do anything to make the air disappear and clear the spots from her eyes.

"Are you having pains? Baby look at me please." He pushed up to crouch over her and pinched her chin in his hand while his other hand moved to try and get her to open her eyes.

(Y/n) didn't want to open her eyes in case the spots danced in front of her eyes again but when she dared to open them, a sudden wave of relief overtook her. She could see him again. The spots felt like flashing blinkers that were fading into the background. They became little dots and flickers that she barely noticed and she could see her loving partner hovering over her with a very panicked expression.

"No… oh, just a bad head. It's going now," She tried to smile and released the grip she had on Eddie's wrist when she realised she was squeezing him a bit too tight.

"Baby you should sit this one out-"

"Hey, what are you two doing? Come on, we gotta go." Evan hopped up on the bottom step and leaned into the truck far enough to swat his hand down on Eddie's backside. He grinned at the glare Eddie shot his way over his shoulder and reached out for (Y/n)'s waist when she stood up and held his shoulder as she bypassed Eddie and climbed down.

"She's not feeling well."

(Y/n) pressed her lips together tightly, praying Bobby hadn't heard Eddie's little remark. She didn't need him telling her to sit this one out when she was already here now. There was no point sitting and waiting in the truck feeling like a useless, spare part. She wanted to help while she still could.

Moving to the side of the truck, (Y/n) opened up the hatch and grabbed the medic bag but she barely hooked the strap over her shoulder before Eddie stood in front of her. She thought he was about to tell her to hang back but he just stared her down with a silent, unhappy expression before he took the bag from her and slung it on his shoulder.

"Hey-"

"You're carrying enough already, come on." Evan pressed his hand to her lower back and nodded at her to start walking.

She was about to tell him she wasn't carrying anything at all until she realised he was referring to the baby. Her hand absentmindedly moved to rub along her stomach as they walked just behind the rest of the team.

They cut across the grass and bypassed the crowds hovering around so they could get onto the track. They were in the local park. A bicycle race had taken place this morning but someone had crashed and caused a pile up. Another station and another two ambulances were in tow just behind them to help as they were told they had a few casualties.

"Alright, spread out team you all know what to do. Direct anyone that can walk over to the medic tent set up across the field. Shout when you're ready to transport."

Bobby waved his hand out as a signal for everyone to pick a casualty to help. They needed to get everyone prepped and stable to be transported down to the hospital if they needed treatment. A few of the bikers could get away with a bandaid or a few stitches here and now.

"Off we go," Evan whispered quietly against (Y/n)'s temple as he handed her his medic bag and moved to help Chimney.

(Y/n) took a deep breath to fight off her dull headache and plastered a calm smile on her face. She looked around before moving towards a man sat next to his bike. He looked rather calm and relatively unharmed, she could patch him up and send him over to the paramedics at the tent. It didn't take long to get his broken hand in a splint, bandaged up and him sent on his way to the medical tent for another quick observation.

But once he was off, (Y/n) bowed her head and pressed her hand to her back.

She felt sick.

Her head was swimming. She wanted to throw up, sit down and go to sleep all at once. The spots were coming back in front of her eyes. Little flashing sparkles glazed across her vision and made her head ache and spin and twist horribly. It felt like someone was hitting her repeatedly with a hammer. Maybe she needed another drink. Maybe she was coming down with something. Perhaps she needed to take things a bit slower from now on.

"Oh no- no, someone else can treat me."

Her head lifted up and she looked around to search for the owner of that voice. Whoever it was sounded angry, disgusted and full of sizzling pain.

Her eyes found Hen, knelt down beside a man who was laid just off the side of the track. He was propped up against a tree, both hands cradling his leg as he groaned and tried to stop fidgeting and moving around. But when he looked back up at Hen, he shook his head and leaned away from her. He was refusing to have her treat him.

Hen groaned and turned to look over her shoulder and when her eyes locked with (Y/n), she waved her over.

"Oh God," (Y/n) mumbled quietly as she straightened up and moved her hand from her back to cradle her abdomen. She tried to plaster a smile back on her face as she slowly walked across the grass verge towards them with apprehension in her steps. This didn't feel like it was going to go over well.

"This is (Y/n), is she more to your liking?" The sarcasm dripped from Hen's voice but she did well to control her expression as she got up and backed a few feet away.

He looked to be in his mid-twenties, his helmet was tossed on the floor beside him. He had a very deep gash cut through the back of his knee and it was bleeding out. He needed a turniquet on his leg to stem the bleed, some morphine and they had to check his artery wasn't cut in the process. Then he would have to be a priority to head to hospital to be stitched up.

(Y/n) leaned her hand on the tree and carefully lowered herself down on her knees next to him. She landed with a thud but it felt better to be knelt down than to be stood up with a what felt like vertigo overwhelming her.

"Sir, can I take a look at your leg?"

"God, don't you have any real medics in your squad?"

"I beg your pardon?" The headache pounding behind her eyes got worse and (Y/n) leaned back to rub her hand across her temple. She wasn't in the mood to have some racist, mysoginist demand the best help they had when he wasn't in peril and they were all perfectly adequate at their jobs.

When he refused to answer her and didn't even bother to look at her, (Y/n) turned to look up at Hen. Was he being serious? Was he really refusing their help, refusing treatment, because they were women? What time did he think he lived in, the nineteen-twenties?

"Diaz." Hen waved her hand over towards Eddie who was pointing someone in the direction of the paramedics.

"Diaz? What kind of name is that? Where's he from?"

A frown formed on Eddie's lips and he planted his hands down on his hips as he walked over towards them. He stood behind (Y/n), close enough that he could feel her shoulders pressing back into his thighs. He caught his breaths back and looked between both girls as he waited to be told what was going on, but they didn't need to say much. Their expressions told him they had a tough patient here.

"My dad's Mexican," When the man tutted, Eddie almost smiled. "My mother's Swedish, would you like me to help you with the Swedish half… although I don't know which half that is." Eddie held his hands out before he placed them back down on his hips. This man wasn't going to be satisfied with anyone but a white, privellaged male doctor with an old fashioned name.

"Oh come on, get one of the professionals-"

"Sir, you have three trained medics here trying to help you." Hen jutted a hip out to the side and clasped her hands together in front of her to stop herself from going off on a tangent.

"Trained? He's from the boarder, I don't want to guess where you're from and she's as good as a hormonal teenager. Should she even be here in that condition?"

A rumbling set in around them as the atmosphere changed and all of them could feel it. (Y/n)'s eyes widened and she turned her head to look behind her up at Eddie. He was fuming. She could see his hands starting to shake and his jaw tightened until his teeth were grating together and clicking from side to side. The end of his nose crinkled and he took a very deep breath to calm himself down before he said something he shouldn't.

"I'll inform my Captain that you've refused medical treatment. Feel free to sit there as long as you like." The smile on Eddie's face was laced with sarcasm while he reached down and picked up (Y/n)'s medic bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"I didn't-"

"Sir, you've turned down three medics, not to mention you've just insulted each of us. We have other patients we can tend to." Hen picked up her own bag and turned to find another patient.

When (Y/n) turned to the right, Eddie reached his hands out in front of her to offer to pull her up.

His hands curled around hers and he effortlessly hoisted her up to her feet. Once she was stood in front of him, his hands moved to hold her hips and he smothered his lips against the back of her head as he turned her around and started to guide her away. He wasn't having her around someone like that, he was getting aggressive and that was a danger. And if he refused all three of them, then he was refusing to accept treatment and they couldn't force him to accept their help.

Someone would come along who he was happy with and then he would get the help he needed. Eddie would keep an eye in this direction and tell Bobby what had happened. The man might be satisfied if Bobby helped him since he was a Captain, or they could send Evan his way.

Eddie kept his hand against (Y/n)'s lower back but just as they walked towards the middle of the field where Bobby, Chimney and Evan were all grouped, (Y/n) stopped.

She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth while her other hand clamped down on her hip. (Y/n) turned her head to the left and closed her eyes, doing her best to take in a deep breath and ward off the sudden wave of sickness that washed over her.

"You okay babe?"

"Hm." (Y/n) nodded, keeping her eyes closed as she swallowed and gulped a deep breath but it seemed to make her feel worse.

Her hands moved to grip her thighs and she doubled over, leaning as far forwards as she could to throw up onto the grass. She felt Eddie's hand curve round from her back to hold her hip and his other hand moved to grip her hand in case she lost her balance.

Her throat burned when her lunch crawled back up along with all the fluids she had tried to drink this morning. When she couldn't stop heaving, her stomach twinged and pulled inwards as she gasped for a proper breath.

"Try and breathe for me baby… let's get you back in the truck." Eddie rummaged around in the bag on his shoulder and found a wad of gauze. He handed it out to (Y/n) when she finally stopped being sick and she took it gratefully. His hands cupped her hips and he gently reeled her back up, letting her lean back into his chest while his eyes locked with Evan.

"Are you alright?" Hen bit the corner of her lip and smiled sadly at (Y/n). She had given the boys a reason to end her shift early. She couldn't stay on shift when she'd been sick.

(Y/n) couldn't find the will to speak but she managed to nod her head, covering up a wince when it made her head spin.

"We're almost done here, why don't you wait back in the truck?" Bobby's words were an order, not a suggestion and (Y/n) knew it. She let Eddie walk her back to the truck and when she got up, she felt like someone had drained her into a puddle.

She barely heard Eddie whisper to shout for him if she needed anything and she didn't realise she was nodding and smiling until his touch retracted and she was suddenly alone. Her head slumped against the window and her hands rubbed up and down her thighs until she was scratching her nails into her thighs through her trousers.

She didn't feel good.

It didn't take long for the team to finish up and pile back into the truck. Chimney drove the empty ambulance back to the station while Evan, Eddie and Hen rode back in the truck with Bobby and (Y/n).

(Y/n) felt Eddie sit down next to her and she didn't say a word when he pulled her belt round and placed the headset back over her ears. But when he pressed the back of his hand against her temple, (Y/n) grumbled and pulled away. She slumped her cheek onto his shoulder and curled her hands around his arm. She just wanted to get back to the station and try to sit down and have a drink.

"You're flushed," Eddie commented quietly while he moved his fingers to grip her wrist and feel her pulse.

"It's just a headache." She murmured into his skin while Evan sat down on her left and moved his hand to hold her thigh. He took to looking out the window, he knew it was pointless trying to argue with (Y/n). He would talk to Bobby when they got back about taking her home and he and Eddie wouldn't give her a choice.

She needed to rest.

The journey felt a lot less frantic than it did earlier because they were taking a slow ride through traffic. No sirens wailing trying to deafen them, no sharp corners or twisting stomachs from the speed and sharp bends they took. Cruising in the truck felt a lot nicer. But (Y/n) could still feel every bump they went over. She could feel the jolts shooting up her spine and her head lolled back against the seat until it felt like she had a concussion.

When they went over a particularly hard bump, (Y/n) opened her eyes, unable to hide her groan when she realised the dots were blurring her vision again.

Her hands moved to run down her face before she leaned her head back and moved her hand to grip and pull on Evan's arm.

"I- I'm gonna be sick!"

"Cap, pull over, (Y/n) needs to get out." Evan reached his arm behind him and swatted his hand on Bobby's shoulder to grab his attention. They had nothing in the back here for (Y/n) to throw up into and no equipment to help her if she needed a drink or fluids or an exam.

Eddie swiped the headset off his head and did the same to (Y/n)'s before he got up and opened the door when Bobby pulled over on the curb. Eddie hopped down and turned around just as (Y/n) and Evan stumbled out. He was surprised how fast (Y/n) moved but his arms reached out for her when she doubled over and threw up when she barely got onto the pavement.

"Alright, baby let's sit you down." He kissed the back of her head and slowly lowered them both down until they were kneeling on the floor. While Evan moved to stand behind her, both his hands gripping her shoulders to try and give her some comfort.

"Hen-"

"I'm on it." She rounded the side of the truck and grabbed one of the medic bags from the compartment before she moved to kneel on (Y/n)'s other side near Evan.

Eddie placed a monitoring clip on her index finger while (Y/n) closed her eyes and tilted her head back into Evan's chest.

She let Hen take her left arm and slip a blood pressure cuff up around her bicep. The tightening, numb feeling made her head spin and sent her stomach jolting again. Having her blood pressure taken always made (Y/n) feel like her arm was being chopped off and it made her hand go numb.

"BP's elevated and pulse is racing." Hen slipped the cuff off (Y/n)'s arm and listened to her heartbeat. She tried to keep a calm expression, despite feeling both men staring into her when she moved the stethoscope to press it against (Y/n)'s stomach. "Fetal heartbeat sounds good."

Evan sighed and kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head, smiling into her skin as he whispered a quiet 'baby's good' into her hair.

"It's h-happening again."

"What is?" Eddie looked (Y/n) up and down before he glanced up at Evan but his expression was blank, morphing into confusion. Neither of them knew what she was talking about.

"Spots." (Y/n) flailed her free hand around her face until she could point to her eyes. She tried to open them but all she ended up doing was blinking furiously like she was trying to get sand out her eyes. She couldn't see properly. Black spots were dancing across her eyes like they had earlier in the truck with Eddie. She was either going to pass out or she was having vision problems as a sign for something else.

Her hand gripped Evan's wrist on her shoulder when Hen leaned over her and lifted her eyelid so she could flash a light across her pupils. "I think you might be developing pre-eclampsia."

"Dispatch, this is Captain Nash. We're going to redirect to Mercy General, we have a firefighter down. Please advise a midwife to be on standby." Bobby placed his free hand on his hip as he did a quick sweep around. Chimney would be back at the station by now which was a good thing, he could man the station while they turned right and made a quick stop to the hospital.

"Let's get you back inside, babe."

Reaching down, Evan looped his hands beneath (Y/n)'s arms when Eddie and Hen held one of her hands each. He bent his knees and slowly pulled (Y/n) up until she was back on her feet but his lips pressed together tightly when her head fell back on his shoulder and a groan tumbled past her lips.

"Don't you pass out on us, hm?" Evan pecked her temple and turned her around to face the truck. His arms cocooned into her waist and his hands held her stomach.

He could feel Hen hovering nervously behind him while Bobby got back in the truck and Eddie climbed up in front of them so he could reach down for (Y/n)'s hands and pull her up.

Once she was up, (Y/n) let her head slump forward into Eddie's chest and her knees caved. She didn't feel Evan digging his hands into her skin as he pulled her back into him and twisted to the side to ease her down into one of the seats. They strapped her belt round her and Eddie let her head slump back on his shoulder so she wasn't at risk of falling forwards and crumpling over like a piece of paper.

Evan kept one hand on (Y/n)'s stomach while he stretched his other arm across the back of her and Eddie's seats. He leaned forward to kiss the back of (Y/n)'s head while Eddie brushed his thumb across her jaw.

"What're we gonna do with you, hm?"

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley imagine #pregnancy #pregnant! reader #911 imagine #imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #eddie x buck #eddie diaz imagine #buck x eddie #eddie x reader #bobby nash

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so-i-did-this-thing · 2 months ago

Note

Hi!! I have an event coming up where I get to attend a luncheon with a bunch of historians as well as a talk by an incredibly important Dr. And it’s my first time meeting this group. So. A wee bit nervous.

I’m not out as trans, I still very much pass for a cis woman and get very dysphoric in women’s clothing. I’m also going to be the only person under 55 there by almost 30 years. But here’s what I really want to ask: what in christs name are you supposed to wear to an event like this, where you’re kinda flying on the assumption the majority will not be overly keen on trans folk and even a “cis woman” in a men’s suit is already drawing attention.

I’m a chronic thrifter, I’ve not bought anything not from the charity shop in years. So. I’ve got a few options: a lilac French cuff shirt and plain trousers and solid tie, a 3pc brown cotton suit, a white wool suit (black shirt and gold tie??), a plain linen shirt and trousers with a brown knit vest, or just go for it and forgo formality altogether and wear the most science class teacher Bill Nye setup I have? Your style is, to be honest, what I take a lot of inspiration from.

Sorry, I hate to bother with silly asks! But I’m quite nervous and travelling to a new part of the country for this. I love dressing in vintage clothes (or getting clothes to appear as vintage as possible) and I really want to put on a good impression! I feel if I wear solid browns I’ll blend in or even stand out more (6’1” with hip long black hair isn’t helping). Again, so sorry for asking especially since I don’t have photos and it’s really not your responsibility! Have a lovely day!

Howdy! I'll welcome others to weigh in, but "plain linen shirt and trousers with a brown knit vest," feels very academia to me and rather gender neutral. Also, fairly easy to pack and prep. But are there photos from past luncheons with this group? How do the speakers dress? I'm finding events like these getting more and more casual, though I can't speak for your industry.

I don't think it's silly at all to be nervous, and I hope the luncheon goes smoothly!

#trans stuff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months ago

Text

Unorthodox 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you bring order to the disordered life of Captain Syverson.

Characters: Captain Syverson, this reader is known as Izzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You’re shown to a room of your own. It’s a luxury in your line of work. You often share the back of the truck or some cramped space with your boss. You look forward to a night without Syverson’s rumbling snores.

As you remove your harness and vest, a knock thumps on the door. You answer and find a man with a pile of fabric in his hands. He gives it to you without a word and leaves, a rifle across his back. You frown and shut the door.

The accommodations are acceptable. There’s a bed, a side table, and a fan. Nothing fancy but better than a cot or a car seat. Or your favourite, the ground.

You hold up the patterned swath of silk and let it unfold. The long caftan is cool and sheer. It might not be your usual attire but it’s preferable to your dusty cargo pants and sweaty cotton shirt. You shake out your clothes as you undress then throw the swishy fabric over your head. You feel almost human.

Another pounding comes at the door. You hear a snort as you approach and know before you answer it, who it is. Sy waits on the outside. He wears the same thing he showed up in; dirty cargo and camo. He blinks at you dumbly and grimaces.

“What the hell is that?” He flicks a thick finger at you.

“What?”

“What’re you wearing, Iz? You look like my mammy.”

“Shut up,” you jab him and turn back. You push your feet into your boots and tramp back to him. He chuckles at the clomp of the heavy soles.

“Naw, I mean it, Iz, you pack that get-up or what?”

“No, it was... given to me. I don’t know.” You cross your arms and look down with a shrug. “I thought... Well, it seemed nice.” You look up and narrow your eyes. “Wait, why’re you bothering me anyway?”

“Hungry, ain’t ya?” He scoffs.

“Sure.”

“So come on, I’ll show ya the mess.”

You cluck and step out into the hall. After settling from the jump, your stomach has turned ravenous. You wish you were at Retro’s, gnawing at hot wings and downing martinis. Alas, you have work. Well, you’ve had worse than this.

“Thank,” you grumble.

He’s quiet as you walk through the halls. Others pass or follow in your stead. He toys with a flap on one of his many pockets.

“Tired?” He asks.

“Mm? Oh, yeah. Kinda.”

“Get that adrenaline kickin’ and you sleep like a black bear in winter.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” you chuckle. “Maybe you though. You’re pretty good at it.”

“Good at what?”

“Sleeping through the b—chaos,” you keep yourself from swearing.

“Ah, I guess. Not much of a skill.”

You shrug. He can be awkward sometimes. Mostly when he talks. When you first started, he didn’t say too much, now he tends to force himself too.

“Here we are.” He points you to a door.

You peer down the hall and step out of the way of the men in civvies milling around. Sy opens the door without knocking and nudges your lower back to urge you inside. You stumble in as a figure stands to greet you. Conrad smiles and tilts his head.

“I don’t like to presume things about you Americans but it is rather uncourteous not to knock,” he reproaches.

“Eh,” Sy grunts.

“Then again, it is you,” Conrad snickers back. He moves around the table in front of him. There’s a bottle of wine and glasses, a few cans of beer, and food that isn’t served in tin or vacuum seal. “And you, I do hope the attire suffices. It was all I could scrounge, I regret.”

“Uhhh, it’s good. Er, pretty.” You look down and touch the silk.

“Feel free to take it with you. That colour is immaculate on you.”

“Ha, er, thanks.”

Sy marches forward and claims a seat with a huff. He shows no patience as he reaches for the dish of seasoned chicken. You come forward and Conrad rounds the table to pull out another chair. You thank him as you sit and your brutish boss glances over at the gesture.

“Shiraz? Does that suit you?” Conrad grabs the bottle wine and a glass.

“I’m not picky,” you assure him.

“Yes, but I hate to leave a women disappointed,” he winks and pours you a glass.

“What’s in here?” Sy interrupts as he holds up a bowl.

“Olive? Rosemary, bit of red vinegar. How about a brew, eh?” He grabs a can and offers it.

“I’ll have what she’s havin’,” Sy insists through a mouthful.

“You may help yourself. As you have done.” Conrad clunks down the bottle between your and Sy’s plates.

He sits and offers to serve you before he does himself. You don’t mind the attention though it does strike you as a bit overdone. You have an extra scoop of curry as the aroma drives you mad.

Conrad watches as you taste the wine and Sy slurps from his own glass. Your boss tuts and puts it down heavily. He scrapes his plate loudly with his fork as you only just start to poke at your own fare. The other man is uninterested in the meal as he stares you down.

“Please, you must tell me, how did you end up here at my table?” Conrad purrs.

You chew slowly and look over at Sy. He narrows his eyes and shovels more food into his mouth, a dribble catching in his beard. You stir the rice with your fork.

“I applied on a job board and interviewed and--”

“Ah, that sounds rather proper. Syverson, I thought you more the type to snatch up beautiful women.”

“Hm?” Sy grunts around a mouthful.

“And yet, a creature like this should be cozened. To have her jumping from planes? Tsk tsk. Oh, don’t tell me he’s had you living on beans and sleeping in dirt.”

“Her job...” Sy sneers over.

“It’s exciting, actually. My old job was just the same desk, same walls. I couldn’t even get the time off to go parachuting for fun so... not so bad.”

“Thrill seeker? Mmm, that’s intriguing. Have you ever been rock climbing? Not in a gym but on a real mountain?”

“You got barbecue sauce?” Sy interjects.

Conrad laughs again. He stands and goes over to the footlocker against the wall and opens the lid. He pulls out a bottle of a southern brand of sauce. The same you stocked for Sy. Hm.

“I have to be prepared for anything, not least of all the way you get when you’re hungry.” Conrad struts back and sets the bottle at Sy’s elbow. “I must admit, I wasn’t ready for you, darling.” He sits again and you’re certain there’s a low growl from your other side. No matter the perks, managing men is never simple.

#captain syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #series #au #bad bosses #unorthodox #sand castle

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