#year of the depend adult undergarment

[man-in-the-stocks]

First commercial break and it's Kristi Noem auditioning for VP and Christian healthcare ads. Also adult diapers.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

The King of the Forest (M) ~Bang Chan | 02

Pairing: WerewolfKing!Chan x HumanPrincess(now Queen)!Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Royalty | Mediaeval Setting Word Count: ~2k | AO3 Synopsis: You had one goal: get your husband’s expert opinion. It should’ve been a quick visit to his study… In hindsight, you should’ve known better. Warnings: pet names · mentions of murder · interruptions · pregnancy · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut)

Author’s Note: a follow-up to The King of the Forest that no one asked for, but i wrote a while back anyway because this idea wouldn’t leave my brain, so now i’m sharing it. hope someone else out there gets to enjoy it💜 especial thanks to @notastraykid for helping me out with this

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: mentions of public sex · oral [F.Rec]

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Being married to the King of the Forest, being crowned the Queen Consort of the Forest, entitled many things. You had to always take your subject’s needs into account, always had to try your best at providing them with a sense of security, of comfort, as if they were your own children.

You’d known this before you mated with Chris, before you became his wife and hopefully forever partner. You had also known how absolutely ravenous your husband was when it came to physical intimacy. You’d had a taste of it when he was courting you, during that year when you were planning your escape from your father’s home, but it seemed like that need for you had increased tenfold after you mated.

And, to be honest, you weren’t doing any better.

You weren’t sure how the mysticism of it all worked, but after getting marked by Chris as his mate, it was like you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It didn’t matter where you were, what you were doing, who you were with, if the need became unbearable it was just a matter of time before one of you acted on it.

It all got so much worse when you got pregnant.

You were horny all the time, your husband was always ready to give you any relief he could, not only that but he was horny all the time, too. He’d been complaining that he couldn’t be near you when he was working on anything particularly important, because as soon as he got a whiff of your scent, slightly altered with his pups now growing inside of you, got him hard immediately, and it made him a bit feral.

Which was how you ended up here, sitting on his desk, in his study, with his head between your legs.

You’d come here only to relay some messages the Royal Advisor had given you, to ask Chris’ opinion on the matter. It took a total of ten seconds after you’d stepped into his study for him to sit you on his desk, drop to his knees, tug your undergarments off of your legs, and for his tongue to find its way between your folds.

With your legs over his broad shoulders, your long skirt hunched up at your waist, your dear husband placed a hand on your small bump, stroking it softly with his thumb. With his other hand, Chris squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh as licked and sucked on your clit. He feasted on you as if his life depended on it, as if you both would die if he didn’t, and, in a way, you felt as if that would be exactly the case.

Quiet whines and moans fell from your lips as you felt sparks of pleasure travel through your body. With a hand on the desk behind you for stability and the other buried in Chris’ hair, tugging and pulling the soft strands between your fingers, you got completely lost in the feel of him. His satisfied groans and hums, his loving, yet still animalistic gaze, all of it combined with his diligent tongue had you so, so incredibly close to your release, there was just no doubt in your mind that he’d get you there soon, and, hopefully, you’d get his monster cock inside of you afterwards, too.

“Oh, darling…” You bit your lower lip, a poor attempt to contain the desperate sounds trying to leave your mouth, to keep your volume to a minimum. After all, you were in his study, anyone could walk by and hear you. It wasn’t like you particularly minded if they did, it just got you a bit bashful. Chris, on the other hand, didn’t care at all.

‘I’m the King, my love. I can do what I want, and if what I want is to have my gorgeous Queen screaming my name, uncaring of who hears, no one can stop me…’ Chris had told you once, in a low whisper against your ear, between pants and groans. With his chest against your back, a hand fondling one of your breasts over your gown, and the other on your hip, he told you this, casually, as if he wasn’t railing you against the wall of a very public–albeit usually empty–corridor in his den. ‘But if it makes you uncomfortable, as Queen, as the love of my life, as a person, you can also do whatever you want, including keeping quiet…Or trying to…’

“That’s so good, my dear, my heart…I’m so, so close…” You could barely speak, your voice came out in hushed whispers, even more so when Chris was looking at you with that glint in his eyes that always reminded you who he was, what he was. He just hummed in understanding, moving back up from where he’d been licking at your entrance, to suck your clit into his mouth.

You inhaled deeply, throwing your head back. Your legs started to tremble, his licks were getting faster, the pressure of his tongue and the gentle sucks of his lips were just right, so good your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were almost there, you could feel the tell-tale signs of your orgasm shining in the horizon, and it was just when you were going to finally reach it that–

“Your Majest–Oh, shit!”

The door of Chris’ study slammed open, your skeleton almost jumped out of your skin with the sudden thud of the door against the wall, and Chris immediately detached himself from your centre and covered you with your skirt.

He didn’t mind if people heard your sounds of pleasure, but he hated the mere thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only he could, or so he had told you once. 

“For fuck’s sake, Minho!” Frustration was rolling thickly off of your husband, and you almost whined at the loss of contact when he removed your legs from his shoulders and stood up from the floor, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “Someone better be dying!”

“I’m so sorry for interrupting your…marital affairs”, Minho had turned around and looked away as soon as he’d spotted you and your husband in the act, which you appreciated. “But this is of the utmost importance, my King”.

Chris sighed, adjusting his length, trying to make the tent in his trousers a bit less obvious. A very futile attempt, in your humble opinion, but if it gave him peace of mind, you wouldn’t comment on it. “Turn around. What the fuck is it now?”

Minho finally turned, and he regarded you with an apologetic smile, a bow, and a greeting of ‘Your Grace…’ before he directed his attention back to the King. “We received a magpie from the borders, Your Majesty”.

Minho handed Chris a piece of paper, which your husband took immediately to read it carefully. It was silent for a few seconds, and as soon as he was done, Chris sighed, bringing a hand to his hair and tugging the more than mussed curls on his head. “Was this all they said?”

“Yup. No further messages, Your Majesty”, Minho replied simply, crossing his arms behind his back and waiting for his King’s instructions.

Chris remained quiet for a minute, until he sighed again, folding the piece of paper. “Double patrol. Anything that happens in the forest, any whisper heard, I want to know it. Tell them to report every single thing they find out of place, any conversation they hear, any outsider they see. Everything. Got it?”

Minho hummed. “Understood, Your Majesty”.

“Good. Next time…shit, at least knock, Minho”, Chris walked back towards the desk, where you were still sitting, with one leg crossed over the other and resting your weight on both of your hands, listening intently. “You’re dismissed”.

“Understood, Your Majesty”, Minho said again, although this time, there was a hint of a smile in his voice, a hint of an amused tone. It didn’t surprise you, considering Chris and Minho grew up together. ‘He might as well be my brother’, Chris told you once.Even if Minho was the King’s assistant, he was probably one of the few people that could get away with making jokes at the expense of your husband, a very close second to you.

As soon as Minho left, closing the door behind him, Chris came to stand in front of you, dropping the piece of paper on his desk and sighing in annoyance as he placed his hands on your growing belly, with his eyes fixed on it.

You brought a hand to one of his, caressing the back of it as your eyes seeked his. “What happened?”

“Pup…” Chris’ eyes finally peeled away from your belly, fixing his gaze on your eyes instead. He looked a bit…worried. Just a bit, but enough to make you worry. “Remember…what I told you a handful of months back? After we mated?”

“You told me many things back then, my love”, you chuckled, trying to ease the tense mood that had settled in the room. 

A small smile made its way onto his lips, and he immediately leaned in to peck your lips. “When we spoke about…your father?”

You took a deep breath at that. Your father was one of those topics you tried to not talk about often. It angered you too much. Regardless, you did remember what Chris had told you back then, of course you did. “That you’ll kill anyone that tries to take me away from you”.

Chris hummed in confirmation, just as his thumbs started to trace circles on your belly. “Seems like your father’s looking for you”.

Your eyes widened a bit, and your soft caresses on the back of Chris’ hand stopped.

You honestly didn’t think your father would even try to look for you… You wondered if he even knew what had happened to you, if he had any theories at all, since you really didn’t leave anything behind to give any leads on your whereabouts.

“They have spotted people with your father’s crest roaming the forest, talking with locals in the nearby towns…Asking for any information on a missing woman whose description matches yours”, Chris brought one of his hands to your face, cupping your cheek so he could softly drag his thumb over your skin. “I doubt they’ll find their way here, but one can never be too sure… If it came to it, what would you want us to do?”

You looked your husband in the eyes for a moment. You knew there was no way you’d go back to your former life, much less now that you had the results of your love growing inside of you. “I’m willing to talk to my father… To give him closure. I probably should have done it before I left, but I honestly didn’t think he’d care”.

“And if he tries to take you back?”

“Then you’ll kill him”, you answered in a heartbeat, with no hesitation. A smile spread on Chris’ face, a genuine one, one that made his eyes disappear into adorable crescents, one that showed just how proud he felt. “Or I will. Whoever gets to do it first”.

Chris chuckled, pulling you in for a kiss. Looping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to you, uncrossing your legs so he could settle himself between them, holding your hips tightly.

“That’s my girl…” Chris mumbled against your mouth, and you would’ve chuckled, had it not turned you on so much.

Your legs wrapped around your husband’s waist, pulling him in further into you, just as his tongue made its way inside your mouth, its soft nudges against your own making you moan quietly. As you buried your fingers in Chris’ hair, as you raked your nails over his scalp and his clothed back, you couldn’t help but feel those familiar butterflies awaken in the pit of your stomach, and he clearly picked up on it.

In a few minutes, he was back on his knees, pushing your skirt out of the way again and bringing your legs to their rightful place on his shoulders. 

“Now, where were we, pup?”

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General Masterlist

[thenineofus]

Challengers (2024) was fun, but I think it should have made more explicit if it takes place during the Year of the Glad or during the Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment, becau- Pete, what do you want? I'm busy.

Excuse me, Ma'am, but the data analysis team felt that before posting that you needed to know something.

What is it?

Well, the data shows that no one who fucks ever read Infinite Jest, so they are unlikely to have seen the movie Challengers. The joke won't land with anyone but you and that guy who put all the James O. Incandenza films on letterboxd.

Is that so?... Hum.... Well, I'm gonna post it anyway, I think I can afford one more flop before we go bankrupt.

Do whatever you want, Ma'am, this bit has gone on for too long anyway

[cannotfly]

wardrobe.

( 1830-1859. )

girlhood/pre-canon. girlhood in this era defined by the length of the skirt. depending on age, the skirt would end at a different place. until the age of fourteen, her the hem ended at her knees. johanna wore pantalettes with corded petticoats and wide skirts. sleeves were nicknamed " o'mutton sleeves " and copied the styles of adult women as they got wider. this was until the end of the decade where they became smaller and tighter. on top of this ensemble, she wore a dinner apron ( later known as a pinafore ).

turkey red was popular between the ages of five and seven. fashions then changed to yellow calico dominating her wardrobe between the ages of seven and ten. skirts would hit the knee until she turned fourteen when they dropped to the calves.

two years later, they were at the ankles. by seventeen or eighteen, johanna was considered a lady. skirts fell to the floor. accessories wise, johanna always wore a bonnet outside. as a child, these complimented the fashionable sugar curls. along with her cross on a chain, she also had coral and turquoise necklaces. ribbons were popular for any age.

canon. blue is the color of freedom, but johanna is a caged bird. the 1840s took a sharp turn from the billhouting and extreme silhouettes of the previous decades. opting instead for more modest styles. the sleeves of day dresses were straight and typically-long sleeved. skirts saw a it more decoration, but mostly frills and lace were reserved for evening gowns. johanna's wardrobe was controlled by turpin, who had her dressed very modestly. white was his favorite color on her. the color of purity is rather see-through at times. johanna prefers blues and pinks and violets. feminine colors. the patterns of her dresses were typically of flowers. johanna knew how to make her own undergarments and nightgowns and was beginning to learn dressmaking out of pure boredom. this allowed her to make small alternations to her clothes. a neckline was too low for her comfort? she would add a stitch here and there and it would look perfectly natural.

at this point, undergarments consisted of a shift ( or chemise, as they were called in france ), a corset, a pair of open drawers ( drawers that had a slit in the crouch... not inteded for intimate purposes ) and several petticoats. skirts were full, getting closer to the fullness of the 1850s and 1860s. several petticoats were used to achieve this silhouette. some were corded to enhance the effect. johanna wore as many as six petticoats at a time. partly for fashionable purposes, but partly because she was cold. this came down to her health. she also wore two pairs of stockings at times. these would be held in place by garters, either made from ribbon or fancier ones that turpin provided.

in act one, she has bangs that she put herself. they curl, achieving a style more fashionable in the regency, but she adored her bangs. much of her time was spent doing her hair. whether it ended up being worn down or was tied into something more stylish, she played with it all day. she did own a bonnet, though it was only used once or twice.

accessories weren't very important to her, aside from her mother's wedding ring which she hid in various places around her room to prevent turpin from taking it from her and a cross necklace. the cross symbolized her devotion to god and her faith... and was partly used a fidget toy.

most of her stockings, dresses, handkerchiefs, shifts, petticoats, etc. had something embroidered on them. she was bored. she liked to sew.

in fogg's, the uniform consisted of a pair of holey stockings, a dark, coarse underskirt that fell six inches lower than the dress and that white, calico dress that tied with strings around the waist and fell into a straight skirt. there was a pair of drawers, but no supportive garment for the breasts. no corset, no stays, as the doctors believed patients could strangle themselves with them. a straw hat was provided for walks around the grounds.

post-canon. after loosing her mother's ring and the cross necklace, johanna begins wearing the string of pearls anthony bought has a late wedding present religiously. they become a great sense of comfort. as she entered the new decade, she embraced the new styles. however, she wasn't always on top of them due to a lack of resources. this didn't deter her. johanna began to make her own dresses.

sleeves became wider. skirts much fuller. decorations popped up. these changes were subtle and slowly became more popular as the decade went on.

undergarments were very much the same. shifts, stockings, open drawers, petticoats all were very similar. however, johanna got to start adding pockets under her skirts. turpin saw no reason for her to have them. but as a married women and homemaker, they became essential. johanna made and embroidered her own with help from her in-laws. pockets were separate from the dress for many centuries. during this period, they were tied around the waist ( above the corset and petticoats ) and would be reached via a gap between the side seam in the skirt.

dresses were typically made in two sections: the bodice and the skirt. this made it easier to get into them and made it possible to mix and match outfits.

blue, violet and pink reign supreme in her wardrobe. however, she begins to adapt shades of green and some red. black is banned from her wardrobe as she doesn't want to mourn turpin at all. white can only be found in a few patterns. yellow is also uncommon as she believed it washed her out and clashed with her hair.

at night, she prefers to sleep in her shift. due to an incident that happened when she was fourteen with turpin, nightgowns do not feel safe for her. this was a popular choice for women to sleep in during this time as it was affordable and practical. nightgowns were more popular among the middle and upper-classes.

when going out, johanna layered shawls the way she layered petticoats. several on top of each other. she learned how to make her own later on. living by the sea brought several cold days throughout the entire year. capes were popular among her social class when she lived with turpin for outdoor wear. but johanna didn't own a single coat or cape during the rest of her life. she much preferred layering shawls. she owned one or two bonnets that she resented wearing since they messed up her hair.

speaking of, her hair began to reflect her new lifestyle. usually own freely, she easily embraced how the salt in the air impacted her curl pattern, making them more like coils. her bangs had grown out while in fogg's. instead of cutting them back, she cut those pieces into layers. in the beginning of her marriage while anthony was still sailing, she would spend much of her time doing her hair as she was still learning how to run a household like theirs. as the decade progressed, she had less time on her hands as she learned new things and her children were born. this lead to casual braids or wearing it half-up and half-down. her devotion and love for her hair never wavers. there just wasn't as much time as previously for it.

[blink-echo]

CHRONOLOGY OF ORGANIZATION OF NORTH AMERICAN NATIONS’ REVENUE ENHANCING SUBSIDIZED TIME™, BY YEAR

Year of the Whopper

Year of the Tucks Medicated Pad

Year of the Trial-Size Dove Bar

Year of the Perdue Wonderchicken

Year of the Whisper-Quiet Maytag Dishmaster

Year of the Yushityu 2007 Mimetic-Resolution-Cartridge-View-Motherboard-Easy-To-Install-Upgrade For Infernatron/InterLace TP Systems For Home, Office Or Mobile (sic)

Year of Dairy Products from the American Heartland

Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment

Year of Glad

underrated fantasy thing is when authors want to avoid giving an actual earth year their story takes place so the characters say shit like "back in the Year Of The Skateboarding Dragon" and all the other characters are like ah yes how could we forget the crops were so plentiful the year that dragon did those sweet sweet kickflips

[nokindarider]

Year of the depend adult undergarment

[beautikinieeboy]

What Is Period Underwear & How Does It Work?

The menstrual cycle can put our bodies through a lot, and it constantly reminds us of its presence.

The average menstrual cycle lasts from 24 to 38 days, with a typical period lasting four to eight days, depending on the flow. We have made significant progress in the development of period products and our understanding of the menstrual cycle. New products are constantly being introduced to make our periods more comfortable and eco-friendly. So, what is the best option?

If you dislike using tampons and endure the uncomfortable feeling of traditional pads (we all know it's true), period underwear might be a great solution for you. But before we delve into period underwear, let's take a closer look at the existing options available on the market.

What are the different period products?

The most commonly used period products include:

Tampons- These are single-use products that have been associated with potential poisoning due to their toxicity.

Menstrual Underwear- These reusable garments can last for several years if cared for properly. They offer leak-proof protection and eliminate the health risks and environmental damage associated with many other products on the list.

Sanitary Towels - These are also single-use products and are less discreet compared to tampons.

Menstrual Cups- These reusable cups require some adjustment but are a popular alternative to tampons.

Washable Pads/Liners - These are reusable pads, although they may not be as comfortable and secure as other options.

So, what is the safest period product?

Each of these products has its own advantages and disadvantages, depending on your specific period needs and personal preferences. In terms of safety, external products that don't need to be inserted inside your body are generally considered the safest. Tampons, on the other hand, may pose a higher risk due to the potential dangers of toxicity if they are not properly removed or forgotten.

What are the alternatives to tampons?

As mentioned earlier, there is a good range of alternatives available. These include pads (both single-use and reusable), menstrual cups, and period underwear.

What can I use instead of pads during my period?

If you prefer using pads, you may not be inclined to use tampons or cups, as they involve internal insertion. In such cases, period underwear is the most practical option.

So, what exactly is period underwear?

Period underwear refers to washable and reusable undergarments specifically designed to replace pads and tampons or be used alongside tampons and cups for additional protection.

Despite the additional layer, you'll be relieved to know that period underwear doesn't feel like wearing an adult diaper. In fact, they generally look and feel just like regular underwear, ensuring a comfortable and non-bulky experience (thank goodness!).

While they may seem thin, they offer the added assurance of leakage protection. Period underwear is worn just like regular underwear, eliminating the need for any inserts. As a result, period pants are significantly safer than menstrual cups and tampons, as they carry no risk of toxic shock syndrome or injury.

Now that we have briefly explored the reasons why period underwear can make your period less stressful, let's delve into how they work.

How Does Period Underwear Work?

It's simple! Most period underwear is made from bamboo and merino wool, featuring multiple layers of specially designed fabrics that effectively draw liquid away from the body and trap it inside the underwear to prevent leakage.

Period underwear can typically hold up to the equivalent of two tampons' worth of menstrual blood. Some brands even incorporate small built-in capillaries to facilitate faster evaporation of moisture, which is particularly useful for activities like going to the gym or having a busy day at work.

Do You Wear Pads With Period Underwear?

No, there's no need to wear pads along with period underwear as they serve the same purpose, and adding a pad would only make it bulkier.

Can You Wear Tampons or Menstrual Cups With Period Underwear?

Most period underwear is designed to accommodate moderate to heavy flow, but the level of flow varies for each person. Depending on your flow, you can choose to wear period underwear alone or combine them with tampons or menstrual cups for added protection. On heavier flow days, using tampons or cups alongside period underwear might be more suitable, while on lighter flow days, or for individuals with consistently light flows, wearing period underwear alone would suffice. It's a matter of personal preference and finding what works best for you.

How Long Does Period Underwear Last?

With proper care, period underwear can last a long time. Regular washing, drying, and maintenance are essential to prolong their lifespan. Unlike single-use products such as tampons and pads, which generate significant waste, period underwear can be used for years, making them a more environmentally friendly option.

Can You Wear Period Underwear All Day?

Yes, you can wear period underwear throughout the day. The fabric used in period pants is designed to keep you dry and comfortable, preventing any wet feeling. The inclusion of antimicrobial technology in the fabric ensures hygienic protection. The waterproof lining, often made of Polyurethane Laminate (PUL) fabric, keeps the underwear leak-proof and is similar to the lining used in menstrual cloth pads and baby diaper coverings.

Period underwear should feel similar to wearing a pad but without the heaviness or dampness associated with disposable pads.

Does Period Underwear Cause Odor?

There may be some odor associated with menstruation due to the combination of blood and bacteria. However, when using period underwear, you should not experience any unusual odor during your day or while wearing the underwear. The antibacterial properties of the underwear are designed to minimize the smell of blood, and the breathable nature of the fabric helps to dispel any concerns about odor. Any potential odor may be related to old blood, but regular washing immediately after use will address this issue.

What Are the Major Benefits of Using Period Underwear?

Let's recap the major benefits of switching to period underwear or incorporating them into your existing routine:

Eco-Friendly: By using reusable period underwear, you can significantly reduce the waste generated by disposable pads and tampons, contributing to a more sustainable environment.

Comfort:Unlike traditional pads that can be uncomfortable, bulky, and prone to shifting, period underwearoffers comfort and freedom of movement. It provides reliable leak protection without compromising comfort, allowing you to engage in activities like exercising without worry.

Hygiene:Period underwear absorbs the liquid, keeping it away from direct contact with your skin, which helps protect against bacteria buildup and potential discomfort associated with wearing pads for extended periods.

Ease of Use: With period underwear, there's no need to struggle with insertion or worry about choosing the right absorbency level. Simply put on the underwear and go about your day. After use, rinse and wash them along with your regular laundry.

Backup Option:Period underwearcan serve as a backup for those using cups or tampons, providing an extra layer of protection against leaks. This versatility is particularly useful for new moms experiencing spotting or individuals with irregular cycles.

Period underwear offers a modern and convenient approach to managing menstruation. It is an eco-friendly, comfortable, hygienic, and cost-effective alternative to disposable products, allowing individuals to experience greater freedom and peace of mind during their periods.

[alaspoorwallace]

YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT

Doctors tend to enter the arenas of their profession's practice with a brisk good cheer that they have to then stop and try to mute a bit when the arena they're entering is a hospital's fifth floor, a psych ward, where brisk good cheer would amount to a kind of gloating. This is why doctors on psych wards so often wear a vaguely fake frown of puzzled concentration, if and when you see them in fifth-floor halls. And this is why a hospital M.D. — who's usually hale and pink-cheeked and poreless, and who almost always smells unusually clean and good — approaches any psych patient under his care with a professional manner somewhere between bland and deep, a distant but sincere concern that's divided evenly between the patient's subjective discomfort and the hard facts of the case. The doctor who poked his fine head just inside her hot room's open door and knocked maybe a little too gently on the metal jamb found Kate Gompert lying on her side on the slim hard bed in blue jeans and a sleeveless blouse with her knees drawn up to her abdomen and her fingers laced around her knees. Something almost too overt about the pathos of the posture: this exact position was illustrated in some melancholic Watteau-era print on the frontispiece to Yevtuschenko's Field Guide to Clinical States. Kate Gompert wore dark-blue boating sneakers without socks or laces. Half her face obscured by the either green or yellow case on the plastic pillow, her hair so long-unwashed it had separated into discrete shiny strands, and black bangs lay like a cell's glossy bars across the visible half of the forehead. The psych ward smelled faintly of disinfectant and the Community Lounge's cigarette smoke, the sour odor of medical waste awaiting collection with also that perpetual slight ammoniac tang of urine, and there was the double bing of the elevator and the always faraway sound of the intercom paging some M.D., and some high-volume cursing from a manic in the pink Quiet Room at the other end of the psych-ward hall from the Community Lounge. Kate Gompert's room also smelled of singed dust from the heat-vent, also of the over-sweet perfume worn by the young mental health staffer who sat in a chair at the foot of the girl's bed, chewing blue gum and viewing a soundless ROM cartridge on a ward-issue laptop. Kate Gompert was on Specials, which meant Suicide-Watch, which meant that the girl had at some point betrayed both Ideation and Intent, which meant she had to be watched right up close by a staffer twenty-four hours a day until the supervising M.D. called off the Specials. Staffers rotated Specials-duty every hour, ostensibly so that whoever was on duty was always fresh and keenly observant, but really because simply sitting there at the foot of a bed looking at somebody who was in so much psychic pain she wanted to commit suicide was incredibly depressing and boring and unpleasant, so they spread the odious duty out as thin as they possibly could, the staffers. They were not technically supposed to read, do paperwork, view CD-ROMs, do personal grooming, or in any way divert their attention from the patient on Specials, on-duty. The patient Ms. Gompert seemed both to be fighting for breath and to be breathing rapidly enough to induce hypocapnia; the doctor could not be expected not also to notice that she had fairly large breasts that rose and fell rapidly inside the circle of arms with which she hugged her knees. The girl's eyes, which were dull, had registered his appearance in the doorway, but they didn't seem to track as he came toward the bed. The staffer was also employing an emery board. The doctor told the staffer that he was going to need a few moments alone with Ms. Gompert. It is a sort of requirement that a doctor whenever possible be reading or at least looking down at something on his clipboard when addressing a subordinate, so the doctor was looking studiously at the patient's Intake and the sheaf of charts and records Med-Netted over from trauma and psych wards in some other city hospitals. Gompert, Katherine A., 21, Newton MA. Data-clerical in a Wellesley Hills real estate office. Fourth hospitalization in three years, all clinical depression, unipolar. One series of electro-convulsive treatments out at Newton-Wellesley Hospital two years back. On Prozac for a short time, then Zoloft, most recently Parnate with a lithium kicker. Two previous suicide attempts, the second just this past summer. Bi-Valium discontinued two years, Xanax discontinued one year — an admitted history of abusing prescribed meds. Depressions unipolar, fairly classic, characterized by acute dysphoria, anxiety w/panic, diurnal listlessness/agitation patterns, Ideation w/w/o Intent. First attempt a CO-episode, garage's automobile had stalled before lethal hemotoxicity achieved. Then last year's attempt — no scarring now visible, her wrists' vascular nodes obscured by the insides of the knees she held. She continued to stare at the doorway where he'd first appeared. This latest attempt a straightforward meds O.D. Admitted via the E.R. three nights past. Two days on ventilation after a Pump & Purge. Hypertensive crisis on the second day from metabolic retox — she must have taken a hell of a lot of meds — the I.C.U. charge nurse had beeped the chaplain, so the retox must have been bad. Almost died twice this time, Katherine Ann Gompert. Third day spent on 2-West for observation, Li-brium reluctantly administered for a B.P. that was all over the map. Now here on 5, his present arena. B.P. stable as of the last four readings. Next vitals at 1300h. The attempt had been serious, a real attempt. This girl had not been futzing around. A bona fide clinical admit right out of Yevtuschenko or Dretske. 

[...] [DFW, Infinite Jest, 14a]

[hush-syrup]

You have to learn to control this sort of oversensitivity to hard truths.

From Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace

[desertdollranch]

Hello! After the posts you made about Molly, I went a little crazy, and spent all night thinking, looking at websites, zooming in on images, and all that other odd stuff. I think I might have figured out what the 2018 Molly thing was about.

So I think most people know that Felicity had a rather messy re-release in 2017. She was released with a very small collection: doll (with a new outfit), accessories, undergarments (which the website said could double as sleepwear), books, and a mini doll. She didn’t sell very well at all, seeing as she had no other outfits, and was retired pretty quickly.

This brings me to Molly. My theory is that they expected the re-release of Felicity to sell well, and planned for Molly to be the next mini-rerelease after her. After Felicity failed, they didn’t go through with it, and had to get rid of stock in bundles. I have a few points of evidence for this.

1. The collection. From what we’ve seen of Molly’s Costco bundle, her collection was a doll, accessories, pyjamas, books, and a mini doll. Exactly the same as Felicity.

2. Nanea. AG says that historical characters take years to research, so Nanea was in the making since 2015 (approximately). I highly doubt AG wanted two forties dolls with full collections, especially if they were released within a year of each other. This supports the idea that Molly was supposed to have a tiny collection.

3. Timeline. The Molly books were put up in 2018. This is very shortly after the 2017 nightmare, and more importantly, Felicity. The fact the Beforever Molly books say “Molly” at the top and not “Beforever” mean they were made in 2017, based on when that change occurred.

In summary, I’m basically convinced that if Felicity sold well, Molly would have had the same re-release as her, possibly in 2018. Thanks for reading my crazy ramblings!

Not as crazy as you think! Your points are spot-on. Felicity's re-release was absolutely not well-received and it makes sense that it would scare AG from trying the same thing again with Molly, especially if they had no plans to give her a collection besides pajamas and accessories. Kids weren't interested in a doll that has no collection to speak of, and has to wear the same outfit all the time. And with the pictures removed from her books, makes it a lot harder for younger readers to imagine what Felicity's world looked like. The narrative depends on the illustrations to explain what isn't adequately described, like the pattens that Felicity wears on her shoes to keep her shoes from getting muddy. Molly's books, with the pictures removed, would have the same problem.

I also wonder if Molly's release at Costco instead of directly through AG had something to do with the eye controversy. All those Molly dolls ended up being given the cheap plastic "new eyes" that were almost universally hated by adult collectors. Those eyes pointed downward and looked startled (kind of like the doll was utterly horrified at the ugly shoes you're wearing). They were also way more likely to be set in the sockets unevenly or to not close all the way. It was a huge controversy by the latter half of 2018, with an Instagram campaign and lots of petitions, and in January 2019 American Girl announced that they had heard the criticism and were going back to the better quality metal eyes.

Bundling all of Molly's BeForever collection together and just getting rid of it at a lower price would be a smart and sensible way to clear out all of the inventory in equal amounts. Because I'm sure AG realized that releasing Molly with the bad eyes would have made her a lot less appealing to adult collectors.

Maybe now that BeForever has come and gone, and after the success of the 35th anniversary dolls, American Girl will try again with Molly and do a few things differently. She'll have the better quality eyes, and books with pictures. At the very least. Giving her a collection would be nice, but then their neglect of currently available historical characters will be even more obvious than it is now. Josefina, Samantha, Kit, and Addy have no collections at all besides their accessories.

[mysewingadventures]

Historical Accuracy of Costumes in Period Films - Enola Holmes

Disclaimer: I will put no spoilers so you can still read if you haven't seen the movie yet! This post is just me assessing the costumes and their historical accuracy.

First of all, since the movie came out I had already heard a lot about it in just those two days that I was very curious to see if it lived up to the hype and it truly did! It's well-made with round characters and a gripping story line. But enough about the movie, let's get on to the costumes.

The movie is set in 1884, and at first I thought she was born in 84 (because of the intro) so I did like a third of the movie thinking the costumes were outdated until I looked at a closeup of a newspaper and realized that it is set in 84, so yay for me. But anyways, here are the facts.

Enola is 16 years old, therefore considered a child/young woman in society and would be wearing children's clothing but we'll get to that later

There aren't many examples of children's clothing from that time so I'll have to refer to the few fashion plates that I can find.

This blue dress from the beginning of the film has basically everything one would expect from the very end of the 19th century, but not necessarily the 1880s. The loose front is a very end-of-the-century, more so even Edwardian thing, and from the fashion plates and magazines I could find it seems that children's clothing was heavily inspired by adult fashion. It has a very low waistline and is overall very straight. Enola's dress looks more 1900 except for the fitted sleeves which are accurate for the period. And the collar looks completely out of place. But, of course there’s always a but, this is just taking mainstream fashion into account. The Aesthetic Dress movement took place in the 1880s and the dresses would have looked somewhat similar to this one, with a loosely fitted front but they also had puffier sleeves, so it’s like they took some details from different movements and also took some inspiration from the Edwardians and put them all together in a dress.

Another thing I would like to add, (hence the advert - I had to make collages to fit 10 pictures in this post) I am not sure as it doesn't fit her character at all but she looks corseted in those pictures (I added the first one specifically because I think you're able to see the outline of a corset? Faintly?). Depending on your age and status and your parents' plans for you (aka if they wanted you to get married at 16), teens of that age would either wear a corset or not. But taking Enola's upbringing into account and it was rather uncommon for a 16 year old to be wearing a corset, not unseen but uncommon, I'd say that if the costume department decided to put Millie in a corset in that particular scene is historically inaccurate. There were corsets for young women/teens, but they didn't give you that extreme hourglass shape, they were straighter and didn't give you a tiny waist, like the bottom right one in this corset advert. Unfortunately, I could not find out when it's from but it should be somewhat close to the 1880s.

Next up, I would like to say that the length of the skirt they chose for Millie to wear is appropriate for a 16 year old! Unlike what we saw on Anne with an E...

At one point we get a look at her undergarments and they're looking fine for the time! The chemise and the drawers, she's obviously not wearing any petticoats as she's being measured but we saw a glimpse of a petticoat when she was riding a bike in an earlier scene so yes, this part is accurate.

Next up, I'd like to talk about this lady and her dress is just amazing, fashion plate worthy and absolutely accurate, I have nothing bad to say about this.

What I noticed overall in the movie was that the bustles weren't as extreme as I would have expected them to be, but it all had to do with personal preference so it's not necessarily historically inaccurate to see more lowkey bustles. But I didn't see one bustle that was just crazy in today's eyes so maybe they could have improved on that but I'm just nitpicking at this point. Or maybe I've just gotten so used to seeing old clothes that nothing shocks me anymore.

Here we can see some crinolines being sold and judging from their width they are somewhat outdated.

They could pass as maybe early 1870s if not even 1860s.

Now Enola wants to become a lady, so she has to wear adult clothes! Here, she goes into a shop and puts on her clothing. We can see here how poorly fitted the corset is; the lacing gap should be parallel but you can see in the mirror how it gets smaller towards the bottom. Maybe it was done unintentionally but maybe it's just supposed to show that ready-to-wear corsets just weren't made for the person buying them. But in that same scene, we finally get a proper bustle! That's historical accuracy right there!

Next up is her iconic red gown.

Now... I had a little bit of trouble with that one. The skirt is a little wide in my eyes, but the overall shape and cut is fine, with that layer draping over her underskirt. However, her neckline is something you wouldn't typically see. You see other characters wear high necklines, so I don't know why they chose to give this dress almost an evening wear look. V-necks did exist in evening wear, but then again they would be paired with frilly short sleeves and not tight fitting day wear sleeves. So all in all, yes, the dress is accurate but the neckline is uncommon.

Next, we have what is probably the most accurate one of her costumes – the mourning gown.

It's slimmer than the red one and there are so many examples of extant garments on google pictures that look so similar to hers that I'm just gonna say, excellent job!

Next is my favorite despite the neckline problem. She just looks so pretty in it!

The neckline isn't as low as on the red one but still quite uncommon. Another detail you can see in the second picture is that she seems to be wearing a bum pad instead of a bustle, which I think is acceptable. It's slim, it has a layer that drapes over the underskirt in the front, and even the sleeves are a little bit gathered at the top which was very common.

And lastly, we have this white dress where she goes back to the style she wore at the beginning of the movie.

And once again, just like I said in the beginning, this is not something you’d really see being worn in that time unless we’re talking about the Aesthetic Dress and now the sleeves aren’t as fitted so it makes sense for the movement, plus it’s kept very simple.

Overall you can say they did a fairly good job at making everything historically accurate but took some artistic liberties here and there, just like you would expect from a movie.

[midnightmoonkiss]

Failed-Night Stand

Midoriya Izuku X Reader

Summary: A one night stand with a handsome stranger that doesn’t really end up being a one night stand.

WARNINGS!: Has some spicy mentions, ages 14+ !

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3.5k+

Just to Clarify:

(B/F/N) = best friend name

(Agency) = the hero agency, you get to choose because I can’t.

This is an adult!au, where everyone has graduated UA years ago

                                         ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

A deep inhale cuts through the muffled city-morning sounds of birds chirping and cars honking, tired eyelids slowly fluttered open to reveal a room not at all yours. Light filtered in through the large, pristine window.

You slowly sat in a bed mind-blowingly comfortable, taking in the unfamiliar space. Nope. Definitely not yours. That was easy enough to tell, especially considering your room wasn’t light blue, nor were there walls lined with All Might figurines and assorted medals and trophies. 

Confusion momentarily sat in your system, the haze of sleep still residing in your mind gradually dissipated as tiny gears shifted into motion. 

Oh dear.

Groaning, you let your sitting form fall back against the bed with a soft thwump, letting your eyes slip back shut. It was pretty easy to tell what had happened last night, if your lack of clothes and the stale stench of sweat clinging to your body had anything to say about it.

An alcohol-induced one night stand.

With who? You couldn’t quite remember, despite the fact that the soreness in your throat came from screaming his name at some point in the night. It was impossible to even remember what took place, the last thing that you could recall happening was passionately kissing plump lips as large, warm hands traveled down exposed arms. One thing that you did remember, though, were his looks paired with an adorable personality. No doubt were they part of the reason you were here in the first place.

Judging from the lack of a person in bed and empty open bathroom connected with the room, he either left or was somewhere else in this apartment. You prayed for the first, not wanting to have another awkward encounter with someone you slept with the night before.

With a hum, you rolled out of bed, shakily getting to your feet. By god did it hurt to even stand, just how big and rough was this guy? He seemed like such a sweetheart.. Then again, most people lose themselves in the heat of the moment. It was quite flattering, really. 

As you stumbled about the room, picking up and putting on the undergarments you wore last night, memories slowly came into your mind. Alcohol was such a funky thing, only allowing you to remember certain things off the get go and wait for more to trickle in or figure others out. 

Luckily, or what seemed to be lucky anyway, the first was occurring.

                                            ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

The beat of drums pounded in your ears as you slurped at a cocktail, cringing at the almost addicting burn. Another Friday out late at a bar, drinking to soothe emotional cuts and bruises that manifested over the course of a particularly rough work week.

It’s always fun working late because your boss in an incompetent dick-wad.

Working in a hero agency is mostly everyone’s dream, but god were there always mountains of work and unreasonable deadlines.  

The desire to drink and relax with friends overthrew your weak sense of judgement, knowing it’d be better to have just stayed home with your beloved cat than go out and potentially get a migraine from the music that was too damn loud.

Luckily this night didn’t turn into what they usually did, no guys have tried to get into your pants yet, more than likely from the choice to dress cozy and not sleazy. Who wants a tight fitting dress when you could have a comfy sweater?

“You’ll n-ever believe who I met toooodaayyy~” (B/F/N), who was a horrific lightweight, slurred with that goofy drunken smile that always brought a laugh out of you. It was just too funny, childish glee radiating from them whenever their conscious got seized by the devil's drink.

“Who?” chuckled Katsumi, someone you had met in college and gotten along well enough  with to become friends and welcome into your pair, officially making it a group. Pretty sad how small it was. Perhaps you were all too picky with potential friends, who were you to complain though? It’s better being close to a select few then have an army of people you barely know, right?

(B/F/N)’s sweaty arm slithered behind your neck, bringing you closer to them as if to grasp onto their last bit of sanity before turning into an incomprehensible child to spew out their story.

“Ground~ Zerooo~! Can you believe it..? He’s soooo cut-e~”

“Yeah right!” Katsumi snorted, sipping at a fruity drink, something he was never afraid to order.

“I did..! Don’t you believe me, (Y/N)!”

Playfully, you tapped your chin with a finger, “Hmmm..”

The whine that you pulled from them was worth the act.

“I did! I did!” (B/F/N) felt the need to chant, arms raised high and face scrunched up in frustration. “Sure.”

“He smacked my ass!” They pouted,

Katsumi and you both shrieked with laughter, eyes watering from the no doubt large ass lie. My, how serious they looked too!

As if they’d ever meet a rising pro hero, the chances were too slim to even consider it. More than likely it was a weird dream they had but fought against it to make it seem real. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Couldn’t blame ‘em.

Going to take another sip of your drink, desperate to cool down your overheated body from the heat drifting off everyone and mixing into one big shit show,disappointment flooded your being to find it empty, nothing but melting ice left in the glass. 

“I’m going to get another drink.” After getting a reluctant understanding nod from your friends, you stood up, waddling to the bar and plopping down on one of the highly used bar stools.

Surprisingly, it was cooler over here, no doubt from the many freezers resting near the bar to hold wine coolers, beer, and other assortment of drinks people liked to be cold. Ice could only do so much, especially when it melts faster than Olaf in front of that fire. Typically they lasted longer, but maybe time flew by without your comprehension of it doing so, causing the ice to melt faster than expected. It wasn’t fully melted, you’d give it that.

But that wasn’t to say it was all that pleasant, drunk off their mind young adults littered the other stools, shamelessly making out.

You huffed, unable to be one to talk on the account that you’ve personally been there before, much to your horror.

“What can I get you, (Y/N)?” Yokuto, the kind owner and barista of the bar in his mid fifties questioned, a small smile on his face at seeing one of his favorite customers. Has he mentioned that before? No. Did you believe it because you were somewhat narcissistic when tipsy? Yes.

“Mm..” Humming, (E/C) eyes looked over the large menu, “let’s go for an old fashioned.” A classic drink, good for giving you that delicious buzz without knocking you on your ass. Well, depending on how many you have that is. Hopefully that bite to eat before drinking tonight will do you a good service.

“Ah, look at you. Adventurous tonight, are we?” Yo teased, all too used to preparing you basic drinks.

“Shhshshshs.” You hushed him, not needing to go through the same conversation once a month despite it being one of the highlights of the night. Tonight would be relaxing, spent with your friends, boy were you determined to make that happ-

“Put it on my tab.” A man with a sweet yet deep voice interjected. Ah shit. Here we go.

You rubbed your temples, sighing. Of course this would happen when you didn’t want it to, that’s how it always works right? Can’t get laid when you want to, but suddenly everyone wants you the moment you’re not interested. ‘No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.. Maybe.. He’s just being nice!’ Your mind decided, internally desperate to be left alone.

“Very well, sir!” Chirped Yo. The fucker. I mean, at least you get a free drink?

That was always a plus, especially considering your student loans often times left very little money to buy such expensive drinks. Typically old fashions weren’t expensive, but it always depended on the bar you went to. Either way, ten bucks seemed over priced. Because of this, t’s like this man was a godsend, because no doubt this drink would’ve been the last your budget could’ve allowed.

Turning, you were just about to offer a ‘thank you’ before your voice caught in a dry throat. My, my, my, a godsend indeed, in more ways than one. This man was absolutely gorgeous!

Disco lights reflected off his shimmering emerald irises, soft looking curly green hair bouncing as he took a seat beside you. Lord, did you just want to touch it. Surely he was making big bucks, that much you could tell from his appearance alone. A suit too pristine and finely fitted to him to be bought from any old plain store, a watch large and complicated to match. His face was gorgeously sculpted, but still somehow managed to have chubby cheeks leftover from childhood, skin clearer than a piece of paper. Not only that, but those faded freckles dusting his cheeks were the cutest thing imaginable, his smile--- his smile? Why was he smiling? Not that it mattered considering angels were singing around it, the golden glow of heaven behind his head,

“Hey?” Sound re-entered your ears upon seeing his kissable lips move, ah shit has he been speaking this entire time? And you just zoned out?! Fuckfuckfuck-

“H-hi..” You stuttered, currently too tipsy to feel all too embarrassed about it. “Thank you uh, for the drink..” It was hard to keep such an overactive mind focused on talking and not making yourself look like a fool in front of someone ten times out of your league. Hell, were you even trying to be in his league? A calm night, right? No hullabaloo. 

“No problem!!” His eyes shifted around the bar, smile now nervous as a light blush coated his cheeks, “I just.. Uh..”

It was almost impossible not to coo at the adorable sight in front of you.

He glanced back, your gaze following his own to a group sat at a table meters away, all holding men giving him a thumbs up. Now just what was that about?

Without giving it too much thought, you grabbed your drink and took a sip, patiently waiting for the mystery man to finish his thought.

“You’re just.. Really cute.. And I um.. Wanted to get to know you a bit..?” He stuttered out, gnawing on his plump bottom lip, the bastard. How dare he say and do something so enticing? Clearly without meaning to as well. Or perhaps this was his tactic all along, not that you were entirely beginning to mind. 

Besides, he did buy you a drink, what’s the harm in chatting for a bit?

                                           ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

Funny how chatting led you to a handsome man's apartment and unable to remember parts of the night. Were you complaining? Absolutely not. It was easy to admit that last night certainly helped bring your week to a nice ending, but the intense ache between your legs almost wasn’t worth it.

It was just then that the appetizing smell of bacon wafted under the bedroom door, or perhaps it was always there but you were too caught up in your own world to realize it. Regardless, your mouth watered, tummy rumbling from lack of food, but surely it wasn’t for you.

It was funny how he was still here, though you should expect as much since this was his place and it was a Saturday. 

Perhaps once you find your purse, you could grab breakfast at a Denny’s or something..

A shriek followed by violent coughing tore through your throat as the door suddenly opened, the savory smell of breakfast food hitting you full force.

Not allowing yourself the time to look at him, you turned around, “Ah s-sorry.. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute..”

Gah. He must be pissed that you’re still here. Forgetting about sulking, you took a step towards your discarded sweater, violently cringing at the awkward angle and pain. By no means were you a virgin, so the only way this could have happened was if the guy was absolutely humongous and rough as shit. Not like your lust-filled self would’ve minded.

“Wait wait! Ah, sit down! You’re in pain!” 

“Wha?” The clang of a tray being set down and dishes rattling echoed in the room as you were suddenly pushed back onto the bed.

“Wh-what are you-?!” You were shushed as a glass of water pressed against your dry lips, 

“Here, drink this. It’s water!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, eyes absentmindedly trailing up muscular arms all the way to his worried face. 

This all seemed a bit too suspicious, never having been treated so kindly after a one night stand. Well, so far ‘kindly’ was a bit of a stretch but at least you now had something to finally moisten your screaming throat.

Eagerly wrapping a hand around the cold glass, you chugged like your life depended on it, which it probably did considering how dehydrated you felt.

It was almost as if the water cleared your head more, for memories hit you like a freight train. Nervous touches, untrained yet gentle hands, sweet moans filtering through your ear, the pure ecstasy of last night. Your face flushed, teeth grinding slightly as you fought off the memories to actually look as professional as you could, as you were currently only in your undies.

“I. um.. I figured you would need some since you were..ah..”

Amusement flooded your being watching him suddenly turn red, his eyes trailing over your barely clothed body before whipping away to the other wall. What a gentleman. At least you remembered his name now, on the account of praising it last night. Midoriya Izuku. Cute.

Gulping down the last sip of water, you were dead set on teasing him, curious to see what reaction you’d get. Even though now and before he seemed like a shy baby, which he probably is, you remembered clearly how dominating and hot he was. “Screaming and moaning like a bitch in heat?”

“Gahh!” He shoved his red face in a pillow he grabbed, incoherent mumbling escaping the crevices of it.

Oh how precious he is. It was unusual to see an adult act this way, but it certainly was welcomed with open arms.

His head shot up, realization crossing his features. “Ah! You’re in pain right? I’m really sorry..” Guilt sunk in his shimmering mesmerizing eyes, sunlight bouncing off them from the open curtain adjacent to the bed. “I was.. I lost myself last night and was a bit too.. rough with you.  I’m sorry. Really, I am..”

He was apologizing..? This was new, but it sure did feel nice.

Just as you were about to speak, he picked up the tray beside him on the floor and plopped it into your lap.

“I uh! I made you breakfast-! The pill is a standard ibuprofen for the pain.”

It was as if his voice was made of honey from how sweet and smooth it was, the pure innocence of it wrapping around your body in a warm blanket.

How refreshing it was, but..

A teasing smile made its way to your lips,

“You’re new to this whole one night stand thing, aren’t you?”

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, the flustered man clearly trying to form a sentence in his head.

“I-I- I.. N-no um..”

Humming, you took the pill, washing it down with water before you cut off a piece of pancake, tugging it off the fork and into your mouth and almost moaning at the flavor.

Sighing in defeat, he pouted up at you, “How can you tell..?”

You licked your lips slowly, marveling at the way his eyes followed its movement, “One night stands don’t usually involve breakfast in bed.”

“Well.”

He stood up, moving to sit next to you, awkwardly patting his thighs as you munched on a piece of crispy bacon. “I was kind of hoping this wouldn’t just be a one night stand.”

Confusion contorted your face, “You want another round? I wouldn’t be opposed-”

“No!” He interjected hands waving frantically as his face burned a vibrant vermillion.

“I meant like..! Like me taking you out on a proper date or something..! I.. I don’t want this just to end..”

“What do you mean?”

“I like you.”

“...huh?”

He scratched at the back of his neck, praying to every god out there that he didn’t sound like a major creep. He wasn’t! You both just so happened to work in the same building, and his eyes just always naturally pick you out in a crowd, sometimes drifting to you when in the same room or passing by. Granted, he’s in his hero costume then where his secret identity is sealed from the public. It sure would be nice to tell you who he truly was,  but he couldn’t let his cover be blown. Even if he did like you, trust was something no longer so easily gained after having the career he did. He’s seen what happened to people like Shoto and Tenya, he had no intention of having ever part of his personal life blown up like theirs. And so, he would stay hidden behind a green and silver mask.

The dilemma at hand, though, was telling you of his affections without seeming like a creep they’ve never seen before, which he probably would anyway considering you had no idea he was Deku.

It was actually a pretty lucky thing he had no merchandise of himself, in his home out in plain view that would give himself away. True, he had no idea he’d be lucky enough to take you home, but he couldn’t help but feel bad about it. You both had been drinking, and before he knew it, you were beneath him in his bed.

He was a lucky man to have been able to get you there in the first place, but you seemed interested enough in him. Truthfully, he was scared you’d immediately leave upon waking up, wanting nothing to do with him like he’s always heard from his friends and their one night stand experiences. It was nice that you actually stayed and ate the breakfast he spent far too long on.

Here goes nothing.

“I’ve actually noticed you around work for a while now. You’re so reliable and kind to your co-workers, always the goofball cracking jokes to pass time.. Last night, my friends encouraged me to finally talk to you.”

Wait! He sounded like a total stalker just now didn’t he! Gah! You look like you think he’s a creep! Fuck! He probably is isn’t he! No! He isn’t- oh no,,

“N-not that I’m stalking you I swear! We just happened to be at the same bar at the same time..! I had no idea it would lead to this..”

What a word vomit. It was endearing, really. You couldn’t help but giggle, he was just so cute.

The giggling only made him blush harder, hands quickly going down to grasp at the hem of his shirt, a nervous habit he picked up somewhere along the line. 

“It’s okay~” You sang, immensely happy to know someone actually likes you and desperate to calm him down a bit, despite having no idea who this handsome stranger was. By god wait that sounded kind of creepy.

It’s not like you needed to know a stranger well to sleep with them, but it sure did peak your interests to know he was a fellow co-worker at a hero agency. 

“Thank you for the food, by the way.” You took another bite of fluffy pancakes, turning to look at him again, “So you work at (Agency)’s too? I’ve never seen you around before.”

You always had a knack for noticing almost everyone, and you pride yourself on knowing the majority of people considering you’ve been working there for three years now. It was strange, surely you’d notice such a strong stud.

Wait.

“Oh! You’re a hero, aren’t you? Those scars and muscles, paired with the fact that I've never seen you before, you must be?”

Shock slapped his face. Bingo.

“Heh. I knew it!”

That victorious smile that graced your lips immediately died off once you noticed him clearly internally freak out. He looked like he was about to pass out, eyes wide and pupils shrunk, mouth shakily trying to speak.

This certainly wasn’t how you wanted this to play out, but beggars can’t be choosers?

“H-hey calm down..! I don’t know who your hero persona is, if that helps!”

Geeze, you pulled yourself into a mess, didn't you?

Lips pulled into a worried straight line as you tried to calm him down by rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh! Ok, good! Ah..” He breathed a sigh of relief out his nose, chuckling bashfully, “That’s a relief.. I don’t think you’d be even the slightest bit interested in me if you knew the other guy first.”

It was hard to tell if this meant he had a completely different personality when in the suit, or if he just all around dislikes his normal self. Honestly, it doesn’t sound like it would at all be the first option. It wasn’t uncommon for heroes to prefer being their hero-sona rather than, well, them. ‘Confidence comes from the ability to impress and protect people!’ You recalled one hero exclaiming on the screen when that topic popped up late one night on a talk show interview.

It was sad to see such great people felt that way.

“Well. I don’t need the other guy. I’d like to get to know you better, if that’s possible, Midoriya.”

His face instantly brightened, that beautiful smile from last night resurfacing, the light from that window making it look like a halo formed around his head. Which wouldn’t be too weird considering he was practically an angel already. 

“R-Really?!” He excitedly asked, sparkles dancing in his eyes at the implications.

“Yes-”

“Then how about I take you on a date today then!! I know this really great restaurant and they sell these cheesy biscuits..!”

You would’ve gotten whiplash if you hadn’t already been expecting this. You smiled sweetly at him.

“I’d love that.”

Thus started your relationship with Izuku, unknowingly the bright pro her, Deku.

“But uh.. Can I get changed now..? And I need to call my friends-”

“Ah! Right! Yes, of course! Sorry-”

                                          ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

[heratixs]

A Historical Guide to | Getting Dressed in the 18th Century [ 1701 - 1800 ] Part 1 Undergarments & Base Layers !! Female Clothing | Middling - Lower Class |  Colonial England - Colonial North America Styles 

Part 2 is here! 

Hi friends! I hope you are well. This has been on my mind a lot recently since people have started coming to me with historical roleplay promotions, and I thought a clothing guide would be helpful. I wanted to start by explaining a little bit about my background in this area. I’ve been a Revolutionary War reenactor for 10 years and have put countless hours into hand sewing nearly every item of clothing, researching material culture and have first hand experience wearing the clothing, as well as working at different historic sites and parks in the last 6 years.

I wanted to share this with you because a lot of what people know of historical costuming is based on tv shows, like Outlander, Poldark, Turn, or Harlots &c. ... While some of the clothing is based off extant garments that did exist, many hollywood productions take extreme creative liberties that are not historically accurate to the time period.

This post will contain all the correct terms that you may want to include when describing your characters clothing in rpgs. Clothing standards and trends did evolve over the the course of the 18th Century and did vary widely based on social class status, location, religion, race, ethnicity, nationalities and cultures. 

This part one contains the undergarments or foundational layers for clothing in the 18th Century which remained pretty consistent through the time period regardless of social class status, location, religion, race, ethnicity, nationalities and cultures. 

Assume everything was hand sewn using either linen, or silk threads, with linen or wool materials. If you have specific questions about materials please ask. 

If you have any other questions please ask me. I can help you with research :)  If you are interested please continue reading more...

To understand how the body moves one must take into account the clothing around them. How they, themselves are interacting with it and how others interact with them wearing it. For the majority of the English / American experience during the 18th Century, most would have been of the Middling - Lower social class; working class as trades people, farmers, servants, slaves or employed by the military in various different occupations [want a guide?] . Most would have had at least one - two sets of clothing their entire adult life. It was either handed down to them or made for them by purchasing it and having it fitted.

Clothing was not sold off the rack, and was made to fit a persons exact measurements if the person had the means. They would often mend and patch their clothing to make it last as long as possible.

This list is in order of first layer to last.

SHIFT | also known as a “chemise” (a French term which evolved from ‘shirt’, not a historically accurate term) traditionally made from a lightweight bleached white linen, natural tan colored linen with bleached white sleeves, or a white wool or flannel for the winter months. The shift is the first layer a woman would be wearing closest to her skin as to be able to launder this layer more regularly than the outer garments. The sleeves would have been long enough to cover the elbow or resting just at or above the elbow. It would have been long enough to not ride up and get tangled in the petticoats, hemmed to just 1- 2 inches above the ankle. Sleeve bands would have been tied together with sleeve buttons or ties. Draw strings did not exist. 

STOCKINGS | were either “machine made” on a stocking loom or hand-knit and always display a seam along the center back of the leg where the two halves come together. The standard construction detail is the foot knitted separately from the leg. For women, stockings are tied below the knee with a wool tape or ribbon instead of a leather garter like in menswear.

STOCKING TAPE | GARTERS ​As stated above, stockings were secured with a wool tape, or ribbon garter tied in a bow just below the knee.

SHOES ​Like women’s clothing, women’s shoes also varied from location to location and depended on the individual’s use, needs, status, and trends. Shoes could be made from fine silk, but most commonly, shoes would be made by hand of plain blackened leather or a variety of colors of woolen fabric.

STAYS​ | Also known as a “Corset” (a term which did not exist until 1828 with French origins, not historically accurate)  Stays are the figure-defining support garment that is worn around the torso immediately following the shift. ​Made correctly and fitted to the person, stays among the lower and middle classes served to provide the proper smooth and conical silhouette of the time, to lift and support the bosom, and  to provide a comfortable platform on which to layer heavy skirts and pockets, rather than to create a tiny waist or provide extreme compression. Completely hand sewn stays would have been fully or partially boned with synthetic whalebone, wood cane, or German plastic boning; with an exterior fabric of plain wool or linen (green, brown, and blue are most common); front and back lacing or just back lacing. 

POCKETS ​Extant pockets vary in size, but should be fairly large. Pockets may be made of  documented print cotton, dimity diaper, patchwork, wool, and linsey woolsey, and can be decorated with natural wool or silk thread embroidery, or pieced in a quilt-like pattern. They can be bound in fabric orunbound. Pockets should be suspended on a linen or woolen tape. Recommended to have two pockets (one for each hip), but extant pockets also show that women would have a single pocket as well. Pockets should be worn over the stays and under your outer garments. Pockets can be accessed via the pocket slits in the gown and petticoats.

UNDER PETTICOAT The final layer of the undergarments the lady would put on would be the under petticoat, often would be made of a light weight linen for this layer to be laundered if needed. Most women would wear at least two to three layers of petticoats of various materials at any given time. 

image provided by: drifting focus photography [check out part 2!]

[bsahla-pahsh]

For the character ask, 2, 8, 22 , 33, 41, 43 ? If that's not too much !

You didn’t specify characters so I’ll do both of them!

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

They both have Warrior of Light, and are Lieutenants in their Grand Companies (Twin Adders for Deidre, Immortal Flames for B’sahla). Job-wise Deidre has Blackblood, and Pure White for Dark Knight and White Mage respectively, but a personal title she is known by in Coerthas, specifically around Camp Dragonhead and Whitebrim is The Silent Conjuror. (That’s a specific thing in Gridania, IK) Deidre is incredibly withdrawn during the events of ARR, so before she really has a reputation there, while they’re looking for the Enterprise and most of the Knights don’t actually know her name in passing, they called her that amongst themselves. B’sahla has being the second Azure Dragoon under her belt, but to the small vulnerable towns where she got her start as an adventurer she is known as the Huntress of Thanalan, feared by criminals and businessmen who would take advantage of refugees or those downtrodden by the Calamity. Her favorite personal title, though, is Mama, from her children.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

The Hunt family has cats, but those are for the barn, not really for companionship. I don’t think Deidre will ever feel able to settle long enough to get a proper pet, but she LOVES her chocobos (Baby and Inkjet), and Maggie. Maggie has her own specialty built place in the stables at the Rising Stones, and if the Scions know she’s in Mor Dhona but can’t find her, she’s in the stables. B’sahla did not grow up with pets, but similarly enjoys the companionship of her Chocobos Whistle and Song, and Maggie. She plays her flute on the road, and incidentally the Chocobos of Camp Dragonhead now have Bard Skills. 

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

Deidre bottles up her emotions so it mostly comes out Via a Fray Manifestation. I can’t imagine either of them really having specific insults they use, because it’s very moment to moment. Deidre Fray will insult people for being neglectful, for building foundations over the bodies of those they have used for personal gain, when people stop seeing soldiers as people and see them as assets. B’sahla insults those who use the lives of others as bargaining chips and things to be bought and sold, be it for labor or war. Especially in Ul’dah. She insults those who do not think of people negatively affected by their greed, people who take abundant resources from those who have none at all, who will not see compromise for the better of their neighbors. 

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

Given the general feel of the time period FFXIV has I’d assume just general linens, around 1890′s era undergarments, between 1890-1920 depending on the city state. 

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Deidre is a Lesbian. She likes wit, dependability, and loyalty. She likes someone she can trust to hold her own in a fight, but that’s mostly because she knows that if she dies, she’ll be okay, but others do not have that curse benefit from Hydaelyn. Someone she can share a silence with, who she can trust not to be frightened by her darker emotions. (running Lesbian List being Ysayle, Moenbryda, Hilda, Lucia, and Alisaie, endgame being Alisaie, who she’s only two years older than) I’m not sure about B’sahla but she’s only ever been with men, the trend being romantic flirts ala her former Nunh Fhey, Thancred, and Haurchefant, with Haurchefant being end game (fix-it-fic). Easy companionship is a good sign, mixed signals being frustrating. As a single mother, willingness to take on a paternal role in B’valia’s life was a must. 

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

They are each dedicated to their patron/matron from the 12, Deidre’s is Oshcon, while B’sahla’s is Azeyma. Deidre was highly parentalized from a very young age and has seven younger siblings, both because of her mother’s line of work, and this really stifled her ability to get out into the world. She had a rougher patch in her relationship with her family when she was sixteen, and one night tattooed the symbol of Oshcon onto both of her ankles as sort of permanent prayers to him to someday escape from home, which she manages the night of her 18th birthday. She does not have faith in Hydaelyn, and resents the role as champion because it is yet another responsibility thrust upon her at a young age. There are many parallels between her parents’ expectations of her and her duty as a mother to her siblings, and Hydaelyn/the Scions’ expectations of her and her duty as the Warrior of Light, especially during ARR. She is not exactly devoted to the 12 anymore, but she does offer prayers to Oshcon for safe travels, especially for companions with her, when the situation arises.

B’sahla is dedicated to the Warden, and prays east to the sunrise every morning when she can. Faith is something that she and Haurchefant connect on, and while she does not consider herself to serve justice on behalf of the goddess, or claim to, she does believe that Azeyma guides her path to those in need of the kind of aid she can supply. She is also not that jazzed about Hydaelyn, especially when she builds a new family and has children only to be repeatedly called away from them and her husband. Her biggest fear is that Hydaelyn or Zodiark will choose one of them as her successor, and she will sooner kill the gods themselves than allow them to force the kind of life she’s lived onto her own children. 

Sorry this took a while to answer, but I hope I was thorough enough to make up for it! Questions in this ask are from here

[nokindarider]

Year of the Depend Adult Undergarment DFW YOURE A FUCKING GENIUS

[alaspoorwallace]

David Foster Wallace

YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT

[...] [DFW, Infinite Jest, 14b]

'I think there must be probably different types of suicides. I'm not one of the self-hating ones. The type of like "I'm shit and the world'd be better off without poor me" type that says that but also imagines what everybody'll say at their funeral. I've met types like that on wards. Poor-me-I-hate-me-punish-me-come-to-my-funeral. Then they show you a 20 X 25 glossy of their dead cat. It's all self-pity bullshit. It's bullshit. I didn't have any special grudges. I didn't fail an exam or get dumped by anybody. All these types. Hurt themselves.' Still that intriguing, unsettling combination of blank facial masking and conventionally animated vocal tone. The doctor's small nods were designed to appear not as responses but as invitations to continue, what Dretske called Momentumizers. 'I didn't want to especially hurt myself. Or like punish. I don't hate myself. I just wanted out. I didn't want to play anymore is all.’ 'Play,' nodding in confirmation, making small quick notes. 'I wanted to just stop being conscious. I'm a whole different type. I wanted to stop feeling this way. If I could have just put myself in a really long coma I would have done that. Or given myself shock I would have done that. Instead.’ The doctor was writing with great industry. 'The last thing more I'd want is hurt. I just didn't want to feel this way anymore. I don't... I didn't believe this feeling would ever go away. I don't. I still don't. I'd rather feel nothing than this.’ The doctor's eyes appeared keenly interested in an abstract way. They looked severely magnified behind his attractive but thick glasses, the frames of which were steel. Patients on other floors during other rotations had sometimes complained that they sometimes felt like something in a jar he was studying intently through all that thick glass. He was saying 'This feeling of wanting to stop feeling by dying, then, is —’ The way she suddenly shook her head was vehement, exasperated. 'The feeling is why I want to. The feeling is the reason I want to die. I'm here because I want to die. That's why I'm in a room without windows and with cages over the lightbulbs and no lock on the toilet door. Why they took my shoelaces and my belt. But I notice they don't take away the feeling do they.’  'Is the feeling you're explaining something you've experienced in your other depressions, then, Katherine?’ The patient didn't respond right away. She slid her foot out of her shoes and touched one bare foot with the toes of the other foot. Her eyes tracked this activity. The conversation seemed to have helped her focus. Like most clinically depressed patients, she appeared to function better in focused activity than in stasis. Their normal paralyzed stasis allowed these patients' own minds to chew them apart. But it was always a titanic struggle to get them to do anything to help them focus. Most residents found the fifth floor a depressing place to do a rotation. 'What I'm trying to ask, I think, is whether this feeling you're communicating is the feeling you associate with your depression.’ Her gaze moved off. 'That's what you guys want to call it, I guess.’ The doctor clicked his pen slowly a few times and explained that he's more interested here in what she would choose to call the feeling, since it was her feeling. The resumed study of the movement of her feet. 'When people call it that I always get pissed off because I always think depression sounds like you just get like really sad, you get quiet and melancholy and just like sit quietly by the window sighing or just lying around. A state of not caring about anything. A kind of blue kind of peaceful state.' She seemed to the doctor decidedly more animated now, even as she seemed unable to meet his eyes. Her respiration had sped back up. The doctor recalled classic hyperventilatory episodes being characterized by carpopedal spasms, and reminded himself to monitor the patient's hands and feet carefully during the interview for any signs of tetanic contraction, in which case the prescribed therapy would be I.V. calcium in a saline percentage he would need quickly to look up. 'Well this' — she gestured at herself— 'isn't a state. This is a feeling. I feel it all over. In my arms and legs.’ 'That would include your carp—your hands and feet?’ 'All over. My head, throat, butt. In my stomach. It's all over everywhere. I don't know what I could call it. It's like I can't get enough outside it to call it anything. It's like horror more than sadness. It's more like horror. It's like something horrible is about to happen, the most horrible thing you can imagine — no, worse than you can imagine because there's the feeling that there's something you have to do right away to stop it but you don't know what it is you have to do, and then it's happening, too, the whole horrible time, it's about to happen and also it's happening, all at the same time.’ 'So you'd say anxiety is a big part of your depressions.’ It was now not clear whether she was responding to the doctor or not. 'Everything gets horrible. Everything you see gets ugly. Lurid is the word. Doctor Carton said lurid, one time. That's the right word for it. And everything sounds harsh, spiny and harsh-sounding, like every sound you hear all of a sudden has teeth. And smelling like I smell bad even after I just got out of the shower. It's like what's the point of washing if everything smells like I need another shower.’ The doctor looked intrigued rather than concerned for a moment as he wrote all this down. He preferred handwritten notes to a laptop because he felt M.D.s who typed into their laps during clinical interviews gave a cold impression. Kate Gompert's face writhed for a moment while the doctor was writing. 'I fear this feeling more than I fear anything, man. More than pain, or my mom dying, or environmental toxicity. Anything.’ 'Fear is a major part of anxiety,' the doctor confirmed.

[...] [DFW, Infinite Jest, 14c]