#it'll be so hard for us to get through this

[petermorwood]

This is excellent advice for the treatment (or apparent maltreatment, in linen's case) of natural fabrics.

Here's some additional info based on personal experience over many decades and numerous ways of doing laundry from ancient (well, early 1960s) to modern.

Wool. A splendid outer layer, since rain sits on rather than soaks in, but needs care when washing, and even more when drying. Don't wash a woollen garment on Hot, and definitely don't dry it that way. If you do, your favourite woolly pully will shrink to something for a child, and a child's woolly pully into something for a doll. I have done this, and it was not well appreciated except, way way back, by my small sister and presumably by her nattily pullovered favourite doll.

Cotton. Will indeed shrink a bit after washing and drying, but fortunately will stretch again during wear. Can be washed very hot to get rid of Those Annoying Stains, and by Very Hot I mean boiled. It'll still stretch back - eventually - and although sometimes uncomfortably snug during the stretching process, will nevertheless be nice and clean.

Silk. Usually expensive, so accordingly laundered with probably more care than it needs, since this is a fabric once used (in many layers, granted) as armour. Does Not Chafe, which is why it was worn as scarves by fighter pilots who had to keep turning their heads in case of The Hun In The Sun. "Silk hiding steel" is appropriate, because a lady with a Hermés (not "an 'ermes", you pronounce the H) silk scarf and something to weigh it with is not as unarmed as she seems.

Linen. The 600lb gorilla of the fabric world, only bettered by hemp. Can have a weave tight enough to carry water without dripping - especially after the weave soaks and swells - and a tensile strength enough to carry pounds and kilos of it. (You can still buy collapsible "canvas" - usually linen or hemp - buckets...) @dduane and I inherited a lot of Irish Linen from my Mum, some still in original boxes with original washing instructions. Those instructions were, more or less, "rub soap into stubborn stains, scrub thoroughly and boil until clean".

Where linen and hemp fabrics are concerned...

*****

Even though she had a succession of increasingly modern washing machines, Mum also had and occasionally used - or more accurately supervised my use of - some quite old-fashioned laundry equipment.

Linens with stubborn stains were indeed scrubbed thoroughly, using a block of hard soap then a washboard, and an impressive abs workout it was...

Then the scrubbed stuff was boil-washed in Mum's washing machine (which could reach a genuine 100°C rolling boil) before being rinsed, passed through the mangle (or wringer, more in this post) and pegged out on the washing-line to dry.

*****

As i hunted up illustrations I (re-)discovered a Terry Pratchett Discworld connection. Remember the "copper stick" used by Granny and Nanny to summon the demon in "Wyrd Sisters"?

"What are you going to try?" said Granny. Since they were on Nanny's territory, the choice was entirely up to her. "I always say you can't go wrong with a good Invocation," said Nanny. "Haven't done one for years." Granny Weatherwax frowned. Magrat said, "Oh, but you can't. Not here. You need a cauldron, and a magic sword. And an octogram. And spices, and all sorts of stuff." Granny and Nanny exchanged glances. "It's not her fault," said Granny. "It's all them grimmers she was bought." She turned to Magrat. "You don't need none of that," she said. "You need headology." She looked around the ancient washroom. "You just use whatever you've got," she said. She picked up the bleached copper stick, and weighed it thoughtfully in her hand. "We conjure and abjure thee by means of this—" Granny hardly paused – "sharp and terrible copper stick."

It's one of these, not made OF copper but meant for use IN a copper.

Mum had one, originally Granny's, which kept getting pinched to play the role of sword, baton or whatever, though its official purpose was to stir, untangle and finally remove laundry which had been boiled in a "laundry copper":

This one shows how it straddled two gas jets, but Nanny Ogg's copper had a fireplace space under the actual cauldron (though in summer she used it as a beer cooler).

These cauldrons were still called "coppers" even when more cheaply made of iron. It's another instance of how vacuum cleaners became "hoovers" and sticking-plasters became "band-aids" etc., etc., no matter what brand they really were.

"Boil", however, wasn't a figurative term. It meant what it said, and those thoroughly scrubbed linens (cottons, too) would bubble merrily for quite a while "until clean".

Coppers were also used for cooking, with perhaps the most famous literary instance being chez Cratchit in "A Christmas Carol":

“A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastry-cook’s next door to each other, with a laundress’s next door to that! That was the pudding!"

Mum initially had a separate electric boiler - IIRC it was Burco brand, which still makes much smaller boilers for catering, though ours was never used for anything except laundry - but mostly I remember the boil being done in her washing machine.

More modern machines only go to 90-95°C, sometimes just 60°C, but when her Hoover was running at full belt, things got as lively as any pot on a hob even before the agitator started churning. Never mind closing its lid to avoid mess, when a boil-wash was taking place that lid was also a needful safety precaution against scalding splashes.

*****

Removal by copper stick was superseded by use of tongs, and Mum had a set just like these...

...though I don't think hers had such an apt name.

Stirring with the copper stick was replaced by washing with a posser, which pumped up and down, or a washing dolly, which rotated.

Both actions have been replicated by washing-machines, and though variants of the dolly rotation became almost standard in tub washers, the posser did appear in an early 20th-century hand-operated machine...

...as well as the Frigidaire "Jet Cone" washer...

...whose action, TBH, reminds me of certain non-laundry gadgets I saw many years ago in The Pleasure Chest on Santa Monica... :-P

Modernised possers or even original designs are still available today.

*****

Whenever you read in stories about avoiding trouble with laundresses, those devices along with scrubbing, wringing out and cranking mangles are why. Regular workouts with laundry equipment gave them the sort of muscles nobody wanted to provoke.

*****

I've already mentioned "A Christmas Carol" and, given the time of year (posted 22nd December 2024) this ought to end with another one, so...

As shepherds washed their socks by night, All seated round the tub, A bar of Sunlight soap came down And they began to scrub...

You're welcome.

:->

Here, a cheater course on caring for natural fibers!

1. Wool. Treat it like it has the delicate constitution of a Victorian lady and the conviction that baths are evil of a 17th century noble. (If I get in WATER my PORES will OPEN and I will CATCH ILL AND DIE.)

2. Cotton; easygoing. Will shrink a bit if washed and dried hot.

3. Silk; people think it’s like wool and has the constitution of a fashionably dying of consumption Victorian lady, but actually it’s quite tough. Can be washed in an ordinary washer, and either tumbled dry without heat or hung to dry.

4. Linen; it doesn’t give a shit. Beat the hell out of it. Historically was laundered by dousing it in lye and beating the shit out of it with wooden paddles, which only makes it look better. The masochist of the natural fiber world. Beat the fuck out of it linen doesn’t care. Considerably stronger than cotton. Linen sheet sets can last literal decades in more or less pristine shape because of that strength.The most likely natural fiber to own a ball gag.

[pixievi]

FUCKING COLLARED SEVIKA

synopsis : sevika kept the collar after her little excursion to stillwater with jinx. she told herself that it was going to be used on you, but a little part of her whispered that she wouldn't mind if you used it on her. and now here she was

content : sub!sevika and she's very embarrassed about it, bratty sevika, dom!reader, hexstrap, mommy kink, collar and leash usage, good girl usage

wc : 635

"you little b-",she gritted through her teeth. you tugged on the leash again, shutting her up. you lazily fucked yourself on her strap, savouring every delicious inch as she filled you up so good. but your pace wasn't enough for sevika. she could feel all of it. your teasing movements, how soaked you were around her and how warm you were. it just all felt too fucking good. as much as she hated how smug you were on top of her, she secretly loved watching you use her like she was nothing but a toy.

she had to bite her lip from whining at the loss of your warmth when you fully lifted yourself off of her dick. instead, she furrowed her brows in annoyance. you giggled as you grinded against her length. you could see right through her. there was no denying that she was fucked out and desperate. her dark hair was stuck to her face from all the sweat, her chest heaved with frustrated restraint and her hips were stiff, secretly trying to be good for you by not fucking you from below.

"what's wrong sevi?",you smiled, dragging her aching cock along your glistening pussy. her hips twitched under you and her jaw clenched.

"stop fucking around",she growled.

you moaned deeply as the ridges of her glowing strap brushed against your swollen clit just right. you smiled down at her, with mischief alight in your eyes . "I might, if you ask nicely"

sevika scowled. you were asking her to beg. she would rather die. it felt as though every single one of her colleagues and enemies would magically hear her begging like a pathetic whore. she wanted to flip you over and take what she wanted, but you had her tied up tight and her metal arm was no use, you had pounced on her after she took it off for the night. she admired your cleverness and slyness, before she was put in the position you had her in now.

"c'monn, it's just me. no one will hear your little secret",you teased with a giggle. sevika's eyes widened a little bit. you never thought sevika was the type, and she regretted letting it slip while having you ride her all those weeks back. because now you revelled in teasing her. she pretended to hate it, trying to save at least some of her dignity. but you knew her too well. it was only a matter of time before she let go. you just needed to give her a little push.

you angled the tip of her cock to the warmth of your pussy. you teased her, pushing her in slightly. sevika's breathe hitched in desperation. her eyes darkened as she watched.

"it'll be so easy to get what you want baby, you just have to ask"

you watched her swallow, weighing her options. there was only one decision really, and it was driven by fiery ache and mess you left in her boxers. you watched the cogs in her head turn and she met your eyes.

"...fuck me, please"

your smile widened at her quiet submission. but she still wasn't fully there yet, and you weren't going to let her get away with it. you sank a little deeper down onto her dick, but still only a teasing amount. "please what?

she sighed, fuck her dignity. "please, mommy"

"aww see, that wasn't so hard",you leaned forward and squished her flushing cheeks. "what a good girl"

you sank back down on her fully, burying her aching dick into your delicious warmth. she groaned deeply, throwing her head back. you were in so much trouble when you were done playing with her, but it was so worth it, making her moan pathetically all for you. just for you.

merry christmas!! here's your present - sub sevika <3 she has a desperate mommy kink even when she's domming and you can't tell me otherwise

[evieelyzabethh]

"chateu"

⭒is it a dream or is it all in the past, i just thought i'd ask"⭒ Arcane characters and comfort {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw☞ slightly pervy jayce, mentions of period sex, a bunch of fluff, that's about it

♞Vi♞

♞Vi's comfort is both physical and verbal. Vi is constantly in awe of you, she can't fathom the idea of you thinking you're less than, too dumb, not pretty enough, not worthy enough. She is also very aware. She's a watcher and a listener. She is very good at getting to the root of the rot, she knows that it's not just this one occurrence, it's a reaction caused by something deeper within you. I feel like Vi is much more emotionally intelligent than a lot of people give her credit for, it's just not knowing how to carry it out.

♞I feel like sometimes, she wouldn't get frustrated, but it would take a bit of a toll on her when you aren't as perceptive as she is. Sometimes it takes a lot of walking through the process to get you to understand what she's telling you. She is more than willing and does praise you until she's blue in the face, but she realizes that sometimes words from an outside source can't fix anything if you don't believe it yourself.

♞This applies to larger problems, but Vi would also be good on occasions if you were simply having a bad day. As someone who's had a bad life, she knows how you feel. You want to be left alone for a bit? She completely understands. You just want a hug? She is there with open arms and immediately chides you the second you try to apologize for getting snot on her jacket.

♞Speaking of which, Vi hugs are one of the most comforting hugs you can ever receive. She's just so warm and big and you are completely surrounded by her as she cradles your head into your chest and hums in your ear. She just has such a calming voice; her presence itself is comforting. I also think she would shed a few tears herself when comforting you. It heals the part of her that couldn't save Powder. She holds a lot of guilt about that, so much so that her comfort to you feels rehearsed, like she's been repeating those reassurances for years.

♞As much as you need comforting, Vi would need her fair share too. She never let go of that big sister/leader persona, she thinks her problems are too small compared to the world around her. She tries to fix her problems with logic to push down her feelings and most definitely is someone who thinks that letting those big feelings out is unproductive. This being said, you don't get a chance to comfort Vi until it becomes too much for even her to handle and she randomly breaks down.

♞Comfort is very foreign to her. The last time she received it consistently and healthily was from Vander and then her life went to shit, and she was thrown in prison for like a decade. Stillwater is not a nurturing environment, Zaun certainly wasn't either, even the comfort she received from Vander was more akin to tough love rather than something softer. She can be soft with you, but she finds it hard to accept it herself. It's a battle for her to just be in your arms and allow you to tell her its ok. She knows it'll be okay because she's gonna fight like hell to make sure it's ok. She hates feeling out of control. She's not used to someone trying to fix things for her; she's not used to someone being there for her.

♞She has a lot of tears to get out. Vi has built high walls of anger, but below that is a chasm of sorrow. When she finally breaks down, it feels like an endless stream of tears until she physically cannot cry anymore and is forced to heave in your arms until she either falls asleep or sits in silence, empty. It's very overwhelming, but she can't deny that when she can catch her breath, she feels brand new.

★Ekko★

★Ekko may not be a doctor, but he's a chef which makes the experience more than bearable. The second he sees your complexion get sickly, your wincing every time you move, and your coughs getting more and more phlegmy, he is immediately freaking out. He's running to get a thermometer, he's rifling through the medicine cabinet for whatever the canon equivalent of NyQuil is, he has a trash can set by the bedside in case you begin to feel nauseous.

★Despite his preparedness, I don't think Ekko is great at being sick or being around the sick. It feels like an utter waste of time, waiting around in the house for the illness to pass. Sickness is one of those issues you can't be active in fighting, the best action is to rest and sweat it out, and he is so antsy. It's a lot better if you're sick, you can't lie to him and try to pretend you're well when you aren't. Even if you try and fight him on it, you don't make it very far. Your achy joints keep you up at night, making you completely exhausted throughout the day. Your headache is so debilitating you have spots in your vision. Your throat is so sore, it physically pains you to argue with him about how you're totally not sick and he's being a complete mother hen.

★No; no matter how hard you protest, you are absolutely bed bound as Ekko works warm soup down your gullet even when you can't stomach it yourself but the rational part of you knows it'll make you feel better. The warm green tea he brings you has some tonic dissolved into it; the medicinal taste covered by a few tablespoons of sugar to avoid the bitter bite. He doesn't even flinch when you cough or sneeze into yet another tissue which is soon to be added to the growing pile in the trash. He only wraps you tighter, so you sweat out your fever faster while softly rubbing your aching shoulders. The thought of getting sick does cross his mind, but he's more preoccupied with his poor girl.

★A surprise to no one, Ekko gets sick right after you do, though he is far less compliant. He knows that you see right through his bullshit excuses. Babe, I don't have a fever, I always run hot. What do you mean I have a bad cough? I've just been clearing my throat. I don't get sick; I have too good of an immune system. I never been sick a day in my life. Even worse, he truly believes it himself. In truth, Ekko isn't someone who gets sick often, it's usually one bad bug every year or so. When he does get sick, it usually lasts a few weeks, the first being very mild and then eventually whittling him down to a bed-bound state.

★His bug only worsens the annoyance he feels when sick, you're almost glad when he loses the energy to argue back when you tell him to lie down. When Ekko's sick, it feels more like date nights than a hospital trip. Ekko can't stand silence or boredom which means a movie is playing for as long as he's bed bound. Aside from his mucous infested coughs, his constant shuddering through multiple layers of blankets, and a bowl of soup instead of popcorn; you could barely tell that this wasn't a movie date.

★If there is one thing Ekko enjoys about being sick, it's being taken care of. After he swallows his pride and that disgusting cough medicine, he can appreciate being doted on. Even though he's sick, he'll use a fake yawn as an excuse to wrap his arm around you and ask do you come 'round here often? His joking attitude is usually a good sign that his weeks in hell have finally passed and the light at the end of the tunnel (post sickness kisses) are finally on the table.

❂Jayce ❂

❂Someone once made a joke that Jayce would be the type to make a post on twitter like "I just found out about how bad period pain is. Can't believe our beautiful women go through that every month. If only I could go through periods for them, so they no longer have to suffer (I'm 6'7 btw)" and, well...yes! On a more serious note, I don't think he'd be the type to be super on top of it. He's too busy to have something like a calendar tracking it, though when the time comes, he's very quick to act. While he may be unprepared, he's not incompetent.

❂As soon as you tell him you started, he switches the light bed sheets to darker ones. All he needs is a list of your needs, your preference on pads or tampons or menstrual cups, if you wear them, what size pad you need, heating pads, pain meds, anything and everything you may need is currently being bought. He also isn't the type to be ashamed to go to the register with it, he truly does not think it's a big deal and is confused at any sort of weird stares he gets.

❂He is also over cautious. The second you look like a little woozy, he's right by your side asking if you need to sit down. He's standing around the bathroom while you shower genuinely scared you might pass out due to the amount of blood loss. I don't think he's squeamish around blood, but I do think he'd constantly worry that it's too much. Like how are you still alive after bleeding that much for like a week straight 12 times a year?! He thinks the female body is a scientific wonder.

❂He's also great when it comes to the emotional component. The second your hormones get out of whack, and you start to think too hard about your bloating or ragged you look or how weak you feel, he's right there with a large warm hand on your tummy telling you that you are being ridiculous. His very scientific brain comes in handy, something about his calming voice telling you exactly what your body is doing sounds enough like a documentary to put you to sleep.

❂If you work in the lab with him, he offers to let you skip work for the week, being completely surprised if you insist on still coming in. He does his best to accommodate you, going the extra mile to pack your lunch and making you sure you eat it, ensuring that you're staying on top of your water, he brings pain killers with him in case your cramps get too bad. You and Viktor roll your eyes a bit at his antics. You try to assure him you've had a period for years at this point and it's really not that big of a deal, but he insists on it anyway. All he knows is that you're in pain and he doesn't like that.

❂Now, pre-apocalypse Jayce does not do period sex. You're already hurting, and he while he read that sex can help with cramps, he also knows you're super sensitive and that stretch is going to hurt even worse. If you asked, he'd oblige, making sure to be extra soft and gentle, only pushing half-way in as he coos and brushes the hot tears from your eyes. Post-apocalypse Jayce is far less careful. I wouldn't say he doesn't care, but he understands the concept of a little bit of pain for a lot of pleasure. He's still sweet, carefully covering your sheets with layers of towels and folding a couple under your hips, but his strokes could convince you he's trying to fuck your period away. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel better after, though.

☽Viktor☾

☽Viktor is not one to beat around the bush at all; he never even liked the man to begin with. It started with something small, like the lack of effort he put into dates or forgetting your birthday, and ever since then things just snowballed until every offense was break-up worthy to him. He didn't hold the door open? Break up with him. He was a bit too flirty with the waitress when you went out to eat? Break up with him! You caught him talking to his ex? BREAK UP WITH HIM!

☽Before the breakup, he is not soft about it at all. The first few gossip sessions were all fun and games but the more you talked about him, the more his dislike grows until he hates the guy and he's only physically seen him a couple times. He refuses to even be in the same room as the man, he says it's because the mere thought of him literally makes him sick and he's sure seeing his actual face will genuinely kill him.

☽He doesn't know what you see in him, and neither do you after the fact. Hindsight really is 20/20. Viktor truly isn't that great with comfort until he sees how seriously upset you are. You're crying over a tub of ice cream with a rom com playing in the background as you blubber about how all of your relationships fall apart and you just don't know where you went wrong, and he's truly confounded on how you're this upset over a toad.

☽This all being said, he's very supportive. It's a lot of work to swallow his sarcastic remarks and roll his eyes less, but the sincerity of his comfort is very easy. It's not instinctual for him to sit there while you cry in his arms, but the kind words he murmurs, you deserve better than that, you deserve a love greater than you even ask for, you deserve even more than the world, you deserve the better world he wants to create. And he doesn't want to sound smarmy or jealous, like some loser who was waiting in the wings for the breakup even Jayce saw coming from a mile away, but if he cared less about what you thought of him; he'd say you deserve him.

☽He realizes it's much too soon, so he buys you ice cream and tells you that you look pretty even when your mascara is running, and your hair is in a state of disarray, and he genuinely means it. He's most valuable for his honesty, it's why you came to Viktor in the first place. He was always honest about how he felt about your ex, even when he was holding his tongue, his expression said all the words he was too nice to say. So, when he tells you that yes, you're still pretty, he may be holding back.

☽It helps that he's funny and can be a tad impulsive. You want to slash his tires? Only slash 3 so that his insurance doesn't cover it. You wanna burn his clothes? He'll make you a pocket flamethrower just to do so. Even better than being open to violence and destruction, he's great at not getting caught. Though he doesn't believe in lying to you, dishonesty drips from his lips like honey.

☽When the crying and the disappointment fades and you feel good enough to joke about how you wasted too much of your time on a man outrunning wisdom, Viktor does slowly try to show you exactly what you deserve.

☼Mel☼

☼While Mel knows the importance of the exterior, she thinks its utterly ridiculous that you can think you aren't pretty enough. She knows insecurities are hard. 'The grass is greener on the other side' really isn't the comfort most people think it is. Sometimes it's well worth it to face the consequences of achieving what you've wanted. Whatever it is, acne, being flat chested, noticeable scars, being different is just hard. It doesn't matter how much your differences make you unique, it really is easier to be like everyone else.

☼She tells you every chance she gets how beautiful she thinks you are. To pretend that inside beauty is all that matters is simply a lie, she interacts daily with people whose heads are full of air, but people only respect them because they are a pretty face with full pockets. She knows it sounds untrue to you, but that's why she tells you so often. Not in despite of anything, not because of anything, you're just stunning.

☼Since you're already hyper-focused on your insecurity, I think she'd ignore it. Honestly, she doesn't think of it at all. It's about as noticeable to her as the color of your eyes or how tall you are, it's a miniscule detail that doesn't define you, it's just another feature. It's nothing important to her, and she wishes it didn't bother you.

☼While you are all adults, she knows that some lack the decorum necessary to not make their judgements known and it bothers her deeply. Anytime anyone speaks on it, she rolls her eyes. She thoroughly thinks it's beneath you to be bothered by it. Not only is it low-hanging fruit, but it's a sign of deficient intellect. They couldn't insult your intelligence, your competence, or anything about you that actually mattered, they had to go for your appearance, and she will tell them as such. She is very good at her professional insults.

☼As much as she compliments you, she emphasizes your other traits. If you're a writer, an artist, a dancer, any skill you have that you built for years or any talent you were just born with, she dedicates a lot of time to participating and validating it at any chance she gets. She wants you to take pride in something else, something that no one can take from you. Looks fade throughout the years, everyone is eventually going to be cast aside as their hairs grey and their teeth start to fall out. Knowledge never grows obsolete. Besides, people with legitimate interests and hobbies are too busy doing things they enjoy ruminating on how they look.

☼She knows it isn't what you want to hear, but it is what you need to hear sometimes. You are perfect just the way you are. She has never had any desire or want to change you. She has never imagined you any other way than the way you are. She doesn't want anyone who looks different than you, she doesn't want you because of the way you look. Of course, she thinks you're beautiful, but that doesn't matter to her. Never has and it never will. Just as she has faith that you aren't with her for how she looks, she hopes you have faith that you looks are not a determining factor for why she's with you. You are just you and she wouldn't want you any other way.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ i wanna tell the world that you're mine, girl ❞

# summary; accidentally walking in on him streaming

# playlist; they don't know about us - one direction

# word count; 587

# note; something short for you. i have two part twos in the works but a Christmas special will be coming your way on christmas ;)

Arthur's been in your bedroom for the last half hour sitting at his PC, judging by the screams coming from the other side of the door, recording a YouTube video. Or at least that's what you thought.

You're in the kitchen sipping your second glass of cheap wine, standing over a pasta recipe you'd seen on TikTok, wondering if he'd be ready to eat sometime soon or if you should just put some into a container for him to have when he was finished. You turn the heat down, set the spoon on a paper towel, and place the lid onto the pan.

A knock sounds through the wood that goes unanswered, you follow it with an even louder one to no avail. Deciding just walking in shouldn't hurt anything, his editor knows you exist and it'll be cut from the footage with just a few clicks.

You step over the threshold leaving the door ajar and walk towards him. His back is obviously to you, so reach and gently slide a side of his headphones off his ear. When your fingers graze his skin, despite your effort he still startles slightly.

"Sorry, dinners ready," when his eyes meet yours they're almost pleading, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. Your brows furrowed in confusion at his lack of reply, until you notice the Livestream chat flowing so fast you can't make out but a few words.

Without even the idea of uttering another word, you turn on your heels heading for the door. Your fists clench involuntarily at your sides, the stinging pain of your fingernails digging into your palms not bothering you nearly as much as the feeling of your heart speeding up and your face beginning to warm.

Tears brim your eyes, anxiety making your skin suddenly feel almost like a pincushion. He's stressed so much about keeping your relationship relatively private, not that he wanted to be a secret but he knows how some supporters get.

The couch seems to be the best place for you to just sit and try and breathe through the panic attack that you feel brewing deep down. You let your head fall into your hands, the heels of your palms pressing your eyes so hard into their sockets, that you're certain if you open them stars would blot your vision.

Your mind is fuzzy as you try to even out your breathing, its starting to feel like weights are on your chest, in the distance you can hear the sound of the bedroom door opening, and gently closing, and the padding of his feet getting closer until it's just in front of you.

A strangled breathe racks through you when you attempt to speak, "'m so," he's quick to cut you off, "None of that, baby," he interrupts what he knows will be a string of unnecessary apologies, "You have nothing to be sorry for, I should apologize for making people finding out seem like such a big deal."

"I just... You did it to protect me, to protect us, I understand why."

He's kicking himself internally at how stressed this has obviously made you, "We've lived together almost eight months," his voice is calm, and his warm hand finds your cheek grounding you. The hand on your cheek tilts your chin up, his eyes finding yours, "something like this was going to happen eventually, please don't beat yourself up over this."

You nod, leaning into his touch, "Now, come say hello, they wanna meet you."

[colourme-feral]

Translation notes for Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu / Our Youth ep 7

*Midway through, I gave up doing screenshots of the gaga subs and then cropping them, so half of the gaga subs are typed out.

Note: Transferring of schools is basically an admission of guilt, which is why they would expect Haruki, who is supposed to be the one behind this, to be transferring, not Kyohei

You don't seem to have any friend who would be especially hard to leave Ah! Do you actually have a lover? Note: The word she uses isn't gender specific

What did you do. That's some extravagant spending (the ice cream). Who is it thanks to that you can (afford to) eat that?

Because there is no place where you belong!

From what point did things go wrong? Even though I'd wanted to live decently. Even though I'd wanted to live differently from my old man lived. No. In the first place, if I'd been a more decent person to begin, then things would not have happened this way. If I had not been me then…

He's not moving.

What should I do if I get arrested? Why would you get arrested? Because I left him alone. What do you mean? Because at that time, I didn't check on him properly. At first, he was still alive, you know. And when I saw his face, I thought, he should just die as it is. Note: Another definition of "leaving him alone" is abandoning, which probably adds to Haruki's guilt.

If you have anything to do with me, you'll become unhappy. It's better that you too, don't have any relations with me. That's not true… It's in my genes/genetic inheritance, isn't it? It's not your genes/genetic inheritance. I am my father's son after all, so! That's not true! Don't say that. It'll be fine. You've done nothing wrong.

Little by little, the waves that break on the shore and retreat are taking you further from me.

Miseinen / Our Youth translation notes・Other translation notes

[shallowseeker]

via @monstermoviedean

Oh God, oh God, no one knows how important this is to me, and because it's Christmas, I can't stop myself venting again.

<cue the image of Raphael’s vessel>

DEAN: So is this what I'm looking at if Michael jumps in my bones?

CASTIEL: No, not at all. Michael is much more powerful. It'll be far worse for you.

DEAN looks away.

5x03

///

Instead, we find Dean, incredibly hungry and incredibly tired. Even though he apparently already already told Cas he was gonna crash, Dean delays his own rest, taking a moment to check on Rowena (aww!) and to try to refuel.

14x15

//

But before Dean can even eat or catch up with Cas, enter Sam:

So, Cas steps in to mentor Sam, hoping Dean can try his hand at connecting with Jack and get some much-needed sleep in the process (not to mention, getting to eat)!

14x15

///

Status of the team:

Cas has the Empty deal hanging over his head, and he’s scrambling to solve these unsolvable problems while also giving his loved one/partner time to rest. (And lordy geez, no wonder Cas tries to spare Dean… Even if it backfires spectacularly, it’s understandable given everything that he’s seeing Dean go through here).

Dean was head-injured and psychologically wounded from being The AU Michael vessel for so long. He likely feels directly responsible for both the Rowena and Jack injuries, as well as all the AU hunter deaths. (Note: Conjecture, but I think we see the first glimmer of emotional despair/crosstalk of blame aimed at Cas which is… fascinating. Sam of course misses it entirely, thinking Dean mostly made the decision to stay for Sam.)

Rowena was similarly psychologically wounded to Dean. She become the AU Michael vessel hoping that, although Michael would not honor his word, she could be strong enough to save the day, or at least hold him off for a bit. Then she failed spectacularly, watching her hands kill everyone she helped save from Apocalypse World.

Jack is perhaps the most severely wounded of all, sacrificing his soul in a move so painful that Cas and Dean can barely face it, lingering in the space of denial and forlorn hope. (Jack’s eating, so he must have a soul left, right? Donatello said he’s fine, so he’s fine, right?)

But Sam is spiraling so hard over his own losses, the above doesn’t even seem to occur to him. Sam has inflated responsibility, but it’s still so self-focused, I think?

Castiel: Maybe. *shoots Sam a knowing look after the case gets more complicated, and Sam yawns*

Sam: I'm good. I'm good, honestly.

Castiel: *dryly* Yeah, I know. Everybody's good. But after this, maybe Dean's right. *Then, chastising* You need to rest.

Sam: Can't.Just because I'm tired doesn't mean the monsters are gonna stop, you know? Doesn't mean anything. Plus we don't have as many Hunters as we used to.

In risking his own safety, Sam also risks the safety of those that love him. Cas is trying to mentor Sam, because Cas was crushed by the weight of his own authoritarian leadership, and like Sam, Cas too wanted to reject leadership, abdicate responsibility, and run away, fearful of “destroying everything again.”

///

However, even after snapping out of the need to run away, Sam only acknowledges his mistake in running Dean ragged and his own pain. I’m a little reminded of that moment in The End, where Sam calls Dean in a panic about his own destiny re: angel vessels, but doesn’t lead with empathy for Dean’s plight.

Sam: I hate this place right now. I hate it. Everywhere I look, I see them. I see Maggie.I guess that's why, uh -- why I was so desperate to get out of here, why I kept running us ragged. But I got to stop that. I-I can't keep running. I -- This is my home. This is our home. Dean, I think I just need some time.

Dean: *assessing, maybe a little disappointed* Okay.

Dean, seeing that Sam is very plugged into his own mistakes and emotional pain, but still isn’t considering the plight of the rest of the team, disengages.

Sam’s empathy for others is (404 Not Found)?

You ever just remember Dean kept an archangel trapped in his mind for months on nothing but sheer willpower?

[b0n3s-is-gay]

What does the gang get you for Christmas?

A Very Merry Outsiders Christmas Masterlist -> here!

Darrel Shaynne Curtis:

This man, if he was to get you anything for Christmas, it'd be some simple piece of jewlery that doesn't cost that much.

If you're serious serious in this relationship, like you've been together since Highschool, think 5 years. There's a small chance it'd be his mom's engagement ring. Not the wedding ring of course, Sodapop keeps that close to his body at all times. (I will always write about how Darry would propose, sue me.)

He'd wrap it up in a little bit of tissue paper and then put it in a bag. If it's a necklace, he'd help you put it on and kiss you after.

Keith "Two-bit" Matthews:

This man is a joker through and through, so the first gift is a joke gift. Something to get him laughing and you a bit upset, but he'd never over do it.

The joke gift would be something like chocolates (if you don't like them) or a box of coal.

But his actual gift is a lot more thought out than you might think. It's a butterfly knife, stolen just like his. It's something he hopes you don't have to use but you'll have just in case.

Dallas "Dally" Winston:

Dally doesn't do Christmas. He just doesn't. Don't ask, don't tell.

But if Christmas gifts are really your thing, he'll steal you some kind of expensive piece of clothing you were looking at.

Does he wrap it? No, not at all. He loves you, but not that much.

Sodapop Patrick Curtis:

Sodapop would have a hard time picking something to give to you for Christmas. But, he'd get you something with his own money. Maybe it'd be something small related to your hobby.

He'd get you something nice from his DX funds, think like new paint brushes if you paint or a roll of polaroid blanks if you do photograpgy.

He'll wrap it up with help from Darry. Nice little packaging or bag depending on what hobby you have and what he got you.

Steve Randle:

Something homemade. He does work at the DX but his money is pitted towards his survival, so he'll make you something for Christmas.

Maybe a little wooden heart or a few metal roses. Like that little picture captioned with "I will love you until this rose wilts", that kind of metal rose. That's what he'd get you.

He'll tie it up with a little bow or ribbon and give it to you with a kiss under the mistletoe.

Johnny Cade:

Much like Steve, Johnny doesn't have much money for gifts. So he'll take you out to dinner or make dinner for you.

I see him as a quick learner and he's always watching when others cook. So he'll pull out some of Darry's recipes and make you a wonderful dinner to the best of his abilities.

He'll meet you at the door, pull you inside, and treat you like a princess the whole night. He'll even dress up (with what he has) and wine and dine you for Christmas. He loves you, trust.

Ponyboy Michael Curtis:

He's drawing you for Christmas. His gift will be customized artwork of you.

When I say customized art work, I think he'll have a refrence photo of you and he'll draw you with words he thinks describe you. Something like this.

When he gives you the picture, it'll be in a little envelope with the sweetest little christmas love note. He's cheesy, don't hold it against him.

Tags: @witchyleehibernates

[caspiansinclair]

TRK KANDREW QUOTES:

- "Andrew twisted and punched the wall hard enough to split the skin along his knuckles. Kevin took a quick step forward, hand out like he could stop Andrew from landing a second blow"

- "You shouldn't be outside if you're coming down with something," Kevin said. "Such concern." Andrew grinned at Kevin's cool tone. "Don't cry, Kevin. It's nothing a nap and some vitamin C can't fix."

- Kevin had a knee hugged to his chest and his face hidden in the fold of his arm. His knuckles were white where his hand was clenched into a fist. Neil didn't think it was the bus that was making Kevin shake like that. "Look at me," Andrew said. "It'll be fine. You believe me, yes?" "I believe you," Kevin said, muffled but noticeably strained.

- "Andrew has neither purpose nor ambition," Kevin said. "I was the first person who ever looked at Andrew and told him he was worth something. When he comes off these drugs and has nothing else to hold him up I will give him something to build his life around." (my fav quote)

- Kevin had eyes only for Andrew as he crouched in front of the downed goalkeeper. "So," Kevin said, "did you have fun?" Andrew was too tired to put any heat in his words. "You are despicable, Kevin Day. I don't know why I keep you around."

- Kevin only smiled, slow and sure and pleased, and offered Andrew a hand. Andrew looked at it, then at Kevin, and let Kevin haul him to his feet.

- "Why do you have his drugs?" "I hold onto them when he's adjusting his schedule," Kevin answered. "Game nights or nights like tonight when he wants to go into withdrawal, it's better if someone else keeps the bottle. If he has his pills he'll take them. He won't be able to help himself."

- "When I said I wasn't Andrew's type, I meant it. It's not about my looks or faith. It's that I'm a woman." Neil heard her words but was slow to understand them. He blinked at her in confusion, blinked again when it clicked, and said a little too loudly, "Oh. Then Andrew and Kevin—"

- "Andrew won't agree to this," Abby said, a last-ditch effort to change their minds. "Going means leaving Kevin behind. They haven't had more than a campus between them since Andrew took Kevin under his wing."

- "Kevin," Andrew called from out of sight. Kevin nearly knocked the chair over in his hurry to answer. Neil watched from the doorway as Andrew stopped almost right up against Kevin. Andrew pat Kevin down for imaginary injuries and Kevin stood motionless until he was done."

- "Look at that face, Bee. He wants me sober more than almost anyone does, but only if the timing's right. I warned you, didn't I? Who will take care of Kevin if I'm gone? I can't trust him wandering around here by himself, and Coach can't be with him all the time. Kevin's kind of a full-time job."

- "I can't believe you're sending Andrew away," Kevin said, a little sharply.

- "She shouldn't have taken Andrew away," Kevin said in a low voice.

- Kevin is not like us; he is valuable but he is not property in the same sense. He escaped because he had family to run to." "Andrew?" Neil guessed.

- “Kevin had spent the better part of a year trying to get through to Andrew. He wanted Exy to mean something; he wanted Andrew’s best preformance like a dying man wanted one last breath of air. Andrew knew it, and he refused to play along.”

- (this one’s long:) "So you'll try," Kevin said through gritted teeth, "because Coach asked you to."

Andrew folded his arms across his knees, tilted his head back, and smiled up at Kevin.

"Careful, Kevin. Your jealous streak is showing."

"For eight months you've told me no. In eight seconds you told him yes. Why?"

"Oh, that's easy." Andrew stuffed the last of his gear into his bag and zipped it shut. He slung the bag over his shoulders and got to his feet, standing up so close to Kevin he almost knocked Kevin back a step.

"It's just more fun to tell you no. That's what you wanted, right? You wanted me to have fun. I am. Aren't you?"

For someone so small, Andrew made a lot of noise when shoved into the lockers. Andrew was laughing as he crashed into the orange metal. Neil didn't know what amused Andrew more: Kevin's violence or the splash of blood that now stained the front of Kevin's shirt. Neil hadn't even seen Andrew take a knife out, but it was in his hand in the air between them. Kevin retreated from Andrew with a sharp curse.

"Jesus, Andrew!" Matt said. "Kevin, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Kevin put a hand to his chest as if checking the truth of his words. Neil was at the far end of the lockers from them, so he couldn't see very well, but the relative lack of blood made him think the cut was shallow. It was long, but it wasn't serious. It was going to sting when Kevin put heavy armor overtop it tonight, though.

Andrew stepped away from the lockers and got in Kevin's space again. He put the edge of the blade against Kevin's chest over his heart and peered up into Kevin's face. Kevin looked more angry than intimidated as he stared back. Matt started toward them, maybe thinking he had to break up round two of their fight. Kevin didn't look away from Andrew when he motioned at Matt to back off.”

[rei-ismyname]

Logan shouldn't be allowed near children

I know that's a loaded title but I stand by it. There's obviously an element of Flanderisation going on but considering his stated reason for opening the Jean Grey school he is far too eager to murder children.

Why TF is he leaping at children, snarling with his claws out? Check out the frothing drool.

For example, in All-New X-Men, the O5 have just been bought to the future by Hank McCoy. He stops teaching his violence through yelling class and heads out the front, leaping at the 16 year olds with his claws out. Not Hank, who brought them there but clearly traumatised children - while screaming like a lunatic of course. Even if he's not trying to kill them, what purpose does terrifying them serve? He clearly IS trying to kill them, though. I'm sure his students would love to see their headmaster butcher confused children in front of them.

Unsurprisingly, he scares the fuck out of them. In part influenced by constant threats of his violence, the O5 steal the X-Jet and flee, explicitly doubting this guy is an X-Man. His thoughts about the 16 year old Jean Grey... No dude, this isn't the Jean you know. She's a child you've tried to kill. Fucking creep.

This one is great. Young Scott has enough going on without this frothing beast advocating for his immediate execution as punishment for his future self's actions. Out front of the school with literally everyone watching. He's using his authority to advocate for slaughtering a child. Thankfully nobody agrees with him, but this is traumatic, terrifying, and affects Scott especially so badly he runs away.

No wonder he freaks out and leaves. Obviously the headmaster of a school should drop what he's doing, not for his wellbeing but to get his bike back. How is he in charge of anyone's wellbeing or moral instruction? He demands absolute obedience while doing nothing to deserve it. It's all about how Logan feels.

Here he is trying to gut a 15 year old Wiccan for having Scarlet Witch vibes, not for the or last time. I'm a little surprised he remained an Avenger after this. When you have knives for hands everyone looks like a pincushion. Except that's not it, because everyone else is a living weapon too and they mostly manage to be somewhat rational.

Why are his claws out here? Is he trying to kill him? What did he expect after threatening and traumatizing him? Snarling and shouting like an animal - isn't he trying to emulate Chuck here?

I can't remember why he's doing this but it's not the first time he's tried to kill Hope. Didn't work then either.

A 16 year old Jean uses a telepathic projection of the Phoenix to aid Wolverine in a fight. He stupidly thinks it's real and straight up tries to kill her. The bad guys get away. Not sure how many times he has to attempt to kill the Phoenix before he understands it's not an appropriate thing to do, nor is it about him. He's more like Sabertooth than he thinks, except he thinks he's in the right and somehow never gets called out. Logan has advanced senses - how is his instinct to straight up kill her instead of investigating further?

We can do better

I think that once Logan reached a certain point of saturation he became static. The lone wolf that's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is behave so unpleasantly it's hard to believe anyone would want to be near him, let alone allow him to run a school. He says 'bub' a lot and he snikts at the drop of a hat while repeating the same interpersonal drama over and over. I see him as a frequent self insert for the worst kind of toxic masculinity yet he's more popular than ever. No judgement if you like him at all, but I think the character deserves better. Somehow he's still a misunderstood loner despite a lot of people knowing him very well - with the amount of teams and books he's in he has the most active social life in 616. It'll never happen but I'd like to see him retire, as there are several Wolverines better than he..

[wandering-pirate]

Permanent Eclipse

Summary: We saw it all happen from Jimmy's eyes, but what was going through the dying intern's mind during his final moments?

Words: 1.5k

Tags: Angst, heavy angsty angst

TW: Character deaths and gore (mouthwashing being mouthwashing)

a/n: i was inspired (tortured) by this tiktok: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS62aWV9h/

He screwed up. Again.

One chance to redeem himself from all the headaches he caused the whole crew - all down the drain. One chance to save Anya, the person who treated him like a sibling - gone. One chance to make the man he looked up to proud... how he wished to see Swansea smile at something he did, with genuine pride. He'll never be able to see that.

Daisuke's irregular breathing was filling the whole room up, loud and uneven, like the chaos in his head. Regret. Self-loathing. Guilt. And gosh, Anya. He never saw something so empty in his life. Her eyes that used to look at him with warmth and care, were now cold voids.

The gut-clenching pain of the scene twisted harder than his raw and oozing wounds. It didn't matter though, because the only person that could heal him was now sitting lifeless before him. And it was all his fault.

The loud banging of the medbay door snapped him out of his daze. The reason why he climbed the vent came back to him and he limped towards it. The second the lock clicked under his trembling hands, his legs crumpled.

“Hey bud, I got you! What happe--”

“Anya... Anya, she-- she’s--”

One look. Daisuke's brows furrowed, stunned by how the co-pilot didn’t even spare a glance at the nurse's body. His focus solely on finding a spot to lean the wounded intern against.

“I know, I know. Let’s get you cleaned up first, alright?”

Jimmy's arms steadied him, but all the young man could look at was the face of their substitute captain. His pressed lips, the prominent line between his brows, his clenched jaw. Daisuke winced at the pure disappointment silently radiating from him.

He shivered at the cool metal wall Jimmy placed him on. Having a clear view of Anya... and goodness, he forgot about their bandaged captain. What hit him hard was seeing Curly's wide eye transfixed at her, tears were flowing in one continuous stream.

"This might sting, Daisuke, but it'll disinfect your wounds, alright? Just hang in there, bud"

When the mouthwash hit his open flesh, he barely flinched. The sting being a distant feeling perceived by his hazy mind. Receiving the harsh treatment from the co-pilot's hands, Daisuke could not even react. Jimmy worked quickly, but the boy's gaze was glued to Anya. Just lying there. A corpse. Maybe… maybe she wasn’t gone.

Yeah! That's it. Anya was just showing how Swansea and he have acted the past few days with their mouthwash alcoholism. She was just proving a point, right? Just making him have a taste of his own medicine. She'll get up. She'll stop the charade after knowing that Daisuke's hurt... She wasn’t really…

"She's dead, Daisuke. Let's focus on patching you up"

Jimmy cut through him like death's scythe. Cold and unforgiving. His mind wondered why the co-pilot was nonchalant with the whole thing. Maybe he blamed him. There's nothing Jimmy could do because Daisuke failed to save her.

He never even realized how his vision blurred from the tears. Hearing the words he kept denying himself shattered him. Dead. Of course she's dead. And it's all his fault.

His wounds made even the lightest of breaths a battle, the nauseating smell of metal mixed with sweet mint. The guilt clawed at his guts, unforgiving, unrelenting. It was all too much. His body was shutting down.

The last thing he remembered was Jimmy swearing and shouting his name. Yeah, he deserved that, every nasty word thrown at him, he'd take it.

When he woke, he didn’t feel any better. If anything, it was worse. Heat and excruciating pain throbbed under his wounds, radiating out like fire while the rest of him shivered uncontrollably. Every nerve in his body screamed, yet all he could think about was the heavy presence sitting beside him.

Swansea.

Daisuke froze. He wasn't ready to face the man he looked up to. Couldn’t meet the mechanic’s eyes. Daisuke wasn't a shy one nor was he an introvert, but at that moment, all he wanted to do was to dig himself a grave. To hide. To be forgotten. To just.. disappear.

Jimmy’s disappointment was already too much; Swansea’s would destroy him. Daisuke's eyes were closed but his ears were definitely not, and his lips trembled after hearing the older man sigh, deep and gravelly.

"What were you thinking?"

Soft. Too soft. Was it pity? Is it rage masked with calmness? Daisuke panicked. Swansea never used this tone. He yelled, barked orders, always had sarcastic quips. But, not this. This calmness was worse. This calmness meant his mentor had abandoned all hope on him.

"I-I'm sorry..." Daisuke meant it to be a steady apology, but it left his lips in a shaky whisper. He hated how pathetic he was being.

"Look, it ain't yer fault," Swansea rubbed his face. "If anyone is to blame, it's that ass actin' captain this whole damn time."

All those words fell into the fire, burnt into ashes. Daisuke wanted to believe him, but no. Every terrible decision, every wrong turn, it all led back to himself. Anya’s death. His wound. The infection eating away at him.

Every second was agony, it felt like running a marathon just by wiping his tears. Every movement, blades raking through his skin down to the bone.

The world dissolved into a haze, Swansea’s figure reduced to a shapeless blur. Each breath he took felt like dragging shattered glass through his already tired lungs. His thoughts twisted into knots he couldn’t untangle—tight, choking, blaming

It’s all my fault

Home. I just wanna go home. I can’t do this anymore

I should’ve been braver—no, smarter—why wasn’t I smarter? Why did I screw up again?

Anya, I’m sorry. Gosh, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this

I should’ve been stronger, faster. Maybe then… maybe then I could’ve saved you

Swansea… I let you down

Mom, I—Mom, I’m sorry. For everything. For being me. For not being the son you wanted

If only… if only I’d been better. Maybe then none of this would’ve happened

Jimmy and Swansea were arguing but it all blurred into a single incoherent mumble. Every word drifted into a distant echo with the boy's eyelids growing more and more heavy.

For the second time, Daisuke lost consciousness, his body succumbing to the pain. Even in his dreams, his guilt followed him. Denying him rest, plaguing him with nightmares.

His vision blurred after returning to consciousness. His sight flickering in and out of focus. After having some clarity, his eyes met the dull gray metal ceiling, a yellow blob sticking out on his peripheral. He's now reminded of the mechanic's presence. How much time has passed? Did the mechanic stay beside him after all his failures?

The infection, it had to be worse now. It wasn’t just the wound that was tearing at him—it was everything else, unrelenting tidal waves of nausea, the aching, feverish delirium that had him questioning whether he was awake or dreaming.

Daisuke tried to speak, but even a grunt felt like blades were cutting his throat. All he could do was lay there, pathetically, his body too weak to move. Too worn out to ask the mechanic for his forgiveness. It wasn’t just the wound anymore—it was his entire self getting split open from the inside.

He didn’t notice the way his body twitched and jerked. But Swansea saw it all—the tremors in his limbs, the shallow, uneven breaths, the thin sheen of fever-slick sweat on his skin. To anyone with two functional eyes, it was clear: Daisuke’s body was falling apart. Piece by agonizing piece.

"It's alright, Daisuke. Calm down."

The deep voice cuts through the fog. Again with his soft tone, but something was different this time. There was this quiet desperation in the way the gruff man spoke... Was that sorrow?

He opened his eyes, looking up to the mechanic. His senior was furrowing his eyebrows like he usually does, but his eyes. They were mourning.

"You coulda taught an old fool like me a lot"

Daisuke strained hard to understand all the words. He tamed his writhing body, steadied his breathing and kept his half-lidded eyes on Swansea. With every ounce of strength left, he fought to show the man that he was listening.

"Just a damn good kid tryin his best"

It dawned on him - sharp and cold. The man was saying his goodbyes.

"Close your eyes, Daisuke..."

The axehead was above Swansea's head now, and for a moment, Daisuke's thoughts scattered. Was Swansea really going to kill him? He knew he deserved it, but it somehow ached his whole being. It wasn't like the sharp pain from his wounds or the burning fever. It was a numb, suffocating, and heavy kind of ache that sucked him of all his strength.

But even now, with everything crumbling, the intern followed the mechanic's instructions. His lashes fluttered shut, pressing his unshed tears down his fevered cheeks.

Maybe, just maybe, if he got it right this time, he'd finally hear it:

"You did good, kid"

[stupidlittlespirit]

Hello!

Sorry if this has already been asked before, but do you have any tips for writing Ford?

Thank you and I'm sending you a virtual hug <3 🫂

Hey!

Thank you so much <3

I'll put some of the stuff I find helps me below here. I find it really hard to describe sometimes so if it doesn't make sense or if you want clarification then let me know :)

Be familiar with the source material. This might sound silly but I've seen fics where the a/n is like 'yeah I haven't read Journal 3 or finished the show but I wanted to write-' .....Please. Just. Finish the show and the Journal. The Journal gives you TONS of useful insight into Ford's actual personality and I think you see a lot more of his mannerisms in it. Rewatch his episodes. Use what you've got of canon stuff.

Watch other stuff with JK Simmons in. It'll be helpful for you to pick up how he sounds and then make it easier replay his tone in your head and make your dialogue more accurate. I don't actually know how helpful this tip is bc I brought this up to my partner (RE: Hearing the character's exact voice in your head as you write) and they said this isn't really something people do, so I'm not sure if I'm alone in that technique or not....? (also sorry Mr Simmons but a lot of your movies are d o g s h i t! So, suffer through them as much as you can for the sake of research. Whiplash isn't in the bad pile though btw, it's one of the greatest movies ever made. Just watch that 14 times in a row until you can quote the entire thing by heart. Or use Portal/Cave Johnson audio. Much more fun.)

Know the Ford you're writing. Is he younger, likely at college? Is he research-era? Is he post-portal? Ford presents (at least to me) as multiple different versions of himself over the course of his journey. He has fundamental traits but the degree to which he displays/shows/acknowledges/applies them varies dramatically depending on where he is in life and who he's around.

Balance him. He's strict and sharp and sometimes rude, but not so much that he's devoid of all other emotion. He's funny and he likes to get silly sometimes. We're literally told that exact thing (quite a lot actually) in the canon material. This is especially relevant if you're writing post portal Ford or pre-Bill/pre-obsession-with-work Ford. Again, he isn't all the time but he definitely is more than people give him credit for. If you're writing Ford during his Bill obsession stage then he's going to be erratic and harmful, more than anything to himself. He's going to be acting poorly because he isn't in his right mind, so extend some sympathy to the guy. You don't have to make it okay that he might be lashing out and hurting others, obviously, but there's a reason behind why he's acting like that. He isn't just 'a bad guy'.

However, he is also an asshole sometimes. Everyone can be. He's very diverse. This diva HAS the range! (He experiences the world in a very different way to most other people, I think, so his behaviour can be perceived as difficult to 'normal' people).

Ford is never one emotion at a time. No character is. If he's angry, there's going to be a reason behind that anger and then several emotions behind that reason. Is he telling someone off because he's intrinsically and irrevocably an asshole? No! He might have been afraid of them getting hurt and snapped at them, and the fear shows as anger. Maybe he's frustrated with them and doesn't know how to appropriately address that frustration. There's always a reason.

If he is just being a bit of jerk, because that's plausible, it's not going to be the case that every time he does something that can be perceived as being jerky, that he is being so.

He is very full of love. For his family, for his work, for his friends, for his object of affection (these tips apply to him in general, if you're writing ship stuff or reader stuff or gen). He is full to the brim with it, he just struggles to identify it, to know how to show it and how to express it.

I think that for Ford, acknowledging his feelings is a bit like touching a hot stove: He recoils from them immediately because feelings are painful and intense, and they're hard to handle. They hurt and he's going to be loathe to keep touching the thing that reliably burns him every time he goes near it. Ford isn't very good at being bad at things and he IS bad at emotions. Really bad. They're not finite or logical or able to be proven like science is. They're artistic and available for interpretation, and they're often nonsensical. That's hard to get your head around for someone who likes to view everything from a black and white perspective.

If you think he has a disorder (autism, BPD, NPD, HPD, whatever) and you yourself don't have that thing, then RESEARCH THE FUCKING THING! Ask people who do have it for advice. Treat it with respect. People that have 'negative traits' from these types of disorders (and believe me, people do think you're awful if you have a personality disorder or autism) are not inherently bad people and them enacting their symptoms doesn't make them evil, provided they know how to acknowledge their wrongdoing post behaviour and try to do better in the future. If I split on someone and act out by starting a fight, it is my responsibility to return to that person and apologise for inappropriately starting a fight once I've cooled down. It can be hard, it can be done through gritted teeth, it will be uncomfortable, but it must still be done because I'm an adult. Obviously, when it comes to things like this, we're always working on a sliding scale because people with complex mental health issues don't always know they've made a mistake so they may not feel like they need to apologise/may not even know that they've done something wrong if they're in a really bad episode. That's difficult to get right however, and I would not recommend writing intensely detailed stuff like that unless you're very used to/accustomed to the disorder.

HE KNOWS HOW TO SAY SORRY and he knows when he's fucked up. This is a skill he's learnt better over time. I think it would be most relevant to use if you're writing him post-portal, though. I don't think this was a skill he had when he was younger/pre-portal and if he did apologise, it was something that had to be really dragged out of him.

Show that he's tender and capable of empathy. I think it was only really during his obsessional years that he locked off that part of his brain, and even then it was more out of pure delusion and trauma/self-protection than it was an inherent drive to be evil. He's never been evil, just misguided, betrayed and a bit of an ass at times.

He does more through action than through talk. In comparison to Stan, who is all mouth and uses verbal communication frequently, Ford is more physically inclined. He tries to be very esoteric but he gives away a lot in his behaviour instead of talking. I don't actually think he knows he does this and that's why he thinks he's super mysterious.

If you're stuck on a scene, play it out as him. Not yourself. It's not so much how am I going to do this, but how is Ford going to do this? What do you think Ford would do in that moment, according to what you've seen him do in the show?

Don't be afraid to make your own Ford, to a certain extent. I'm not writing about a strictly canon!Ford. He's informed by canon for the most part, but he's also my little barbie to dress up and be silly with. I don't necessarily have to solely make him do what I think his canon counterpart would do. I think canon!Ford is aroace/just not interested in romantic or sexual relationships. I don't think he has interest in much of the stuff that my fanon!Ford does, but this is fantasy land and Ford isn't real so we can do whatever we want. He'll feel more real if you give him his canon traits and then add some of your own spices to the recipe on top.

Be nice to him. This isn't advice, I'm just begging you LMAO. When you're writing him talk about his science stuff or whatever, have your other character (reader, I presume?) be engaged and happy to listen to him. I wouldn't be interested in someone who annoyed me with their passions, so don't write it as though he pisses you off because the audience can tell if you don't actually like him that much. They will pick up on how you really feel about a character as the author unless you're an excellent liar and it's really hard to actually lie like that and retain a sense of genuine love in your story. Just treat him with love and care. Treat any character with it.

Okay anyway WHEW that's a lot! Sorry. These are just things that I do and they're not my view of how to write Ford 'correctly' or anything, they're just what I find helps me characterise him for my fics. I'm sure plenty of people would disagree with my interpretation and that's fine, we're all receptive to art in different ways so there's not really a 'right' way to be for the most part. Just listen to what he tells you/shows you about himself and the way in which other characters speak about him truthfully.

[selinymaz]

She sat on the counter with her coffee on her knee, legs moving back and forth. The warmth of the shower made her feel like an entire new person, with the addition of the comfy clothes. The hot cup of coffee that rested on her lap was a good distraction while new emotions of being in his home and in his presence continuously ran through her with every conversation and hour passing. She hadn't realized how easy it would be to fall back in sync with him and just how large of a hole he'd left in her life. She'd grown accustomed to it, even to the point where she failed to realize, until she found herself here. For a lot of her life, he'd been her person, confidante, the one who always had her back. She missed that.

"I'm glad that your mom is doing well." Her eyes landed on him when he mentioned himself, frowning slightly. She could tell that he was struggling but she knew even when the news reached her across the world that he would be a mess. Rodeo had been his identity for so long and it was essentially who he was, so it was natural that he felt completely unravelled without it. "I can't imagine how hard it's been. I won't feed you some bullshit that it'll get easier because it's in your blood. You'll always miss it." It was a loss, and much like her brother's death, that grief was something that she just got used to carry over time. It never eased. "But for whatever its worth, I'm here now. If the weight of it all becomes too much." For whatever he'd need; to grieve, to escape, to be distracted. She smiled at the mention of his nephew. "I bet. Do you have a picture? I can show you one of Billie. She's so big. So smart, brave, and kind. So much better than I ever was at her age."

Selin fished into her phone and pulled it out, handing the smiling picture of her niece upwards towards Wes. He'd likely seen her around but she still wanted to show him a more recent one. There was a flash of something across her face at his statement about her having changed. Maybe it was self-consciousness. Did people think it was bad? Would they prefer the old version? "A lot of it is the clothes, but maybe it is something else." A shaky breath came out. "I think I lost a lot of myself when..." She cleared her throat, frowning at the lump that wouldn't budge. "I needed to get out of this town and figure out what I wanted. I was worried about my dad, trying to run away from my demons. It was nice to run towards something for once." She chewed the inside of her cheek. "It was a lot. I don't think it ever felt like home like it did for Leyla. It was a necessity for work. This has been home but New-York taught me a lot. ——Is it bad?" She finally found the courage to ask, avoiding his gaze now. "Whatever you think changed." She wouldn't ever dare ask anyone else, but he was a safe space for her to be vulnerable.

Seeing Selin in this way, in the Parker family kitchen, the way he had countless times before.. it left an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. A familiar one, a nostalgic one, but unsettling nonetheless. Wes watched her, his gaze softening at the sight as a small smile plays on his lips. It was so easy to fall back into rhythm like this with her, the way things almost felt effortless, like no time had passed at all. There was something comforting about having her here again — like a piece of his life that had been missing was suddenly back in place, even if just for a fleeting moment.

"Their lives are as chaotic as ever," he said, leaning against the counter across from her as he takes a sip of his tea. "They're.. well, I think my mom's happy I'm not.. you know." Selin knew all too well about his family's qualms over his choice of career. He knew she would understand that, too. "Eli's growin' up way too fast. He's a good kid." He realised she would've only known him as just a toddler; that was how much time had passed. It was a lot for his brain to compute. "He uh.. he's smart. Smarter than me." He paused, watching her for a beat longer, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in her expression, the way she looked at him. It wasn't just familiarity; it was more, but he couldn't quite place it. "I mean, I don't think they'd be surprised. Not by the fact that you're here with me, at least. But maybe a little shocked to see you in town, after all this time."

Did you put honey? Something of a smile tugs at his lips. "Of course. How could I forget?" Wes wanted to know more about her time in New York, about who she was. And when she claimed that she missed him, it took everything in him not to respond with the fact that he'd missed her, too. But he knew that once the words left his mouth, it would be harder to keep everything else buried. So, he held his tongue, letting the silence linger for a beat longer than usual before he spoke, his voice low and steady. “You seem different somehow,” he finally said, his gaze steady on her. "I always thought you'd make your mark somewhere big, you know? New York sounded like the perfect fit for you. —What's it been like?"

[dracimexidae]

I want to cry i'm getting anxious all of the sudden 🙃 🇮🇹

[fisheito]

yakuya in MY swamp? in MY ecosystem? no . i am still in disbelief. i hope you all know that my particles are bouncing off the everything. i am using periods as punctuation but the state of my mind is naught neareth final.

[brooklynisher]

Flat colors down!

Now it's just line cleanup, hands, and shading.

[iceeericeee]

I wonder how many tags i can add on to this