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#which i think gives us neat things to work with when it comes to the whole ''what if'' kinda stuff- so!!! yea i just think it's neat :]
airbenderedacted · 9 months
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So who’s your favorite character in Wander Over Yonder? And what’s your fav ship(s)?
Oh, I love playing this guessing game!! ♡ ~('▽^人) ✨
Favorite character? Well...
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[🎨📺]
As for ships, I wouldn't exactlyy say I ship anything in this show tbch, but I'd say I'm especially fond of Sylava, in a strictly fanon kinda way.
#Wander Over Yonder#Lord Dominator#woy is funny bc the core four are all so shippable but nothing rlly does it for me. i think nearly all possible pairs there have some charm#when considering *all five* of the mains not a whole lot changes bc dominator's a lesbian and sylvia is the only other main who isn't a dud#(i'm not a pr.o.shi.pper so bigoted type stuff grosses me out when it comes to shipping. we don't go there eugyhgfghhs)#tbcch i'm of the firm belief that lord dominator shouldnt be shipped with anyone in a srs sense. like as far as staying true to canon goes#she's made it extremely clear that she's not into that kinda stuff *and* that she's wAy too horrible for any kinda relationships anyway#but when it comes to lighthearted silly fanon stuff (or any degree of au stuff where *GASP* D isn't a demon & they Work) sylava makea me :)#(in whatever way ppl wanna imagine them. i'm partial to ''yes homo no romo'' qpr type goodness w/ them but i love seeing Everyone's takes!!#partially bc it's nice to see people actually. care. about what dom is and is not about (sexuality-wise). which is THE BARE MINIMUM but wel#a lot of people Do Not do that! sadly sexism and homophobia exist and it seeps into a lotta things in a lotta small ways and *sobs*#SO YEAH IT'S NICE TO SEE. NOT THAT. it's nice to see as a light shining through the darkness that is the internet & 2010s show fandoms sks#ah & partially bc sylava is like. literally the only ship ever kinda-sorta-teased in the show in a way that wasn't just played for jokes#which i think gives us neat things to work with when it comes to the whole ''what if'' kinda stuff- so!!! yea i just think it's neat :]#in both an ''in another life...'' not-so-hypothetical chemistry kinda way AND in an 'im a real stickler for Canon Goodness' kinda way too#haha#as for other ships i'm especially partial to... mmmmm.. 🤔#deathglare in the context of hater learning to cherish & appreciate peepers and treat him RIGHT makes me happy. i like that :)#and skeleton dance is always fun!!!! a real delight both on and off the screen hehah#most everything else makes me go ''oh cool. yea that's cute.'' 👍#ships involving minor characters are pretty take it or leave it. i dont think there's any i have any strong feelings about#except ig that it was pretty sweet when people were shipping lord hater & ripov. tbh i like how many ships people came up with w/ her#that was really swag. she was a fun character!!
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animationismycomfort · 9 months
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currently making shooters eye way more cool and way more of a burden then it ever could be in the original show
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grandlinedreams · 4 days
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|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification
|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye
|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching
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“Where are we going?”
Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.
“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.” 
She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.) 
Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.
“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”
“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”
Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ” 
“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.” 
Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels. 
Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.
He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow. 
There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands. 
Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”
She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.
“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.” 
To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner. 
“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.” 
Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”
The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”
“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”
Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route. 
“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”
“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”
The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.” 
You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to. 
“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.” 
It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him. 
The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something. 
That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.
 
“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?” 
You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.” 
It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body. 
When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”
You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”. 
“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?” 
This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.
He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts. 
Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.  
“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.” 
You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that. 
Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.
Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too. 
“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.” 
Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ  but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now. 
“Take me with you.” 
That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”
“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”
Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time. 
“That's not an answer, Cooper.” 
He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”
“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.” 
He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.” 
Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.” 
Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.
Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.
Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander. 
Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg. 
“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.” 
His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him. 
The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest. 
“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest. 
“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?” 
Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face. 
“Well? Got what you need?"
Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.
And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused. 
“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”
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sweetiecutie · 8 months
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Ok ok listen-
teacher!valeria x student!reader🫶🫶
(I imagen her and us having "study sessions" she calls us in her classroom to talk about our grades or she calls us in her classroom so she can "help" us with something that we didnt understand 😻😻and could reader be a fem?. if u dont want to do this is ok!!🫶❤️)
Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, university AU!, professor/student trope, age gap implied
A/n: this is literally so sexy, I’m about to cream my fucking pants😩
Okay, so this is a university au, in which Valeria is one of the professors. I have a feeling that she would be teaching something hard and complicated - let’s say math.
Professor Garza is very strict. She’s one of the people who value discipline and order over anything else, punishing everyone who dares disturbing it. Valeria wouldn’t think twice before giving out detentions and extra work for behavior she deems unacceptable within auditorium. Chatting during her lectures? - detention. Forgetting to do homework she gave? - detention and double the amount of exercises you had to be handed over to her due to 3 pm the next day.
Many students fear Miss Garza, many hate her, many like her; but every single one has some sort of respect for her cold and stoic demeanor. Valeria is strict and demanding , but she’s also one of the bestest - many students wish to be teached by her.
And even if it seems nearly impossible, Valeria does have favorites. Very few - 3-4 students in whole university, but boy are they privileged.
Valeria values conformity over anything else. She prefers students that are polite and well-behaved, never causing any commotion or fuss. And you happened to be just that - miss goody two shoes, one of the bestest in your year, never once failing ho hand in whatever assignment Valeria gave you, no matter how complicated or cumbersome the work was.
Garza quickly caught onto your skills, and by the end of first year she already valued you over the rest of your group. Not only the brilliance of your mind, which was capable of so many amazing thing, drew her in; you’re quite a sight for sore eye as well - clothes always neat and ironed, hair framing your pretty face perfectly no matter what, light makeup only highlighting your natural beauty. Valeria couldn’t help her eyes lingering on your soft thighs whenever you decided on wearing a skirt or a dress to uni, flooding her head with images of these exact thighs spread wide before her.
It was quite a challenge for Valeria to find any mistakes in your works. You were a smart little girl, she had no doubts about it at that point. But every time, with extreme effort, professor Garza managed to find all the little flaws in your works. They did seem ridiculous tho, something other math professors wouldn’t even deem as a mistake. So first time this happened you came up to the older woman, asking about your strangely low grade; and Valeria, voice softer with feigned sympathy, patiently explained why she had to grade you so lowly. “I hope you do better next time, hm?” She’d say with a small smile, dismissing you from her classroom. Oh how the sight of your pouting lips and teary eyes got her off
As semester drew nearer to its end your works didn’t seem to improve even a slightest bit. At this point you were convinced that it was something personal - that professor Garza simply disliked you (oh if only you knew). So it was a surprise when Valeria called out for you to stay behind as everyone was leaving after the end of her lecture. You obediently descended the stairs of high auditorium, coming to her desk, standing there patiently as all the students left.
Once alone in the room, Valeria turned to face you, one hip leaning onto the edge of her working desk. Her dark eyes gazed at you from above thin lenses of her reading glasses, arms crossed over her chest making her tits perk up teasingly from within two unmade buttons of her white blouse.
“Y/n, I wanted to talk to you about your grades” she said, her voice sounding a bit softer than usual - voice she used on you only. Your body tensed slightly at her words, your fingers gripping your books more tightly as you looked at her tentatively.
“I made a small research on your academic performance and it seems that you only struggle with my subject. Is there any particular reason to this?” She asked, concern lacing her words.
You bit your tongue, fighting back bitter words of indignation - it was Valeria’s fault only that your grades in math were so low. But you kept silent, gazing dully onto the floor under your feet. Professor Garza heaved a heavy sigh, her heart thrumming loudly within her chest at what she was about to do.
“Y/n, you’re a very smart girl, and I don’t want you to ruin your record because of arithmetics. I can give you some extra credit” she said calmly, your ears perking up at her words.
You looked up at the older woman, obviously surprised - Valeria never gave extra credit, no matter the circumstances. You blinked rapidly a few times - you won’t lose such an opportunity, you’d be a fool if you did.
“Sure, I’d be very grateful!” You said quickly, looking at Valeria with wide eager eyes.
She only smiled at your words, nodding for you to come closer. As you did, she took your books and notes out of your hands, placing them on the faraway side of her desk. “You won’t need these”
As you were going to ask what she meant her warm hand clasped around the back of your neck, slamming you against her desk. With a small squeak you were bent over the table, your cheek squished against some papers scattered on top of it. You felt Valeria’s hot chest pressing against your back, her free hand glided up and down the side of your hip as she whispered into your ear “Now I need you to be a good little girl and spread your legs wider”
And you did. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, making your knees go weak as Valeria’s hand slipped in between your soft thighs - just like she always dreamed of, massaging your soft pussy through thin material of your panties.
Soon enough these same panties were shoved into your mouth to muffle all desperate cries tearing through your chest as to not disturb other professors in nearby auditoriums; three of Valeria’s long fingers fucked in and out of your drooling pussy with loud squelching sounds, her fingertips grazing that one spot deep within you, making your eyes roll and toes curl.
You exited professor Garza’s auditorium on trembling legs, your makeup and hair unnaturally messy, eyes unfocused and bleary but - most importantly - with impeccable record on arithmetics.
But to keep your math performance this way, you had to visit professor Garza some more for extracurricular activities <3
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off feedback, give us some love<3
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inkdrinkerworld · 9 months
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a spider!reader who gives off “sweet girl next door” vibes? she tries to bring miguel cookies with he’s working on something and he scares her, coming off more angry than intended, and ends up dropping them on the floor. (collect groan lmao)
contains minor spoilers to across the spider-verse pt 2
you’d been thinking all day after the whole fiasco of recruiting gwen that miguel needed cheering up.
margo warned you not to, said, ‘he’s a grump. let him grump.’
but you hadn’t been able to take that answer. there was something about miguel that didn’t just scream grump. something seemed tired about him.
so, you tried your hand at baking him something. you’d debated for a long time of chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal cookies were more his style.
you decided on chocolate chip.
you spent two days on them, using a recipe which required brown butter, overnight chilling and a lot of dark chocolate.
you got a lot of flour on you as you baked them, watching them rise and then spread out on the floor of the kitchen.
when they were done you packed them up in a cute purple box you snagged from the cafeteria.
your heart leapt to your throat as you turned down the corner to HQ, hoping that you wouldn’t catch miguel at a bad time.
that hope is decimated when you walk in and find him grumbling to his computer.
“um, miguel?” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stand in the archway.
“what? what do you need?” he huffs and you feel some of your momentum dry up.
“i brought something for you, but if you’re busy-“ it appears that was the wrong thing to say.
“of course i’m busy! i’m always busy trying to keep the stupid multi-verse from collapsing. maybe some other time we can chit chat.”
you’d never actually been on the receiving end of miguel’s upset, and maybe this wasn’t exactly for you but his tone and the way his arms are flailing around his body makes you feel small in a way that hasn’t happened for a long time.
“right,” you whisper, managing not to cry as you jolt and the box of cookies fall. “i’m sorry for bothering you.”
miguel watches as you don’t even bend to pick up the box. he watches you turn like you’re being remote controlled and he catches sight of your hands wiping at your eyes.
“great, you’ve made her cry casanova.” lyla appears suddenly, foot tapping in air as her arms cross over her chest.
“so now i’m the bad guy?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical. he feels like the bad guy. guilt and shame burn his throat and belly like he’s downed two tequila shots with no lime or salt.
lyla flits to the box, “she made you cookies.”
miguel sighs, hands scrubbing at his face as he steps off the platform to pick up the box. in your neat cursive he notices you’ve written, ‘a pick me from having to do all the hard stuff.’
he wants to smash something. of course he’d blow up at possibly the nicest spider-woman variant. of course he’d be the asshole to make you cry too.
“where is she?” he asks lyla as he sets the box on the desk and opens it to find the cookies all broken. they smell delicious - something close to that bakery you liked when you’d visited earth-2067 with him on a scouting mission.
you and miguel always make a great team on missions and he hates to admit it but he’s very fond of you and he knows you're fond of him too.
it’s why his chest is aching and he needs to find you. “lyla, where is she?”
“in her room, blasting music and cleaning. give the girl a moment alone before you barge in there and make it worse.”
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byoldervine · 4 months
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Motivation For Writing
Getting Off Your Butt:
1. Aestheticise it. Let the light in through the curtains, turn on your fairy lights, lay a blanket over your lap, light some candles, whatever you need to do to feel like a writer. The right vibes can go a long way
2. Picture that one scene. There’s almost always a moment you’re super excited about that basically inspired the whole book. Picture it, play it out in your head in full cinematic fanfare, gush to yourself about how cool it is and how everyone will love it, picture a future fanbase going nuts for it. You might get excited enough to go back to writing
3. Set a word count goal. During NaNoWriMo this year I think I wrote more than I ever have in one go. The thing that kept me coming back was the desire to not fall behind. I ended up with ~45K words after some complications irl caused me to drop off in the final few days, and that’s all just because I was adding up the 1667 a day word count goal and realising where I needed to be at to keep up. I definitely can’t stay as rigid as I did with 1667 words every single day, but seeing that you’re only a few hundred words off of a goal is super motivating - just be sure to set realistic, easy to achieve parameters for just general use, like 1000-2000 words per week. I know 200 words per day is a popular one for people trying to establish a writing routine that can’t dedicate forever to the craft
Maintaining Motivation:
1. Writing sprints. Writing sprints are a godsend for me, I like to set myself up in the living room with Abbie Emmons’ writing sprint video on. The video lasts two hours and is broken up into two parts; 25 minutes to write and 5 minutes for breaks between writing, so four 30 minute sprints overall. Having the timer and countdown with peaceful music and an aesthetic background is both relaxing and encouraging, as well as giving me a specific time for how much longer I have to push through. It’s easier for me to say “Okay, only ten more minutes, then you can take a break” then it is to say “Just keep going, we’re not stopping until I say so” which is too arbitrary for my brain to accept
2. Give yourself a choice. If you’re struggling to keep your focus, come up with a finish line and tell yourself you don’t have to do any more work once you’ve reached that point. Finish the paragraph, go for another five or ten minutes, keep it up until your next scheduled break. Whatever sounds realistic and doable without being overwhelming. And once you’ve met this goal, ask yourself if you still want to stop. With any luck, you’ll have gotten back into the zone and will choose to keep going. Maybe you’ll want to take a quick break but you’ll come back later on. And maybe you’ll decide that now actually is a good stopping point. Just remember that, if you do still want to stop, don’t force yourself to keep going. You can’t strike deals with yourself if you know you won’t keep your word and all you’ll end up doing is burning yourself out, which will lead to even less writing getting done
3. Try a new angle. If you can’t be bothered to write anymore, is there anything else you can do for your book? Plotting, editing, worldbuilding, character sheets, one-shots all that sort of thing can still be productive for your book while still being different enough to give your brain a slight respite. It also means less work in that particular area later on
Afterwards:
1. Organise. Clean up your workspace and put everything away so it’s nice and neat for when you come back to it. Or if you don’t need to pack things out the way, set it up in an aesthetically pleasing way so it will tempt you back next time. Let it give you the writer vibe
2. Take care of yourself. Get a drink, have a snack, walk about, stretch your limbs, take a breath, cuddle your pet. Something that gets you away from straining your eyes looking at text for a bit. This is also a good time to reward yourself if positive reinforcement is something you use on yourself. If you always feel shitty after your writing sessions, you won’t want to go back to it
3. Positive reflection. Make sure to tell yourself you did good, even if you didn’t get as much done as you would’ve liked or it isn’t up to a standard of quality you’re aiming for. That can all be fixed later on, and you’re infinitely better off than you would’ve been if you didn’t do it. Be proud of yourself. Tell yourself you’re proud of your hard work and your dedication and your effort. Remind yourself that this is a fun thing you like to do. Marvel over how insane it is that you’ve gotten this far - not many people do - and that you’ve got all this tangible work to prove you’ve accomplished something so many people wish they could pull off. If this isn’t fun overall, there’s no point
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theminecraftbee · 7 months
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sigh okay this year i have actual mob vote opinions. disclaimer: my MAIN opinion is that if i see too much mob vote salt on my dash i'll just block the relevant terms again, and that all three mobs are adorable and i'd like any of them. however, my vague thoughts on them:
crab: i have inherent vault hunters-based crab grudges. the coconut crab appears in my nightmares. however, past that, the crab as an animal is fun, i like crabs alright. the fact it's shown crawling up trees sideways is neat. i'll say mangrove forests are ALREADY one of the loveliest, most alive-feeling biomes, so i don't know if they need an exclusive mob? but it's also realistic for the crab so i'll take it. when it comes to the crab claw itself... many questions. is it an off-hand item? or like create's extendo-reach thing? or what? how MUCH additional reach does it give you? even just two blocks can be wildly useful in my modded experience, but like, is it one or two blocks, or does it double your reach, or what? and does that reach extend to mining at all? the video says it's just block placing, which would make sense from a balance perspective, but does sort of hamstring the claw's usefulness if that's the case; if you misplace a block you're going to have to scaffold over there anyway. if it DOES include mining reach... oh boy, that's a whole new ballgame.
armadillo: cute! i like armadillos! seeing it curled up as a ball, i wonder if it has a block-like form like that? that sounds really fun! like a shulker, or something else you could stand on. (that is PURE speculation, nothing else to suggest that is shown in the video.) it being found in "warm biomes like the savannah" i like more than the mangrove-exclusive crab, especially since the savannah can feel a little sparse and lifeless. i wonder if it's in other warm biomes? as for its effect, it has the most straightforward one: when it gets scared it sheds its scute, and you can use that to make wolf armor. i like wolf armor! wolves have needed some way to make them more survivable for ages! it's not like, got potential to be a massive gamechanger or anything, but it doesn't have to, it's fun!
penguins: by FAR the cutest design. i love that they chose macaroni penguins, excellent choice. the fact they're native to stony shore biomes is also an excellent choice (and far better than choosing a snowy biome; more penguins live in places like the stony shore irl!). the stony shore having penguins also gives it a bit more of the life stony shorelines have irl. their secondary effect, though... honestly, "make boats go faster" doesn't really speak to me? i am enjoying imagining a world where this effect works while iceboating (prepare to rubberband ALL OVER THE PLACE), and i think it would be fun, it just personally compels me the least. which is a shame, because i think the penguins are ABSOLUTELY the cutest!
overall, i think i land towards the armadillo. i like that none of them really have any big, exciting, game changing feature, just nice-to-have. makes it feel less like we miss out on something huge when two of them lose, just miss out on something potentially cute. i still wish the old mob votes could still be added to the game and that the losers here would also be added to the game. i wouldn't be mad if any of these guys won honestly they're all cute and have mildly interesting effects.
and this will be the last time i discuss the mob vote, except maybe to reblog cute art.
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chocochipsushi · 11 months
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𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬
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NSFW! minors do not interact! 18+ only!
🌸Word count: 7.8K
🌸AU: The story of how the new bodyguard fucked his hot-headed CEO
🌸CW: humiliation, bratty reader, brat tamer! Toji, mean! Toji, face slapping, name calling (mainly 'bitch' and 'brat'), use of 'Princess' and 'little doll', unprotected sex, daddy kink, age gap, almost predatory vibes from Toji, hair pulling
🌸A/N: Sorry this took so long! I'm currently working on the last chapter of Uncle Toji as well, so you can expect that in the coming weeks!!!
Main story🔞>>
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No one told you that you were going to have a change in bodyguards. You only found out when Bora came in to remind you of a meeting so you left your office, only to see a taller, less pudgy— actually, ripped man standing by Bora’s table. He was staring at you quietly with a dark gaze, his green eyes sharp and analytical. You glanced at Bora, who was smiling at the man with such an adorable blush on her cheeks that you had to turn back to him and take a better look. 
This guy had dark, black hair that was styled up, but you’re not sure if it was considered neat or messy. Maybe both. It suited his sharp face and his beady eyes that seemed to bore right into you. He had a scar at the corner of his lips, which made him look scary. Even more so when his lip twitched. You’re not sure if he was trying to smile at you, or if he was showing discomfort in seeing you. 
Whatever it was, you’re not the type to have emotional connections with your employees anyway. So you rolled your eyes to the front and walked forward to the lift. The man followed a few steps behind you, together with Bora. It was only until you were standing before the elevator and the new bodyguard had stepped forward to press on the ‘down’ button, that Bora finally introduced him to you. 
“Oh! This is Toji Fushiguro and he is your new bodyguard.” 
You turned to look up at the tall man, who simply dipped his head in a silent greeting before staring back at you. You dropped your gaze down his body and up again, giving him a once-over. Then, you turned away to Bora without saying a word to him. 
“What happened to Shino?” 
Bora actually looked nervous as she mumbled, “Um… he quit yesterday.”
“Why?” 
You already knew why. 
You weren’t the best boss ever. You had a temper. You were uncontrollable. Everyone was afraid of you. You had never mistreated any employee, but that didn’t mean you were a favourite. No employee had ever gotten close to you, or even tried. You were just too good at chasing people away with your personality. 
So when Bora hesitated to answer and the lift finally arrived, Toji held the door open and you headed straight into the box, not caring to hear the lousy explanation Bora would give. Toji had to check his phone for the floor level of your next meeting, so you muttered, still facing the closed doors of the elevator. 
“Level 17.”
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You were walking while answering an incoming phone call when Toji suddenly took your folder and your handbag from you without being asked. He had never done this before, because you never asked for your handbags to be held for you, or your confidential documents. And honestly, you didn’t actually need someone to do these things for you. But as you listened to Mr. Jung on the phone, you watched Toji carrying your things like they weighed nothing, like this was the most natural thing for him to do. You decided that he wasn’t so bad afterall. 
Well, not like you thought that he was bad, at all. Apart from being so broody and quiet, he was great at his job. People were afraid of your guard dog and he was doing a good job at keeping you safe the past week. You didn’t think you’d lasted so long without screaming at a new employee before. 
When you got off the phone with Mr. Jung, you reached out to Toji for your things. “Thanks,” you muttered. 
Toji only glanced at you for a split second before turning back to the front. “I got it,” was all he said. 
You were taken aback by his answer to say the least. The both of you hardly talked but whenever you did, they were short and straight to the point. This time wasn’t an exception. What was shocking to you was that he basically went against your instructions. Never had an employee directly under you ever done this before. 
Yet somehow, his confidence and his firmness made you feel that it was okay. You’re not sure what the logic was behind it but you let it slide this time. 
And the time after that. And the time after that. And all the other times after that. 
Now, you didn’t even have to pick up your handbag because Toji proactively did it for you. And you let him. You had to admit that you enjoyed being taken care of like this. Aside from this act that he did, he would also help you into your coat or hold his arm out for you to grab onto if you were on uneven terrain. 
Despite the short and professional conversations that you shared, you were getting along well and fine. That was until you received bad news on the phone, about one month into his time working for you. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!” you screamed the moment you put down the phone.
You got off your chair and started pacing the office. Your mind was racing and the blood in your body was boiling. You stood by your floor-to-ceiling windows in hopes of the city view giving you a bit of comfort. But nothing about you was calm. You didn’t notice Toji quietly entering your office with the cup of coffee you asked for. You were blindsided by your anger as you spoke to yourself. 
“How did we lose two big investors today?! God! Fucking incompetent shits. Fuck!!!”
Your pacing was getting more frantic as your footsteps turned into stomps. Feeling uncomfortable in your heels, you let out a frustrated groan and bent down to take your shoe off. You sent your left heel flying to the wall, where you missed Toji by just a few centimetres. You flickered your gaze to him staring at you with a certain glint in his eyes. Feeling somewhat peeved by that look he was giving you, you bent down again to take the other shoe off, leaving you barefoot now. Just as you brought your hand up to get ready to launch it at the wall, you glanced at Toji again, only to catch a quirk of his eyebrow. 
“What?!” you snapped. 
The corners of his lips were turned down as he shook his head. “Nothing.” 
He kept your gazes locked, however, not blinking once, not looking away even after a few seconds. And something in those steely green eyes of his made the fire in you die a little. So, instead, you ripped out another groan and threw your heels on the ground before squatting in your place. You cradled your head in your hands as you despaired silently. 
Your tough act broke apart when angry and frustrated tears found you. You didn’t hear Toji picking your heels off the floor but you were surprised when you saw a piece of tissue in front of you. You looked up and saw Toji squatting in front of you, looking unbothered as ever. You accepted the tissue from him and started dabbing at your tears. Toji stayed there with you, his elbow resting on a knee, his other hand holding onto your pair of heels. 
“Go away, Toji,” you muttered without looking at him, feeling quite embarrassed. 
“Let me bring you to the couch, at least. You can cry there.”
You raised your head to glare at him. Why did he have to state the obvious to a prideful and egoistic woman? “I’m not crying!” 
Toji’s eyebrow lifted but he turned the ends of his lips down and nodded. “Okay, you’re not.” 
“I really am not!” you whined and threw your tissue at him. 
This time, he looked like he stopped breathing. He tilted his head down just so slightly so that he was staring at you with a certain look in his eyes. He licked his lips. 
“That’s very rude,” was all he said. 
He was definitely admonishing you for that. And you should feel degraded and mad that an employee was speaking to you this way. But maybe it was the way he was postured, so calm and collected, or perhaps it was his dark green eyes glaring at you like a scolding father. Either way, you felt yourself backing down. You dropped your gaze and apologised. 
“Sorry,” you whispered. 
You must have forgotten when the last time you said the word ‘sorry’ was. It felt so foreign rolling off your tongue, and it made you feel so embarrassed. You didn’t even know why you had to apologise to him when you had never done so to any of your employees before. 
“You’re alright, Princess.” 
The irrational annoyance at having to apologise to your bodyguard was immediately washed away when you heard the last word of Toji’s sentence. You immediately lifted your head to look at him, only to see him picking up the wet tissue on the ground. He turned to you and saw you staring, which made him quirk an eyebrow. 
“Wanna get up now? And wear your shoes you so nicely threw at me?” 
You immediately flushed red. God, no one had ever had the balls to speak to you like this. Not even your love interests because you were just too proud. You never would have let anyone speak down to you like this. Yet for some rhyme or reason, Toji made it so easy for you to accept it. It’s like he just naturally turned you into this submissive little girl. 
“I’m sorry for throwing my shoes at you,” you whispered guiltily. 
Toji hummed. “Come on. Up.” 
He stood and held out his hand to you. You took it and let him pull you to your feet. Then, he squatted down again and actually lifted your foot to slip your heel on. You leaned down to hold yourself up by resting your hand on his shoulder. When he had helped you into your shoes again, he stood up and looked down at you. 
“Your coffee is on the table. I’ll be outside if you need me.” 
You nodded your head but grabbed his sleeve when he turned to leave. He looked back with furrowed brows. “I didn’t cry,” you told him. 
It was the first time you saw a hint of a smile on his lips. Toji nodded his head and, without another word, left the room. 
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Ever since then, you had been on your best behaviour around Toji. You never threw a fit when he was around, although he would have to clean up after you whenever he came into your office after a good thrashing session. 
You’d gotten comfortable with Toji in the few months he had been working for you. Maybe a bit too comfortable. Because while he took care of you as a bodyguard at work, that didn’t mean that he was responsible for you outside of your working schedule. Which was why it was the stupidest decision to call him after a drunk night out with your friends. 
“Is everything okay?” Toji’s rough voice sounded so quiet and confused. 
You let out a big breath. “Toji. S’rry for calling but—” You hiccuped here. “Can you bring…me home? I’m… I’m not in the capacity—”
“Send me your location. I’ll be there.”
And then he hung up like this. It took you a while to do what he asked and when you finally did it, he simply replied with “17”. So while waiting for him, you went back to sit with all your rowdy friends, who were obviously not as lightweight as you were. 
By the time Toji was escorted to your table, you were already close to passing out. You barely even heard your friends openly and loudly flirting with him because you were being lifted up to stand. You frowned at the assault but when you saw that it was Toji, you immediately melted into him and let him bring you out of the restaurant. 
You’re stumbling in the lobby of the hotel, leaning into Toji while he had one arm around you securely and his other on his phone. You groaned as you nearly slammed your cheek on his broad shoulder. 
“Wh’re is Iro?”
“It’s two in the morning. Iro is off duty,” Toji grunted. 
You huffed and glared up at him. “What about your car?” You supplied every one of your bodyguards with a brand new car each time just in case Iro wasn’t available and you required them to use it. 
“I didn’t drive.”
“Why not?” You groaned and rolled your eyes, pushing away from him. He managed to grab hold of your wrist before you stepped back too far. You were frowning at him as you scolded, “I gave you a car for a reason, Toji.”
Toji’s gaze hardened. “I was out with some friends for drinks. I wasn’t planning on working tonight.”
That immediately shut you up and sobered you up. “Oh,” you mumbled in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
He didn’t say anything but simply turned back to his phone. He managed to get a cab to your place. The entire time the both of you were quiet and the awkward tension was hanging over you like a heavy rain cloud. Toji was still holding onto your handbag, even when he walked you up to your apartment. 
He knew the passcode to your place and got you home safely. He placed your handbag on the coffee table before turning to you and breaking the silence. 
“You’re going to be okay alone?”
You didn’t respond to that question. Instead, you took a step closer to him and asked, “Are you mad at me?”
“For what?”
You shrugged and looked away. “For being a stuck-up bitch,” you mumbled. 
“Doesn’t matter if I am or not.”
You lifted your head to frown at him. “What do you mean?”
Toji shrugged. “You can be a stuck-up bitch all you want and I can’t be mad at you.”
“You can,” you argued. “And you should.” He raised an eyebrow here so you explained, “I mean, you’re the only one… I mean… I deserve it for being a bitch to you.”
Here, his lips pressed together as he shrugged. You knew he was agreeing with you. But he didn’t say anything else. So you walked over to him and grabbed his black shirt that hugged his body so nicely, tugging on the cotton material. 
“Sorry, Toji. For making you work when you shouldn’t, and for being a bitch.”
Toji finally sighed and nodded. “Alright.” When you didn’t let go of him and continued giving him the puppy eyes, he frowned. “What?” 
Your lips jutted into a pout. “Say you forgive me.”
“I forgive you,” he repeated in a deadpanned tone. You continued pouting at him, making him a little impatient. “What is it?” he grumbled. 
“You didn’t call me Princess. You’re still mad at me.”
This surprised Toji to say the least. He didn’t think you cared, or even liked being called that. He only used that term once because he was annoyed, to say the least, that you were throwing a tantrum at your age. He meant it as an insult, and he hadn’t planned on doing it again. He wanted to keep his good paying job, even if it meant having to put up with your princessy attitude. 
Toji awkwardly patted your little fist on his shirt. “I’m not mad at you, Princess.”
Something in your eyes changed when he said that and Toji caught it. His brows furrowed as he focused on your features, trying to understand what he was really looking at. The moment he saw your bottom lip push out in another pout, he immediately knew what he was dealing with. 
Just to make sure though, he wanted to gauge your reaction when he patted you on the head lightly. “You have a good rest, Princess.”
And you gave him the very reaction he was expecting. Your eyes rounded even more and your cheeks were flushed. You let go of his shirt and dropped your hands to your sides. Toji thought you looked so small like this. He waited for you to say something and when you didn’t, he nodded and took a step back. Just as he turned on his heels to head for the door, he heard you breathe his name. He turned to frown at you. 
You were nervous for some reason. You’re not sure why. Actually, you didn’t even know why you were stopping him from leaving. You could blame it on the alcohol because you would never do this sober. But you knew you would definitely think about doing this when you eyed his veiny, rough hand lifting to his face, his finger scratching his chin. You just needed the push from the alcohol to act on it. 
“You’re not mad at me?” you asked again. 
Toji shook his head. The both of you continued staring at each other; Toji waiting for you to speak while you tried to think of something else to say. He raised an eyebrow, getting a little annoyed now. You pursed your lips and looked away. Toji gave you a few more seconds before he sighed. He was about to walk away when you spoke up again, your voice the softest he had ever heard. He wondered if he imagined the slight tremble in your voice. 
“Are you going back to find your friends?” 
He turned back around to see you just so slightly pouting at him. He ran his hand through his hair as he looked at his watch. You couldn’t help your eyes roaming to his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. 
“Not sure.” Toji looked up at you. When he saw you nibbling on your bottom lip, he quirked an eyebrow. “Is there something you need?”
You shook your head quickly. He knew you wanted to say more but when you didn’t, he decided to turn away again, this time in the pretense of leaving. He knew you were going to call out to him again, which you did. He swiveled around and threw a hand up in exasperation. 
“What do you want?” Toji saw the kicked puppy look on your face and immediately regretted his actions. He took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Princess,” he started gently but frustratedly. “You want something from me. And until you tell me, I won’t know what you want.”
You hesitated again. But when you saw the lift of his scary eyebrow, you mumbled something under your breath. There was no way Toji could hear you because you’re not even sure what you actually said. Yet Toji knew. 
“What?” he muttered. You knew he was teasing you now from the way he crossed his beefy arms and his lips curled slightly in a smirk. “Come closer and let me hear you, Princess.”
You hesitated moving forward. You shuffled a little closer to him and only stayed staring. Toji lifted a sharp eyebrow again. Hanging your head, you mumbled your request again. You stopped breathing when the man bumped your chin up with his rough hand. You were staring up at him with unblinking eyes now. He was so close that you could see the light shadow of his stubble. 
“You asked if I could bring you to bed?” Toji repeated, except it sounded like he was mocking you. 
You gulped and nodded your head. Drinking had never made you so submissive or timid. Ever. And no one had made you such a docile girl before. Ever. 
You felt your heart steel when Toji scoffed. “I’m not your babysitter, sweetheart. Why would I bring you to bed?” Your lips parted slightly to say something but you stopped when he challenged, “Just get to the point and tell me you want to be fucked, why don’t you?”
You gasped. “Wha—!”
Toji let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. “And now you’re acting like that’s not true?” 
It was. But that wasn’t the point. 
“This is very unprofessional of you, Toji,” you snapped, your face heating up now. You just hoped he would pin your blush on your anger. 
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m wrong?” You continued glaring at him. “So you don’t actually want to be fucked by my big cock?”
Your heart was pounding now. You wanted to be dicked down so bad. Especially by your hot bodyguard. But you were a prideful person. 
So you crossed your arms and announced, “You’re an asshole. You’re a fucking piece of shit, Toji. I’m your boss!”
Toji crossed his arms and shrugged. “My boss that wants me to fuck her.”
“Fuck you, Toji!” you swore as you held your hand up to swing at him. 
Toji caught your wrist in midair and quirked an eyebrow. “Little girl going to hit me for speaking the truth?” You continued glaring at him and sucking on your inner cheek. Why was your heart flipping at the disrespect you were getting from him? “This is what you wanted, huh?” 
“What—”
“Being a needy little girl who needs to be tucked into bed when you just want to be fucked good?”
“Fuck you,” you spat at him. 
Toji narrowed his eyes on your angry expression. “Do not curse at me, Princess.”
You were throwing a fit now as you stood your ground and said slowly, with more emphasis, “Fuck. You. Toji.”
Your heart jumped when Toji threw your hand to the side. He took a step closer, towering over you like a huge wall. You gulped at the proximity and the dark look in his eyes. 
“You’re a spoilt brat, you know?” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Your tantrums and your shitty attitude. I put up with all of that just fine. But being a needy bitch with that attitude of yours is just distasteful.”
You felt your throat swell up and your nose prickling. Did he have to be so brutally honest with his words? 
Toji saw your eyes glistening over with tears now. He might have gone overboard with his insults. He wouldn’t be surprised if he lost his job tomorrow. Especially when he saw the first teardrop fall from your eye. He cradled your cheek with his calloused hand and roughly swiped his thumb over the tear streak. 
“Stop crying.” 
You only sniffled as more tears fell. Toji let out a loud sigh, now engulfing your face with both hands to wipe your tears away. 
“You’re such a brat,” he grumbled under his breath. 
“You’re mean,” you retorted in your wobbly voice. 
Toji looked amused by your response. “What?” He chuckled softly. “I’m mean? Have you heard yourself curse at your employees?”
“Behind their backs though,” you mumbled quietly. You did say some mean things about them. 
Toji scoffed out a laugh. He pushed your face away, causing you to gasp and glare at him. He clicked his tongue. “Good night, brat.”
Upon hearing that sentence, you immediately dropped your tough act as you gaped at him. “You’re leaving?” You sounded like such a kid. 
“Yep.” He was slowly walking backwards now. 
“So you’re not actually going to fuck me?” 
This made Toji stop in his tracks. You just had to say it. Dancing around the issue was not going to get you anywhere. He lifted an eyebrow.
“I only fuck good girls.”
You craved his approval. You perked up and wiped your tears quickly. “I’m a good girl.”
“And I don’t fuck young girls.”
“I’m not that young!” 
“We have at least a 15-year gap between us. You’re plenty young, sweetheart.”
You whined. “So? You hate young, tight pussy?”
Toji squinted at you. He made sure to look you in the eyes as he said, “No. Little girls just can’t take my big, daddy cock.” Your heart slammed against your ribcage and was almost going into overdrive. “You’re not going to be able to handle me, Princess.”
“Try me.”
“Try you?” he repeated in a chuckle. He glanced away as he ran his palm over his mouth. When he looked back at you, his eyes were dark and dangerous. “I’m not going to fuck my boss and ruin her with my cock, Princess.”
You levelled eyes with him. “What if your boss ordered you to fuck her?”
Toji didn’t look away or blink. “Doesn’t work. I want to hear her beg.”
You paused. He was going to degrade you into a begging whore. Knowing that you were too prideful for this, Toji blew air out his nose and smirked. He had thought you were done arguing until you walked forward and hooked a finger on his belt loop. 
“Please, Toji? Fuck me?” He kept staring down at your puppy eyes and your little pout. You slid your hand down to tug on the buckle of his belt. “Please fuck me with your big cock, Daddy,” you mewled. “I’ll be a good girl for you.”
Toji licked his bottom lip as he reached out to cup your face. You tilted your head and nuzzled your cheek into his palm. He lined your bottom lip with his thumb, which only made you slither your tongue out to meet his digit. You gave him a sultry look as your tongue played with his thumb before enclosing your lips around it. You could hear Toji’s low groan. 
You reached your other hand out to start unbuckling his belt, only for Toji to pull his thumb out of your mouth and engulf your small hands with one of his. You gaped up at him, holding your breath. 
“Brats don’t deserve my cock,” he said slowly and quietly. 
Immediately, you slid your hand out from under his and tipped your toes to be closer to him. It was a very small action but you caught Toji pulling back a little, as if trying to put some distance between you. So you reached up to cradle his nape and try to pull his head closer to you, although he wouldn't budge. 
“I’m sorry!” you apologised, giving him the most desperate look ever. “I won't be a brat to you anymore, I swear!” 
Toji scoffed and turned his head away. “Don’t make me laugh.”
Impatient that he was just brushing you aside, you let go of his nape and stepped up on your couch so that you were facing him again. Toji was glaring up at you now. So you leaned forward and circled your arms around his neck, pressing your face to his cheek. 
“Please,” you whined into his skin. You even gave him whispery kisses in between words as you pleaded, “You’re the only person that I will let dominate me.”
You could feel the tension in his jaw as he clenched down on his teeth. As you continued kissing and licking a trail down his neck, you were aware of Toji going very still. So, in one last attempt, you tried pulling him closer again to whisper in his ear with a hand on the back of his head. 
“Daddy Toji,” you purred in the sultriest voice you could have ever made. 
Almost at once, you yelped and clenched your arms around his neck as Toji’s strong arm wrapped around you and swooped you towards his body. You were suddenly carried like a baby, sitting on Toji’s hip with your legs and arms around his body like a koala bear. You realised belatedly that you were moving, and only then you found out that Toji was walking in the direction of your room. 
The moment he entered your bedroom, Toji threw you on the bed so roughly that your hair was all over your face. You swept it all away just in time to watch the silhouette of him undoing his belt at the foot of your bed. It was dark but you just knew he was staring back at you. Wanting to see the expression on his face, you flipped around and started crawling towards your bedside table to turn on the lamp, only to gasp when a strong hold catches you by the waist and reins you back. 
“Running away, little doll?” You shivered at how rough Toji’s voice sounded next to your ear. With his other hand, he curled your hair behind your ear and moaned into your neck. “You’re not about to turn me on and leave, are you, Princess?”
You shook your head, turning your head slightly so that you could feel the tip of his nose brushing your cheek. “I wanted to turn the light on,” you noticed your quiet voice shaking a little. 
If Toji heard the nervous tremble of your voice, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he easily picked you up and started walking around the bed to reach your bedside table. “Good. Daddy wants to see the look on your face when he fucks you,” he muttered into your ear. He let go of you and landed a big slap on your ass. “Go on, then.”
Twisting your body, you tried to reach for your bedside table. Your arm was a bit too short to touch the lamp, so you pushed your ass out to lean against Toji’s crotch and used his erection to steady yourself as you reached out for the lamp. 
The moment you managed to turn the light on, Toji grabbed your hair close to your scalp and fell forward so that you were laying on the bed beneath him, your ass still glued to his groin, your cheek smushed on your bed, his other hand holding himself up on your bed so his big build doesn’t crush you. Your heart was pitter-pattering at this point. No one had ever had the balls to be so rough with you before. You were incredibly turned on. 
“Mm…” Toji groaned into your ear, the tip of his nose pressing into your hair. “So eager for my cock, huh?” 
You nodded your head almost desperately. “Touch me, Toji.”
The man tugged on your hair. “That’s Daddy Toji to you, little girl.”
“Touch me, Daddy Toji,” you breathed. 
At once, he pushed himself away from you. Your breath was stuck in your chest when he flipped you around roughly and pulled on your legs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed. Toji was a tall man. As you stared up at him, you were once again reminded of how physically huge and tall he was. And suddenly you were getting cold feet. Because he definitely should have a size that would match his physique, and you just knew he was going to be huge. 
You guessed that he saw something on your face because he clicked his tongue and gave you a light smack to the side of your thigh. “Don’t go backing out now, sweetheart. You’re going to take this dick inside of you and you’re going to be having the best time of your life.”
You swallowed and shook your head. Of course. Yes. You could do this, you were mentally hyping yourself up. 
It’s weird because of how tough Toji was normally but he must had seen how scared you looked. You felt his rough hands on your thighs, dragging your dress up as he caressed you. You held your breath as you watched him lean down to nose your stomach, the only thing between you being your silk dress. Your eyes shut and you felt your body relax as he trailed his nose up your chest, leaving kisses in his wake. 
When he got to your neck, he glanced up to see that you had your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes shut in bliss. He wasted no time in dipping his head into the crook of your neck, giving you light bites and open-mouthed kisses. Toji moved around your throat like he was forming an invisible necklace. 
When he got to your other ear, he moaned in a voice lower and way huskier than his ever was, “You’re good, Princess. You’re going to love my cock.”
As if you were in a trance, you immediately nodded your head. And like you were under a spell, you turned your head to meet his lips for the first time ever and you swore that he tasted like everything you needed and wanted. His kiss was somehow so him; he showed dominance yet was careful with you in his kiss, treating you like the princess that you were. 
As your tongues danced, you felt Toji’s hand sliding higher up your thigh where he met your underwear. You weren’t wearing much in order to look good in your dress, and Toji appreciated it with a low moan. He easily slid his thumb under the thin string of fabric. Your lips lost contact with Toji’s as you let out a pitched moan the moment he started sliding the back of his thumb up and down your lips, spreading your wetness everywhere. 
Toji chuckled quietly. “So wet, someone must have waited a long time for this.”
You couldn’t say anything as he continued to tease you like this, letting the sound of your wet lips smacking against his thumb dirty your room. Toji, knowing that you were finally loosening up again, leaned away and this time, pulled on the crotch of your g-string to slide the back of his pointer and middle fingers against your lips instead of his thumb. He did the same motion and when his fingers were wet enough, he bent them so that his knuckles were being dragged up and down your pussy lips. 
The moans and mewls slipping out of your mouth were pornographic. Your hips were moving in tandem with his knuckles, your back was arched in pleasure — these reactions were happening without you even knowing. You couldn’t even hear the unzipping of Toji’s jeans or the clang of his belt buckle when he pulled his briefs down, not when he was rubbing circles on your clit with his knuckles, sending jolts of pleasure to every fiber of your body. You had never felt such euphoria in your life. 
Toji’s voice was nothing but a rasp when he asked, “Where do you keep your condoms?” 
Your brain was still foggy with pleasure from his ministrations that you were unresponsive. You were knocked awake when you felt a smack to your cheek. The slap stung enough to pull you out of your fervor, but light enough not to actually hurt. You blinked and focused on the gruff man towering above you. He’d stopped touching you at this point, not wanting to lose you again. 
“Condoms. Where?” he asked again, this time with more enunciation. 
You swallowed and shook your head. “I don’t keep any.”
Toji was visibly troubled now as he looked to the side. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. 
Slowly, you raised yourself up on your elbows. “What’s wrong?”
He ran his hand through his hair in frustration as he faced you. “I don’t have one on me.”
You sat up now so that you were closer to him. Your voice was airy but sure when you said, “Fuck me raw, Toji.” You could see him staring at you, wondering if this was a prank. So you reached up to grab a fistful of his shirt and pulled him closer so that you could kiss him. Then, you breathed against his lips, “Now, Daddy.”
That was all he needed. 
Toji brought his hand to your neck and pushed you away roughly, causing you to fall back on the mattress, one side of your dress strap falling off your shoulder. You were excited now as you watched him pull your g-string down your legs. Pressing the tip of his cock to your wet lips, he flickered his eyes up to meet yours. You bit down on your bottom lip, moaning as he moved his hips slowly, sliding his length up and down your slit, lubricating his cock with your juices. You were undeniably getting wetter. The sound of your lips kissing and smacking against Toji’s meat was turning the both of you on. You were mewling and he was groaning in pleasure. 
“Fuck,” Toji cursed. He had never enjoyed foreplay this much before. He was sure he was going to nut the moment he entered you. 
Darting his eyes up, Toji found you already watching him with half-lidded eyes, already looking so fucked out. The fact that he had his prideful, arrogant boss in this position just made his insides burn with a kind of desire he never felt before. He wanted to see you like this all the time; under him, being toyed with at his mercy.
Making sure to keep his eyes locked on you, on a downward stroke of his cock, he slyly positioned his tip at your inviting hole so that when he thrusted his hips again, his cockhead would slip through your lips. You let out a painful shriek the moment you felt your pussy widen, trying to fit something unfamiliar and thick. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit down on your lip, your hands now grabbing at Toji’s muscular arms, your nails piercing into his flesh. He slid further into you, giving you a pleasurably painful stretch. 
A whimper slipped past your lips and you felt a hot tear drip down the side of your face. Toji stopped, but he might as well had still been entering you because your head was throbbing and your body was burning up. All you could feel was his huge dick that was barely even inside of you and how tight your pussy was clenching around him. 
Toji brushed his hair away from his face, trying to distract himself from plunging the rest of his length inside of you. The look of pain and pleasure on your face, accompanied with your goddamn sloppy, tight pussy was going to make him sin more than once tonight. But he had to hold himself back. He was not a foolish and rash person, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to be one now. 
“Sweetheart.” Toji’s voice was faraway. He placed his hands on your knees and pushed down on them to bring them closer to your body, successfully getting your attention this time. “You alright?” 
You blinked several times, blankly. He reached forward to stroke your chin, only to accidentally slide another centimetre of his cock into you, causing you to groan and shut your eyes. Toji froze and waited. When you finally had your eyes open, you saw that he was looking worried. 
“Painful?” 
You swallowed and confessed, “A little bit. But it’s okay. You’re just the biggest I’ve had.”
Toji hummed and stroked the side of your thigh. “And you’re about the tightest pussy I’ve ever had.”
You giggled breathlessly and relaxed yourself, trying to get your walls to unclench around him. Toji leaned back a little, staring down at where barely even half his cock was buried in your pussy. He could feel you pulsing around his cockhead, trying to will yourself to loosen up. So to help you, he started churning his saliva in his mouth. He dropped his head and spat directly on your clit, the warm fluid coating your engorged bud. Using it as lubrication, Toji stroked your spit-covered clit with his thumb almost in a gentle caress. 
Your insides fluttered at his ministrations. Inch by inch, he slid slowly inside of you, distracting you with the swirling of his thumb on your sensitive pearl, easing the pain of his thick girth widening your tight pussy. He suppressed a groan, actually enjoying your mewls and whines that he just wanted to be quiet to hear them. But you felt so tight and warm that Toji cannot help but moan when he was completely sheathed inside of you. 
The image of his mouthy, ill-tempered boss at the mercy of his cock, paired with your wet and tight pussy around him, Toji had to take a moment to breathe. He didn’t want to cum yet. He couldn’t. He wanted to enjoy this while it lasted. He might actually be fired tomorrow, so he needed to make the most out of this. 
Blowing out a big breath, Toji steadied himself. He looked down at you, your face still contorted in pain and pleasure. With his hands on your knees, he spread your legs apart. He started thrusting slowly, waking you up from your daze. His pace quickly sped up until he had your tits bouncing so hard that they were out of your dress. He watched you arch your back and grab a fistful of your duvet, trying to futilely ground yourself. But he was going so fast, and so hard. You were breathless and almost seeing stars. 
Toji felt your pussy clamping up when he smacked the side of your thigh. He groaned. “You like being treated like a whore, huh?” You whined, unable to say anything as he continued rutting his hips into you. “You like being put down and degraded like the stupid little bitch you are.”
You were blabbering incoherent words now and it made Toji chuckle. He reached forward and slapped your cheek. 
“Feels good, huh?” You could only nod as you gazed up at him with half-lidded eyes. He landed another slap on your cheek, eliciting a loud mewl from you. Toji groaned. “Fuck. I could fuck you all night, baby.”
You reached up to hold his wrist, placing his hand on your neck. “Choke me, Daddy,” you plead. 
“Shit.”
Toji was incredibly turned on. To have you begging and asking to be choked, his cock felt like it was going to explode. Wrapping his fingers around your neck, you tightened your hold on his wrist. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he continued to fuck you while suppressing oxygen flow to your brain. The pleasure was so good. Toji could feel your pussy clenching on his cock at longer intervals, signalling how close you are to climaxing. 
Releasing his grip on your throat, Toji grunts, “You’re going to cum, aren’t you, Princess?” 
You could only nod your head in a daze. Toji’s stamina was incredible. He kept fucking you hard and fast, not slowing down once, just building up your climax higher and higher. 
“Good. Make some pretty noises for Daddy when you cum,” Toji cooed. 
Tightening his grip on your airway again, he sped up his fucking once again. Each time he entered you was a resounding wet slap of his hips against yours. You felt a knot forming in your stomach when Toji touched your clit, rubbing the pearl up and down like it was a joystick of a video game controller. Toji let go of your throat just as you were about to see white. 
You were a mess under him, moaning and whining like the needy little girl you were. You felt a heady pleasure when his palm struck your cheek, then the back of his fingers caressing the assaulted flesh like he regretted that decision, only to receive another slap to your face. 
Toji was relentless. He could watch you all day, just being degraded by him, thrashing about from the pleasure. But this was riling him up too. He was so close. And judging by your frequent moans and the fluttering of your pussy walls, he knew you were close too. Toji wanted to please you first but he knew that he couldn’t fuck you any longer or he would cum before you did. So he stopped his fucking and stayed buried inside of you. Now, he used his thumb to pull the flesh of your crotch upwards, exposing your clit. With his other hand, he rubbed harshly on the sensitive button, at the same time sheathing in and out of your pussy at a steady pace. 
“Oh, fuck!” you screamed, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you could only hear ringing and see white. 
Toji groaned, quickly pulling out of you. Still rubbing your clit to prolong your orgasm, he stroked his cock as he watch you wreath and cry out, your body spasming at the waves of pleasure crashing down on you. 
“Fuck,” Toji cursed under his breath as he stopped abusing your clit to focus on his own pleasure. 
His hand slid up and down his length faster now. And the moment he noticed a glistening trickle spilling out of your cunt, he let out another string of curses. He brought his cock to your clit as he came on your pussy, his white cum soaking your sex even more. You mewled at how warm the fluid was, feeling it drip along your lips. 
The room was now filled with pants and heavy breathing as you calmed down from your high. It took him a while but Toji was the first to move as he let out a deep breath and took a step back. You fluttered your eyes open to see him staring down at you, at his masterpiece, all fucked out and spent. 
Without a word, he turned away and walked off in the direction of your bathroom. You were surprised to hear the water running. After a few seconds, Toji came back and wordlessly scooped you up in his arms, bringing you to the toilet. He set you on your feet and took your dress off of you before pulling the shower door open and nudging you in. 
You were a bit uncomfortable at his silent treatment, wondering if this had made things awkward, especially when he left the bathroom to leave you to wash up. Wanting to talk to him before he left, you took a quick shower and left your bathroom without even drying yourself. You found him still in your room, sitting on the edge of the bed respectfully. He glanced up when he noticed your presence. He raised an eyebrow at your hastiness. 
“You’ll still be my bodyguard, right?” you murmured softly.
Toji hummed and stood up. “For as long as you keep me around.”
You nodded. The both of you just stared at each other, a bit awkward now that the sexual tension had been dealt with. “Are you going to stay?”
He shook his head. “Probably not a good idea. I’ll just see you on Monday.”
You nodded your head. You didn’t want to seem too needy. He was already starting towards the door when you blurted out, “Do you think we could keep doing this?”
Toji stopped in his tracks and faced you. His eyebrows lifted slightly in amusement. “What? Fucking?” 
You couldn't help the blush that crept up on you. But your pride and ego were back now that the heat of the moment was over. “Something like that,” you muttered. 
Toji laughed under his breath. “We’ll see. I only fuck good girls, remember.”
“Toji—!” 
He interrupted your whining with another quiet chuckle. You were starting to think you liked hearing his laugh. 
“Good night, Princess.”
Main story🔞>>
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© chocochipsushi 2023 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise
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cookinguptales · 1 year
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Can I ask you to do a post about Disney & disability please? You mentioned it and I’d love to know more!
Well, my notifications can't get any messier, so why not?
This post got very, very long because I ended up talking about a lot of the accessibility solutions in detail (and... ranting about how accessibility at Universal was so bad that I got physically injured there) so I'm putting it under a cut for you.
To preface this, I have mobility issues (as well as a lot of food intolerances/allergies) and general chronic illness, my sister is Deaf, and I have friends who regularly attend the park with autistic family members with high support needs. These are the disabilities I have experience with, so while I've heard a bit about others (such as portable descriptive devices for visitors with visual impairments) I can't speak as much about those accommodations.
I have also traveled quite a bit, mostly as a disabled adult. I can work from anywhere and my family enjoys traveling, so I've been very lucky in this regard. I also used to live in central Florida, not too far from Disney, and benefited from their FL resident rates.
So I'm coming at this from a person who has a lot of experience traveling while disabled and a fair amount of experience going to WDW, though I haven't been nearly as often since I moved out of Florida.
(Good fucking riddance.)
So know that I am speaking from experience when I say I have never, without exception, been to a single place half as accessible as Walt Disney World. It is literally the reason my family would go there; it was one of the only places we could all safely go together. One of the only places I've been on earth that even approached their level of thoughtful accommodations is Barcelona, which apparently did significant renovations throughout the city in order to prepare for the 1992 Paralympics.
(Hey, if anyone is reading this from Barcelona: I teared up the first time I used one of your curb cuts in my wheelchair, just so you know.)
Going through those parks in a wheelchair is a breeze, though you will probably have to fight a lot of clueless parents with strollers who are hellbent on using resources intended for wheelchair-users and then glaring at you when you try to use them yourself. Level ground, spacious sidewalks, accessible transportation, well-kept gradual ramps, roomy buildings, lots of accessible restrooms, alternate entrances at many rides for wheelchair users, special wheelchair rows in movie theaters that we're loaded into first, accessible queues in most rides designed or renovated in the last fifteen years, special viewing areas for shows/parades/fireworks so you don't end up staring at able-bodied butts for a half hour...
Like, structurally-speaking, the parks are very easy to get around in if you're a wheelchair user. That was built in and you can see a lot of very mindful design choices. As far as the rides go, most of their rides actually have special cars that you can load into while still in a wheelchair. They're pretty neat. I can transfer, but that means often leaving my wheelchair and/or cane with a cast member during the ride. They are always, without fail, waiting for me on the other side of the ride, no matter how far the exit is from the entrance. I have never once had a problem with this. A cast member will be there to put my assistive devices in my hand before I even have to think about getting up. Guaranteed.
Wheelchair users always used to be able to skip the line, but there was unfortunately a problem with able-bodied people pretending to be disabled to skip lines (because god forbid they not have access to a single thing we have to make our lives livable) so now there's a system where if you cannot wait in a line, they'll basically give you a special time to come back that's equivalent to the length of the line. Which feels fair to me as someone who often cannot be in even an accessible line for extended periods. (I have problems with sunlight, heat, and often need emergency food or restroom.)
More important than all this, though, is the fact that cast members are impeccably well-trained in all of this. Any disabled person can tell you that the most accessible design on earth isn't worth shit if the people working there aren't well-trained. (More on this later, when I take a giant shit on Universal Studios.) But Disney trains their employees, many of whom are disabled themselves, incredibly well.
Every employee will know where the accessible entrances are. Every employee will know the procedure for getting a return time. Every employee will know about first-aid centers, and every employee will know where the quiet areas are for people with sensory issues. Every time you make a reservation for a meal, hotel room, transportation, etc. they will ask for all accessibility needs and they'll be ready for you.
Every waiter you have will be incredibly careful and knowledgeable when it comes to special dietary needs, and chefs will often come out to discuss them with you. They often have specific menus for different dietary needs, and they are scrupulous when it comes to allergens. I have a few intolerances that suck and allergies that could kill me and I have always felt very safe in their hands. This ranges from fancy sit-down restaurants to quick service burger places.
And -- honestly, I have just always been treated with respect. I know that sounds like a low bar, but most people do fail to clear it. Disney has their employees very well-trained on how to interact with disabled guests. People speak directly to me, never to the able-bodied people over my head. They never treat me like I'm a child. They never ask invasive questions or make uncomfortable jokes. They never, ever get impatient with my accessibility needs.
The few times I have misjudged things and have injured myself or gotten extremely ill, they were professional and caring as they provided much-needed first-aid. It's kind of embarrassing to be doted on by a costumed character while you wait for a doctor to come help you sit up again, but also kind of endearing, I'll admit.
They also, in addition to captioning all videos in the park, have some of the best sign language interpreters in the world, bar none. They're very personal and professional, they're easy to reserve, they will always be in a visible place during shows, and they're incredible performers as well as being very technically proficient. In addition to the professional interpreters, many cast members, performers, and characters can sign as well.
In addition to that, and this brings me to my next point, you'll meet a lot of disabled employees throughout the park. In front-facing positions. Deaf employees, employees using mobility aids, etc. They're well-known to hire disabled people and treat them well. This is. Fuck, this is incredibly rare, I say as someone who was never able to find a job in Florida with my health conditions. It's the moral thing to do to hire disabled people, but also -- selfishly, there's something so heartening and normalizing about seeing people who look like you working at the park. I'm happy every single time.
I have a little less personal experience when it comes to accessibility for neurodivergence, despite being neurodivergent myself, but I've been told that Disney is very, very accommodating for people on the spectrum. A lot is done to lessen crowding, waiting, sensory overload, etc. for autistic guests. Cast members are usually super good at this; finding designated quiet areas, helping autistic guests avoid more crowded areas, keeping them out of long lines, making sure they have access to any particular experiences that are special to them, etc.
For folks who need help from their group, whether that's an autistic child who needs to be with a parent or a disabled adult who needs someone to push their wheelchair or anything else, Disney has a rider switch-off model. In other words, if you're there with both of your able-bodied parents, for example, and you need one of them to be with you at all times and you don't want to be on the ride yourself, Disney will allow one person to go on the ride while the other waits for them to finish, then will allow the second person to go on without any additional wait. This makes sure that everyone in the family gets equal access without leaving disabled people alone. (Which... can be a very shitty feeling, I assure you.)
I know that Disney has also pioneered a lot of assistive technology. The accessible rides, obviously, which can be ridiculously cool (like Toy Story Midway Mania has an accessible car with alternative "guns" for people with dexterity limitations so they can play the carnival games as well) but also handheld assistive devices for visually impaired guests, etc. Like they are literally inventing new forms of accessibility technology, which is so cool.
And honestly, I'm always learning about new ways they assist disabled guests. I've stayed in Disney's accessible hotel rooms before (they're very nice!) but I don't like to swim so I've never been in the pools. But even just this week, someone told me that Disney has pool lifts for disabled guests, which I had never even considered. That's so cool.
The best part about accessibility at Disney is that in some ways it's very casual. A lot of their design decisions are so intuitive that you never even notice how accessible the parks are until you go somewhere where that's... not the case.
Like -- just so you don't assume that any of these things are industry standard, let me tell you about the two times I went to Universal, a park very close to Disney. I went there once for an event and once with my family.
The first time I went was for an event at the opening of the Harry Potter park. (This was before JKR made her most appalling views public, to be clear.) It... was frustrating. Guests asked if there would be food and drink available for people with special dietary restrictions (such as sugar-free butterbeer) and were pretty much told that no, that was not something they were interested in pursuing. It became very obvious very quickly that the park itself was so narrow that it only barely fulfilled ADA standards -- when empty. We were told that JKR had actually specifically insisted that it feel "cramped". Which is a nice way to say that I couldn't actually get around in any of the stores while people were in them.
It was overall a frustrating experience, but it was like. One night. I figured it was probably a fluke and they were still ironing out all the details. So I ended up going back with my parents later.
Y'all, it was a shit show.
Broken elevators that prevented disabled guests from accessing rides. Performers being up on raised platforms/sidewalks so disabled guests couldn't get to them. Sidewalks being made inaccessible by putting movable signs directly in the middle of them. Stores (even outside of the HP part) that were so damn narrow that I actually ended up getting hurt trying to navigate one of them. And no -- it was not easy to get first aid.
And my god, was the training bad. We went to one of the new HP rides, asked if there was a specific entrance for disabled guests. We were told no. We waited for a very long time in a line that honestly I shouldn't have been waiting in, but I wanted to be a good sport. I was pretty sick by the time we got through it, and the line itself had some very dangerous inclines/turns for wheelchair users. We get to the front of the line -- and the employee asks why we didn't just use the accessible entrance. 🙃
(Side note: several of their rides are also just unrideable if you don't fit within a pretty narrow body type of thin and able-bodied, so... there's that.)
We'd asked repeatedly and gotten incorrect answers, and I'd been put in physical danger as a result. Wild. I started to notice that if you asked different employees, you'd get different answers about almost anything, really. Just exceptionally poor training. Even stuff that should've been a no-brainer, like loading wheelchair users into a stationary movie theater, ended up creating chaos when they did it incorrectly and we had a giant wheelchair pileup.
Like -- let me stress to you that many of the things that happened could have caused actual injury to people. Some of these situations were dangerous. And some of them were just alienating, like when I'd have to wait outside a store while my family could go in.
I never went back after that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ We just kept going to Disney.
One thing that'll probably show how good Disney is at accessibility is the whole Make-A-Wish thing. A lot of people know that it's a popular Make-A-Wish request, and you're likely to see at least a couple kids with Make-A-Wish buttons during your visit if you keep an eye out. One reason for this, is that, y'know, Disney World is fun. Kids want to go there. But more important, I think, is that Disney can accommodate people with at-times severe medical needs. Those kids can safely go anywhere and do anything in those parks that able-bodied kids can, and that's important.
All in all, the parks are just so accessible and you will never, ever be made to feel like you're lesser for needing those accommodations. You will be treated so well and you will not have to worry about accessibility because the cast members are always doing it for you. They'll usher you into the correct entrance as soon as they see a mobility device, and they'll do it with a very warm welcome. It's one of the very few places on earth where I have never felt like a burden.
Again, y'know, I know that Disney does not have a perfect track record on a lot of issues. I would never defend them from rightfully earned criticism. I strongly support labor action against them, and I do think they should be criticized whenever they fuck up. I have been uncomfortable with the sheer amount of power they have both in Florida and in the entertainment world just because no one should have that much power. But I am far more uncomfortable with that power being stripped away for blatantly discriminatory political reasons.
I do have some loyalty to Disney just because there is no other place on earth where I've been able to safely have fun with my friends with so little agony. That's... I mean, it's important, really. To be able to just exist in public without getting grief for it. And I have some loyalty to them because they were a safe space for me as a young, queer kid who was not safe being out in other areas of my life.
(Like, I am talking about actual literal safety. I kept seeing notes on my post saying that Disney didn't care about creating a "safe space for queer people" but as someone who lived in Florida for the entirety of my teenage years? It was the safest goddamn place there.)
I do not have enough loyalty to defend them when they do immoral bullshit, but I do have enough to make sure that people know the good that they do as well.
I want other businesses to follow Disney's model for disability. I will praise them forever for what they've done in that regard because if I don't, there's no reason for other companies to follow suit. I want to praise them for the good things they've done so they have incentive to keep doing it, and other companies have an incentive to do it as well.
Like bro, I just wanna be able to move around and be treated with some dignity, y'know? My bar is so low. lmao
But yeah. That's why you always see so many disabled guests at Disney. It's literally the only place some of us can go to have fun.
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nitw · 7 months
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one thing i really like about the fionna and cake series - which also applies to the original episodes but obviously not with as much weight or relevance - is how the au characters aren't all just the same copy-pasted personalities of their ooo counterparts. this also goes for all the other dimensions they visit of course, but i wanna talk about our fionna's world in comparison to our simon's world specifically.
fionna is NOT finn. even though they're around the same age at this point they're different people shaped by different experiences and struggles. they're both sorta absent-minded thrillseekers prone to escapism, but while finn is hyper optimistic and has an innate desire to help/cheer up those around him (even if he doesn't always do it right), fionna seems a bit more reluctant on sympathizing with other people's problems, or at least it doesn't come as naturally to her, and even when she's focused her own goals she doesn't have the same drive. this is clearly a big part of her arc, but it takes a lot to motivate her to put genuine effort into things - even those that matter to her.
similarly, gary is NOT bonnie and marshall is NOT marceline.
like bonnie, gary is a huge nerd and a workaholic with attention to detail, but he's shown to have a lot less confidence in himself. he gets easily crushed by the disappointment of others, it embarrasses him to talk about his dreams and interests, and he's generally not very confrontational - in contrast to bonnie who's not only a monarch with a huge amount of responsibility on her shoulders, but also takes way more pride in her intellect and her work, and isn't afraid of voicing her opinions.
and like marceline, marshall is an extroverted smooth talker who uses art to express himself, and clearly has more baggage than he likes to admit, but i feel like the way he avoids his problems is noticeably different from marceline. while marceline tends to bottle everything up until she explodes (and isn't that good at hiding it), marshall seems more prone to distance himself completely from negative thoughts, as long as he can get away with it. like more of a "this is a problem for another day, i'll just ignore it and focus on what makes me happy right now" attitude. he also just seems to be more patient overall.
it's just really neat! like they've always tried to make the f&c counterparts feel different and fun in their own ways, but now that it's Their Show they obviously have to give even more depth to their identities, and i think it's been doing a great job of making us care about them for who they are.
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moonsaver · 15 days
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hiyaaa! its me again!! omg is it just me or is there just NO robin x reader content like, at all???
please please please!! if you don't mind, please give me your robin romantic headcanons?
an extra add on food for thought: what do you think would happen if both siblings happen to pine after the same person?
Hello dear inbox visitor! I think it would be better if you sent it during while requests were open, since it kind of teeters on the line between thoughts vs requests haha. Anyways, you're right. We dont have enough x robin content :(
Lets try and fix it!
Robin seems like a very attentive lover, which is surprising considering how busy she would be since she's a popstar.
During conversations or small talk, passing phrases, she makes sure to listen to you lovingly,and makes note of all the small things about you.
To me, I think she'd be the type of person who puts your name as just a pink heart icon, and notes down all the things you like in the description of your contact. She also has a separate notes tab for other things like your wishlist items, things she's noticed about you, and so on.
She's optimistic, but not unrealistic. If you're the overthinker type, she grounds you flawlessly. She's very rational and sorts things out carefully with you, sitting you down gently and discusses everything on your mind with you. Gives you a lovely, soft smile when you stop overthinking and come to a solution with a relaxed sigh.
Surprisingly sensitive to physical contact. She's not touch-starved, nor averse to it, but still is unused to it for the most part. However, she likes holding hands very often. She'd be very happy if you rubbed your thumb over her knuckles. Often takes off her glove just to hold your hand. I feel like her hands would be pleasantly cold. She squeaks slightly when you kiss her face! Then giggles. She likes the feeling of you peppering her face in kisses.
Lets you touch her wings often, and they are incredibly soft. They smell pleasantly of flowers, and sometimes she flutters them on your face to make you giggle. She doesn't mind if you mess them up a bit, as long as it's not before a concert.
If you have hair long enough to braid, she'll want to do that. She has cute little accessories on her that she uses whenever you let her, cute clips and hair ties that she uses for you specifically. She also really likes it when you braid her hair. She doesn't care if it's not pretty, she just likes that you're the one doing it.
Often, I imagine she gets overwhelmed with the amount of people working on her appearances that sometimes she just asks them to leave and has you help her work on her appearance. It could just be feedback and she'll appreciate it. She just likes being in your presence whenever she's overwhelmed, which can be often if she's especially out on a tour. If you can't be there physically, she'll want to call you, or replay any voice notes you may have sent previously. She saves them all – date, time, named and even the context behind them. She misses you dearly whenever she's away, just doesn't have the time to even express it.
If you're alright with cosmetics of all kinds, she's a little thrilled. She'll want you to try her perfumes and clothes, too. Kisses you directly if you ask for her lip balm or lipgloss, then giggles at the transferred sheen. Likes trying out new eye palette colors on you, trying out new styles of makeup, and often asks for suggestion on her own outfits. She also adores when you both dress up in matching outfits, and has a neat little album of you two consisting of photos that she takes.
Robin can feel a bit shy asking for affection or doing cute couple-things. She really likes the corny things, like indirect kisses from shared straws, being stared at while she's doing something, being kissed in the rain, dancing together, etc.. she also probably saw you eat a lollipop once, and wanted to ask you for a taste, but got too shy and didn't ask. You have to take the initiative and comfort her into asking for these things.
Anyways, if both siblings pine for the same person.. it's gonna be a little strained. Depends on how much they like the reader respectively, but lets assume both of them are head over heels for reader.
Robin and Sunday pining after the same person may either bring them together or put more strain on their already, slightly distant relationship. I feel like Sunday may either support his sister, convince her to pursue you and share you with him, or guilt trip her into not approaching you. Not even as a yandere, Sunday can be a little manipulative and greedy when it comes to his feelings. Ever since Robin left Sunday alone as the head of the Oak Family, I feel like he would harbor a small amount of apathy or even dislike towards her because of it, and on top of that, if she ends up liking you, he'll feel oddly like you've been stolen from him.
Robin.. won't back off so easily however. She's a smart girl, and even if she obliges to her brother's whims, she knows him better than anyone else. She'll probably stay docile for the most part, though. However, she isn't just a pretty face. Just because she remains docile doesn't mean she's given you up completely to her brother. She'll at least remain stubborn on having you to some degree, even if it means straining their relationship a bit.
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maryrouille · 4 days
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Toxic romanticization of studying
In a word of introduction, my profile partly shows that studying and exploring is wonderful. But as a person involved in science*, I would like to show healthy and true patterns of this beautiful adventure in acquiring knowledge.
The inspiration for writing this post this time was not the phenomenon from Tumblr (although you can also observe it here), but from Pinterest. There you can come across cycles composed of quotes and photos whose aim is to motivate young girls to learn, succeed and get good grades. These images often also show examples of characters from movies, TV series or real life that you can aspire to be like. Overall, I have to agree that it really works! But I would like to draw attention to certain elements that need to be verified.
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1. You shouldn't get up at 5am
First of all, the correct amount of sleep is one of the most important factors affecting the proper and effective functioning of our brain. During sleep, nerve cells regenerate, organize information acquired during the day and consolidate memory traces, which is directly related to learning. Lack of sleep increases impulsivity, deepens negative thinking and slows down the body's reaction time!
2. You can be a genius without good grades
Of course, good grades are a pleasant confirmation of our knowledge and praise for hard work. However, sometimes it is worth considering whether the structure of exams themselves, especially those with closed questions, affects the results. We often study for one specific exam, the knowledge of which may be very… limited and sometimes not useful, so it is worth prioritizing the topics that we study hard.
3. It's not cool to think you're better than others
We are different and have different priorities in life. It is also worth considering how many people escape from the rat race and start a slow, stress-free life. So we have to agree that judging people based on grades or responses under stress (sic!) is not cool.
The good thing about romanticizing studying
As I have already said, these types of collages are really motivating. So let's talk about what's great about them and what's worth highlighting and saving for later.
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1. Knowledge is beautiful, but your outfit and surroundings can also be
We know that we should never judge a book by its cover, but… the issue of social perception painfully confirms that we do and will continue to do so because this is how our brains work. And isn't it nice when someone looks at us and thinks this girl is so classy?
Moreover, a nice outfit that makes us feel good gives us a lot of self-confidence. There are also many studies confirming the positive impact on motivation and concentration of a neat and aesthetic workplace.
2. Not just cramming, but also discovering
Broadening your horizons is easier with passion and real commitment. And to achieve this, the topics must really interest us. Not everyone has yet found something that they are extremely passionate about in science, so that is why you have to dig deeper and discover different areas.
3. Don't be afraid to use your knowledge in practice
Schools and universities, unfortunately, have their own rules and they do not always allow you to show your 100% potential. Thus, share your knowledge with others externally, write essays, blog and social media. This form of activity also makes you learn things faster and easier. In addition, contacts with others will expand your knowledge.
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Therefore, I must say that it is worth choosing your inspirations carefully. Nothing helps you enjoy studying better than a clear head and lack of prejudices.
*This post was inspired by my own experience with studying. If anyone is interested, I think I can share my mistakes that did not help me in an academic adventure :)
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user2772636 · 3 months
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Douzième Fille
12th girl
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Transferring schools after moving places for the 6th time, a new opportunity is given; a school for both boys and girls. With a new experience to be dealt with, will you survive a blooming rivalry with one of your classmates, a socialising society, and freshman year? Welcome to Voltaire High.
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Joseph Descamps x Reader
Warnings: Teen boys being teen boys (ykwim), swearing, violence
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Chapter one: Mary Jane's
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I polish my newly bought Mary Jane's, the last on my to-do list before heading to my new school. After I put them on, I get up to go in front of the mirror and fix my hair. I sigh deeply.
A new school, I think to myself. Again.
I grab my satchel and coat, put both on, and make my way outside.
I recently moved here, coming from Paris. I felt disappointed when we moved, feeling a part of me still in that city, but I knew I shouldn't feel that way. I should've expected it. It's now the sixth time we've moved places.
I live in a flat now with my parents and my cat, George, named after the member of The Beatles. My parents are both always at work, leaving me, most of the time, home alone.
I trip on a crack on the sidewalk, making me fall forward and almost hit a girl. She looks my age, has braided blonde hair and fluffy bangs. She just came out of the butcher's with a man. The man is very handsome, tall, neat, wearing a nicely tailored suit. He has a serious expression on his face.
He only glances at me before turning and ushering the blonde girl to follow him. She looks at me for a while more before turning and following the man.
I compose myself, feeling flustered, and I quickly brush it off. I continue to walk. In front of me, I noticed the two people I saw only a few seconds ago. The man walks off, and the girl stands still in her place. I purse my lips, wondering if I should come up to her. I did.
"Is that your father? He seems strict, but I'm only basing off my experience." I say as I stand next to her. She looks at me, a bit surprised. I wouldn't blame her.
"No. He's my brother. He's strict, yes. And it's very annoying." She furrows her brows a bit and groans. I chuckle.
"I'm Y/N. Where are you headed?" I put my hand out for her to shake.
"I'm Michèle. I'm headed to school, actually." She shakes my hand and smiles.
"Oh? Which school? I might be going to the same one."
"Voltaire. I hope you are. Otherwise, I'd be walking in, not knowing anyone but my brother." She cringes at the thought. I chuckle again. She's funny.
"Good thing I'm going there, too. Let's get going, yes? We don't want to draw any more attention." I tilt my head to the direction of the school. She nods.
I lead the way, her following only a few steps behind. The gates are wide open, and my stomach drops. First day of school jitters. The worst feeling ever. And there's boys everywhere. My stomach drops further.
I slow down my pace to be walking next to Michèle. My anxiety radiates off of me, and with my suddenly hightened senses, I feel Michèle's anxiety, too.
We walk past the gates, and all eyes are on us. My spine feels shivers. It's suddenly quiet. I keep my head held high to not give off an awkward stance. Michèle does the opposite.
Every step we take feels slower than usual. I hear whispers around the campus.
'There they are', 'She's pretty', 'Go talk to her!', 'They do have tits', 'Nice ass', 'They're not supposed to be here'.
My ear twitches, but I don't show a reaction on my face. I notice three boys on the bench, but one catches my eye.
He has sandy hair, wire framed glasses, and is sitting with both arms on the back of the backrest. Before I looked away, I saw a faint smirk on his lips.
We head to the board for our assigned rooms. Me and Michèle sigh in relief as we see our names listed to the same teacher.
I feel movement behind me, but before I could turn, a girl pops up next to us. She had short bobbed hair with a blue clip, bright eyes, and a wide smile.
"There aren't even twenty of us." She states. I smile softly. I hear Michèle sigh in joy.
"We thought we were the only girls." She points to the both of us, and I nod along.
"I waited for both of you to come in." A small laugh comes out from all of us. "I'm Simone."
"Michèle." She responds. They wait for me to respond.
"Y/N." I say, and Simone's face lights up. We pause for a while until Simone cuts the silence off.
"It feels like everyone's staring." She says worriedly but still with a smile on her face.
"They are." Me and Michèle say. The girls continue to talk as I look behind me again and see the sandy haired boy talking, or what looks like teasing, another boy. I think to myself, a bully. I grimace. I look away before he notices me staring.
"Are you wearing heels?" All of us look down to stare in awe at Michèle's foot wear.
"I didn't take you as a bold girl, Michèle." I joke, scoffing in amusement.
"My mom didn't say anything. Hopefully, the teachers don't say anything, too." We all laugh, nodding.
"Oh, Y/N. Look at yours. They look new." I look down at my Mary Jane's, smiling to myself.
"Yeah, they are. My parents got them as a moving gift." Simone nods, but Michèle looks confused.
"Moving gift?" She asks.
"They're gifts I receive when we move places. It's sort of a token of appreciation for being understanding from my parents." They both nod.
"Have you talked to the other girls?" Simone asks, glancing at them. As we all glanced behind, I noticed the boy that was being teased walk to our direction.
"Three were in my electives class, but we're not friends." I transfer my eyes to the group of girls. We look back at each other. Michèle looks to Simone. "Did you go to a Catholic school?"
"No, I was from Algiers. I got here a month ago. I don't know anyone." Simone smiles innocently. Their gazes shift to me. "What about you, Y/N? Are you old or new?"
"I'm new. I moved from Paris." I smile a bit sadly.
"Wow, Paris? I've always wanted to see the tower. Is it bigger than they say?" They start to ask me questions, and I answer happily. I cut them off once the boy I noticed walks closer.
"There's a boy coming. Stand still." They quickly shut up and look back at the board. I hold in a laugh.
"Oh no." The boy says, disappointed.
"Something wrong?" Michèle asks, curious by the boys' exclamation.
"My homeroom teacher is Bluebeard." He responds, now looking at us.
Me, Michèle, and Simone look at each other, confused.
Just then, a new girl walks in. She's wearing a blue dress and headband, her blonde hair swaying in the wind. She sticks out like a diamond in the rough. Boys exclaim, making the same comments they did when me and Michèle walked in, but more vulgar. Distaste has masked my face.
"Do you know her?" God bless Michèle's innocent soul. The boy shakes his head.
The bell rings, and I hear a series of groans. I sigh. The day has officially started.
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I make the lecture fade out of my ears, staring at the stage with no thought in my head. I feel a stare on my left
I turn my head and am met with eyes staring dead straight into mine. The glasses cover the way he'slooking at me, so i can't read how he's feeling, but his eyes are dark and hooded.
I look away slowly, a bit creeped out.
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I stare out the window, watching the trees sway in the breeze and the birds chirp, flapping their wings.
I snap back to reality when Ms. Giraud changes the seating arrangement of the boy we talked to earlier.
The boy with the sandy hair whispers something to him and makes him trip. The class laughs. I stare quietly and think, what an asshole.
"And you, girl with the Mary Jane's. What's your name?" Ms. Giraud says, but it feels like she's screaming. I stand up.
"Y/N Pardine." I respond. I feel the class's eyes on me. A certain pair of glasses covered ones make me shiver.
"Ms. Pardine, what's outside the window that's caught your attention?" I stare at her, a bit annoyed.
"Nothing, Ms. Giraud. I'm sorry I got distracted." There's a voice in my head saying fuck you.
She nods. Thank god. "Sit down. See class? That's how you should respond to your teacher." The lecture fades again as I stare off into space at my desk.
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I learned a few names after class. First, the blue dress girls' name is Annick, then the boy who always gets teased is Pichon, and last and very much the least, Joseph Descamps, the boy with the sandy hair.
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As we walk to our next class, someone bumps into my shoulder harshly. I look in front of me and see Descamps running with his friends. A teacher shouts something like 'no running in the halls'. I glare at his back, and he turns around, and he's smiling. Maybe it was because he was laughing, or maybe he was smiling at me. I stick to the first one and glare harder.
××《☆》××
We sit with the same arrangement as the last class. I tap my Mary Jane's on the hardwood floor and admire the way it shines with the sunlight hitting it.
"Excuse me, sir." I hear someone say. I turn my head and see both Descamps and Annick raising their hand.
"Yes?" The teacher asked. Descamps glances at me, and I furrow my brows. He smirks and looks away.
"I think she raised her hand." He states. I breathe out through my nose, a silent laugh. He's smiling again. Is he always this happy?
The teacher gives Annick a side look. Confusion covers my face. Does he think the girls aren't supposed to be here, too?
He lets her talk, and she does. She explains the meaning of the words written on the board. I look at her, impressed. She's pretty and smart. Good for her.
I see Michèle look to her left. I look, too. The boys pass notes and whisper incoherently. I keep a close eye on them. They pass the note to one boy, Laubrac, who looks like he doesn't know what to do with it.
"Give me that." The teacher states. "Give it to me."
Laubrac gets up, moving to the front of the classroom. The teacher opens up the note, then looks back at Laubrac.
"You think this is funny?" The teacher holds up the note.
"It wasn't me." Laubrac says in defence, but with a calm tone.
"Who is responsible for this masterpiece?" The teacher waves the paper in the air.
I turn my head back to the boys in the back. Descamps is chewing on the tip of his pen, acting like he doesn't know anything. His blinks under his glasses, and I squint. His hazel eyes connect with mine, and I look away swiftly.
"Your name?" The teacher asks as he folds the note.
"It wasn't me." Laubrac states again.
"'It wasn't me'. All culprits have the same name. They must be related. Okay, Mr. It wasn't me-"
"Laubrac. My name is Laubrac."
The teacher pauses. "Alright, Laubrac. Are you the boy from foster care? A nobody's son trying to graduate? How amusing." Gasps are heard.
"Didn't anyone teach you discipline in the care system?" He didn't wait for Laubrac to respond. "I won't let a bastard like you disrupt my class. Get out."
"But he didn't do anything." Michèle gets up from her seat to exclaim. I stare at her in shock.
"Nobody taught you how to raise your hand in your all girls' school, Ms. Magnan? Or maybe you think you have a free pass because your uncle is the dean." This teacher is getting on my nerves. I glance at him with squinted eyes.
"Escort your new friend to your uncle's office. He'll give you detention, too." He points to the door. Michèle and Laubrac start walking. I stare at her worriedly. I lean over the desk to talk to Simone.
"Is she gonna be okay?" I ask her. She turns to look at me with creased eyebrows.
"I think so. Her uncle's the dean, after all." I nod and sit back down.
I glance behind me and catch framed hazel eyes staring. He looks away quickly. I stare back to the front.
××《☆》××
Me and Michèle are walking outside when we hear a man call out her name. Before we could turn, he grabs her arm and leads her to the side of the building. I stood in my place, waiting for her instead of going with when I noticed it was just her brother. I walk to lean against the building, gathering my surroundings. I hear pebbles being stepped on and think nothing of it, assuming it was Simone. It wasn't.
"Good morning." I turn my head, smiling, then drop it when I'm met with a chest. I tilt my head upward, and the sunlight hits my eyes. There's a smile on his face still.
"Why are you alone? Where's your friend?" Descamps interrogates. I stare blankly.
"It doesn't matter to you." I turn my head again. I feel him adjust, putting an arm against the wall of the building.
"I know it shouldn't. But seeing a pretty girl like you all alone worries me. I can't let the other boys get to you before I could." He lowers his voice, dropping his head to reach my height.
I look back up at him. I raise my eyebrows. "How many girls have you used that on?"
He laughs. He's laughing. Why is he laughing?
"You're witty. I like that." I roll my eyes at his words. I notice Michèle in the middle of the grounds with Simone, and I sigh in relief. I walk away from Descamps and sprint to them, trying to keep myself composed.
As I get to them, Simone is running towards the bathroom. I catch my breath and shout.
"Simone, that's not-" Simone squeals as she runs back to us. She's laughing. I smile widely, amused.
"It was the boys' bathroom. I just saw-" We start walking but stop as a boy calls out 'What was that!?'.
"Sorry!" Simone repeats, and we all laugh.
××《☆》××
We all sit and talk in the lunch hall. I look out the window, barely touching my food.
Loud clattering catches my attention. I turn my head and see Pichon's hands in Annick's food. I grimace. There are boys laughing in the background. Pichon says a quick sorry to Annick and walks away, clearly embarrassed. Someone asks Annick if she wants a new plate.
"That idiot should give her his." Michèle says, partially mad. I glance to the boy, and it's Descamps. Of course it is. A series of ooh's are heard in the room. Descamps glances at me, then puts his eyes on Michèle again.
"Does the dean's niece have a problem?" He puts his arm on the backrest of his seat, and the other arm leaning on the table. "What did you tell your uncle? 'Laubrac is innocent. Descamps is the bad one'. The dean's niece and the bastard. A new love story." The hall laughs. I glare at him.
"Why don't you tell us what you wrote on that note?" Michèle bites back.
"It was a drawing. I'll show you." Descamps says calmly. He grabs a bottle and starts drawing on his scrambled eggs. I furrow my brows, already knowing what was gonna happen.
"It's a portrait." He holds up his plate, and his eggs now display a woman's bare chest. I scrunch my nose in digust. The hall laughs yet again. Words come piling out my mouth before I know it.
"It's too bad you'll only ever see them in pictures, not in real life. Women would never fawn over that small dick of yours." I say, and the hall erupts with impressed sounds. He raises his eyebrows. Simone holds up a sausage.
"Does this remind you of anything?" She grabs the other end of the sausage and breaks it in half. I laugh. The hall ooh's again. They start banging on the tables, and it catches a teachers attention.
Descamps glances back at us and glares at Michèle. His eyes travel to mine, and a spark of mischief flashes in his framed eyes. My brows crease.
××《☆》××
The bell rings, and students walk into their classrooms. Me, Michèle, and Simone are walking to our class.
I stare out the windows, seeing the busy streets of the afternoon. The girls are talking about a man named 'Alain Delon' when Michèle opens the door and a tub of water drops on her. I gasp.
The boys are laughing. I look at Michèle in worry. I tried to look for something to cover her up, but our teacher came first. She looks at Michèle, then looks at the room full of boys. She gets rid of her coat and tells someone to keep an eye on the class.
I walk inside, standing in shock near my table at the back at what happened. When I came back to my senses, Descamps was drawing boobs on the board, saying some things I couldn't hear with my unfocused mind.
Before I could walk over to him and give him a beating, Michèle's brother, Jean Pierre, walks into the classroom and starts punching the boys.
The others try to stop him, but he keeps punching. I stare at the scene, unable to do anything.
Descamps's eyes move from the fight to me, and I see emotions flashing in them. Worry, stress, fear, and regret. His eyes continue to stay on me when he gets punched. I cover my mouth in shock. I run near.
I pick up his glasses, and there's a crack on one of the frames. My heart drops when I hear whimpering.
I turn around and see Descamps on the floor, hand cupping his eye. I hadn't noticed the dean until he was kneeling next to him.
"My eye! I can't see." Tears well up. I feel thundering emotions.
My ears ring, and I blur everything out. I can still hear him whimpering. My eyes travel around his shaking body, my heart is beating out of my chest, and I feel like falling.
"Pardine. Take him to the office and call an ambulance." The dean tells me, and I snap back into reality. I quickly go to Descamps and grab his shoulders, ushering him to stand. There's blood seeping out of his fingers. I try not to sob.
He probably thought I was the nurse because he leans into me and relaxes a bit. I sigh shakily. I rub his back with my palm and guide him to the office.
××《☆》××
The ambulance was called, and he was taken to the hospital. I sit on the stairs, watching the ambulance drive away. I sigh deeply and place my head on my hands. I breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm myself.
Why did I help? He's bullied my classmates, especially Pichon and Michèle. I furrow my eyebrows. Fuck.
××《☆》××
I knock on the door, and I'm granted to come in. I quickly grab my things, ignoring the teachers questions. Michèle and Simone lean over to me. Simone talks first.
"Are you okay?" She asks worriedly. I shake my head no.
"I don't feel well. I think I'm gonna take the rest of the day off." Simone nods, understanding. Michèle looks confused but brushes it off.
"Okay. Get home safe. We'll see you tomorrow?" Michèle asks. I nod.
"Sure. See you tomorrow." I leave the room and head to the dean's office, asking for an excuse slip.
××《☆》××
As I lie on my bed petting George, I recall the events. Meeting the girls, talking to Descamps, Descamps embarrassing Michèle, witnessing Descamps go blind, calling the hospital for him. I sigh again. That boy will be the death of me.
I glance at my Mary Jane's. There's a scratch on it. Only when I got home I realised that Descamps stepped on it when he pushed past me. Fuck him and his face.
I hate him, I say in my head. I hate him and will continue to hate him. Two eyes or not.
××《☆》××
End of- Chapter one: Mary Jane's
Next- Chapter two: My eye only
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End of Chapter one, i really hope you guys liked it. It's my first time writing in a long while. When I watched Mixte, i was obsessed with joseph and was disappointed with the lost opportunity of an enemies to lovers. So i made one with a reader insert because i also couldn't find a lot of reader insert for joseph in it. Joseph and reader will get together very soon. Please dm this acc for recommendations. Thank you for reading!!!
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ok gift giving is a big part of atsushi’s love language 
this wasn’t meant to be long but-
whether its becuz the tiger’s cat-desire to hunt for the agency translated to something more human (along with cooking but my cooking atsushi headcanons will pop out sometime else) or just becuz atsushi has never been gifted anything pre-agency and to him its something very precious who knows
it’s not that he spends ages pouring over what to give the agency members (well not always) its more like if he goes to the store and sees a type of candy ranpo likes he’ll buy it for him
when atsushi’s new at wanting to give his loved ones gifts, he does over think it tho cmon its atsushi
like he’ll see a nice pen, buy it for kunikida, but then he’ll feel like its such a dumb little thing and he should’ve put more effort into a gift because of that he ends up hoarding a lot of trinkets becuz he’ll see them and buy them as presents but be too shy to give them up
(and he’ll also spend ages pouring over what the perfect present for everyone would be but always finding some fault in his ideas)
it’s not until dazai’s breaking into atsushi’s apartment to teach him the joys of stealing other people’s credit cards that he notices a neat stack of containers with atsushi’s friends and stuff’s name on it and asks atsushi about it that something ever happens
dazai: don’t tell me atsushi, you were planning on chopping us all up and storing us into these containers ? u’d need bigger ones for that by the way
atsushi, horrified: WHAT?? of course not!!! these are-
atsushi, flustered: these are just things that i dont know i bought becuz i thought you’d like them. but theyre silly so i didn’t give-
dazai, already opening his own box: ATSUSHI!
atsushi, trying to pull him away: what
dazai, pulling out a tiny void eyed black cat keychain: did you buy this for me? how did you know i wanted it?
atsushi:
atsushi: you wanted it?
dazai, lying but atsushi doesn’t need to know that: yeah i wanted something like this. how cruel atsushi, buying it and storing it away~ not giving it to me :(
atsushi, pleased and happy: do you um want to look at the other stuff ?
//
so essentially dazai in his own strange way of not actually addressing the problem convinces atsushi to give his silly little gifts to the agency members
(and tho he did not want anything like the keychain before, he’s quite pleased by it and all the other things that atsushi got for him)
so atsushi in a moment of joy and happiness places all the containers in front of each members door with his name signed and bolts (kyouka’s is placed near her stuff right before he leaves since he wakes up before her) (things for non-agency members like lucy are left in places where they work/hang out a lot) (fukuzawa’s in front of his office doors)
//
the morning at work, atsushi’s shaking with nervousness 
the first one to arrive after him is kunikida (who’s usually the first to arrive)
kunikida greets atsushi politely - theres something about him that seems different, a little red on his cheeks but atsushi cant tell what; he’s too busy being relieved that kunikida isn’t upset about his gifts
when kunikida opens his book, the pen he pulls out is the one atsushi gifted him and atsushi is immediately filled with warmth and contentment (when he moves his head, atsushi notices that his hair is tied with the ribbon atsushi gave him)
kunikida doesn’t say anything but his gratitude and his appreciation for atsushi’s gifts is clear (also he may or may not ruffle atsushi’s hair more than usual that day)
//
after kunikida and dazai’s appreciation, atsushi is more excited about everyone’s reactions
junichiro is flustered and pleased and thanks him profusely, grinning the entire day - naomi tells him about each gift and why she likes it 
kenji tries to gift him a cow which is banned from the office by kunikida - who points out that atsushi wouldn’t know what to do with it, so kenji comes back with chickens, and then after the same thing happens, gives atsushi stuff from his garden
haruno and the other staff all thank atsushi with hugs or shoulder pats
ranpo doesn’t look at atsushi as he approaches him but he’s wearing the pins atsushi bought him and the fact that he’s holding out a candy for atsushi to take is telling enough
yosano thanks him fiddling with the bracelet atsushi bought
kyouka apologizes for not giving him anything and atsushi has to explain to her that he’s just getting gifts becuz he wants to not becuz he wants them to give hm something back 
fukuzawa does the old person affection thing by placing his hand on atsushi head ya know the thing
anyway
lucy is blushing when he goes down to the cafe and calls him dumb and then gives him extra cake so-
//
the only person who atsushi’s bought gifts for but hasn’t given them to is akutagawa
their relationship isn’t as hostile as before but atsushi doesn’t know what to do with it but he thinks theres a tiny chance that akutagawa might like them so he makes up his mind and ships them to him (he does not include a return address or his name)
akutagawa, climbing through atsushi’s window a few days later: it was you wasn’t it?
atsushi: stop climbing through my window asshole????
akutagawa, coughing and showing atsushi the black bracelet atsushi got him: answer me
atsushi, remembering the gifts, flushing: wh-what ? noooo-  I uh. I mean i don’t know what you’re talking about
akutagawa: it has to be you. no one else would give me something as strange as a plastic skeleton
atsushi, weakly: it fit ur aesthetic ?
akutagawa, ‘glaring’ at him: 
atsushi: ...sorry?
akutagawa, looking away, coughing, ears red: whatever. i don’t like being in debt. tell me what you want, i’ll buy it for u
atsushi: oh no no no. you don’t have to do that! honest. it was just a few silly things that reminded me of... you... r u okay ur face’s red
akutagawa, grabbing atsushi and pulling him towards the window: shut up im buying u dinner
atsushi, very confused: ok?
anyway yeah
might add a part 2 becuz i wasn’t gonna post the start of atsushi giving gifts but just him giving ppl gifts but i cant help myself
also howd akutagawa get here
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trashpandacraft · 11 months
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having sat down and spent a bit of time spinning on all the wheels, i have thoughts on them!
our first contestant: a sheridan scandanavian. kinda.
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sheridan was an australian manufacturer in the 70s and early 80s, and this particular model is often mistaken for an ashford traditional. one tell that it isn't is the spokes on the wheel—a traddy has eight, and a scandanavian has six.
another tell is its tension knob, which i actually love—this is a lot easier to get a grip on than the ones that are just balls.
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...there's also a nameplate identifying the maker and the model. but that's kinda where things get weird, because this? this is not what a scandanavian is meant to look like.
eagle-eyed readers may have already noticed that it's a double drive wheel, which is weird, because the scandanavian was only ever made as scotch tension. sheridan made a similar wheel, the macarthur, that was a double drive. my understanding is that these wheels were sold as kits, so as best i can guess, someone must have had a scandanavian and a macarthur, and at some point, for some reason, they dropped the macarthur's workings onto the sheridan's stand.
whatever she is, though, she spins nicely—works exactly like you'd expect, even after what was clearly a number of years of neglect. i'd like to get some more oil into the leather bearings, but she's in good shape. this one's a surprisingly slow wheel, even on the highest ratio, but will be great for plying and—more importantly—for @binchickencrafts to learn to spin on.
next up is the tarra...something. maybe the evelyn, but maybe the agnes?
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she's beautiful, right? another tilt tension, too, which i like. lovely matching orifice hook with a little storage hole, and integrated bobbin storage, which i absolutely love.
so why's she weird? well. the evelyn was the evolution of the agnes, basically. agnes had a block for a mother of all, evelyn was shaped. agnes had a four-part drive wheel, evelyn had six. agnes had eight spokes on the drive wheel, evelyn had six.
this wheel, though. she has a shaped mother of all, an eight-part drive wheel, and eight spokes.
she also has a really neat flyer.
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the flyer is part of what attracted me, to be honest, and no regrets. it needs shined up some more—i was eager enough to try her out that i cleaned off the worst of the rust with some vinegar, but it needs some more attention. those hooks, though, are fantastic. i think that they're a curse for a lot of people, because if one's lost, replacements are almost impossible to come by, but if you have them, they're so good. the screw loosens the hook and lets you slide it as needed, and you can get very close to either end of the bobbin—you can use the stationary hook to wind on right at the front, and the movable hook covers the rest of the bobbin easily. all my treadle wheels have been fixed hooks, so this was a new adventure.
this is the wheel in the worst shape, i think. she needs oiled up, but also needs to have the rear maiden reseated—it's loosened and has a fair amount of horizontal play, which doesn't give the best experience. i feel like when that's fixed, which won't take more than a couple hours and some wood glue, she's going to be a sweet spot of a wheel. even with the movement in that back maiden, i can get from worsted down to cobweb on her, so i'm really looking forward to seeing what she's like when she's been patched up.
finally: the pipy saxony.
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please clap.
i can't overstate how small this wheel is. she weighs less than five kilos. that's like. a cat. that's a cat of weight. that's how much this wheel weighs. i knew when i bought her that she was a small wheel, but i hadn't realised how small, so i was a little concerned that she wasn't going to be very effective.
turns out joke's on me, because this teeny tiny wheel is an absolute powerhouse—as long as you want to spin finely. which is perfect for me, because i almost never use or spin yarn that's thicker than a light worsted, and even that's kinda pushing it. i'm the kind of person who knits jumpers out of sock yarn and owns multiple pairs of 1.5mm (size 000) circular needles.
this wheel wants to spin fast and wants to spin thin, and I *love* her. the wheel is weighted so it always stops ready to turn clockwise, and it's a string footman, and something about the combination of the two makes this an absolutely amazing experience. i spun for several hours, and my breaking point wasn't knee or ankle pain, but hip pain from sitting in that position too long.
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how the heck does a wheel that—again!—weighs like ten pounds manage to weight anything?
it's easy to miss, but in that first picture, there's integrated bobbin storage again, with room for one on each side of the wheel.
the tension system isn't like anything i've used, and can be adjusted both vertically and horizontally. the tension peg does what you'd expect and moves the slider block (and the mother of all on it) closer or further from the wheel, but you can also move the mother of all towards you or away from you to better align it with the wheel.
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she's just really nicely designed. look at this incredibly tidy bobbin release!
for the specific things that i spin most frequently, i'm pretty sure that the pipy is going to be my go-to treadle wheel, though i expect the others will see plenty of use, as well. and my eel wheel certainly isn't getting retired—my somewhat broken body is never going to let me use a treadle as often as i'd like, and there's a lot to be said for the ability to spin while watching television in bed. but i'm really excited to have these, and to use them when i can, even if it's not as often as i'd like.
i know that a lot of people are really dubious about buying used (especially vintage used) wheels, but i feel like they're often underrated. there's a lot of cool wheels out there that are as good or better than what you can buy in a store, and it's worth investigating it, if you're able to. (it's also worth noting that buying all three of these cost us less than half of what buying a single new ashford traditional would cost.)
finally, you want to see my favourite thing about the pipy? i saw someone complaining about this the other day, that their wheel's prior owner had 'gouged' it. but look.
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that little gouge means someone else loved this wheel so much that their yarn wore a channel into the wood. and as soon as i stop holding my yarn back, it slots straight into place.
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right where it's meant to be.
this wheel is older than i am—they're dated, on the bottom, and she was made in july 1972. she's only had one owner, a woman who used to teach spinning, but is elderly now and can't spin anymore. her daughter delivered it to me, and told me that this was her mother's last wheel—she'd gotten rid of the others, slowly, but held on to this until she was physically unable to treadle. fifty years! that woman spun on this wheel for fifty years.
i'm old enough that i don't imagine i'm going to get fifty years with it, but maybe i'll get lucky. either way, hopefully in another fifty years, someone new will be taking their turn, weirdly touched by the idea that this wheel has been so loved.
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enderwoah · 8 months
Text
im so unwell about q!pac no its not even funny anymore i need to put him in a terrarium up on a shelf and keep him safe up there. he doesn't deserve any bad thing, ever. i don't even care about "having a good story" or "giving your character a conflict" anymore, nah, no, if ONE (1) MORE BAD THING HAPPENS TO HIM IM GONNA LOSE IT!! IM GONNA START BREAKING THINGS!!!
he's so. sad. hes such a sad character. his insecurities about being useless to everyone are so real and so painful because he's not, all of us know that he's not, but we also completely understand why he feels that way because he's had everyone he loves ripped away from him and he hasn't been able to lift a finger to stop any of it. he's just left to sit in the ruins without any help. he's collateral to all the tragedy surrounding him and the favela 5 in general and he's. tired. not in the way that cellbit is tired (though that works, too). he's exhausted of feeling sad all the time. of crying all the time. of feeling that loneliness that gnaws holes into his bones and settles in the marrow and never leaves, not when richas' bed is empty, not when mike's bedroom has started to collect dust, not when he can't see a real, tangible presence in forever's dilated eyes. the only person he has is cellbit, and he could never ask cellbit to give up what he still has when pac has nothing to lose (and god, how selfless, how kind is that?), so when he figures the only way to get an antidote to the drug is to have the drug itself, why wouldn't he offer himself up? and if that wasn't the only reason he tried to get his hands on it, who could blame him?
maybe he took it first to just feel the effects and understand the angle it took in affecting his mind. maybe he just took it for research. do you think he had slipped by the second time? do you think he took it once and, for a short thirty minutes, found that he could forget about all the sorrow lining his lungs and breathe? do you think reality crashed back onto him after that first try? do you think he was scrambling to take it again, to go back to that...maybe it wasn't blissful ignorance, per se, but willful disregard? do you think he couldn't wait to be submerged so deep that he couldn't think one more time? do you think he was hesitant? do you think he kept promising himself, one more, one more, one more...
god he is so. so sad. i was watching phil's pov, so everything was like a neat little movie for me, and just. cellbit and forever arguing while pac was just sobbing in the background was AWFUL. just. awful. it hurt. (cc!pac was damn good at acting, too, and that DID NOT HELP.) the moment he stepped on the trap i felt like i was hit with a brick. like no, of COURSE we should NOT be putting PAC in a CONFINED JAIL CELL. ALONE. and i know it was for his own good but i still felt so so so sick. the way he immediately curled up in the corner. the way he was crying to himself. the way he instantly answered richas' birthday the moment bad asked for it. the way he got visibly more upset and terrified when cellbit started shouting at forever. what the hell. no seriously what the HELL.
and, like, oh my god, making him the one to solve the antidote? proving that even though he may have fallen to the drug (the drug which was basically created by GODS, by the way, lets be real, the federation is nawt normal), he's still so useful. he's still such an asset. he's smart and he's kind and he's charismatic and he's trusting and he's so so selfless and so so brave and so strong. tubbo put it perfectly. the fact that he's gone through all the horrible awful stuff he's gone through and he's still standing just proves how capable he is. how tough he is. cellbit calling him "my dear." pointing out the fact that he sacrificed himself without knowing he was going to come back. "i'm only afraid of being sad again." "you will be sad again. but you won't be alone." he's so. he's just. he's. im frothing at the mouth. he gave himself up to save the rest of the island from this plague that took one of his best friends and might've taken the entire island if he didn't do anything. under that stress. experiencing that level of loss.
pac is one of the toughest goddamn people on the island and if anyone on that server even dares try to imply otherwise i will do heinous heinous things, mark my WORDS.
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