#laser light canon

[minijenn]

To stop the eye in the sky, the answers lie on secret pages... The magic and the mystery deepens...

Time for another UF promo! Doing mock Journa 3 pages is always fun, and I def plan on doing more of them in the future, but for now, enjoy this (there are some... hidden details in here, for those who wanna find em).

[neeko-system]

season 1 steven universe has no right being the way it does.

[ofdragonsdeep]

18: A Fish Out Of Water

A most unorthodox suggestion.

“Are you sure about this?”

Mitron paced back and forth past the rows of aquariums, the frown set so deeply on his face that it seemed likely to stay there forever. Behind him, Orn Mahr eyed the fish hungrily, but Ar’telan was reasonably certain that he wouldn’t be able to get in.

“Reasonably confident,” he replied. Mitron’s grimace lengthened.

“This wasn’t your idea,” he said. This time it was Ar’telan’s turn to wince.

“No.”

“And you agreed?”

“It worked for Elidibus.”

Mitron heaved a very put-upon sigh, pivoting one final time on the flagstones and walking over to the benches, where he all but fell into one with a defeated huff of air.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll surrender to this plan, but. I have conditions.” Ar’telan nodded, walking over to the table to join him. “Firstly, I’m putting you in between me and him. Sorry.” 

“Understandable,” Ar’telan replied, though the idea didn’t exactly thrill him.

“Second, and this is very important - this was Thancred’s idea, I’m assuming?” The look on Mitron’s face was accusatory, as if Thancred would feel it through the aether somehow, but Ar’telan nodded all the same. “Well, you can tell him that next time he wants to suggest something so patently insane, he can come himself.”

“Thancred hates fishing.”

“That is not the point, and you know it.” They both froze as a splashing noise echoed from the back of the room. “Don’t you DARE,” Mitron practically bellowed, almost teleporting across the room to fish the errant dragonet out of his aquariums before any permanent damage was done.

Ar’telan decided this counted as a win.

—

It was a pleasant time of the year for Sharlayan weather, a little too warm for snow and not overly prone to rain. Ar’telan still found it a little cold for his liking, but as far as he could tell Sharlayan never reached a comfortable temperature, not even in the heights of summer. So he would take it.

It helped that there wasn’t a giant whale marooned in the harbour any more, too.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Mitron muttered. It was warm enough for him, if his current attire was anything to go by - the floral print on his thin shirt seemed more at home on a tropical island than the cold coast of Sharlayan, perhaps, but Mitron had never let that stop him. 

“I think you should give it a chance,” Ar’telan replied.

“You’re a bad idea,” Orn Mahr said. He spoke in Meracydian, as was his wont when throwing insults he didn’t really mean, but Mitron’s Echo meant he understood it regardless.

“Shut it, pipsqueak, or you’re going to be the one acting as the meat shield,” he grumbled.

A flash of the aetheryte shard heralded the arrival of their guest. Hephaistos towered a good foot of height above even Mitron, and his permanent frown and sensible dress cut an imposing figure that was only slightly undercut by the red carbuncle that pranced about his feet.

“Thancred informed me that you would be waiting for me, though he did not say why,” he offered as greeting. “I raised my suspicions, and he remarked-”

“Very Lahabrea of you,” Mitron finished, which set the frown in further.

“Quite,” Hehpahistos said. “For what purpose is my presence required?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” Ar’telan replied, gesturing towards the boat.

“We’re going fishing!” Orn Mahr exclaimed, and both Ar’telan and Mitron winced in unison.

“...Fishing,” Hephaistos repeated, every syllable utterly stripped of approval.

“It’s a bonding activity,” Ar’telan offered, wilting under Hephaistos’s stern look. Mitron sighed.

“Look, just get in the boat, ok? It won’t be that bad,” he said. “And before you blame either of us, I’ll have you know this was Thancred’s idea.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Hephaistos said, raising an eyebrow. The carbuncle at his feet grabbed one of his shoelaces in its mouth, and began to determinedly tug him towards the water. “Obstinate creature. Very well. I will tolerate this exercise in futility.”

“Thanks,” Ar’telan signed weakly. Mitron gave him a dubious look, but the two of them - and Orn Mahr, after much grumbly deliberation - joined Hephaistos in the boat.

—

The seas were calm, the sea breeze pleasant, and the clouds just populous enough to preclude the need for a sunhat. Mitron, in a rare display of restraint, had not simply jumped into the sea to begin fishing by hand, and had instead produced a rod. Orn Mahr was stood at the head of the boat, pretending to be a figurehead by swapping between overly dramatic poses. Which left Ar’telan and Hephaistos at the back of the boat, sat in uncomfortable silence.

They were not alone, exactly. Lily had settled on Ar’telan’s head and begun her familiar activity of glaring at the nearest Ascian judgmentally. The carbuncles were staring at each other, possibly as some sort of arcane attempt to bond. But the air was still discomforting.

“Aquatic life is the purview of the Words of Mitron,” Hephaistos remarked. Ar’telan replied by passing him a fishing rod. “Unless you wish for me to catch an illusory fish, my expertise is useless to you.”

“According to some sources, some of the fish on the First-” Mitron began, before cutting himself off. “Well, if we ever manage to figure out a way to get back there, you can go and be useful for me.”

“Can you not go yourself?” Hephaistos said. Ar’telan felt the wince.

“Not exactly,” Mitron said, his tone more evasive than a Monk’s footwork. 

“It’s relaxing once you get used to it,” Ar’telan tried. 

“I am not stressed,” Hephaistos replied, which was a blatant lie as far as Ar’telan was concerned, but he knew better than to poke it.

“You don’t have to be. Don’t you want to see what a world unfettered by the strict requirements of ordained Creation has produced?” Hephaistos grunted at that, but he did take the fishing rod, which was progress.

“An untamed wilderness is hardly something to be lauded,” he said, “though I suppose it is a good enough demonstration of useful traits. The knowledge would augment my work, should I ever have cause to begin it anew.” He regarded the fishing rod with scepticism, then looked over at Mitron, studying his movements. Rather than offer unwanted tips, Ar’telan shuffled around in the seat and cast his own line out over the water. It wasn’t the worst idea Thancred had ever had, he supposed, although in the grand scheme of things that was a difficult prize to win. He was glad that Mitron had agreed to come, though. Hephaistos hadn’t said so much as a word against him since they had pulled Athena’s claws out of his soul, but the irrational spectre of Lahabrea was hard to shake. 

He thought of Pandæmonium, suspended in eerie silence in the Aitiascope. Of Claudien, missing. There had been no news from Labyrinthos yet, and even then the burgeoning emergency in the Void had taken priority, but it would not stay silent forever.

Hephaistos tried to cast a line, a clumsy movement that made him frown in consternation. The lure hit the water, though, and with small, careful movements he tested the reel, attempting to understand how the rod functioned. In almost every way he did not belong there - legs too long to sit comfortably on the boat even without the claws to contend with, hands smooth from academic work, a precise, careful attitude that disliked the flexibility that fishing so often required. But he had made the effort, in spite of it. Ar’telan appreciated that.

The way things had been going, he’d take a win where he could get one.  

[235uranium]

we never see ford use any close range weapons do we. he always opts for long range weapons even WHEN it would be a close range fight

[redvdress]

IF YOU WAKE HER UP, YOU’RE DEAD

A/N: oooook since anon have been asking for some relationship bakugo stuff, here’s my version for it. it’s my first time ever writing for him but i tried my best to picture him canon, soo enjoy!! you fell asleep on your boyfriend’s shoulder and you got caught too, what did he do?

The night was quiet, and the halls of U.A were empty. It was late—later than Bakugo usually stayed up, especially with a brutal training session awaiting him in the morning.

Still, here he was, sprawled on the common room couch with textbooks and notebooks scattered on the coffee table in front of him. He wasn’t one to study in the dorm’s common area, much preferring the solitude of his room. But tonight was different.

You were there with him.

He hadn’t planned it this way. Bakugo had been cramming, prepping for an upcoming test that Aizawa had threatened them all with. Normally, he would’ve told everyone else to stay the hell out of his way, barking at any idiot who dared to disturb him. But when you suggested studying together earlier, something in him gave.

He wouldn’t admit it, but the thought of you by his side made it tolerable—maybe even enjoyable.

The two of you had spent hours working in a comfortable silence. Well, comfortable for you. Bakugo had his usual scowl, occasionally muttering about the idiots in the class or cursing out loud when a particular formula or hero law didn’t make sense immediately. Despite his fiery demeanor, you could tell he was laser-focused, determined to come out on top. That was just who he was—always aiming for the number one spot. It was one of the many things you admired about him.

At some point, though, the exhaustion caught up with you. Katsuki had noticed you rubbing your eyes, trying to keep yourself awake as you scrawled down notes. He’d been keeping a sideways eye on you ever since, but said nothing, too proud to outright suggest you stop and go to bed. But deep down, he could see you were tired.

It had been a long day, and between morning classes and the intense afternoon training led by All Might, you were wiped. The sofa was comfortable, and the rhythmic sound of Bakugo flipping through pages and scribbling notes was strangely soothing.

Before you knew it, your eyelids grew heavy, and your body leaned unconsciously towards him. Your head found its way onto his shoulder, and before either of you realized, you had drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Bakugo stiffened at first, feeling the weight of your head gently resting against him. The sudden warmth of your body against his side sent a jolt through his system. His first instinct was to wake you up with a sharp nudge—he wasn’t exactly used to people being this close to him, much less while he was supposed to be studying.

But for some reason, Bakugo couldn’t bring himself to do it. His eyes flicked down to your face, now completely relaxed in sleep. The furrow between your brows that had been there during studying was gone, replaced by a soft, peaceful expression. Your breathing was steady, slow.

“Damn,” Bakugo muttered under his breath, careful not to disturb you. You looked so calm, so vulnerable like this.

He wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling creeping up in his chest.

It wasn’t something he was used to—a strange mix of protectiveness and warmth, a side of him that he hadn’t fully come to terms with yet.

He shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position without moving you too much. He glanced around the empty common room, the soft glow of the single lamp casting long shadows on the walls. The dim lighting, paired with the quiet ticking of the wall clock, made the atmosphere feel almost intimate. His usual instinct to keep people at arm’s length was quieted by the sheer peace of the moment.

Still, he couldn’t help himself.

He muttered low under his breath, “Tch, idiot. You’re drooling on my shoulder…”

But there was no real heat in his voice. In fact, there was a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though he’d never admit it. He reached out, grabbing the throw blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch, and carefully pulled it over you. His movements were slow and deliberate, making sure not to wake you. Normally, the thought of someone leaning on him, invading his space like this, would piss him off. But somehow, with you, it was different.

His red eyes softened as he watched your chest rise and fall, lost in your dreams. You trusted him—enough to fall asleep on him, enough to let your guard down entirely.

Katsuki knew what trust meant in this line of work. It was something you built through blood, sweat, and tears. It wasn’t something he gave away freely, either. But somehow, you had managed to crack through that thick, explosive shell of his.

Not that he’d admit that to anyone. Ever.

“Damn extras would never let me live this down,” he muttered to himself, feeling the slightest flush of embarrassment. His pride wouldn’t survive the onslaught of teasing that would surely follow if anyone saw him like this. Soft. Vulnerable.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and Bakugo tensed. His eyes snapped towards the door just as it opened, revealing none other than Kirishima. Of course, it had to be him. The red-haired idiot had a knack for showing up at the worst times.

Kirishima’s eyes widened the second he took in the sight before him—Bakugo sitting stiffly on the couch, you curled up next to him, sound asleep. And there was a blanket.

Bakugo had covered you with a blanket.

A wide grin spread across Kirishima’s face, and Bakugo could already see the teasing coming a mile away. “Whoa, man, this is too cute!” Kirishima’s voice was loud, his words brimming with amusement. He took a step closer, clearly ready to capitalize on the rare sight.

Bakugo’s glare could’ve melted steel. His hand curled into a fist, and he raised a single, deadly finger to Kirishima. “Oi. If you wake her up, I swear on everything, you’re dead.”

Kirishima froze in place, hands raised in surrender, though his grin only widened. “Whoa, whoa! Chill, dude. I’m not gonna wake her. But come on, Bakugo, this is a side of you I never expected to see.”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding audibly. “Shut it, Shitty Hair. Get lost before I blow your dumbass to pieces,” he growled, keeping his voice low enough not to disturb you.

But Kirishima wasn’t backing down. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shot Bakugo a knowing look. “Man, you’ve changed. You know that, right? I mean, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day you’d let someone fall asleep on you without, you know, blowing up half the room.” He gave Bakugo a thumbs-up, his smile genuine, despite the teasing. “She’s good for you, man.”

Bakugo’s eyes flashed dangerously, and for a moment, it looked like he might actually follow through with his threat. His hand twitched, tiny pops of sparks dancing at his fingertips, but he held himself back. Barely.

“You got three seconds to get out of here before I wipe that dumb grin off your face,” he hissed, his voice a low growl.

Kirishima laughed again, clearly enjoying how riled up Bakugo was getting. “Alright, alright! I’m going. Don’t get all fired up.” He took a step back, still grinning. “But seriously, Bakugo, it’s nice to see you like this. You should let it show more often.”

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed to slits, but before he could retort, Kirishima had already slipped out of the room, leaving Bakugo to seethe in silence.

“Tch. Stupid idiot…” he muttered under his breath, glaring at the door where Kirishima had been standing. His hands unclenched, and he leaned back against the couch, letting out a long breath. The tension that had built up in his shoulders slowly melted away as the room fell silent again. He glanced down at you, still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the brief interaction.

The scowl softened on his face. He wasn’t one to express his feelings easily—or at all, really. His love was shown through action, through the way he looked out for you during training, or the way he pushed you to be better, stronger. But moments like this, where he allowed himself to be close, to let down his guard, were still foreign territory for him.

Carefully, Bakugo shifted his arm, resting it along the back of the couch behind you. He glanced at the clock. It was later than he thought, and the weariness in his own muscles was starting to catch up with him. He hadn’t planned on falling asleep out here, but with you curled up beside him, warm and steady, he could feel his eyelids growing heavier.

His eyes flicked back to you one last time. For all the hell you went through at UA, for all the chaos and danger they faced in their training and in the field, this was one moment of quiet he wasn’t going to take for granted.

Bakugo let out a quiet sigh, his body finally relaxing against the cushions.

His hand, still resting on the back of the couch, slowly found its way to yours under the blanket.

He laced his fingers with yours, feeling the warmth of your skin against his.

He closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him into a rare state of peace.

Before he knew it, he had drifted off too, his head leaning back against the couch, his breathing evening out into soft, steady inhales and exhales.

When Bakugo woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the sunlight creeping through the common room window, casting long, golden beams across the floor. He blinked, his mind still foggy with sleep, before realizing he was still on the couch. And you were still nestled up beside him.

His heart gave a brief, surprised lurch before he quickly masked the feeling with a grunt. He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you, but the movement must have been enough because you stirred, your head lifting slowly from his shoulder.

“Mmm… morning,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes as you blinked awake.

Bakugo turned his head slightly, trying to sound casual. “Morning,” he grunted, his voice still rough with sleep. He felt you pull away a bit, and immediately, the cold air hit where your warmth had been. His first instinct was to grumble about it, but instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets, standing up quickly. “You drooled on me, idiot,” he said, his tone sharp, but not biting. It was more teasing than anything else.

Your face flushed with embarrassment, a small, sleepy smile tugging at your lips. “Sorry…”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, turning away as he stretched, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. “Tch. Just don’t make a habit of it,” he muttered, though the usual harsh edge in his voice was absent. There was something softer, more subdued, as if last night’s vulnerability had lingered in the air.

As you stood up and stretched, Bakugo glanced towards the door, half-expecting Kirishima or another one of the extras to barge in with more teasing remarks. He wasn’t in the mood for any of that right now. But the common room was still empty, the rest of the dorms quiet in the early morning.

Bakugo walked towards the door, glancing back over his shoulder at you. “C’mon,” he said, his voice back to its usual gruffness. “Let’s grab some breakfast before the damn extras wake up. And don’t expect me to wait for you,” he added, though there was no real bite in his words.

But as you fell in step beside him, your hand brushing against his briefly, Katsuki felt that familiar warmth bloom in his chest again.

[spring-lxcked]

the crack version of that post is i think it would be funny for william to be Chilling Late At Work and spring and golden show up together ready to kick ass

[dj-of-the-coven]

trigun 1998 episode simulator

[3 minutes of guitar solo]

Vash the Stampede: hi my name is Vash the Stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love. all I really want to do is have a sandwich and a morning coffee without getting chased by bandits

some bandit: (gunshot) absolutely not. square up faggot

Vash: rats.

[gunfight]

Vash the Stampede: my name is Vash the stampede. I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Love.could I please have a sandwich

Meryl from the Bernardelli Insurace Society: how long are you going to sit on your ass doing nothing but playing games with children and doing chores for the elderly and disabled and looking after lonely youths and cooking dinner for the homeless

Vash: I've been here for like 2 days

Milly Thompson: Hi Vash!

Vash: Hi Milly

[exit left pursued by bounty hunters]

Vash the Stampede: (panting, entering a bar) my name is Vash the stampede.... I am a hunter of Peace chasing the elusive mayfly of Good L*rd what is going on in here

Hostage: mphdsfhapff!!!! mffmpphhf!!!!

Villain of the week: well if it isn't the elusive Vash the Stampede! you see it all started when I was 4 days old and you kicked me like a football and then exploded my parents to death with a laser canon and killed every puppy in a ten ile (translator's note: this is the No Man's Land equivalent of the American Mile) radius

Vash: I don't remember doing that but well I suppose you can shoot me if it'll make you feel better

Side character of the week: Are you insane? Just shoot him instead???

Vash: but my mom told me not to be mean to people

Villain of the week: (still going) And as I am now 47 years old I have finally decided to get my revenge. Say your prayers, Vash the Pisshead

[Wall explodes and reveals a motorcycle with a sexy priest on it]

[sfx: guitar with a hint of electric distortion]

Vash: is that..... Wolfwood?

Meryl who was in the background this whole time: the priest?

Nicholas Dickolas Wolfwood: (brings his fingers up to a pair of luscious lips to grab the cigarette from right between them, taking one more slow inhale before crushing the cherry red underneath his heel)(sensually cocks one of his 8 guns) Are you just gonna let this guy talk down to you like that needle noggin?

Vash: I g-

[guitar riff bumper]

[guitar riff bumper]

Vash: -uess not, since you're here to help now... (slow, warm smile) Wolfwood

Nicholas D. ranged Wolfwood: Vash

Milly who was also in the background this whole time: Hi mr priest man! isn't this lovely, I haven't seen you since the last time you spoke with mr Vash yesterday evening when you were helping him buckle all those silly belts on his pants after he had lost them somehow

Vash: On a cactus

Milly: On a cactus! Oh it must've hurt so terribly; how fortunate that Mr Priest man was there to help you

Wolfwood: Hi Milly

[gunfight]

Villain of the week: ohhhhh curses!!! CURSES!!!! I have spent my whole existence getting ready to fight Vash the Stampede but he's just too good at swallowing all my bullets!!!!!!

Vash the Stampede: my tragic dead mother would be sad if I didn't swallow everyone's bullets so I've trained diligently every morning at digesting gunpowder without dying immediately

Wolfwood: [internally: I can't believe it. All this time I've spent walking the path of darkness, reaching to a pure light that I could never grasp, and yet here is a man who's dedicated his life and his body to the pursuit of Peace. I wish he were a woman so I could fuck him romantic style. I've got a whole plan for it and everything. Whiskey, sunset, a bed with no sand in it, 6 hours. This would be fully and completely possible if only he were a woman. Unfortunately he's not, but I can still think about the what-ifs. platonically of course. Maybe if he got some good dick he'd stop being so annoying. And maybe he'd stop making me rethink my morals. I wonder if the seven drunken handies meant anything to him. Platonically]

Wolfwood: Well anyway it looks like my job is done here

Vash: (teary) Will I see you again?

Wolfwood: I don't know. And besides, whenever I look at you, I'm reminded of everything I hate about myself. You know, it hurts.

[exit Nicholas D. Wolfwood pursued by repressed homosexual desires and immense catholic guilt]

Vash the Stanned Peat: (looking out the window like a widow whose husband was killed in action) Nicholas... D... Wolfwood.......

Meryl who was in the background that entire time, yes, the whole time: shut the fuck up already

Vash: when will it be my turn Meryl. When

[roll credits]

[novantinuum]

Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

__

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

now i know that the new year's episode canonized that there is no christmas in the sonic boomniverse but consider with me. christmas episode of sonic boom where amy's like "well what are you guys doing for christmas" and all the boys respond with something super lame but funny (tails is going to spend christmas with his Plane) and she's like "sticks tell me you're doing something nice" and sticks is like "oh i don't celebrate christmas. i don't want any old guy breaking into my house and leaving me unidentified objects" and tails is like "but sticks don't you want shiny things?" "not if they're bombs" and sonic goes "santa doesn't bring bombs, sticks" and she's like "so you say. but when his final plan to turn the world into an endless pole of ice comes to fruition, don't come crying to me" and she leaves the table (they're at mehburger) and amy's like "i think sticks just needs to get into the holiday spirit" and knuckles is like "the holiday spit?" and sonic is like "knuckles do you want to go lie down" "yes!!!! :D"

anyway it's christmas eve and amy starts preparing a christmas party to throw for sticks and she stops by tails's workshop in order to pick up some tools to hang a banner but she hears some weird noises coming from inside so she breaks in with her hammer only to find sonic with a santa hat and tails trying to load up a sleigh and she's like "what" and sonic reveals that actually, Adventures Of Sonic The Hedgehog's "Sonic Christmas Blast" is completely and utterly canon to the boomniverse and thus he is actively santa claus. he has been trying to sneak presents into sticks's house for years bc he loves her but he has to save it for last because her traps always get him stuck. we cutaway to a silly montage of sonic trying to leave her stuff only to get caught. luckily he can just eat the santa hat and she will assume he got trapped protecting her from laser-eyed reindeer and let him back out (this works every year). amy completely ignores the revelation that sonic is santa claus and instead swears herself to helping him get sticks's presents to her. she also brings in knuckles and sonic's like "don't you think he'll tell people that i'm santa" and she's like "naw he's already forgotten" and knuckles says "who's santa"

we then have a heist-movie-formatted rest of the episode of sonic, knuckles and amy trying to sneak presents into sticks's burrow while her defense systems nearly take them out and tails runs reconnaissance. at one point amy decides they need to borrow orbot and cubot for a thing. we cut to orbot and cubot trying to decorate the lair for christmas and eggman tells them to stop because the motobugs keep trying to climb the christmas tree and the buzzbots get tangled in the garlands. amy just walks into the house and asks politely if they can borrow orbot and cubot and eggman's like "what the heck. no" and amy pulls out her hammer and yells "IT'S CHRISTMAS YOU JERK" and eggman's like "uuhhhhhhh alright go ahead."

anyway this continues until the team's finally inside sticks's house and they're setting up her presents when suddenly the lights go out. a light shines on sticks, hanging from the rafters; she is always prepared every night for intruders, and so she ties everyone to the christmas tree amy tried to set up and then is like "oh. it's just you guys. did you get mind-controlled by elves" and sonic's finally like "STICKS. THERE ARE NO MIND-CONTROLLING ELVES. I'M SANTA AND I JUST WANT TO GIVE YOU YOUR STUPID UNLICENSED WEAPONS" and amy's like "WHAT??? THAT'S THE PRESENT WE WERE GIVING HER??? WHERE IS YOUR HOLIDAY SPIRIT, SANTA" and sticks is just like "oooh!!! actually that is a good present, thanks. also you could have just told me you were santa" "no i couldn't. you would have executed me as a traitor" "yeah, i would've." "can you untie us now" "oh. yeah"

sticks unties them and there's a nice "merry christmas" between everyone. and then sticks says "but you guys DO know i also don't celebrate christmas because i'm jewish right" and the episode ends

[viiper1]

The perfect Date.

The ideal date they would plan for you.

Head canons

Mentioned: Armin, Jean, eren, Conny, Reiner

Armin Arlert.

Would start off with a Picknick near a flower field.

Would make you a flower crown.

You’d watch the sunset together and do cloud gazing/star gazing (depending on how long you guys stayed)

Or Picknick at the beach

and if he thinks you’re the type of person to like or value that sort of thing he will give you cute seashells he found.

Afterwards you’d take a walk on the beach, walking barefoot in the sand during the sunset.

He’d probably take some pictures too to remember this date. For some reason he always takes the best pictures of you without even really trying.

And MIGHT gift you a self made memory book or a handwritten letter.

If it’s colder he’d take you ice skating

will teach you how to properly skate because you keep falling on your ass.

Don’t worry he’s catching you (most of the times)

Connie Springer.

Would take you to an arcade or a gaming center (and laugh at you every time you lose to him) would swear that you cheated when you win against at him more than once.

You two almost spend the whole day there completely forgetting about the time because you were having so much fun.

Or a amusement park/fun fair

he will try to encourage you if you’re scared to ride a ride

and even make fun of you a little bit “don’t tell me you’re scared, how cute” he teases

On the ride you’re BOTH screaming your asses off.

“You seemed scared…at your grown age…cute I guess” You made fun of him tease him back.

You two almost ride all the roller coasters

He tried to win you a plushie on claw machine but it takes him like 6 tries untill he gets one small plushy

“I swear these machines are rigged!” He says but then tries again on a different machine.

You make him ride the Ferris wheel with you at the end.

Jean Kirstein.

Drive in movie theater,

If you’re watching a scary movie it’s probably because he thought you’d snuggle into him in fear but then he’d be the one to claw on to you but he swears on his grandma that he isn’t scared.

Dinner date but he’s making dinner for you.

Idk why but I love the thought of Jean making dinner for his lover.

OR you’re both cooking together,

maybe even messing around and smearing a bit of flower on his face but he’d definitely get revenge for that one.

He’d have candles lit and the lights out, it would be super romantic.

Surprisingly the food doesn’t taste bad.

Afterwards if you’re not too tired, you both would point portraits of each other and he’s lowkey a good painter so he did a really nice job.

If you’re too tired you’d just snuggle in bed and watch a movie.

Eren Yeager.

Also Arcade or gaming center

it was supposed to be cute a first but it turns very competitive very fast

he doesn’t like to lose and if he does he’ll say he let you win on purpose.

You better watch out at laser tag he will not hold back just because you’re his gf.

Takes most games supper serious and you barely have a chance at winning.

Feels kinda bad afterwards so he buys you a plushy and roses at the store around the corner as a surprise.

Or a rooftop restaurant dinner/bar

the view was so beautiful, it felt unreal,

he was paying ofc

He bought you a bracelet with the initial “E” on it, and expects you to wear it everyday.

Will ask why you’re not wearing it if he doesn’t see it on your arms throughout the relationship/marriage.

Reiner Braun.

Romantic fancy dinner

He would 100% stand there with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and open the car door for you.

It’s a Very fancy restaurant but he didn’t tell you so you lowkey look like you wandered into the wrong building. He feels kinda bad afterwards when you tell him you feel out of place and underdressed.

You already KNOW he’s paying.

Or picnic and candle painting

He’d try his best to make a pretty candle but he’s not as good at it as you.

He puts them in the loving room but doesn’t really want to use the candles because he doesn’t want them to ‘disappear’

After you made him go on another candle painting date in hops that you get to burn at least one of the, now four, candles he still insists on not using them and suggests a different normal candle.

Ofc if you Insist on wanting to use one of the four, he’ll let you but he’s lowkey a bit sad to see them go since they reminded him of the date.

Thank you for reading<3

@briefpeachdinosaur

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

Hey, remember how during Pride Month the writeblr community has posts circulating where queer authors are encouraged to promote their books with queer representation?

July is disability pride month, Disabled people are at risk of falling below the poverty line especially and i'd love to help those who are published get paid this month if i can, so...

Let's do the same thing but with Disability Pride Month!!!

Disabled Writers feel free to promote your stuff!

I'll start:

Hello, I'm Anna, I'm an Autistic and ADHD author! Here are my canonically disabled characters in books that will come out in like 50 years because I'm a slow writer:

(I noticed most of these are mental disabilities and disorders, probably because that's where most of my personal experience is, BUT i do have quite a few physical disabilities in there, and there's also quite a bit of intersectionality <333)

Prince Kaye (FSF series): Kaye has OCD! He's also mixed latino and bisexual <3 very sweet scrawny peacemaker prince born to a family of warlords <3

Captain Cassandra (FSF series): Cassandra is mute due to trading her voice and tail for human legs, and partially deaf due to an explosion on the seas during a battle. Due to losing her tail for human legs, she also experiences chronic pain in her feet (the original curse of every step feeling like walking on knives if you will). She's also plus sized, pansexual, and gets a pirate girlfriend

Erica (FSF series): Erica is an amputee pirate with a peg leg. She's also lesbian, polynesian, plus sized, and Cassandra's hopeless romantic pirate girlfriend.

Princess Hestia (FSF series): Hestia has an anxiety disorder! She's also plus sized, South Asian mixed (like her brother), and falls in love with a shy blonde bookworm trans boi named Elliot

Raven (FSF series): Raven is Autistic! He's a morally gray knight charged with being the personal bodyguard of a reckless princess. He's so Latino and bisexual <3

Princess Sapphire (FSF series): Sapphire has ADHD! She's the reckless adventure seeking and impulsive princess that Raven has to protect. She's also a redhead, and demisexual <3

Triveya (FSF series): Triveya is autistic and adhd! She's the resident wizard and magic expert in the cast of FSF, and is a little bit feral with a bubbly and nerdy personality

Kylee (TCIO series): Kylee is autistic and non speaking! She's a superhero with super speed and invisibility powers, and she's the youngest of the team while also being a mischievous and outgoing ball of sunshine

Bryson (TCIO series): Bryson is diabetic! I'm still developing his character so i haven't figured out which type he is yet (leaning towards type 2). He's the superhero team medic with healing powers (can't heal himself or emotional injuries with said powers), and he's also a black guy and the token straight of the team that's on thin ice

Chase (TCIO series): Chase has OCD, a bipolar mood disorder, and chronic depression and anxiety to go with it! He's the tech guy on the team of superheroes, and doesn't have any supernatural abilities, but he's really good with computers and tech. He's cynical and sarcastic (because of the ableism he's experienced in the past) but secretly does care, and he's also Romani American and Jewish!

Corie (Galaxy Des. series): Corie is a cyborg and has prosthetic limbs! She has a prosthetic eye, arm, and leg. The eye does come with a small interface and her arm does have a laser gun attachment. She built and repairs all of her robot parts herself, and is a highly feared and valuable assassin in the galactic underworld. She's also mixed brown and is AroAce!

NOVA (Galaxy Des. series): Nova is epileptic! She is an android who was scrapped due to malfunction, and became a smuggler who is good at her trade. Due to faulty wiring she's epileptic. She's a cynical and grumpy android who accidentally falls in love with a loveable human lesbian rogue. She's bisexual and has shiny chrome skin with cyan lighting in the cracks.

Pandora (Galaxy Des. series): Pandora is a part-time wheelchair user, autistic and adhd, and tourettic! He is a biologist that formerly did morally questionable work for the galactic government, and now does that same work in the criminal underworld and sells it to the highest bidder. She also uses he/she pronouns, is mixed brown, and pansexual!

Ethel (unnamed witchy wip): Ethel has one eye and PTSD! She's a witch in a world where magic has just been outlawed, and a witch hunting cult has been hired by the new king and queen to hunt down and eradicate witches. She's also AroAce and very underdeveloped because this is a backburner wip.

Thanks for reading! Links to my wips are in my pinned post! If you are a disabled writer and or have disabled characters, do share!

Happy Disability Pride Month!

[monakisu]

I want you to know that I came across a random post of your Death Note art, went "Awww, oh my gosh, with the way this person draws Light I think Akechi would look fantastic in the same style!", clicked onto your profile, and then saw your newest artwork was Akechi. I'm still kind of cackling over it and thought maybe you'd find it funny too. Your art is SO cute, I'm very happy I found it <333

HAHA THAT’S AMAZING (<< was an akechi artist wayyyy before i fell head over heels for light)

but rlly… theyre so similar:

- brunet

- asshole

- pretty boy

- mass murderer

- black-haired homoerotic rival

at the end of the day, the key difference is one is a top and the other is a bottom.

ok but seriously, they’re vastly different characters on a fundamental level:

- light was handed everything him on a silver platter: family, friends, looks, intellect, a comfortable life… as a bastard child of a sex worker and now an orphan, goro had to fight his way to his current position and will always harbor a terrible sense of inferiority (light is completely confident in his absolute superiority, Always (that’s why the challenge of L sent him off the deep end of obsession lol))

- light genuinely sees himself as a hero, while goro would like to feel the same but is nonetheless depressingly aware of his villain’s journey (his undesirable position as the detective vs the underdog phantom thieves, his string of assassinations, his ultimate dirty bloody goal, etc.).

- light’s motive is about the world’s salvation, cleansing, the birth of his ideal reality (very messianic of him with the slightest loving tinge of mary cradling her lamb hahaha) while goro is laser-focused on ruining this one asshole’s life in particular, vengeance and revenge at once! one’s focused on rebirth, and the other gunning straight for death! they both use murder to get what they want but light probably floats around thinking himself so clean and divine as mother of the world (ignorance is bliss) while goro is constantly desperately trying to cover up his suspiciously red hands with his gloves hehehe… they’re both constantly striving for perfection, just with varying levels of self-awareness!!

- goro is a canonical loner; light has a horde of friends; this is probably due to a difference in public persona! goro is an untouchable idea of what he thinks a human should be and is completely out of the loop when it comes to normal social interactions (believes opening with hegel will instantly endear himself to the average person (luckily he inflicted that upon akira who is decidedly not average in the slightest)), light is implied to be more down-to-earth and even slightly goofy (he’s gaming decorum like an advanced speedrunner)! it’s probably good how distant goro is, because getting any closer to him will allow you to see how off-putting and uncanny he is, sorta like an AI-generated image—seams in the wrong places and far too much teeth LOL. meanwhile light has this whole shebang so thoroughly figured out that he’s BORED with it all! he’d like to move on to the next game (with L), thank you!! light definitely still exudes uncanny creepiness (it’s his natural state of being) especially when he zones out or starts hysterically cackling out of nowhere at his own thoughts, but he’s a hundred times better at masking compared to goro due to a better upbringing. goro is starved for the adoring friends he sees akira easily picking up one after another; light couldn’t give less of a shit because he’s always had those trivial luxuries! he’d much rather prefer an adoring WORLD!!

- then there’s the difference in how they die… one started out surrounded with company but ultimately died alone, while it’s the opposite for the other (if you count the de-realization of maruki’s reality as goro’s “death” (which i don’t)).

- in conclusion, light and goro are like funhouse mirror reflections of each other!!! one is a pampered lapdog getting a taste of rabies and letting loose, while the other is a starving wolf trying to domesticate itself for treats and headpats!! and i <3 them both!!!!!

anyways i may be wrong about light because im going purely off of fics, tumblr shitposts, and my own imagination :] feel free to school me in a way that won’t destroy my delusions!

[bluegarners]

getting a tiny bit tired of the adamancy of the new fanony-but-think-its-canon take of dick being the absolutely rage filled robin. like yes, kind of? he was 9, his whole world just ended before his eyes, and his only way to process was through grief and anger bc nobody was taking a child seriously. additionally, the only person who wanted to help him at that time was also a man who was filled with a similar grief and anger and had learned to channel it in a violent way. of course dick grayson as robin resembled something as "angry" or "rage-filled" but that wasn't him too?? like, how to explain it...

the reversal of the fanon trope of dick being the "sunshiny" robin into someone angry and violent and out for blood is not the helpful shift many people think it is when trying to understand dick grayson as a character as a child. so much of fandom is turning characters very flat and not allowing them to experience two things at the same time or in fluctuating variances. which is. counterintuitive when trying to construct a cognitive map about them. having linear lines drawn for a character and keeping them in direct parallel to others, never letting them cross or intermingle, does the opposite of deepening understanding and depth of character.

what a lot of the "hot takes" i see about this very pivotal moment in dick's life focus on the rage as a very ongoing thing. i myself have touched on it a few times in metas and fics, and although i do believe dick's relationship with anger and how he responds to it is important to understanding his character, i do not believe it is a core aspect of it. yes, dick was angry as robin. he was angry bc his parents were taken from him in a very violent way for something that dick had very little understanding of. these are things that are obviously understandable to be angry about. heck, anger would not begin to describe the kind of feeling at having everything you've ever known be stripped away from you by something you had no part in or control over

but anger is not who dick grayson's robin was. his entire character is centered around hope and kindness and giving second chances. his character is about forgiveness and so many people brush over that part when laser focusing on his anger over the man that killed his family. one of the first things dick did as robin was go after and beat his parents' murderer, but he also stopped. he didn't beat that man to the point of killing him and he didn't go after him again once the man was put in prison. that may not seem like such a monumental thing but dick grayson forgave the man who took everything away from him in that simple action of stopping

by pulling him away from his anger, bruce gave dick a second chance at a life beyond that. and in return, dick never forgot that lesson and actively worked on and added to it. he became better because of his anger by practicing kindness, exercising restraint, and learning from his mistakes when things went too far

dick grayson as robin is more than just the violent night he cemented himself as a vigilante by catching his first murderer. his robin is about moving past it and being a symbol of hope for others who are lost in similar ways, showing them that there is a path beyond the grief and rage. that there is hope and light at the end of the long tunnel and it's okay if a little guidance is needed along the way to get there

[sebastianswallows]

girldad!Feyd Headcanons

— WARNINGS: angst, but also fluff — A/N: In the canon, Feyd’s daughter with Margot was named Marie Fenring, and she dies a tragic death at quite a young age. This is going to be a completely self-indulgent fix-it. Enjoy ✨

Sure, he’s the most violent and unhinged madman this side of Gamma Waiping, but even Feyd knows there’s a time and place for everything.

The time being when the Atreides are defeated and the Emperor rewards him and he’s free to go after the Fenrings with his Harkonnen troops.

First, they find Count Hasimir, a frail little man with rodent-like features and thin greying hair. The Emperor’s oldest friend, and the best assassin in the known universe. Feyd knows better than to take him on in single combat, so he has his men deal with him while he goes after Margot.

He finds her in the furthest room of their castle past a cadre of guards that he makes short work of. She’s holding a little girl’s hand… Small and pale with thick dark ringlets, she looks just like he did as a child. He can tell even past the thick visor of the helm he wears — something made to not only protect but also block out sound. Margot knows it’s him just by his gait. She speaks, but it doesn’t matter. Her voice has no effect this time.

He sees the flash of a laser on the wall as his men join him and block the only exit. Feyd walks over to Margot, uncoils the little girl’s hand from hers, and takes her away. Lady Fenring will be brought to Kaitain to answer for her crimes against the once-young na-Baron. The Bene Gesserits, humbled after their near defeat on Arrakis, will not defend her actions — she has already served her purpose anyway.

The little girl looks up at him as they walk away with an unsettling and knowing light in her dark eyes. Feyd gazes down at her and, although she could not see his face, it was as if they’d always known each other.

But he also notices her little legs can hardly keep up with his stride. Oh, that’s right, children are smaller… He stops, kneels, and lifts her up into his arms as he carries her back to the ship.

He was actually nervous about taking off his helmet in front of her. What would she think of seeing a Harkonnen for the first time? They were so different from the soft and sunkissed people of the planet she was raised on…

But she had an eery calm to her even at the age of seven standard years. She regards him no differently than before and also does not acknowledge any need for reverence, even when he tells her who he is.

“Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.” “Hello.” “And what’s your name?” “Marie.”

He found himself genuinely shy when he informed her he was her father, and was all the more surprised to find an impish smile grow on her face. “I know.” Margot must have told her after all…

She doesn’t cry, she doesn’t seem afraid, but Feyd comforts her the whole way to their home planet. He pets her dark crown of curls as she sits beside him on the ship, supports her back when she drinks, and makes out of galactic maps the most unusual of toys to distract her with on the long journey back. None of it comes naturally to him and for the first time he has to think before he acts. It leaves his nerves rattled, but every time she looks up into his eyes and smiles so innocently he gains his calm again.

Giedi Prime was not the first place he had in mind for raising a child, but the other planets he could lay claim to — Lankiveil and Arrakis — were not great choices either. Now that he was Baron, this was where he had to be — at least until the Emperor decided who should govern Arrakis following the trouble with the Fremen. The Corrinos left a cadre of Mentats in charge to oversee the change for now.

She hates the planet at first, scrunching up her little face at the stark white light during the day, at the poisonous smoke, at the vast black wastes filled with petrol. Feyd engages an ecologist the first week Marie is there and plans a series of greenhouses for her with the best water filtration systems spice can buy.

“Why can’t the whole planet be like this?” she asks when he first shows it to her. They walk through young trees, Feyd dodging thin branches of raw red and green while his daughter skips ahead like a lamb. “Because it just can’t,” he mutters. “But why?” “Because it would cost too much.” “How much?” “I don’t know.” “Why not?”

A secret communication arrives to the Emperor inquiring whether he has room in his court for a new assassin now that Hasimir Fenring is gone.

His days are split between official duties, training in the arena, and playing with Marie. He discovers a part of himself again when he is with her — that innocent part that had been lost or buried when he first got to Giedi Prime. There is a satisfaction in making it for her a less brutal arrival, even a pleasant one.

He finds her laughing as she runs through the long halls, tugging on the lances of the guards — who look horrified at the sight of a playful child for the first time, but stay obediently still — and throwing rocks into the oil pools outside the palace to gawk at the pretty rainbow colours.

She loves the vaporous transparent gowns the servants wear, and the servants love her too. They dote on her, fearfully at first but more boldly when they notice Feyd’s approval. The retention rate goes up starkly at the palace, as does the average longevity.

Everyone is puzzled about what to do with her hair, but Marie teaches Feyd to braid it the way her mother did. She’s not shy about berating him either whenever he gets it wrong.

And most nights he falls asleep with her in one arm and a holographic storyreel in the other. He wants to be the sort of parent he only briefly had, the kind he vaguely remembers from his years on Lankiveil.

He dreams of his mother now more than he ever did, and wakes up feeling sorry for how much he falls short. He has no idea how to care for a child, no idea of how to raise her, but he knows he wants to try. Wants to succeed, for her. Marie might not have been an intended child, the way he was, but she was his own flesh and blood and he’d be damned before he made her feel unwanted.

His harpies love her, of course. But he fears they do a bit too much and dismisses them not one month after Marie arrives on the planet. While he’s never indulged, he can only imagine with a frightful shiver how sweet and tender a child’s flesh is.

To the consternation of his people, he flies in tutors from other planets for her. Philosophers from Ecaz, musicians from Chusuk, biologists from Lernaeus, and even a historian from Kaitain itself. She has a Mentat but no Bene Gesserit to serve in her education. His uncle had been wrong about a lot of things, but the scheming of witches was not one of them.

Her bedroom — more white and pale blue than the standard inky black, and decorated with pink ribbons — has a court of dollies on one side and toy swords on the other. Feyd’s love of weaponry does not escape her and, in her childish innocence, she’s fascinated by it all. He takes delight in this, of course, but worries too. Imagining his little child with blood on her hands scares him, and it makes him wonder what sort of person his uncle was to encourage it in him.

In loving her, Feyd’s never felt more unloved himself. Sure, he had his mother and father at one point, but all of that was taken from him when he was Marie’s age. Since then, nobody had cared about him, nobody had even wanted him unless it was to fulfil a purpose. Not his uncle, not his brother, not even Margot…

He comforted himself now that he’d spared Marie of such a fate. His little girl would not become a glorified breeding horse for the Bene Gesserits nor a pawn in the Emperor’s games. He would fill her life with all the things he never had.

Marie grows as the gardens grow, and Feyd begins to speak with the professor from Lernaeus and a retired planetologist from Acline about plans for terraforming Giedi Prime, and one day putting Marie in charge. Her lessons become more structured.

A fact to which she protests, but not for long. She is clever for her age, and understanding, and nobody can explain to her better than Feyd that, although learning can seem useless and boring compared to play, she needs to prepare for the years to come.

“You like the gardens, don’t you?” “Yes…” “And you like eating fruit, right?” “Yes, and smelling flowers.” “What if you could do that all the time, then? Not just in the greenhouses?”

She comes to like the skies of Giedi Prime as well, and the way fireworks look like ink blots. Her every birthday is marked with an array of black and white that make the sky a work of art.

Marie never asks to be the sort of Baroness that always lays around, because Feyd doesn’t do that either. As she grows older he starts to spend more time with her during the day, letting her sit in on meetings, and they debate for hours afterwards on what course the Barony should take. He finds she is more brave than he is, but more reckless too.

“No, little melon, we can’t just declare war on them.” “But why? You know they’re spying on us…” “Yes, but we have no proof.” “Of course we have proof. How would you know otherwise?” “Proof needs to be physical or recorded.” “Let’s record them spying, then.” “Well now they know that we know, so they will have a different approach.” “I still think war would end the problem faster. Or challenge them to a duel!” “I’m getting too old for this…”

They see more of the planet together too, venturing to the caves and crevices that run beneath the surface, taking samples of the native life bubbling in hot springs and collecting crystalline samples.

He takes her to Lankiveil for her fifteenth birthday and they sail together through its icy floes. She loves the sign of whales off in the distance and sounding the ship’s horn, although the local food leaves much to be desired.

“It smells weird.” “It’s fish.” “They stink…” “You want a salad instead?” “Yes, please…”

By the time she turns eighteen, the Emperor has decided to put Arrakis back into Harkonnen hands, and Feyd is terrified. As bad as Giedi Prime is, he wants to see her on Dune even less. Marie can tell this, observant as she is. She’s grown more quiet when she’s thinking and less rash with her decisions, but loud when she wants to be, and daring.

Feyd doesn’t know what to expect of Arrakis anymore and has mixed feelings about it, but he knows one thing for certain: anyone who’s a threat to his daughter there, dies.

“I’ll miss Giedi Prime,” she says as they’re approaching orbit. “It’s finally getting green in places, and rainclouds have begun to form…” “You can go back any time, you know,” says Feyd immediately. “I won’t keep you on this piece of hell…” “I’ll stay,” says Marie. She has the same strange determination she had in her eyes the day they met. “I heard it has old terraforming stations… I’ll want to visit them one day.”

It isn’t easy ruling a desert planet, even one that’s been subdued, but the new spice flow makes it worth it. Feyd keeps Marie close, teaches her everything, watches her grow, and soon she’s sent in delegations reporting to the Landsraad. She represents House Harkonnen better than her great uncle did — and, to Feyd’s pride, better than he ever could.

[ganondoodle]

it may not look like it but this took a long time to make

heres a rough ability breakdown for the totk rewrite project (i know its hard to read in the pic so let me clear it up and add some extra info)

theres two ability wheels now, sages are not frame rate killing glitch ghosts around you but their abilities are selected through the wheel on the right (pic is rough concept, it is clearer what is selected and what isnt + it has names in final version, symbols are placeholders as well) and bound to the player, when you acitvate it an aura appears similar to the arm abilities and their ghostly form appears besides you, charging or firing when you hit A while the ability is active

SHIEKAH ARM WHEEL

ANALYZE: zelda tells you info about targeted enemy/NPC, it gives you info about it and informs you more dynamically about important things than the foto-entries do

FOTO its fotos :) zelda joins selfies tho and does silly poses with you

REWIND: functions like the time recall in canon, but this time it is a more developed version of stasis instead

AMIIBO: its ... amiibo

HOOKSHOT: grab onto anything (perhaps restricted but not yet decided), you pull yourself+zelda to heavy stuff, light weight objects are pulled to you (including light enemies like bats or small slimes) grab onto something and hold onto it, usable like a vine (think, ww grappling hook) but with limited duration (battery power?)

AUTOBUILD: like in canon but it uses luminous stones if material isnt all there (or other material you put out to so its more versatile and you are more aware of what you have, no accidental spending then)

BUILD: similar to canon, but no glue (it kinda just fuses with no extra graphic unless pehaps like a bolt or sth), you put stuff together anyway you want; build is also used for weapons (no extra ability needed), you just build a weapon on the ground and pick it up afterwards (it has to be a weapon handle part and then sth else to it, otherwise it wont turn into a weapon)

INFUSE: infuse somethign with ancient energy, useless on normal objects usually(?) but reactivates broken or deactivated tech like elevators and doors; used to dynamically access caves and especially labs (labs serve a similar function as shrines, they are old shiekah labs that broke over time, puzzles are diverse things like traversal and little quests in which you help the researcher ghosts of the people that died in these labs (by the calamity, earthquakes, accidents, or killed by the royal army when their tech was banned and they refused to give it up)

SAGE WHEEL:

WIND GUST: same as in canon

LIGHT SHIELD/LIGHT LASER: zelda uses a shield of light to protect herself in combat, it does not affect the player (or perhaps only when you happen to be within range, which is small, this is more a character thing for her than useful for you) for the player through the selection wheel; aim and tell her to shoot a light laser like rauru did in the moldora cutscene in canon totk (a bit more dynamic) it deals very high damage to anything hit but has the highest cooldown of all abilities; deals extra damage to miasma enemies

THUNDERSTRIKE: similar as in canon, it charges through you however (so the charging only gets stopped if YOU shoot an arrow or get hit)

FIRE .. BOOM THING: similar as in canon but yuno has a little animation of daruks shield around him again :)

YIGA TELEPORT/KOGA CLONES (undecided yet): A: target a location in range and koga grabs you like a naughty kitten and teleports you both to the targetted location, you spawn in a little above ground giving you time to either perform a bullet time move or a sword attack from above B: summons a bunch of koga clones that serve as a distraction for enemies and combat support, they die in one hit (reference to kogas and monk moz kyoshias similar moveset; since there are no sage ghosts around you all the time and a max of two companions (zelda always, sage in sage dungeon) it serves as a replacment for that)

WATER ...WELL(?): sidon gives you a shield of water, elemental effect is applied to weapon and lasts as long as the shield does no matter how many times you attack; if it is hit by an enemy it breaks but you dont take damage; if the shield lasts it entire duration without getting hit it it grants you a percentage of your missing health back upon dissolving (ref to mipha healing powers anyone??)

im open to constructive feedback but overall im quite happy of makign it work out like that, although there are quite a few things that need polish i think this is both realistic and works well with what else i have been writing; remember tho, this is my rewrite so im undoing the things i dont like, like riju never being there when you need her bc she runs right up to the enemy and her losing her charge bc she keeps getting knocked over + overall uselessness of minerus robot (to me)

(totk rewritten project)

[noxturnalnymph]

Dancing is a Dangerous Game

(FrankieMorales  x  F!Stripper!Reader)

A/N & Warnings: Sexual Content below - 18+ only, Frankie doing what he do (iykyk), unspecified age gap (anywhere from 10-15 yrs), talk of stripping/dancing as a job that pays the bills. The photos on the Moodboard are just for fun, the female Reader is not specifically physically described so you can imagine her however you want. Thank you to @saradika for the divider.

Did I make this prompt up myself for me and some fellow writers? Yes. Did I set the word count limit? Also Yes. Did I stick anywhere even close to that limit? *laughs hysterically.

PROMPT: Pick a Pedge Daddy character - Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Dave York, etc. (it can be Canon or Non-Canon/AU/No Outbreak).

PPCU Daddy is surprised - and excited - to learn that the grad/postgrad student he hires to watch his child sometimes also works as a: stripper/dancer/cam-girl/onlyfans-model/dating-or-escort-service (or straight-up SW) 

*1000 word Minimum - 2000 word Maximum

WC: 4749  (I have a problem)

Frankie’s mouth was hanging open. He knew he should close it. He knew he looked like a weirdo. He knew he was about to get a “Catfish, lookin’ like a fish” joke from his friends. But for the life of him he couldn’t take his eyes off the stage, or close his gaping jaw.

Not since his babysitter walked on stage and started taking her clothes off.

To be fair, you're not his babysitter anymore. Not since he called you three weeks ago asking if you could babysit for him tonight and you broke the news to him that you'd gotten a new job and couldn't babysit anymore. At least now he understands why you left the not-so-lucrative world of babysitting for an arguably better-paying gig. 

You've only been dancing for two minutes and he already sees more money on the stage than he would've paid you to sit his kid tonight. He’s been watching as you undulate your body across the stage, bending and dipping, stripping down to your underwear. Even though part of him thinks he should, he definitely doesn’t look away when you divest yourself of your lacy little bra.

He always thought you were hot. He was a newly-single dad, interviewing you for a semi-regular babysitting gig. He tried to focus on your resume and your qualifications. He tried to breathe through his mouth so he couldn’t smell your delicate perfume. He tried to ignore the dewy pink lipgloss you had spread across your mouth, which is in stark contrast to the bright red lipstick you are currently sporting.

He was very motivated by the fact that you, as a graduate student in your mid-20’s, seemed more responsible to leave his kid with than the other applicants to his babysitting ad, all of whom were literal teenagers. But truth be told - you were also really fucking hot. Horny dad and the hot babysitter, what a fucking cliche he was.

However, in the eleven months you babysat for him, he never acted on his inappropriate attraction to you. He never treated you as anything other than an employee. You’d show up to his house, hair in a messy bun, wearing comfy clothes, ready to sit on the living room floor all evening playing with his kid. He was polite, and respectful, and was almost positive you never caught him staring at your tits.

Your tits that he’s most definitely staring at right now. Holy shit you have great tits.

“Fuckin’ A Fish, if you’re gonna keep your mouth open, you could at least pour some beer into it.”

“Huh?” Frankie snaps his head back to the table he’s sat at, surrounded by his friends. They all chuckle. 

“We’re about to order the next round and you didn’t even drink any of that one yet,” Benny says as he points to the dripping bottle in Frankie’s hand.

Oh, sorry, Frankie mumbles as he pushes the now-warm bottle to his lips and begins to drink the beer down, his eyes moving back to the stage. The entire club is lit only by colored lights that coordinate with the twirling lights and lasers pointed at the stage, pulsating to the tempo of the music you’ve picked. Fog rolls across the floor of the stage, cascading over the edge. 

There’s a single golden pole at an outcropping of the stage that you’re now gripping with both hands, sticking your ass out towards the audience and giving it a wiggle. You let go of the pole and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties. You slowly begin to push them down and just as the crack of your ass comes into view Frankie momentarily forgets that he can’t swallow liquid and breathe at the same time. 

He begins to sputter and cough, choking on the bubbly liquid and spurting it across the table onto the faces of half of his friends. He’s met with groans, curses, and several swats to the back of his head as he attempts to get his wheezing under control, and the fluid out of his trachea.

Santi, who somehow managed to avoid Frankie’s beer-foam projectile, slaps a palm on Frankie’s shoulder and says,

“Guys, Frankie’s real sorry, he’s just never seen a naked woman before.”

The laughter at Frankie’s expense serves as some form of forgiveness, and everyone slowly goes back to flirting with the wandering dancers and ordering their second round. Santi keeps his hand on Frankie’s shoulder and leans into Frankie’s personal space.

“You alright?” Santi asks, squeezing his friend’s shoulder firmly.

Frankie manages to mutter a strangled yeah before several rounds of trying to clear his throat. The lights have dimmed, sinking the club temporarily into a hazy darkness. He briefly registers that the song you were dancing to has ended, so you’ve most likely left the stage.

Santi laughs, shaking his head. He moves his mouth right to Frankie’s ear, almost whispering.

“When I convinced Will to have his bachelor party at this club I thought you’d be the one making your hot babysitter choke, not the other way around,” and he claps Frankie on the back hard, “if you know what I mean.”

Frankie’s eyes go wide as he meets Santi’s crooked grin, but his friend offers nothing more as he moves to the other side of the table, turning his devilish smile on the waitress. He orders two beers and three shots for each man, dismissing the groans of protest from the table. Bachelor Down!, he shouts at Will as everyone does their shots and chases them with cheap beer.

You approach the table full of men with seven other dancers, each of you assigned by the club to give a 20-minute private dance to one of the members of the bachelor party. You’re each in various states of dress, but most are only half-dressed. You’re back in your lacy underwear set - panties and bra - but the sheer nature of the fabric leaves little to the imagination. 

Your previous job as a part-time nanny worked while you were an undergrad. When you started law school it became too much and you had to switch to more infrequent evening babysitting gigs so you had your days free for school and studying. Unable to keep up with school payments you recently had to find something new. Something that only required night and weekend availability, but paid really well.

Enter: Stripping. 

You’ve only been doing this job for a little over a month but you’d quickly gotten very comfortable with being naked in front of strangers. You had your little dance routine and could easily make flirty banter with the club’s customers. Your boss was impressed enough that he’d started assigning you party gigs with some of the other girls, like this bachelor group.

You walk up to the group of strangers, the rest of the girls fan around the table as you’re left standing just behind a broad-shouldered man with a baseball cap on, curls sticking out from under the back strap. You turn to the man with a big smile on your face.

Holy Fuck. 

Not a Stranger.

It’s Francisco Morales. The hot dad you until-recently babysat for.

He looks at you sheepishly. Your hands immediately fly to cover your breasts, suddenly mortified that your nipples are showing through your nearly-transparent choice of outfit. 

“Mr. Morales!”

“Oh I- I already,” he begins to stutter. Is he telling you that he’s already seen your tits? 

You look around at the collection of empty beer bottles and shot glasses on the table and figure that they’ve all been here for much longer than just your dance. So covering your nipples does nothing for your modesty as hot dad has probably already seen everything. You drop your arms to your side, attempting to look relaxed and casual.

“So I-uh. I guess you found a babysitter for tonight.”

He laughs. He actually laughs at your awkward attempt at diffusing the tension. Thank god. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can say anything one of his friends is speaking to the group. He explains that “everyone gets a private dance” and no one can object - and he looks right at Mr. Morales when he says this - because “it’s all been paid for already.”

Following the lead of the other girls you gently grab Mr. Morales’ hand, missing the looks back and forth between him and his friend. You do your best to confidently lead him back to the private rooms with the rest of his group. There are a dozen rooms in the hallway and eight of them have been held in reserve for this bachelor party group. Pulling him inside the last room on the right, you close the door behind you. 

The room is dim, save for the red glow of the lights. The ceiling and floor are both painted black and the three walls without the door are mirrored. Towards the left is a single high-backed black leather chair facing a brass pole that sits in the exact center of the room. On the far side of the room is a curved loveseat against the wall.

This should be easy. Not just because this is your job but because unlike any other man you’ve ever led back here, this is a man you are extremely attracted to. 

This is a man you have fantasized about.

You’ve imagined his curls between your fingers when you’ve grabbed a fistful of a customer's hair, imagined that it’s his stubble scratching between your breasts when you’ve pressed them close. You’ve envisioned his wide chest as you ran your hands down their front, his massive paws in your hands as you’ve taken their sweaty palms and placed them on your rolling hips. 

You’ve wished they were his thighs that you were grinding your ass onto and his erection that you all-too-frequently felt pressing into you. That should make this easy. But instead you’re super fucking nervous. Even more nervous than your first night here, when you dragged your panties down your legs and bent over, exposing your pussy lips to a packed room of strangers. 

What makes you most nervous is probably that the fantasies didn’t stop in the club. It would be one thing if they were just here, serving as a comfort, self-soothing by putting a familiar face in place of a groping stranger’s face. But that’s not the truth. You’ve imagined him at home too. 

In the shower, pretending your hands were his hands as you pinched and plucked at your wet nipples. Daydreaming about his weight on top of you, fucking into you, as you drove one of your toys in and out of your wet cunt. 

And if you’re being perfectly honest, you can admit that it’s been going on for almost a year, since shortly after he hired you to be his babysitter. Remembering the times you’d made yourself come on his couch, hours after his kid had fallen asleep, waiting for him to return home from a night out with his friends. Your hand stuffed down the front of your pants, petting your clit to the thought of him on his knees in front of you.

You never thought you’d actually be naked in front of your fantasy-DILF. This is like being slapped in the face with your own wet dreams. This is kind of a nightmare.

“Listen, you don’t have to-” he begins just as you start to speak as well.

“Mr. Morales I know-” and you both stop and let out breathy, nervous laughs.

“C-Can you please stop calling me Mr. Morales?”

“Oh sorry! Is that weird?”

“It sounds like the start of a bad porno,” he groans, laughing again. “Please just call me Frankie.”

“Of course, I’m so sorry Mist- Frankie. Sorry. Frankie.”

You both break out in laughter again, loudly this time, hoping to finally diffuse some of the tension. A knock sounds at the door and a deep voice - security - asks if everything is alright. You shout back that everything is fine and the room quiets down.

“I should start the music and get going,” you say quietly, motioning for him to sit on the curved red velvet seat against the far wall.

You press a button above his head and music starts up, the first of three songs forming a 10-minute loop that will repeat for this booking. You look into the mirrored wall to your left and notice how nervous you look. Then you meet his eyes in the mirror. Why does he look just as nervous?

You straddle one of his legs and shakily reach back to undo the clasp on your bra. You meet his eyes again. Fuck he can see how your hands are shaking. You look like such a fucking kid. A goddamn amateur. This is going to be the least-sexy lapdance he’s ever been given. 

You can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips when you suddenly feel his hot hands covering yours at your back. 

“You can leave this on if you’d be more comfortable,” he says softly, barely heard over the pumping bass of the music.

“No I’m fine, I’m just…” you don’t know how to explain to him without embarrassing yourself but suddenly you’re making an admission and the word-vomit has left your mouth before you can even do anything to stop it. “I just always thought you were hot.” 

There it is. It’s out there now. 

He opens his mouth to say something and your nerves bubble up and come out as more words and why the fuck are you talking more?

“I know, I know,” you spit out before he can get a word in, “the babysitter thirsting after the hot dad, how prosaic, right? Talk about a bad porno.”

His warm hands still touching you, he slowly moves his fingers around yours, deftly undoing the clasp of your bra for you.

“It’s okay, I kinda… thought you were hot too,” his admission slips out in a whisper.

You really want to kiss him right now. But that would be a very bad idea. Security patrols the hallway and the door has a small window towards the top of it. It allows security to peek inside and see from the shoulders up. Usually if they can see your shoulders, all is good. If they can’t see your shoulders, it gives them an idea if rules are being broken or if the girls need help. 

Kissing - among other things - is against the rules.

You barely turn to look at the windowed door but you’re embarrassed to think that Frankie must know what you’re thinking because it’s like he can read your mind. Or maybe he’s just thinking about kissing you too? Either way he puts his hands back down to his sides and lets you lean into him, allowing your bra to slowly shift down your shoulders until it falls into his lap.

Your tits are right in his face. You’re half naked in front of the hot dad whose child you used to babysit. The hot dad who you’ve pictured doing this exact thing with - and more. But he’s not even looking at your tits. He’s looking you right in your eyes and making you feel more naked than you’ve ever been in your whole life.

He shouldn’t be here, not doing this, not with you. He should ask for a different girl. He should tell the security guy to kick him out. He’s making you so uncomfortable, he can tell by your twitching movements and halting breaths. He can’t stop staring at you like he’s some kind of lonely creep, what a fucking weirdo he’s being.

You position your legs on the outside of his, keeping his legs slightly open and his hands obediently face-down on the couch next to him. You’re straddling him but hovering above his lap, seemingly careful not to touch him. When you put your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself you begin to stiffly roll your body towards and then away from him.

He doesn’t know where to look. He can’t keep looking at your face, he knows the eye-contact is getting very disturbing. Why the hell did he tell you he kinda thought you were hot too? At least he didn’t admit the truth, that he thought you were fucking supernova-hot. He’s had to bite his tongue countless times to stop from asking you out.

He focuses his eyes at the hollow dip that lies at the base of your throat. It has a dance of its own, moving slightly with your pulse and rolling with your shallow breaths, the rise and fall of your chest a baseline rhythm. He tries not to think about your bare breasts just below, breasts that he’s thought about putting his hands on every single time you’ve walked into his house for the last year. 

He can see your deep red lips in his peripheral vision, and immediately the image of those lips on his skin is conjured. He pictures a chaste kiss planted on his cheek followed by a less-chaste thought of his thumb pressed into your mouth, your eyes looking up at him while your lips leave a red ring on his hand. He needs to fucking calm down. This is just a dance. You’re at work doing your literal job.

He suddenly notices you’ve almost completely stopped moving. He looks up at your face and you’re wearing a tight, pained expression. His brows furrow. Oh no. What’s wrong? Is his erection noticable? Is he creeping you out too badly? Do you want him to leave? He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but you silence him with a gentle squeeze to his shoulders.

“I think I’m gonna die if you don’t touch me,” you squeak out in a strained whisper.

In the back of his head a part of him thinks that he shouldn’t immediately cave. It shouldn’t be this easy. Part of him thinks he should need more than just you saying that. 

But he doesn’t. At all.

He slowly slides his body down the sofa, pushing his frame between your legs. You move your feet apart to accommodate his wide shoulders once you realize he won’t fit otherwise. He stops when his ass is sitting on the floor and his head is just above the seat of the sofa, you towering over him. He reaches down and begins to take off your platform heels one at a time. 

As your bare feet hit the floor you run your hands up your neck, over your face, and through your hair, your knees knocking at his shoulders. Touching you gently with only two fingers on each hand, he pushes on the backs of your thighs, guiding you even closer to his face. He grabs your feet and holds them in his hands, forcing your legs to fold and pushing your knees past his ears as his head rests back on the seat.

You’re kneeling at the edge of the sofa, shins on the cushion, feet dangling over his shoulders, your toes curled in his massive hands on his chest, and his head between your thighs. Your face still looks uneasy, and he can just make out whining noises over the music. High-pitched and breathy, the way a dog would beg for scraps at the dinner table.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna touch you now,” he growls.

You grab the brim of his hat and twist it off his head, immediately diving your fingers into his locks. He squeezes your toes and you take his cue, lifting your hips and canting them towards his waiting mouth. Latching his mouth onto your underwear, he runs his tongue up and down your covered seam. 

He feels you begin to rock your hips into his face, rolling your body above him. Any security who looked in the window would see your shoulders moving to the beat and assume you were kneeling on the couch and giving a lap dance. He can only barely see you from his angle, sees the lace of your panties, sees your wrists grabbing at his hair.

Letting go of one of your feet, he grabs at your wrist, dragging your hand from his head to the front of your own underwear. You run your fingers down yourself, parting them around his mouth, letting his tongue tangle in them. Then you grab the edge of the gusset and pull it to the side.

Wasting no time, he immediately begins to lick at your folds, tasting the wetness that has gathered there. A lot of wetness. Christ, you’re so fucking wet. His nose touches just below your clit and a string of your arousal attaches him to you when he pulls back slightly.

A slight pause in the music has his heart stop and his stomach in his throat. After a couple seconds - that seem to stretch on forever - the first song begins playing again, restarting what must be a looped set of music. 

That must mean this private dance-time is halfway over. Ten minutes left but since you two probably started after everyone else you might not have the full ten minutes of privacy if his friends decide to burst in the door. Which, if they’re led by Santi, is a real possibility.

Less than ten minutes. No problem.

You must also feel the sense of urgency because you adjust your hand that is holding your panties to the side. You take your thumb and pointer finger and move them over yourself, parting your lips to open yourself more to him and pulling up slightly, exposing your nub. He flattens his tongue in response and drags it over your sensitive bundle, noting the way your body trembles when he does so.

He knows he doesn’t have the time to edge you as he’d like to, but he can’t help himself when he moves his head lower and twists his tongue into your hole, thrusting it into you. You are bouncing yourself slightly up and down, helping him fuck yourself on his tongue. He feels your wetness pouring over his lips and dripping down through his whiskers.

He feels your hand leave your own body and tangle back in his curls along with your other one, grabbing two fistfuls of hair tightly in your grip. Having had enough of his teasing you’re apparently deciding to take matters into your own hands.

Frankie loves eating pussy but this? This might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

He angles his head perfectly, opens his mouth, and sticks his tongue out stiffly as you begin to grind your pussy against his face. You’re using his nose, his tongue, his chin, even the bristles of his facial hair. You’re using whatever you can to get yourself off as you ride his face. It takes everything in his power not to break out in a giant smile.

He doesn’t hear you, you’re still being the quietest you’ve been since you got in this room, but he feels it. Shit, does he ever feel it. He feels your body tense, then your legs quiver, feels the pulsing in your cunt as you press yourself firm into his still-open mouth. He gently laps up your gushing orgasm as you release the grip on his hair and whimper softly above him.

Knowing you’re short on time, he has you climb off him much sooner than he’d like you to. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and then yours go wide. You bend down and grab his hat, plopping it back on his head and attempting to tame his just-fucked-hair back underneath it. You run to the corner of the room and grab a small robe hanging on a hook, skipping back over and roughly wiping his face off with it the way you would a toddler after a meal.

He quickly adjusts himself, tucking his protruding hardness under his belt in an attempt to conceal it as he watches you adjust your askew panties. Still topless, you throw the robe back towards the corner in a panic just as there is a quick knock at the door. Without a signal to enter the door flies open anyways, no less than three of his friends bursting through the doorway drunkenly, shots in hand for Frankie to partake in.

They make Frankie drink the shots before he even leaves the room and then they drag him away from you, hollering obnoxiously. All he can manage is an apologetic look over his shoulder as he hears the final song finally come to an end. Time’s up. Luckily you’re laughing at their antics and don’t seem to be upset. Maybe you were just flirting with him because that’s your job. Maybe you just wanted a good tip.

A tip! Shit.

Being dragged down the hallway Frankie grabs Santi by the arm and asks in his ear how much he should tip you. Santi says he usually tips $200. Frankie is shocked that a 20 minute dance would garner that big of a tip, but then again it’s been a long time since he’s been at a place like this. And to be fair, you - albeit unknowingly - let him fulfill a long-time fantasy of his.

$200 is more than he would have paid you to watch his kid tonight. No wonder you’re not his babysitter anymore. He fishes around in his wallet and takes out all the cash he has, $236. He manages to break off from the group of guys after they do another couple shots and he looks around for you. 

Unable to find you he spots one of the girls you came to the table with and she lets him know you’re on a break but she can get the tip to you. He hands her the folded bills and she thanks him by leaning in and giving him a peck on the cheek. When she pulls back from him she widens her eyes at him and flashes him a knowing smile.

“I’m sure she’s very appreciative… of the tip,” she winks.

Frankie tries not to blush and resists the urge to high-tail it to the bathroom and wash his face off, opting instead to keep the scent of you on him. He returns to the table of his too-drunk-to-notice friends and finishes out the night of revelry.

.

3:03am

Hey

Hi

3:06am

Sorry

3:09am

You’re probably asleep

3:10am

Hi

I’m just getting home actually

3:11am

Oh cool me too

Sorry to bother 

I just wanted to make sure you got your tip

I left it with your friend

3:14am

I did, yes. Thank you so much.

3:14am

Cool 👍

3:16am

Don’t take this the wrong way…

But how drunk were you tonight?

3:18am

Idk

Why?

What did I do?

I’m so sorry

3:19am

No, don’t be sorry!

I’m not trying to be rude.

I just….

Did you mean to tip me that amount?

3:25am

Oh my god

Was it not enough?

I can give you more

I’m really sorry

Do you have Venmo?

3:27am

No! OMG. It was plenty!

Literally the most I’ve ever been tipped is like 40%

You tipped me 118%

3:30am

Oh

3:31am

Yeah so I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get too drunk

And accidentally just give me everything in your wallet

3:35am

Is that what happened?

3:37am

Because I can Venmo some money back to you

It’s really not a problem

3:40am

Sorry no

I just tipped what my friend told me to

3:41am

Well I checked with the other girls….

NONE of your friends tipped that much

And they were all very generous!

3:44am

But none as generous as you

3:45am

He’s such an asshole

I’m sorry

I didn’t know

I feel like an idiot

3:46am

Again, please don’t be sorry

It was VERY generous of you

And I’m very grateful

3:50am

I was in a giving mood tonight I suppose

3:51am

Mr. Morales, is that you being flirty?

3:53am

Oh we’re back to Mr. Morales now?

3:55am

Can you get a babysitter on Wednesday night?

3:55am

I don’t have custody this week so no babysitter needed

Why?

3:56am

We should go out to dinner

3:57am

Oh we should?

3:59am

Yeah we should

Frankie

4:01am

MY treat

4:01am

LOL I should hope so!

4:02am

Pick me up at 7 😉

4:02am

I will

See you Wednesday