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bluecollarmcandtf · 20 hours

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Typical Day For a Bouncer

I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!

Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.

Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.

Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.

I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.

"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.

"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?

"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.

"Of course, sir."

There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!

"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.

I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.

The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.

"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.

"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.

"Yes, sir."

I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.

That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.

"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.

"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."

"No you don't!" the boy interjects.

"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."

"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"

"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.

Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.

"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.

Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.

"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.

"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.

Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.

"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.

"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.

"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."

I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."

"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."

I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.

He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.

"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.

"Yes, sir."

My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.

"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"

"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.

As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?

Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.

Now I'm acting like a dog!

Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.

I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?

There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?

"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.

"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.

Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.

#hypno story #mind control #gay mind control #gay ai art #hypnotized #servant

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yan-batgirl · 3 days

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Hii!❤️🖤

This is my first request ever, and sorry if it's not really something you feel like writing, but I really live your writing style and I think that you write the boys the best! (And this thoughts been eating away at my brain for a bit)

So what if the bat's take in a little reader who seems super innocent and she (it doesn't have to be a she if ya don't want) has Deadpool's healing abilities. Like she just casually gets a limb cut off in a fight trying to protect one of the boys and she acts like nothing really is wrong- or she gets shot in the head and sits up a minute later and straight up laughs seeing everyone's sheer panic because she has the same mindset as a gremlin wanting to thrive in the chaos. Do ya think the boys will let her go on missions with them due to her not being able to die? Or will they try (and probably fail) to lock her away in the manor for her own good?

Warnings: Yandere, manipulation, a little bit of blood, accidentally hurting someone, using powers for the wrong people

Spoilers for my original Batgirl story!

After your father was banished and your mother imprisoned, you were now under the roof of the League of Assassins, living with Lady Shiva. Throughout your life, you've been treated like an outcast by basically everyone at that exact area she had to spend your childhood at.

During those times, something felt strange about you.

Whenever one of the assassins came back injured, you curiously stepped forward them and placed your hand onto their wound. The next second, it was gone. The wound.

The next thing happening is you being in the medical bay, in the room full of injured assassins.

One of them told you to touch an injured assassin with a damaged leg. You were hesitant, but you were forced to step forward and place your hand onto the leg. The next second, it was healed.

You were then tested to see what kind of symptoms you have, and the results turned out that you have the ability to heal any kind of injury once you touch it.

Every time when an injured assassin comes back from a job, Shiva would make you stop what you are doing and quickly place your hand on that bloody part of their body, disgusting or not.

However, there are some side effects to your special abilities.

Each time you heal a person, your energy will decrease rapidly, which means you can't heal more and more people.

Eventually, you grew of being used like this. So, you decided to run away.

It was basically a risk of your life, but you eventually made it out of the city of 'Eth Alth'eban and tried to find yourself a new home.

As soon as you landed in Gotham City, you were basically trying to hide yourself from the world. You tried hiding yourself in various abandoned buildings, alleyways, etc.

Until you found a tall figure looming over your crouched form.

"Are you alright?"

The deep voice asks as he reaches out to you, which makes you jolt away and hide behind some trash bags.

However, the figure pulled your small frame out of your hiding spot and held you like an injured kitten.

"It seems that you've been out here for quite a long time. Come on, let me bring you home."

He tells you before he walks off with you, shaking in his arms as he makes a call.

"Alfred, bring everyone back at the manor. We finally found her."

~~~~~

I'm sorry if this was too short!

#yandere #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batgirl reader #batfam #batfamily #yandere dc #platonic #yandere platonic #yandere x reader #x child reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 days

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WIBTA if I reminded a friend he owes me money?

@aitathrowaway321 for finding later

I (20s, they/them) lent a friend Johnny (fake name. 20s, he/him) about $300 for rent about a year and a half ago. He was panicking because he'd bought a small tattoo that week, and had thought he'd budgeted for rent, but realized he forgot about another bill.

I'd once not had enough for rent and a friend who wasn't well off, without me asking, had offered to lend me the money for rent. It had been an incredibly kind act, and though I'd paid that friend back a few months later the first second I could, I've always remembered it. So I offered to do the same to Johnny (who knew this story) as a sort of pay-it-forward and that he could just pay me back when he was able, no rush at all. I also at the time had an okay job where I made enough to be able to do this, and Johnny's job was pretty awful.

Johnny was very thankful and agreed. At first, he'd bring up the debt a lot himself (I would never bring it up) and continually promise to pay it when he could, to which I'd be like - just as soon as you comfortably can, don't stress! And he mentioned it A LOT. Multiple times every single time I saw him at first. But eventually he stopped mentioning it entirely.

The two of us had this in-joke, and Johnny realized he could buy something related to the in-joke. He swore he'd buy it for me as a birthday gift (I didn't ask) and it would be so much fun, very soon after I lent him money. It would have been a nice gift, but it would've cost at least $200. In my head I decided that if he decided to get me the gift instead of paying me back I'd be happy either way, bc it's nice to be thought of. All I said aloud was that it would be a lot of fun, and it was a very kind thought from him. He would then regularly bring up buying me this gift for months. Then my birthday passed and I didn't get anything at all from him. Which was fine, I didn't ask for gifts! But then he stopped bringing up buying me anything OR paying back the money.

Now it's been almost a year and a half, and he seems to have entirely forgotten he ever owed me. I wouldn't mind so much - times are hard! - and it's not like I'm going to be angry if someone is spending money on nice dinners and pretty clothes instead of saving up for a no-deadline debt to a friend. People need to have nice things to get through life. But he keeps getting new tattoos and piercings (we go to the same parlor, I know they're pricey) and he recently planned and went on a big trip with a friend. It's not as if he hasn't had the ability to pay me back in the last few years. I also got laid off from my job, and $300 is a lot more to me than it used to be.

It's not so much that I want the money back as it is that I'm hurt he spent so much time talking big about paying me, and then when enough time had passed just dropped it entirely. I've had an issue in the past when after I got an okay job, suddenly people who had ghosted me were begging me for money (didn't know my salary but just assumed bc of the job title). And having been in awful situations, I tried to help where I could anyway, but then after getting the money they'd ghost me again. Johnny hasn't ghosted me, but he seems to have decided not to pay me back and pretend it never happened.

We have an event coming up where people will be paying for things and everyone else will be paying them back immediately - just bc it's easier to do things like buy tickets all at once and then pass them out, and easier for a restaurant to have one bill and then people venmo each other after. I was considering having Johnny pay and then tell him he can take it out of his debt to me.

I'm unsure if this is passive aggressive and rude, or if it's a good way to gently remind him he owes me without being a jerk about money - if he is still just struggling financially and hasn't forgotten, I don't want to rub anything in or make him stressed. I don't want money to ruin a friendship, but I'm feeling hurt.

#aita #am i the asshole

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tsams-confessions · 3 days

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We're coming off anon with this one boys. It's long and I apologize but it's been weighing on my mind for quite some time.

There are three things people tend to know me for in this fandom. My art, my fanfics, or my thread on TSBS server. Said thread is a place where I talk about the psychological aspects of the show, as well as do character analyses and sometimes even analyze entire lore uploads for the kicks and giggles. I'm a psychology major, I also have ASPD. I made the thread so I could talk about Eclipse, who at the time I suspected had the same disorder I do and which was later confirmed less than a week after I made the thread. Since then Ruin has also been confirmed as an ASPD haver, which I personally deeply enjoy. It's fun for me to talk about my disorder and relate it to the show since ASPD is really hard to understand. 99% of people are inherently capable of empathy, and about 2% of that 98% lose that ability during childhood. So it's understandably not a very well-understood disorder. It's also a very scary and dark disorder, and I can say that honestly because I live with it. Due to this fact, it tends to be villainized in media, and I am very refreshed by the fact that TSAMS does a good job of not making their ASPD havers raving lunatics with a thirst for blood.

Anyways, that's just background information. So far I haven't met very many weirdos about ASPD in this fandom. Almost everyone is very chill with the fact that I am a sociopath and I haven't received a ton of weird comments about it. It's a relief since I deal with a lot of open stigma and harassment irl because I refuse to pretend to be something I'm not. However, there was an instance in my thread when I was actively talking about ASPD, and a new member decided to. . . I don't even know. It was creepy and weird, and really uncomfortable. They basically told me that I'm 'too nice of a person to be a sociopath' and that they could tell that I wasn't a sociopath because they see the good in people. They also said that they were surprised that there are sociopathic people and inferred that sociopaths are pretending, whatever that means. They kept going to keep making weird and stigmatized comments about the disorder, as well as continuing to compliment me in a very unnerving way. I think about it a lot because it was very uncomfortable to be interrupted like that in the middle of talking about ASPD. There was the new mod online and participating in the conversation, but they didn't say anything to the person who was actively making me uncomfortable, even though I expressed such in the chat.

I deal with a lot of stigma and ableism in my day-to-day life, where people tell me that I can't be a sociopath because of really stupid shit. Like the fact, I get along with people or want to help people in the medical field. Or the time-tried 'but you're a woman' comments. I don't understand why the mod kinda just left me to fend for myself and ignored the person causing issues, and while I don't hold it against them, I do have anxiety about this situation repeating itself in the future. It's not easy to talk about a disorder that the average person could not even dream of understanding, and it's even harder when people who don't know you are trying to tell you that your disorder is fake based on flimsy reasoning. It's really invalidating of the actual hellscape I had to survive to be able to even turn 18, and it rakes up my anxiety to a 10 just at the thought of it. There's not a lot of safe spaces for someone to talk about having a dark disorder, and even less for something as rare and misunderstood as ASPD. It's hard enough as it is being a high-functioning sociopath, and I just needed to rant, I suppose. Haha, could make it a "tl;dr even I get offended sometimes."

Anyway, not dropping names, but it wasn't a private matter. Nor am I upset with the mods, it's just a thing that happened that I think about a lot because it's a very rare thing for me to be offended. Glad that the majority of this fandom that I've interacted with has been willing to hear me out ASPD, but I just worry about having a repeat situation like this. It's a very sad thing to witness in this fandom that talks about inclusivity. We can't pick and choose our disorders, and where there are canon sociopaths in the show one would think the fans would try to be a little more educated on the disorder (not directed towards anyone and I appreciate the people who are willing to ask me things about it instead of making assumptions).

#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams confession #< block this if you dont want to see these #mod 1blood #ableism cw

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annwrites · 12 hours

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exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt 1

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.

— tags: conversing, getting to know one another

— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification

— word count: 6.2k

— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.

Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!

The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.

Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?

You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.

You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.

People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.

Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.

When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.

You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."

He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."

You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.

Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."

In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."

"Did you eat already?"

You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."

He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.

"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"

Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."

He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.

You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."

You look at him. "Ok..."

The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"

You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.

"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."

He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"

You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."

Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.

You shrug. "It's fine."

He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.

"Do you know anything about her?"

You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."

Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.

He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.

Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.

"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.

You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.

Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.

You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.

"Turn around."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.

Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.

You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.

When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.

You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."

You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.

"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.

"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."

"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.

Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."

You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."

"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."

You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.

"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.

Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.

"Just what?" Lexi prods.

"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."

Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.

Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."

Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.

"What do you mean by abusive?"

She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."

Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.

He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.

You put your things away, then look to Nate.

In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.

"You ready?"

You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.

Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.

Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.

You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.

Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.

It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.

But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.

He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.

And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.

He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.

“Do you sleep with this?”

Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”

He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.

In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.

He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.

Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.

And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.

It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.

You need him.

You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.

He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.

He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”

You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”

He nods.

He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.

He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.

He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.

You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.

He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.

He closes the doors in front of him.

What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.

He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.

He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.

Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.

He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.

He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.

And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.

Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.

You walk over, sitting in it.

He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.

“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”

You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”

He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.

You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?

And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.

You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.

He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.

He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.

“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”

You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.

If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.

“What if it wasn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”

You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.

“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.

“You won’t.”

You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?

You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”

He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”

“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”

He grows silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

“So…what’s your favorite color?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”

Somehow it seems fitting for him.

He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”

He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”

You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”

He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”

“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”

He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”

Your brows furrow. “Who?”

“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”

“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.

He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”

Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.

“How come we were never friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”

You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”

“You know what they say: opposites attract.”

You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.

He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”

To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.

“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”

“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.

“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.

“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”

Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.

So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.

“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.

"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”

Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.

And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.

“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.

“Psychotic?”

You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”

He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.

“Have you ever dated before?”

You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”

He looks over at you. “Never?”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”

His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.

It surprises him.

“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.

You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”

He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.

No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.

He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?

God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.

But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”

You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”

He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”

You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.

You clear your throat. “My turn.”

He lays back again.

“Can I ask about your dad?”

He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”

“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.

Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.

He stands and you fill with guilt.

You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.

“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”

He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.

Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.

Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.

He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”

You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”

He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.

“Like what?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”

You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”

“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.

You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.

You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”

He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.

“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”

You gently take the dress from him.

He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”

Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.

While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.

He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.

When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.

You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.

You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.

He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”

You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.

He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.

You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.

He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.

He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?

He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.

You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.

Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.

He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.

“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”

“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.

He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.

Today will be one step closer to getting that future.

He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.

He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.

Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x reader

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stars-n-spice · 3 days

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Silly Squad Alignment Charts

Because I thought it would be fun and silly :)

Find out more about the Silly Squad here!

Of course, have to start with the classic:

Hunter will say they have food at home and it's literally like probably two slices of bread, a bottle of ketchup, and a head of lettuce

Viram KNOWS how to cook so you best be happy to eat her food instead of having Mcdonalds

Khea and Echo it depends on their mood whether they pull up and order a single black coffee before leaving (Echo would never do it if Omega is in the car)

Crosshair doesn't even like their coffee but he does it to be a little shit

Feel like Tech is also kinda in the middle because he'll be like "Technically we have food at home-" but he also needs his caffeine

Phee will ALWAYS pull up to the Mcdonalds, especially when Omega's with her. Then Omega always holds it over Hunter- "Well, PHEE takes ME to Mcdonalds!"

Tay is the definition of a bastard (no seriously)

Phee is bastard (affectionate) but would technically be more of "Badass" than anything

Khea, Crosshair, and Tech are the Bitch Trio and if you put them in a room together they WILL tear each other apart (emotionally most likely but Tech will goad Crosshair and Khea into physically fighting each other while he records)

Majority of the squad is Babey though

Echo is also "Bad Ass" but he could also be a Bitch if he wanted

Hunter is Bastard just because I think it's funny

Dumb Bitch Hunter my beloved <3

Echo is sad dick because he has no dick

I use dumb affectionately with Wrecker (not with Hunter and Tay)

Tech just has big dick energy to me idk

Khea's a sad hoe but she'll never admit to it (the being sad part)

If you've noticed, I really like making fun of Hunter that's why he's there in the dumbass squared category

Wrecker, Khea, and Phee are all smart as fuck but have more fun pretending that they aren't really

Tay is good at pretending that he is smart - he is not

Then of course, Tech, Cross, and Echo are all smartasses

This fit so perfectly I was dying

Hunter is laughing nervously because he's aroace lmao

Omega would be like "Thanks! :D" and just carry on

Jung would most likely do *thumbs up* instead of finger guns though

When you pair up the couples, it's funnier

If Tay said "I know" after Cross told him that he loved him, Crosshair would dump him on the spot

Khea tells Wrecker she loves him for the first time and he short circuits and probably would say something along the lines of "YEET!"

Viram and Echo both have issues and would not be able to comprehend why someone would love them - I'm sure Echo's got insecurities and Viram knows she's a workaholic and therefore difficult to be in a relationship so she apologies in advance

If Phee told Tech she loved him and he went "a horrible decision, really" she'd probably laugh

And of course, who doesn't love Phee? If you don't, get out of here.

Crosshair could care less, he ain't dealing with that shit

Tech would say this ominously as if he's seen the future and knows your death is imminent meanwhile Khea's is more of a - "you probably will because everyone close to me has already died" sort of way :/

I feel like Omega might also be "i'd die for you first" too

Hunter, Viram, and Echo don't want to deal with that shit either, they've already got so much loss, guilt, and other things on their plate

Tay's probably not listening when someone tells him they'd die for him while Phee's like, "Oh, neat. Anyways, as I was saying about my last adventure-"

Jung is ready and willing to put his life on the line and Wrecker would probably more like a "Nu uh" because he's got your back and would look out for you

Phee will also do it for some credits or a cool treasure

Tay is going to fight god (and he's going to lose)

Tech could do so much more than take down the government, but he needs incentives (him and Phee can take down the government together <3)

Khea is a bounty hunter, her job literally requires her to stab people sometimes in order for her to get money

Crosshair would stab without anyone needing to ask him

Echo's taking down the government no matter what, but especially if Rex asks him to come along

Jung is going to fight god if you ask them to (and he'll win)

Viram is the type of friend who is an excellent tutor and you end up understanding the concept after getting her help meanwhile Omega will explain what she knows and then the homework becomes a group project of figuring out what the fuck it's asking

You can copy Hunter's homework but there is no guarantee that the answers are right (most of them are wrong)

You can copy Jung's homework and there's a high chance the answers are right

Khea had better things to do than homework - like get frustrated over it and cry for a bit before giving up on it

Phee did some of the homework but she'll only help you out if you give her something in exchange

Wrecker and Tay, beloved himbos, they had no idea and even if they did do the homework, you wouldn't want to copy off of them

Crosshair also didn't do the homework but he also doesn't want to respond

Tech and Echo both did the homework and it's correct but they don't tolerate copying work to even have suggested it is offensive so now you're left on read

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nin-carab-nidh-madt · 2 days

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I have thought on Jadzia Dax from Star Trek Deep Space 9.

I'm currently rewatching the show (midway season 2), probably my 4th watch through over 8 years? My first time with slightly more youtube-essay-driven media analysis skills. I'm enjoying picking up on a lot more things than I used to but there's one thing that bugs me above all else.

Jadzia Dax doesn't really have a strongly defined character that shines through.

I've spent a while thinking about it. Obviously as a science officer its a little harder to tell stories the audience can understand and relate to compared to Odo's murder investigating or Sisko's exasperated diplomacy, but her stories have issues greater than that.

Both the stories centred on Dax, in season 1 where she stands trial for a crime supposedly committed by a former host, and in season 2 where someone tries to steal her symbiont, are about things that happen to Dax. Not the things Dax does. She is neither the perspective character through which we can see the world of Star Trek, with her own unique views and feelings, nor is she the one actively moving the plot forwards. She's either the victim who sacrifices herselr or quite literally refuses to do anything. Unfortunately this is quite a common failing of writing that's easy to fall into, writing about a character instead of the character making decisions that drive the plot. Its one that sci fi writing at the time seemed to do quite often with a lot (but not all) female characters. Ivanova and Talia from Babylon 5 fall victim to this too, especially in early seasons. In contrast, Major Kira, and even Ezri Dax later on have stronger characterisation and are the centre of their own stories.

I doubt this was intentional, its clear through the successes of writing other characters in the show that the writers, actors, and showrunners are trying to make everyone alive and meaningful, so what went wrong?

Looking at Jadzia Dax's character, I think what's clearly missing is a strong drive for her character. No real desires or vulnerabilities. No questions either. To provide constrasting examples:

Odo (who gets almost too much screen time in season 1) is clearly driven by a sense of justice no matter whatever starfleet rules say. He's in constant conflict with Quark, ever vigilant, somewhat isolated from other people. No one ever asks "Why does Odo do what he does?" His motivations are clear, and they even tie it up with an extra motive that's very plot relevant: the mystery of where he comes from. All things a single episode writer can use and explore.

Major Kira has her own conflict with starfleet, her desire to do right by her own people, to get justice for Bajor, and always stand up for the underdog which creates really good stories as she struggles with her own values and constantly has to make choices that affect the story.

Bashir wants acclaim, accomplishment, romance, and also for everyone to like him. Quark wants profit without putting himself at risk. O'Brien wants to just do his job and go home to his family. Sisko wants to hold everything together with the responsibility of peace and reason on his shoulders while singlehandedly raising his son. Jake wants community, friends, and freedom in his life. Funnily enough Ezri Dax has far better drive. Trying to figure out what she wants in life, handling this enormous change and overwhelming personality, and her own lack of confidence that she's useful to anyone sometimes. She grows and changes more over the course of a season than we ever see in early seasons Jadzia.

What does Jadzia Dax want?

I think in attempting to make a wise 300 year old person who's seen everything, they accidentally wrote themselves into a corner. Jadzia has no strong motivations to do much at all. She does fine as a secondary character, and I love how her friendship with Sisko plays out on screen, but beyond being surprisingly enlightened about a lot of things as the result of age and experience there's no drive there.

And so no drive or motivation, and no stories told from her perspective. We have ourselves a problem.

I thought for a while if I could find a solution to the issue rather than just offer criticism. I originally tried writing an outline for an episode. Jadzia would be a fantastic protagonist for any wacky sci fi short story concept that required a scientist to explore, such as time travel paradoxes, simulations, weird space anomolies that do "plot relevant thing" that she would be perfectly posed to actually explore instead of "technobabble and tap console" until the problem is solved.

Then I decided that all we really needed to have a framework any writer could use is to establish a strong character motivation for her. Here's my shot at it.

Jadzia Dax, in harmony with seven lifetimes of experience, is an extremely competent twenty seven year old woman. She can almost certainly do the job of anyone on the station better than they can. Fix a computer? Better than O'Brien can. First aid? She's there and solved the issue before Julian can get there. Solve a murder? A past host was an invesigator of course she can to Odo's chagrin. She has better ideas of what Sisko can do to bring the Bajorans towards the federation. Hell she's the best representative of federation values on that station and could constantly be presenting that of the story.

Dax struggles to hold herself back when she sees her friends failing at what she can solve the problem for them. She tries not to, that's what her training tells her to do. But out here on the edge of Federation space where there's constantly lives on the line? She finds herself interfering in other people's work more and more often. She just doesn't want it do be done wrong. She pushes herself hard to do too many jobs. She doesn't sleep or eat enough while telling everyone else to take care of themselves better. After a while people start relying on her. It turns from her helping to her having those responsibilities. Pilot. Diplomat. Linguist. Researcher. Mechanic. Leader. So much emotional support for her friends because everything they're suffering she's been through herself. It becomes too much for her and you could make the core of one story her just crashing. Learning how to balance her experience with giving room to other to shine through and solve their own problems, which they're very capable of doing. There's plenty more detail to elaborate on but I think this gives a core drive and conflict that lasts a character a couple of seasons at least to explore and grow through.

I happily invite thoughts as to whether my original observations are astute, or wether you think there aren't any problems with how Jadzia's passivity plays out in the show. If you think there are problems, do you think my perscribed solution helps fix them? How would you go about it?

#star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #jadzia dax #babylon 5 #writing

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galaxywarp · 2 days

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your addiction recovery has been a bit of a spark of hope for me. I'm a functional alcoholic. a few people close to me have mentioned that i "drink a bit much", but they dont know the extent. I can still keep up appearances, but the cracks are starting to show. I know alcohol is not as dangerous as the stuff you used to have, but it reassuring to see someone else make that turnaround and how open youve been about the struggle to resist. I feel like I'm either going to fuck everything up or find a way to recover soon. all I know is that the scales are going to weigh one way or the other soon cause they wont stay still much longer

Hey hey hey. First of all. I strongly disagree with the notion that alcohol isn’t as dangerous as drugs. Even the drugs I was on. Even heroin and meth. Let me tell you I was in rehab with dozens and dozens of alcoholics and their stories were just as brutal as mine. Alcoholism kills and the withdrawal is brutal and I just wanna say that first because I don’t want you undermining your own demons in comparison with mine

That aside. I feel you. I really do. I was able to keep the mask on for a long long time when I was using. I still had a job, still graduated college, still kept up appearances well enough that my loved ones didn’t know what was happening until I hit my breaking point and everything started going nuts

It’s a lonely and scary place to be. I’m sorry you’re there right now. But it’s good you recognize it. It’s important that you recognize that there is a problem

Obviously I encourage you to get help and seek recovery but also I know that’s a lot. And I know it took me a long time and a lot of relapses to get here. Remember that too. Relapses happen

I don’t know how much you’re drinking but be careful if you ever plan on going cold turkey. The withdrawal is genuinely dangerous and you may need to either ween yourself or seek medical detox

Thanks for being here. Stay safe

#asks

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lovecolibri · 3 days

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And yet if it was all questions related to Tommy they wouldn’t have a concern in the world. They like to say stop making it about buddie, and that it should be about just Buck, but then they turn right around and make it all about Tommy and his perfection. But like you said, asking about buddie is asking about bi Buck. And not to mention buddie is 6 years worth of history at this point. And we’ve learned enough the last few days to know a big portion of bucks bi sexuality was in tandom with Eddie. There is next to nothing to go off of in terms of things related to Buck Tommy. They have had a single kiss and a bad date. That’s it. Interviews would get like one question out of that and then end of topic.

Yeah, I just don't get the hype 🤷🏻‍♀️ Which is normal, I'm a chronic mono-shipper so I just avoid ships that aren't for me and block tags and such. But it's hard because right now there is a LOT of mis/cross tagging so I'm trying to just stay in my bubble.

But yeah, it's weird that people are both saying this should ONLY be about Buck but are also mad that it's not more about Tommy. He's a side character whose job is to move the plot forward, and there are lots of other storylines going on that are going to get the focus in upcoming weeks, and they haven't shot the last couple episodes yet so what is Oliver supposed to say? If there are only a couple more scenes with him and Lou coming up while the storyline focuses on Madney, Bobby, and Henren, he won't want to spoil them. If they already have maped out where the relationship reaches its natural end, he's not going to spoil that either but also won't want to super hype up a relationship he knows isn't going to last. He HAS made a point to say he hopes Tommy can stick around as a friend which to me says that the cast enjoys working with Lou and the audience has been mostly receptive so it's a good character for the show to keep in their back pocket as a recurring guest.

But Buddie??? Oliver has YEARS of pent up Buddie stuff he didn't feel like he could talk about, especially after FOX shut down the storyline, and that he's talking about it now tells me conversations have been had with him, Ryan, Tim, and the network about what possibilities are open to them and likely a broad timeline/plan. Which is of course, subject to change as we saw with this originally being planned for Eddie but due to actress availability, got shuffled around but I don't think they would be clearing these questions and Oliver especially would be answering so freely if he didn't feel like it's where things are eventually heading. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, I think it's important to remember it's a STORY and so of COURSE people are pulling in threads from previous seasons and connecting the dots because that's what you do with stories. And from the first moment Buck sees Eddie and doesn't quite know what that feeling is that he's getting, it's all been tied up in Eddie, with the show reinforcing that relationship at every turn. Why WOULDN'T people make it about Buddie when the story itself tells us it always has been? I just don't always get the "these stories have to be entirely separate from each other" because beyond all else Buck and Eddie are best friends. Of course their stories are going to include each other and be intertwined! And if Buck is looking at his life with new eyes or Eddie is examining what he actually wants in a partner for himself, why WOULDN'T they examine their relationship with each other since it's the most prominent one they have?

ANYWAY

*i just have a lot of feelings.gif*

#my sweet nonnie friends #911 #buddie

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angelicnymph · 14 hours

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♟Mafia Boyfriend Geto Suguru comforting you during your period♟

!!Cw: Slight Mafia mention, Both reader and Suguru are consenting adults, no kidnapping involved, reader voluntarily went to Suguru, abusive family.

NOTE: You are still living at your old house with your family.

Kindly please support me by liking and reblogging my posts. It helps a lot. <3

You woke up this morning feeling something wet dripping in your underwear. You quickly went to the bathroom and took a warm shower, pour hot water in your hot bag and flop back to bed as you were in excruciating pain due to your cramps. You curled yourself into a ball, and fell asleep.

You woke up again in the afternoon and exchanged texts with your boyfriend. He apologised that he wasn't available this morning as he went on a mission. You shrugged it away and told him it was alright as you could manage your period.

18 00

You got out of your room, passing by the living room to go to the bathroom to do your business when you heard your bitchy aunt mentioning your name.

"You see Y/n could have done the job. After all, she just laid on her bed all day doing nothing.",

upon hearing this from your aunt, knowing she brought this up because she knew you were passing down and could hear her, your anger got the best of you. Your hormones were kicking you as well. You were in excruciating pain since this morning.. you were tossing around in your bed, hell you could barely make it to the bathroom without fainting.

"Well if you checked up on me, you would see why I was laying on my bed whole day. I was in pain."

You were going to rant on more to her but you decided to cut your conversation short as she would only give you a migraine with her bitchy attitude.

You went to the bathroom, did your business and then went to your room and started overthinking about your recent interaction with your aunt.

Just then, like an angel, your boyfriend, Suguru, called you.

Suguru: Hello Princess. How are you doing ? Is it paining too much?

You: Hi baby. Uhm it's- it's okay.

Suguru: Baby. Dont lie to me. Tell me what's going on? Is it that aunt of yours again?

Suguru: That bitch!

Suguru: Baby. Do me a favour. You know that convenience store in your locality ?

You: Yeah. What about it?

Suguru: Come.

You: What? Baby you are here?

Suguru: Yes sweetheart. Thought I'd just come to see your pretty face but given the recent incidents, I'm taking you with me babe. Ain't no way I'm letting my girl spend her vulnerable days in such a shitty house with a bitchy family. I'll be waiting for you Princess.

With that, you both cut the call as you took a small bag, put your necessary underwears, pad, a few other essentials. You didn't bother to bring clothes except a few comfortable nightwears as you already had a few t-shirts at Suguru's, more like his t-shirts which he gave you.

You quickly made your way to the convenience store as you spot a familiar man with a halfbun, long hair draping over his back leaning over a familiar range rover.

You couldn't bear it anymore as you launch yourself in his arms. Fortunately, Suguru parked a bit further away in the dark where people wouldn't really spot you both.

You held him tight as you buried your face in his chest as you cried your heart out and ramble everything to him, while he just hug you tight, pressing kisses on your forehead and whispering "it's okay" "I'm here now" "I'll take care of you" to you softly.

He waited for you calm down by yourself as you pulled away from him sniffing with glossy eyes, his arms still tight on your waist. He looked at you for a few seconds before pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

"You feeling better baby?"

You just nodded as he took your small bag, took a peak inside and put it in his car.

"Do you need anything more princess? Are you having a particular cravings?"

You simply whispered no.

"Hmm okay. Let's get in the car then baby.", he said as he opened the door to the passenger seat. You climbed inside as he quickly went to the driver seat. He reached a bag from the backseat as he gave it to you.

You looked inside as you saw your usual period cravings and the tampon/pad you used in the correct size. You simply smiled as you looked at him, noticing that he was already looking at you.

You leaned to hug him again which he gladly obliged as he pressed a kiss on your forehead, another one your nose and finally one your lips before you both pulled away and Suguru fastened your seat belt before fastening his and he took off.

While Suguru was driving, you texted your mom that you went to stay with Suguru. Your mom knew your relationship with Suguru and was supportive about it given how much hardships you go through with your other family members and she knew how much you deserved to be with Suguru.

You put you phone in the cup holder as you finished texting your mom and sighed as you looked outside the window.

Suguru reached a hand on your thigh giving it a squeeze as you looked at him.

"Thank you so much Suguru. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Baby it's okay. Afterall what kind of man would I be if I let my girlfriend suffer in such a shitty environment? You don't deserve this babe. You deserve so so much better. "

The rest of the ride was silent with the music playing in the background as you looked outside and Suguru focused on the road.

Suguru knew that as much as you crave contact, you needed mental space sometimes so he did provide it to you. But he also let you know that he's there by constantly keeping his hand on your thigh.

20 15

You both reached Suguru's penthouse in the City as he parked his car and get you out of the car.

He quickly gave you your bag and the other bag containing the things he brought for you before scooping you in his arms and carrying you upstairs claiming that he doesn't want to let you climb the stairs because he's the man.

He let you down as soon as you both reached the kitchen as he told you to make yourself home.

"Baby did you eat yet?"

"Uh not really. But I'm kind of craving potato Wedges and I was hoping if I could bake some?"

"Oh- how about you go have a shower and I bake you some?"

You insisted that he went shower first given that he was working all day but he simply urged you to go first and that's how you found yourself having a hot steamy shower while he was preparing your potatoes.

You came back to the kitchen in a pair of shorts and Suguru's old t-shirt. Suguru quickly saw you as you ran into his arms once again. He kissed your cheek as he told you he's going to take a shower and if you could just bring out the baked potato Wedges once it was ready.

You sat on the counter of the kitchen watching tiktoks before the oven clicked and you took out the potato Wedges.

That's when you noticed the smoothie in the blender. You assumed that it was protein smoothie for Suguru which he was preparing as the smoothie was still cold.

You poured the smoothie in a beer glass and you brought the blender to the sink.

As you were washing it, you felt someone behind you and before you could tell anything, you felt a hot water bag pressed to your tummy.

"What's my princess doing?" he whispered in your ear.

"Was just washing the blender."

"Oh- my protein shake is ready.", Suguru said as he took at the glass of protein shake on the counter and drank it.

You looked at him as he was drinking the protein shake as he raised an eyebrow at you.

"You want some?"

"Yeah. I was actually craving some milk."

Suguru smirked at you as he got out a shot glass and poured some for you as he handed it to you and continued drinking his own.

You looked at the shot glass and then drank it up. It was thick.

"That's not milk."

"It is. I just mixed oats and protein powder with it."

Suguru said as he finished drinking his protein shake and put it in the sink.

You put yours too and was going to wash it as Suguru stopped you and started washing it himself.

"Take the Wedges and go sit on the sofa baby. Pick a movie."

You complied to him as you went to the sofa and picked a random movie as he came to you not so long after. You both shared the Wedges as you watched the movie, occasionally laughing and giggling and throwing comments about the film.

As soon as you finished eating, Suguru paused the movie and took you to the bathroom where he passed you a new toothbrush and toothpaste as you both carried on with your night routine.

You both then returned to the living room to continue your movie. You snuggled to him as you loved his body warmth, it was better than your water bottle. You cling onto him like a koala as he circled his arm around you and started massaging the knots in your belly, providing you comfort. Your eyes started feeling heavy listening to his heartbeats as your head was on his chest as well.

22 15

It didn't take long for you to fall asleep as Suguru switched off the TV and picked you up and went to his bedroom. He removed his shirt as he wanted to provide you much body warmth as he could, checked if your water bottle was still warm enough and then slid behind you and spooned you.

You sighed in content in your sleep due to the surrounding warmth as Suguru turned off the lamps and pressed a kiss on your nape and drifted to sleep himself.

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