#others thoughts are appreciated because I hope I’m not the only person that feels isolated by the community

[malewifehenrycooldown]

Slightly long, ramble vent-ish post but also some negative observations of the wider self ship community that has been bothering me a little bit.

sometimes I don’t want to be in the self ship community anymore (not that I considered myself part of it from the beginning) because said the community creates these small pocket communities of the same people interacting with each other and that’s fair and totally fine!

It’s just that up to a certain point, these pocket communities start to create an isolating and alien environment for newcomers and this is not helped by the community’s genuinely bad communication skills. Like I genuinely wonder how many blogs have deactivated due to lack of interactivity (a whole can of worms no one likes talking about apparently. HI REBLOG:LIKE RATIO) and the overwhelmingly intimidating environment for younger folks (teens - early 20s) to navigate, especially people who may not be as critical or conscious of the media they consume (and don’t understand how they could be harming people through consuming specific pieces of fiction). I remember one person straight up left due to the lack of communication and it really, really sucks because just an open conversation can really ease peoples fears and worries. People just should not have to feel like walking on eggshells all the damn time in the community and if they feel that way then there is something SEVERELY WRONG with this community but no one cares to address it

Like I’ve already left a few self discord servers, and blocked some users, and now I just don’t see any point really being in the community anymore, because there’s been multiple occasions when I’ve interacted with a user and then it turns out that said user probably has some personal issues they need to sort out, but constantly deflect blame or disregard anyone’s advice to change their actions/attitudes for the better or that they really need to get actual professional help. Like obviously we should call out bad behaviour but also know that you should encourage these people to change saidd behaviours for the better.

Idk maybe I’m cursed on tumblr to interact with people who turn out to be not that great or I’m just too naive because I believe that people are inherently good. Maybe I’m a fool for wanting to see the good in people and wanting to support them, all at the cost of me ignoring all the red flags that are obviously in front of me. Which to be fair is probably reasonable; fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me for not knowing better I should have heeded the red flags when I saw them. /serious

#shallow rambles #shallow vents #/ not about anymone #I guess also because tumblr is a bit of a polarising platform which probably doesn’t help #a few early former mutuals turn out to be not great people :/ #it probably doesn’t help that I am a conflict avoider and this sort of shit triggers my fight or flight response #idk man. maybe I’ll just stay in my bubble tbh #that and also I’ve noticed there’s some cult of Personality type shit happening too in the self ship community but I don’t think people #are ready to have that conversation yet 🧍‍♀️ #don’t expect me to do promos anymore tbh I don’t really see the point in them anymore #others thoughts are appreciated because I hope I’m not the only person that feels isolated by the community #like I have a life outside of the internet. i have more important things to do than worry about the ‘community’ #like obviously. gatekeep this shit from pro/shippers and alt right/hateful/bigoted people. #but like don’t make good folks in your community have to walk on eggshells all the time #this is not a sob story or anything these are just my thoughts and stuff #<- ​/gen serious #I’m just so tired of this community #nothing is fun anymore tbh and really it’s just more so a chore now… #when i come back I might clean out my posts and followers to keep a minimal audience #it might get better idk. #thoughts on queue #scheduled post: waiting in line

[celtic-crossbow]

The Rhythm of this Trembling Heart

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France)

Warnings: None

Summary: There isn’t anything Daryl wouldn’t do for you.

A/N: Happy (late) Halloween. Sorry it’s late. Regardless, the song attached is what I imagined toward the end. You’ll know it when you read it.

Halloween was in full swing! The community was alive with music and activities and best of all: costumes! Some were brought back from supply runs while others were handmade. Kids were out engaging in the age old tradition of trick-or-treat. It was surreal. 

It was just past dark, the activities for the younger ones winding down while celebrations for adults were just beginning. Several smaller parties were happening in individual residences but the masquerade ball— Ezekiel’s idea, of course— was where most were attending. 

But not Daryl. 

He was out making sure everything was safe while the adults of the community were otherwise occupied. There were guards on duty but he had special people here that he just couldn’t leave their safety to anyone other than himself. Jude and RJ were at their individual friends’ homes. Carol was at the ball. He didn’t know if you were going. While everyone else had been planning their attire, you had volunteered to help sew costumes for the kids. 

He had never been much for Halloween. No costumes or candy, just bruises and shouting matches. When he was older, it was pizza, beer, and maybe a movie. He could see the appeal if he really thought about it. One night to be anyone or anything else. He could definitely get behind that. 

“Yo, Dixon!”

He paused mid-step, hoping to god that the voice he’d heard was in his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Princess. She was a good person with a good heart. She was just… a lot. 

“I know you hear me, man!”

With a sigh, he finally stopped and turned, giving her a nod in greeting while she bounced up to him with her usual attempt at a hug, stopping with her hands up when he stepped back. 

“Still not a hugger. Respected.”  She was dressed in a black gown, frilly and lacy, but with her own Princess touch of pink rhinestones pressed into the waist and collar. Her hair was pinned up with a pink ribbon weaving throughout. “You’re not really dressed for the party. I mean, I guess you could wear that as long as you have a mask but it wouldn’t take much to guess who you are and that’s kinda the point of—”

Daryl raised his palms as well as his eyebrows, already exasperated. “Ain’t goin’ but hope ya have a good time.” With a squeeze to her shoulder and a curt nod, he turned to take his leave. 

“Y/N’s gonna be there.” 

He found himself stopping again, looking back over his shoulder. Princess was leaning out like she had expected his reaction, a huge grin on her pretty face. 

“So?” He tried to act like he didn’t care when he really wanted to know everything. Daryl cared deeply for you, having been close to you since the quarry. You had been the only person other than Carol to refuse letting him isolate himself, the only difference being Carol encouraged him to be a part of the group whereas you plopped yourself right down in his space and refused to leave. 

His feelings toward you had only intensified over the years. It used to make him uncomfortable because he didn’t understand it. He feared it. So, he had pushed you away, but you never strayed far. You had always been waiting for him with open arms, ready to forgive and forget. 

He was still scared, truth be told. It was the only reason he hadn’t had a very important conversation with you and asked you to be his. 

“So.” Princess mocked in a deep voice before laughing at herself and waving a dismissive hand. “I’m just playin’, man. Anyone with eyes can see you got it bad, dude!”

“I don’t got—”

“Don’t even try.” She shook her head with a little more enthusiasm than necessary. “Go change. Come to the party. She’ll appreciate the hell out of that.”

“Don’t do costumes. Even if I did, I ain’t got none.” He shrugged. Daryl and social events were not allies. He wouldn’t even know where to start for something like this. 

“Oh, I gotcha, man.” She held her Venetian stick mask up over her eyes with a daunting smile. “Just leave it all to me.”

How had he let Princess, of all people, talk him into this? 

She had all but dragged him back to her apartment, telling him to shower while she went through the rejected items she had picked for Mercer. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his entire life. 

Well, that is, until he was standing in front of the mirror while she adjusted the white mask, hiding the bands expertly within his hair, which she had combed and slicked back. 

“This is a masterpiece.” She was staring, wide-eyed and big-grinned, rubbing her hands together like she had just successfully animated Frankenstein’s monster. 

Daryl’s eyebrows shot up, though he could only see one. The mask covered the right side of his face. She had him in a white button-up and black slacks. The black boots were shiny and he hated that the black gloves actually covered his fingers. Almost everything was at least one size too big but manageable. Still, nothing made his lip curl more than the cape she had secured beneath the collar of the shirt. 

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere in this shit.”

“Oh, come on, man. It’s very Phantom of the Opera!” Princess beamed. 

Daryl scowled even harder. “I definitely ain’t goin’ nowhere in this shit.” 

“Dude, I’m telling you, she’s gonna swoon when she sees you. And you’ll match her!” She argued, absently plucking at the edge of the cape. 

“Ya seen her?” The archer met her eyes in the mirror. 

“Oh yeah. She looked—” Princess kissed her fingertips and thrust them outward in a chef’s kiss. 

Daryl’s eyes moved back to his own reflection and he sighed. He was about to make an absolute fool of himself, but at least he was doing it for you. 

He was on his third cigarette. Princess had wished him luck and already disappeared through the door to find Mercer, leaving Daryl alone with his thoughts and anxiety. What if you were there with someone? Princess didn’t seem to think so but the last thing he wanted to do was fuck up your evening. 

He tapped his gloved fingertips against the wall behind him, the other hand plucking the smoke from between his lips to flick it away. It was time to find his balls and go inside. If he didn’t, he looked like an idiot and he was a pussy. 

With a deep breath, he ascended the stairs to the door, nodding back at the guy who opened it for him. 

“Hey, Dixon. Have fun in there!”

“Fun. Right.” Daryl saved his confused expression for once the door had closed behind him. The guy had worked with him under Mercer. He couldn’t understand why there hadn’t been immediate laughter and punchlines at his expense. 

“Daryl?”

He raised his eyes to find Carol lowering her stick mask. She looked beautiful, her blue gown simple but elegant. Her hair had been styled delicately, the short curls even more defined than usual. 

“Uhh, yeah. S’me.” He scratched a nonexistent itch on the back of his neck. “Ya look pretty.”

“Thank you but let’s talk about you. Who did this cause I know it wasn’t you.”

The archer tried to wrinkle his nose in a sneer but it was difficult with the mask pressed to one side of his face. “Ya don’t think I could do this myself?” Carol put her hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. “Was Princess.” He admitted rather quickly, his nerves wearing a hole through his chest. 

The silver haired woman gave him a gentle smile, reaching out to squeeze his bicep. “She did good.” Her name was called from somewhere in the crowd, her head turning so she could search. “Try to have some fun.” She took his hand and gave it a squeeze before heading into the main room where people were all standing around talking, aside from those dancing in the very middle. 

He watched as Carol made her way around the outside of the crowd, pausing to lean into a tight circle. He recognized Gabriel immediately. Even at a masquerade party, he wore that god awful hat. Daryl could barely see who Carol was speaking with, but she was leaned in close and, to his horror, was looking directly at him as she spoke. She winked and held her mask up, walking away just as you leaned out and locked gazes with him. The way your face lit up made his heart stutter and his stomach do cartwheels. 

You turned to apparently excuse yourself and then you were heading to him. Princess had been right. 

You were a fucking vision. 

Your dress was black, with a bouffant style skirt and corset top. The thin straps could be seen under lace that covered your arms and dipped into a v at your neck. Your hair was piled atop your head with elegant curls hanging down in places, accenting the black lace Venetian mask attached to your face with a ribbon that disappeared into your hair. 

“Daryl?” You beamed, your heels click-clacking on the shiny floor. “Daryl, you look amazing!” You laughed, the smile brighter than he’d ever seen it. The archer had utterly forgotten how to form words, completely lost in the ethereal beauty standing in front of him. You laughed again and touched his forearm. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah!” He answered suddenly before clearing his throat. “Yeah, m’good. You, uh—ya look—” He trailed off when suddenly words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘gorgeous’ didn’t seem good enough to describe you. “Wow.”

“Pfft.” You chuckled, closing in to give him a hug. “I can’t believe you came. This is the best Halloween ever!” Daryl didn’t waste any time returning the embrace. He could smell your shampoo and whatever product you had used to style your hair. Vanilla. “Come on, let’s go hang out with everyone! They’ve gotta see this!”

You took his hand in yours and pulled but he didn’t move. When you looked back, he was staring at the crowd behind you with a painful look of uncertainty. Your eyes softened, understanding that just standing where he was had to be ridiculously outside of his comfort zone. You weren’t sure why he had come but you were damn sure not going to let it be a bad experience for him. Biting your lip, you glanced at the door leading to the upper level. 

“Do you trust me?” You asked him, squeezing his hand. 

“More than anyone.” He replied quickly but quietly. 

“Good!” You pulled him toward the door and away from the crowd, leaning out to make sure the security guards weren’t watching. Finding them agonizing over what hors d’oeuvres they might want from the tray, you opened the door and ushered Daryl in first before following and quietly closing it. You couldn’t suppress your hushed giggles as the two of you ascended the stairs, even finding yourself shushing him when he hadn’t made a single sound. “How’s this? Better?”

The upper level balcony overlooked the ballroom below, the acoustics allowing the music to be heard clearly but not the chatter of the crowd. Daryl leaned over to look over the people below, but quickly stepped back so as not to be noticed. 

“Much better.”

“Good.” You said, plopping down on an expensive looking chaise sofa to remove your heels. “My feet are killing me.” When the archer simply nodded, you pursed your lips over a barely contained smile. “Come here.” You said, actually moving toward him before he could comply. “I know you are hating this thing, so since I took off my shoes…” you trailed off, pulling the string that secured the cape. It pooled on the ground behind his feet. 

“Feel at least like I may deserve my balls back now.” He gave you a small half smile when you laughed and smacked his chest. When silence fell again, you found yourself just watching him and him, you. 

“Dance with me?”

His eyes widened, the side of his face that you could see turning a pale pink. “I don’t dance.”

“Can’t?”

“Don’t.”

“You do now.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him a little closer to the middle of the balcony, encircling your arms around his neck. He gave you a look that lasted only a moment before his hands landed on your waist. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a simple slow rocking like you see teenagers do at prom. Still, it had your heart fluttering. “I’m glad you came.” 

“Me too.”

“What made you decide to, anyway?” You tilted your head, looking up at him while your fingers toyed with his hair. He didn’t answer. He just stared at you. 

Oh. 

“You did all this for me?” 

He didn’t trust his voice so he simply nodded. 

“Daryl?”

“Yeah?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.” Your eyes flitted down to his lips and back up to his eyes. He didn’t give you the chance. He closed the distance between you and pressed his mouth to yours. It was gentle, almost seeming shy, but it was perfect. All too soon, you separated, your wet eyes sparkling as you watched him for any signs of regret. 

You found none. 

Throughout, you had never stopped dancing. It was maybe the most perfect first kiss you could have ever imagined.

“I lied. Now, it’s the best Halloween ever.” You sniffled with a smile, laying your head against his shoulder. 

“Yeah. It sure is.” He agreed. You felt his cheek rest on the top of your head. “Tell anyone an’ I’ll still hafta kill ya.”

“What? That you kissed me?”

“Nah, that I was dancin’.”

You laughed and kissed him again. 

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #happy halloween #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl fluff #daryl dixon fluff #daryl twd #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl dixon #Spotify

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 16

Summary: After your talk with Roman, Jess gives him some friendly advice. And Logan is now deciding on who to throw under the bus for the scandal. Based off of S2 E10 and S3 E1

TW: Mental health issues, NSFW (oral) 18+

Word Count: 4.6K

Notes: Sorry again for the slower updates. Bigger things are being planned for the story so bare with me.

Chapter 16: ken is def bd

Jess had just gotten back onto the yacht after making a trip out to the land to just explore. She saw Roman as he sulked. Roman had decided to just remain by himself, avoiding others, trying to distract himself from the massive fuck up he had put himself through. Jess would’ve never thought she’d do this for Roman in a million years, but she couldn’t help herself. She slowly walked to Roman, hoping not to startle him. “Hey, you guys talk?” She asked him.

Roman removed his sunglasses, looking at Jess completely defeated. “Fucking yeah- uh- yeah we did. She doesn’t wanna hear it.” He decided to open up rather than push. The trip to Turkey had made Roman realize the way he pushed and didn’t talk about his feelings really put him in difficult situations. Any day could be his last.

“I’m sorry- what happened?” She sat down, trying to get all the details. There was no way she was going to get any of these details from you. Roman blew air out, trying to recollect every detail of the conversation to only cut it short enough. “Well- she said she doesn’t love me anymore. That it was before.” He tried to slowly remember all your words. He heard Jess scoff, rolling her eyes. “Bull-fucking-shit.” Jess lightly laughed to herself at how ridiculous the idea was. She had sat right next to you and was lying down. She saw your gaze behind your sunglasses. They were constantly on Roman. You just wouldn’t stop staring. You panicked and nearly had a meltdown because of his trip. You isolated yourself from the court hearings because Roman didn’t need you there. You mentioned him a lot. You would just bring up a funny thing Roman did weeks ago while hanging out with Jess or remember little moments that reminded you of Roman. You were still very much deeply in love with him. Whether you admit it or not.

“Yeah- well, that’s what she said. Uh-so, she said I can’t be forgiven easily. And this could never be what it was.” He shrugged, playing with the corners of his sunglasses. He fidgeted a lot while talking. He just stared off, trying to calm his thoughts. He didn’t know how you did it for him so easily. “That’s just- honestly, it’s just y/n telling you to chase. Just bug her. She’ll scream and yell at you, but trust me, she wants you to chase. She loves to lie about ‘leave me alone’, but as soon as you do, she’s not happy you didn’t run and slam her doors down for her to forgive you. She’s an attached avoidant. It’s her way of- don’t even fucking know.” Jess shrugged, trying to explain your personality to Roman. Jess has seen you do this with everyone; Friends, boyfriends, and family. You would scream at your friends, go hide, and then expect them to come to you. But when they didn’t you told Jess and villainized them. You expected your family to eventually come back. You don’t want them back anymore. The timing has been too long.

“I’m just glad you made y/n actually happy for a bit. I would hate for her to lose that. Despite my distain for you Roman.” Jess admitted. Roman appreciated the sentiment. “Fucking whatever- uh while you’re here and y/n isn’t. Can you get me a beer or something?” Roman teased. Jess flipped him off before leaving him alone. Roman now knew you better. He wasn’t going to let up.

The entire family was set at the table, including the older staff and you and Jess. Roman had made sure to save you a spot and fill the rest of the table up before you had come in with Jess. You took your seat next to him, waiting for Kendall and Logan to make their entrance in. “So, do you think they’re throwing little Greggy into the ringer?” Roman asked the table. Greg shifted in his seat, looking around nervously. “Hey man, not fucking cool- okay? I mean- just...” But he was cut off once Logan and Kendall entered. Roman just laughed at Greg’s anxieties being so present on his face. Logan had finally announced who would take the blame and have to step away from the company. Kendall. No one could speak. The air felt thick, and it felt as though even though all our hearts raced, they were all matching. Your stomach felt disgusted. You looked at Kendall, sympathizing for hearing Roman beginning to protest for his brother. He was the only one to do so. No one wanted to sacrifice themselves to Logan or the company. It was better if Kendall dealt with it then them because… well, it wasn’t them. Roman felt like it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t let it happen. Someone else was responsible and Kendall should have no part in being blamed for it.

But Kendall already accepted his fate. In fact, he stepped up to it. “Hey, it’s okay. Guys, you’re off the hook.” He cleared his throat as he put a napkin in his lap. No one was going to be able to eat after this. You had completely lost your appetite. Roman couldn’t believe what had just happened. His older brother, someone he saw being set up for greatness has just taken a nosedive. Roman leaned in and asked Kendall “You okay?” He couldn’t trust Kendall’s judgment. He knew how much the company meant to him. And for him not to be a part of it anymore, Roman knew it would destroy Kendall.

Kendall tried to put on a brave face and lied about being fine. But everyone knew this was going to become a spiraling downward spiral for Kendall. He was nothing without Waystar. His whole life was set up for Waystar. You put a hand on Roman’s shoulder, trying to relax him Everyone just then began to ask for themselves. Roman and Shiv didn’t bother to ask for themselves. Just kept quiet. Before Logan announced the new Chief Operating Officer.

Roman.

He was shaken at all the news being through his way. He was happy, but so devasted at the same time. He just let out a heavy breath, unsure what to do or say.

Shiv took the news hard. Roman didn’t even want to believe the news, assuming he’d be watched over by Frank. But Logan promised it was the real deal. Roman was now COO. It was finally the real deal. His dad hadn’t been lying to him this whole time like everyone said. It was never Shiv. It was always him. He wasn’t too stupid or incompetent.

Kendall looked at Roman as if he had been stabbed in the back a thousand times by all his loved ones. It was the position he was meant to hold, now given away to his younger brother. Roman looked at him, unsure of how to accept the news, but told Logan he could do it. Kendall let a smile shine, before retracting it. Despite his failure, he was happy to see his younger brother be able to step up. He had faith in Roman. But Roman couldn’t accept it, but Kendall reassured him it was great. That he was happy for him. Kendall pushed everyone to go on with the dinner. But there was a kind of silence. Roman couldn’t eat. He just watched as everyone's forks and knives hit the plate, making that god-awful sound. You just tried to keep Roman calm enough on the outside. You breathed in and out slowly for him, having him follow your league in a quiet way so no one noticed what you both did. But Jess noticed. “Congratulations Rome, you deserve it. Really.” You whispered to him, taking a bite of your food. He nodded, finally deciding to eat after watching you eat. Dinner was awkward. Barely anyone spoke except Kendall and Logan from time to time to ease the awkwardness. But once everyone was finished, they scurried away into hiding like roaches with a flashlight on them. It was as if they’d be next to get the news they didn’t want to hear. Roman could barely move though. He was the last one there with you. You stayed for emotional support. “Hey- come on, let’s get up, alright?” You encouraged him. He was in a complete haze. You grabbed his arm, standing up and tugging. “Come on Rome- it’s alright, come on.” You continued. He just looked up at you, you weren’t sure what he was feeling. His face told you nothing. “I-uh- I finally fucking did it.” He laughed anxiously. He rubbed his face with one hand, roughly going over his jaw and mouth. “I mean- like- what the fuck was that, right?” He continued to just laugh nervously. You forced him up and tried to drag him to his room. “Do you think he was fucking with me? I mean seriously. You can weirdly read him. Do you think he was lying or-“he was ranting. His mind was going too fast. He couldn’t slow down. “Roman- I think he was serious. Now come on. Let’s just get you to your room. You can celebrate there.” You tried to redirect him. You fortunately got him to his room, but Roman could not stop talking about what just happened. He told you everything you just witnessed as if he recounted it to someone who wasn’t there. The door finally shut as you finally let go of Roman.

“I mean- just- y/n I mean come on- you saw that, right?” He reached out for you to comment on his success. But the door shut, leaving all of his excitement out the door as it finally hit him. “I fucking need you.” His mind spoke, before grabbing you once again, pressing you into him. He forced his lips on yours. You froze, not sure you were ready for this just yet. You pushed at first before finally giving in to Roman’s demands. You pushed his body against the wall, your hands roaming his body. His hands stopped yours, not sure if he was comfortable enough to let this go far enough. He pulled away, looking down at you, trying to catch his breath. “You still do like me.” He began to tease, leaning down to kiss you once again. You pulled away.

“Don’t remind me of what a bad idea this is.” You stood your ground. He nodded, watching you carefully.

“But- you didn’t want me back? Not even for a bit? Even if you were trying to get me to fuck you?” He questioned you. You rolled your eyes, denying it.

“Shut up, this is just your little ego boost now that you’re COO.” You denied your feelings towards Roman. He shrugged, knowing somewhat that it was true. Despite being sad about Kendall, the ego boost it gave him completely drove him wild. “Oh yeah- cause- y’know. It makes this so much hotter; don’t you think? You don’t wanna fuck the potential CEO?” He tried to tempt you. He might not fully be there, but he was willing to push his boundaries with you tonight. Especially since you were pissed at him. It was some way to gain control of himself.

The position of COO gave him confidence like no other. It was such a difference since 2 days ago after being taken advantage of in Turkey. He went from a hostage to a COO. You laughed at him, not trying to admit how much you did want him as badly as he did. You had gone months without touching him in any kind of sexual way. You went weeks without even seeing him naked or just in his boxers. You hadn’t allowed yourself to do anything with anyone else either because you weren’t sure it would feel right to do that to Roman. So, you obtained from everything, other than your own hand and toys. And a bit of fantasy you had.

“Oh yeah- cause I’m the slut who’ll fuck the next man in power.” You said in a sarcastic tone. Roman eyed you down before making a proposal to you. “Uhh- do you actually wanna do this though? Just- can we turn the fucking lights off while you just- I don’t know do whatever the fuck.” He never knew how to ask about these kinds of things properly. His sexuality was such a difficult thing for him to get into.

You looked at him, contemplating. “Well- I just-“ You thought, looking at him.

The desperation was apparent on his face. He wanted to be touched by you. He wanted to actually feel whatever you were willing to give him. But if he could avoid any discomfort of looking at himself along with other issues, he wasn’t ready to address.

The look he gave you, nearly pleading to be touched and loved by you, drove you to your decision. You walked to the wall, flipping the light switch off, and turning the lights off as Roman had asked you. You were lucky enough to be able to find his body. It wasn’t completely dark, there was some ability to make out what was in front of you. Your eyes would adjust soon.

Roman grabbed you, excited, but nervous to finally be able to do what everyone else did without it feeling like a chore. He wasn’t willing to actually go through with everything, but anything would be good. “Just tell me whenever you want to stop, okay?” You checked in with him before proceeding. You grabbed his hand and led him to the bed that remained in the middle of his yacht suite. You sat him down, straddling his hips. You sat down, grinding your hips against his, feeling him get hard almost instantly.

You pressed kisses down his jaw and neck, making sure not to leave marks. You didn’t want people to see their new COO with brand new marks on him with only the possibility being a few people that actually gave it to him. His mouth was closed shut, letting hums out. His body tightened as he felt pleasure taking over from simple kisses. It felt nice. He was comfortable enough. “Do you wanna take my clothes off or…?” You tested his boundaries. He nodded quickly, grabbing the end of your shirt before pulling it over your head and throwing it off somewhere. He hesitantly placed his hands on the curves of your waist, feeling them move slightly as you continued to grind into him. You tried to get yourself off in some way. You leaned down, kissing him. Your lips moved together softly, taking this slowly. You moved your hands down to his shirt to remove it before he stopped you. You removed your hands and placed them away from the end of his shirt. You moved yourself away from his lap, moving his legs apart. You leaned down, not breaking the kiss as you got down in front of him. “Tell me when to stop. You reminded him. You kissed down his jaw to his clothed chest before moving away. You laid your head on his thigh. He stared intently, nodding slowly to let you know he was okay to move on. You nodded back before undoing his hands for him. You nearly removed his pants before he stopped them at a certain point. He laid back, propping himself up on his elbows. He wanted to watch you. He hated the sight of himself but adored the sight of you. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He praised you, running his fingers through your hair. Your hands moved towards his cock before pulling it from under his boxers. You looked at Roman again, asking for consent to move forward. Your guidance helped him a lot more than he had expected. Without it, he would’ve stopped nearly immediately. “Touch yourself.” Roman demanded in a soft tone. He didn’t want to sound too controlling, but the neediness in his voice gave away the urgency of how much he wanted you to. You obeyed, licking your fingers before slipping them into the waistband of your shorts. You pressed your fingers against your clit before licking your other hand and stroking Roman at the same time as you touched yourself. His head threw back, biting his bottom lip to keep quiet enough. He couldn’t show off how desperate he truly was to finally be touched by someone. You picked up the pace, watching his reaction getting quicker and more dramatic. He never stopped you though. His head came back to watch you.

“Uh- fucking-uh just- fucking blow me or something.” He tried to get his thoughts in line but was too distracted by your touch. It was intoxicating. You giggled at how much of a mess he was. He needed you so badly. “Don’t fucking laugh.” He seemed almost offended. He held your head in his hand, not pushing or shoving you. Just following whatever he had seen in some kind of porn video he had seen, assuming this was right. “How bad do you need it though?” You asked, slowing down the pace, and pressing a kiss onto the tip. His body twitched, not expecting it to be so sensitive. “Really really fucking bad. Now please- just…” He begged before you finally did as he asked. Your lips wrapped about him, bobbing your head down and up. His lips were slightly separated as he let soft profanities slip through his mouth and whimpers. You picked up a quicker pace, learning what he liked very quickly. He wasn’t too hard to guess. His mouth hung open, his breathing getting heavier the closer he got. He finished quickly, embarrassed immediately as he did. He hid his face in a pillow and humiliated with himself. He wasn’t able to last longer than a couple of minutes. You got up, washing your mouth out, unsure how comfortable Roman would be to receive kisses from you afterward. You came back to see him sulking about being basically sexually inept.

“Hey-…” You sat on the bed, removing the pillow from his face. “Did you have fun at least?” You asked. He nodded, sighing.

“Yeah- Sorry- I just- Sorry I can’t fuck you properly.” He muttered the words out quickly. You let out a stifled laugh, shaking your head.

“Awe shut the fuck up. I had fun. Come on. It was sexy.” You tried to cheer him up. Despite not being able to even get yourself off, it was rewarding watching Roman enjoy himself enough. You planted a kiss on his cheek before getting up to turn the lights on.

“Did you- did you like it though?” Roman asked, insecure about his own abilities. You turned and nodded. “I had the best time Roman. It’s a huge step. I’m proud of you regardless…” You admit, planting another kiss on his lips. “Do you want me to stay over?” You asked. Roman nodded, moving himself to give you enough room on the bed. You scooted in, undressing into just a shirt and underwear before you got in with him. He stayed quiet, finally holding you again for the first time since Dundee. That had to be about 2 weeks ago at this point. He was just glad to finally have you back here with him. He wasn’t going to fuck this up anymore.

You both had fallen asleep fairly quickly.

When Roman woke up a deep set of emotions began to finally sink in. He was COO and Kendall was now going to take the blame. He had taken the job his brother had been waiting for his whole life. And it was all over for Kendall. Roman was conflicted. He was so excited and happy about the position but upset with his brother. This was an injustice done to Kendall. But they were going to have to do a press conference to push out the news. He wasn’t sure if the public would even accept him being COO. His reputation wasn’t the cleanest. He didn’t look fit for the job. But he felt he could do it. You made me feel like he could for the past couple of months. He was grateful for you.

Kendall had been sent out to the states while the rest of the family stayed back. Jess had left with Kendall, and she assured me Kendall was still keeping her on. She assumed he was going to need her for other ventures he might be planning to do.

You felt your stomach turning as you were watching the press conference. It felt sickening. Almost like watching a Shakespearean tragedy but modernized. “I can’t fucking believe this is actually real…” You whispered to Roman. He nodded, biting on his fingernails. He couldn’t either. Everyone watched as if it was watching a slaughter happen on camera. Kendall finally came into the frame before finally talking into the tens of microphones. You leaned in forward, anticipating his announcement.

Kendall then turned against his statements, trashing his father and the company on live television. He had notes set up. Roman got up and rushed to the common room that kept Logan and Shiv. You ran after him. “Fuck…” You murmured. You couldn’t tell if you should be happy or angry at Kendall. You were upset he would ruin his brother's new position, but glad he was standing up against Logan.

Logan watched, feeling a sense of pride. Kendall finally learned the game that Logan has been playing for decades. “We have to go…” Roman whispered to you. You nodded and followed his lead.

“I can’t- holy fuck- fuck- fuck-fuck!” You couldn’t believe what you watched. Roman stayed quiet. He was annoyed he ever felt sorry for the fucking asshole. This was his plan the whole time. He didn’t want to give up the COO position because he was trying to do good by their dad. He wanted to spite his father, even if it ended up hurting Roman too.

Roman’s memories of Kendall putting things before him, rushed to the front of his mind as Roman ranted to you about what an inconsiderate loser he was. How he never truly cared. How Kendall was a psychopath.

“I mean- what the fuck? Right? I mean he encouraged me for getting the COO position. And then he goes and does this? Is he fucking insane? Is he trying to put me in fucking jail or something? I’m too gorgeous to go there. Fuck no. Fuck that cunt.” He couldn’t stop ranting. It really hit you that he put everyone in the company in trouble. Anyone slightly involved could go to jail. This wasn’t just a feud. This was a war to Kendall.

“Ken’s not gonna send you to jail…” You tried to ease Roman’s thoughts. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “No- no more defending that cunt. Kendall isn’t some sweet little no chin having sensitive latte sipper. He’s just as fucking crazy as all of us. He’s doing this out of some crazy drug-induced fucking psychotic break.” Roman called it out. But you weren’t sure if that was truly the case. Kendall did seem to have a lot of regrets and a lot of emotions towards the victims and the incidents that happened.

A slam on the bedroom door occurred, startling both of you. “Roman- get your hand out of your fucking pants and let’s fucking go.” One of the staff called out. You grabbed your stuff and rushed out. You got a look from everyone as they were just down the hall. Why would your stuff be in Rome’s room? Logan was too busy to focus on his son’s relationship with his assistant, not that Logan had any room to talk.

You had gotten into the helicopters, landed in a landing strip, and waited for the private jet to finally arrive. What a fucking nightmare. They didn’t even know where we would fly to and had no pilot for another idea.

Roman tried to ease his father, only getting insulted. Poor Hugo had to be stuck in a car with him. You frantically were texting Jess for updates. All she could tell you was that Kendall was completely out of his mind right now. She thought he was having some kind of midlife crisis. You both passed over information to each other, worried about where this would end.

But Jess thought Kendall was justified, while you were severely on the fence, especially since Roman could potentially see jail time for this.

You decided to stay out of all the discourse, unsure if it was any of your business.

Logan had been scarily silent. He wasn’t yelling anymore. Just genuinely curious and delirious. He had decided to call Kendall. That’s when the threatening began, and he was back to regular Logan. You overheard everything, rushing to Roman. “Hey-uh- how you holding up?” You asked.  

“Uh- well, my brother is a drug addict mentally ill man who wants to ruin us and my dad an angry delirious….” Roman began to whisper so Logan would hear. But he cowered under his father. Everyone did. Roman just fed into Logan’s game and tried to discredit Kendall.

“Uhh- I don’t know if this could help… But I’ve been texting Jess all day and she’s been texting me things we could use against Kendall.” You prompted, catching Logan’s interest. He raised an eyebrow and asked you to read the texts out loud. You nodded quickly, grabbed your phone, and read the texts out loud. “Ken is off his meds….. ken is going fucking nuts again…. I think naomi is feeding this fucker coke again there’s no fucking way….. uhhhh….. ken def is bd…. He’s hitting rock bottom….” You tried to pick out the texts and even handed the phone to Hugo to read them. “We could use this. This could be a source. Someone close to Kendall. It could work.” Hugo admits to Logan. Logan tried to think it through before finally deciding. “Whatever we could use on the ungrateful fucking bastard.” Logan grumbled under his breath.

Logan walked off, leaving you, Roman and Shiv alone. “Uhh- I-I-I don’t know why I just fucking did that…” You deeply regretted your decision. You put Jess up there now. Jess was now involved. Holy fuck. Oh no. Fuck FUCK FUCK FUuuuucCKK. HOLY FUCK.

“It’s alright. We gotta bring this fucker down.” Roman tried to settle it. “No! I- I don’t know why I involved Jess. Holy fuck… Oh god…” You panicked. Shiv got up quickly, wrapping her arms around you. She shushed you and tried to keep you from spiraling. “Shh- hey this is business. I’m pretty sure Jess knows that. You’ll be alright.” Shiv tried to remind you. “I mean look at Tom. You basically cooked him alive twice and he still thinks you’re a great asset.” Shiv tried to remind you. You nodded, trying to reason with yourself. Maybe this could be fine. It’s not like Jess was going to hate you. Kendall needed Jess. He was acting crazy anyways. He was crazy. You’ve seen how he’s been for the past couple of weeks. He’s gone insane.

Staff had been making calls constantly, trying to find some way to keep this calm. Roman tried to settle his emotions with jokes or insulting Kendall while Shiv kept to herself, trying to soothe herself. You just texted Jess, she was your one way to always relax.

You were scared to see where this was going to end.

Notes: Did people not like the last chapter? I barely got any attention on it and I thought it was a pretty good one.

Chapter 17

#succession #succession hbo #roman roy #hbo succession #roman roy fanfic #kendall roy #shiv roy #succession fanfic #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #siobhan roy #tom wambsgans #greg hirsch #logan roy #connor roy #fanfiction #fanfic

[dreamtydraw]

i gotta know more about your mc and baxter (i am never free from this man somebody help me). do they date in step 3, or just crush on each other? and the angst, pls gimme some angst >:D

oh, and do you have any headcanons about them together? :3

*slap my knee* WELL HONEY you have a BIG storm coming-

I’m a multi-shipper so Cerise has a storyline where they date and one where they were just really good friends and in both cases: Baxter was someone extremely important to Cerise.

Important context to understand: Cerise was nonverbal for almost half of her life. She has an important communication problem that actively ruin her personal life as she struggle to talk to people and so not isolate herself. Regardless of the nature their relathionship take, Baxter is extremly important to her as he's the first person she managed to befriend by herself. He came off strong and she took her chance to try talking with someone else and it ended up feeling easy around him.

They are vastly different and this is one of the main reasons they work together: They get to experience, learn and witness a new way of living life. Cerise gets to build her confidence slowly, they have an agreable moment and the dating is all new and attracting to her. She feels a lot and is in the company of someone who appreciates her and makes her come out of her shell.

You can imagine how such an impactful relationship can turn from the loveliest encounter of your summer to the most emotionally damaging event of your life.

Also worth mentioning is that in my playthrough Baxter closed the door in Cerise's face while she was bawling her eyes out on his porch... Yeah it didn't went well....

The reason why this breakup impacted Cerise so much is how some little details spiral in an endless train of negative thoughts: "If I was worth it, he would have tried" and "I am not even capable to move on from something so insignificant for him" "I feel stupid for having felt confident" "I should have known that I was not made to be around people, I can't even talk to someone properly" "I'm too much"

Cerise's self-confidence got shattered, having walked right back of all the effort she managed to make and her mutism coming back into her daily life. It only took one conversation to ruin an entire process of self grow.

The reunion was a painful one and here is where I call my phase the: Baxter pain and regret.

Just imagine for a second, you are so miserable because of your own choices, you left someone who loved you by convincing yourself they'll move on and 5 years later when you meet them again they are a shell. You hurted them so much that to this days your presence haunted them, the person you loves because of their positivity, their smile and bright kindness are now dull, sad and scared. The regret of it all and the pain of wanting to ask why, to wanting to help but also desperetly not wanting to furter implicate yourself while they still look at you with hope. How much would it hurt you to be given a chance even after all you destroyed ? After all the joy you denied for both of you and with all the regrets of have spent so much time in your selfish perception of the world. It would sting and that something that can never dissapear, even if she's back, even if you try again, even if you make progress, you simply can't make up for what you caused and it hunt you at night. You always been loved, you always loved them, and like a fool you reciprocate those feelings by doing the opposite of what love is suppose to be.

NOW THAT ANGST HAVE PASSED- Here is some cute dating headcanon I have of these two :D

Oh and one last sad stuff :

Cerise cut and dyed her hair because Baxter used to say he liked her long orange hair and the compliment felt so bittersweet that she couldn't stand seeing herself in the mirror...

ANYWHOOZIE

-Cerise likes jewelry and likes to make colorful jewelry so she wanted to make bracelets for Baxter. One colorful green to keep as a souvenir and one black and white.

-Still on jewelry, they traded. In exchange for a bracelet, he gave her some rings of his (that she kept wearing for the 5 years )

-They kissed in the car watching the firework because Cerise doesn't like loud noises

-Cerise doesn’t like sudden louse noise but had fun listening to Baxter’s music during some car rides.

-Because she can’t drive she asked him to pick her up or give her a ride to some stores just to have some time with him.

-They met at the cypres during the "soirée" moment and this fun fact always makes them laugh, life sure like them together.

-Fear of the ocean vs Fear of height, both are here to help the other fight against their fear with a little help

-Cerise gave Baxter a glass shot as a souvenir and he only once drank in it alone but was too scared to break it so he kept it hidden.

-I have this hc that once they get married ( because yes they will ) Baxter has a picture of her somewhere in his office and if someone asks "Are you married ?" he just pull up the pic of his very colorfull and and cheerful wife so people look at him confuse

you married a rainbow ?!

-Everyone had their moment of "don't ever hurt her again" with Baxter but the worst one was Liz who profaned murder hunt if he did.

-Still, Baxter got accepted nicely back into the family.

-Cerise's services as a photographer got added to Baxter's wedding contact of people he can recommend and they at least worked on some weddings together.

-Neither of them are morning people, but they spend a lot of their nights hanging out and simply talking until late.

-Some dinner nights they take a detour to dance a bit on the side near the beach

-Travel around the world travel around the world! Cerise has some nice vacation places she wants to do with Baxter and they sometimes need some calm time.

-They just love each other, 5 years are nothing compared to the rest they spent together

THANKS YOU FOR READING THIS FAR

#my art #my oc #ask about my otp #olba oc #baxter ward #dreamty's ramble #olba #our life begining and always #baxter x mc

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

i read your post you tagged “if you take nothing else from this blog let it be this”

and i’m glad i did because it paints a really great picture of your ideology

“i have nothing in common with trans women,” you say, and then you proceed to describe in vivid detail some obviously painful memories from your childhood that stayed with you: begging god to “fix” you, being viewed as dangerous by your peers for your identity.

you’re so right, when trans women were children everyone always clapped them on the back and said “great job today buddy we accept you!”

they never felt alienated, they were never treated as predators whilst being mere children, and they certainly never hoped a higher power would make them normal.

nothing human is alien to yourself and i’m sorry you think you have not an inch of common ground with 50% of the earth. i hope you’re very young, that would explain this really defensive, combative and self-isolating stance you’ve taken.

i’m a cis woman who was also bullied in middle school for being gay so unfortunately you cannot write this off as another “angry man” or whatever, but i expect you’ll find some other way to dismiss this criticism, or maybe you’ll pretend you didn’t read it despite me reading your much longer vitriolic post.

i’m not saying you have to love and welcome trans women into Our Spaces—although i wish you did feel that way—but specifically i’m baffled that you think you have NOTHING in common with them solely because they were born with a penis. are genitals really that defining of a human being? i personally don’t find it super feminist to reduce my entire identity and human experience down to my having a vagina.

No, anon, I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t read this ask. I do acknowledge and appreciate two things:

You took the time to read my post. If I can be honest, I thought it’d be a bigger hit, and the fact it wasn’t is at least partially contributed to its length, I’m sure.

Even though you clearly disagree with me, this ask is respectful. I really do appreciate that.

With that out of the way, I would like to give you a response.

““I have nothing in common with trans women,” you say, and then you proceed to describe in vivid detail some obviously painful memories from your childhood that stayed with you: begging god to “fix” you, being viewed as dangerous by your peers for your identity.

you’re so right, when trans women were children everyone always clapped them on the back and said “great job today buddy we accept you!”

they never felt alienated, they were never treated as predators whilst being mere children, and they certainly never hoped a higher power would make them normal.”

I would like to point out that the post I made was specifically talking about “lesbian” trans women. In the beginning, I speak a bit generally about trans women as a whole, but my post was mainly about straight males who claim to be lesbians. I'm willing to accept that I have plenty in common with homosexual trans women (trans women into males) because we are both gay. Not only that, but I can relate to being so gnc that I’d rather just be the opposite sex. However, this part of your ask does not make nearly as much sense if we are talking about heterosexual trans women. Yes. Straight males very much so are considered normal. I think where people like you and people like me get into the most arguments is that we can't decide who is and who is not a trans woman. You seem to view them as tortured minorities who struggled since childhood. And some of them are—mostly the homosexual ones, but the thing is that men with sissy fetishes or autogynephilia also call themselves trans women. “But they’re not!” is what you’re probably saying, right? Those men are perverts, right? Okay, but they call themselves trans women. How do you know who's telling the truth or not? How do we prevent the liars from hurting women? What is stopping a man with a fucked up fetish from identifying as trans, entering a woman’s bathroom, and assaulting someone? You might be thinking that if a man wants to assault somebody, a woman's bathroom sign isn't going to stop him from doing so, but the thing is, if you make it a law that anybody can go into whatever bathroom they want to go into, it then becomes asinine to call the police on him. The police can't do anything because how do they know he doesn't belong there? Do you understand why this whole thing causes women such great pause?

You and I can trade pathos all day. I can tell you sad stories from my childhood growing up gay. You can talk to me about a sad boy crying in his room wishing he was a girl. It always comes back to “who do you care about more?” If a teenage girl talks about feeling genuine discomfort over males being allowed in the school locker rooms and a teenage boy talks about how much he wishes he had access to the girl locker rooms because he “feels” like a girl, whose side do you take? Who do you care about more? I will always choose women and gay people.

I left something out of my post, anon. It wasn't relevant but now I think it is. I've talked about this before but when I was a kid I struggled greatly with the fact that I was black. I can say with full confidence that I had racial dysphoria. I wanted to be white so badly. Both of my parents are black people, but I used to ask people if I could pass as half white. It was pretty bad. Would you have told me that I was meant to be born white? No? Then why do you think it’s okay to tell someone they’re meant to be born the opposite sex? Why is sex the only thing people are allowed to say is “wrong” about them? How ingrained are biases about sex that people look at a little boy playing with dolls, say “he’s supposed to be a girl”, and a disturbing amount of people say “true!”? That’s insane! Imagine if someone looked at a white person eating watermelon and said they were meant to be born black? That’s how people with your ideology sound. You don’t think you sound that way because you’ve had so many people backing you up, but if you can tell me why racial dysphoria isn’t valid but gender dysphoria is, I’ll reconsider everything. It is my “bad” luck I was born black, anon. There is nothing I can do to change that. Some boy wishing he was a girl is a sad thing, sure, but it’s simply a matter of tough luck lmao. He shouldn’t suddenly get everything he wants just because of that.

“nothing human is alien to yourself and i’m sorry you think you have not an inch of common ground with 50% of the earth.  i hope you’re very young, that would explain this really defensive, combative and self-isolating stance you’ve taken.

i’m a cis woman who was also bullied in middle school for being gay so unfortunately you cannot write this off as another “angry man” or whatever, but i expect you’ll find some other way to dismiss this criticism, or maybe you’ll pretend you didn’t read it despite me reading your much longer vitriolic post.

i’m not saying you have to love and welcome trans women into Our Spaces—although i wish you did feel that way—but specifically i’m baffled that you think you have NOTHING in common with them solely because they were born with a penis. are genitals really that defining of a human being?  i personally don’t find it super feminist to reduce my entire identity and human experience down to my having a vagina.”

50% of the population? You and I have been talking about trans women this whole time. Are they 50% of the population? Are you talking about men when you say this? Why? This is a bit of a freudian slip, anon. Seems like I’m not the only one here who knows trans women and men are the same thing.

I do think that “nothing human is alien to yourself” is a beautiful phrase, and I do agree! There are men and straight people I can relate to just fine. But I don’t agree with calling males lesbians and I don’t agree that people can be born in the wrong body. I am defensive and combative. Women and lesbians are actively being threatened. Self-isolating though? No, I don’t think so. I don't feel isolated at all. In fact, I think being open about my views has led to me being close to people I never would’ve thought. And even if my views did lead to my isolation, I would much rather be alone than with people who are actively hurting women and gay people.

“i’m baffled that you think you have NOTHING in common with them solely because they were born with a penis.” I can concede that saying “nothing” was more emotion based than logic based, but I think that the straight male experience is pretty damn different from the lesbian one. The male experience, in general, is pretty different from what I’ve had. That’s what I was speaking about. 

“are genitals really that defining of a human being?” I don’t know about how much they define a human being, anon, but they definitely do contribute a lot to how the world treats you. If you have a penis, the world treats you a shit ton better than they do if you have a vagina. That’s just facts. Nobody can help being born with a penis, but the world is not a fair place. Also, for a trait that is apparently so neutral, people with penises manage to commit 90% of all violent crime. What do you make of that? If genitals are really neutral, why isn’t the crime rate between people with vaginas and people with penises a 50-50 split? You said yourself that nothing human is an alien concept to other humans, so if women go through the same experiences men do, why is there such a large disparity in crime? Why can women go through the things men do (and worse, let’s be real) and generally not end up as criminals? What is it about having a penis that contributes to this?

“I personally don’t find it super feminist to reduce my entire identity and human experience down to my having a vagina.” I never said women are only their vaginas. If I tried to talk about racism, I would not be “reducing black people down to their skin color”. There is no reason why talking about the female experience should be met with claims I’m reducing women down to their vaginas.

#I love that you think I would've thought you were an angry man #they would've never been so nice #especially on anon #I didn't know you were a cis woman (you could've been a trans man) but I knew you were female #Also if you missed it #the link to what anon is talking about is in the underlined 'post' is point number 1 at the beginning

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Awake

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

PART ONE

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 3.3K

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

SERIES MASTERLIST

[THIS SERIES WILL CONTAIN INACCURATE MEDICAL CONDITIONS. I HAVE CERTAINLY MADE THIS DISEASE UP & DO NOT CLAIM ANY OF IT TO BE ACCURATE. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. 18+. MINORS DNFI]

            Moving was almost over. Your muscles ached from all the furniture your parents insisted on you taking. They wanted to be there for you today but you practically begged to let you make this change on your own. You understood their worries & concerns, after all, it had only been two years since your accident, the one that left you waking to faces you didn’t know. It was surreal. You were a grown woman, in your mid 20’s but you didn’t know anyone. They said you did. But you couldn’t remember. Not a damn thing.

            The doctors & their staff made the adjustment easier. Though it was tough for your friends & family to see someone they loved look at them with confusion & fear. It was even stranger for you. There was no one you could lead on. You hated how they spoke to you, trying to jog your memory & make you remember. But all the therapy sessions & tests proved that your memories were gone. They weren’t coming back.

            In the beginning, the doctors kept you separated from the people who knew you, wanting you to take your time. For that you were grateful. The woman who was your mom, because that’s what they told you: the birth certificate, the photo albums, the stories, always looked at you with sorrow in her eyes. It wrecked you. You wanted to comfort her but didn’t know how. She was your mother but you didn’t know her. But you would learn about her all over again.

            “All that’s left is your mattress.” Lillie informed you as she joined you in your spacious kitchen. Lillie Raymond was your best friend. Or so they said. But you couldn’t argue with them, they had the evidence. You remembered the first time she visited you in the hospital. Out of everyone, she was the most gentle, approaching you like a new friend to begin with. She didn’t push or flood you with stories of your upbringing together. She simply brought a couple DVD’s, talked about her new job, tried out new hairstyles & asked for your opinion. It was enjoyable. You looked forward to her visits the most.

            After two years of living with your parents, getting your feet back on the ground & building your independence, the first person you thought of to help you with the transition was Lillie. She was more than happy to accommodate.

            “Thanks, Lil.” You said softly, running your hands along the granite countertop, “For everything. I know moving in the middle of the night isn’t ideal.”

            “Ain’t no thang.” She responded playfully, “I’m a night owl anyway.”

            The other surreal life change that occurred alongside your long-term amnesia was a rare case of sun disease. The medical term was too long to bother remembering, funnily enough. Ultimately though, you found out early on in your rebirth that exposure to sunlight or lights that used heavy UV rays caused epileptic seizures. You were caged to a life of nights. If you weren’t sleeping during the day, you were in a room with blackout blinds drawn, blocking out any source of daylight. It became more isolating. The only daylight you could get was from the movies you watched where normal people lived normal lives during normal hours. But over time, you learned to appreciate the night.

            “I sent the moving crew home, too. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t tip though…” Lillie cringed, “Which I feel terrible about considering the time of night.”

            “It’s okay, my parents paid them in advance for their time & effort.”

            Lillie heaved a sigh of relief, “I feel much better now.”

            “Good.” You chuckled softly. Crossing the kitchen into the living room filled with haphazard boxes & misarranged furniture, you stared out your floor to ceiling windows. Your parents paid a crew to come in the day before & install the blackout blinds so your first day in your own home wouldn’t be an issue of you hiding out in your windowless bathroom.

            “City living.” Lillie joined you at the window, her arm brushing yours as you both stared at the cityscape just outside, “I know you hate when we do this but the old you would’ve rolled in the grave at leaving the coast for a city full of smog & people who can’t drive.”

            She was right. You did hate when they did that. Your parents, friends telling you that who you were before your accident wouldn’t agree with the things you say & do now. It always felt belittling. Like you were an imposter trapped in the body of a girl that didn’t truly belong to you. You shook of the comment, “I’m happy she’s gone. I want to be here.”

            “I know, I’m sorry.”

You bumped her shoulder with your own, “It’s okay, Lil. But let’s not talk about her anymore, okay?”

“Heard.”

Following behind Lillie, the two of you rode the elevator down to the underground garage where the moving truck waited. A single crew man was sitting in the cab, clearly exhausted as the two of you pulled & pushed your memory foam mattress off the bed of the truck. Lillie drew down the gate of the bed & rapped her fist against, signaling to the driver he was clear to leave. As the moving truck rumbled out of the garage, you & Lillie carried the mattress into the elevator & up to your apartment.

Apartment hunting had been the most fun you had in a long time. There were many to choose from & because you, as well as your therapist & doctors, agreed that you were ready for independent living, you didn’t waste a second in seeking one out. Of course, once your parents supported your decision, at the behest of your doctors, they didn’t anticipate you moving states away. But once your doctors & therapist found suitable replacements for their roles in your livelihood, you were set to go on your merry way into a newfound life & home.

The apartment you chose was in an eight-story tall building. The architecture was modern with clean lines, cement flooring & walls, big windows perfect for natural lighting (which you wouldn’t get much use out of), & industrial features. Your apartment alone was quite large & resided on the top floor of the building. Your parents were paying a pretty penny for your rent. Unfortunately, one of the downsides of your sun disease was finding a job. Eventually you did find one, working as a call operator for people who are suffering from trauma in their lives & just need someone to talk to who would listen, perhaps even relate to their stories. As much as you enjoyed your job though, it didn’t nearly cover the rent enough. But you wanted the apartment, you needed this apartment. So, your parents agreed to pay your rent contingent on you covering the bills—which you were more than willing to do—as well as allowing your mother to fly in once a month to visit you on a weekend of your choosing. You accepted all conditions.

“So, where do you want it?” Lillie asked once the two of you dragged your mattress into your apartment. Of course, the bedroom would’ve been the obvious choice. But you had yet to get a bedframe yet. Your parents offered you the one you had been using for the last two years but you wanted something new, something of your own. Besides, the view in your bedroom didn’t nearly match the view from your living room.

“In the corner here.” You nod in the direction of your living room, beginning to tug on your end of the mattress. Lillie looked at you incredulously but shrugged her shoulders, lifting her end & helping you maneuver it just below the windows in your living room. You knew she didn’t understand but she didn’t need to. You wanted to be apart of the world & this was the closest you would get to it until then.

The two of you fell to your butts atop the mattress, Lillie pulling out her phone while your eyes clung to the cityscape outside.

“Jozef just got to the hotel.” Jozef, Lillie’s boyfriend & your other childhood friend—because they said so—had initially helped with the move but had to leave early to get some sleep for their flight in the morning.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay until you gotta leave in the morning? I clearly,” You gesture to the spacious apartment, “have the space.”

Lillie laughs softly, a hint of fatigue in her voice, “Thanks, babe but it’s okay. I know how important it is for you to do this.”

“I can start tomorrow though. I wouldn’t mind one more night with my best friend.”

Lillie grinned, rolling her eyes, “Okay okay, pull my arm why don’t ya.” She began tapping on her phone, “I’m telling Jozef I’ll meet him at the airport in the morning. But you better not make me miss my flight, missy.”

“Promise.” You gestured with your pinkie, to which she curled hers around your own.

There was music being played. It was faint. The clock on the floor read that it was almost six in the morning. Beside you, Lillie slept soundlessly. You were wide awake. Your new abnormal bedtime wasn’t usually until about nine in the morning, that way you slept through most of the day & would wake up in time for the evening.

Rolling to your side, you leaned up on your elbows, straining your ears to hear the music better. You reached above you to the window, rotating the handle, watching as the window slowly opened, letting the music below slip in smoother. It was a piano. You rose to your knees, your breath fogging the glass as you peeking your eyes over the opening of your window, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from.

Outside, the world was still. There wasn’t a car in sight on the street in front of your building. You peered into the apartments across from you. Hardly any had any lights on, maybe a one over someone’s kitchen sink or a lamp in the corner, but for the most part, they were dark. You remained there for a while, letting the piano piece waft softly up to your apartment. You knew it was at least coming from the apartments across the street. Again, you looked at the time. It was now just a little past six in the morning. Returning to a lying position, you wondered who would play music this early, & if anyone would become annoyed by it. But then you thought that most people were waking up right about now for work, for their normal lives, & you thought to hell with anyone who would find that annoying. You quite enjoyed it.

As you lied there in bed, thinking about the new life you would be embarking on in the morning, you focused on the piano piece, letting lull you to a state of sleepiness. As much as you would enjoy being like everyone else & waking to such a beautiful sound, you settled for letting it be your lullaby. Before you knew it, your eyes grew heavy & your breathing fell soft. Then you slept.

When you woke it was about two in the afternoon & Lillie was long gone. You were thankful that when you rolled over & looked around your living room that she had drawn all the blinds before she left. Part of you was sad to have missed her & not being able to say goodbye, but another part of you was relieved. You didn’t cry much. You didn’t know if you were a crier before, you didn’t want to know, but it was difficult for you to show emotion like that. Sure, you cried in moments of frustration & restrained anger but never from sadness or heartache. You theorized it was because you hadn’t grown emotionally attached to your friends & family. Yes, you loved, cared about them deeply—as deep as one can in two years—but the moments that typically called for tears never reached you. It bothered you in the beginning, knowing it bothered your loved ones, but there was nothing you could do to change that. You didn’t want to fake or pretend. So, while you would’ve loved to have said goodbye to Lillie & hug her one more time, you didn’t want to see her cry knowing full well you couldn’t mirror her emotions.

Getting out of bed, you were disheartened knowing you were awake much earlier than you’d like to be which meant your time up would be longer, but you wanted to find the good in that, meaning you had all the time to unpack your apartment & set it up to your hearts content. After making yourself a pot of coffee you, you unwrapped one of your bar stools & sat at the island, letting the bitterness of the drink wake you up. Though it was midday, your apartment was quite dark. You had a few nightlights plugged in to light the hallways & a few lamps ready for use when you needed but otherwise, you preferred sticking to candles. One burned now at the other end of the counter. You watched the flame flicker, the only other moving entity in your apartment other than you.

Begrudgingly, you found yourself wondering if the old you enjoyed solitude. Because of your condition, you adapted to your isolation well, finding solace in it when everyone around you looked at you in a way that was begging you to remember who you were. But you shook the thought from your head, not wanting to linger on them for too long. Your therapist told you that thoughts like that would be a given but it was a matter of not letting them be the reality. You are you now, not whoever you were before your accident, & while the people in your life would know that girl still, it wasn’t your duty to find her. She wanted you to embrace your new identity. So you would.

It’s ten in the evening when your mother calls.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. I’m really happy.” You know she wishes that wasn’t the case but you also know that it’s not because she doesn’t necessarily wish you weren’t happy, just that you were happy to be so far away. You turn the focus on her, “How are you?”

“I’m okay, sweetie.” She sighs on the other end, her voice shaking. You begged silently for her not to cry. She too didn’t cry much, always trying to hide it from you & part of you hated yourself for it, but you needed her not to, “I just miss you, is all.”

“I miss you, mom.” It wasn’t a lie. You did miss her. You just wished you missed her more. You turn the conversation onto a positive note, an attempt to soothe her nerves, “I already decided on which weekend you should come.”

“That’s wonderful.” The smile was evident in her voice.

“Yeah, I was thinking the second weekend of next month.”

“That’s only two weeks away.” She observes.

“I know. I didn’t want you to have to wait too long to come. I know this isn’t any easier for you, either.”

“Honey, please don’t worry about me. I know—” She stops suddenly, you can tell she pulled the phone away from her, the sound of her controlling her breathing before she returns, “I know you need to do this. I’m not angry at you.”

You’re just angry at the situation, you respond internally. Something you heard her say often when your dad & her would talk deeply about your situation.

“I love you, mom.” You tell her, “I’ll wait to decorate the living till you’re here. That way we can do something together.”

“That sounds good to me, honey.” She says, “I love you, too.”

“I’ll call you in a couple days, okay?” Your therapist recommended that calls be few throughout the week. It would be a matter of control on your mother’s part that she’d need to exercise in the midst of your independence.

“Okay. Bye, sweetie. Call us if you need anything.”

“I will. Tell dad I love him too.”

The two of you ended the call & you sighed heavily, turning your phone off. Lillie texted you earlier when she & Jozef made it back to their home. You thanked her & said you’d talk to her soon.

The blinds were up now. You had made a significant impact in your unpacking. The kitchen was all set up, same with the sole bathroom. It wasn’t until you were sitting there in silence, the lights from other buildings lighting up the living room that you realized you had hardly eaten today. You were so preoccupied with unpacking your new life that hunger escaped you. Your stomach growled at the thought.

Turning your phone back on, you mapped nearby restaurants & settled on a handful of food carts that resided a block away. Slipping into a jacket & beanie, your earphones at the ready, you locked your apartment behind you & bounded into the world. It was Monday night so few people were out. Restaurants & bars had few patrons who sat at outdoor tables, enjoying the last bits of the summer as September reached it’s end. You searched for a ‘walking through the city’ playlist on your Spotify & allowed the music to keep you company on your trek to the carts.

You settled on a burger to eat on a bench then an order of fries to-go. In the excitement of moving, you had forgotten to go grocery shopping. There was literally no food waiting for you back at the apartment so you needed to supplement until you could order a grocery delivery service tomorrow. Once you finish the burger, you tossed the remnants in a nearby trash. The fries were tucked safely under your arm as you began the walk home.

Rounding a corner, your building came into view & you stopped, standing there on the corner to stare up at it, finding your apartment easily considering it was the corner unit on the top floor. From here, you could tell your apartment was dimly lit. You stood there for a moment, enjoying knowing you had your own place to call home. A chilly breeze brushed over you & you shivered, resolving you were done admiring your new home. You were just about to cross the street when a piano began playing.

You froze, one foot off the sidewalk as you stopped to listen. It was the same piece from the night before, though this time it was much louder, closer. You turned, walking parallel to your building along the front side of the building across from yours. There was no doubt the music was coming from these apartments. The piece was soft, elegant, soothing. You stood there, your neck craned as you looked upwards. You eyes were closed as swayed gently to the music. Even now, you felt the music could lull you to sleep right here on the sidewalk. A smile breached your lips.

You didn’t know how long you stood outside the building, listening to the music. You wish you could meet the person, ask them was the piece was called so you could listen to it yourself, or if they could come play it for you. But after a while, the music stopped, much to your disappointment. You opened your eyes, staring at the building in awe. You hoped the person intended on living there for as long as you lived across the street. You wanted to meet them, become friends, talk into the long hours of the day. Perhaps a new friend would be good for you. Someone who doesn’t know you from before, but you now.

Crossing the street & entering your building, you resolved you would find who the piano playing maestro was, & you resolved that they would become your closest friend in your new home.

Part one to a new Rafe Cameron series as requested by an anon. I promise Rafe will make an appearance in the next part but I needed to build the world & reader first. P.S. Rafe will be going by Adrian in this story because--psst he's the bad guy.

Please like, comment, reblog, drop an ask, etc. I look forward to hearing what ya'll think!

Thank you for reading!

Beau<3

PART TWO

Requests are currently CLOSED

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased

if you want to be added to a tag list, comment whether you want to be tagged for a character, a series, or in general, otherwise it will be dismissed.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #dark!fic

[birthdaycakeplate]

same anon asking for Blitzbee fic recommendations, tried to message you but unfortunately your account is set to only people you follow doing that.

but hmmm, I'd say my personal taste in fics are actually slow burns, I really like fics that focus on Blitzwing and Bee forming an unlikely relationship based on their 'home lives' in a sense of it, where neither are understood and often viewed as annoyances/loose canons leading both to a feeling of isolation and a mild desperation/willingness to connect with anyone even at the risk of 'treason' for interacting with the other side.

I also enjoy the progression for Blitzwing of seeing Bumblebee as a harmless amusement to him somehow becoming a bit of a hyper focus that causes the big bad con to develop some empathy and *gasp* morals.

Meanwhile Bee is just a cocky little bastard who refuses to accept Blitzwing as the actual threat he is and then feelings are caught when his view of the world is shifted and he finds out Decepticons are also actually just people with complex feelings and motivations (also bonus if break down of autobots 'all warbuilds are evil because' bs is broken down)

I realize now I'm rambling so apologies its just a very fun ship to babble about.

If I was to ask for any fic, if you could set one in your Nemesis AU that be amazing, the size difference you give in that is spectacular like omg I stare so politely.

Also the concept is just very fun to me and I'd love to see that au world expanded.

As for spicy content I don't really have any ideas? Sorry I'm actually terrible at writing it my only preferences are Blitz top and preferably consensual.

for ease if we keep talking like this I'll sign off as

Curiosity

GOD, of course I invited you to talk with me and then blocked you from doing that elekkeem 🌝 I think I fixed my messaging where I’ll get your stuff now, if you’d like to try again 😭 I swear I’m always this dysfunctional.

But anyway, your message here is good, true, andfantastic. I CRY. Your view on the ship is perfect and pure D,8

I LOVE when Blitzwing is stunned when his desire to squash the useless yellow gnat and be done with him is suddenly evaporated by the sudden realization this guy is slowly becoming the only thing in his life fun and full of life (and kind of precious if he’s being honest, ok???). Because their chemistry is crazy- they’re both wrekcless little freaks when left to their own devices, but full time loyal, fucked up little creatures to the ones closest to them. The handful Blitzwing can afford to let in to his life, even if ‘friends’ isn’t the word he’d use, and the few Bumblebee can make real connections with, when he’s a mischievous ant with a complex to make ‘something great’ of himself.

But he already IS great and bad boy Blitzwing needs to make it his immediate life’s goal to get that through to him and give him lots of love. (I ramble, too, you’re in good company)

I’m bad at stating my thoughts, I get overwhelmed when it’s my own emotions. But I typed and retyped something along the lines of how I’m noticing we have lots of similarities here in terms of what our favorite flavor of Blitzbee is 🩷🩷🩷 I bet lots of ppl who read this would agree with you and appreciate you throwing out there the love language of these complete messes of men✨

Does that mean my attempt to translate these tastes into fiction beside my ideas will make for good reading and also provide you a happy source of top Blitz/blitzbee? God, I HOPE so. You deserve it and I’m going to try.

I have the first chapter half written, because-

OH MY GOD, YOU LIKE MY AUTBOTS JOIN THE NEMESIS AU STUFF EKEKKEE

OoooOOOHhhh aAHHHHHHHH

I SCREEEEEEAM 💕💕💕 thank you???!!! That means so much to ME and makes me insanely happy, because I was so surprised when you said that, and I REALIZED how amazing it is to hear a thing like that. That I’ve got a thing going I didn’t imagine would become liked enough for a fic request for it.

I’m hoping to finish this first chapter by next Friday. Probably sooner than that? But I’m scared life won’t allow it. Thanks for your messages💕

(The other anons who messaged me, too, about some top Blitzwing fic stuff, I see you and I’m elated to hear from so many of you, thank you✨)

#ask

[nabulsi]

In light of the bigots coming out of the woodwork to make their voices heard, I thought I should do the same. Only, in the opposite direction of course. (I hope you don’t mind!)

I’m also a Palestinian Arab. I’m queer. I’m genderqueer. I’m brown. I was raised Muslim. I live outside of Palestine. I want to live in Palestine, but a free, safe Palestine. I speak Arabic, I retain my culture, I struggle with the effects of the many colonial powers in today’s society, and the diasporic struggle for a semblance of identity, and the gentrification of an education that makes proficient English speakers and American-learned Arabs but loses the Arab. The very particularity of the queer Arab Palestinian is lonely in itself, because wherever you go hostility will surely await. The neocolonial situation from a diaspora of a settler colonial background is so interesting, and so isolating.

But it doesn’t have to be. Community won’t easily discard Arabic, or the culture, or the love of it all. Finding it is difficult but not impossible, to feel secure and whole when the upbringing told of anything but. Part of that perpetual recovering state, I found, was to see people like you who wear my same skin and then I feel so incredibly happy. Palestinian Arab, anti-Zionist, queer, diaspora, a writer, a fan, etc. etc. A whole person with one identity that doesn’t contradict itself, because we’re not contradictions but existences, is proof of life to me. If that makes sense. It’s enough for me to know that I am not a nagging singularity, and that this existence repeats itself and encapsulates a spread-out and doubly oppressed community… but a community that still exists all the same. You exist, and I hope you don’t mind my saying that you’re very much like me. The fact that you exist as you are has brought me joy, and your own expressions of joy has doubled it.

What I’m trying to say, and forgive me because I can’t be incisive, is that your existence and pride has brought me happiness and pride in myself a little too. The fight is so important, but the mundane, simple lived experience, reblogging on Tumblr and joking and writing and words that were written very obviously with a smile in mind, is so so special. Over everything, thank you for existing in that way. The very real, authentic, and fulfilling way. The way that writes fanfiction, and pokes jokes at the horrific reality of hate thrown in the face of our existences, and existing anyway. It’s so small, and I know very silly and the slightest bit cheesy and also perhaps weird given I’m a stranger, but honestly I mean it when I say it’s so great that you are. We are. And now my Tumblr has cut off my message and I can’t see anymore so I think somethings funked upuhh so the next part probabblyyyy won’t make any sense as I can’t access or see it but… sorry for rambling!! Thank if you read my long half-sensical shit!! (From the river to the sea Palestine will be free <3) rant,, ❤️

Aaaaaa forgive me if I'm not quite as eloquent in my reply. But your words made me so happy 😭 you've put into words a feeling i think most queer diaspora palestinians share and honestly I am glad to hear my silly little existence has positively impacted other queer palestinians.

and i stay silly 🩷

i appreciate this so much 💖💖💖💖💖💖 tysm for reaching out.

#flaccidbonestm #paptalk

[hecckyeah]

Hi so you don't have to if you don't want to but. I'm curious about your thoughts on all the main characters of The Rookie. So, on a scale of one to ten (ten being you would die for them and one being you really dislike them) where would you rank the main characters (and anyone else you feel like talking about!)

DUDE are you kidding me?? I don’t think you understand how much I would LOVE to subject my weirdly specific opinions about The Rookie onto unsuspecting followers. Fair warning: this could get lengthy. I have a Lot of Feelings.

HERE WE GO!!

(disclaimer: I’m only rating the main characters that have stuck around until/are new in season 5. there are just too many temporary ones to keep track of everyone)

starting off strong with my best dude, my main squeeze… John Nolan himself.

Solid 12/10

1 point off for his current taste in women (see Nune, Bailey)

BUT a million 3 extra points for being the straight shooting square golden retriever dad we all know and love 🫶 He (along with Grey) is the most constant, reliable entity on this show and I really appreciate that about him. I think season 5 had so much potential in watching him grow and learn in a teaching role, but unfortunately the writers did him dirty. Between teaching Celina and dating Bailey (neither of whom have solid relationships with any other main character) he felt isolated from the rest of the team and therefore weakened; the opposite of what he’s been in seasons 1-4. I hope it’s something they change going forward. That said, I still adore this man. Nolan my absolute BELOVED

Lucy Chen

10/10

TEN out of TEN. This woman owns my heart, she’s way too good for this world, too pure. If the sun and the moon were one person, they would be Lucy Chen. I absolutely adore her tenacity, her scrappiness in a tough situation, and her insightfulness not just in her job but in all her relationships and especially with herself. It takes a quality person to have so much self awareness, and she is the master of that. Also she is a CINNAMON ROLL and we LOVE her for it. Top marks all around, no notes.

Tim Bradford

9.9/10

Bradford my BELOVED. Minus .1 point for making me low-key hate him in the first season by being such a hardass, but ultimately a million points for being just an all around really solid character. His characterization is spot on: consistent, layered, intriguing, sometimes surprising (coaching little league?? who would have thought), and the most fiercely protective and badass-est of them all. I LOVE how we get little glimpses at his softer side, mostly around Lucy but even with random kids and his sister and occasionally the rest of Mid-Wilshire. Him being Angela’s man of honor was ICONIC, and it seriously fit his character so well. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes ;) I didn’t expect him to steal my heart like this but here we are!

Nyla Harper

Honestly? 8/10

I think she’s incredible and has the potential to be a really complex character, but something along the way fell flat. It's almost like the writers got scared of pushing the envelope with her too much. One of my absolute favorite scenes with her was that first time she quickly went undercover as Crystal in the laundromat and scared poor rookie Nolan half to death. We just haven't seen her like that in her element anymore, and her character feels shallow for it. Such a bummer, because she's awesome!

Angela Lopez

Also a good, solid 8/10.

I think her character has been WONDERFULLY done. She balances being the badass cop with being a no-nonsense, protective mother and wife. We get some really amazing insight into her backstory and a lot of her quirks (the part with her apartment being so messy made me feel SO validated lolll). I absolutely adore how close she is with her coworkers, especially Jackson and Tim. It feels natural and real, coming from years of trust and experience. I think where Nyla has fallen flat, Angela has really shined (shone? shin? lol). She's one of those that I wouldn't label as my favorite, per se, but I'm never mad when she's onscreen :)

Wade Grey

Grey, my man! 7.5/10

Listen. This man has almost retired at least thirteen times over the course of the show, and I'm pretty sure it's his insane dad instinct telling him to stick around and watch over his kids crew. He's predictable (in a good way), steady, unflappable... all the things a good sergeant should be. I love the subtle character development he's been through, mostly regarding Nolan and how he was so skeptical at first but now believes in him more than anyone else, basically. I love him for the glue that he is for the team, but he's not on an I would die for him tier. I'm honestly surprised he's lasted on the show this long lol but we LOVE Sergeant Dad around here

Wesley Evers

8.5/10, no hesitation.

Wesley is an ANGEL. I can't believe he and Lopez work so well together, but that just shows his incredible depth of character. He's a rich kid turned almost-philanthropist, who just wants to help people through his skills as a lawyer. He's real, with raw emotions guarded behind a wall of professionalism, that only slips once in a while... but when it does, it's heartbreaking. Ugh he's just SO good. A very very chewy delicious character, as some would say. I think there's a level of relatability with him that I've really become attached to. Incredible dude. Need more of this guy.

Aaron Thorsen

Amazing. 6/10

I think I feel sort of disconnected from Aaron, just because he's very much a background main character, if that makes any sense? His training was kind of breezed over, and so much of his introduction to the team/audience was based on the murder accusations and documentary that I feel like we never got to know the real Aaron aside from being rich and going through a tragedy. Kind of ironic and meta, eh? That said, I love him, he's absolutely awesome, and I REALLY hope he's okay :(

Tamara

Adorable. 7/10

I LOVE that they kept Tamara around after her first appearance. I love how much of a literary foil she is to Lucy. They’re opposites in a lot of ways, and she serves as that little sister figure, there for Lucy to protect and care for, but also she allows us to see the main cast and the police station through younger eyes. I think she’s a fantastic character, adorable and lovable despite all her Gen Z apathy.

Quigley Smitty

2/10

Plus 1 point for being comedic relief once in a while. Hard dislike. This dude is a waste of screen time.

Bailey Nune

3.5/10

I just. I WANT to love her, I really do. But as a character she’s just incredibly shallow. She’s disconnected from the rest of the team, and while I can see the value of having a main character who doesn’t work at Mid-Wilshire and isn’t a lawyer, the showrunners really dropped the ball with Bailey. She and Nolan have zero chemistry. It all feels extremely forced, that they’re pushing Nolan into a relationship simply for the sake of him being….in a relationship. And it pulls him away from the team, so we don’t see as many quality interactions with him and Chen anymore, even though Lucy is on record saying that the three OG rookies were inseparable. It also limits his interactions with everyone else, especially Bradford and the detectives. And it really hurts the quality of the show, with Nolan being the main driving character and all. Not to sound crass, but it almost would have been more poignant if Bailey died in the Rosalind tank and we had to watch Nolan grieve while still training Celina and walking her through her own lasting grief about her sister. It would have thrown a healthy wrench in the story, in my opinion. But aside from all of that, I wish I could like her…..but I just can’t.

WOW yeah so this has been initial thoughts on the main characters of The Rookie with yours truly 😂 I might come back and add a little addendum to this with some other thoughts, but for now!! this is what I’ve got!

#the rookie #asks #Katie’s sleep deprived ramblings

[inky-eclipse]

a response to jreg's loneliness video

note: wrote this ten thousand years ago, but figured i'd put it here since it's one of the few posts on my old blog.

when i initially watched the video, i sat there waiting for the “gotcha” moment where he’d turn around and be like “just kidding” or something. as i continued watching the video though, it slowly became apparent that moment was not coming.

i’ve never really thought about writing this type of response to a video, but i think how the video reflected some parts of what i felt in the past year is what pushed me to write.

he discussed that what pushed him to ditch his introversion was the posts he’d seen on the Ottawa reddit about how some people (jokingly i hope) wished COVID would go on forever so that they wouldn’t have to interact with people again. he figured if this is what introversion entails, he didn’t want a part in it anymore. girlbossing yourself into extroversion is a really post-COVID response. i’m somewhat introverted, but after COVID, i’ve noticed that i want to be around people a lot more frequently. i think the effects of severe isolation to humans is at least what partially drives this urge even if i know logically that i can’t accidentally isolate myself to that severe extent. i also related his adoption of extroversion. i usually get intp on Myers-Briggs, but once i started college, i tell people i’m entp. who’s going to stop me? the Myers-Briggs police? besides, i feel like i genuinely enjoy being around people for long periods of time when i like them. i guess i don’t want to tell people that i’m introverted and then have them assume i want to be alone all the time or that i would combust at a party.

when he started discussing the sediment around the soul or the unnatural distance he had experienced when trying to deeply connect with people, it didn’t ring any bells in my experience. then again, i don’t think i’ve given a shit in recent years about a person to the extent that he described so that probably has a lot to do with why the bells are stationary. the only thing that it somewhat reminded me of was how i usually tried to host study groups with folks, but usually nobody or one person would show up. it could be that nobody showed up cause it’s lame, but that repeated experience made me resonate with jreg’s frustration of constantly putting in legwork for nothing.

i continue to diverge from his experiences because while he laments about how he wishes he could just not have the need for genuine connections with others, i’m fine either way. however, it really hurt for a moment when it occurred to me that maintaining deeper, platonic connections is either out of my scope or might not be a thing a lot of people are looking for. since i grew up with solitary activities for the most part, i don’t, consciously at least, have this consistent need for a lot of close relationships. if i were to continue to have my acquaintance group, i think i’d be content. i wouldn’t have people i could talk to deeply when i’m upset, but i resist opening up to that extent to begin with.

that’s just me though. i didn’t appreciate his accurate comment on about how “if you see someone reading about happiness, it’s over for them”. i definitely didn’t read The Power of Fun and still have my detailed annotations.

#community #introversion #neurotic #loneliness #jreg #video essay response #is that even a tag

[shebeezee]

Welcome to my page! <3

I’m redoing this now that I’ve been on here for a little while. :]

Quick Intro:

Hey, I’m Bee! I’m a 21 year old queer hispanic from the USA. I prefer if a mix of pronouns are used for me but it’s not required.

I have multiple different disorders/ mental illnesses but you’ll mostly only find BPD related vents here so big TW for BPD related stuff. It’s a safe place for anyone who struggles with any type of disabilities, disorders, mental illnesses, etc.

My DMs, Inbox, etc is always open for any comments, questions, concerns, etc. I’m not very active on Tumblr (I don’t spent a lot of time on here) and I don’t have notifications on but I will respond once I see your message. If you’d like to be mutuals, feel free to interact with this post! Feel free to like, reblog, comment or shoot me a message! If I deem that your account is too triggering for whatever reason however, I may not follow back.

Take care of yourself honey! 💛

Tags:

#SheBeeZee - lil rambles or whatever else

#Inbox - inbox stuff

#BPD - bpd related vent/ rants

Longer Intro:

Hello again! I’ll just go into a bit more detail here. :)

I’ve been off the internet for a long while since I did cut off everyone in my life a few years ago. I isolated myself until more recently when I really started struggling and needed a place to vent out some frustrations. I struggle reaching out to people so feel free to reach out yourself, I promise you’re always welcomed here! :]

I only really post BPD related stuff here to try to keep things more of a safe place where there’s not too many sensitive things that can easily trigger people. I do have a side blog that’s not too hard to find but I won’t link it here because I’ll be rambling more on there about other sensitive topics that can be triggering.

I never had a “Tumblr Era” before this so I’ve pretty much been going in blind. I also don’t spend too much time looking at stuff on here either, not cause I don’t want to but just the mental illness brain talking.

I also do have pretty bad paranoia so if there’s ever something I don’t really answer or I seem to avoid mentioning, please don’t take it personally. I don’t mean any harm by it but I just prefer to keep some things private and my privacy is something I value a lot.

As I mentioned previously, I do have a lot of different disorders along with BPD so BPD can look very different on me compared to someone else who has different disorders. I am not a professional and only use this page to vent thoughts related to my experiences or things I’m going through. People without BPD might also relate to some of my vents since I do have other disorders that can affect my mindset so please don’t take anything I say or vent about as professional medical advice. If anyone wants to talk about it privately, I don’t mind that but please don’t take anything I say as 100% one way or the other since BPD can really look much different in people as well as my other disorders that are also factors to take in.

Thank you so much for reading and I appreciate anyone who sticks around! It’s definitely made me smile knowing there’s a lot of people who can relate to things I struggle with. It makes me feel much less alone than I did when I first started this account. It’s made me feel less crazy and less “it’s all in my head” about things. I appreciate each and every one of you. 🫶 Hope I see all my cute lil flowers around often! 🌻 Take care of yourselves, stay hydrated and remember you’ve been doing amazing with the cards you got given. If no one has said it, I’m so proud of you and love you! 🐝

Started: 9/27/23

Carrd: (bc I’m proud of it :>)

#SheBeeZee

[nahalism]

What would be exemples of way of being performative for other people? I’ve isolated myself for the last few years cause I’ve always felt like I could never truly be myself with other people mostly because I don’t trust anyone or anything except for me (I’m the only thing that has ever remained, I don’t think I could ever like truly trust someone below surface level)

one if the biggest things i learned when it comes to not trusting others is that its often about not trusting ourselves. people will judge us, hurt us, let us down, basically do everything we dont want them to do and fear them doing. but we'll never meet the ones who can prove that wrong if we dont allow ourselves to be open. when you lose the ability to express yourself and your heart because of harmful experiences, the experience wins & you lose in not letting it teach you. dont give it that power. im sure your a beautiful person, thats part of what led you to remain & stand strong for yourself. so trust that the next person to hurt you cant break your confidence in that. they cant take you from you. do the work. love yourself. learn how to assert boundaries (boundaries not barriers!) so that your relationshios w others dont interfere w how you show up for yourself. learn what you do want, what you dont want, and how to let go of what you think you want when its showing you its the opposite. you have what it takes to pick yourself up and put yourself out there again! your effort will not betray you & like florence scovel shinn says a person who is willing to do a thing finds they no longer need to do it. once u come as u are, u will find ur people <3

& as for examples. i was basically a prop. i could never set boundaries in the sense of 'hey this is me this is what i like. this is what i dont like' because i didnt know. my sense of self and comfort stemmed directly from if i was making people around me feel good. if i was, i felt safe and i felt invisible. if i couldnt fix it, id sit in their sadness with them. it was a bad habit but also also a symptom of cptsd. i was also hyper sensitive so would read the ppl around me's emotions and reactions to know which version of myself i could be. so id walk into a room of people, and gauge who was safe, who wasnt, what people wanted, what they didnt want, what they expected or would appreciate from me, and what they wouldnt, and id literally become that very person/thing so that i didnt have to be/feel rejected or have too much focus put on me and what i actually was for fear of being attacked for it, or attacked period. id never do expressive things, even alone in my own house, & i mean basic things like dance or sing or play too loudly for fear of being mocked or spoken badly to and it got so intense id stage 'acting normal' when i was alone cause i thought i was being watched by hidden cameras. i had no autonomy or sense of self. i simply existed to do things that made others feel better & over time i was so fragmented within that i was completely detached from any concept of myself, or my emotions and my needs. my sense of self worth = how i was able to meet the needs of others or the mood of those around me. hope i answered ur question. wishing u strength of heart and mind <3 lots of love

#ask

[winns-stuff]

LO VENT:

Okay yeah, for once it’s finally time for me to vent about LO. I know, you probably thought that it’s kinda what I’ve been doing but honestly all of those rants were just me lightly rambling, yeah I was a little annoyed but it was nothing to where I was actually hurt if that makes sense. But I’m really hurt about this, I know it’s going to be small and stuff but I’ve never been so heartbroken about something happening in LO ever since I discovered it so long ago. Like I feel like someone just reached into my chest and ripped out my heart, there’s nothing in the world right now at this moment that could really console me about this.

Okay, before I get too into my feelings and such I’ll tell you what’s going on since you’re probably confused. I would be too honestly, the opening was kinda much, but I just had to get my emotions out there first. As many of you know I’m very passionate about this webtoon because as I said before I found it when I was younger, it was at a time when I was facing big changes and I grew very vulnerable to them. I felt so alone and misunderstood by all my peers even family isolated me in my loneliness so you could imagine how happy I was to be reading a story about a young woman finding herself and growing into her identity after being lost in the identities others gave her, I felt seen and understood and I finally felt like everything I was feeling was valid, that I wasn’t as alone as I felt. I used the series as an escape from my reality and I enjoyed every bit of someone facing similar problems such as mine being able to solve them with the help of her peers and even gaining someone who loved her unconditionally like I wished and hoped someone would do for me one day.

At least that’s what I thought but after I grew tired of the slow pacing and irritating personalities I decided to take a step back from the comic as a whole. That’s when I started noticing people who did the same and soon after discovering this whole community built from opinions I’ve never even seen about Lore Olympus. I was intrigued at first and then the more I read the more everything made sense, I started to tear down the pastel colors and gooey moments that Lore Olympus presented me at first and saw just how disturbing it is at times.

Alright, now you may be wondering “winnie what does this have to do with anything that you’re feeling right now?” I’ll tell you why I decided to write that now. I wanted to emphasize how connected I felt with Persephone’s character, I wanted to show how much I really cherished and adored every aspect of her and her character. Truth is there’s still part of me that simply cannot let Persephone go, there’s still something that’s so sacred about her for me which is why the recent episodes are affecting me so much. I feel like we’re getting closer and closer to sex scenes that the fandom and characters in the webtoon have been dying for and I hate it so much, I hate that Persephone has just been destroyed and made into this walking sex doll. The character that I adored so much and related to so heavily has been deemed only important because of sex.

I know it’s not a big deal to many people and there’s probably going to be people out there who won’t understand why I feel this way no matter how many times I explain it to them but I’ve never been so distraught about a character being changed like this. It hurts that everyone keeps pushing Persephone to do such inappropriate and sexual things for a man she knows nothing about, why must she give up everything for a man who does nothing but lie to her and manipulate her? Why does everyone only care about her because she’s going to give up her virginity? Why can’t you appreciate and love her intelligence, why can’t we appreciate her kindness and nobility, why can’t we just appreciate her for existing? Why must everyone have so much excitement for Persephone only having sex. I’m so incredibly upset over that, there’s nothing more harmful to me than this.

She was so amazing she had her whole life ahead of her, why did she have to get her character defiled for a damn sex scene? She has so much more potential there’s so many things Persephone can do, so many things that would’ve been amazing, motivating and all. Why is her development, her maturity, her journey to womanhood ending inside of Hades’ bedroom. Is that all she’s good for? Is that all she was ever created for? The eyes of men to sink into her day in and day out, the sexualization and inappropriate comments, the fetishization and infantilizing, the isolation and utter loneliness she must feel because every single time she’s shown on screen she’s being exploited sexually, everything about her always has to be emphasized sexually and made the most important thing about her. She’s so much more than that, she’s so much more why why does it have to come down to this? Why is this the end of her story? She’s a goddess why is she having to forfeit everything just for him?? Why? Why?? Why???

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo

[agustdakasuga]

hi I hope that you’re doing well <3, i‘m sorry that you haven’t been getting a lot of feedback for WOAC I know that it can be quite frustrating

I have been following you and your work for quite some time now (I love your writing and blog so much..I reread everything like a thousand times :‘)) so I’ve been thinking of how I could give you feedback and maybe help you because I know that you and a lot of other people were/are so excited for WOAC, me included!! (I’ve been literally checking out your blog everyday) and what I personally noticed is that maybe getting into the story in the beginning is not as easy as in your other works?? like just in comparison maybe, I could be wrong and for all I know not know what I’m talking about rn but for example I haven’t noticed a strong bond between the characters and the build of of the story hasn’t hit me yet, I know that we yet have to get to that parts but it’s just a feeling I had but besides that I really like it so far, especially the individual characters, I don’t think that you have to rewrite the story as a whole or anything but just know that I’m here to support the process!!

I hope that this isn’t offensive or anything, also take your time to figure things out, remember that at the end of the day good things take time right? :D

hi!! So firstly, thank you so much for this! This is the kind of feedback that authors love. So no, I am in no way offended at all (compared to the others that are just filled with nasty words and hate with no intentions of growth)

But yes, I understand that this work is drastically different from others. As you know, I always try to improve my writing and all that. So let me try to share/ explain my thought process with you! (and the other readers that are reading this)

In WOAC, I tried to have a more realistic thinking approach rather than one of complete fantasy. (y/n) and BTS are complete strangers. She's still moving on from the loss of her father and she basically has no one else. Now, imagine yourself in that situation. Feeling isolated, alone, abandoned, guarded. If 7 suspicious males approach you and say they know your father, what would you do/feel?

Would you run into their open arms and agree to live with them? Agree to sell your house, which is the only thing you have left that ties you to your deceased father? So in that way, I wanted to be more realistic. I wanted to show a slow build of trust and friendship.

Looking back at my old stories, I felt that that's where I lacked. I moved the friendship and relationship too fast that it seems very scripted and unrealistic. For readers that have been with me for a long while, you know that I do like my stories to be realistic to a certain extent, or rather the best extent I can get it to.

Also, there's that... pressure getting off of BTB-EBU's success. I know everyone loved that mafia series so I'm trying to give WOAC the same level of focus as I did to those stories but at the same time, make it different. Does that make sense...? The BTB universe focused on (y/n)'s attitude, career and family, which from the readers' response, I got my intended outcome.

But I felt that I lacked in building a relationship between her and the boys. And I failed to put any focus on the boys' careers in the mafia and how that jeopardises their growing friendship and relationship.

Of course, this is just my thoughts and my personal feedback to myself. Thank you again for this lovely feedback, this really does help me understand a bit more about what readers are looking out for and how I can continue to improve myself. I really really appreciate it so much! You have no idea.

#inbox #replies #anon #thank you! #for this lovely feedback #grateful

[scalpelsister]

its oversharing hour on tumblr. cr3 spoilers below but im not tagging this bc i dont want it in the main tags. (again, really oversharing on this one, don’t reblog obvi haha, but feel free to comment or whatever)

god i have so many thoughts. too many thoughts. i think most people know that I am a laudna stan + have def done my fair share of projecting onto her w/ mental illness (schizophrenia and a little bit o ptsd). Like as part of schizophrenia, I experience cotards- for me specifically I often have both delusions and hallucinations surrounding my body rotting, or about me being undead- this was something that started in my second psychotic episode ~ 2020. I connect with undead characters, especially ones who show any sign of goodness, because I often perceive myself as being literally undead. Seeing an undead character in my favorite show- especially after seeing Sylvanas Windrunner being utterly fucked over and villainized wrongfully- was such a comforting thing for me inherently. Like Laudna was a source of hope for me- shes undead, shes weird, people might judge her for being weird or monstrous, but shes loved so deeply. Like it was a reassurance that people like me could be good and kind and be loved and have friends. That there really was hope for traumatized corpse people after all (again, keep in mind, that the last traumatized corpse person I connected with ended up having the writing team say no actually, shes evil for being a traumatized corpse, and deserves to take her own life and go to hell).

My energy rn is not letting me word things how I want to, but I can’t stress enough how important it was to see an undead who had severe trauma and heard voices in her head and was weird and off putting to most people who didn’t try to get to know her. To see her unashamedly love weird morbid creepy shit and see her embrace at least some of her weirdness. And to then see her be genuinely, deeply loved (esp by another woman. hashtag lesbianism or whatever), and be appreciated for being who she is, not despite of it. Like idk maybe its the trauma / abandonment trauma in me showing, but seeing Imogen go back to her, seeing others be unafraid to share a bed with her, seeing others show concern about HER rather than fear of her when Delilah shit happened. Like the amount of times I’ve opened up about my voices- not even bad things they say, but just having them to be met with ‘are you like... homicidal? like are you going to hurt me?’ or the gem of ‘yeah I care about you but idk if I can trust you now that I know that. You will never be allowed around my future kids if I’m not there, because you’re dangerous. Like thank you for sharing but I’m going to go now and think about it before you hurt me or something’. Like its such a low bar but shes honestly the only character I can even think of or name that wasn’t villainized or hated or otherwise had the narrative imply their life was meaningless / wrong / they where better of dead just for being like me. Like I know this may not connect with many others but its so alienating and isolating to see other people like you demonized again and again and again in fiction and seeing the same message of ‘the death of people like you is worth celebrating’ all over the place. I can’t possible put into words how meaningful it is to have even on character break that mold. To hear /anyone/ much less one of my fave actresses on my fave show (which-has been my favorite since long before I experienced cotards to clarify) that being like this and just being alive and trying to love others regardless was worth celebration. That there is hope and love waiting in the future.

I think thats why her death is hitting me so hard. I just want to see ONE character like me make it to their happy ending. Just one to say that my life doesn’t have to be a tragedy.

And I think thats why people are pissing me off SO BAD by insisting she will come back alive / not undead, that it would so cool and fun to see all of that erased. I don’t want that to be erased. Its utter total bullshit to say it would be more interesting or more impactful to see her ‘properly’ alive and not have voices anymore and forget her loved ones and how much they love her. I want her back as she was. I don’t care if others think shes broken or gross or that she should get to be alive again or whatever. She’s been alive this whole time. She’s had a soul this whole time. There’s nothing fucking wrong with her, stop trying to fix her or uno reverse her being different. It was already interesting and meaningful that she WAS different and that it wont go away and that that’s fucking ok and doesn’t make her worthless or bad or unlovable. Shut the fuck up please.

#suicide tw #(mentioned in relation to a different character from a different fandom. its complicated lmao) #(not graphic but does touch on suicide happening) #having a rough one on tumblr dot com rn lmao #I may or may not have ugly cried the whole time I wrote this #my post

[jngsjngs]

(if its not too personal) what was the specific instance that not only made you want to write hsc but to share it with us too?

i’ve always loved to write and in all honesty knew i was pretty good at it (if only because i had the support of so many incredible teachers over the years) but the most i had ever done was the occasional essay and a group project in high school in which we had to write a script and record it (sort of like an audio book). although daydreaming was a daily occurrence that project was my only attempt at fiction for several years because the thought of putting words down on paper seemed oddly perplexing. i genuinely thought nothing i had to say was worth anyone’s time so publishing my work or even reading it aloud was an impossibility.

in hindsight a lot of my insecurities stemmed from a severe case of imposter syndrome (and it’s still a burden i carry now). i don’t think i learned the significance of sharing until i took my first creative writing course a few years later. so many of my peers poured their hearts into the pieces they brought to class and i would have never known that sense of community had they not been brave enough to invite other people into their world. i’m not sure if i was inspired to write hsc solely because of that but at the very least all of these experiences gave me the confidence to believe it was actually possible.

at that point of my life my depression had taken a turn for the worst and the only place i could find solace was in stories. i read so many books and watched just as many shows but after finishing them i realized that there were only a few i felt deeply enough. something about that was incredibly isolating. looking back it was probably because mainstream media wasn’t discussing mental health to the extent that they do now so i had no idea other people struggled with it the way that i did. i came up with hsc because i wanted to be a part of that conversation in case even one person could relate.

sometimes i feel selfish because i wish i received more comments and sometimes i’m sad because a few of the ones i do receive are criticisms (sometimes constructive and sometimes not). often i get frustrated because i’m not the best at execution and even more often than that i get excited because i can recognize how much i’ve improved. most days i’m happy because those who reach out (on tumblr and ao3 in particular) are only ever kind. but i am always content because i am able to feel deeply regardless, and because i never feel as alone as i once did.

as i’ve said before rei as a character isn’t based entirely on me as a person but it’s only natural that my experiences helped shaped some of hers. i think that’s the most important part. after all, the people who read hsc come from all over the world and have lived so many experiences of their own. despite our differences there is something about the story that brings us together and it’s for that reason i continue to write it. thank u for ur patience and support all these years. i don’t think i’ve quite mastered how to express my gratitude but i hope u know wherever u are that i appreciate u.

p.s. the sun is rising and i have not slept so this might be totally incoherent (the lack of punctuation doesn’t help at all i’m sure) i apologize for the strain on ur eyes but if u made it this far i am all the more grateful