#My heart goes out to all the victims I hope they could heal

[chaifootsteps]

i should've mentioned it when we were talking about tuca and bertie and them doing things right, but the arc bertie goes through with her SA and reclaiming it thru taboo fantasies is very similar to what ive been through, right down to a therapist opening me up to this new side of sexuality, and while it all happened to me years prior to the arc happening in the show, it broke me out of my anti shipper mentality that gave me this sense of justice and rigid rightness in what i was doing.

just thought now would be a good time to bring it up too because of the allegations against you and how what happened to max is basically the same thing that's happened to me. it's such an uncomfortable feeling to know someone who brought you into this world sees you like that, and having a fictional character similar to that person to self insert with in writing has helped far more then feeling disgusted with myself ever did or has, because i can stop anytime i want, or just get to a point where i move on completely from being able to gain anything from this personally. (which im leaning towards for now,) it's like bertie's therapist said, "because this time, you're in control."

i just wish antis could at least be more open to the idea that maybe, just maybe, shaming victims for coping this way isn't helpful, and that the lack of nuance implies shaming these uncontrollable fantasies (because you can't control your thoughts and like bertie's therapist said, "brains are weird!", although ive also heard the fear and arousal part of your brain is closely related which explains so many kinks to me tbh,) is the only form of healing and getting better, which it never will be. this kind of thing, of re-exploring your trauma thru fiction like this, definitely doesn't help certain people and that needs to be respected, but for anyone it does, they shouldn't just be written off as "normalizing their abuse", because im aware enough to keep this to myself, and to other people like me.

come talk to me about me "romanticizing" horrible things in fiction when you remember vivs shows have millions of views, and THATS why her writing like a fanfic author is bad - not because she inherently is one at heart. a large audience of adults should engage with these heavy topics, (and deserve to have them be written well, even if the stans swear they don't because nuh uh it's Da Best cuz mama viv made it,) not literal children. regardless of this unfortunate demographic that's naturally been formed and then unnaturally encouraged by the creator to line her pockets with their parents money, i think people have a moral obligation to tell a well written story about dark taboo subjects when they have such a large scale of production and connections like this, with some gray area in between, because theres some pieces of media that aren't as big as vivs creations or as small as fanfic writers (compared to other indie creations like video games or shows,) either, like mouthwash, or that one horror game with a sibling incest ending. that's what i mean when i said you aren't gonna make anyone want to fuck a lizard, but that vivs story's spread sentiment that would give 1970s victim blaming, "well, what was she wearing?" arguments a run for their money in how gross they are. i don't think max is gonna make anyone want to fuck their own dad either.

i hope this all makes sense! i think this is the most vulnerable ive ever been in your ask box. thank you for being someone who makes me feel strong enough to talk about this.

No, no, it makes perfect sense! Thanks for sharing your story, Anon...that was an incredibly vulnerable thing to talk about, and it couldn't have been easy.

I don't know if it's due to social media or what, but people have gotten really, really terrible at the concept of "I do my thing that works for me over here, you do your thing that works for you over there, and even though we don't understand each other, we mind our business about it." Like you said, it becomes a different conversation the more widespread and professional your piece of media is -- the same way that feeding 1,000 people a day is different than cooking for yourself -- but when we're talking about you and me and Max and all the randos on AO3? An appropriately tagged piece of work that makes a sharp distinction between fiction and reality is harmless.

What isn't harmless is telling someone that their intensely personal coping method is wrong and shameful and that they're a dangerous, evil person because it makes you uncomfortable, and that they're either a bad survivor or lying about being one.

Here's the scene from Tuca & Bertie, because it's so well done and always relevant.

[justiceforvillains]

I would drop Stray Kids and/or Monsta X so hard if they were included in that 200 idol chat

I don't care if it's one member only, I will probably leave kpop all together

[killrisma]

It would be beneficial for everyone involved if folks online did not speculate on the validity of the accusations against Neil Gaiman. Victims are often brushed off because the accused “could never do something like that” and sadly there has been times in the past where accusations have been false. It is not our place to theorize on whether or not these accusations are true, all that does is spread paranoia and pain.

My heart goes out to the victims, I hope that this is resolved soon and that those involved can start to heal from this horrible situation.

[neonovember]

This is an idea that’s been on my mind lately because Carmy would be so protective and would 100% treat his gf like a princess, so I thought I’d send it in ifs it’s okay!!🤧

Can I please request Carmy x fem!reader where it’s based off the song “Treat You Better”, where she’s one of his chefs, and Carmy has a biiiig soft spot for her, like soft smiles, hand on the small of her back. Y/n is veryyyy soft spoken and quiet, a very stark contrast to the rest of The Beef/The Bear staff. The staff absolutely love her and are super protective of her: She’s best friends with Sydney (also she’s around the same age as Syd, early 20s), Tina sees her as a daughter, Marcus is always trying to make her laugh and asks her to try his pastries, Richie is more gentle with her than he is with everyone else, Ebra has a calmness around Y/n, Sugar (when she stops by) loves treating Y/n like the little sister she never had, and Carmy… Carmy is head over heels for Y/n. He’s so soft and gentle with her, never raising his voice at her in the kitchen, and he always has the cutest nicknames for her🤧. However… Y/n has a boyfriend, they all know it, and they all share an extreme dislike for him. He’s not very nice, and it all goes to a boiling point when they spot bruises, Y/n letting her hair fall over her face.🥺 Tina and Sydney probably noticing right as she walks in one morning, then the rest of the staff noticing too, the whole kitchen getting eerily quiet, Carmy pulling her aside to his office to talk to her, holding Y/n in his arms while she cries🥺 Carmy 100% taking his bat and beating the crap out of her bf… Now ex, and he offers for Y/n to stay with him because she has nowhere to go? Their relationship growing after that? Y/n kissing him one day, shook at herself, but he kisses her back?

July in November

carmen berzatto x fem! reader

warnings: heavy domestic abuse, controlling fiance, swearing, violence, carmen goes gives absolute no regard for felonies, (assumed) unrequited love, self deprecation, victim blaming

a/n: this entire fic is just time skips l swear, I've written something similar here as well if you liked this which i hope you did! dv is a heavy subject, and not something to trivialise. if you or someone you know is going through dv, please reach out x

banner from @firefly-graphics

The streaks of concealer do little to hide the bloom of dark purples and blues.

They stretch out, clawing up your side and past your ribs, shades of overlapping blotched bruises that were not yet healed.

You were a chef trained in Oslo for god sake, you had friends and family who loved you- and you let out a laugh when the words come out pathetic and dull. 

You were right where he left you.

You suppose from the continuous uphill of your career, the exhaustion had made it easier to just sit still, let it happen. He had proposed and you had said yes unblinking. It was what he told the countless people at dinner parties he dragged you to in attendance, 

“I had finally beat her down enough to finally fall in love with me” He smiled, his eyes shining and his grip on your waist bruising as the people smiled and laughed and you swallowed back his irony.

The cycles of abuse had started before you could truly remember, bouts of angry yelling before the hot dull beat of pain. And he was so kind after, so thoughtful and apologetic, his eyebrows furrowed and his touch gentle as he leaned over you.

Were you still a victim, if you wanted to stay just for the after?

You shake your head, slowly blinking at the reflection of your bloated torso. Peeling away your shirt gently before buttoning up one of your work shirts instead.

Your heart settled when you thought of the Bear. It was your haven, Richie’s rambled drivel, Sugar hovering every so near, Carmen with his eyes and his inked hands and his sweet mouth. It wrapped around you more tightly than those bruises ever could.

You look over to watch your fiancé, fast asleep content with a full stomach and tired fists. He was so vulnerable like that, and the feeling of anger unfurls in your gut. For once, just one time you wanted him to feel it, that gut wrenching frightened feeling.

You look over to the stone doorstep near his desk, the stupid thing that he had revered at one of his art conventions that was left keeping the door open. You wonder, just for a second, what it would feel like to lean over him with it between your hands, waiting for the slight blink of his eyes that clear away the sleep. 

Watch the fear melt into them, and smashing his fucking face with it.

You breathe deeply, arranging your hair so it is out of your face, flattening out the creases in your shit and avoiding your stomach as you stood up and grabbed your bag.

“Where are you going” 

You blink, hands gripping your work bag as his voice bellows “Work”

“Huh. We need to sort that out soon”

You stopped, closing your eyes as you fiddled with the loose threads from the shoulder strap. You knew this conversation, where he would bring up another thing in your life he wanted to talk about, as if your relationship was built on a solid base of understanding and conversation. You would wait until his voice would ripen with jealousy and rage, where thinly veiled inquisition would fall away and reveal what he truly wanted. 

You had given him enough of your life, let him change and control it. But you would soon let yourself be buried then let him take this too from you. No fucking way.

“Sure”

You pass by the door, pushing the stone to the side. It wasn’t heavy at all.

It’s when you enter the back door of the Bear do you realise you’ve spent your whole commute over holding your breath.

The smells of sauces and expensive meats lulls your anxiety into a mummering tremble, and you sigh softly to yourself as you sling your bag into your locker.

You can already hear Richie arguing, and the tired voice of Carmen biting back and you want to slap yourself for all the times you had grown annoyed at them. What you would give to hear them always, to feel this level of safety and comfort without the overhanging timer of when you would eventually have to leave.

You nod towards Sydney, carrying a large tray of roasted pecans over to Sam, her braids intricately wrapped around her head.

The walkway is framed with pictures of the family, from Mickey to the recent Polaroids of Sugar's newborn. You notice a framed picture of the team from years ago, when you had first started working at the Bear. You’re squished between Carmen and Fak, the backdrop of a renovating Bear behind you all. 

The timidiness of being new had not left then, and despite the family enveloping you as their own you had wondered why Carmen had chosen you out of all the decorated chefs that had surely applied. You had asked him this once, after an exhausting dinner rush and he had simply looked up at you from his plate of stolen steak and eggs. 

“You’ve got something, Kid. Maybe it’s because you hadn’t yet gotten the light beaten out from the culinary world but I need that. Need someone who pushes against the boundaries you know?”

You had stayed quiet as he talked

“And you’re a local. Boston isn’t for the faint of heart, you know your diners better than they know themselves. Call it prejudice, I call it a safety cushion.“

You wondered what she would think of you now, her wide eyed dream so close you could see her tight grip on her chef coat in the grainy photograph.

You follow the noise of the crew into the kitchen, when Carmen is hunched over a chopping board and Richie is pointing out problems in the seating arrangement for tonight.

He exhales, ready to start another contingent when he spots your figure walking through the entryway.

“Finally. Someone fucking competent in this place” 

“Hey Richie” You smile, tightening your apron before biting back a wince. The darkness of your life outside of the Bear had a way of seeping in at times, you had grown too comfortable.

“Hey baby, you good? yeah?” Richie replies

“Richie-“ Carmen interrupts, turning his head to face you for the first time in an hour (which you did not realise but Riche surely did) 

“Fuck off. Fuck you. You sure baby? Need me to get you somethin? I got a pack of Marlboros if you need a break”

“Leave her alone, dammit Richie, and a cigarette this early?”

“Oh! Oh! The addict wants to act holier than thou all of a sudden. Just because you slapped on a couple Nic patches-“

“It’s gum and it’s fucking working asshole”

“The L hold you up?” Richie says, throwing the finger at Carmen

“No, no, um, just got in a little fight with David” You reply, cutting your eyes away from him.

Richie rolls his eyes with a groan, a sour expression filters over his face in flash at the mention of your fiance’s name.

“That fuckin’ guy, I swear that boyfriend of yours” Richie groans

“It was my fault really.”

You notice Carmen’s movements stop abruptly, the chopping growing silent with his back turned to you.

“I highly doubt that” Carmen grumbles, before Tina and Sydney come through the door

“Hey, why were you late you missed out on that guy who tried fighting Fak-”

“Her stupid fucking boyfriend”

“Easy” Carmen replies, turning to face you again

“Hey, c’mon Carmen you of all people know that man does not deserve her one fucking bit”

“Darling you need to get rid of that man I’m telling you, he ain't treating you the way you deserve. There's no good keeping an angry man” Tina chides, eyebrows raised as she wipes her fingers on the cloth draped over her shoulder.

“Yeah, he's a dick. And he’s always just…hovering when he comes.” Sydney replies

“And always talk in this condescending tone, adding random words to sound smarter than he is” Marcus’s voice interjects, peeking from around the pastry corner

“Like pseudo-intellectual goddamn-” Tina grumbles, in lightning speed

“Yuppie” Fak continues, and Tina nods 

“All I’m saying doll, is that if you end up dumpin’ him we’d be right behind ya’. Might throw a little party here, a small one…how much does it cost to hire some fireworks?”

“Ease up guys, her love life ain’t got nothing to do with us alright. Let the girl be” Carmen voice bellows “And we got work to do”

He turns to the rest of them, shaking his head feigning annoyance at the team gathering together to gossip. And yet, his hands grip his towel tight enough to leave them white, and his teeth grind against his molars when he thinks of your boyfriend.

You don’t know how they'd react when they find out he proposed, you can’t exactly hide a ring.

“Hey” You smile towards Carmen, who’s twisted features blink into resolve when he hears you

“Hey” He nods, wincing as he pressed his fingers to his temple gingerly.

“Still got that headache?”

“I’ll be fine, just wish it would save the eye stabbing until after dinner service”

“Here”

“I’m alright-“

“Take it” you repeat, pressing some pain killers in his hand.

Carmen nods gratefully, hands clasped around yours for a second longer. Before they part.

He eyes the pills, and for a second you see this puzzled look gleam across his eyes.

He pops them in his mouth, you let out a breath from your chest quietly.

You kept your work and home life separate, Carmen didn’t need nor should carry the burden of this ugly secret that paints you from the inside out.

You had a lid on it. You were sure.

You let yourself get lost in the ingrained memory of moving around the kitchen, letting the slice of your knife against the flesh of meat and fruit melt away everything you had been shouldering the past year.

It gets busy, really busy, Richie and Carmen fail to cohabitate in the hours of the dinner service, multiple plates are dropped, you almost can’t keep up with the never ending orders coming in but its also fucking amazing. The rush of delivering every component of a plate in time, making sure the meat is cooked until just right, making sure the sauce isn't runny, it feels like dancing. 

Your legs and arms ache, you have a headache and your apron is stained and you can’t tell the difference between the end of the dinner service and hitting the last step of a choreographed dance.

The high that buzzes through your body is mirrored by everyone around you, and you take a second to sink in that feeling of euphoria as the last tables are cleared.  

“That was..” You start, un-hunching your shoulders as the rest of the team look up in a daze, surrounding the kitchen

“Fuckin’ amazing, might be our best night yet” Richie grins, bobbing his chin as it rests on his hands

“That was good..we could've been a bit better at turning the tables-” Carmen murmurs

“Oh c’mon Carmy, we can talk about the finalities later but even you can admit that was pretty good” Sydney calls out, leaning her head against the door frame, as exhausted pulls at her every feature

“Yeah…yeah it was good”

“No one go anywhere, I’ve got left over schnitzel and potatoes and I know none of you have taken a break”

“How long has it been since we’ve sat down for family?” Tina mumbles, wiping her stained apron tiredly

“Too long, I don’t mind fixin’ it up” You stretch out your arms, unbuttoning your chef's coat and folding it neatly, despite Sugar throwing them into the sink to soak for the night later.

“I’ll help” Carmen nods to you, doing the same with his apron. His dark crew neck that sticks to him reveals with every button, outlining the indentations of his chest and biceps.

Family usually consists of throwing whatever leftovers from the night's dinner service onto a large plate and proceeding to throw some forks near it. There had been a long trail of food combinations that either delighted the crew or had you throwing your towel in and going to the taco truck nearby.

Today however, the night had gone so well and had distracted you even better. You could at least make up some plates, make ‘em look pretty or whatever else your hands had been trained to do.

The rest of the team move the tables to form one large spanning diner in the middle of the Bear, the scrape of wood against flooring is all that fills the air as you and Carmen work silently. You’re good together, that sort of chemistry that only comes with understanding a person so well you can anticipate their next move. And the night feels like a dance again, moving left and right, handing him pieces of chicken and spoonfuls of sauce, wiping plates clean and centering them right.

It’s only when Richie comes tumbling through the double doors does it cause Carmen to jump, spilling the ladle of hot gravy across your shirt. You wince, Carmen lets out a garbled grunt and Richie cringes.

Carmen is quick, reaching for a nearby cloth as he begins to lift up your shirt gingerly. The sauce isn't boiling, but there is a slight stinging heat that radiates across your midsection and you're too distracted and uncomfortable that you forget yourself, and let Carmen reveal you.

It takes Carmen a second, he's pulling your shirt up just below your underbra, and his fingers pause against the fabric.

You’re confused just for a moment, but it stretches out, and you let yourself sit in the fantasy of unknowing, you let yourself imagine a life where what was sprawled across your skin was just the remnants of a soggy shirt and irritated skin.

The truth of it hits you when you watch Carmen's face change in front of you.

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t-”

“What?” Richie calls, coming closer before throwing his head back

“Jesus fuckin' christ kid” 

“I-I we got into a fight-“

“A fight? He beat you!”

“You don’t understand-”

“Maybe I don’t but this-“ Carmen gestures to the welts and colours that paint your stomach “Is one of the worst things I’ve seen in a long time”

Carmen’s hands are still gripping your shirt, the rag dropped to the floor between you now as you lower your head and let your hair cover your eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ You croak out, tongue heavy and eyes blurring with tears.

“Sorry-?” Carmen circuses down to meet your eyes incredulously “You’re sorry? Why are you fucking sorry, look what he fucking did to you!- what has he done to you?”

“Hey hey, honey you need to tell us what happened. This isn’t right, no fight can justify this” Richie whispers, crouching near you as he watches Carmen carefully.

“It was an accident”

“Do you truly believe that?” Richie murmurs softly, and you look up with a furrow of your brow. 

You turn to Carmen whose face is twisted in anger, his eyes on your midsection, his hands around your sides and around you.

“I don’t know anymore..I’m just so tired” You whimper, your throat growing tight as Carmen’s brows furrow, blinking and grinding his jaw

“I’m going to fucking kill him-“

“Hey, Carmen wait just- wait” Richie is quick to reach Carmen as he rears back

“Look at her- he can’t-FUCK”

“I know, and we will. I want to break his goddamn legs but we got to think of her. We need to get her out of this, we need to think about her first”

Carmen closes his eyes as you watch their interaction, and he turns to you as you blink the tears that drop down your cheek. He frowns and waits for your approval and you nod, and Richie lets go of him and he gathers you in his arms and lets you cry the last of your resolve on his shoulder.

You don’t tell him anything, and he doesn’t ask. He lets you wet his shoulder as the silence that sits in the kitchen is consumed by your muffled cries instead. 

The commotion causes the rest of the team to flood in, putting the pieces together when they see your shoulders shaking with grief and your unbuttoned top. The bear hung with the sick reality of a beat woman, and the once hungry crew now felt the nauseous image in front of them fill their stomach.

Sydney is the one that eases you out of Carmen’s arms, and pulls your hair back as she whispers apologies into your ear. She takes you to the emergency room to make sure nothing is broken. When the nurses greet you by name she waits until you're in the examination room before sobbing into Tina’s arms.

“How did I not notice, I see her every goddamn day, how did I not notice he was hurting her?”

“Don’t do that, don’t blame yourself. There is only one person to blame”

The rest of the team follows, and they all sprawl across the waiting room, heads between their hands.

After one of the junior doctors gives you the all clear, and Carmen and Richie follow up on the police report you make your way down the linoleum hallway in the crumbled stained shirt that had started this all.

You blink as you watch the faces of everyone you love look up in worry, exhaustion is written into their bones and still they sit in the too small waiting chairs for you. You had never felt a love like that before, so profound and overwhelming clear and you breathe it in deeply like it's the last thing you’ll taste.

“I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t you fuckin dare-”

“I know, I know, just please hear me.”

They relent, and you wait until they all nod towards you before continuing

“You guys have taken me as your own, made me feel a part of something greater than myself.  I don’t want you to think I was unloved” Your voice heightens with the wet tears that fill your throat

“Every single time I came through those doors I felt it okay? I never understood the power of it, of love, but I feel it now and I felt it then. It just got muddled in the middle of all of this, of all the things I keep hidden. And that is my fault, but you guys, the Bear? You guys kept me alive” You whisper the last part, your voice caught in your throat as you try to still the shake your hands.

“You did nothing wrong baby, nothing. It’s hard to leave isn’t it? It’s hard to even say it” Ebra is the first one to whisper, holding your hands gently and carefully. You look at him, as his eyes gleam with the heaviness of his past and you don’t quite understand how, but you believe he knows that well. 

“We’re your family, whatever it is that you're dealing with we shoulder it to, we carry that burden. That is what we're here for, and you can take all the time that you need. Let us help you, but you know what happens now, yes?” Richie murmurs

“I need to get out”

“Damn fucking right you do. And fast, I know it's going to be hard but you need to act like everything is normal. Get in, pack a bag and get out.”

You breathe in deeply, remembering all the half packed duffle bags that had been left near the door. This time you wouldn't be able to back out, this time Carmen would make sure of it.

“Where’s Carmen?” You suddenly say, and Richie shifts his gaze to the exit sign.

“Maybe give him a few moments Kid” Richie murmurs, but you ignore him, moving quickly towards and out of the doors into the smoking area in the alleyway.

You spot him hunched over, back against the stone wall, trails of grey smoke filters from his mouth as you tsk loudly when you near him.

He raises his head up, widening his eyes before looking down at the cigarette.

“You were doing so good” You smile softly

“Yeah? Felt like pulling teeth, not grabbing for one every couple hours.”

“But those chewing gums”

Carmen shakes his head “Don’t tell Rich, but they were fucking disgusting”

You let out a hearty laugh, leaning back on the wall beside him.

Carmen takes one last deep drag, before pressing the butt of the stick into the wall that isn't near you.

It’s silent, and you feel him watching you for a long time before his voice replies in a croaky tear filled tone you had never heard come out of his mouth before.

“Goddamn it kid”

“I know” You reply instantly, the tears that you thought had left you were big fat liars.

“I want to blame myself, I will for a long time but this isn’t about me is it”

You shake your head furiously, it was so far apart from him. 

“What can I do? What can I do to make it better?” Carmen whispers, turning to face you fully now, eyes red and blonde curls messy across his brows.

“It’s not something you can fix Carm, you just got to let me do it. Let me walk away completely”

Carmen grits his teeth, “I should’ve made more attention-”

“How? Between renovating the Bear, organising the menu, fucking opening and maintaining the dinner service every night?”

Carmen shakes his head and you tug at his arm gently

“I didn’t let you notice Carm, I hid it well sometimes I even forgot about it. The bear, you? You let me forget, you let me feel so safe I forgot what he was doing to me”

Carmen reaches for your hand, holding onto it gently 

You shake your head, shaking the tears along with it. You hadn’t so much as let yourself hear the truth of what had been happening, but it flowed out of your mouth like a river into Carmen.

“He got drunk one night” You whisper, biting your cheek as you bristle at the memory of it

“He got drunk one night, and started accusing me of these horrible things. Things I would never do. And when I tried talking to him he just turned to me with this look in his eyes, and it was so unlike him Carm. It was like someone else had come and taken his body, and his voice and his mouth”

“And when I reached for him he reached back. And then I suppose I got used to being afraid of him”

“I don’t know what changed that night, but it did. Or maybe he had always been that way and I had been to blind by the feeling of being wanted that I ignored it. But it got worse, he hit me, but he started controlling what I was doing. Always flinging my phone in my face so that he could look for something that wasn’t there, eyes always scrutinising me when I came home fucking exhausted from the Bear.”

“That was how it started, and I guess it never quite ended” You murmur, and when Carmen drags his thumb across your cheek, you understand the rage that he had kept covered for you.

“I’m going to hurt him. And that's more for me than it is for you, I know it and I don’t care. He doesn't get to walk away.” Carmen replies after a beat, and his voice is even. You can see his anger from before slipping into the darkness of his pupils, but his voice is clear and devoid.

“I know” You murmur

“And you’re going to stay with me till we get you a place. Tina and Syd offered and well the whole team, but I can’t-”

“I know, you can’t put them in danger”

“No. I can’t let it happen, you being alone, him somehow getting to you. You being hurt again-” Carmen shakes his head, grinding his jaw as he cuts his eyes away.

“Okay” You mumble, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your secret that had weighed you down every day fall away.

The month after had passed quicker than any other time in your life. And for that you were grateful. You had packed a bag and moved into Carmen's apartment that night, and he and Richie had made good on their promise. They watched, as well as the rest of the Bear with a sneer as your fiance was carried into the police station, and you watched the mirror of your injuries multiplied across his face. 

The police had been slow in taking action, even you know this, so you suppose their tight lipped expressions at the beaten man they found in your trashed apartment made up for that.

Carmen slept near the door for the first two weeks, a bat in his hand and his notebook of recipes filled with scribbled annotations. Tossing and turning enough times, made you wrap your blanket around yourself and join him by the door. You would wake up some nights, in a sweat from the terror of your nightmare imagining him somehow finding you, and you would join him those times as well.

The truth of all that had happened still had not yet been told, and you doubt that it ever will. But you were okay with that, and Carmen was too. And so when your fiance had been tried and sentenced, and the promise of broken bones hung over him even years after, Carmen had made no mention of finding you a place. 

And so you stayed, and made a home for yourself. Let your shoes get muddled and clutter the hallway, have your toothbrush besides his own. Move in the last pieces of yourself that had been left in that prison to a place that could maybe change them.

You spent Thursdays with Richie, he’d wait at the foyer for you and he'd take you out for lunch like clockwork. Divulging in your week as he did his, he let you steal some of his cigarettes and you let him ramble to you. Richie had surprised you, when all was said and done. He had known what to do, knew how to talk to you, and you think you credit him to a lot of where you were now. You suppose he blames himself a little as well, so you don’t mind that Thursdays were his way of checking up on you.

You let the team act the same way, Tina bringing you plates of food and tupper wares of lasagna till Carmen's fridge was hard to open, Sydney calling every day, Ebra and Marcus making sure you had someone who could walk you home if Carmen had to stay back. And when you had finally had enough, they nodded and backed away and let you out of their grip.

You're crouched in the fire escape of Carmen's building, passing a bottle of wine that you had snuck from service. 

“I visited him today”

“What?” Carmen replies, knowing immediately who you were talking about.

You shrug your shoulders, “I was too much of a mess to confront him, and the court proceedings left me too numb to even face him. But I went today, and I told him. What he had done, how he had changed.”

“But then he laughed and I punched him in his goddamn mouth”

“Atta girl” Carmen grins, his smile filling up the entire bottom of his face.

“So I can’t ever come back to the Boston Corrections facility, and boy am I glad. You know what this means though right?”

“Hm?” Carmen mumbles with a mouthful of street tacos

“You can’t ever get yourself thrown in prison” You chide, and you smile when he throws his head back in laughter

“Seriously Carm?” You bemoan, resting against the living room entryway

“Yes, the bed is strictly meant for you. What do you take me for? Letting a woman sleep on the couch” Carmen gruffs, carefully placing the duvet over the couch cushions.

“It’s been nearly a year since I’ve moved in, Carmen. I don’t think it's ridiculous to assume we can share a bed together”

Carmen grinds his jaw, swallowing back grunt at the thought of sharing a bed with you. As if it was no big thing, as if Carmen would be able to sleep with you next to him.

“It’s called being a host”

“I signed the lease 2 months ago, we’re technically de-facto” You raise your eyebrows, folding your hands across your chest

“The only time I’ll let the government decide what we are is when-if I put a ring on that finger” Carmen replies, the little slip causing him to cut his eyes from you and back to the duvet that was already folded.

You shake your head with a laugh “This you’re way of proposing Carm? Take a girl out for dinner first”

Carmen mumbles under his breath, flattening the duvet with his inked hands before his phone buzzes

“Goddamnit, that’s Richie. 

“Leave that sofa and let's go down to meet our friends and have a nice time. God knows we’ve earned more than a few drinks at Nick’s” You reply, swiping Carmen’s phone

“Hey!”

“You weren’t even going to answer him” You roll your eyes.

You send Richie a text that was all apologetic and none grammatically correct as you shuffle out of your work pants into some jeans. 

The team was already at the bear, halfway through the first round of drinks and you’d be damned if you let Carmen make the both of you late.

Carmen is in jeans as well, and the white shirt he always dons fits around his chest tightly. You can lie to yourself most days, but in times like this, where you both live in this domestic bubble your mind wanders.

You don’t let it too much.

But when you're visiting family, and you pass by the Louisiana welcome sign planted in the roadway, and the weather gets warm and the nights stretch out you let yourself think of him. You let yourself imagine a life where he was entwined, in you, your life, your days while you drink on the porch of your family home.

The thought of being in anything new scares you to no end, your past finds you in moments you least expect and dredges you down to the same feeling you felt when you were with him.

But Carmen was your past too wasn’t he? He was muddled and interlinked with all the memories that make your chest ache and your hands shake. Carmen didn’t feel new..you had already been living with each other for a year now, and you suppose the way you both flow into each other's lives was no different.

You’d be together, in the way you had always been but different also. You’d get to grow familiar of the taste of him, you’d get to feel him under your skin, beneath your fingers, and he’d sleep in that fucking bed for the first time in a year.

Then the sun would dip below the horizon, the sounds of the insects and birds would come back to you, and the creeping shadow of guilt and insecurity would remind you of who you were again. 

You’d taste the bitter embarrassment of forcing Carmen to be that way with you, throwing your head back as you gulp down the beer in your hand as you try to stave away the taste. The dream disappears each time from you, like the oranges and reds that paint the Louisiana sky every evening.

“Hey, we going or what?” Carmen says, his eyes narrowing at, you noticing the way your eyes glaze over.

“Yeah, yes” You nod, swallowing the thoughts of him quickly as you finish tying your boots and let Carmen lock the door behind you. 

The bar is surprisingly crowded on a Tuesday night, and you have to squeeze past crowds of leather wearing bikers before finally seeing the team seated in a long booth at the back.

“Finally!” Richie yells, hands in the air and his beer swishing out of the neck.

“We were about to send a search party” Tina smiles, looking toward you with a glint in her eyes when she notices Carmen’s arm at your back.

“Aren’t you guys like, a 2 minute walk from this place? Fak got here before you” Marcus replied, his old fashioned nursed in your arms.

“I had no involvement in our tardiness, he was too busy fixing his makeshift couch bed”

“Oh don’t tell me your still sleeping on that” Richie’s eyes widen

“You know that ain’t even a good couch right? We found it on the side of the road-“ 

“It’s not good for your back Carmen, all those cushions” Ebra shakes his head disapprovingly.

“It’s perfectly fine Ebra, and who would I be if I let a woman sleep on the couch?” Carmen grumbles, as both slide into the booth next to Sydney.

“I mean, there is an easy straightforward solution” Sydney murmurs, and everyone turns to her quickly.

“You could both just sleep in the same bed together” She replies, after looking at everyone dumbfounded.

“Only married people share a bed, that’s Sicilian tradition”

“Yeah, mixing work and personal life isn’t-“

“Mixing? They already live together!” Sydney replies, defensively.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already” Four murmured, before snapping his mouth closed when Carmen narrows his eyes to him.

“It’s not about fucking tradition, or whatever. I’m not gonna put her-you in that situation and make you uncomfortable”

“Why would you make me uncomfortable?” You murmur without thinking, and the booth goes quiet.

Carmen shakes his head, blinking as you remain quiet.

You wince at the silence, maneuvering your body quickly out of the booth as you almost fall out.

“Uh-I’m going to get a drink” You reply quickly 

Carmen's body isn’t fast enough for his legs and he stands up from his position on the booth quickly, almost tumbling over.

 “I’ll come with you”

You shake your head, forcing a tight smile as you wave him off.

“It’s okay, I know your order” You reply quickly, turning around without seeing the look on Carmen’s face.

You slide into one of the vacant barstools, signalling to the bartender as they make the rounds across the counter.

The rows of silver bracelets that hang around the bartender's wrists cling as they mix and shake drinks, and you let yourself get lost in the glittering light show of them reflecting off the bar lights. They distract you enough to not notice the man that now leers over you.

You flinch when you feel his hand touch your shoulder, and when you turn expecting one of the guys from the Bear you're taken back when you're met with a five o clock shadow and a stink of vodka.

“What's a girl like you doin’ all alone?” 

“I’m good” You grit out from between your teeth

“Oh c’mon, you girls love to play hard but what you really need-”

“I said leave me alone asswhole” You spit, roughly moving his latched fingers from your shoulder. 

The man sneers, his voice growing louder and sloppy as he begins to swear at you. His hands find their way to your waist, and the shiver of disgust turns into a familiar sharp pain as you shout out.

“You fucking bitch” The man starts, before you see the flash of dirty blonde curls cover your vision and the feeling of his fingers around you is wrenched off.

Carmen’s hands are around his neck, and he slams him into the wooden floors of the Bar with ease. He holds him there before turning to look up at you, his eyes blown out and his eyebrows furrowed behind his curls. Your chest heaves as you meet his gaze, and you watch as his eyes trail down your body, almost surveying the extent of your injuries and filing it into his mind so that it is all he thinks about when he breaks the skin across his knuckles.

You watch Carmen work, watch the way his shoulders and back contorts under every movement that lands a punch into the man's face. The buzzing chatter of the bar increases, as people begin to take notice of the shouts of frazzled swears and slobby slurs that leave the man's mouth. Someone screams there is a fight, and the bartender mutters obscenities as they try to push through the crowd.

Carmen lands punch after punch into his face, with no real sense of stopping as his movements grow more and more crazed with every crack of skin and dribble of blood that paints his hands. Carmen's eyes look determined, like he had a goal to all of this, and when Richie and the rest of the team pushes past the crowd and shouts out to him to stop, he looks up at you do you know.

You didn’t get to see what he had done to your husband, or how. But now, he takes his time with the man under him who kicks and fails, blubbering out blood and drool. He continues to stare at you, and the rest of the patrons look on in horror as the man under Carmen becomes disguised by the brutality of Carmens fists across his body. You hear the crack of bone, and when the man screams out a loose and garbled apology from the swollen tongue of his mouth, does Carmen flick his eyes down to him.

“You’re sorry? Yeah?” Carmen murmurs, softly

The man nods eagerly, his mouth filling with blood and his eyes swollen

“I’m not sure I believe that” Carmen replies, sending his foot into the mans stomach as he keels over

“Okay, Carmen that's enough” Richie calls out

“All I did was ask her a question!” The man screams out, his words jagged and unclear

“Hey, you shut the fuck up” Richie replies, before clocking his head to try and meet Carmens gaze who is back on you

“Look man, I get it. That one time wasn’t enough, but you can’t keep doing this”

Carmen grinds his teeth, as you look on in awe as his knuckles bleed violently, throwing his arm up and swinging down onto the man.

You got what you needed from this, and so when you step closer to Carmen and turn your head to the side you can only think of one thing

“I’m banned for at least 12 months” 

You watch his fingers loosen around the man's bloody shirt, and Carmen wipes his hands across the man's chest before slowly straightening up from his crouched position.

“Get the fuck out, the both of you before the cops get here” The bartender grits out, shaking his head.

Carmen nods, “I’m not fucking sorry”

“Yeah yeah I know” The bartender rolls his eyes, before you grab Carmen's arm and push through the gawking faces of onlookers

You find a door leading out to a side alleyway, and you both fall out from the door into a combined heap.

“I had to do it okay? The way he was looking at you and that fucking hand around your side I couldn’t just let him-“ Carmen starts, chest heaving up and down and the splatter of spit and blood across his jaw

You don’t let him finish the rushed words that fall out of his mouth before you cover it with your own. Gripping onto the loose collar of his shirt, you drink down the anger and violence that had been festering on the both of you.

Carmen tastes sweet, like the cranberry jus he had been preparing, and rough too, like his worn workmen jacket and the pepper taste of his nicotine gum.

You realise then that you would never taste something as great as that, and that you would be chasing the feeling of how Carmen’s lips against your own vibrates through you from head to foot.

You pull away with quickness, chest heaving and eyes wide as you feel Carmen’s mouth warm your chest.

Carmen doesn’t blink, he stares at you, the brittle Chicago winter blowing his hair across his forehead and the distant sound of sirens and he stares at you.

“I’m not sorry” You whisper, pressing your lips together

“Good” Carmen replies before you’ve even uttered the last word.

And when you blink the cold smoke of his breath is over you again, his inked fingers cradle your head and he takes your mouth again.

You don’t stop the crash of your open mouths and dipping tongues until the warmth of Carmen covers you entirely, until November in Chicago feels like July.

taglist !

@kpopgirlbtssvt @hansfics @nolita-fairytale @parmforcarm @rooster-bradshaw

[soyeonsbabygirl]

If anyone here defends Taeil or supports him in any sort of way at all despite him being guilty. You are not welcome here. I will block you.

This man hurt and traumatized people and possibly has ties to the nth room. SM the company that kept Lucas during his sexual assault case immediately removed Taeil. That should tell you that whatever excess evidence there is, is enough to get him kicked out. Therefore meaning that this is true.

Using Hyuna as a way to say “Ggs aren’t good either!!” Is fucking stupid. Yes Hyuna is a bad person but the reason why people don’t like her is because she is openly engaged to someone who is in burning sun. She KNOWS what he did and still chooses to stand by him and support him.

And while on the topic of ggs, we won’t see this with them. The reason being the worst scandals they get in are dating and bullying scandals. We don’t hear about them R*ping someone, stalking them for 6 years, or threatening them.

At the end of the day, we do NOT know these men. Idols like any celebrity put on a front of who they want us to see. We don’t know them personally at all, they could be terrible people but we would not know. I know it is scary for bg Stan’s because they are terrified to know if their fav is on that list and my heart goes out to them.

This whole scandal proves yet again what people have been saying about men and male idols for years (especially after burning sun). It may be “not all men” but it is always fucking men and too many people are hurt. My heart goes out to the victims who I hope can heal and recover from the trauma that this disgusting person has caused them.

I’ll link some helpful threads later today on more of the situation and some more Korean women sharing their stories of what has been happening to them. Stories that the media will never cover so they need the help of people outside of Korea to bring these issues to light. Please educate yourself on what is going on.

[universaldreamgirl]

To Whom It May Concern,

I want to preface this by saying that yes, this post is extremely directed but necessary for the concerned reader. I am not writing this to dig up the past, as I know how hard we've worked to move past it. But for me to truly move on from my half of the experience, I need to let all of this out. And when I say my half of the experience, I am not referring to what he did to me, I mean what happened between us. I hope you read this knowing that it is coming from the purest intent, I do not want to further cut your wounds. Ever.

What he did to us was the worst thing that I have ever experienced. Although our abuse was very different, the abuse was still very calculated, and to put it simply, disgustingly vile. Yet what made it worse was that our abuse collided, creating a catastrophe of conflict between us that we ultimately could not shake. And I think that because our abuse collided it made my experience even worse than what it already was. We both tried our hardest to understand each other, our point of views, why we acted how we did. We had open and honest conversations, and although it did not work out between us, I still appreciate those efforts. I learned that because our abuse collided, our healing needed to be separate. I didn't realize that then.

You and I connected. A strong intense bond that unfortunately was built off of trauma. I recently heard somewhere that bonds fostered from trauma do not last, and I think we are proof of that. But that does not mean that we have to stay enemies forever (not assuming you think we are but ?). The reason I did not respond to your text messages was because they broke my heart. My heart sunk reading them, and it never rose back up--it just stayed there. I was heartbroken hearing that in any capacity you thought that I had malicious intentions towards the relationship you had with him. Although we were forced to be enemies by him, I never wanted you to be abused. I never wanted you to be treated the way he treated you. From the very beginning to the very end and even now, I never wanted you to experience what you did. It broke my heart that you may have thought that I did, and it shattered me knowing that I would never, in any lifetime want that for you or intentionally break up your relationship. He was calculated beyond our understanding, and I'm tired of coming up with billions of theories for what he did. But I hope that you understand that I was never willingly a part of his schemes. He pawned me, just as he pawned you. And I'm sorry you went through that. We're both victims at the end of the day.

However you react to this, I hope you understand my message. Whether you read this tomorrow, six months from now, or a year from now, I hope you can understand that I never intended to hurt you. For me to heal, I need to get that across to you. And if you were to read this, laugh at it, or even share it with others, that's your business. But I do hope that you read, process, and hopefully believe this.

I am also not expecting a response from you in any form. That is not necessary. Like I mentioned, our healing processes need to remain separate, therefore direct communication like texting is not necessary. I respect all boundaries you may have. All I would like is for you to read it at some point.

I was recently rewatching TATBILB 2, and Lara Jean had such a mature and honest realization about her relationship with Jen that I personally resonate with. She tells Jen that she was convinced that Peter would never get over her, but in actuality she herself couldn't get over Jen. I had that realization. As I am healing from what I experienced with him, I realized the one thing I could not get over was you. This is what allowed me to separate my experience with him, from my experience with you. Although they were different, they still caused great pain.

Lara Jean then goes onto introduce a Korean word her grandmother taught her: Jung. "It's the connection between two people that cannot be severed. Even when love turns to hate, you will always have tenderness for them in your heart." I think I have Jung with you. After the anger I felt post-mediation dwelled, yes there was still pain, but there was also a bittersweet feeling for you. As cheesy as this sounds, at the end of the day we're just girls. Two girls who are one year a part whose lives were intertwined from an unexpected evil. Two girls who are young, naive, hopeless romantics who at one point fell for the same guy who recked our lives. Yet, we survived. I know nothing about your life currently, but I am sure you are surviving.

After everything we went through together, that tender, bittersweet feeling is there for you because I always knew (although sometimes it was not always clear) that you were not my enemy.

I wish you nothing but healing.

Sincerely,

Toni.

[yami-yomiel]

hello! apologize for being absent on tumblr - life had be in it's clutches for a bit.

but that's not the point, i came out to say that i do not support Alex Kister and whatever BS he's gotten himself into. my heart goes out to the victims, DB, Ven, Donut, and everyone else whose been affected- the 3rd person mentioned I'm actually friends with.

for those who want to know my say on it - i am completely on the victims side. while i know some people say to stay neutral in case this is just a lie [which i doubt but given how everyone this week has been called out for being an abuser in some way - i could understand.] there's too much evidence that suggests that kister was an asinine person from behind the scenes - and i can't stand by the sidelines ignorantly ignoring the issues in front of me.

i will say, I can actually confirm the things that went on - well, really 1 thing- catacord's whole dress compliment. I was there when that happened - I was very parasocial with Alex Kister [though I never acted on it] I felt jealous seeing him compliment that person, I felt literally sick to my stomach because I was so attached to this image of him. the fact that Kister had such an environment and enabled it makes me feel terrible. I could've been a victim if I had continued such behavior (in a realization way). regardless, I won't post any more TMC-related content - as honestly, I haven't been very fixated on it for a while. some bits of my ocs may change, I've heard some people may ocify their Aus and what not - and I might follow suit of course, my sona may have to change as well as they literally have AK on their shirt - not to mention how Betsy is a tmc oc -though those are easy fixes.

all in all, I'm so sorry to the victims. I'm so sorry you guys were manipulated, groomed, and predated on by someone like him. and i hope you all can heal from this situation - god bless you.

thank you, and please believe the victims.

goodnight.

[teethkid67]

i havent said anything personally on the situation bc im not sure that its my place & not sure what my next move is .

first off shelby has been incredibly brave and as someone who doesn't watch her and hasnt ever, ive felt mostly that it was best for me to be supportive in a quiet way & that it wasnt my place to give my input . most of all i didnt want to reduce her solely to her abuse and "victimhood" as to me it feels extremely counterproductive to post only about that when she is obviously more than what she went through . it felt disingenuous to begin posting about it as if i was someone who's always cared about shubbles content when honestly im not . bc at the end of the day its not about me and its not about her abuser , its about shubble and ive never been a member of her community .

i dont want my silence to be interpreted as me not caring about the situation or not believing her because i do ; i don't want to speak where my voice isnt needed or could take away from others . from some of the responses ive been seeing though i feel its far more important to listen to and boost her voice than be quiet .

i dont want to talk about him because ultimately this is about platforming shelby and what shes gone through . that said i HAVE watched, posted about and supported her all-but-named abuser , so im involved at least on that level and i want to say i am horrified by the abuse shubble has described.

the general reaction to her coming forward i have seen on this site and others , from one end of the spectrum (she hasnt said his name so we cant know / its not that bad / blatant excuses and defense of him) to the other (leaktwt / posts about how hes always been a creep / jumping down the throats of anyone who words their thoughts in a way they deem wrong) has been horrifying to witness . some of the most unproductive commentary ive seen on an issue like this and i was here from cmc to drm .

im deeply upset and feel i should say somewhere that some of the shit ive seen is unacceptable and contradictory to shelbys initial point, which i understand to be 2 things: 1) highlighting how abuse is not always obvious, or 'normal', and ways to recognize these situations as a victim 2) to highlight her own personal experiences and to stop both her own abuser and others from being platformed .

mcytdom is NOTORIOUS for "drama" like this and similarly well-known for being unable to boost / listen to / BELIEVE victims or at least leave them the fuck alone . to anyone who's ever been groomed or abused, esp my mutuals who have received extremely insensitive messages and feedback in wake of this , my heart goes out to you and i hope you are doing alright & know how appreciated and strong you are . shelby, niki, and other victims of abuse should be listened to and celebrated for both their bravery and strength and for who they are as people .

on a more personal note heres ig what im going to do going forward

this is my blog & im not leaving it , wont be deleting any posts either , mutuals id love to stay in touch if youre moving out or moving on .

very likely ill still be here in the smp hell . just gonna have to see how i feel about it all . in the three and a half years ive been drawing reading and writing about these characters a lot has changed including my perspective . ultimately tho its not about me

general message i want to get across is that im glad shelby is healing and getting the help she needs, as well as doing well enough to help others recognize the signs . love you my mutuals and friends and followers . take care of yourselves

[shamelcss]

the last few days have been difficult, and i've been sitting with so many thoughts and much sadness that i'm struggling to navigate. unsure of where to place and express my grief. then this blog popped into my head. while it doesn't look like it anymore bc it evolved over the years and grew with me, once upon a time this was filled with 1d posts. this was one of my main outlets and connection points to a band and community i held so dearly and brought me to lifelong friends. that will never stop meaning something to me. if you were to look back at my blog during that time, too, you'd see that liam was my favorite. liam was everything... i mean, everything. i absolutely adored that man and he truly helped me navigate awful times in my life. i mean, they all did, but i could always relate to liam and zayn the most, particularly regarding struggles with bullying and mental health. last night i found an old post of mine on my stan twitter from 2014 stating "my entire existence is based on the single fact that liam payne is an actual living and breathing human being" which perfectly sums up how much i adored him (while also breaking my heart in equal measure). in recent years, i have not supported liam at all. i think that sentiment is fairly common. as a victim of predatory adults online and abuse, it was incredibly disheartening to hear the things that have come to light over time. someone who had once helped me through the darkest times of my life was guilty of things i had experienced personally. still, it saddens me to know how deeply he struggled with addiction and mental health, and i wish he could have gotten the help he needed. i wish he could have been held accountable for the hurt he caused and grown as a person. i wish he could have healed from all of his traumas. this whole situation is incredibly tragic and i can't quite wrap my head around it. i keep thinking of his son, and his family. his girlfriend. the boys. his ex and other victims. i hope they are able to continue to heal, and if they need to continue sharing their stories to do that, i hope everyone will have the compassion to allow them the space to do so without hate. it is okay to acknowledge that somebody may not have turned out to be the person you thought they'd be, and still grieve the person they used to be and who they were capable of becoming if things had been different. it is okay to sympathize with how somebody suffered, it doesn't mean you condone how they acted or treated others while they were suffering. things are not black and white and there is so much more nuance in life than people like to allow. my heart really goes out to everyone affected by liam's passing. everyone struggling with how to navigate their grief and how to feel - let yourself be sad, let yourself be angry, let yourself be nostalgic. feel everything you need to feel on behalf of your inner child and your current self. don't let anyone make you feel weird or bad for it. one direction meant so much to millions of us in our most formative years. this is one of the first big losses our generation has experienced of a star from our time.

anyways i didn't mean for this to get so long but it has helped me to process and flesh out my thoughts, so maybe it will help some of you to read. i wish we could all hug each other right now. i will always love this fandom, and i will always love the boyband of our time. they had fun, they were normal guys, and they were terrible terrible dancers. 🥹❤️

[mbav-obsessed]

Sooo...I’m conflicted.....

TW: Grooming, grooming allegations

Okay, so I just wanna say something about Atticus’ allegations because it’s been a couple days now since finding out and I have thoughts. Ones that may have changed since my initial reaction. That, and I’ve been getting tons of anon questions regarding how I’ve been doing since then.

First off, I wanna say that people may not agree with what I’m about to say but HEAR ME THE FUCK OUT, OKAY? Please don’t immediately come for me and yell at me. Hear me out. Okay? Okay, here we go, long post ahead…….

If you’ve been following this blog for the last couple of days, you’ll know that I’ve decided to log back on here and see everything I’ve missed. That being said, you can probably imagine how shocked I was when I saw a post from someone else saying something along the lines of “Sooooo is Atticus just gonna ignore these allegations oooorrrrr….?” And I’m like “Hold the fuck up….what did I miss? WHAT ALLEGATIONS???!??!!” My jaw dropped and my heart shattered after looking it up and watching the victim’s two TikToks (the first was the initial one exposing him and the second one explaining how everything happened).

My immediate reactions were shock, anger, disappointment, disbelief....you name the negative emotion, I probably felt it. I even texted my sister and told her what was happening with proof.

My reaction was so strong because Atticus actually has responded to my comments on Instagram and Twitter multiple times over the past 9.5 years. They’re on here if you look DEEP through my archives. Nothing even close to how he responded to her, but he’s aware of my existence.

Now, I mention this because not only have I been one of his biggest fans since I was 14 (I’m now 25, turning 26 in less than a month), but I’m also in a wheelchair. In my mind, I was thinking That could have been me....I’m 2 years older than her, but he could have noticed the chair and targeted me....

Nobody has ever taken advantage of me like that, but that was the thought that went through my head because I know people can be sick and do that. I was just shocked that he would even have the audacity to talk to a 16 year old girl with THAT intention later on.

I unfollowed him on everything I had him on because why wouldn’t I? I even thought about deleting his music and MBAV off my devices.

It has been a couple days now and I’ve had time to cool down and really think. Now, I want to say that I in NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM CONDONE WHAT HE DID. Because NOBODY in their 20s, no matter who they are, should ever be trying to flirt with an underaged kid, let alone a 16 year old. I also 100% believe the victim and my heart goes out to her, and I hope she continues to heal.

(Now for the part people may attack me on.....) With all of that being said...I want to give Atticus the benefit of the doubt. I hate what he did, it bothers the hell out of me, but as far as we know, he hasn’t done it to anyone else. Once is still disgusting, so I’ll probably still back off and not support him as much as I did before to keep my guard up, but I don’t think I’m going to cancel him completely.

For example, I’m still gonna watch the upcoming 3rd season of The Hardy Boys when it comes out but that’s because I’m already invested in the show, and it’ll be the last season. Same if anything ever comes up for My Babysitter’s a Vampire because come on, why the fuck wouldn’t I?! However, I will not be going out of my way to spend money on his content (his music, his movies or shows if I can’t stream them, etc). Same goes for here, like, I might reblog or make something related to a show or movie he’s in, but not actually him (interviews and whatnot). However, this may also change as time goes on or if he fucks up more.

So yeah. I’m conflicted. TL;DR: I absolutely hate what Atticus did and am disgusted by it, but I’m not outright cancelling him for it while still keeping my guard up.

You guys can do whatever. Cancel him completely or not, I get it and I support you

[chaifootsteps]

I know there are lots of people who relate/related to Blitz, and it breaks my heart that they have to see all the horrible messages both the show and the fandom are perpetuating.

There is rarely such thing as a perfect victim. People are complicated and messy. They lash out and have coping mechanisms that are destructive towards both themselves and others. This doesn't mean they aren't victims. And being held accountable for the harm they've caused doesn't mean they don't deserve love, care, and healing themselves.

And my sincerest hope is that anyone who relates to Blitz is able to disconnect enough and see that the show and fandom's messaging around him doesn't reflect on them. My heart goes out to ever abuse victims/survivor who got into HH and HB because they saw themselves in the characters, only to be met with such damaging, rancid narratives. I hope they all find healing in communities that value them. Because it's been made clear as day that they won't find it with Viv or her army of sycophants.

100%, this. It can't be said enough.

You're not deserving of suffering because you're complicated and messy, and certainly not because you "could have said no harder."

[zkaixry]

　 　 Dead. Unmistakably, irrevocably. Death painted his throat, splashed ugly colors on his face. Even his hair, silky smooth as ever, was tainted with it. His last breath was just seconds ago, and then seconds unfurled into eternities, and he was not breathing.

　 　 Maybe if I wait long enough he'll suck air in, he'll blink, say my name again?

　 　 But he was lying here, unmoving, not breathing. So I shook him and shook him again, violently, begging him to come back to me. His head was lolling back and forth, but those movements were made not out of brilliant red life that once was flowing through his veins, no. They were made of black and blue imprints that death had scattered on his body.

　 　 So I lifted the death off the floor, carried it to the kitchen and sank a knife into its heart, for it took away my one true love.

　 　 And then unmoving silence fell onto our house, and then seconds passed since its last breath, and then seconds unfurled into eternities

This piece is about domestic abuse. The victim will always be the one to protect, and the abuser will always be the one to blame, but abuser was also once a victim. I don't believe that people are inherently bad; it is other people that make them evil. And this chain goes on and on, until someone breaks it with love.

But sometimes anger takes away the better of person, and they hurt their dear ones, because someone hurt them long ago so badly that damage was irreparable, and no amount of love could heal it.

And here love fought, fought so hard and relentlessly that they even were happy from time to time; but hurt overpowered it, and killed the victim, and then love turned into grief, guilt and more pain, and killed the abuser too.

I just hope that there's enough love in me to keep fighting against pain, because this is all I have

[starfinss]

Have you heard what happened with Tighnari EN va Elliot Gindi? I feel sad for Tighnari he was voiced by a hopefully jailed man, but most of all, the victims are the one who suffered the most, my heart is with them

Of course I’ve heard about it, I’ve pretty much been following the story since it broke. What Elliot Gindi did was horrific, and absolutely inexcusable. He deserves prison time for what he did. He didn’t apologize because he actually felt bad, he apologized because he got caught. My heart goes out to the victims, and I hope that Tighnari is recast speedily. Gindi was already fired by Hoyo, iirc, and I believe they’re looking for a new voice actor, but I could be misremembering that last part. I know for certain he was fired, though. I don’t really often talk about things like this on my blog, but I’m so disgusted by what Gindi did that I thought saying my piece would be important since I was asked for my opinion. My heart is with the victims, and I hope they can begin the healing process now that all of this is out in the open.

[aspenmissing]

𝙷𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝙼𝚊𝚗 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

Sam is on a payphone, and Y/N and Dean are sitting at a table outside the café.

"Alright, thank you for your time." He hangs up and walks back to the table where Dean is working on the laptop, and Y/N is drinking her milkshake, looking at the screen.

"Your, uh, half-caf, a double vanilla latte is gettin' cold over here, Francis."

"Bite me." Sam sits down.

"So, anything?" Y/N asks. Sam shakes his head.

"I had 'em check the FBI's Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations."

"Sam, I'm tellin' ya, I don't think Dad wants to be found." Sam looks disappointed. "Check this out." Dean shows Sam and Y/N an article on the computer. "It's a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here.

"The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road," Sam reads.

"Keep reading."

"Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible."

"Could there be something interesting?" Y/N says.

"Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked-out witness who didn't see anything? That doesn't mean it's the invisible man," Sam says.

"But what if it is? Dad would check it out."

==

Y/N pulls up at the fraternity, and the three get out of the car. The frat brothers are confused.

"Once more time, why are we here?" Sam asks.

"The victim lived here," Dean replies. They walk up to some guys fixing a car.

"Nice wheels." They look at Y/N strangely. She then points to Sam and Dean with her thumbs. "These two are your fraternity brothers. From Ohio. We're new in town. Transfers. Looking for a place to stay." She grins. "Sadly, not me, though, boys, already set up shop somewhere else."

==

Sam, Y/N, and Dean walk up to a doorway to see a shirtless frat boy in yellow shorts and painting his face and body purple. The three knocked on the door.

"Who are you?"

"We're your new roommates." Dean smiles and walks over to the boy. He points back to Y/N. "Not her, of course; sorry to break your hopes there." The boy holds the brush and paint can out to Y/N.

"Do me a favour? Get my back. Big game today." He looks at me sweetly. She points to Sam.

"He's the artist. Things he can do with a brush." Sam, mortified, takes the brush and cans. Dean sits on a chair and picks up a magazine. Y/N looks around.

"So... Murphy. Is it true?" Dean says.

"What?"

"We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week."

"Yeah," Murph replies sadly.

"What happened?" Y/N asks.

"They're saying something psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter is passing through. Rich was a good guy."

"Rich was with somebody?"

"Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen."

"Who's Lori Sorensen?" Y/N asks.

"You missed a spot. Just down there, on the back." Dean says, looking at Sam, who looks annoyed while Dean grins. Y/N smacks Dean's arm.

"Lori's a freshman. She's a local. Super-hot. And get this: she's a reverend's daughter."

"You wouldn't happen to know which church, would you?"

==

"Our hearts go out to the family of a young man who perished. And my personal prayers of thanks go out as well, because I believe he died trying to protect my daughter. And now, as time heals all our wounds, we should reflect on what this tragedy means. To us, as a church." Sam, Dean, and Y/N enter, and the door slams. The congregation goes silent and turns to look at them. "As a community, and as a family, The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings." The three sit down. A young female stares at Sam, and he smiles weakly at her. "So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children." Everybody bows their heads in prayer, except Dean. Sam elbows him, and Dean, noticing everyone else, does the same.

==

Sam, Y/N, and Dean walk up to the young girl, who had stared at Sam.

"Are you Lori?" Sam asks.

"Yeah," she replies.

"My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean. And my sister, Y/N." The twins wave.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"We just transferred here to the university."

"I saw you inside," she says.

"We don't want to bother you. We just heard about what happened, and"

"We wanted to say how sorry we were," Dean says, Y/N nodding.

"I kind of know what you're going through. I-I saw someone get hurt once. It's something you don't forget." Lori nods slightly as the reverend walks up to them.

"Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and Y/N. They're new students." Dean shakes the reverend's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon."

"Thank you very much. It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message." Y/N chuckles.

"Listen, uh, we're new to town, actually." She and Dean led the reverend away from Sam and Lori. "And, uh, we were looking for a, um, a church group."

==

They walk into the library, then walk down one of the sections and stop.

"Do you believe her?" Dean asks.

"I do," Y/N replies.

"Yeah, I think she's hot, too."

"No, man, there's something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. I found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car."

"Wait, is the body suspended? That sounds like the"

"Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend."

"That's one of the most famous urban legends ever. You don't think that we're dealing with the Hook Man," Y/N says.

"Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began."

"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches, the tyre punctures, and the invisible killer?"

"Well, maybe the Hook Man isn't a man at all. What if it's some kind of spirit?"

==

The three are sitting at a table in the library. The librarian places a few big boxes in front of them.

"Thanks," Dean says.

"Ok," the librarian says and walks away.

"So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?" Y/N says, sighing.

"Welcome to higher education." They begin to read.

==

Hours later, Dean and Sam are still reading. Y/N, on the other hand, had crossed her arms on the table and fallen asleep.

"Hey, check this out," Sam says. Dean shakes Y/N's arm, causing her to wake up. The two then go over to Sam, who's reading a book. "A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. It looks like he was so angry over the red-light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, some of the deceased were found in their beds, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh." Dean looks at another page.

"Get this, the murder weapon? It looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook?" Y/N points to another page.

"Look where all this happened." Dean reads it.

"9 Mile Road."

"Same place where the frat boy was killed." Sam adds.

"Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let's check it out," Dean says as Sam gathers all the research and they leave."

==

Dean, Sam, and Y/N drive up 9 Mile Road and get out of the car. Dean opens the trunk and hands Y/N a rifle.

"Here you go."

"If it is a spirit, buckshot won't do much good."

"Yeah, rock salt," Y/N says.

"Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent." Dean takes out a coil of rope and shuts the trunk.

"Yeah. It won't kill them. But it'll slow 'em down," Y/N says as they start walking towards the trees.

"That's pretty good. You, Dean, and Dad, think of this."

"No, just Dean and Dad," Y/N says.

"I told you. You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius," Dean replies. They hear noises among the trees and stop walking. Y/N raises her gun and looks around.

"Over there. Over there," Dean whispers. Y/N aims the gun and cocks it. A figure comes out from behind the trees. It's a sheriff.

"Put the gun down now! Now! Put your hands behind your head."

"W-w-wait, okay, okay!"

"Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!" They get down. "Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!"

"She had the gun!" They lay down.

"Gee! Thanks a lot, Dean!"

==

Sam, Dean, and Y/N are leaving the sheriff's department.

"Save your asses! I talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I am Matlock," Dean says.

"But how?" Sam asks.

"I told him you were a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing you."

"What about the shotgun?" Y/N asks.

"I said that you were hunting ghosts, and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank," Dean replies.

"And he believed you?" Sam asks.

"Well, you look like a dumbass pledge, and Y/N looks like someone who would do it anyway." Seconds later, several sheriffs run out of the building and speed away in police cars. Sam, Dean, and Y/N exchange a look.

==

Lori is wrapped in a blanket and sitting in the back of a parked ambulance. Sam, Dean, and Y/N drive by and look at her.

"I just want to take her home."

"I understand that, Reverend. But Lori's now connected to two murders, and I can't ignore that."

"Listen to me. Arrest her now, or let me take her home." The sheriff thinks about it for a second.

"Make sure she's available for questioning."

"Thank you." He walks over to Lori. "Sweetheart, are you ready to go home?" She stands up and starts walking with him. Dean, Sam, and Y/N park their car on another street. They get out and walk around to the back of Lori's sorority.

"Why would the Hook Man come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road," Sam says.

"Maybe he's not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it's about something else," Y/N says. Two sorority girls come out the side entrance of the building, but they don't see Sam, Y/N, and Dean. Sam and Dean lean against the side of the house next to some bushes to hide. "Dude, sorority girls! Think we'll see a naked pillow fight?" Dean and Y/N turn around and see Sam trying to climb onto the balcony of the house. Dean helps him up and then climbs up himself, followed by Y/N. Once they are up there, they sneak into Lori's window. Dean seems to fall on top of Sam by getting in the window.

"Oh, sorry!" Then Y/N comes in, falling on top of the two.

"Ow~"

"Be quiet," Sam says.

"You be quiet!"

"You be quiet!" Y/N puts her hands over their mouths.

"Shut up. Someone's coming." She shoves the two into Lori's walk-in closet just as a sheriff enters. Minutes later, Sam opens the door slightly and sees another sheriff leaving the bedroom. Sam waits until the sheriff goes downstairs and then opens the closet door. Once in Lori's bedroom, Sam, Dean, and Y/N see the writing on the wall.

"Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light? That's right out of the legend," Sam says.

"Yeah, that's classic Hook Man all right," Y/N says, scrunching her nose. "It's a spirit."

"Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before," Dean says, moving over to the window. "Hey, come here." Dean walks over to Sam and Y/N. Sam points to the cross symbol beneath the writing. "Does that look familiar to you?"

==

Dean, Sam, and Y/N are sitting by the car looking at a picture of the cross symbol that they found during their research.

"It's the same symbol. It seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns," Sam says.

"All right, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down."

"After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave," Sam reads. The three look annoyed.

"Super," Dean says.

"Ok. So, we know it's Jacob Karns. But we still don't know where he'll manifest next. Or why."

"I'll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this." They get in the car.

==

A while later, the three are at a college party. Dean and Y/N walk up to Sam.

"Hey."

"Man, you've been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome!" Dean says this as he winks and smiles at a passing girl.

"If I knew it was this cool, then I would have left for college a long time ago," Y/N says while looking at a boy up and down, smiling.

"This wasn't my experience."

"Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A's." Sam nods.

"What a geek! Alright, you do your homework." Y/N asks.

"Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something," Sam says, unravelling a piece of paper.

"1932. A clergyman was arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage," Dean reads.

"There's a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then he found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out—get this—with a sharp instrument."

"What's the connection to Lori?" Y/N asks.

"A man of religion? Who openly preaches against immorality?" Dean and Y/N suddenly understand. "Except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he's just trying to save his only daughter."

"Reverend Sorensen. You think he's summoning the spirit?"

"Maybe. Or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?" Sam says.

"Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend's repressed emotions and feeds off them, yeah, okay."

"Without the reverent ever even knowing it."

"Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight." Sam nods.

"What about you two?" Sam asks. Dean looks at an attractive blond smiling at him by the pool table.

"We're going to go see if we can find that unmarked grave," Y/N replies. Dean looks at the blond again, shakes his head in disappointment, and walks away, followed by Y/N.

[mindlabyrinthx]

July 29th, 2024

It has been 3 years and 2 months since I last wrote on this blog. I have gone back and read all of my posts and endured the painful memory of what I was going through. So much has happened since then... so much healing that I have fought within an inch of my life for. I am now a happily divorced 29-year-old woman and a mother of two.

Yes, two.

I gave birth to a second baby girl in April of this year and have been completely engulfed in love with her father for nearly two years.

As I said... so much healing.

The daughter I share with my ex-husband is almost 5 years old now, and we share our time with her equally. As much damage as he inflicted onto my heart, he is still her father. He shows up for her for the most part and provides her with the basic necessities of life. Psychologically speaking might be a different story, but I am doing my best to provide extra to make up for the things he lacks emotionally. Otherwise, she is happy at whomever home she goes and what more could one truly ask for?

Some women search and search for excuses to keep their children away from their father or to milk more child support because of the pain they've endured in the relationship. But at what point do we stop making people pay for the things they've done to us? At what point do we stop viewing ourselves as victims of the torture and just let it be? The scars on my heart will remain there forever, but God sees his growth even if I don't, or can't... or won't.

He is in a new relationship as well for almost the same time as I have been. My daughter has just started talking about her last week, so I am really happy to hear that. It seemed to take an awful long time for them to form a bond but the more humans there are in the world that fall in love with my daughter, the better off she will be. Our co-parenting is strictly confined to conversations about my daughter and nothing else. It has been good for a long while. I hope he has healed from my mistakes too.

So much of my growth is owed to my boyfriend, the love of my life. I met him after the storm, when the clouds were still grey but all wringed out of rain. I met him when I was solely focused on the health and well-being of my daughter, and he was focused on the health and well-being of me. He took that angry, bitter, hyper-masculine shell of a woman and loved her to life. Loved her to softness and femininity. Loved her to a true woman. He loved my daughter too, so much, that she started calling him daddy about a year ago.

My youngest baby girl is a spitting image of both of us. She is all of our love manifested into a tiny human.

Looking back on the things I wrote years ago; I feel so sorry for the woman I used to be. She was in so much pain and agony all the time. So much uncertainty of the future, so much panic and so much weight loss. I do not miss her at all, but I feel the need to return to her sometimes and carry her through it all. I revisit the pain and it doesn't sting so much. I revisit the scar tissue and it's not so thick anymore.

My mind is still an intricate labyrinth of love and darkness, make no mistake. I am still unraveling every day like a loose string on a knit sweater, that's also being fed into a new sewing machine every day. I am happy and I am sad all at the same time. I am suffocating and breathing simultaneously. I am deep in the labyrinth of my mind, and I am running.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

@red-riding-wood I am so sorry that this has happened to you, honey, and I am sending as many well wishes your way as I can, as well as to all of the other victims.

My story regarding this man is not nearly as bad as most of you; thankfully the wonderful @shelbydelrey clued me in very quickly that this person gave her Bad Vibes and that I should be wary of him. I believed her and after I scrolled through his blog on my own agreed with her that his attitudes towards women were concerning, and the second he started commenting on my fics and DM'd me, I blocked him.

I was then informed by another friend a few months later that he had been bragging to her about making a different account after I blocked him in order to continue to stalk my blog, which made me feel not only violated, but livid that he would trample over my boundaries like that and then openly brag about it. Another friend (who will remain anonymous unless she wants me to name her) recently informed me that she believes she found this alternative blog (though who knows how many this fucker has at this point) which I have also blocked.

This is nothing in comparison to what he has done to many of you, and my heart goes out to each and every one of you that he has hurt, and I hope that you are able to heal from this. Fandom is supposed to be a happy place, and I hope in time it can be that way again for all of you.

I also urge any of you, if you are able and comfortable, to please, please block and report this person to Tumblr. There's no guarantee that anything will happen, but at least we can try. And please, be careful regarding any new blogs, since as I mentioned above, who knows how many alternative blogs this person could be using to prey on people.

And finally, a massive thank you to @shelbydelrey, who first warned me about this person, and to the friend who found his alternative account we believe he was stalking me on. You girls are my freaking heroes and I love you both so, so much.

PSA - Community Predator

Over a series of months, myself and other Tumblr users -- fic writers, gif makers, fans of created content -- have been victimised by @mrkdvidal1989, who has extensively lied about who he is, preyed on multiple women and denied involvement -- therefore ruining friendships, reputations and feelings, and promised me life-saving medical treatment that he never followed through on.

More information including mine and their stories under the cut.

The reason I am going public with this is twofold:

A) To protect others from being hurt. He is known to reach out to many tumblr users, especially young women in the Cillian Murphy fandom -- but he may have a wider reach beyond this circle. B) Since his "disappearance" three weeks ago and the unravelling of his lies, this man has ruined my life and the only hope I had of obtaining treatment for a condition that has been plaguing me for four years.

Killian Vidal is the name he has chosen to give us, and has claimed to be both a officer commander and general in the mobility troop in the SAS (the general rank does not even exist), has beaten cancer a while ago (but said to another mutual that his "time was running out" and he is currently struggling with it), and a plethora of other life experiences and general knowledge about him that varies in consistency when talking to different people and is questionable in its validity. He has also shared pictures of "himself" that when reverse image searched, belong to different people.

I got to know Kill when he reblogged one of my fanfics (as the story seems to start with a lot of his victims) and he reached out via DMs. We quickly became close friends who called nearly every day on Discord and when I told him about my health issues, he immediately offered to pay for my medical treatment wherever I could find willing doctors.

I was hesitant to believe this at first since all of this seemed too good to be true (and was). He claimed to be very wealthy, enough to afford private jets like it was nothing and to rent me an apartment in the UK in the same building as him. Over time, I grew to trust him because he felt like such a genuine person and friend, which was made all the more believable by the fact that he has such a huge following on Tumblr and was, at the time, part of a vast social network of fans and friends (one of which he even claimed to know IRL -- who will remain anonymous unless they decide to speak out). I decided to ignore the little red flags because I was so desperate to receive this treatment that for me would be life-saving.

For four years, I have been plagued by an array of (mostly) undiagnosed digestive issues that have made my life almost unbearable and have on numerous occasions nearly killed me due to malnutrition. I've spent months in hospital, endured years of malpractice and misdiagnoses, undergone heart surgery, and have tried absolutely everything I can to get better. In the winter of 2023, I was told by my doctor that I was refused in the TPN program (a treatment that may have slowed or stopped my weight loss) and that with or without it, I was looking at mortality. Refusing to stop fighting but having exhausted the public health care system in Canada, I went into 2024 not really having much hope of anything anymore.

So, when Kill came along, that changed. He promised -- and I mean, from the bottom of his heart, promised -- that he would help me get treatment, that he would get me out of my abusive home and fly me to the UK, that he would be there for me as my friend, etc. I was beyond grateful, and as my trust with him built, so did my hope.

The travel plans kept getting put off; originally, he would fly me out as soon as the apartment became available, which was the 11th of Feb, 2024. He kept finding excuses to not book the jet. Finally, it seemed as if around the 15th/16th I would be flying. My health had been declining rapidly and the situation was becoming all the more urgent, and he said he was in contact with a pilot and would send the ticket soon and call me.

That was the last I heard from him. The 16th.

Initially thinking he had ended his life (he had discussed thoughts of suicide with me prior to this), I was beside myself with worry not only thinking one of my closest friends was gone but also that my chance at life was. I reached out to his other friends, and I made several calls to the UK authorities and emergency services and ended up requesting a welfare check be made to see if he was even alive.

They reported that no one under the name Killian Vidal was in the records of the building name he gave me -- the same building that I was meant to live in within that week.

After reaching out to my now beloved friend @kittenonpluto (A.K.A., Cas) on Tumblr, I learned that Kill was in fact alive, and had told her that he was in hospital for digestive issues in Indianopolis, United States (though again, no record of his name in their medical system). He still wouldn't talk to me, but told her to tell me that he would reach out when he was out of hospital.

Cas and I compared information he'd told us (her story will be attached to this post) and looked into the mystery more. He constantly dodged confrontation and questions about the fake photos and information he'd sent her, and seemed to use his completely fabricated hospitalisation as an excuse to not fulfil his promises to myself and her, as well as a means to garner sympathy.

It was quite obvious that he didn't know how the American medical system worked, and he even incorporated elements of my actual story and used them in his. When asked about his treatments, he responded with medically false information. He reported digestive issues, reflux, and having both an NG tube and TPN -- both of which I have experience with -- and let me say, I am beyond disgusted and infuriated that my real life trauma was used as a ploy in all this.

How do we know for a fact this is false? I checked the police case for his welfare check again, and they said that they confirmed him being in the UK at the same time he had told Cas he was in hospital in the States.

After a final confrontation from both Cas and myself (and a desperate final plea for the medical aid he promised me), he was never heard from again from either of us or our friend circles.

I'm now having to pick up the pieces he's left me in and to be honest, I have little to no idea of what the hell to do or how to save myself. The fact that he strung me along for a month and built up my hope that I was going to live only to abandon me without even a word is deplorable to me.

And mine isn't the only story. I've heard from four women on Tumblr (who, again, will remain anonymous unless they choose to speak out) who he has been romantic or sexually involved with (and lied about his involvement, made them out to seem insane or toxic, created rifts in our friendships, toyed with their emotions, and made false promises to of relationships, marriage, and finances).

And that's not including the ex-wife who came back to Tumblr to claim that her and Kill had never met nor married. She was promptly silenced by a "lawyer threat" that we have strong reason to believe was a bluff.

At the end of the day, there are so many lies, half-truths, inconsistencies, etc. this man has wrapped himself in and we don't know for the life of us what his motives are, but from the information that we do know is false, he isn't genuine. He toys with people. He hurts them. Myself and the others that have been affected by this want that to stop.

And at any point, he has the ability to make a new account, and take on a new persona, pretend to be someone else. Tumblr is a wonderful place and I have met so many cool people on here, but please be careful about who you interact with and what you share, because aside from making this post, it is beyond my power to stop him from doing what he does. But after what he did to me, I could not remain silent.

Other Stories

If you have an experience or story with Killian that you would like heard, please reblog it on this thread or make a post. With your consent, I can include a link to it below.

Final Note

Lastly, if you have read this far, thank you.

If you want to reach out to me about this issue -- whether it's to anonymously share your experience, ask questions, ask for evidence (of which I can back up these statements with), or anything at all --, please do not hesitate to do so. <3

For those who may be worried about the potential legality of this post, everything that I have stated as fact is fact and it is not my intention to slander or spread false information.