#it’s a shame they deleted their stuff and it was years ago so I don’t know which post it was under

[kiingbiing]

It lives in my head rent free that someone in my insta comments had the utmost confidence to say that British people CANNOT be POC…

Just simply not possible

[mizz-sea-nymph]

Attention: if you are not @hebemina then I advise you don’t respond to this cause just by that you’ll embarrass yourself by proving my points and being literal proof.

Id like to say that me and her where friends but during the time we where friends she had her weird moments and her alright moments especially when we first met, it wasn’t her acting like the adult it was me, funnily enough I started referring to her as a sister cause that’s what I do when I worry about how a person views me, it was clear I was uncomfortable and got my friend who remember the first encounter and how I reacted to this ask a while back, hell I even asked them how to respond to the ask cause I was in such a panic. When looking at it, I’m genuinely disgusted how she didn’t even apologise or better herself, everyone keeps saying she’s better but she isn’t and it’s really sad how harmful it is especially to the people she spoke with that she made uncomfortable.

(She was drunk and I was mortified and didn’t even know how to respond so I danced around it I’ll admit that but thing is she didn’t even apologize)

Now it’s hard to show this from the past cause of personal stuff but since some people already know about it I guess I just gotta grow some balls. I’m showing this from the past cause I came across it a while ago and got disgusted, I was a child and I was mortified so much so I asked my friends how to respond to it and was so ashamed and embarssed I thought I deleted this but luckily didn’t cause one can realize how horrid this is. What’s funny is a DECENT AND SENSITIVE AND CARING PERSON would apologise! You never apologized Mina! and this wasn’t the first time you got weird with me! Seriously! Atleast have the decency to say sorry! But not just this you’ve many times turned our platonic and happy convos to something straight up weird, I ended up deleting many on my blog cause of unlike you I feel embarrassed!

I went through a hard year and having someone like this disturb me online was the icing on the cake but of course I was too embarssed and scared to say anything about it cause I feared I’d be yelled at, by your followers, yeah allot of you made me not even want to stand up for myself and say “what you are doing is rubbing me the wrong way” despite her knowing my age, and despite me reminding her constantly at that time I kept saying “haha I’m in high school”. So to the people reading this, dont make her seem like she Dosent know the age of her followers cause she lurks, she lurks around even accounts she has now ignored just cause said acount has a different opinion then her.

Thought I didn’t notice? I easily noticed how you and @hanaiikiki or whatever TF her name is now stopped talking to me as a whole and started ignoring my existence, even when I was geniunely trying to be nice etc, you stopped when I voiced my opinion about Loki, Hana going as far as telling people she Dosent know me (girl I got ears everywhere, when I heard this I was shocked cause I thought we where good!) despite me clearly stating as a continuation I don’t care what anyone likes and Dosent like it’s the VICTIM BLAMING, that’s wrong and also rly weird. So I don’t understand why both of you would let a fictional character come between a nice mutual friendship, especially you Hana I geniunely liked talking to you I liked talking mythology and liked sending you asks, you where really nice and kind with me and didn’t weird me out like Mina but it’s clear you have no self identity what so ever. But of course, no worries! I have no need for you! I know who my people are and aren’t and you aren’t one of em that’s for sure. As for Mina, yeesh girl yeesh that’s all I got when it comes to this, cause again no self respect self shame or friendship is magic in this case, but then again you’re no use of me either so I’ll say I’m glad you don’t speak to me anymore cause you creeped me out many times :)

just cause someone hides behind a cute kind persona dose not always mean that’s what they are on the inside dishonesty is sm. I’m honestly so dissapointed so many here defend her and say she’s changed instead of her saying she has, let her speak for herself if she’s so much so as the adult she claims to be.Let her speak cause I’m amazed how everyone walks eggshells around her cause she’s “sensitive” that is a insult to sensitive people as a whole.

I’m not going to mention who cause I want them to rest easy cause they are dear to me and what they experienced today breaks my heart they’re so sweet and didn’t deserve any of this, but when Mina apologized to them, Mina used the excuse of “I didn’t know you where a minor” despite her MENTONING THEIR AGE! Everyone knows people that know what they’re doing use that excuse, they lie, they will always go with this excuse, don’t get offended and stop reading now Mina I ain’t calling you a pedo, I’m calling you a dumbass, a real big dumbass as a whole for that shit apology and excuse. A victim of harassment Dosent deserve this, and a “sorry” dose not make up for the trauma the victim suffered let alone this type of “sorry”.

(I’m covering the name cause I rly feel bad for who experienced this and believe the poor thing has experienced enough today of all days like good god I don’t even want anyone to comfort me I’m fine! Just show some support and love to this victim cause good god)

there’s a line with senstivity and irresponsibility, and if it weren’t for me sending a respectful i REPEAT a respectful I’m a respectful person that’s how my mama raised me, anon ask saying you shouldn’t interact with minors much cause they’re easy to influenced and they see what you post easily etc etc, the useless “minors do not interact” wouldn’t be there. Oh and it’s hilarious how you have it there and still interact with said minors? Sweetie? It’s not there for show! Lotus? Heldril? Goddamm new comers? Children copy and children get affected! And you’ve clearly traumatized and affected a bunch! If you’re a so called elderly care giver you should know how to care for others that aren’t just you, make it make sense!

Oh and let’s not leave this out the cake. It’s funny how you talk about masturbating in public and how you vent in public, letting literally people who are younger than you be your therapist, or witness you sexting IN PUBLIC keep it in the dms woman! have so shame! This isn’t red lobster you embarrassing yourself! I ain’t slut shaming you cause I’m the queen of sluts, I’ve been called a slut for years and I didn’t even know about it so don’t think I’m slut shaming you. But really How wonderful really! A nurse! Who gose through the struggle of whipping elderly asses for a living! Doesn’t go to a therapist and relays on people decades younger than her! Get a damm therapist! Be ashamed! Seriously take some responsibility!

Not to mention I still remember how people expressed geniune concern for you and you milked it and said “see you on the other side” who says that! I was one of those people! I actually worried? But I woke up and realized what the fuck is this? Are you serious??? Some of these people who are worried for you are younger by years?? Some even minors?! Get a grip??! Where’s the responsibility?? It’d be better to write about your horny thoughts on a blog strictly for NSFW! I deadass told you to in the anon ask cause you need to be responsible! And dont you dare post a “im sorry 🥺” post! I know your type and I know them well! Just by that post where you explained yourself about the whole issue of you saying you want to make out with a minor, says allot. You didn’t address the issue! You just said it’s okay to hate you! You didn’t even defend yourself! Well for one Mina, I don’t hate you, I just hate the way you act,behave and your personality as a whole because that “sorry” will never cut the anxiety and horrible memory as a whole, be ashamed a bit, it’s not funny to make everything sexual and as a adult you should understand that.

What you did to those mods and roleplayers? I’m still speechless and have Vietnam flashbacks when it comes to the public sexting good god, atleast as if it’s okay to do NSFW and sent a literal pic of you bust? I know dirty I’m the QUEEN of dirty that hand on your top pulling the shirt a little lower shocked me so much my eyebrows left to Saturn and had a baby with the planet! I’ve got eyebrow planet grandkids now that’s how shocked I was. Not to mention the mod was 19 you are literally a decade older girl- tf is this lore Olympus? I know you like lore Olympus but girl lore Olympus is lowkey shit no offence. Honestly no wonder the mod stopped roleplaying and deleted the acounts cause good god girl- atleast have the decency to ask?

It’s really funny! Just a big joke really!

I for one was a friend with yo!u until I realized your true colors, I’m disappointed and consider this pathetic. I used to think you were nice and kind but I was met with dissapointment you genuinely disappointed me, hurt me and not only me but many others, don’t beat yourself about it just accept the fact that you did and just remove yourself from said minors and ACTUALLY BE RESPONSIBLE, before you hurt even more people.

As for the ones reading this,

You all know me and I’m pretty sure this is shocking seeing me a person here on tumblr call out the so called sweet Mina but honestly, people! nobodies perfect! Are you kidding me?? Get it through your skulls! She isn’t perfect and I’m not saying to hate her I’m saying to stop treating her like a child! when actual children here are being harmed! I’ve seen minors on here who deadass have been affected by her! And nobody I say nobody! don’t you dare say she didn’t know what she was doing that’s a insult to the victims and disgusting in general.

Also it’s not the ror fandom that’s changing, this has nothing to do with ror, to anyone reading this know this, it’s the Mina fandom that’s changing, not the ror fandom I’ve been in the ror community long before her and if sm was changing I’d know.

I’m deadass saying this despite me being a decade younger then Mina, I’m not saying this as a friend, not as a friend cause I don’t see you as that anymore and will never will ever again, im saying this as a person who’s going to be honest with you,

Keep it real

Enough of this self cantered,narcissistic ,immature, shameful,irresponsible and selfish behavior, you should be able to expect opinions like this, stop hiding behind your followers and say what you have in mind Mina and DONT dance around the issue, I read your “apology” post when the Heldirl issue raised to light, you didn’t even talk about the issue in hand, you just said it’s okay to hate you! Three paragraphs!! don’t dance around this, and you know what, Don’t even respond if you plan on doing that, cause that just proves the point.

Just know I don’t respect you not just cause of you being weird in the past with me but also with others specifically others I care about, so don’t come crying to me cause I geniunely don’t care I know these types of etiquettes, a sorry will never cut shit like I said so call me a cruel bitch idc ig it’s fair 🤷🏻‍♀️ just know I DONT respect you one bit,good day.

Tagging

@amphitriteswife @tinyy-tea-cup @mono-supports-palestine @praisethesuuun @riseofamoonycake @brokensenseofhumor @monstertreden @heldril @lotusmybeloved @nicasdreamer @ idk

idk who tf else to tag aaaa 💀 but yeah that’s my take on all of this respect me hate me I don’t care I rather be hated for who tf I am then who I pretend to be and who I am is a person to keeps it real 🤨

[letomills]

Elaboration on my past shameful cc hair practices (I have learned the error of my ways)

Context over there. This here post is an answer to an inquiry by @sillysoraya.

This whole time since I started trying my hand at Sims 2 cc hair recoloring/retexturing, this had been my process: find recolors by a creator whose textures I want to use as a base, export said textures from their recolors via simPE, modify and/or recolor them in GIMP, then make fresh recolor files in bodyshop, reimport them immediately, close bodyshop, promptly delete everything that was generated in the Projects folder, take the new recolor files out of the SavedSims folder, and put my edited textures onto my them by building DTX in simPE.

When I say “textures”, I mean textures that look like this, you know, the ones you see in simPE with the transparent background:

[↑ that's evannamari's DBrown retexture of Newsea Miles Away]

That's how I do it for clothing, so why wouldn't it work for hair, I told myself naively in my immense hubris.

Well turns out there's a reason why the tutorials (such as this one by DeeDee) tell you to apply the textures not in simPE but in bodyshop. You’re supposed to put your textures in the Project folder - this kind of texture, that covers more than just the alpha:

[↑ the texture on the left / the alpha on the right ↑]

And only then you reimport and let bodyshop do its thing. The alpha will do its job carving out the texture properly (or whatever kind of sorcery happens in there).

Because if you give your recolors the already alpha’d out textures with the transparent background, what I believe happens is as the transparent background gets floodfilled with black during bodyshop’s file creation process, all the parts of the texture that had some wispy half-transparent hairs on them now have a layer of black underneath. Or at least what I know for sure is that those wipsy sections don't turn out looking nice but weirdly wire-y, especially on light recolors. Many hairs don’t have wispy strands and therefore are very forgiving (which is why I didn’t see a problem when I did the Rosesims hairs for example) but others have plenty of them, like the Newsea hairs. On those, it makes a clear difference. In game, it shows most as you zoom out, for instance in CAS from a face close-up view to a full-body view. It’s the same principle as this seam problem I had a while ago (and several times since), with clothing texture that was floodfilled with white too close to the borders of the texture mapping. When you zoomed out, the white would start showing.

Anyway, this is definitely stuff that creators in the community have known for 20 years and it’s 100% my fault for not following a hair tutorial and instead relying on prior knowledge of clothing-making that turned out not to be applicable 1:1.

I’m sure I still have a lot to learn on hair retexturing even after figuring this out. I was working on Newsea Yesenia when I had the realization that I was doing things wrong, but before I upload anything else, I’m gonna go back and look at all of the hairs I’ve done so far, fix them up when needed, learn more. Fortunately I think all of the Fakeblood gender conversions are fine but I’ll check and get back to you on that, there’s something I need to investigate. Edit: yes, all the gender conversions and copy-pasta of other people's unedited textures are completely fine, thank god.

Seems like as long as the texture didn't go through GIMP's import-export, it's fine, even if I didn't apply it via the Projects folder.

[marcusbrutus]

I feel like I have a tumblr anon in my brain…. Like a tiny cop. But it’s an chronically online anonymous weirdo. And every thought I have, I get “anons” telling me how it’s problematic and I should kill my self LOL The other morning I saw an RFK sign and I thought doesn’t he have brain worms, someone running for president shouldn't have brain worms. maybe apply for literally any other job. and the anon was like ummm ableist much? Like WHAT. I turned off anon on tumblr a while ago, so even if I post something “risky”, someone will have to tell me what they think to my face. They can’t hide. Even posts I think are innocuous can be wildly misinterpreted, and someone will probably call me problematic. But even if no one says anything, I still hear it. In my brain. Sometimes I delete things because the thought is so strong. I’m probably not gonna make it to any heaven or enlightenment because I can’t forgive yourfaveisproblematic. In my mind, Tumblr was great before then, or at least it felt that way, and that blog sewed the seeds for cancel culture in the future. That stuff sticks to my brain, even if I don’t want it too. When you put sins like "said disabled people shouldn't be alive" on the same level as "has a tattoo in a language they don't natively speak," it is very confusing to a people-pleasing undiagnosed autistic 14 year old. I felt/feel like I can’t like anyone or anything because it’s ~problematic~ I worry it will never go away, because it affected me in my developing years, 14-19 I want to get better, but it’s hard. I wish I could run from the internet, but I can’t. It’s a part of life now. It’s how we stay connected. But it’s also like…. Idk. The internet used to be my safe space, right? Deviantart. Early tumblr. Seeing weird people like me made me feel less alone. I was a weeb surrounded by “preps” for lack of a better word, not that I didn’t have friends but NONE of them were into what I was into, you know? And no one became as obsessive about things like books and anime like I did, except online. But now it’s like, idk, corruption of the garden of Eden. But instead of me eating the fruit, the garden/internet ate the fruit. The world is too different now… I can’t keep up. And it’s not just because I’m getting older. Things happen faster now. Trends will last half a year when in the past they would have lasted a decade. I hate knowing everything all of the time. I hate that my garden is now a cesspool.

I’m just angry that people on tumblr and lefty spaces online are so blind to their own propaganda, and calling it out is “hate.” Like idk, I guess I expected better from people who are supposed to be ~intellectuals~. Well, if YouTube video essays have taught me anything, style over substance goes a LONG way. And they’re like “oh we’re so compassionate and we want a better future” but they tell everyone to kill themselves and laugh when red states get devastated by natural disasters it's not just that but it's like…. if you're not constantly aware of everything, you're ~part ofthe problem~ #wakeupamerica. silence is violence, blah blah blah. it's just hard because i grew up with a strict dad so learned to be a people pleaser. i'm extremely sensitive to guilt and shame. and all most of the internet has done since 2014 is shame everyone for everything. you're either with Us (good, pure, morally righteous) or you're with Them (problematic, evil). you don't want to be gasp problematic, do you? you don't want to have a callout post made about you and lose all your friends, right? well, keep you nose clean and reblog all the right posts so we know which side you're on an maybe, maybe we'll leave you alone. i have the stress of someone in debt to a mob boss. nah it's more like… i have the stress of everyone in the scarlet letter and im hoping everyone will keep their eyes on the Villain of the Week and leave me alone there's a decent video called "how to radicalize a normie." i say decent because it treats radicalization like a right-wing only issue and the "answer" to right wing radicalization is, of course left wing radicalization. "Even though they're on the bad, evil side, there's still hope because we can get them to our good, morally righteous side!" That kinda bs, and I say bs not in a left vs right way. According to my dad I'm a full blown communist! I'm saying it in the sense that the answer to radicalization isn't "just radicalize them to the other side." That's not at all helpful. You might as well tell an alcoholic who likes jameson to just switch to jack daniels. It's all poison, it's all harmful. ANYWAY, he talks about how most people don't set out to be radicalized, the politics comes to them. That happened to me - but on the left. And I'm sure if I left a comment on his video saying as much, he'd say it didn't happen or say it was a good thing. On tumblr, I came for anime. And for the first year, I got anime. But then I got really intense political stuff. "silence is violence." "i see you not reblogging this." "if you're not angry, you're not paying attention." I was 14-15, sheltered as fuck, I don't know anything about the world but now tumblr is convincing me that I know more about political issues than anyone. And it changed me. And it fucked me up. and I want to get unfucked. But I don't know how. I feel like an internet alcoholic. Like, even if I do stop using it, it will still be there, haunting me, forever, you know? because all my friends use it, not just you guys but irl friends. and the internet is effecting the real world. I miss the days when there was the internet, then there was reality. but now the internet is the reality. That's why I also fell so hard for the [REDACTED] stuff. Tumblr made me think everyone was [REDACTED] because like 99% of tumblr is [REDACTED], and I was worried about it because god help you if you question anything or show the slightest bit of concern. God help you if you're not full steam ahead on everything. I want to escape the matrix. I hate the hypocrisy…. And I hate even more that I’m also a hypocrite. I fall for group think and propaganda but act like I’m above it all. I hate social media but use it every day. YouTube too. I guess that’s why I get so mad when I see them act like that. It reminds me of me. People think the consequences of social media on a teenage girl are like "omg I was feeling good about myself….. but then I saw a model on Instagram… alas. I will never be her. I weep."

But it's more like: Oh my gosh, I just saw a post asking for mutual aid (aka MONEY, BABY) and I scrolled past. What if they died because they couldn’t afford food because I didn’t reblog their post? But what if I DID reblog their post, but it was a scam, and I led my followers to give money to someone who didn’t need it instead of someone who did?

I was hoping to share more examples, but I'm worried someone will misinterpret, and even though anon is off, the anon in my brain is on. always. on. i keep going back to the internet because i keep expecting it to get good again… like how it was. for some reason, i can't accept that it will no longer be my safe space. i wish i had a massive angel to keep me out, or something. like the actual garden of eden. I have to accept that it will never get better. I have not only an addiction to the internet, but to the obsessive thoughts it brings. By wishing it will get better, and continuing to use it, I am chasing a dragon. That is to say, I'm hoping for the same feelings I got from initially using the internet. No one ever catches the dragon. anyway, if you read all that... thank you so much! i'm taking a break from the internet, until mid november at least. maybe by then, it will be better. or not. we'll see.

[agenderfrenchfry]

Jeez, it’s really been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve got a bit to say, but if you’d prefer to skip it, I get that. You can find my newest fic here! I’m pretty proud of it.

Tw under the cut for abusive relationships, depression, and inpatient facilities.

So, the last time I wrote for ibvs was in early June, five months ago. A lot of my break was just due to general burnout, but there was also another problem; I was genuinely dissatisfied with my work, in the sort of way I’ve never really experienced before.

This wasn’t really the typical self-hatred that most artists have. It was because most of the old fics weren’t written for me, they were written for my abuser. That’s why Felix and the rest of the Packe were always so OOC. It was less me writing for ibvs and more me doing unpaid commissions of their OCs.

I’ve removed any mention of their name from the works, but even those pieces existing on my page feels shameful. As long as they’re there, a shadow of the person who took advantage of me is too, always haunting the back of my mind whenever I think about creating. Something I’d adored so dearly has turned into a reminder of a year in my life that will affect me forever.

Sometimes I play around with the idea of deleting them, but as much as I hate those fics, the guilt of potentially making someone who likes them sad always wins over my own bad memories. I’m still not sure what the right answer is. Or if there even is a right answer. Maybe one day, I’ll know. But for now I keep myself up at night thinking.

Before anyone asks, I’m doing better now. I’ve started writing my own stuff, independent of ibvs. Maybe one day I’ll post that too. It took enough courage to walk away from someone I was convinced really loved me, many tears, and two visits to a mental hospital, but I’ve reached a point where I can truthfully say I’m okay. It’s definitely not close to an A, but hey, maybe a C+ is still alright?

Thanks for reading all that. It’s a lot, if I’m being honest, and I’m not sure how coherent it is, but I felt like if I didn’t write it down somewhere, I’d explode. Which would be painful and very messy. And, of course, my newest fic is below. I don’t know how frequent my upload schedule will be anymore, but I promise to keep trying to create. I love it far too much to quit.

[clairehadenough]

A conversation between a certain blogs and TMZ.

TB: You know Alba said antisemitism things on set of WN her co-star said so.

TMZ - that’s good. Whats the co-stars name?

TB:no idea

TMZ: right so how do you know? Is there evidence, a copy of a conversation, text, tweet, video?

TB: No it’s rumors

TMZ: so hearsay

TB: I guess but she’s a N**I and her grandparents fled to Brazil right after the war

TMZ: And the evidence? Has it been researched and confirmed?

TB: well no but she body shames people

TMZ: Good where is the evidence of that

TB: Her friend Justin’s IG and Tweets from 8yrs ago. And another trans gender friend KiKo made N**i comments from years ago. And Alba likes weird posts.

TMZ: yes disgusting comments from KiKo I agree. Did Alba know her then?

TB: No but they are friends now.

TMZ: Do you have any evidence of anything she has done directly?

TB: Yes these IG posts of cultural misappropriation and her soft porn movies. Also she made a white supremacy sign.

TMZ: You mean the international sign language signal for Ok each thousands use everyday. Which ordinarily people use as well so that can be argued that what she was using.

So we have some cultural misappropriation and soft porn films which she hasn’t done since 2019. That’s a start.

Anything else?

TB; She deleted stuff off her IG the bad things.

TMZ: Do you screenshots of them?

TB: Well no

TMZ: So how do you know they were bad or incriminating?

TB: 🤷🏻‍♀️

TMZ: Anything else

TB: Yes a fake marriage.

TMZ: But Chris confirmed he was married?

TB: But you haven’t produced the certificate and there are no wedding photos and Chris is been drugged to comply and wear a fake wedding ring. It’s all a coincidence that a wedding planner, photographer, his friends, RDJ, Renner,Scarlet,Hemsworth were in MA that weekend. Also that his family and friends and hers were in PT along with the wedding planner and photographer.

TMZ: Renner and Hemsworth told fans they were there for Chris’s wedding.

TB: They were lying. And DHS are looking into their fake marriage and her immigration status.

TMZ: Has she actually said anything.

TB: No but she a yacht girl and slept with her director, producer, anyone to get a part. And she’s into sugar daddies. Her friends followed a sugar daddy account.

TMZ: Again hearsay barring the sugar daddy account follow.

TB: Her FB is followed by dirty creepy man and she posts sexy pics on it for them to like.

TMZ: Proof it’s hers? Do her family and friends follow her.

TB: No and no. But we have sources like people who live in Concord, in LA, talk round the water cooler and a BUA is coming JJ is sitting on it waiting to release it.

It’s all CAA and Megan’s fault. They are drugging Chris and he has clout chaser friends and everyone he and she know breadcrumb the fandom and he sends out messages in his interviews.

TMZ: Ah weren’t some blogs involved in scammer money out of Chris’s fans.

TB: Yes but that was Candy’s fault

TMZ: 👌 don’t call us we’ll call you🤦🏻‍♀️

🫠

The thing is that’s exactly how I think it would go if they ever called them😂😂

[katareyoudrilling]

Hi Kat

'Shared Document' has its Fan Fiction Birthday on 28th August 🎂

Happy birthday!

Tell us something about that fic, anything you like, and we'll help blow out the candles and wish it many happy returns!

You can save this ask until the actual date or reply whenever you like.

Omg, really?? It’s been two years??

It feels longer ago, honestly lol

To celebrate Shared Document’s birthday, I’ll tell the true story that inspired it…

In early 2021, I had just started writing smut and just started falling for the one and only Pedro Pascal. We were still a year away from me joining tumblr. Also, I was in my second year as treasurer for my kid’s elementary school PTA (don’t worry, we weren’t *that* kind of PTA)

One day, I’m just minding my business when I get an email from another PTA board member. The email says “Katie, what’s this?” followed by a couple of sentences from something I was writing.

I’m sure you can all imagine the full body panic that took over me. I immediately wrote her back explaining that I had taken up “creative writing” over the pandemic and it was from something I wrote (the sentences weren’t explicit but it was pretty clear what type of thing they were from). I apologized profusely and said how I had no idea how I could have emailed that to her.

She responded back that it was ok and not to worry, but that I hadn’t emailed it her… I had put those sentences in a shared google doc she had sent out the night before

☠️☠️☠️

Cue hyperventilating.

Here’s what happened— she was getting everyone in a leadership role with the PTA to fill out our job descriptions in a Google sheet so that we could start recruiting volunteers for the next school year. I had quickly filled in my responsibilities and remember doing some cut/pasting and the doc being weird about it. Turns out I had cut those sentences from my fic earlier in the day and had accidentally pasted them in the doc.

I was MORTIFIED. She had deleted it from the doc but I was able to see who had been in the document during the time it was there… and it wasn’t just me. No one ever said anything, but I was panicked for a while. She ended up moving out of our district that summer and I haven’t seen her since, which is a shame, I really liked her. She did say that she would like to read more, so I sent her Reunion later that year when I finished it and she enjoyed it.

I was able to laugh about the whole incident pretty quickly and knew it would make a great story one day. Fast forward to spring of 2022– I am finishing my time on the PTA board, we have resumed in-person meetings, and I have been on tumblr for a few months. Four of us go out for drinks after a PTA meeting and start talking pandemic hobbies. I revealed mine. They all wanted to read my stuff but I wasn’t sure they were ready for it. (I didn’t tell the shared document story until I was officially done with the PTA and then only to a few people. It definitely got a good laugh and some dropped jaws when I did)

My writing is an open secret now among my extended friend group. My closest friends (2 of which were at that table when I shared my pandemic hobby. That night was in many ways the start of our friendship) have read some of my stuff and so have some who weren’t there that night.

The third at the table wanted to read but he is a dad and I told him I wouldn’t send smut to another woman’s husband lol, but if he had his wife ask me, I would send it to her and she could decide. That hasn’t happened yet lol. She and I are getting to be friends now and I can’t imagine him admitting to her that he knew about my hobby years ago and wanted to read it. He told me he tried to find my tumblr, but as you all know finding anything on tumblr is a fools errand. He’s never going to find and I don’t think he’s tried since right after that night.

I wanted to use the story as the base of a fic but really struggled with how to do it until one day I had the idea that became Shared Document! The story is a funny one for me, but reader gets a much more satisfying ending 😏

Thanks for helping me celebrate!

[x-on-the-calendar-business]

ryan ross iceberg (tier 5)

tier 1, tier 2, tier 3, tier 4, tier 6, tier 7, tier 8

near end of the iceberg:

r.r. confessions twt account:

there used to be a ryan confessions account on twitter under this name, but it was deleted. however, people said the most unhinged shit on there and there was so much drama. i wish i could list specific examples, but i don’t have any unfortunately.

there is a new ryan ross confessions account here, but i think it was created after the last one ceased to exist [i]. this one also has some unhinged stuff on it, such as someone saying they used ryden theory for their gender studies class, and someone else claiming that ryan has a child on the way (they confirmed they were joking). also the person who claimed their friend hooked up with ryan in a bathroom or something like that.

there is just nothing going on in the ryan sphere so the stans are bored.

dank eyes:

this is the nickname for dan keyes because, when you look at his instagram handle dankeyes, it looks like dank eyes. in 2015/2016, this is how most of us referred to him. honestly, i still call him this most of the time out of habit.

light brown:

this is a…uh song? that shane morris (we’ll talk about him next) posted on his soundcloud in 2012 featuring ryan and danny fujikawa.

you can listen to it here for the lore:

shane morris:

buckle up for this one.

this is ryan’s former manager from about 2012-2016, and he was just an absolutely horrible person. the masterpost about all of his wrongdoings (which i will link of course) starts out with “tw: rape, self harm, abuse, pedophilia, body-shaming, sexism, swearing, talk of drug use, suicide, nazism, classism, generally dicky things,” if that doesn’t tell you how things are gonna go [ii].

there is so, so much that this could be an entire post itself, so i will give a tldr but link some posts for further reading. there’s a couple of things related to him that will also appear as their own entries, so i will save in depth discussion of those for later.

shane has a pretty extensive history of posting disgusting things on the internet: rape jokes, fat shaming, making fun of people who self harm, eating disorders, slurs, basically anything that is problematic. the post i’m going to link shows specific tweets and tumblr posts about this. he also has a history of bullying ryan’s fans, and the picture below is one of many examples of it.

so he was generally an abhorrent human being, but let me elaborate on some of the stuff specific to ryan. shane would often promise fans new music from ryan but never follow through with it, likely because ryan didn’t know he was doing this. he actually ended up leaking some of ryan’s songs, but we’ll touch on that again later, along with him impersonating ryan on both twitter and facebook. once he and ryan cut ties, shane also deleted ryan’s soundcloud, i guess in an attempt to “get back” at him and the fans by robbing us of music that was backed up anyway. he spread rumors that ryan is a drug addict and transphobic as well [iii].

the context that ryan is not really active on social media is so important here because he had no idea of a) the kind of person shane was and what terrible things he said on the internet, and b) the way he was attempting to sabotage ryan’s career.

don’t worry, shane is still at it with managing musicians and creating drama. he was travis scott’s former manager, and in 2021, he claimed that he helped travis fake all of his streams to launch his career [iv]. this could be true, but it’s shane so i always take everything he says with a grain of salt anyway. he posted the tiktok about it during the astroworld events, so it reads to me as an attempt to insert himself into the situation (which is so tone deaf for such an insane tragedy like) (and of course, i’m not a travis scott apologist either). i take it that he is still the same as he was 10 years ago.

like i said, there is so much more to cover about shane, but we still have more entries to go over in this tier. therefore, i will leave you with this link to the aforementioned masterpost:

and another link with some more information:

its for lovers or just friends:

i mentioned this in tier 4, but this is a quote from ryan’s last ever livejournal post from june 25, 2006: “You don’t have to love me. You already did. At least enough to keep me smiling from South Carolina to Virginia.it's for lovers (orjustfriends)”

brie larson disneyland:

this refers to this picture of ryan at disney with brie larson.

i think it was from around 2017? they were hanging out because brie and alex greenwald used to date, and they were engaged before breaking up. there’s more pictures of them from this day in this twitter thread [v].

chelsey:

okay put your seatbelts back on cause this one is another entry that is a lot.

chelsey lynn is also known as the panic! stalker, and for good reason. she is a pretty terrible person and a lot of the reason that ryan and brendon don’t speak anymore. as discussed in an earlier tier, ryan and brendon did run into each other at a hooters and hang out, but around that same time, they tweeted each other occasionally, although they weren’t necessarily friends; however, the chelsey saga ultimately led to the complete ending of their friendship (which, granted, is not the worst thing in the world since brendon is also a pretty abhorrent person).

in 2012, chelsey started to catfish ryan pretending to be brendon. she did this by hacking shane valdez’s (panic!’s former photographer and brendon’s former roommate) facebook account and messaging ryan under the guise of brendon. she told him she wanted to rekindle their friendship and was able to get ryan’s number, though she claims she got it from one of his friends, which is still weird. she catfished him for nine (9) months. she was able to coax all sorts of private and vulnerable information from ryan, such as the split, his relationship with z, his childhood, and more [vi].

once a fellow panic! fan and tumblr user got chelsey to confess, she went to shane morris about it, who thankfully actually took it seriously (even though shane has his own history of impersonating ryan, but we’ll talk about that later). due to the general public finding out about chelsey’s wrongdoings, she released an apology, but no fans really accepted it [vi].

chelsey did leak screenshots of her texts with ryan, which i won’t post here because i don’t think it’s appropriate, but you can find them if you feel so inclined. she also messaged someone on facebook stating that she has pictures of ryan she could leak, but she’s “nicer than that” [vii].

as i’m sure you can imagine, once ryan found out the truth, he was pretty upset. he made some instagram posts right after that were fairly sad.

the thing is, chelsey didn’t even like ryan that much; she was just obsessed with brendon and sarah. she stalked their families as well, and even had a spreadsheet of all of their information. she hacked several of their accounts too. she took photos from their private accounts and posted them on her tumblr, posing them as “rare” photos of brendon and sarah [vi].

the worst part of all of this? CHELSEY REMAINED ACTIVE IN THE FANDOM. she had a popular instagram account, called brendonurievines, and sarah followed it.

sarah ended up leaving a comment on instagram about it, in which she says there is nothing but love between them when they see each other…okay then. she also says she doesn’t follow her which is just a lie [viii].

chelsey has met brendon and zack hall multiple times, even as recently as when brendon was in kinky boots. she has deleted her instagram, but her youtube channel is still up. she hasn’t posted in 2 years, but even in 2020, she was posting videos of brendon and sarah.

lastly, she posted a statement on her instagram stories about it in 2018, taking no accountability.

so in conclusion, chelsey is a terrible person and one of the darkest sagas in ryan’s life. the way she catfished him during an already rough time in his life and gave him false hope that he could rekindle one of his oldest friendships was insanely gross. she shouldn’t be forgiven for this, and although she isn’t active anymore, we still shouldn’t forget what she’s done and continue to hold her accountable. here’s a post you can read to get more details than i put here:

gremlin:

a far more lighthearted entry than the last couple.

in 2015, ryan dressed as a gremlin for halloween. we’ll come back to this halloween party in the next tier.

zooey deschanel:

in around 2011, ryan and zooey were friends. they appeared on each other’s instagrams and tweeted back and forth some. the pics of them together are from vicky t’s christmas party in 2011.

the tragic love life of ryan ross:

this a series of tumblr posts by @pathetic-at-the-disco that chronicle ryan’s relationships. it starts from his high school girlfriend (who most of fever was written about), and it was originally supposed to end with helena, but they left off before moving on to z berg 5 years ago. it also discusses jac, keltie, katie, and his fling in cape town [ix].

they are fairly long posts because they contain a lot of detail, but i definitely recommend reading them because they’re really informative. definitely very well done and impressive. in fact, i sourced them a lot when talking about jac and keltie.

if you remember, in tier 2 i said i would link more info about his relationships with jac and keltie later in the iceberg. so here we are:

this is another post for further reading that corrects some things that were incorrect in the original post:

hung out with freshmen:

i cannot find the source for this anywhere, but in an interview, ryan said that when he was in his junior/senior year of high school, he hung out with freshmen.

tweets that aren’t his:

back to shane morris i fear.

in 2014, he hacked ryan’s twitter. i’ll talk about the specific tweets he made in the next tier. ryan did find out about the hacking and tweeted this.

all of the tweets are still up, and his twitter bio still says, “Nope. It wasn’t me.”

this is my coming out party:

in 2009, someone hacked ryan’s twitter and tweeted this, and it was absolutely iconic. i actually quote this frequently lmao

ryan ross struggles:

this is a twitter account, ryanrosstruggle (shoutout kiki), who posts struggles from ryan ross stans. struggle accounts basically just post unhinged or cringey tweets (or other posts) from people within the fandom. there are other kinds of posts they repost, but it’s really hard to describe, so you should just go to kiki’s twitter to see some of the things she tweets [x]. here’s a couple examples:

up next, we finish the actual iceberg before diving into the deeper waters.

tier 6

references:

[i] https://twitter.com/ryanrossconf?lang=en

[ii] https://astroe.tumblr.com/post/42733669382/shane-morris-and-why-everybody-hates-him

[iii] https://pathetic-at-the-disco.tumblr.com/post/172418363736/hey-can-you-elaborate-on-the-whole-shane-thing-i

[iv] https://www.dailydot.com/unclick/travis-scott-shane-morris/

[v] https://twitter.com/crossboydreamie/status/1569466922042802178?lang=en

[vi] https://pathetic-at-the-disco.tumblr.com/post/172832450316/the-time-that-ryan-ross-was-catfished-by-a-fan

[vii] https://dallonsmiles.tumblr.com/post/42837896821/here-are-a-few-screenshots-from-a-conversation

[viii] https://pathetic-at-the-disco.tumblr.com/post/172147291981/last-year-i-remeber-in-a-comment-sarah-left-on

[ix] https://pathetic-at-the-disco.tumblr.com/post/171140808026/the-tragic-love-life-of-ryan-ross-all-links

[x] https://twitter.com/ryanrosstruggle

[discorddramahub]

There has been this ongoing feud between me and this group of users (let’s call them Fat Person TF Fetishist, Himbo Fetishist and Anime Body Horror Fan) because of what happened in 2020. Basically after Anime Body Horror Fan under their account left Deviantart she told me that she didn’t like me turning them into a Pokemon in my transformation pics, okay I get why they didn’t like me doing that but could you not make it look like you think it’s wrong for me to defend myself against people like your friends? Your friend was the only who did the stupid ‘covid19 is not a fetish’ shit and asked me to tell them what covid19 was, I said i’d leave them alone but they made whiny status posts about me.

Her last conversation with me made it look like she was siding with Himbo instead of me just because 'oh noes…he did a piece about covid19’ and then the Fat Person Fetishist blocked me and when I asked him to unblock me he called me a creepy stalker, told me to go screw myself or whatever he thought I should do, I responded in the most dignified manner I could and told him i’d leave him by, but the problem was he kept mentioning me, his friends did to.

Like if you want to move on from me, do that, delete all posts about me, don’t go acting like I’m obsessed with you. I am not, you’d think they would get the memo but apparently not even a document that was made three years ago was enough. Yeah, they made a whole ass document accusing me of grooming based on an RP I used to do with two of my characters (dude, it’s just a roleplay session with fictional characters, it’s not grooming, it wasn’t even sexual) and stalking and of all things being transphobic.

It was just one anime character transformation rant, the comment wasn’t even saying anything bad about transgendered people, it was still observing how sometimes fans of specific tf art and stories use both he and she and I was being ignorant because I didn’t know bigender was a thing, so what, it didn’t mean I hate people of different gender identities. I swear there’s a whole part of the Character-TF-Discord-Server that flat out hates me for stuff I did to them in 2020.

You’d think the Fat Person Fetishist would have learned whati gnore means, but he has mentioned me more than once since then. When i’m only just commenting on how his clown transformation fetish and fetishization of fat men contrasts his twitter posts which are about fat-shaming.

[goongiveusnothing]

If Jeff was a woman I am sure they would’ve made his name and actions go viral . But they know this reflects on Harry and they can’t say ‘they only dated for x amount of time you don’t know if he agrees’. They were trending and dming Harry trying to make him not be silent when everyone was protesting in 2020 . Why aren’t they doing the same now if they are so sure it’s because he’s not online ?

You would think his last new post would be filled with fans telling him to talk about Palestine but it’s like 10 people the most and those comments barely have likes . It’s either his team deleting comments or they really don’t call him out

https://x.com/hrrycvlt/status/1725231442911707250?s=46&t=wq-YtJcV1fPahpzRlWHeSw

it's also because they're scared to death about this situation

if harry is a zionist he's getting full on cancelled

they know it's very likely he is, but are in denial

so they're all hoping to ignore the situation so they can get back to jacking off to the thought of him from 5 years ago, without having to acknowledge anything about who he is or stanning a man without any real integrity or morality.

they keep this stuff buried precisely because they all suspect he's a zionist and if they start putting pressure on it they're going to find out the hard way

if they believed it was just jeff, they would put pressure on jeff to be fired or exposed. they would share threads berating and shaming him. it would not be their little dirty secret.

just wait till one of them tries to chuck a palestinian flag at him at a show

[nyelung]

Fic author interview! Let's see what that sets rolling in my head. Maybe even some words for fic? Thank you @lynne-monstr <3

No-pressure tagging: @narina-vhey @dragonpyre @theloneliestshipper

How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 26 after I went on a bit of an orphaning (and deletion) spree last year.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

397,281. Also a victim of last year, I guess, but I'm getting back there. I kinda hope to find the time to raise that to 500k and feel good with what I've written but we'll see.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hence begins the journey (part 4 of the vampire Percy series I'm writing) - 598

The Ferryman (potc) - 474

Negotiator's Garden (star wars OS) - 414

Of New Beginnings (part 1 of the vampire Percy series I'm writing) - 344

Far Dawn (part 3 of the vampire Percy... well, you can guess it) - 307

Well, I'm seeing a pattern here is all I'm saying. I'm also wistfully staring at the Ferryman because, well, that's no longer my baby because it's too old for that but that fic has been with me for a while and looking at it now I really want to get around to officially finishing it someday. It's also hilarious to see that Star Wars oneshot up there but I guess vaguely fae Obi-Wan is a fun premise. Fond memories writing that one.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do. There are a few comments in my inbox that are a bit of a pile of shame right now but generally I respond to comments because I love talking about the fic I share. Like that one post so eloquently put it: I write for myself, I share for a feeling of community. Or something like that.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ooof, that's a tough question because I don't like angsty endings with a few rare exceptions. I think the closest I got online can aspire to vaguely ominous (as in hinting at Order 66) but that's not much, is it?

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Another tough question because I don't go darker than bittersweet for endings I write so, in a way, they're all more or less happy endings? Hmm, I would say maybe No Doubt In Us (TKA canon divergence) bc a) it's actually finished and b) the characters worked hard for their ending and got it.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not as often as I'd like to and somehow I never get around to finishing them.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

One or two unhappy comments when I wrote Obi-Wan as bisexual (I mean, come on, look at the guy. He's supposed to be straight?) because how dare I write him like that but that's about it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Rarely and somehow usually as a gift for one person or another. Curious.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not apart from those mass-stealing incidents where lots of fic got copied to other sites and all that. At least not that I know of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think ten years ago or so someone wanted to translate one of my fics into russian but I honestly can't remember what came of that.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, actually, with the wonderful @theloneliestshipper and with @narina-vhey but overall I prefer to write on my own because I got my own approach, time limitations and all in all it just became too stressful.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I don't have one. On further thought, I don't think I'd be happy having an all-time favourite. I prefer that to stay in constant flux.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Oh, that's difficult. Stuff from the pile of shame, probably, so i'll pass on this answer^^

15. What are your writing strengths?

I am told that I manage to keep the characters in character but I think my favourite thing that one person pointed out was that I am good at building connections between canon tidbits to make up new canon divergences and headcanons.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Since my favourite topic is canon divergence, most of my plotbunnies have a tendency to turn into longfic which, as we all know, is not that easy to finish.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I could read this question in two ways but I think it means writing dialogue in a different language than the general narration and, no, just no. I don't automatically pass on a fic for that if it's using phrases from a conlang in moderation but usually it's just far more confusing than enriching the experience for me.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Oh, hmm. I'm not sure. The first fandom stuff I did online was for Yu-Gi-Oh and Detective Conan, I think. First fanfic was probably some OC for some high fantasy novel or other.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Polymachina (I'm getting there) and zjl/xby/szp for King's Avatar.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written

I can't choose but the whole vampire Percy series has some of my favourite moments I've written, so I'll go with that one.

[cassiuspr]

[OOC: Content warning for heavy gore and blood! Read at your own risk!]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The recording starts out halfway blocked by a tree, peeking out from behind it. The camera is positioned at shoulder level on the left hand side, almost intentionally. Someone appears from out of frame, a woman with blue hair, and pink bangs. She looks around confused.]

?: Gotcha.

[Voice identified: Cassius.]

?: Mari? Where are you?

[Voice identified: Marina.]

C: Looking for someone?

[Marina jumps shouting as she does, before running a hand through her hair trying to play it cool. Before looking around for the source of the voice.]

M: Uhhhh… Who's there!

C: Me. Turn around. 

[Marina turns around again before shouting once more and almost falling backwards onto the ground, getting her footing back before speaking again.]

M: Who are you? Where's Mari?

C: Mari is not here. And I’m the last face you’re ever going to see. 

[Before Marina can even blink, he reaches a hand out and grabs Marina by the neck. Slamming her into the ground.]

M: A- LET ME GO!

[Marina begins trying to break out of Cassius' hold, but to no avail. She begins screaming to attempt to get help.] 

M: HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE!

C: Oh, don’t make this too fun for me, I’ve been told that I have to take this seriously. 

[Marina continues struggling, she tries to spit in Cassius' face, only to miss.]

M: I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! JUST LET ME GO!

C: Mhm, right. You know what you’ve done. You’re a problem.

M: What the fuck do you mean! I haven't done anything to you!

C: Oh, Marina… This isn’t personal.

[Marina begins screaming for help again, now crying as she does.]

M: PLEASE DON'T KILL ME I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING! THERE'S SO MUCH LEFT I WANT TO DO!

[Cassius chuckles, and jabs one of the spider-like legs into one of Marina’s hands, allowing himself to stand up, as well as earning another scream from Marina.]

C: You chose this. That extensive research you’ve been doing into Showfall was not going to go unnoticed. 

M: You can't kill me! People will realize I'm missing! You'll be caught!

C: Marina, Marina, Marina… I’ve been at this for 330 years. If I was going to get caught, it would have been a while ago. 

[Marina tries to rip Cassius' spider-like leg out of her hand, only resulting in the leg cutting her hand open right between her middle and pointer fingers. Blood gushing out of the wound. Marina screams in agony, she tries to use the hand but to no use. Half of her hand droops down away from the other as she tries to grab anything to help her. The muscle tissue and some bone now visible.]

C: If you have any last words, I’d say them now. It would be such a shame if the last thing you ever said was an empty threat.

[Marina continues trying to fight back, but to no avail she begins screaming for what could be the final time.]

M: I WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I'LL DELETE THE STUFF I'VE FOUND, I PROMISE! JUST DON'T KILL ME!

C: You people and your silly little promises. God, it’s almost sad how much you think they'll change anything.

[Cassius jabs another leg into Marina’s lower leg.]

M: SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE!

[Marina stops screaming for a moment now sobbing.]

M: Ness… Even if you never hear this… I'm sorry… Please don't hurt her…

C: I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you! Did you say… please hurt Ness? I mean… if you say so…

[Marina screams once again.]

M: NESS, I'M SO SORRY! JUST PLEASE LIVE ON WITHOUT ME! AND DON'T YOU HURT HER!

C: There it is! Now, I hope you’re happy with those being the last thing you’ve ever said. 

M: I–

[Marina is interrupted as Cassius takes three of the remaining spider legs and jams them into the torso area with almost surgical precision. Earning a much, much longer scream from Marina. Cassius seems to be looking for something within her chest cavity. The woman convulses as he roots around. He seems to be taking his time on purpose.]

C: Hm… no… not that…

[A satisfied chuckle, and a few odd squelching noises. The spider legs pull out something red, and the light leaves Marina’s eyes instantly. He turns slightly, his interest now in the heart that he just pulled out of his victim. He takes it gently from the limbs, and inspects it.]

C: And people have the nerve to call me heartless! Look at me, I have one right here in my hand!

[He makes a sound that would have counted as a laugh, were it not so inhuman. Sounding more like a monster shrieking in glee after a hunt than a regular human being laughing at a joke.]

[Cassius holds the heart up like an apple, and slowly brings it to his mouth, he takes a large bite, only picked up due to the disgusting squelching from behind the camera, and the blood that dribbles down his arm. He pulls it away from his mouth, a long string of blood taking a little longer to break than the others.]

[He moves back to the bushes, grabbing a small bag, and moving back over to Marina’s corpse.]

[The man begins methodically taking Marina’s blood and placing it in large bottles that were contained within the bag, a few minutes in, he turns the camera around, the view goes dark. The camera is turned around once more after he has as much as he can take. Before he leaves, he grabs her corpse by the hair, and swiftly slices her head off. He then finally stands back up, and makes his way back into the forest.]

[Transcript end.]

[magnoliamyrrh]

just in case i don’t want to talk abt this any more tw incest u could just delete this

horrific n downright wrong. i wanna say u n everyone else includin that anon did not deserve this n the collective u deserves so much more but i am so grateful seein people talk abt this. i was raised w the extreme pressure that my gen was goin to break the cycle of that type of abuse n i have to come to terms that we didn’t n that’s ok at least to me. it’s so hard to admit to n so impactful to say out loud but it’s what has to b done. it a type of trauma that’s been in my fam for many many yrs n i gaslight myself into believin that we broke it. i stayed in denial n tbh still am in denial bcuz it’s so hard to blame a fam member. esp for me a girl n a teenage girl at that. this isn’t always the universal reaction so there is no guilt if this isn’t the case or if it is but u still luv them no matter what they did it’s so hard to blame them. but sexual abuse is sexual abuse. i hope to god every day that when i have children that will b when the cycle is broken n it all stops but i will never put the verbal pressure on them the way my parents did. one of them was a victim of smthn v extreme so i do not blame them (there it is again) but it’s torture to feel like u let them down when u did nothin wrong. admitting is always the first step to healin. i’m so proud of u for talkin abt this n that anon n everyone else.

ya! i think even though its uncomfortable as hell and disturbing its important that we talk about it. thank you <3 im proud of everyone who pitched in too, and of you, thank u for sharing; its really not easy. i dont think this is the sort of thing we can heal from individually, you know? especially when its a cultural thing. theres so much shame and fear and repression surrounding this kind of stuff, and the only way were gonna heal from it is if, like u said, well start accepting it and talking about it

and yea youre right it is really hard. like my father crossed any possible line with what he did and he abuses his wife too and. i really just want him dead like i dont give a damn, i have to try to calm myself bc i get too focused sometimes on how much i actually want him to suffer. but even with him at times im like,,,, ,, eh but i still care abt him? i went through a whole phase where i felt like it was my responsabilites to help him or like heal him from how deranged he is lmao. but it doesnt last long. but with everyone else its different. (?) like. i realized like idk a year ago that uh yea my grandma did lowkey molest me and it actually made me feel fucking insane. i had no idea what do with it and i still dont?? and its fucked and definitely not ok but like...,,, we all pretend like its fine or just didnt happen i guess bc its,, normal? acceptable??? its weird as all hell, most of the time i just kinda try to not think abt it because i have no idea how to even feel abt the woman when i do. if anything as much as it definitely kinda fucked me up, im frankly way more pissed abt the physical abuse/beatings and endless insults and yelling and shit - like that actually probably did more damage to me. but still like idk yea i .. idk if i excuse it but i definitely explain it like oh she didnt know better etc etc etc. but that doesnt.. ugh it doesnt excuse it?? but i still love her and care for her?? its a fucking nightmare to try to detangle all that. and the shit w my mom too and other family members like uh yea it grosses me out and definitely got to me, this combination of being raised as property + controlling parents + sexualized + actually being whored out by father has k.o.d whatever mental sanity i could have had and it took me many years to.... idk. even start remotely working through all that. but. i still care abt them...?? i think the fact that its no longer happening and dont rly consider it on the same level as the shit w my dad makes it kinda different in my head but its still not fucking ok

and yea. definitely one of the hardest parts of it is being blamed for being uncomfortable/grossed out or even punished for being so when rly thats such a normal reaction to have to this shit. it is psychologically torturous and it is gaslighting and it rly fucks u up in the head..... and its really hard to get to the point where u dont feel like u did anything wrong or you werent to blame. i do presume that w this particular kind of shit tho a lot of it is that they probably went through similar stuff, internalized and repressed it, never dealt w it, and then just proceed to do the same

i hope to god too ill be different. i want to believe in both of us and this new generation that we'll do a better job. i think the fact that were even talking abt it shows some progress u kno. my mother and grandmother told me for many years that i wont do a better job than them and its just normal for kids to be raised w beatings and yelling and insults and controlling behavior and all that shit,,,, but. ive always been terrified of that. since i was little i knew if i ever had a kid i wouldnt want to put them through any of this. if i cant break the cycle id rather not raise a kid at all. at least for the past like year or two my mother has actually accepted that some of the shit she did wasnt okay and that she was abused by my grandmother too and..... apologized??? which was insane. so. idk. its been a long and weird fucking process. but. i dont think its hopeless

[eldragon-x]

Sincere Love

A Pokepasta taking place in Pokemon White. I’ve put quite some work into this one, even more so because I included in-game images, and I’m really proud of it :) I hope you’ll get some enjoyment out of this too.

Warning: character death 2229 Words

Recently, something really weird happened to my copy of Pokemon White.

I should give you some context first: Gen 5 was my first proper introduction to Pokemon, with Pokemon White being my very first game in the franchise, and I still consider the Black and White games some of my favourites to this day. My first starter Pokemon was a Snivy that I’ve called Angelica, which I've grown very attached to. After I got Pokemon Black as well as the sequels, I always traded Angelica through them whenever I deleted a save file so I wouldn’t lose her. I still own the very same copies I got about a decade ago and the same goes for my Serperior, or at least it did until that odd event.

I remember taking Angelica to the musical a lot on my first playthroughs because I thought it was fun, but as my interest in Pokemon grew I started to pay less attention to the side-activities in the games and played more competitively.

At this point, I should bring up that the event I really want to talk about here wasn’t my first unusual experience with a Pokemon game. But the earlier stuff already started happening a long time ago and it was minor enough for me to shrug it off, which means I don’t have any pictures of it and you’ll just have to take my word for it. 

If my memory doesn’t fail me, things first got weird not too long after I started playing competitively. I already owned Black and White for a few years at this point and still usually had Angelica in most of my teams. Sometimes when I took her to Nimbasa City, a text box would pop up saying that Angelica would like to visit the musical. I assumed it was a normal prompt that came from me often doing shows with her in the past, so I ignored it and quickly forgot about it since it just stopped showing up at some point.

Sometimes she would endure a move that would’ve normally knocked her out or dodge moves “for me” as well as suddenly recover from status conditions so “I wouldn’t be worried” as the descriptions in battle explained. Of course that didn’t make sense, I only ever used her in the Gen 5 games and the affection stat was introduced one generation later, plus this has only ever happened with Angelica years after I had her with me, but as I said I didn’t think much of it back then.

What was even more unusual was that Angelica soon refused to attack when I used her in battle more often in a day. The game gave me no explanation beyond that she just didn’t want to or was too tired. I thought it was a real shame because I still really loved her, being my very first Pokemon and all, but I just couldn’t cooperate with her when I mainly enjoyed the games through building teams that are as effective in battle as possible. Still, I always kept her in my games out of fondness.

Eventually I kinda fell out of my love for Pokemon and didn’t play any of the games for several years. However, I decided to replay Pokemon White a while ago out of nostalgia.

I picked Tepig as my starter and turned my replay into a Nuzlocke Challenge to get right back into competitive strategizing as well. Normally, I would have chosen Snivy as my starter as I always did, but I figured I’d just trade over Angelica from Black 2, where she currently was, once I collected all Gym Badges. I know trading is against Nuzlocke Rules, but I was just doing it for fun anyway and made an exception for her. Getting back into Pokemon without my first partner just didn’t feel right to me.

Most of the game went as normal and I got well through it, even if I was a bit rusty. Things only started to get weird when I traded Angelica into the game and added her to my team after beating Iris. The first thing I did was check on her current status and moves, where I quickly noticed that something about her sprite was off. Luckily, I took pictures from this point on.

I might have missed it if I wasn’t so familiar with Serperior’s sprite, but I could tell that she looked… tired? I wanted to write it off as nothing of note, but remembering the experiences I had with Angelica before, I thought I should start documenting them. 

I moved on to Route 10 where I didn’t use Angelica until Cheren’s battle. I thought she’d make easy work of his Samurott, being Level 100 and having a type advantage but…

She again refused to attack on her first turn and fainted the next round for no apparent reason. All that the game gave me was that she “collapsed under the pressure”. Of course I was upset, I didn’t even get to properly use Angelica while getting back into this game. Nonetheless I returned her to the PC box in Opelucid City after beating Cheren, since I was still doing a Nuzlocke.

At this point I decided that I would end the challenge once I beat the main story so I could put Angelica back into my team. I still adored her after all, even if she was difficult at times.

I managed to beat the game and went to pick up Angelica from the Poke-Center in Accumula Town as soon as I was past the credits and the first post-game cutscene. To my surprise, she wasn’t anywhere in the PC Box. Instead I found a Dusknoir in her place.

The nickname of the Pokemon looked corrupted as the n and i were replaced with a question mark and a hashtag, and the only move it had was Mirror Move. It also had a tense expression and I noticed something like a crack in its collar.

As if Angelica’s disappearance wasn’t weird enough, I had no idea where this Dusknoir came from. There aren’t any Pokemon from the Duskull line available in this game and I would know if I ever traded a Dusclops or a Dusknoir onto this save file. I didn’t even like this Pokemon.

I remembered that Dusknoir were supposed to collect the souls of those who have died to bring them to the spirit world, which only made this situation more upsetting. So many unexplainable things have already happened around Angelica, I wouldn’t be surprised if this thing just took her soul with it. It wasn’t even the case that she actually died, I was going to take her back just now.

I couldn't really get into the post-game in my frustration and just wanted to find a way to get my Serperior back. First, I put the Dusknoir as well as a Tranquill in my team, taught Tranquill Fly, and flew to Castelia City where I changed Dusknoir’s nickname to “Dust”. I wasn’t going to give it much more attention, I just didn’t like its strange name and wanted to change it to whatever. 

I then moved on to Route 4, somehow hoping if I brought the Dusknoir with me, I’d be able to find Angelica somewhere in Unova. I noticed yet another thing off when I encountered a few wild Pokemon.

My other team members refused to attack, just like Angelica frequently did. When I went to check on them outside of battle, their sprites also made them look tired. On top of that, their eyes were just blacked out and it looked like the flame of Rex, my Emboar, wasn’t burning as much as it was supposed to.

Dust seemed to be as normal as when I found it, but still had this tense expression.

At this point, I was even more bitter towards it. First it had the audacity to take my most beloved Pokemon away and now it inflicted the rest of my team with the same status she had.

Luckily, Route 4 was short so I was able to reach Nimbasa City quickly. But before I could make my way to the Poke-Center to heal what little damage my team took, a text box popped up.

“Dust would like to visit the musical.”

Sure, now the thing was just mocking my loss of Angelica. I would have put it back into the box or just released it under normal circumstances, but none of what was going on was normal in the first place and I still hoped to find some way to get Angelica back.

After healing my Pokemon, I decided to fly to Mistralton City and go to Celestial Tower from there. It was the graveyard of Unova after all. I regretted not bringing Repels with me as I struggled through the wild Pokemon battles and Rex even ended up being knocked out, but I still headed on. Unfortunately, I wasn’t any smarter when I reached the summit of the tower, and ringing the bell only prompted this text.

“Dust looks upset.”

I wouldn’t know what for, considering I had more reason to be upset with it right now. I gave up and opened the team option in the menu, intending to use Tranquill to fly off the tower when I noticed yet another concerning oddity. 

Rex wasn’t in my team anymore.

Naturally, I assumed the Dusknoir had taken yet another Pokemon from me. It was frustrating, but I couldn’t do much about it. I flew to Opelucid City and checked my PC Box.

I was very relieved to find that Rex was still with me, just moved into the box where I left Angelica and found Dust. This only further confirmed my suspicions that the cursed Dusknoir was responsible for the exhaustion of my Pokemon and Angelica’s disappearance. I put Rex back into my team and checked on him. Aside from his weird sprite, he seemed alright. No way I was going to let this Dusknoir take another Pokemon from me.

From here, I decided to travel to the east. Maybe exploring the newly unlocked part of the region would bring me somewhere. Despite my Pokemon barely fighting, I managed to make it to the Village Bridge, on which yet another text box popped up.

“Dust would like to listen to the song.”

Way to add salt to the wound. While this wasn’t as significant as the musical, I remember that I used to talk to all the musicians in the village and stand on the bridge, pretending Angelica was right next to me, listening to the song together. I thought it was fitting with how I first made her into such a musical mascot. This Dusknoir apparently felt the need to even make fun of that.

I just kept moving, hoping to make some progress soon and get rid of this Pokemon afterwards. I barely left the Bridge and entered Route 12 when I encountered something else.

I didn’t think for long before cycling towards the monochrome Serperior sprite and entered a battle. 

My trainer character sent out Dust despite it not even being at the top of my team, but what shocked me even more was the Pokemon confronting me. The Serperior had Angelica’s name, missed a bit of her left ear, and looked clearly upset. She was colored white-grey aside from her pale yellow spots and her sad, fully black eyes.

The next thing I noticed was that the game didn’t even give me the options to use items, flee or switch out my Pokemon. All I could do was battle, which worried me. I wasn’t sure if I could help Angelica in any way, but I didn’t want Dust to harm her. I know it only knew Mirror Move, but I still hoped it wouldn’t hit too hard when I selected it.

To my surprise, Angelica only used Mirror Move as well, rendering both attacks useless. I was confused as the battle went on just like this, both sides only using Mirror Move, before a realization dawned on me. I immediately felt guilty and as if the game was aware of my emotions, the screen faded to black, ending the battle. Back in the overworld, the ghostly Serperior had vanished.

I flew back to Castelia City where I renamed Dust to “Dabria”. It felt more appropriate.

I then flew to Nimbasa City and made my way straight to the musical where I chose to have her partake in the “Forest Stroll” show and dressed her up similarly to how I’d always dress Angelica. Her tense expression was no longer there.

The show went as normal until I returned to the main hall, where one more text box appeared, telling me Dabria would like to stay at the musical.

I put her in the nearby PC Box, hoping it would suffice.

I later noticed that I couldn’t take Dabria out of her box on any other PC, only the one in the musical building. When I tried to add her to my team and leave the building, she would just automatically return to the box. But there was never an issue in having her take part in the shows.

I hadn’t really lost my beloved Pokemon partner when she died, but I surely lost her now.

[after-witch]

Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Title: Hook Line and Sinker [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve broken up with Ransom Drysdale, and you mean it this time. But the freedom that comes with the breakup leads to a series of unexpected coincidences that leave you wondering: was it worth the price?

Word Count: 8955

notes: yandere, mentions of physical abuse, financial abuse, comfort sweaters

Nothing lasts forever. Not even relationships--and certainly not love. What might start off as an intense, passionate relationship can (and did, in your case) eventually fizzle; things that you were willing to overlook when you were absolutely besotted would wear down with time, and eventually they became too much to ignore.

That’s what you tell yourself, what you remind yourself, in the moment after you tell him:

“It’s over, Ransom. We’re done. I’m leaving.”

It couldn’t last forever. Not with his inability to stay sober, not with his tendency to cheat on you with meaningless flings that somehow hurt more than any steamy single-minded affair. Not with his flare-ups of controlling tendencies that left you in tears on the bathroom floor as he asked you to please stop dressing like a slut in front of his family, is that too hard to ask?

You’d asked him to change. He swore he would; he never did. You forgave him, more than once, more times than you could count. But enough was enough. Maybe he thought you were too weak to leave him, especially three years into your relationship, when your lives were becoming so integrated, pushing you towards a potential permanent future. It was a future that left you feeling numb and anxious. Stuck in a marriage with someone who wanted to stay with you but treated you horribly, all the same. And that wasn’t even getting into the family dynamics that left your head spinning.

He stares at you now, and his mouth opens just a little bit in what you know is going to be a barrage of questions, insults, maybe even threats spurred on by your words. But instead he closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter chuckle.

“Well, damn. This sucks.” You can see the indent of his tongue in his cheek before he clicks and shrugs. “Guess that’s it then. Need help packing your shit or what?”

His response is so blasé that you’re genuinely shocked and, you must admit, a little hurt. He didn’t even ask for a second chance or beg you to stay or argue with you about your terrible timing because our-vacation-to-Hawaii-is-coming-up. So it’s your turn to look surprised, and you shake your head.

“No, I… already took care of it. It’s at a storage locker.” You didn’t have family left, and your close friends had pulled away from you one by one once you stayed with Ransom time and time again--so you’d had to pay movers to help you pack and transport everything to storage over the weekend, while Ransom was away and you were free to make a clean breakup.

He nods, sticks his hand inside his jacket pockets. He’s looking around the room, avoiding direct eye contact in a clear show of his discomfort. It’s weird seeing Ransom like this--the normally self-assured, cocky Ransom, looking for any excuse not to look at you.

“So… see ya around?” His tone is sincere, if still confused. The idea of you leaving must have really never crossed his mind. The look on his face when he finally faces you again appears genuinely puzzled.

He sticks out his hand and it feels almost comical for things to end this way, particularly considering the nights you’d spent imagining some big blow up, some big fight with Ransom screaming and you firing off the many reasons why it had to end no matter what he said.

But it didn’t go the way you expected at all. It was calm. Easy. A clean break-up.

So you shake his hand and grab your purse and the small roller-suitcase and give a half-hearted wave as you walk out the door; the taxi you’d hired to pick you up is waiting, car running, meter going. You would be staying at a hotel for two weeks, which would hopefully be enough time to find a semi-decent apartment; your credit score had improved so much since Ransom added you to his cards, to a shared checking account, and it wouldn’t be too difficult to get approved.

A new life, one where you could focus on yourself for once, was just around the corner.

**

"I'm sorry, miss, but it's definitely not the reader. The card is declined."

You've had this nightmare before. No, you've lived this nightmare before--years ago when your credit was shit and you ran up your cards and had to face the music in a publicly humiliating display with the longest checkout line you'd ever seen behind you. Only that was years ago, in a little grocery store, and since getting together with Ransom you never had to worry about problems like this. You never had to worry about the shame of not having enough, not being enough.

But this? This was happening now. In an upscale hotel. With your nice purse (a Christmas present) and designer clothes (casual, comfortable) and your cheeks flushed undeniably warm.

The hotel clerk has a tight, sympathetic smile on her face. A coworker who walks behind her glances at you, judging, and you just know he's going to head into some break room and tell everyone but yet another piece of discarded army candy with a declined credit card. You wish you'd kept your sunglasses on.

"Did it, um, say why? I don't--" you plaster a smile on your face, hating the way this all feels familiar, like a part of your past coming back to haunt you. "I don't understand, the card is good."

The clerk's smile flickers, just a bit.

"It says there's a fraud alert on this card. Perhaps you'd better call the company. Or would you like me to call them?"

Fucking. Ransom.

"Oh, oh no, don’t worry about it. I’ll call them myself. I'm so sorry about this." You turn away from the clerk as quickly as possible and step away from the counter, away from the person waiting behind you who will surely have no trouble with their card, away from the clerks giving you a passive side-eye. You lean against a cool cement pillar in the lobby and you know what you have to do.

You have to call Ransom.

You haven't deleted his number yet--you'd planned on calling him today or tomorrow to figure out how to split up your shared finances--so it's easy enough to find the number. It's not so easy to tap his contact, but you have to, so you force yourself to do it and stare at his photo as the call rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello?” Your breath catches but in an instant, when the message continues, you feel stupid. It’s his voicemail. Fuck.

You text him, instead. Emergency. Call right away. And of course: He leaves you on read. Fuck.

You call him again. And again. He picks up on the sixth call, but your heart is racing too hard and sweat is beading down your forehead and it takes you a moment to confirm that the "Hello?" wasn't part of the voicemail message this time. Fuck.

"Um. Hey," you say, keeping your voice as un-royally-pissed-off as possible, because if he did put in a fraud alert then you don't want to risk any additional asshole moves. "So there's something wrong with the card? The one that ends in 8921? The hotel said there was a fraud alert and--"

"Did you really think I'm going to keep paying for your shit if we're over?"

His voice is quick, biting--exactly what you'd expected from him earlier. Somehow it stings even harsher over the phone, where you feel more helpless, unable to avoid his words.

"I thought..." you wet your lips, trying to maintain your cool. "Look, my name is on them, so I thought send you my part of the payments until I can get cards in my own name."

He chuckles, low and short. "Yeah? What, you want to create a payment schedule or something?"

You fight back the annoyance in your tone. You hate having to be the bigger person, but your finances--your life--is on the line. "Yeah, actually, that'd be perfect. It wouldn't be for long. You know I'll pay them on time, I'm not looking to screw you over."

"You're going too pay me on time? For all the stuff you've bought, the stuff I’ve bought for you, this hotel room and god knows what else? How are you going to afford all that?"

He knows you recently earned a promotion at your work. He knows this, because you were so excited about it, and his half-assed congratulations over lukewarm leftovers left you feeling bitter and sad and useless. So you can't help it when bitterness seeps into your voice with your answer. "You know I just got a promotion."

"Did you?" It's said in such a casual tone that it gives you pause, but a moment later he simply hangs up on you.

Fucking. Ransom.

You shove your phone back into your purse, and the clerks at the counter are staring at you. Sweat has trickled down your back and your shirt sticks to your skin ever-so-slightly as you pull away from the pillar and approach the counter, awkward smile and cheeks hot.

"There is an issue with the card, they're working on it, so I’ll just call for a new reservation when it's fixed. I'm so sorry for the mix up!" Your voice is so peppy and high-pitched and fake and you feel like you’re back at your old job, feet aching with falling apart shoes, forced to deal with people returning old toasters laden with crumbs, calming they’d “just bought it the day before and it didn’t work.”

"Of course," the clerk says, and you know this is hotel clerk code for "You're a shitty liar."

You roll your suitcase out of the lobby with tears in your eyes and you shove your sunglasses on as soon as you've cleared the building. You feel exhausted, drained--so you use what little energy you have left to start googling for cheap motels.

**

The room smells musty. You pin the plastic sheet you’d snagged at a dollar store over the comforter and pray it will be enough to protect you from whatever is on the likely unwashed fabric. The TV is broken, there’s no WIFi, and there’s a few suspicious stains on the floor that make you wonder if this hotel has ever been featured in a porno, true crime show, or both.

But it’s all you could afford with the cash in your wallet. You only had enough cash on hand for 2 nights at a ragtag hotel that offers nightly and hourly rates. You didn’t dare use your debit card or any credit cards with Ransom’s name or information on them.

You just need some sleep. A good night’s sleep to feel renewed and ready to tackle retaking your life, bit by bit. In the morning, you need to go to the bank and withdraw your money from the joint bank account. Then you can reopen an account in your name, get a new debit card, and apply for a few credit cards afterwards.

Sure, it would have been nicer to do this without Ransom being an asshole. But deep down, you suspected he wouldn’t let you have a clean, lets-still-be-friends type of break. Not after all the times he’d pressured you into staying, manipulating you with words and gifts and promises, promises. Promises that were worth shit. 

The sheet crinkles underneath you as you scroll through your messages. You’d texted a few formerly close friends about the breakup earlier, hoping that they’d maybe want to reconnect. So far, you’d been left on read, blocked, and received only one response: “New number, who is this?”

So much for that. Not that you can blame them. There are only so many times they can rush over for a late night intervention in which you tell them every horrible thing Ransom does (he’s controlling, he doesn’t want me to meet with friends without permission, he tells me what I can and can’t wear, he cheats, he lies, he pushed me--)--before they get tired of you returning to him, again and again and again.

The only one who’d been texting you recently--okay, for the past year--had been Ransom. Mostly dick pics. And demands for you to send him something back, which you always did after a while, because you didn’t want to deal annoyed texts or voice messages accusing you of clearly cheating on him or hating him because why else wouldn’t you be willing to send him so much as a sexy selfie to your boyfriend? 

But in between those, there were conversations. Sometimes sweet ones, sometimes thoughtful ones that always made you remember why you fell hard for him in the first place. Late night conversations from when he was off on trips. You try not to wonder if he was fucking someone on each of these trips, if while you were sending him a late night ramble about a TV show and he was humoring you with jokes and quips, he was actually snuggled up with someone else. Laying in bed, naked, laughing at your dumb ass waiting at home.

The not-so-sweet conversations were ones that you had screenshotted and sent to your friends more than once, before they pulled themselves away. Texts asking where you were. Asking who you ate lunch with, and whether or not you were fucking them. Asking why your new office was connected to a certain co-worker’s, and how many blowjobs you had to give to get said new office because you didn’t tell him about the new office until after you were moved in, so you were clearly hiding him. Asking you to send him outfit pics so he could approve them or make you change if they were too slutty or not slutty enough or if you were only clearly wearing that halter dress to try to get with the bartender.

Yet your mind had always returned to the nice Ransom, the Ransom who made you laugh and squeezed you hard when had a shitty day of work and let you bury your face in his sweater as you snuggled on the couch. Maybe that’s why it took so long to leave.  You were waiting for him to stop being Ransom and start being the fantasy of Ransom you’d conjured in your head.

Your eyes feel heavy so you plug in your phone, turn the sound off, and lay down on the uncomfortable plastic sheet that crinkled over the pillows. It feels strange to lay on a lumpy mattress covered in plastic, after years of custom-made beds and memory foam pillows and all the other luxuries that Ransom was able to provide.

You try not to think about it too much. While you won’t exactly be indulging in all the luxuries you had with Ransom, but your job pays you well, and you won’t ever have to go back to living hand-to-mouth like you did before. You won’t have to worry about late bills and debt collectors and landlords who come late at night and demand inspections while you’re in your pajamas.

You have work in the morning. You have to get to the bank in the morning. Your thoughts are still buzzing with anxiety as you fall into an uneasy slumber.

**

“I’m sorry, but the account has been closed.”

You feel years of customer service training cracking underneath your skin. You can’t freak out. If you freak out, they won’t feel inclined to go the extra mile. You know this, from firsthand experience.

So you take a shaky breath. “Um, this just--it isn’t possible. It’s a joint account. I’m on the account. There was money in there, you can check--”

“I’m sorry, but the funds were transferred and account has been closed by the other account holder. There’s nothing I can do. I suggest contacting the other party in the account.”

You swallow and nod and walk away, this time having been smart enough to keep your sunglasses on to hide your humiliated expression. Why didn’t you insist on having your own account? Ransom said it was better to keep it joint, so you could just buy stuff whenever you wanted. You’d agreed because it was so generous, something you’d never thought possible at the time, when you were used to having to pay overdraft fees and cringing whenever you checked your balance.

Your fingers tremble as you bring up his contact on your phone. You tap. No answer.

You don’t have time to call him two, three, ten times--you have to get to work. So you steady your nerves. You breathe in, you breathe out. You get in your car and plug your phone in and decide to contact your lawyer. Fuck--your lawyer was Ransom's lawyer. But the anxiety eases when you remember that you’d paid him a retainer fee months ago, and Ransom couldn’t do anything about that. You could at least get a basic consult out of the retainer.

The call ringing sounds muffled through your car’s speaker but it isn’t long before someone answers, and you’re transferred to the lawyer Ransom insisted you have--gotta have a lawyer when you have money, babe--and that you hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Hi,” you say, voice artificially bright, “this is--”

You don’t get a chance to finish.

“I know who this is.” The lawyer sounds tired, and his tone is curt and clipped. “I’m sorry. I’m no longer able to provide you with any legal counsel.”

You almost miss a red light and regret calling the office while you were driving.

“Is this about the debit card? Because I paid the retainer months ago--”

“The retainer has been refunded into the connected checking account.”

Your voice looses its artificial cheeriness and you stumble over your words in frustration. “That’s--it’s--it was a joint account, which is why I called, Ransom drained it and took everything. Isn’t there something we can do, because that was my money too and--”

“I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel.”

You want to cry. You hate crying, as an adult. It makes you feel weak. Especially on the phone.

“I don’t understand. Why was the retainer refunded? Did--did someone call you?”

He clears his throat into the phone. “I am no longer able to provide you with legal counsel. Goodbye.”

He hangs up. Your hands shake.

You pull into the parking lot of your work and park the car and as soon as you do, you hunch yourself over the steering wheel and simply shake in frustration.

You have no bank account. Ransom drained it. You have no credit cards. Ransom blocked them. You couldn’t even talk to a lawyer, because--shock--Ransom made sure you couldn’t. Everything was in Ransom’s name. He insisted on adding you to his accounts, closing out your own paltry ones; insisted that he pay off your credit card debt, and making you close those, too, instead adding you to his cards. It was all to help you out, he said, at the time.

Wasn’t it? He was shockingly not judgmental about the state of your finances, and while you’d put up some protest, you didn’t exactly argue with him when he suggested wiping your debts clean and getting your credit back up. And considering that he wasn’t immune to needing a bail-out now and then (late night calls to his grandfather, snarky comments at his parent’s dinner table, come to mind) maybe he could sympathize with being in over your head. Even if your issues were rooted in poverty and shitty jobs and his were rooted in a total lack of financial discipline and, as you’d later found out, a drug addiction.

Still. He helped you before. He would help you now, once he realized how serious it was. For now he was just--reacting like an asshole, acting childish and ridiculous. He was an asshole. You know this. You’ve known this. You need to call him and meet with him and make him realize how ridiculous he’s being, and he’ll sigh and snark but he’ll agree to stop acting like such an ass.

But first you have to work. Life goes on. Even without Ransom--even with Ransom, screwing you over out of pettiness.

The air conditioning in the lobby is on blast, and the familiar smell of clean furniture and floor cleaner from the late-night cleaning crew is surprisingly comforting. Here, you can forget about Ransom--forget about the cards and the lawyer and the fact that your life has been upended in mere hours. If only until your lunch break, at least.

Anthony is working the front desk and you give him a a soft, if strained smile. There’s something in the smile that he gives you in return that reminds you of the hotel clerk. Sympathetic and judgmental.

Ah. You probably look like--well, less than your best, you realize. You did pack some toiletries in your suitcase but the water in the motel had streaks of brown and you didn’t shower, opting instead to rinse your face with what was left of a water bottle you’d bought earlier and layering on more deodorant to make up for the lack of a proper scrub. You probably looked a bit tired, haggard, not unlike some of the employees who got stuck with big clients the night before their paperwork was due.

Still. Nothing that freshening up in your private bathroom--thank god for the new office--can’t help. So you hit the button on the elevator and take deep breaths as you ride up, intent on working as productively as possible. The doors open and you navigate the familiar maze of open-plan desks for the lower-tier workers, desks surrounded by half-walls that always kept you staring straight ahead, lest you accidentally glance over and see a co-worker picking their nose.

Yet as you weave in-and-out of the familiar rows, heading towards the back of the room where the real offices, the ones with full walls and doors and privacy glass lay, you can’t help but feel that something is… off. 

No one calls out to greet you, though that can be easily attributed to the jealousy over your promotion. You’d been working there for far less than most of the lower level workers--Ransom got you the job, with his connections and a hefty revision of your resume and, you assume, some personal phone calls--and you’d already been promoted to senior management. That wasn’t technically Ransom’s work, though. That was all your own effort, your own blood, sweat, tears and intense devotion to each project that came your way. Sure, the connections he helped you make, the dinner parties, all that helped--but if it weren’t for your skills, the connections wouldn’t have made a difference. Right? 

Still, whatever bitterness existed in the people hunch in open-air cubicles, the receptionists always greeted you. But today they caught your eye then awkwardly glanced down, or pretended to be looking for something in their drawers. It was odd. Did you look that bad? That out of sorts?

You shake off the heavy feeling in your stomach and for once, you shut the door to your office instead of keeping it open for passers-by or people needing approval for this-and-that. It feels good to lean against the solid wood door and take a breath, a deep one, invigorating and calming.

A quick trip to the bathroom has you staring at yourself from all angles. You don’t look that bad, you reason. Just tired. But who wouldn’t be, sleeping on a plastic sheet in the shittiest motel in the area? You take a quick sniff under your arms but even that reveals nothing much but a faint hint of sweat and powdery deodorant.

There’s a firm knock at your office door and you glance at the mirror for a final once over before opening it up. It’s your boss. Did you have a meeting? You try to do a mental scan of something you’ve missed, but nothing comes to mind.

“Hi,” you say, wavering with uncertainty at the threshold. Should you invite him in? “What can I do for you? We didn’t have a meeting, did we?” You let yourself chuckle, dry and quick. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit scattered this morning.”

Your boss doesn’t return your chuckle, which immediately raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Something was wrong. Shit--you were working on a major project for a seriously important client. The type of client that could genuinely make or break a company, if you got on their bad side. You press your lips together and make a silent vow to keep it serious.

“I’d like to keep this conversation private.” His tone is low and serious and you invite him in without a second thought, shutting the thick door behind you, trying to ignore the way everyone was shooting glances as it closed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your thoughts race--no wonder everyone was giving you the stink eye. Something was wrong with the client, and you were the one making primary contact with them.

Your boss takes a seat on the leather sofa pushed up against the wall and you immediately set yourself down behind your desk.

He sighs. Short. Frustrated. Annoyed.

“We have to let you go.”

The words don’t register.

“Go where?”

It’s only after you say it that you realize what he said, what it meant, and you feel like a colossal moron in every respect.

“It’s not working out,” he continues, staring at your desk and not at your face. “Since you’ve only been in this position for a month, you don’t quality for senior severance. The best we can do is to pay you what you’ve earned this week.”

Your mouth is so dry that you don’t know if you can talk. Your hand fumbles on your desk for a water bottle you’d left overnight, and that’s when you see it--the photo frame. You keep a photo of yourself and Ransom, cuddled together for a selfie, on your desk. The photo was lying on your desk, frameless, ripped in half--leaving only your vacantly smiling face staring up at you.

Ransom was here.

“Did he put you up to this?” You whisper. “Did Ransom tell you to fire me?”

You know he won’t answer. But you stare at him so fervently that he can’t help but look up at you, and you see it all in his eyes, in the subtle, embarrassed expression of his face.

You can imagine Ransom strolling in--maybe he called first--and settling in for a private audience with your boss in his office. He’d probably pull the chair up to the desk and put his feet on it, just to be an ass. Then he’d bring up… you. And why you had to be let go. Did he give a reason, did he tell your boss why a respected employee who he once secured a position for, who shot up the ranks through intense effort and work, needed to be fired? Did he even need to give a reason?

“This is absolute bullshit,” you say, finally, voice dry and hoarse and bitter. You want to say you’ll be contacting a lawyer. That this won’t stand. But you know--and he knows--that there’s nothing you can do.

Your boss stands, slow, and sighs again. “I’m sorry it had to end this way. Pack up your things as quickly as possible.”

He leaves, and you keep your eyes trained on the ripped photograph to avoid seeing the expressions of the people in the doorway before your boss mercifully shuts the door.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

You don’t have much effort left.

**

Your things consisted of a handful of personal items, little touches you’d brought in to make your office feel more like “you.” A nice picture print. A pastel afghan to drape over the couch. A stapler with a floral design. You have the strong urge to dump them in a trash can, but that’s quickly quelled by the realization that you can’t afford to buy new things, or any things, at this point.

You don’t care if wearing your sunglasses as you power walk to the elevators makes you look stupid. You know someone, somewhere in this office is filming you and probably captioning it with something stupid to post to their Reels or TikTok, and it just makes you leave faster. A few people murmur comments your way, sympathetic in tone, but you’re not really listening. None of their platitudes matter, because Ransom was here, in your workplace, in your office, and he stole the thing you were most proud of from under your feet.

To his credit, when you reach the bottom floor, Anthony practically fumbles out from behind his desk and holds the door open for you. He mouths a “Sorry” and he probably is, but he’s probably used to dealing with rich assholes like Ransom who get what they want, when they want it; even when what they want is to fire a good employee on demand for very personal reasons.

The sun is beating down hard, even for the morning, and the stress of your situation makes you blast the air conditioning as soon as you get in the car. God, the car--how are you going to afford the payments? You wish you could call your mom. You wish your friends--are they even your friends, anymore?--would call you back.

You grab your phone from your purse and stare at the black screen. Maybe you should call the friend who didn’t block you. She would answer, if you called, because she knew you didn’t make calls unless it was serious. She might not rush to your side, but maybe she can offer you a place to stay, a couch, some advice. A kind word would do, right now, with how much anxiety and frustration has been packed into the last 12 hours.

But when you unlock your screen, your gut sinks. Five missed calls. From the storage company. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You tap their number and bring the phone to your ear and pretend that your hands aren’t shaking.

The man who answers is the same one you talked to on the phone before, when setting up your move. “Hello, Move’nSecure Storage Company. This is Steve speaking. How many I help you?”

“Hi Steve!” You hate how chipper you sound. “I actually just got a few missed calls from you guys, I’m sorry, I was in the office and--”

“Oh.” His voice is surprisingly flat, suddenly flat, losing its customer service inflection in an instant before picking it back up. “Yes. We’ve been trying to reach you. For confirmation, the storage locker your purchased is A443, correct?”

You fumble in your purse for the receipt and confirm the little numbers printed neatly on the paper. “Yes, A443. Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not.” You’re grateful that you didn’t have much for breakfast because you know it would be clawing its way back up at this point. “The card you gave us for the storage fee was declined.”

The debit card. You’d paid in cash for the move, and paid for 1 month of storage with the card. The card that was now useless, connected to an empty and closed bank account.

“Is there another card you can give us?”

“No, but...” You say, because no, there is not. There is not a card. There is not a job. There is nothing. “But if you could just hold my stuff, I’ll be there in less than a hour to get it.”

“We don’t hold items,” Steve tells you, a rehearsed banality to his tone. “Your items are currently outside the unit.”

You instinctively want to yell at Steve but, fuck fuck fuck, you’ve been there, behind the counter, dealing with people who couldn’t pay for shit and then had the nerve to get upset with you. “All of it?” You ask, your voice cracking slightly.

“Yes.”

You hang up, and toss your phone onto the passenger seat. The quicker you get there, the less chance that something will get broken or stolen or who knows what else.

The trip to the storage unit seems to take forever, and when you arrive you don’t even take a second to lock your car doors. Instead you sprint inside, startling Steve--looking at his phone, then at you, then at the sign plastered up on the wall leading to the storage locker floors. He points. Row A, separated into 100s, 200s, 300s, and--your number--400s.

You don’t remember if you say ‘thank you,’ because you’re speed-walking down the hallway and following the signs and it isn’t long before you see it: a storage locker with tons of stuff piled up, dumped, outside the now-empty unit where it was supposed to be safe and sound. Waiting for you to get an apartment and pick it back up and rearrange it into your new life, your new “you.”

The problem is immediate: You can’t fit all this in your car. You don’t know anyone who could take the stuff for you. You mind reels for options and the only thing you can come up with is ferrying your belongings to and from the hotel. You can pay for a few more days once you cash your partial paycheck. After that… you don’t know.

Pawn your things? Yeah. That might work. You can get enough cash by pawning most of your stuff, the good stuff. Enough money to get you into a shitty apartment with leaks and a bad landlord. Then you can a job that barely pays rent and you’ll be right back where you started, before you met Ransom. Before you thought leaking ceilings and $20 paychecks after taxes were a thing of the past.

You ignore the humiliation that makes your stomach curl as you take your things out to the car, handful by handful. Steve doesn’t bother holding the door open for you. You mention that you’re going to be back on your way out, and he offers a non-committal hum.

At least when you get to the hotel, the owner sees you fumbling with boxes and offers to help you out. It takes less time with two hands to get everything in the room, and once it’s locked up you head back out to the storage units.

You keep your sunglasses on for the second trip into the storage unit, even though you don’t know Steve or care what he thinks. He doesn’t look up when you walk in and it’s just as well, since you’re only heading back to the A-400s and don’t need his non-existent help.

But the sight that greets you when you round the corner to your unpaid-for storage locker makes your blood run cold.

Your stuff is gone. All of it.

You rush back to the desk, where Steve does look up, startled by your urgency.

“My stuff,” you spit out, “My stuff is gone! Someone took it!”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry.” He points to a sign behind him: “We are not responsible for the loss of items inside or outside storage lockers.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” You can’t the anger in your voice this time. “You just watched someone walk off with my stuff and didn’t say anything?”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “If it was that important, you shouldn’t have left it here. Or you should have given us another card.”

You feel like throwing your hands up but you just clench your fist and storm out the door, huffing as you reach your car. The anger melts into the sense of loss, the realization that you only have a few meager items that you’d managed to collect; you picked the lightest stuff, first. And in retrospect it was things that didn’t matter much at all. Clothes. Hair supplies. Makeup. You should have grabbed the box with your USB sticks, your memory cards, your photo albums; your personal mementos and sentimental shit. Instead you grabbed the box with your shampoo.

At least the clothes might get something in a pawnshop. The makeup, too, on Facebook or Depop or Instagram. But it wouldn’t be enough to put you up in an apartment. You’ll have to live in your car. Until they repossess it for lack of payment.

You don’t have your bank account, your credit cards, your job, a place to stay, or your personal possessions. And soon, you won’t have your car.

You have no friends. No boyfriend. No family.

All you have $20 left in your wallet and well, fuck it. You grab some McDonalds on the way home because, fuck it, and eat all the fries before you make it to the motel. The thought of eating in your dirty room makes your stomach turn and you decide to eat everything else you bought, the burger and the shake and the chicken nuggets too, tossing the wrappers on the floor. It feels like deja vu--getting cheap fast food to make you feel full, tossing trash on the floor of the passenger seat, all bringing back the way you used to when you’d grab something from the dollar menu on your way to work at the call center.

You almost wish you could stay at this hotel, brown water and all. The owner is decently nice. He smiles at you when you enter and doesn’t bring up that you didn’t come back with more boxes, like you said you would.  

You’re surprised at how grateful you feel for the dingy hotel room now that you won’t be able to stay here more than another day. Now that the alternative is sleeping in your car, then sleeping on the street, if you were lucky.

Your phone feels heavy when you set it on the table and stare at the home screen. Another photo of you and Ransom stares back up at you. You haven’t had time to change it up yet. He’s grinning. You’re smiling. It’s a good photo. You try to place it in your memory, try to remember what beach that was, but your trips blur together and you can’t.

Should you call him? If it was just the cards, just him being petty over credit and finances, it was one thing. You could try to placate him with returning gifts, just asking him to give you what you put in from your own paychecks. But making you lose your job? It was too far, too fucking far. And there was no going back from that. Fuck, someone was probably moving into your office as you sat in this dimly lit room mourning the loss of your entire life.

For a brief, very fleeting moment, you consider calling Harlan. You weren’t exceptionally close, but he seemed to like you well enough. He’d even asked you once, puling you aside at a tension-filled family party, if Ransom treated you right, told you to tell him if he ever got to be too much. Harlan felt like Ransom’s keeper--in more ways than one. You could never tell Harlan about the shouts or the occasional bruises from when Ransom really, really lost his temper--it’s not like you could prove them, anyway, as Ransom made sure to keep you away from his family when he lost control like that. No need for excuses about running into doors when he made sure you looked your best at family functions.

But the thought of breaking the uneasy stasis that Ransom had with the most significant member of his family made you want to vomit. There would be no coming back from that, and you knew better than to cross any line involving the great Harlan Thrombey.

You could call your friend--ex-friend? The one who didn’t block you or forget your number. You should. No, you will. Because what else do you have to lose.

But before you can bring up her number, you get a text--Ransom. It’s a photo and your curiosity gets the better of you as you click the notification.

“What the fuck?”

He’s sent you a photo of his car, trunk open. It’s filled with boxes, odds-and-ends. It’s filled with your stuff.

You text him: What??

He texts back: Hey. I’m in front of the hotel. Come out? Bring your suitcase. :P

It’s your stuff. It’s his car. He’s here. All reason is thrown aside as you grab your suitcase and purse and rush down the hallway, ignoring the owner’s confused response from behind his desk as you push open the front doors and look around the parking lot.

His car is parked to the side, not in front of the hotel’s glass double doors. He’s standing outside his car, leaning against it. He takes off his sunglasses and tucks them in his pocket when he sees you approaching, face confused and fuming all at once.

“What the fuck, Ransom, what the fuck is your problem--”

“Hey, hey,” he says, hands up in defense, “You’re not even going to thank me for picking up your stuff?”

You feel suddenly, impossibly rooted to the spot.

“What do you--what? You took my stuff?”

He shrugs. “C’mon, did you really think I’d just leave your stuff in some shitty storage unit? Someone would’ve taken it if I didn’t get there first.”

You swallow. “Why?” You ask, because Ransom never does anything for no reason. Or so you’ve learned.

His expression loses a bit of its cocky casualness. He tilts his head a bit, looking at you as if you’ve asked a particularly offensive question.

“Why do you think?”

To lord it over you? To make you think your stuff was gone and make you worried, sick, crazy?

“I don’t know,” is what you settle for in the end. “I really, really don’t. You--” You lick your lips, and try to calm down, calm the pitter-patter of your heart, and think before you speak. “You’ve done some pretty messed up stuff today. My job?” The last question comes out soft and pained, and you know your eyes are starting to tear up.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and placating and it makes your stomach flip as he approaches you, standing there on the sidewalk with your purse and suitcase. “Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry on me.”

You know this Ransom. The Ransom that holds you and pets your hair and offers to get Thai food delivered even though he doesn’t like it just to make you happy.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and you jerk it away. “Don’t.” That Ransom is a fantasy. Or an incomplete version, the version that pretends he doesn’t lie and cheat and hurt you in more ways than one. “Don’t you fucking dare, especially not after what you pulled today. My job? My job, Ransom? You’re a--a fucking asshole.”

He puts his hands up again, defensive, and takes a step back. But he doesn’t return to his car, and stays just a few steps in front of you.

“Look. Call me an asshole. Sure, fine, I can admit that. But do you know what else I am?”

He waits a beat, waits for you to look at him, before he continues. “I’m a realist. I like facts. And the fact is? You aren’t much without me. No job, no credit cards, no bank account. Without me, you’re just some broke chick scrambling to get an apartment in the shittiest part of town, working a dead-end job that don’t pay shit. With me though…. “

He leaves the words unfinished, but you know what he means. Flashes of your life, cocktails and smart business outfits and dinners at restaurants you didn’t even dream about attending before you met him. Phone calls with shakers in the industry and social media requests from people you’d never dream you’d meet. Connections that meant something, a career path, dinner parties with people who could offer tangible benefits to your career and your life.

It wasn’t that he spoiled you. He wasn’t a sugar daddy. You weren’t getting gifts for blowjobs. It was that his presence in your life boosted you, socially, financially, mentally, physically, in every which way possible.

His presence got you a job that you loved, which meant you weren’t burnt out when you came home, which meant that you had the time and energy to spend hours catching up on books or redecorating the house or watching movies. Good money meant you could order in whenever you felt like it, meant you didn’t have to worry if you burned dinner because you could just buy new steaks or order-in or go out, last minute, and still get a great table. It meant you had all the clothes you wanted, stylish and personally tailored; it meant you had easy access to a gym and exercise equipment and an indoor pool to keep you healthy. It meant you had a life that provided comfort in every way possible.

Being with Ransom Drysdale was like… like a little shot of privilege directly into your arm.

Privilege that he took away just as easily as he gave it. Just as easily as you took it. Just as easily as you took it and eagerly ignored the dark side underneath. Or maybe you didn’t ignore it. Maybe you liked it, maybe it reminded you of who you were underneath the designer clothes and expensive dinners.

Maybe you wanted to fix him, like he fixed you? He wasn’t totally bad, after all, he did make sure no one took your belongings. Maybe it was your presence that gave him the idea for that touch of sympathy, maybe with Ransom change was slow and muddled, not picture-perfect sweeping changes like the kind in movies.

“So?” Ransom’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Are you going to come home or,” he waves his hands around dismissively, at the hotel, at you.

You feel very, very less-than right now. You look awful, your hair mussy and your makeup mostly melted off with sweat and sun. You probably smell more than you normally do, thanks to the lack of a shower. Your muscles, sore from the motel bed, ache for the large spa bathtub that Ransom had installed in the master bathroom just for you, stocked with bubbles and salts and overpriced bath bombs that were $10 a pop.

But your muscles had hurt before, when he pushed you against the dresser.

You have nothing, and no one. Except Ransom. Ransom who didn’t judge you when you instinctively saved plastic bottles and boxes, but merely nudged you towards recycling and took you out to splurge on a reusable water bottle and proper storage containers the next day. Ransom who asked you what sort of job you wanted, really wanted, and made it happen for you. Ransom who shrugged and wiped away your credit card debt without making you feel like shit.

Ransom who didn’t let you leave the house if your wrists were sporting fingerprint shaped bruises. Ransom who argued with you about talking to men, even men at work. Ransom who held you tight at night and said he never wanted to let you go, and wouldn’t you just make a fine-ass addition his crazy family. Ransom who took care of you, now that you had no one else.

“What do you want me to do?” The words feel slow, sluggish. Like they wanted to stick to the roof of your mouth and it took everything in you to get them out.

His voice turns low and serious as he stares at you with an characteristic expression. “Well, the first thing is to get down on your knees…”

You feel your eyes practically bugging out.

“What the fuck, Ransom?”

He laughs. He always did have a nice laugh.

“I’m just messing with you, Jesus. Take a chi-I-il pill. Just grab your purse and come sit your sweet ass in the front seat. Let’s go get some burgers, I’m starving.”

Your legs feel like jelly when you take that first step, and the sound of your roller suitcase as you pull it along seems louder than ever. Ransom pops the truck and you just manage to fit it inside with the handle closed, jamming it in between some boxes at an odd angle. The handle of the passenger side is familiar, warm from the sun.

You open the door and practically shove yourself into the seat, closing the door as fast as possible. You can’t do more than glance at him as humiliation and anxiety and just the smallest bit of relief washes over you. It’s been less than 24 hours since you broke up, and here you are--again.

He’s staring at you quietly, his expression difficult to place. He looks relieved. He looks annoyed. He looks like he wants to kiss you. He looks like he wants to slap you. Maybe he wants to do it all at once and can’t decide which to pick.

Instead, he puts his hand on your thigh. Gives it a squeeze. Hard, bordering on painful.  He’s staring straight ahead, at the worn-out sign on the hotel’s front door, one hand gripping the flesh of your thigh. He looks good in profile. “Don’t ever try to pull something like that again. I mean it. I really mean it.”

You turn, glance out the window, familiar tears at the edge of your eyes.

“I won’t,” you whisper, dreaming of the tub and bubbles and how good a warm soak will feel on your back, on your thighs, on your soul.

“Good girl,” he says, patting your thigh firmly. He plucks his sunglasses out of pocket and puts them on in a smooth motion. The car starts smoothly, its fine-tuned and expensive engine a familiar sound, and your hands feel robotic as you pull the seatbelt over your chest and click it tight.

“Let’s get dinner and get home. You have some unpacking to do.”

[lwt28brave]

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.