#all this to say please don’t send shit like this without evidence or proof or anything

[peachypizzicato]

Hey just so you know, comrade shrimp is kind of a controversial person in other fandoms. Thought I would let you know before you get too chummy with them.

anon i really truly don’t know how to break this to you but i’ve known shrimp for like ten years and to be completely frank i don’t really care about whatever fandom drama people are stirring up about them. please don’t disparage my friends to me like this, especially without any explanation or proof

[femmefaggot]

what a disgusting and immature response. do you actually have concrete evidence of him being contacted by your stalker? do you have concrete evidence that that was the reason he blocked you? you don’t, but you keep alluding to that being the situation even though you admitted that you don’t actually know if it was because of your stalker. then you were threatening to send him a vile message that got sent to you and threatening to @ him and harass him over why he blocked you. you keep posting about how you sent money to him as if you’re trying to paint him as some manipulative thief who ran off with your money. you put your own personal drama with him on blast and told people to block him (which lessens the amount of exposure he would get if he needed donations again; great job, you’re making it harder for a black person to raise money for necessities/emergencies while your white ass is financially comfortable enough to send money to other people). people do not owe you anything. you are not owed an explanation for why you got blocked. you already said the money isn’t that big of a deal. move the fuck on and stop threatening to harass, twist people’s perception of, and try to socially isolate and endanger a black user because you’re mad you got blocked. you could not possibly be this stupid and ignorant.

can you break your responses up next time if you want me to actually respond. genuinely. cant read this chunk. if I ignore shit its bc we are blurred. but okay god. since you want to keep at it too

long post incoming bc you wanted to send so much in one ask and clearly want to be absolved

but I need you to give concrete evidence that ive been a bigot

we know what our stalker sounds like. you don't have to believe me but I know that he's been contacted by them and baselessly believed accusations of us being racist*

*which again. if they aren't baseless I really want to know.

but believing something an anon sends you without proof on this website seems so weird atp.

i didn't threaten anything. you misread my posts. let me be clearer

he is being messaged by someone who has sent us the**

(in our words, but to quote you too to make it perfectly transparent bc you seem to have trouble reading, as do we. no judgement)

**"vile messages", the post was made to say that we could show how awful this stalker has been to us. the fact that he is listening to them is worrying

(not for us. I don't believe this person could do worse than they have. i am genuinely so genuinely worried about nao. and I am not a sincere person but I mean this. please dm me if you need.

worried that if they become friends and he somehow does something "wrong" theyll behave similarly toward him)

is the money a big deal? no. not to us personally. luckily.

how many times do i have to say that I dont think he's evil. im not blaming him for intentionally doing anything.

but that on principle abandoning someone w no word in general but esp w these circumstances is. odd? uncalled for. etc

we are in a very uniquely fortunate position to be able to donate to people. and have the urge to show affection through purchases.

and he was a part of that!

will not deny that 95% of the money given was offered, and even then the other 5% was likely going to be given anyway.

the only thing he ever sort of asked for was a game, and we were considering buying that for him anyway

i need to reiterate the actual money isn't the point at all, but it is the principle of us doing that and getting dropped with zero communication

but is it rude at best that after genuinely giving someone that, with no expectations, we were not given a chance to talk before he decided to make assumptions (during a heavily blurry and hectic time) about us

(I've said before and I'll say again, because you're conveniently ignoring it

if he needed I would give him more money. the fact that he's been a dick to me doesnt negate his humanity or need to live.

you need to absorb that. he could come to me now asking for money and id give it. so could anyone.)

him being black does not negate the fact that hes being shitty to us, but again use your own judgement and dm if you want

heres his cshapp, this is genuine. hes still human and can use dns, but until i get paid esp i cant justify spending more money

again, if he ever needs I'll send more money. and I'm not in the business of making this a callout, honestly this ask is 10x longer than I wanted but you def want the attention

anyway yeah heres his c$ w the proof of money we (voluntarily again, just sucks to be blocked after this) sent to him

but fr if he makes a dn post dnt let this stop you

and if ur reading this n ever need money or ever wanna fact check the racism allegations we will be here. nothing to hide

despite the vitriol of this post fr if he makes a dn post do contribute and again always send me ur dn posts

not in the business of letting personal shit get in the way of mutual aid

again c$ is $moonvampyre he deserves to live as a person no matter whats going on

I mean this genuinely not as a taunt or a gotcha.

nobody deserves to suffer bc of decisions or lack of able to make decisions or personality or anything.

justice and housing and livable wage for all god fucking bless

[joe-moi]

https://www.tumblr.com/joe-moi/738262197012217856/honestly-every-gossip-blog-that-isnt-this-one-all

I remember which one it was, but I dont really wanna say. I dont wanna start any shit but they also claimed they had other evidence of things like oystergate and proof wes and molly broke up (besides hinge) that they couldn’t post and it just got tiring. 

😬 yes I mean I think one or two times total I’ve had somebody send me some thing that they said, please don’t post, and I usually hint at it hard enough so that you guys can figure it out without me having to post it. I worry a little bit about accounts that claim to have all of this information and then never tell you what it is or even hint at it. It makes it seem fake.

[seijorhi]

Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy​ and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut. 

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl. 

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day. 

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.” 

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way. 

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key. 

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number. 

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too… 

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through. 

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you. 

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze. 

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that. 

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question. 

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it. 

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin. 

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding. 

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop. 

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty. 

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is. 

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath. 

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning. 

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan. 

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out. 

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch. 

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to. 

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference? 

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream. 

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts. 

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection. 

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed. 

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers. 

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him. 

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga >:) pt. 3

more and more paragraphs ahead.  BE PREPARED!

i’m also writing this at 3 am so please bear with the horrendous grammar and punctuation.

chapter 63

i know he’s probably like this with everyone but i love how excited he is bragging about his students to her.  he’s like a child telling his mother about an amazing adventure he had with his friends, making sure he mentions every detail.  in the anime, their conversation lasted for 3:41 :3 backwards 341 is 143 which means i love you.  

1 letter = i

4 letters = love

3 letters = you

chapter 63

i love her fit!  i also like how both of them like to wear baggy clothing that accentuates their collarbones `w` it’s like they’re matching in a way.  even if she did tell him to cut the crap, she still let him run his mouth to his content LOL i feel like if he didn’t compliment himself at the end, she would have said something different.  UGH HE LOOKS SO HAPPY CALLING HER

 ah, let me translate the conversation just in case anyone needs it.

utahime: you wanted to talk about the investigation, right?

gojo: well, got any idea who?

utahime: i have no idea.  no one seems suspicious.  what do we do now?  should we ask the students for help?

gojo: yeah, that’s fine.  i’m busy so asking the kids would be okay.  keep looking.  i’m counting on you.

I THINK THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE TRYING TO SAY.

OR it could mean that she’s asking if they should start investigating the students.  it would make sense either way because gojo says in the next panel that he doesn’t want to assume that the mole is a student, and in chapter 79, gojo sends the trio to utahime to help her.  

chapter 63

these two love their students to death.  neither of them wanted to assume that the mole was a student.  in chapter 79, when utahime is talking to the trio about the mole, nobara points out to the group that the traitor must be from kyoto because utahime is the one who’s reaching out to the tokyo side.  utahime has a dismal look on her face, almost like she’s saying, “i didn’t want it to turn out this way -- for this to be true.”  after mechamaru says his farewells to miwa on the train, mai tries to talk about what he did to which utahime says, “it doesn’t matter, he’s dead, after all,” with a similar sunken expression.  i just love how her care for the students is one of the biggest aspects of her personality that’s been showcased so far.  it’s also cool how it ties together with gojo’s belief that no child’s youth should be taken away.  i truly think these two have the capacity to understand each other to a deep level, down to the core.  seeing as utahime is also a teacher, it’s safe to assume that she also wants to raise the next generation of sorcerers to be strong.  utahime and gojo’s similarities and contrasting elements are so interwined, i really wonder if it’s intentional.  like am i looking too much into this?  are utahime and gojo really meant to be this connected?  think about it.  similar motivations, care of the kids, contrasting palettes, the bickering, long history.  IT’S JUST TOO MUCH. 

also can we mention how their phone calls and meetings must be heavily planned out?  this means they’ve talked and interacted with each other A LOT behind the scenes.  she doesn’t answer his call with “what do you want?  don’t bother me on my day off.”  she knows exactly why he’s calling her and they even speak in code.  she probably meets up with him and tells him to call her on a specific day and at a specific time.  they must know each other’s schedules very well in order to execute this investigation in complete secrecy.  when he says, “we can never be too sure who is listening in around utahime” it implies that they find calling a risk, so in order to guarantee that there is no one around, they have to meet up in person.  see where i’m getting at?  they talk A LOTTT and most likely are aware of each other’s daily lives.  

the fact that gojo is her main source of stress when he’s literally a 3 hour train ride away from her is hilarious LMAOOOO.  you know what that means, right?  he must call and text her constantly about random things to annoy her.  

chapter 65

ah yes, my favorite moment by far.  look at that smile on his face.  

chapter 65

he loves saying her name.  he probably rushed over with the sole purpose of doing something like this to her LMAOOOO like i mean, mei was in there with her so technically they both needed to be helped but judging from his words and expression, he only wanted to help utahime.  notice how mei’s not there in the debris.  could she possibly have suspected gojo’s presence or an outside force?  or was she fast enough to avoid being in the debris?  either way, her lack of presence in this scene helps highlight the fact that this is a special interaction between utahime and gojo.  he refers to her in a very familiar sense.  the most formal way to address someone is by their last name followed by the honorific, -san.  in gojo’s case, he should be calling her iori-san if they weren’t acquainted.  he doesn’t even bother to call her utahime-senpai.  granted, gojo is not the most respectful and socially competent person out there because geto points this out to him.  he isn’t even aware that she finds him annoying because he views her bad attitude toward him as her just playing along with him.  he probably thinks she’s flirting back LOLOL

since he asks her “you cryin?” that definitely means that gojo witnessed her crying on one occasion or maybe multiple.  who knows, the old utahime could have been a very emotional person.  while this is happening, mei is close to gojo, she then asks him if he would console her if she were to cry in a flirtatious manner.  gojo dismisses her attempt at flirting with him and says she won’t cry because she’s strong.  now normally, you’re supposed to face the person you’re talking to, GOJO.  he KEEPS his eyes on her even when more people come to join the conversation.  

now, we can all agree that geto, mei, and shoko are better at picking up social cues than gojo.  they probably knew the vibe of the conversation and decided to play along with gojo’s antics.  

chapter 65

WE were worried about you.

pay attention to the order of the characters that show up.  gojo makes his appearance first, then geto, followed by shoko.  based on utahime’s reaction to seeing shoko, it’s evident that these two share a close bond.  shouldn’t shoko be the one to arrive on the scene first?  she’s the closest to utahime and would therefore be more concerned about her condition, right?  i know shoko’s technique doesn’t really allow her to do anything other than treat the wounds of others, but if you heard your friend was missing, you would definitely rush to the scene.  

look at geto’s reaction when mei says, “you’re the one who’s picking on her, geto.  you don’t even know it.”  i think it’s mei who’s saying this because gojo calls geto “suguru”.  but anyway, mei is aware that they’re picking on her.  i don’t think she’s the type to legitimately bully someone for their strength.  her reaction to all of this is very playful and her “heh heh heh” is proof of that.  when geto shows up and swallows the curse before it gets to utahime, he says, “satoru.  it’s not nice to pick on the weak.”  by saying this, he pisses utahime off because he too, is joining in on gojo’s joke.  i believe he’s unaware that he’s making fun of utahime because his reaction is “gah!” with a sweatdrop.  he probably thought gojo was making fun of weak people in general.  

geto’s usually a gentleman seeing as it is canon that he is more popular with girls than gojo.  BUT WHO KNOWS...you gotta be a specific type of person to be best friends with gojo.  maybe he ain’t shit too...  okay, my point is that everyone is just playing along.  when shoko shows up, utahime is relieved to see her because shoko doesn’t tease her like this.  since utahime tells shoko to not become like those two, this implies that geto teases her as well (probably not as much as gojo).  we all know geto is really big on looking out for the weak so he probably wouldn’t have insulted her for real.  

verdict: utahime being weak is just a joke.  i’ve mentioned this so many times, sorry if it’s getting annoying and repetitive hehehehehe...

chapter 65

these three aren’t irresponsible.  geto and gojo are a troublesome duo for sure, but they’re dependable.  seems unlike them to forget something so simple and essential to pretty much every mission.   

chapter 65

here’s my headcanon.  they were hanging outside or in the car when their assistant manager got a call.  the assistant was informed that two days have elapsed since mei and utahime went on their mission (or last contacted someone).  

gojo: that’s weird.  mei’s with her so they should have finished exorcising the spirit sooner.

geto: you think something happened to them?  maybe it’s a strong special grade.

gojo: utahime probably dragged mei down with her.  poor mei-san~  

gojo gets up 

geto: where are you going?  

gojo: going to save utahime!  it’s fine i’ll put up a curtain!

manager: gojo wait!!!!!!!!!!!

geto sighs

shoko: that idiot’s always running off without us.

they pin the blame on gojo for saying that he’ll put up a curtain and leaving the assistant manager behind.  you know what this means?  he ran and the manager couldn’t catch up HEHE... why the rush, gojo?  were you actually concerned about her?  

tbh i don’t see gojo ever running to something unless it’s urgent.  the fact that he ran to save her says a lot.  

----

let me know if you have any thoughts or questions!  i forgot to add this but gojo had a more serious expression when he was explaining how they must’ve been trapped in a barrier that messes with time.  he then states, “we thought it was weird even though you’re here, mei.”  i know he was probably worried sick because if mei couldn’t be contacted then that means something must’ve happened to utahime too.  okay that’s it for now.  i’ll be bringing up this little detail i’ve noticed about utahime in the manga next :3

[inspiteallthedanger]

(I’m the more sure of Paul’s affection for John anon (sorry idek how to word that lol)) I feel like most of my conviction comes from the fact that throughout their relationship Paul is consistently proactive in seeking John out and keeping him in his life. Here are my points:

- Sure they drifted a part a bit after they stopped touring and I feel like people use the fact that Paul didn’t move out to the suburbs as proof that he didn’t care about John like George and Ringo did/he wasn’t as close to him as the other two were but he was still making the drive out there to see John.

- Paul’s dread of losing John is pretty evident in Get Back and the only reason their relationship ended was because John wanted it to. More than just the band ending and feeling lost without it, he seems afraid of John leaving him in particular and the way he talks about the whole divorce period is in a way that makes himself seem pretty passive and as if he is the divorcee who didn’t want the marriage to end and maybe it’s him trying to deflect any blame for the breakup but I’m just sharing my interpretation of his words.

- Depending on how much of a tinhat you are, Paul wrote a lot of songs about John. Enough said? Probably not but I would be here for days looking like a crazy person if I dove into every example I could think of.

- Paul kept making the effort to call and see John during the 70s even when he was actively being turned down (that persistent fool).

Anyway sorry I don’t have quotes and more specific examples but my recall memory is shit and it’s also late but I hope I was able to give you enough reasons to quell your spiraling! I’ve been reading John bios and I really could use your talking points on John’s affection/care for Paul right about now…

Thanks my love. These are lovely examples of Paul wanting John in his life and obviously his entire vibe since his death backs this up. I even wrote a similar post that outlined Paul's commitment to John. I guess I'm with John in that I feel the perceived rejections and emotional unavailability more than the grand gestures. But, that's the awful tragedy of them: they were both deeply committed and loved each other, but that's actually not always enough to make it work.

Oh no, please don't rely on John bios for that. It's genuinely fascinating to me how they frame their research to decide that John spent all this time on a man he actively disliked. Truly baffling.

I guess there's a lot things but:

The way John let Paul stand right up next to him on stage from pretty much the start of him joining John's band

Paul was the one that was allowed around him when he was grieving his mum (yes, there's some evidence that it's because Paul went but clearly John's not sending him away)

John spending all that money on taking Paul to Paris (and not his girlfriend)

John letting Paul help with his writing (and proudly asking him to write the forward) + them writing a play together (and a musical?)

Obviously the strange story of him freaking out on that girl's dress/the wardrobe while she was with Paul

His active dislike of all Paul's girlfriends/wives (other than Maggie for unknown reasons)

The fact that people said that Paul would use John as his attack dog if he didn't like people

Stories like them demanding quiet while they listened to Pet Sounds and whispering together (Indeed them not letting their girlfriends talk if they were discussing music)

The LSD story

Alice Cooper saying John would hit anyone that said anything bad about Paul/John telling that journalist off for calling Paul 'Paulie' (despite us knowing that John did that all the time)

John's apparent continued obsession with Paul in e.g. his diaries, his random conversations. Or the fact he thought Silly Love Songs was about him

The 'For Paul' demos given to Paul after John's death

All of his songs that were about Paul

John thinking that Paul and he were going to write the movie soundtrack when Paul had already decided to do it without him

John's prompting Paul to say that they'd agreed to work together after the Beatles had split

The 'You okay?' interview

John saying he needed the Beatles to feel real / wanting to move to a Greek island with them all

The way John reacted to the break up like he was a jilted lover and somehow it all became Paul's fault

Combined with all his very strange interviews where he compared Yoko and Paul and said that if only he'd been able to have emotional and physical intimacy with his male partners 'that might have solved it'

People said that John was often the one to reach out after arguments to patch things up

Apple employees apparently referring to Paul as 'John's Princess'

Hope that helps. We should do this every few weeks, just to keep the equilibrium.

[kittydemon9000]

Alright so I know Literally Nobody asked for this but the idea of leaguers having differnt armor types, speeds, and strengths is so fascinating to me so here’s an entire post about my headcanons about it, staring the Main 7 since they’re the ones we see most and have the most evidence for. 

Also, please keep in mind that this is completely made based on memory alone and it’s been a bit since I last saw the show. If I missed something or remembered something wrong feel free to correct me or add your own thoughts.

Also also, I made a chart (the chart is based on the strongest for the leaguer, not out of all of them, ex: Top Joy’s strongest is different from GZ’s strongest)

First off, the leader of Silver Castle himself, Magnum Ace, a Baseball Leaguer. Right off the bat(hah puns) I immediately knew his arms would be the strongest points. He seems to have been created with him being a pitcher in mind and his 44 Sonic has clearly been shown to posses a lot of power which he would need the strength to handle. There’s also how he was shown to be a decent hitter in Gold Arm’s flashback, sending every ball into the outfield. As for his weakest points, they were also pretty easy. The joints are a bit of a constant with all of the leaguers I showed, but the fins are because they seem to be rather thin and probably can’t hold up very well under pressure. There’s also the shoulder joints, which I wasn’t able to put on the diagram, since as shown during the end of the series, if Magnum repeatedly pitches his 44 Sonic without rest the stress on his shoulders start to cause them to break down, to the point where he was forced to sit out for the next few days for repairs. Speed wise Magnum is nothing special and in my eyes pretty average amongst the team.

Next up, we have Mach Windy, a Soccer Leaguer. Similar to Magnum, I knew almost immediately his strongest point would be his legs since, y’know, soccer. Everything(physical) we see coming from Windy is almost always centered around his leg strength and speed. This is outright said when Silver Castle is resting after some baseball training and Magnum tells Windy(I shit you not) “We believe in your leg.” There’s also his Mach Spin which depends entirely on his ability to kick to ball at an extremely high speed. There’s also a scene when trying to help Gold Foot during the Forced Retirement Arc where his kicks a ball of solid rock without any issues. The scene also brings me to why his head is a strong point. Heading is also something Windy has been shown to be able to do, and referencing the Forced Retirement Arc again where he head butts the aforementioned ball of rock. For speed, as mentioned before, when it comes to running Windy seems to be the fastest amongst Silver Castle. The weakness I feel is pretty self explanatory since soccer doesn’t really require use of your arms unless you’re a goalie. There’s also how in the Jet Setter episode Bull sees Windy loose an arm wrestle almost immediatly with Ryuuken, but that might just be since Ryuuken is ridiculously powerful. As for durability, he seems to be not very strong, instead having lighter armor for more speed.

Speaking of Ryuuken, let’s talk about the Karate Leaguer. As you can see, his strongest part is his armor, aka almost all of him. As a karate leaguer, Ryuuken was probably created with the intent of being able to take a lot of hits. There’s also the running joke of a member of another team attacking him with all their power and him not budging and saying something along the lines of “I feel nothing.” Strength wise, we get a taste of his crazy power is during his first spotlight episode where he was practicing kicking with Windy, to which he accidentally broke the stone wall surrounding the field. He then unlocks more of his power when rescuing Ruri from the factory, but we don’t see his real power until the Forced Retirment arc. There we got to see when going to rescue Magnum, Windy, and the Gold Bros how he opened a literal chasm into the ground with a single punch, though I can’t remember if it was rock, metal, or both, but that’s still pretty impressive, and that was before he unlocked his Heart Kit in the Death Football Arc which only increased his power. And then during the OVA when the Fighter Brothers try to fight Windy’s new team and they use their pitch, a pitch that nobody had been able to hit before, Ryuuken straight up punches it with seemingly no backlash and getting a home run all because they made him mad.….maybe it’s a good thing Ryuuken is so innocent and calm. Speed wise, Ryuuken seems to be on the slower side of the team, however I do think Ryuuken(alongside Juurouta) would have the best reflexes. This one is completely headcanon and I don’t have much proof, it just makes sense to me.

Next up, we have Bull Armor, a Football Leaguer. His armor and helmet are easily his strongest parts, for mostly obvious reasons. Multiple times throughout the series he is seen tanking blows that would normally knock another leaguer to the ground, most notably when he’s Silver Castle’s goalkeeper in soccer and catcher in baseball. However, his durability seems to be different from Ryuuken’s since he is still moved by the attacks but can bounce back from more. His durability seems to be pretty tied to his strength too since he is one of the only leaguers who has been shown to catch Magnum’s 44 Sonic. There’s also how when he was first introduced he stopped and lifted a truck much larger than himself with relative ease in order to stop it from hitting a young boy. His speed however is admittedly a bit harder to figure out. He seems to be much larger and heavier, however as shown when he lost control in his past he still has the ability to charge down opponents at a speed in which they can’t properly evade, though it’s up for debate whether they were trying to properly evade or trying to reason with him.

Juurouta, a Kendo Leaguer, is next. His durability is more basic compared to the others, mostly focusing around his Armor Armor(no that was not a typo). Said Armor Armor also seems to be protecting the joints which may or may not be intentional, but I’m going with it. His fins share the same logic with Magnum, as do his joints with everyone else. His strength mostly seems to be localized in his arms, which makes sense since he is a kendo leaguer. His strength was first shown in comparison to the others when he was the first person to hit Gold Arm’s Genocide Screw with a hit(discounting Bull since he technically kicked it). There’s also how in the Arctic he was able to cut down the  blizzard machine, however that spent all his energy. Speed wise I think he’s in a similar i boat to Ryuuken: slow overall, but incredible reflexes.

Now, Top Joy, a Basketball Leaguer, was a fun one to do for no reason more than I like the character. Strength wise, nothing very impressive, he show much. Durability though….it’s not the best. The only points that seemed to be able to hold up were his arms(sort of) and feet, and they’re less based on actual proof and more on logical thinking but I digress. Hand and arms because he’ll need to be able to catch balls thrown his way, but they’re still relatively weak compared to other members of Silver Castle. I highlighted his feet because they would probably be needed to make they don’t break once Top Joy lands after jumping high. If they were weak the repeated slamming into the ground would cause them to break and then Top Joy(and any other basketball leaguer) would be relatively stuck. But where I think Top Joy shines is his speed and maneuverability. As he has demonstrated many times throughout baseball and soccer games alike, his spring legs can be used in a variety of situations, from avoiding attacking players to catching balls that would normally be too far out of reach. And there’s also the possibility of using the force from the spring to propel himself faster when running, thought it’s unclear if he does this already. However, they are not without weakness. As shown in the episode with Gebara, they are easily damaged when seemingly a single coil is damaged and prevents him from walking without assistance from his teammates. There’s also his recording equipment and speakers which, while functional, seem like they would also be damaged rather easily since as someone who has worked with recording/video equipment, I am all too aware of how fragile it can be. Also another note, Top Joy also seems to have an incredibly high pain tolerance. When the members of Section X give him a warning shock with the shock circuit, he pleads with them and says how he “doesn’t like punishment,” implying this has happened before. There’s also his questionable relationship with his past team and much later in the Death Football Arc when he flat out says “I’m used to pain,” which in concerning to say the least.

And finally, last but most certainly not least, we have GZ, a Hockey Leaguer. Similar to Ryuuken, GZ has been shown to be incredibly powerful and being able to take a lot. There are three times where his power is shown. First is barely a day after he joins their team when he defends his teammates from attacks that would normally knock them off their feet(sans Ryuuken). The second time is when he’s babysitting the kids and survives an avalanche that took out another group of hockey(?) leaguers with barely a scratch. And then in the OVA where he’s able to deflect almost all of Garret’s dive bomb attacks without took much trouble. This is undoubtedly a combination of some hockey leaguers being incredibly defensive(like Thunderbolt) and his reformatting which led him to be a mercenary. We don’t seem too much from GZ in terms of strength, so I’m going to say he’s just a little weaker than Magnum. Speed though, that one was a bit hard to figure out. Main because of his boosters. His boosters give him an enormous speed boost, fast enough to get ahead of Garret who was literally flying and dive bombing, and on the ice without as much friction it only increases his speed. However, the few times we see him running, he seems to be slower than the other Silver Castle members, likely because of his weight and how he was meant for ice, not land. 

TL:DR, From most to least

Durability: GZ, Ryuuken, Bull Armor, Juurouta, Magnum, Windy, Top Joy

Strength: Ryuuken, Bull Armor, Juurouta, Magnum, GZ, Top Joy, Windy

Speed: GZ(with boosters/on ice), Windy, Top Joy, Magnum, Bull Armor, Ryuuken, Juurouta, GZ(running), but Juurouta and Ryuuken have the best reflexes

[fanmoose12]

ansgty hc inspired by your recent post where hange and levi were sending each other letters: let's say that levi lived until the end of the finale and as he finished helping armin settle in the commander's office, an eccentric-looking box catches his attention. it turns out to be full of hange's old journals she kept as a trainee until she became a commander. some of these write-ups would be yeaaars old. research notes, grocery lists (that had stuff he liked written down, like his favorite brand of black tea and cleaning supplies 🥺) aaaand of course, for a dash of extra pain -- letters she never gave to him (she probably wrote a scratched-out love confession somewhere). imagine a post-war recovering levi clutching hange's journals and reading her entries way baaaack before and during the no regrets ova timeline until the marley vs paradis arc TIME TO SOB :((((((

"Captain, you don't have to do this," Armin spoke softly. "I can clear it all myself."

"No," Levi harshly refused. "I'll do it. It's- it's the least I can do."

"Captain..." there was an infinite sadness in Armin's voice and in his eyes. Some of it, Levi knew, wasn't caused by the need to clean Hange's office. They all had their fair share of tragedies.

"I'm not your Captain anymore," he answered wearily. "And don't bother yourself with worrying about me. Just-"

"I'll give you some time," Armin nodded. He gave Levi one last cautious look and then turned, slowly walking away.

Levi watched him go for a second and then looked at the door, grasping the handle. He opened that door hundreds, if not thousands of times. There shouldn't be anything hard about it. Yet his heart was in his throat as he stared at the wooden surface.

It was the second time he was clearing that particular room. It was the second time he couldn't protect what was important to him.

He let out a shaky breath and turned the handle.

The room was dusty. It was messy, with stacks of papers littering every possible surface. It was... just as Hange left it.

Levi gulped and stepped inside.

His knees grew weaker with every step. He tried to pretend it was from exhaustion. He tried to keep his composure for as long as it was possible.

He decided to start with a desk, gathering all the papers, quills and books. Most of it held no importance - simple reports, accounts and official letters. Levi held each paper with utmost care, laying it inside the card box he had brought with him.

Most of the stuff there was meaningless, useless. But not for him.

For him, it was a proof, an evidence of Hange's existence, a testimony of her work and life, of everything she had accomplished. For Levi, it was the most precious thing in the world.

Slowly and methodically he looked through every paper and journal. Hours went until he moved from the desk to the bookshelf, from the bookshelf to the closet.

His hand trembled, as he opened it and saw Hange's jacket still hanging inside. His fingers touched the soft fabric. It wasn't washed in a long time, Hange's smell still clinged to it. Levi took it off the rack and draped it around his shoulders.

He pulled the jacket tighter around himself and continued with his work. At the back of the closet he saw a small box, and, curious Levi took it in his hands.

Inside lay even more papers, but those were different. They still were written by Hange, but the handwriting was different, a lot messier. They were written before Erwin's death, Levi guessed. They were written back when Hange was still allowed to be a messy, crazy scientist, not an strict and experienced leader.

The box contained her scribblings and doodles, drafts of new weapons and outlines for the next experiments. There were a few of drawings, and the quality of them told Levi that they were most likely done by Moblit.

At the very bottom of it all, Levi found an envelope. 'For Levi' was written on it.

Levi's breath hitched. Carefully he opened the envelope. Inside there was a letter.

Feeling his legs buckle, Levi sat down on chair beside the table and started reading.

If you're reading this, then one of those things happened: you went through my stuff again, probably during your cleaning spree; I was too much of a chicken to tell you everything myself and left it by your door; or... I'm not with you anymore. If the latter is true, than I'm sorry and I hope you can go on without me. Also I hope that in my last moments, I looked as awesome as possible. If not, then please pretend I did.

Either way, I'm writing you this letter because there is so much I want to tell you and so little time to actually talk with you. Life has been hectic in those last years, don't you think? Sometimes I wish we could go back to the way it was. I wish we could go back to the times, where it was just us - you, me, Erwin, Mike, Nanaba and Moblit fighting a hopeless fight against giant monsters. No shifters, no Marley, just our shitty little world inside the walls. Don't you think it'd be nice?

You probably don't, and you probably are rolling your eyes at my naivety. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me, Levi. You are the closest friend I ever have. You're the last friend that I have, and I... I can not thank you enough for this. For sticking by my side through thick and thin, for tolerating my quirks and weird habits, for being my rock in this sea of uncertainties. I lov... Ah, well, you probably know exactly how I feel about you, subtlety was never my strong forte.

We live in a terrible world, but if there is one thing I'm grateful for, if there is one thing that almost makes it all worth is the fact that I've met you. You make me so happy, Levi, and I'm so happy to have an honor of calling you my friend.

You know, sometimes I wonder - would we still get along if not for our circumstances? Would you still like me if not for the duty that bound us together?

Sometimes I try to imagine a different life, a life where we could be allowed to be happy. To be together - safe and alive. Maybe, I'd still be living with my parents, up in a big mansion in the middle of the capital. Maybe, you'd be a notorious criminal from th Underground I'd have a scandalous affair with! You would sneak into my room in the middle of the night, getting past my father's guards and climbing inside though the window.

Or, maybe, I'd be a student and you'd work at the bar I frequent. I'd be trying to flirt with you to get free drinks for me and my friends, and you'd grumble and roll your eyes at me, waving me off like an annoying fly.

Maybe, we could be simple soldiers, without high ranks and important tasks. We'd be allowed to retire and run away to a small village, where we could live together and raise some cattle.

Wouldn't it be nice?

It would, and I'm sure you think the same. But life is what it is, and, for better or worse, we can't do nothing to change it.

Despite all the shit we've been through, there is one thing I would never think of changing, and it's meeting and befriending you. Whatever happens when you read this letter, I hope you remember this. And remember me.

Forever yours, Hange

There was a dark, old stain at the end of the letter. As he finished reading it, another one appeared.

Levi let the tears flow, rereading the letter again and again. He could almost hear Hange's voice as he read her words. He could almost see her smile and her bright eyes.

He wished Hange told him sooner. He wished he confessed to her before the world had torn them apart. But he knew it wouldn't have changed anything.

They were soldiers, nothing more than tools of war. Their hearts weren't their own, they belonged to humanity.

But with no squad to lead and no battle to fight, Levi turned into an old and broken man. His heart still wasn't his own, as he had given it away, sacrificing it along with his hope for a happy future with the one he loved.

He could still dream, though. Dream of another life, dream of those scenarios Hange described.

He could still dream and hope that it wasn't their last meeting, that in another life, much kinder than this one, they'd be allowed to be happy.

[ethrenisnotthehero]

@hogwartsmystory is a predator (final)

If you haven’t read the other parts of this callout, I encourage you to start here. As in both previous posts, the normal tags are not included in order to allow this to reach as many people as possible. Potential triggers are listed below, and the main content is hidden to keep sensitive individuals from being unintentionally exposed.

TW: Pedophilia, Abuse, Gaslighting, Sexual Assault, Self Harm, Suicide, NSFW Topics, Faked Illness, Faked Mental Illness, Faked Death, Victim Blaming

Originally, I intended to craft this final part to you, the reader, as an emotional appeal. To be wholly honest, there’s only so much evidence that can be utilized without either forcing Jill to relive unnecessary trauma or exposing deeply intimate or personal parts of her life. Until now, everything I’ve told you and everything I’ve shown you is what was enough to convince me when Jill first reached out to me. If you, the reader, don’t believe the factual information that’s been presented so far, then I don’t think that you will. If you, the reader, believe Jill and her story, then no further evidence is going to magically make her story more true.

However, I don’t have to. Instead, I can let the friends-- the family--that Ren created on his website speak for themselves, and show you with their own testimony just the kind of person he was. Jill wasn’t the only person that Ren hurt. Jill wasn’t even the only person Ren preyed on as a sexual predator. Many people on staff, and many people outside of it, knew Ren and grew to have what they thought was a close relationship with him. People regarded him as someone to look up to, to find comfort in, to aspire after, to lean on; people thought of him as a friend and a hero in his community.

On April 12, 2021, at 9:57 AM Greenwhich Mean Time, the current administrators of Advanced Scribes issued a statement addressing Ren’s actions and his faked death. An additional announcement was made the following day. While the announcements themselves and the replies (including moderator statements) are publicly available, I have saved a print-to-PDF versions on Google for you to browse at your leisure. 

I intentionally waited until the initial panic and outrage died out a little to let the most important statements come to light. Included in the PDF are sentiments that I personally thought were the most important sentiments; edits have been made and pages have been deleted, so you can see the current state of the conversations by visiting them directly. You can find the first discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42100#p1454263 and the second discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42107#p1454361.

Before you continue reading, please look over the statements and replies. The words of former staff former friends say more than I can ever hope to about Ren and the kind of reality that he stood for. Additionally, Jill herself has added to the conversation (username Rakuen), so you can read a bit from her perspective by looking into these announcements. After you’ve taken a look, continue below and I will sum up my final thoughts on this predator and his legacy.

Advanced Scribes • Our Statement (PDF)

Advanced Scribes • Change (PDF)

The Act of Grooming, Part 3: Entrapment

One of the reasons that predators get away with their crimes for so long is because they trap their victims. When they gain access to and successfully lure in their prey, they then engage in entrapment behavior to separate victims from other people and build reliance. The reason why kids are so prone to predation is because of how vulnerable they are. Young people just want to belong. They just want to have community, security, and affection. When they can’t get those things in their lives, they seek it out and take it where they can get it even when the situation is obviously bad. Kids can’t be held accountable for being smart because they’re kids. Jill was vulnerable. She wanted belonging and support. She fell into Ren’s lures, and he trapped her. He used his affection as a tool to solicit sexual favors and pictures from her, but never shared his face with her. She was always chasing his love, and all the while he was simultaneously preying on other individuals in the community. For God’s sake, this man had a selfie thread where underage girls would send pictures of themselves publicly on the site for him to look at, and he even intentionally disabled the website’s COPPA features.

Before Jill, there was Buttercup. Buttercup was also an admin, and she was also 13 when she met Ren. While Ren was a minor during he and Buttercup’s relationship, his behavior with her was just as predatory and Buttercup attempted to warn Jill via PM before she ended her relationship with him.

The picture he sent Buttercup wasn’t even him.

The entire time that Ren was convincing Jill that Buttercup was evil, and jealous, and a spiteful, hateful person, he was manipulating her the same way he was manipulating Jill. Ren is a predator who knows what he’s doing; he always has. He draws in his victims and makes everyone hate them so that he’s the only person they have. He makes them so desperate for his approval that they let him screw them over time and time again, and for what? Just to see his face. Think about what you read. He didn’t just do this to Jill and Buttercup. He did this to every person he cheated with or got close enough to get a grip on. Even if he didn’t sexually exploit someone, he emotionally did. An entire community of people suffered through this over and over and over again. Read the statements again. If you only read the live version, read the PDF. 

I also want you to bear in mind that everyone on staff was equally a victim as they were an enabler. It doesn’t erase their responsibility, but their roles in this story or more nuanced than “moderator bad, burn the witch!” Some of Ren’s supporters were as young or younger than Jill when they met him. The two people most notorious for standing at his side right now were both “rewarded” with a relationship with him in the fallout of his faked death.  

At some point, this man looked at his behavior and not only decided that he didn’t need to take responsibility, but that his victims daring to try and claim some kind of ownership over their own story was a personal affront to him. 

Ren is a monster of his own creation. He chose to be that monster again, and again, and again.

What makes his enablers equally to blame is when they became adults and made a conscious choice to ignore what was happening, which brings us to the next topic.

Finally... How Old Was Jill?

Despite everything I’ve said and shared so far, I still get this question in my inbox.

How old was Jill? Did she lie about her age? Is she free of guilt because she was a kid? Did he know how old she was? Was she legal in her country?

I gave you all everything I had. There were some things I just couldn’t confirm because there was no proof either way. However, all of that changed when the announcements were released. I now know exactly how old Jill was when they began dating, exactly how old she was when people knew about their relationship, and even that Ren was public with all of this information. I also know that staff knew everything, and chose to do nothing.

As you can see in the screenshots above of Buttercup’s message, it was sent on Jun 17, 2015. At that time, Jill was 14 years old. By Buttercup’s estimation, they had been dating for around a few months, which is how I was able to discern the previous exact age of 14 years old at the time they began dating.

However, Ren himself refutes that fact in a Valentine’s post for Jill. As pointed out in the “Our Statement” thread, the post that user amnesia. references includes very sexual and disgustingly graphic descriptions of Ren’s activity with her. It also says this:

As per the timestamp of this particular post (as seen below), Jill was 16 at the time. Ren, a man claiming to be twenty-five years old at the time, was proud to admit that he had been with Jill since she was 13.

You can view the full PDF of this post to see what else he said here, but please be warned that his descriptions are NSFW and absolutely disgusting. 

Warm Fuzzies Post (PDF)

No adult should talk about a kid like that. In the statements, several staff members admit that they knew that the two were dating when she was 16, and that it grossed them out. But none of them did anything. To amnesia.’s credit, they claim they tried to pursue legal action but found no viable routes. 

From the discussions and statements, we can discern five things:

1. Jill was 13 when she started dating Ren. 2. She did not lie about her age. 3. Ren did not lie about her age. 4. Ren knew how old she was. 5. Staff knew how old she was.

Jill’s feelings and her opinions on staff and their behavior are separate from my own. She does not share my beliefs here, and I need to make it very clear that what I’m saying next is entirely my own opinion.

To everyone who was staff at that time: shame on you. It’s one thing to be a victim yourself and to not understand how or when to stand up for what’s right, especially when you’re young; it’s another to become an adult and to have let something like this permeate your legacy and your community for all this time. From what I understand, none of you are completely innocent in this. Ren wasn’t secret, he was loud and proud and he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Everyone who was an adult then and is an adult now shares some responsibility for that. Those of you who mean your apologies, thank you, but those of you who are using this event as a stepping stone to make that website into your own personal playground know who you are. Stop. There’s an entire generation of kids between AS and CS who have lost years of their childhoods to this shit and the only right thing at this point would be to turn the site over to the police so that Ren can answer for his crimes the right way.

To everyone else: protect the people around you. People like Ren don’t think about how other people think or feel. They don’t care who gets hurt or who they trample under their feet. Look around at your community, and ask yourself if those who interact with you know that you are safe. Inevitably, someone is going to get hurt. Are you the kind of person that they can come to when it happens, or are you the kind of person who will turn your head away? 

Be the person that everyone knows they can come to, because, eventually, someone’s going to need you.

[bumackerman]

DEAR ADULT READERS/CREATORS,

18+ (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

^ see that? there is absolutely no way you missed that disclaimer if you understand the proper way to read english. but, let’s say you did miss it... here’s this message;

if you are under the age of 18, do not interact with 18+ adult accounts, or content.

there. hopefully you got the memo. if not, then i guess, one day, you’ll have the great opportunity to be featured in this brand new series of exposing, purging, and reporting minors! i mean... yay you?

disclaimer!; do not send any unnecessary hate to any of these people! it does not solve anything, and it could get you in trouble. just report, and block. thanks.

featured today, we have (drumroll please)... @/matching-with-my-demons!

warning: this post is very long!

alright, so i don’t actually know for sure if he’s necessarily a minor, but i do know that he’s been lying his age, and many, many other details about his life, leading to him getting caught by yours truly.

from this point forward, i will be reciting a briefed account of what exactly happened from a collective point of view of all of the victims involved.

I. beginning.

so, (and i think all of the people involved can agree,) this person is a flirt. automatically. just giving everyone pet names, talking about doing stuff with us, role playing with us, you know. nothing too extreme. i wasn’t suspicious of him at this point. i mean, i was sure he was 18+. to be fair, he did mention that he was 21 turning 22. why wouldn’t we believe him? he was speaking like an adult.

II. little lies & suspicion.

now, i’m not saying that this is impossible, but at multiple times during our conversations, he’d mentioned that he was was fluent in seven languages. seven. it’s not entirely impossible, but you’d think that if english wasn’t someone’s first (of many) languages, they’d have some sort of accent, right?

not only that, but he stated that he was six years old when he moved to america from japan, and he hasn’t moved since. i know, i know, yeah, cool he knows a lot of languages, and he’s a foreigner. yadda, yadda. get to the point.

he said that he was of asian descent, and that his parents were both japanese, and they lived in japan their whole lives. where the hell is he learning all of these extra languages at the young age of 21?

if japanese is his first language, we can cut out the time needed to become fluent in it. next, i’m ignoring english, as he would’ve had from the age of 6 to 21 to become fluent in it, but somehow he claimed he wasn’t? (let’s not mention the obvious fake misspellings and misunderstandings of simple words.) how on earth would he have become fluent in (at least) five other languages in middle school-high school?

OTHER LITTLE LIES N DETAILS

- he claimed that he was a 6’7, 21 year old (cis) male.

- said he was a stripper, bartender, and a sex worker (we’ll come back to that later).

- sent a picture of “his” chest, but it was 100% from google or some shit.

- (not judging anyone who does) he said that his body count was 74, but literally no one asked?

- he texted us when he “got another body” tf? we don’t care. carry on, i guess. (said he went on for like 7 rounds but... what?)

- talked about getting a vibrator stuck in his ass n his roommate had to get it out for him, but once again, nobody asked. °-°

- said he could bench 200 lbs. not impressive, just thought it was worth mentioning.

- said he had the same birthday as bakugou, which, okay.. (4/20)

- he made multiple channels in the server where he could roleplay with certain people, which, i, and a couple other people never used.

III. the voice chat.

after a while of all of us messing around, the conversation started to get heated, and some of us were teasing him, including me. we decided to get on voice chat (his idea), and he started talking into the mic. all of us were very confused, as he did not at all sound like a giant of a grown man.

but, despite this, we all warily continued, until he left the call. when he left, everyone who was participating voiced their current concerns, and laughed out our nervousness. that is, until he re-joined and everyone muted. he continued doing what he was doing until he “broke character”, stating he was a voice actor and it was hard to keep up that voice because it hurt his throat. i would’ve believed him if he didn’t sound the exact same as he did when he was “in character”.

after that, we were a lot more concerned and on edge about his identity, and i started to focus more on the shit he was telling us, hoping to find out who the fuck this person really was. i stopped interacting with him in a nsfw way, and mostly observed what he was saying, just watching from the sidelines.

II. the pictures.

captions:

not only do the skin colors just not match up, the hands in each picture are totally different people. even if you take into account the lighting differences, the undertones should still be the same. these pictures are fake.

if you look at the fingers, you can see that the ones on the right are flatter, and shorter. if the hand on the left were to hold that phone, it would wrap all the way around the device.

from a common sense standpoint, we know that our palms are always lighter than our skin tone. the fact that the hand on the left is still darker, proves that these are different people. (not that we needed proof.)

also, if this guy is so muscular, why can he only bench 200lbs? and why is his wrist so skinny?

+ to me, the phone, (right image) and the quality of the picture, looks like a black iphone 4s. from what i can see, at least. meaning, if i’m correct, that picture is majorly outdated.

for both pictures, he flipped the image so that we wouldn’t be able to find it by just by reverse image searching. luckily, one of the people involved was able to figure that out, and told me immediately.

III. ID check.

like i said before, a lot of us were starting to get really suspicious, but at this point, i thought i was the only one that was sketched out, so i issued another ID check.

(be sure to click on the pictures. one of them is really long. also, when reading, read the date and times that messages are sent. i was trying to lighten the mood and be nice, but it was honestly so offensive that he thought i was legitimately dumb.)

so, obviously, these ID’s are fake. not only are the pictures the exact same, but the backgrounds are the same, the outfits are the same, the names are totally fake, and just, wow. i don’t really know how he thought that was gonna slip past me.

after i called both him, and @/yourmajesty-theking out, he went into his own discord and started ranting to some of the other people involved that he was freaking out because he didn’t have his ID.

remember how i said that he mentioned he was a stripper/bartender/sex worker? why the fuck don’t you have your ID on you if you claimed you were at work that day? you can’t get in without it. °-° just- everything he was saying didn’t come together cleanly. the timeline is all sorts of fucked up.

you can’t drive without an ID, how are you getting to work? you can’t get into a strip club without an ID, how are you getting in? you can’t serve alcohol without and ID, how are you a bartender? you can’t get an apartment without an ID, how are you living with a roommate?

he told us that he moved to america with his PARENTS, and somehow his grandmother is in america now? when did that happen? if you’re gonna lie, at least make it believable.

IV. conclusion.

anyway, do what you want with this information. the people in the discord all agreed that based off his voice and the evidence, that he couldn’t have been older than 15, and at most, 16.

though he hasn’t deactivated his account, the last time he was active was april 7, 2021 at 12:39am (EST) he claims he lives in cali, so i don’t know what time that is there.

thanks for reading. i’m sure i missed a lot of stuff, but for now, this is all i could put together. also, lmk if there are any spelling errors. i’m too tired to check.

like i said, if i get any hate for calling out a minor, you will be blocked/reported, and i will not hesitate to turn anons off for the time being. besides, saying dumb shit doesn’t affect me. just makes me laugh.

- bum <3

[alirhi]

random story snippet

@goblin-tea this is part of that story I was talking about/sending you bits of. I'll get into the better stuff (imo) in a bit, but this is a much better example of what the main characters are like than what I sent earlier lol

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto,” she mumbled, still clinging to Audrey’s hand as she nervously followed Fiona’s example and took a moment to study the immediate area.

“No shit, Sherlock,” the blonde growled, yanking her hand away. Rebecca could stand there like an idiot if she chose, but damn it! She was going to explore and find a way home, right now. Clearly, her friend’s oh-so-brilliant spell had backfired quite horribly, and now they were lost, with no idea of where they were, when they were, or what was going…

Her thoughts were jarringly interrupted when Rebecca suddenly let out a short, high-pitched scream, causing both of her friends to jump.

“WHAT?!” Spinning to face the taller woman, she took a deep breath in preparation to chew her out, and then promptly hid behind her. “…Is that a dinosaur?”

“Deinonychus,” Rebecca confirmed in a reverent whisper. Her screech had been from excitement, rather than fear; the giant grin on her freckled face was evidence enough of that. Though she knew she was the only one who cared about the details, she still explained in a rush, “Fast, smart, and very deadly carnivore from the late Cretaceous period, probably the basis for the oversized velociraptors in Jurassic Park… A raptor’s colorful feathers make it look like a ridiculous, disproportionate toucan, which is probably why the producers chose to make it look more like our friend here. Fossils of the deinonychus have never been found with any indication of feathers.”

“It does have feathers, you walking Wiki!” Audrey hissed, stepping back. No way in hell was she going to stand there like an idiot and get eaten by some parrot on crack.

Fiona remained rooted in place beside the other redhead, though she did stoop to pick up Rebecca's forgotten staff, just in case the curious animal decided to attack. A tiny smile played at the edges of her lips at the toucan comparison. It did sort of look like one, in a weird way…

Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, their nerdy friend nodded. “Yeah… Most of this type of dinosaur did, so paleontologists kinda figured the deinonychus would, too.”

The prehistoric bird of prey studied them, almost seeming to ponder something. Just as Rebecca was about to make a Philosoraptor joke, the fascinating – if deadly – beast twitched, letting out a series of loud clicking noises.

“…Huh. Whaddaya know. That dude on youtube was right…” An answering call echoed from somewhere to the left of the three shivering girls, and startled the amateur paleontologist out of her daze. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Both of her friends shot her nervous glances, reluctant to take their eyes off of the giant predator. Why wasn’t it moving?

“Run.” When Fiona shot her an incredulous look, Rebecca shook her head. Normally, yes, she would caution against any sudden moves around a wild animal, but this was different. More clicks from their right, answered by the one animal they could see, illustrated why. “He’s calling in reinforcements – run!”

That was all the motivation the shivering blonde needed. With a terrified shriek, Audrey turned and bolted into the forest, Rebecca and Fiona hot on her heels.

“I think it’s safe to assume,” the oldest woman gasped out, jumping over a fallen tree limb, “that we’ve somehow been sent back too far.”

“Ya THINK?!”

"Now's not the time to get snippy!” Her lungs were burning, her legs cramping, and though she could hear the creature gaining on them, she had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t putting forth much effort. She and her surrogate sister were both overweight to the point of obesity, and as such, speed wasn’t exactly on their side. In fact, it had been one of the things they’d hoped to go back and change; if they never got fat, they wouldn’t have to deal with the health problems associated with it or the hassle of constantly trying and failing to lose it.

Risking a glance to the side, she noticed Fiona keeping pace with them, and winced. She was hanging back to help them, she knew. By far the skinniest and healthiest of the three of them, she was lightning fast compared to the other two. While both her companions were morbidly obese, Fiona was lithe and fit, with legs like a gazelle. She was going slowly so she could defend them with that big stick if she had to. That was the only logical explanation Rebecca could come up with. The fact that the 'big stick' was her own walking stick was momentarily lost on the eldest of the three.

Mother above, she prayed desperately, if there’s even a trace of magic left in my blood, please, please unleash it now to give us speed.

Too angry and frightened to bother with logic, Audrey just rolled her eyes, yelping when it caused her to trip over a rock and nearly sent her sprawling. Fiona caught her by the arm and helped her steady herself, and she managed a tiny grateful smile, even as she snapped at the redhead, “Shut up! It’s your fault that we’re in our own personal Jurassic Hell, being chased by a fucking raptor!”

“Cretaceous!” Rebecca snarled, dodging around a rather intimidating thorny bush. “And it’s not a raptor, it’s-”

“I DON’T CARE!”

“It’s actually quite fascinating,” Rebecca asserted through wheezing gasps for breath, “if you think about it. We finally… get to see… proof… that dino…saurs… were more like…flightless…birds…than…”

“I don’t give a shit if we’re being chased by an ostrich or a crocodile!” Audrey screeched before her friend could finish. “If I end up something’s lunch, it’s your fault! And you know what? Fuck you! Fuck your stupid spell. Fuck your obsessions. Fuck your fucking imaginary friend and the horse you both rode in on for good measure!” Even in a life-or-death situation, somehow an old inside joke popped into her head, and she managed to suck in a deep enough breath to scream, "AND YES, HE'S NAMED 'SIDEWAYS'!"

“Guys, this really isn’t the time to be arguing,” Fiona pointed out as calmly as she could, glancing over her shoulder to see how they were faring. It wasn't good. She could deal with Audrey and her rather offensive temper tantrum later, she decided; escaping the turkey-sized ball of feathers and teeth chasing them took precedence.

“Sorry…” Pouting a little, the blonde risked a glance back, and nearly wet herself when she saw that their prehistoric pursuer was getting closer and closer. “Oh, fuck me…” Something brushed the side of her head, and she jumped, but it was only a leaf hanging down from another large tree.

Wait. Leaf…tree… She glanced up, relieved to see that the branch was low enough for her to grab hold. Circling around so that she wouldn’t get caught by their feathered menace, she pushed herself just a little bit more and managed to haul herself up onto the branch. “Guys!”

“What are you doing?!” Rebecca cried, having been too focused on running to notice where Audrey had gone. Fiona had been taking up the rear, focus switching between the others and the predator, but had been looking primarily in the latter’s direction for a few minutes. When she turned and saw only Rebecca standing there, she froze and glanced around. As they spotted Audrey in the tree, they also became aware of the fact that their enemy seemed a lot closer than before.

“Can raptors climb?” Audrey called out, wincing as she watched the scene unfold. Though she had long legs and strong, muscular calves, Rebecca outweighed her by a good fifty pounds, and it was visibly taking its toll. She was tiring, and the blonde just prayed she could pull herself up to safety before that thing or its as-yet unseen companions ripped her apart. She had plenty of reasons not to worry too much about Fiona.

“Come on.” Urging her tiring friend on, the skinnier redhead decided to take at least this one cue from Audrey and circled around the trunk of a massive tree, making sure Rebecca followed. It confused their attacker, bought them a little time, and kept them from getting out of earshot of Audrey.

At her friend’s soft, gentle reminder of what she’d been asked, Rebecca frowned. She wanted to remind the treed woman that they weren’t being chased by a velociraptor, but dismissed it as a waste of time. Instead, she considered her question as she doubled back.

Could this breed of dinosaurs climb? “I…I’m not sure,” she panted, one hand coming up to press against her chest. “I don’t think so. Their arms are probably too small to pull them up.”

“Then get your ass up here!”

They reached the tree, and Fiona quickly jumped up like it was nothing, setting the staff aside and braced across two nearby branches to keep it from falling. She and Audrey then each stretched out an arm, hands extended to grab Rebecca’s and pull her up as the youngest of the three continued, “And pray Jurassic Park was wrong about more than just the raptor’s appearance, cuz here he comes, and if he brought friends, you’re toast!”

“It’s not a raptor!” Rebecca reached for their hands, though she harbored little hope that she could actually get her fat ass up there. With or without their help, in her mind, she was dead.

“Please note, you’re the only one who cares,” the other young woman grumbled, grasping her friend’s wrist and exerting every bit of strength she had left to pull her to safety. Rebecca had virtually no upper body strength, and without Audrey and Fiona, would never be able to make it up onto the branch, despite being taller than both of them.

She almost dropped the larger girl when she suddenly yelped. Fiona glared at her, trying to compensate by taking more of their friend’s weight until she got a better grip on her arm.

Still a bit startled, she searched Rebecca’s eyes for some sign of what the hell that had been about, and found only fear. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Pull me up! Pull me up!” Refusing to say anything else, she gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might, kicking all the while. What she knew the blonde couldn’t see from her perch was that the dinosaur had caught up to her while they both struggled, and had grabbed hold of her calf with its sharp claws. Suddenly, she was glad for the long leather boots that, only moments before, she’d been cursing.

As the creature went for Rebecca again, Fiona grabbed the staff and whacked it as hard as she could over the head. It turned on her for a moment, but before it could do anything, Rebecca kicked it in the face. Taking advantage of the opportunity she’d just created, she stood on the hungry animal’s head and pushed off. At last, she was seated on the rough limb, with the deinonychus just barely out of reach. Gasping desperately for air as she turned and clung to Audrey, she glanced down at the bewildered creature and managed a breathless “thanks!” The moment Rebecca was safely out of reach, Fiona crept along the branch and headed for a different one. The tree was old and strong, but the three of them in the same spot could easily snap the branch and send them right to the dinosaur’s clutches.

Once she settled on another perch, they sat there for a moment, contemplating their luck, both good and bad, and watching the hungry animal watch them. All three knew that with a little effort, the thing could probably reach the two on the lower branch with those lethal, powerful jaws. Since it had clearly not yet figured this out, none of them really cared. Audrey was exhausted and sore, the entirety of her plump body throbbing unbearably now that adrenaline had begun to flee her as she had fled the dinosaur. Fiona was desperately trying to get her breath back, and though she felt fine otherwise, she knew she’d feel like she’d been hit by a bus in the morning. Rebecca, too, was exhausted and sore, though the pain in her muscles and joints hadn’t yet registered. Her gaze shifted from the restless animal to the long jagged tears in the back of her skirt, which she studied with a sort of numb, detached fascination.

“Well,” she said finally, still scarcely able to breathe. “That was exhilarating.”

Fiona laughed.

“Exhilarating?” Audrey gaped at her. “Are you fucking kidding me? We just almost became something’s soon-to-be-fossilized lunch!”

Shrugging, Rebecca glanced down at the prehistoric lizard…bird…thing. And suddenly she felt pity for it, and all the living things around them. After a long silence, during which the deinonychus finally lost interest and stormed off in search of easier prey, she finally murmured, “We survived, didn’t we? That’s more than anything else in this time period can say.” Where were its companions? The question bubbled up out of nowhere, and once formed, refused to be dismissed. She'd heard it call to someone, and heard an answer... Or had she? Had she imagined it all?

“We don’t belong in this time period!” Audrey's reply startled her out of her confused reverie. Her voice was shrill, expression aghast as she stared at the other woman as if she’d lost her mind. Perhaps that was obvious. For a second, she considered that maybe shehad gone mad, and this whole nightmarish situation was just a scene playing out in her ever-overactive imagination.

Then she shifted, and the ankle she’d twisted when she tripped on a rock sent a twinge of pain up her leg. The idea of any of this being anything less than horribly, undeniably real was scrapped, and she glanced around. She would merely search for makeshift supplies, she decided. She would rewrite Rebecca’s stupid spell, and get them back to the present. If this experience was meant to teach them anything, she was sure it was that the past can’t be changed, which she was suddenly ready to accept as Gospel truth. Life sucked, but they could make it better if they just focused less on whining about it, and more on actually doing something about it.

A strange weight on her mind drew her from her thoughts and she turned to look. Rebecca was staring at her.

Huffing a bit, she gestured to her shredded clothing. “That’s going to get infected. You’ll probably die before the week is out.”

“Thanks, Captain Optimism,” the other woman growled, rolling her eyes.

“We don’t have anything to wrap it with!” she snapped, interrupting her friend’s attempt to assure her that she was fine.

“I can rip something if you want,” Fiona offered, gesturing to her clothes.

“We have no idea what’s poisonous and what’s not,” Audrey continued to rant as if the other young woman hadn’t spoken, “We’re about sixty-five million years away from peroxide, never mind penicillin. And all of this is assuming you just get some kind of nasty infection. Every carnivore with at least one nostril can probably smell all that blood for miles. If we don’t get the hell back to modern times, you are going to die!”

To shut her up, Rebecca sighed and reached down, shoving her torn skirt out of the way to show the long scratches across her boot. She could see them alright through the slashes in her skirt, but clearly Audrey was less observant. “I’m not bleeding, genius. He was aiming to grab, not gut; he didn’t get through the leather.” She gestured, but wasn’t the least bit surprised when Audrey only shook her head and looked away.

“I’m just worried about you,” she whispered, much more subdued as the fight slowly drained from her. “You got lucky this time, but as long as we stay here, we’re in danger every second, from everything.”

As if only just then remembering that Fiona was there, she whipped around and stared up over her shoulder at her. "And how the hell are you still corporeal? How were you ever in the first place? I mean, nice to meet you, I guess? But what the actual fuck is going on?!"

[soulmate-game]

Okay, I’m not sure if what I was trying to say in my last post was said very well.

I completely understand the tagging situation from the First Wave with the DC fans. That’s discourse that is mostly solved and we can’t do anything about those who are forever gonna be bitter or lazy. I’m not talking about that stuff.

The stuff I want to prevent/limit is the hate that comes after our fandom deliberately. And yes, I know I can’t stop it. None of us can stop bitter, antagonistic people from being bitter and antagonistic. None of us can stop people who just want to be angry.

I’m not talking about stopping them, though.

I’m talking about what we can do to protect ourselves as creators and consumers in this fandom. As people who love and appreciate what the creations and people in this fandom have to offer. In simplistic form, I’m saying we need to learn how to shield ourselves from bullies. And there are methods we can use to make ourselves less of a target to the people who go after us, and methods to cut their attacks off short. None of these methods are fool-proof, but they will work to filter out a good majority of the shit we would otherwise be showered by, like a big umbrella against Assholery. Sure, the wind might still blow some in our face and we might splash in a puddle or two by accident, but at least we aren’t soaked.

So let me list the various things that can help you shield yourself from hate/harassment/antis who might just be out to get you.

1) leave the fandom.

The most effective, but least attractive method possible. This is limited to being a last ditch effort, if things have just gotten too hard to handle. I’m covering it first though, because we have to acknowledge that it is a viable method. If you feel trapped, hated, bullied, I’m sure all of us in this fandom would prefer you take a break and leave us for a while in the sake of your own health and safety then stay where you are miserable. This is less of a problem for us though, because mostly this option is gonna be for fandoms where the discourse and attacks are internal. Maribat is largely a peaceful and supportive/healthy environment once you’re inside our little bubble, the main discourse comes from outside in. So let’s focus on the main point of this post— how to keep our bubble from popping.

2) Make it apparent right away that you are Unapologetic.

Whenever you post content or are approached by someone about the topic of your fandom, don’t you DARE ever apologize for liking what you like or posting unproblematic content. You need to make it clear right off the bat that you are not gonna be swayed, bullied, or shamed out of your fandom. Stand with pride and make it clear, but don’t be verbose about it. A simple “Don’t like, don’t read” is classic but sometimes if you’re posting/talking during a more confrontational period of the fandom, you need to up your game to reflect that. The funny thing is, people can easily be intimidated by swearing if it isn’t directed at them or clearly antagonistic. If you’re swearing in a joking, casual or even in a manner that shows you’re not taking yourself too seriously, people will usually avoid picking fights with you. For this, my favorite lines to use on my work include;

“Don’t like, I don’t fucking care. I fell down the rabbit hole.”

“Don’t bother reading if you’re not into this, this shit bitch-slapped me and dragged me along on it’s adventure.”

“I’m addicted to this fandom, don’t bother trying to save me. If it bothers you, I don’t give a fuck. Save yourselves.”

3) Don’t approach or interact

Unless someone comes at you first, never try to persuade someone away from hating us. That just makes you a target in an empty field, for the vultures to surround and gang up on. If someone approaches you with provocative but not overly insulting or intelligent language— I.e; trying to start a fight, vague insults not always relating to the fandom itself, trying to insult your character/judgement— do not respond. Delete the message, block the account, and surround yourself with fluffy good stuff to forget the wanna-be harasser. These people are often not brave enough to outright start a fight, and want you to get defensive first so they know the weak points in your armor to exploit. Defensive statements declare your own insecurities, don’t get defensive. It gives them a way to win without having to defend themselves or feel vulnerable— it’s like exploiting type differences in Pokémon. You wait for an unfamiliar Pokémon to expose it’s type, then snipe it with the moves it’s weak to. Then, you have a near sure-fire win even with under leveled Pokémon on your team.

Don’t be a proud Infernape that gets sniped by a weak-ass level 5 Piplup. We’re strong, don’t show them the chinks in our armor.

4) Have a support network. Even if they don’t know they are your support network.

The fandom as a whole serves this purpose, and this is mostly gonna be a tactic you use when the discourse is inside the fandom, but there can be uses for this in discourse from outside the fandom as well. If someone tries to act like they like your story/art “but...” they passive aggressively state things they “would prefer” or they try to make it sound like you made stupid mistakes (a tactic to make you insecure about yourself) instead of kindly pointing out errors or offering constructive criticism (ex: “you know you put your trigger list somewhere where it’s useless right? Love your story though.)—THESE ARE ALL PROVOCATIONS. They are trying to make you insecure so that you change things about yourself, your work, or jump through hoops to try to “make it up” to them when you did nothing wrong and there are no problems to fix. Do not fall for it! Instead, politely as possible, bring the issue into a public space where you feel safe/trust the people in that space to keep the bullshit from escalating. For me, I straight up explain my reasoning for the placement of my trigger list as if I’m advertising a particularly boring but important product that I’m selling, then offer places for them to bring the issue into a discussion with others. I send them to a discoed group or right here to my tumblr, and I immediately make the issue into a big discussion (do YOU think there is anything to change? Let’s ALL talk about it) so that I am no longer isolated and easy for them to harass. They might refuse to join the discussion and further try to pressure you, but do not cave. Merely say that a public discussion has been started, and if they are actually, legitimately concerned about the way you do things then they can debate it in a public setting. This way, you have back up. 9/10 people who try to target you this way will back off and never enter the conversation you started.

5) Do not fight back.

This sounds counterintuitive, but a lot of the time once discourse gets this bad, arguing/defending/ trying to prove your point only fuels their rage more. I have found that people hate very little in this world more than they hate being wrong. And people who hate being wrong will fight to the bitter death about their opinions, no matter how invalid or hurtful they are, in the favor of their blissful ignorance. Remove yourself from harmful discussions or those that seem to be going in circles as soon as possible, and try to surround yourself in your support group. Never let people make you feel stupid, your opinions illegitimate, or your likes/dislikes invalid or evil.

6) Try to learn how to recognize bullies in disguise

It’s too much for me to try to cover here, but you need to PLEASE look into how to spot gaslighting. Tactics of gaslighting are often used to attack others and try to make them feel like their own opinions are invalid or their mindset untrustworthy. People will often approach you in the guise of friendship/support/ “I am not into this, but...” and while this is not always a red flag, we have to keep our eyes open for any signs of this person or their approach being rooted in anything other than legitimate curiosity or kindness. Not all suggestions that say they are out of concern actually ARE. Keep an eye out for warning signs, and cut off interaction once things seem like they may lead to an argument or you being in a vulnerable position if you continue interacting.

(Brief mention of s**cide and threats in the section below)

7) If all else fails, BLOCK THEM.

No hesitation, we don’t need this shit. They make a second account? Block that too. Don’t respond, only take screenshots or reblog if it is directly harmful information that can/should be documented (words that encourage suicide, threats, insults that seem a little too specific for comfort) and give the evidence to someone you trust to look out for you. A therapist, a family member, or even the authorities if you deem that necessary. Just don’t handle it alone.

We are not responsible for other people’s actions, opinions, or anger. Take the steps to protect yourself instead of trying to reconcile. Sometimes, reconciliation isn’t an option. Both parties have to be willing to reconcile, and it is clear they have nothing in mind but hurting us. So raise your shields and protect yourself and your friends, we’re not gonna lose a war to petty jerks.

[azulapropaganda]

Hello everyone. Today (August 2nd 2020) I noticed a blog who earlier tried to accuse me of being a terf has once again made another post about this. This time she accused me of some other things and since her post suddenly started gaining attention, I decided to clear some things up and reply to every single claim she makes in her post.

I’m genuinely tired of all of this.... So, there’s a insanely popular atla TERF (@what-would-azula-do) blogger that’s been attacking me and my friends, and she worked with a group of TERFs to ban my og spop blog. I literally just made this blog but I’m tired of getting attacked by TERFs, so I’m making a call out post (ew ikr) to end this.

I am not a terf. I did not work with a group of terfs to ban your blog, you did this to yourself by tagging your post with “terfs please interact”, “terfs do touch” and other tags. You’re attacking a minor with false claims that are easily debunked. I have not been attacking you or your friends, I don’t even know who your friends are. I specifically added the “please do not send op any hate” tag when I called you out so my followers wouldn’t harass you.

First off, what-would-azula-do is a pretty obvious crypto TERF. She reblogs and creates a ton of TERFy posts that might flow off the radar of cis people, but directly harms trans people. She constantly reblogs and makes exclusionary feminist posts that exclude trans women, and use TERF rhetoric, and she doesn’t have any trans or non-binary mutuals. She also just posts full on TERF shit a lot, and whenever she gets called out she gets defensive and deletes the evidence. I got this info from an anonymous trans woman that pmed me, but she also used to just be a full on out TERF in 2016, and posted transphobic slurs and memes regularly, and also was a SWERF. Allegedly she deleted the blog and remade with her new main and the what-would-azula-do sideblog. Again this is just an alleged anon tip but I believe it. She also ships a pretty TERFy atla ship (tyzula) that à ton of TERFs on tumblr ship. Now I’m going to go to a huge pile of shit already, ONE OF HER MUTUALS IS LITERALLY AN OPEN TERF.

You say I reblog and create a ton of terfy posts. Which ones? I only talk about atla on this blog and actually make an effort to tag anything else as “off topic”. I don’t think I even made a post about feminism on my blog. You also say I don’t have any trans or nonbinary mutuals, do you have any proof of that? You contradict this claim further in your post (“Has trans mutuals even though she’s a TERF”). You say I post “terf shit” a lot, could you provide screenshots of that please? And according to you, “whenever” I get called out I delete the evidence. I got one anon once when I accidentally reblogged something from a terf I wasn’t aware I was following. I personally wouldn’t call my reply to this anon “defensive”. You say you got info from an anonymous trans woman that I used to be a full on terf in 2016 and that I posted transphobic slurs and memes regularly. In 2016 I was 13-14 years old and I didn’t even have a tumblr blog. I don’t even know how to address the tyzula thing. How is a ship “terfy”? And just because I reblog art, doesn’t mean I actually ship it? I reblog art of several ships just because I like the art.

Unholy-lesbian is one of what-would-azula-do’s TERF mutuals (she has about three crypto TERF mutuals too) that’s just a full on TERF. She was really into the TERF sphere a month ago but went crypto when she became mutuals with what-would-azula-do (probs to protect her crypto TERF identity) she said she’s not a TERF anymore, but she still reblogs TERF rhetoric and all her mutuals are TERFs. She also put TERF in quotation marks which means she probs thinks it’s a slur, which is TERF rhetoric. She’s also a gold star lesbian which means she excludes trans women from her dating pool. I’d go into this bitch more, but this callout ain’t for her.

Could you please give me the usernames of my three cryptoterf mutuals? Look I’m not going to deny that unholy-lesbian was a terf a while ago. She told me this yesterday or two days ago when I talked to her about your post. She also told me she was done being a terf because the community was so hateful all the time. She’s 15 years old, don’t pull her into this.

I’m friends with her so she can find a welcoming and nice community in the atla fandom. She’s on the right path now, do you seriously want to go hate on her for this?

This is a lighting round of all the shit she did, and also her track of aphobia and ableism, so here we go:

I literally have autism and adhd myself.

Used the t slur on her old blog (alleged)

No I haven’t? Could you provide proof of this please?

Has trans mutuals even though she’s a TERF

You contradict this earlier in this post, once again without any evidence.

Misgendered an artist on what-would-azula-do and didn’t apologize

Who? I use “they” whenever I don’t know the gender of an artist. I wasn’t aware this ever happened and I’d like to apologize to said artist of this claim is true

Liked an aphobic meme

Which meme? Also my likes aren’t even visible.

Mutuals with an aphobe that bullied an ace kid off tumblr

Who?

Uses her queer followers as props to denounce her being a TERF

This is ridiculous. My followers know I’m not a terf so of course some of them are going to defend me and support me.

Gaslight her former nb mutual

Who?

Reblogged from a TERF with TERF in her username

Yes and I addressed this already. Someone sent an anon about this, I deleted the post, unfollowed the user I wasn’t even aware of following in the first place, and thanked the anon for telling me about this.

Said the r slur on her main

No I didn’t? Do you have a screenshot of or a link to this post? Also I literally have autism, as I have mentioned earlier on this blog.

Slandered a queer artist on what-would-azula-do

Who?

WORKED WITH TERFS TO DEPLATFORM ME (A NB LESBIAN OF COLOR)

I reported your post once because you were accusing me of untrue things and harassing me, a minor, and you were threatening to murder my followers. I didn’t work with terfs at all, they came to your post after you tagged it with “terfs please interact”

And what does your sexuality and gender even have to do with this?

Even if she wasn’t a TERF (which she is lol) she worked with TERFs to ban my blog that exposed her, which is violently lesbophpbic and nbphobic.

Your blog was banned because you were harassing a minor and throwing around false accusations, not because you are a lesbian or nonbinary. I did not work with terfs to ban your blog, as I have mentioned twice earlier.

So y’all really shouldn’t follow or support her anymore, unless you’re a TERF just like her. (Dm me for screenshots, I didn’t want to post them here since she’d just gaslight me)

Please post all of the screenshots you have in a reply to this post.

Also, could you stop harassing my followers. This is just incredibly gross behavior.

PREVIOUS POST

[seijorhi]

A Thousand Words

as promised, a Valentine’s Day fic 💕 

Oikawa Tooru x female reader, Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

TW implied dub/non-con, cheating, minor choking/abuse, nsfw(ish)

You break up with Iwaizumi two weeks before Valentine’s Day, standing in the doorway of the apartment you share with him.

And you hate that it still hurts, still tugs at the wretched, broken strings of your heart to watch that rare, beautiful smile of his fracture like glass, confusion giving way to disbelief and then finally anguish.

Iwa’s never been the best with his words, but it seems that you’ve robbed him of those too as you tell him that your relationship’s over. He just stands there, wide eyed, agonised as you shove your phone – the proof – into his face, a hoarse, strangled whisper of ‘why’ leaves his lips. 

It seems that it’s all that he’s capable of.

There’s nothing for him to say anyway. You don’t want his apologies or his excuses. The pictures are evidence enough. 

A boys weekend, he’d told you, and you’d trusted him. You loved him. He wasn’t like your ex, Iwa would never deliberately do anything to hurt you. 

He knew what fidelity meant to you.

You’d thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with him, but those pictures are enough to show you what a fool’s dream that was. Iwa, naked in bed, wrapped around some other woman.

Sleeping so peacefully, curled up by her side, like he’d done with you a thousand times.

And it doesn’t matter whether he was drunk or not. It doesn’t matter if he knew her or paid for her or found her at some fancy fucking bar downtown. He cheated on you, he broke your heart and he doesn’t get to watch you fall apart in front of him.

You save your tears until the door swings shut, collapsing onto the floor with a heartbroken wail as the man you love walks away.

—

Iwaizumi doesn’t remember much of that night. He’s never been a lightweight, but the drinks they were knocking back would’ve been enough to take out the best of them. And Iwa didn’t have to worry, not when he was out with friends. 

God knows they’d gotten him into so much shit when they were younger and stupider, but between the four of them they’ll stop each other from doing anything too damaging. They have careers now (most of them, anyway) and reputations to protect. And Iwa had you.

Out of everything; his career, his reputation, his livelihood, you were the one thing Iwa wouldn’t risk fucking up.

The night itself is a hazy, incomprehensible blur, but he does remember the girl. Not her name or where she came from, but he remembers her. A pretty face with a sultry smile, wearing some short, tight, shimmering dress. He remembers her sitting on Oikawa’s lap, fingers carding through his hair, red lips kissing at his jaw.

And he remembers Oikawa lounging back in his seat, barely paying the poor girl an ounce of attention, even when her hand started to run teasingly up his thigh, those same sinful lips whispering into his ear.

How the girl managed to find her way from Oikawa’s lap to his hotel bedroom is beyond him, but the pictures don’t lie. It’s his arm wrapped around her waist, her skin littered with love bites and fingerprint shaped bruises.

It was her mouth he’d woken up to, trailing a slow, teasing path up along his chest. He’d shoved her aside, snapped and snarled until the pretty thing welled up with tears and all but fled, leaving him to fall back into the sheets full of self loathing and disgust, wondering how he could possibly have fucked up this badly.

And when he threw up later, hurling until there was nothing left in his stomach, he knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d drunk.

Iwa hadn’t known that anybody knew, hadn’t thought that there was proof – not until you were shoving it in his face, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to keep your tears at bay. And what could he say? 

It was a mistake?

He was drunk?

Iwa doesn’t make excuses, you deserve more than that. You deserve more than him.

He should’ve fallen to his knees and begged – begged you through tears if he had to – for you to give him a second chance. But the words stuck in his throat, because the look of absolute, utter heartbreak on your face felt like a fist driving into his gut, and he wasn’t sure if he even deserved it.

You break up with him two weeks before Valentine’s Day, entirely unaware of the ring he’s been carrying around in his pocket for almost a month now, and Iwaizumi doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

So he does the only thing he can, and calls Oikawa.

—

Moving your things out of the apartment you’d spent the last year and a half sharing with your boyfriend – your ex-boyfriend – takes less time than you think. The life you’d started to build with him, packed up in nice neat little boxes in only a few hours.  

And you’re grateful that he’s not there. He’d messaged you to tell you that he wouldn’t be, the only contact you’d had with him since breaking up. 

It’s not the pictures on the nightstand, Iwa’s strong arms wrapped around you, a dopey little grin on his face that gets to you – it’s the World’s Best Boyfriend mug he’d bought you as a joke one day, the old hoodie of yours that was actually his, the one you’d worn half to death because it was warm and smelled like him. 

It’s hard enough to do this without him hovering over you, but stupidly you’d forgotten that while Iwa had promised not to be there, he wasn’t the only one with a key to your shared apartment.

The lock clicks and the door swings open just as you’re finishing up in the bedroom and for one single, split second, your heart jumps into your throat.

But the brunette that saunters in isn’t the one you’re still in love with, and you’re quick to brush away the tears on your face before he can see.

Before he can mock you for it.

Oikawa, ever the charmer, merely grins when he catches sight of you. 

“Did Iwa send you to supervise?” you say in lieu of a proper greeting, the words slightly more bitter than you intend – even for him. 

He isn’t bothered by it, his grin widening just a fraction as he turns and settles down on the bed, long legs stretched out, ankles casually crossed over. He looks entirely too comfortable there and it’s an effort not to bristle.

“Well hello to you too,” he says, his voice a teasing lilt. “Are you always this fun in the mornings?”

Your brows draw together in a frown, but just as you open your mouth to snap a retort, his palms come up in a gesture of mock surrender. “No, Iwa did not send me to supervise you. He doesn’t know I’m here, actually.”

“Then why are you here? To gloat?” you spit.

Oikawa’s eyes glitter, amusement tugging at his lips. You love Iwaizumi, and for his sake you’ve spent the past few years tolerating the constant, overbearing presence of his best and oldest friend. Oikawa, on the other hand has never made all that much of an effort to hide the fact that he doesn’t exactly approve of your relationship with his friend.

Oh, he’s never outwardly rude or hurtful. He doesn’t sit there and spew abuse at you, and as far as you know he hasn’t tried to sway Iwa into leaving you since the very early days of your relationship, but Oikawa doesn’t need to be overt to make his feelings clear.

He treats you like a one night stand that hasn’t quite gotten the hint that it’s time to fix your dress and move right along. 

You still haven’t forgotten the night you all went out to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday, how he’d slid into Iwa’s empty seat the moment he’d slipped out to get another round of drinks and spoken so casually, as if it was nothing but a friendly conversation. Small talk. 

“You know it won’t last; you and Iwa.”

And you hadn’t said a word, not wanting to be baited into fighting – into ruining Iwa’s night. You hadn’t even scowled at him, just sat there, pretending that he didn’t exist as you waited for your boyfriend to come back to you. 

“You’re cute together, I’ll give you that much,” he’d mused, swallowing the last mouthful of his beer. He’d studied you from beneath long lashes for a moment; a sharp, lingering look entirely at odds with the easy, relaxed tone of his voice. “But you two aren’t a good match. You don’t belong with him.”

You never did figure out exactly what you’d done to make him dislike you so much, but you suppose it doesn’t matter now. 

Not when he’s finally proven himself to be right. 

“Please,” he says with a scoff, rolling those pretty eyes of his, “as if I’d be so immature. I’m just here to make sure you don’t steal the coffee machine – it’s so much better than the one I have at home.”

He spends the next half hour trailing you from room to room, looking entirely too delighted at your misery. It’s almost a relief when you slip into the bathroom just for a moment’s fucking peace, brushing angrily away at the tears that still haven’t left you.

You almost – almost – reach for your phone to message Iwa and tell him to call off his stupid, infuriating friend, except you’d left it lying on the kitchen bench.

—

His head hurts. An incessant pounding, throbbing ache that makes him want to hurl.

Rationally, he’d known that the cure for the monstrous hangover he’d given himself wasn’t going out for a run at five in the morning, but he didn’t know what else to do. It was either that or keep drinking, and considering it was the alcohol that had gotten him into this fucking mess in the first place…

“I need to fix this,” he groans, dropping his head into his hands, letting his fingers roughly run through the tangles of his hair. “I need to fucking fix this.”

He looks like shit, feels like shit, but he can’t bring himself to care, not even as a solid weight drops itself onto the couch beside him. 

“You need to give her space, Iwa,” Oikawa comments with a sigh, passing him a glass of water that he gratefully chugs. “Give her time to figure things out. She’s hurting, and you constantly harassing her won’t do you any favours in trying to win her back.”

He wants to see the truth in his friend’s wisdom. He knows he hurt you, he knows he fucked up, but–

You’d already moved your things out.

He’d known that, of course he had, but coming home to see every trace of you just gone was like a gut punch. He was gonna marry you, get down on one fucking knee in front of everybody and– and now you’re gone and he’s crashing in his best friend’s spare bedroom because the thought of going home without you there is too fucking painful for him to bare.

And he only has himself to blame for it. 

But you’re his future, the only one he really gives a damn about, and he’s not one to just give up and walk away. Iwa doesn’t care if it takes weeks or months, he doesn’t care if he has to spend the rest of his life making this up to you; he will. 

He can’t just let you go. 

Oikawa continues to try and talk sense beside him, but he’s barely paying attention, only offering a small grunt of acknowledgement when he feels the brunette’s eyes studying him. He knows that he’s only trying to help, but he can’t honestly remember the last time Oikawa bothered to introduce him to one of the girls hanging off his arm. He knew as well as his friend did that there wasn’t much point – they wouldn’t be sticking around for long. Fuck, he doesn’t think that Oikawa’s ever had a serious relationship in his life, so excuse him if he’s a little hesitant to take his advice as gospel.

And Oikawa doesn’t know you like Iwaizumi does. He doesn’t understand you, doesn’t see what Iwa does when he looks at you. You’re like… sunlight. There’s no other way he can describe it. It’s cheesy and stupidly sappy, he’d rather be shot than admit it out loud, but he’s never met another person so–so… radiant. You burn bright, and Iwaizumi can’t help but be drawn to you – your warmth and your softness and everything about you. You’re beautiful and caring and you’re home and he’s terrified that if he waits too long, somebody else is gonna see that and snatch you up for themselves and he won’t even be able to blame them for it.

He knows he fucked up, knows that you probably (rightfully) hate him, but he has to try. 

So he ignores the way that Oikawa huffs and rolls his eyes when he reaches for his phone, opening up your last conversation.

Please, can we talk? I know you don’t want anything to do with me right now but I’m begging you. Just ten minutes?

And his heart pounds against his ribcage so violently that he thinks he might be sick as he waits for it to send. Waits for the little ‘Read’ notification to pop up.

And waits.

And waits.

Error. Message failed to send.

He tries again, distinctly aware of the Oikawa’s watchful, curious gaze peering over his shoulder.

Error. Message failed to send.

There’s a sinking feeling in his gut and in his panic, he presses the call button, bringing the phone to his ear with a sick feeling in his stomach.

It doesn’t even ring, there’s just three beeps and the line disconnects.

You’ve blocked his number.

—

You second guess yourself with every step, but you don’t stop and you don’t turn around. 

The radio silence from your ex had been a little unexpected, but you’d been the one to tell him in no uncertain terms that the two of you were done.

You were the one to make a point of moving out, keeping the few messages you’d exchanged short and to the point. Were you expecting him to fight you on it? Blow up your phone with messages and voicemails begging you to come back? Maybe show up at your door demanding that you hear him out and give him another chance. 

Were you maybe just the tiniest bit disappointed that he hadn’t? 

It wasn’t remotely fair to expect that of him, you know that, but you couldn’t help the way your heart had leapt into your throat the moment his message had come through after days of nothing.

Can we talk face to face? I need to see you. 

Two sentences, that was it. And you’d spent the better part of an hour debating whether or not you should reply.

Because you love him still, despite it all. 

The last person you’d given a second chance to had used that chance to walk all over you. He’d broken your heart, your trust, and any semblance of self worth you’d had. Iwaizumi had been the one to build you back up afterwards. 

And now he’d done the same thing. Knowing what you’d gone through before, and it gutted you.

The date on the calendar hasn’t slipped your attention. It’s Valentine’s Day, and you’d spent all morning trying to forget that if things were different, you would have spent the day with Iwa. He’d been secretive about his plans, tight lipped for once in his life, and there’d been some part of you that had wondered, hoped even… but instead you’re sitting alone in a hotel room, feeling miserable for yourself. 

If you were stronger, maybe, and if today were any other day, you might have ignored the message, the way those two brief sentences made your pathetic heart ache, but–

But… perhaps you had been a little too hasty when you’d broken it off. Iwa hadn’t said a word to defend himself, but you hadn’t really given him the option, had you?

Agreeing to meet with him wasn’t agreeing to brush it all under the rug. It wasn’t a promise of forgiveness, or even really an olive branch. It just meant that you would go to hear him out, that’s all.

Just to hear him out.

Yet your stomach’s twisting into knots as you walk up the familiar steps, your heart beating out an unsteady rhythm. You love him, despite it all.

You love him, but that doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you raise a fist to knock.

The smiling face that greets you when that door swings open, however, is not the one you’re expecting.

“Hey there, cutie. You’re early.”

Oikawa.

For one single, floundering heartbeat, confusion grips you. Why was he– was Iwaizumi not coming? Had you misunderstood the message, or… or had he changed his mind, backed down at the last second and sent his friend to hammer the final nail into the coffin of your failed relationship.

You didn’t think Iwaizumi would be the type, though. He’d never been cruel, he’d never been cowardly, either.

“I don’t… understand,” you breathe, wide eyes darting around as if you’re expecting your ex to suddenly pop up behind his shoulder and shove him aside with a growl, telling him to butt out of your relationship the way he had countless times before.

Yet Oikawa offers no explanation, that same stupid, infuriating grin widening as he steps back to let you in, and you, somewhat robotically, follow him inside. Your eyes flicker from his back to the apartment around you – it’s exactly how you left it last week, not a single thing out of place. 

“Iwa said–” but your voice falls silent as you realise that no, that’s not true. 

The door to your bedroom is ajar, soft, flickering light spilling out from the crack, but that’s not what catches your attention. It’s the rose petals on the floor, the dulcet music playing so quietly you’d missed it entirely. 

Your brow furrows, breath catching in your throat as you stare at the scene before you, utterly frozen. You don’t register Oikawa stepping closer, nor the dark hunger brewing in his eyes. None of this makes any sense, you don’t understand–

“Iwa’s not coming.” Long, delicate fingers grip your chin, tilting your face and before you can even draw breath his lips are pressing against yours. It only lasts a second, long enough for your lagging brain to register that Oikawa is kissing you, here, in the middle of the apartment you’d shared with his best friend.

Oikawa, who hates you. Who’s cupping your cheek, gazing at you with an expression so eager and wanting, so unnervingly wrong that it makes your heart clench in fear and your blood run cold.

His thumb brushes along the curve of your cheekbone,  “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

And then he’s grabbing at your hand, fingers entwining with yours as he tugs you towards the bedroom, and finally the shock wears off enough for reality to kick in.

“What the fu– Oikawa, get the hell off of me!” you snap, trying to wrench yourself free. But he’s stronger than he looks, and his grip merely tightens.

“Tooru,” he calls back, glancing over his shoulder with that impish, wicked little smirk. “I want you to moan it for me tonight. You can do that for me, right cutie?”

You’re not a violent person, you’ve never been the type to lash out with fists and blows, but something inside of you just snaps at his words, and before you can stop yourself, your open palm flies towards his face. 

Quick as lightning, Oikawa spins, catching at your wrist and slamming you up against the living room wall. A small burst of pain radiates through your skull from the impact, your breath forced from your lungs in a pathetic squeak as he boxes you in. There’s not a moment for you to catch your breath, though, not with his forearm pressing down on your throat just hard enough so that you can feel it. He’s always been taller than you, but you’d never considered him to be intimidating – not until he’s looming over you, teeth bared in that feral smirk.

“Oh, baby. If you’re not going to play nice, I won’t either.” His fingers tighten on your wrist, squeezing until a choked whimper slips out and he kisses you once more. Not soft or sweet, but bruising, teeth clacking, nipping and biting and harshly sucking at your bottom lip until you return it.

And when he pulls away, there’s blood on his lips – yours – and he licks it away with a satisfied little hum. “I put effort into this, you know,” he says, his tone almost conversational if not for the slight pant, the shivering undercurrent that laces every word. Oikawa leans closer, and you can feel the outline of his cock, hardening already as he presses it against you, rutting his hips ever so slightly. “Set the bedroom up nice and romantic for our first time together.”

He kisses you again, a sweet, tender peck, smiling when you part.

“But if you want me to fuck you here first, up against the wall, all you had to do was say so.”

—

The girl had been easy enough to convince to play along, which probably should have disgusted him. 

She looked like you; a cheap imitation, of course, but close enough. Oikawa could kid himself that it was for Iwaizumi’s sake, to sow the seeds of doubt in his head, but he knows as he forces her face down into the pillow, slamming his hips against her ass like a man possessed, that that’s not the whole truth.

But she served her purpose well enough, letting him fuck her, mark up that pristine skin with the same kind he’d seen littered across your neck and collarbones, your thighs–

And she’d still tried to kiss him the moment before slipping out of her robe and climbing into his best friend’s bed. Given him that playful wink, biting her bottom lip seductively as if she were anything but a means to an end for him. 

As if he hadn’t forgotten her name the moment he’d gotten those pictures.

Oikawa knows all about your ex and how that asshole treated you, out of all the possible scenarios he could have engineered, this would be the one that’d hurt you the most. He’d thought that you would fly off the handle, kick Iwa out for a few days and leave the door open just wide enough for him to weasel his way in, but you’d gone one step further. 

You’d left him.

Broken his heart completely, the way he’d broken yours. Oikawa couldn’t have planned it better himself, and oh what he would have killed to have been there to see it. 

And it’s not that he enjoys his best friend’s pain – truly, he wants Iwa to be happy, he does.

Just not with you. Not when you’re his.

It was easy enough to bully Iwa into revealing when you’d be coming over to pick up your things. Easy enough to rile you up to the point you’d run and hide just so he wouldn’t see you shed all those pretty tears.

Leaving your phone unattended. And really, it’s your own fault for choosing such an obvious passcode – how could he possibly resist?

You were none the wiser, his poor, unsuspecting little idiot. 

Yet for all your posturing and your badly concealed hurt, he’d known that you’d show up today. You’re a romantic at heart, and you’d let yourself be walked all over again if you thought it meant that somebody loved you, wouldn’t you?

You would’ve said yes when he’d gotten down on one knee, and when he’d come back to you with tears in his eyes, drowning in regret and you saw what a mess Iwaizumi was without you, you would have forgiven him – even if it meant giving him the power to break you all over again.

Oikawa honestly doesn’t know whether he should admire or pity you for it.

It hardly matters now, he supposes. Not when you’re so beautifully wrecked, lying nestled against his bare chest with those tears he adores spilling down your flushed cheeks. Every thump of your heart echoing his. 

He wonders if he should send Iwaizumi a picture. 

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Paper Cut Part 3 | Edmund Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Nothing but fluff! Seriously, it’ll rot your teeth. 

Time/Era: Modern AU but the Pevensies have still been to Narnia

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Exactly a year after meeting his beloved Y/N, Edmund introduced her to his family. 

Request: Can you please do a part three to paper cut... maybe where she gets to go to narnia? Or meet the rest of the pevensies? I loved that piece so much!

A/N: The long-awaited part 3 to paper cut!!!! Ahhh I love this AU so much, you have no idea! I’ve really been looking forward to writing this! Enjoy ~

Part 1 | Part 2 | masterlist | read on ao3

“Darling, when can I meet them?” Y/N said, laying on her stomach. She was on Edmund’s bed with her laptop sat afront of her. Edmund sat at his desk doing his own homework, his back towards Y/N.

“Meet who?” He turned around in his chair. He smiled looking at his girl lounging on his bed. “And don’t you have homework to be doing?”

“Peter, Susan, and Lucy!!” She rolled onto her back and stretched her limbs. “And it’s boring, so I decided to procrastinate it until the last possible second, thank you very much.”

Edmund’s smile grew fonder, and he stood up to join her on the bed. This year, he decided to move out of the university’s dorms and finally get his own apartment. It was small, but it beat living with a roommate he didn’t like. 

“Move over, let me sit on my own bed,” He pushed her side and she rolled like a log. 

“Hey!” Y/N giggled. “This is my real estate! Get your own!”

Y/N turned to face the now laying Edmund; their noses were less than an inch apart and he had a shit-eating grin on his face. It was the type of Edmund grin that only showed when he was genuinely happy. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle and his teeth show. 

“You are so beautiful,” Y/N said before she could stop herself. Edmund’s face twisted into a happy confusion. 

“Aren’t I the one who is supposed to tell you that?”

“Boys can be beautiful too, you’re living proof.” Y/N reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. His skin was soft under her touch, and she observed as it turned a rosy shade of pink. “I am so lucky you’re my soulmate. I got so fucking lucky.”

Edmund pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’m the lucky one, Y/N.” 

Y/N loved to see this side of Edmund; she was the only one who got to see it. He was usually rather ridged and introverted, a generally inward type of guy. So much so that at the beginning of their relationship, they discussed how PDA wasn’t really his thing. Outside of quick kisses or holding hands, the thought of being all over each other in public made him uncomfortable. Y/N respected his wishes, it wasn’t really her thing either. When they were alone, however, Edmund couldn’t keep his hands off of his love. 

He loved to study with her in the room. Knowing that his girl was close by gave him a sense of comfort when he was focused. And since they both had very hard majors, Y/N would most likely bring her own work. They never got very far into their work, though; favoring talking, kissing, cuddling, or sex to book work. 

“You never answered my question, Pevensie.” Y/N placed a quick kiss on his lips and sat up. She held her weight up with her arm while her legs folded to the side. 

“And what question is that?” Edmund’s eyes held a dazed look as he stared up at Y/N with his happy-Ed-smile and rolled onto his back. 

“It’s been a year and I haven’t met your siblings! You met mine! Hell, you’ve stayed at my parent’s house for New Year’s. Are you ashamed of me or something?” Y/N’s words sent an alarmed jolt through Edmund’s entire body. 

“Of course I’m not ashamed of you, my love! I just know how they tease me when you’re not around, so I know it’ll be a hundred times worse when they actually meet you.” He took a breath as Y/N giggled happily. His absolute favorite sound in the world was her giggle. “So it’s definitely not you.”

“What, you don’t want them to tell me embarrassing stories about you?”

“I’d like to avoid that, yes.” Ed leans back on his elbows. 

“You have homework to do, Mister.”

“I’d much rather do this than finish an 18 plage thesis,” His voice was cheeky. 

“Do wha-” Y/N was cut off by Edmund pulling her onto him. She situated her body so she was straddling his hips comfortably. “You’d rather have me straddle you than do your homework?”

His hands pushed the fabric of her shirt up so a sliver of skin showed. He ran his fingertips along it, watching goosebumps rise on her sides. 

“Have a hot girl on top of me or write a thesis? Hmm...difficult choice.” His eyes stayed glued to her stomach. Y/N couldn’t help but enjoy the view herself; his hair against the pillow, the slight scrunch of his eyebrows, his lips parted slightly...

“Perv!” She responded, swatting his hand from her stomach scar. 

They had a multitude of conversations about that scar during the past year; their scars seemed to be an easy talking point whenever they ran out of things to say. Like just last week, they had an hour-long discussion about a scar the cut through the pair’s eyebrow. Edmund was always very patient when explaining how the marks came to be, even if the memories weren’t always the most pleasant to relive. 

He shifted so his back rested against the headboard and his face was just barely lower than hers. Edmund tilted his head up to look into her eyes. “I’m a perv for wanting to spend time with my girl?” 

“I have to be on your lap to spend time with you?”

“Are you complaining?”

“No, not necessarily.” 

Edmund laughs under his breath before attaching his lips to Y/N’s. They always say kissing your soulmate is like a drug, that the taste of their lips and the feeling of them pressed against you was addictive. Y/N never really understood until she was able to kiss her soulmate whenever she pleased. Even small things, such as the smell of his neck or the concentrated look on his face while he was working, made her fall even harder for the boy. 

Her best friend had been surprised when she met Edmund. Apparently, he was nothing like what she expected Y/N’s soulmate to be like. She expected him to be loud and extroverted, someone who would balance Y/N’s reserved nature. But when she met Edmund, he was quiet, polite and just a hint sarcastic. She later revealed that she thought Y/N and Edmund would be one of the few soulmate matches that wouldn’t work out. Y/N was no longer friends with this person.

The very happy couple’s makeout session was cut short by a knock on the front door. Edmund pulled back and kissed her cheek. “It’s probably the neighbor asking for eggs again, I’ll be right back. Wait here.” He helped guide her off his hips and slid off the bed. 

Neither Y/N nor Edmund were exactly dressed to impress; they had agreed to catch up on their work and hang out before the term ended and they went on break. Edmund wore an old Rolling Stones t-shirt he stole from Peter when he was a teenager and a pair of gray sweatpants that laid a bit too low on his hips. Y/N wore a similar attire, including one of Edmund’s shirts, a pair of running shorts, reading glasses, and a messy bun. 

“Edmund!” Lucy’s voice filled Edmund’s ears as he opened the door. In the hallway stood all four of his siblings with big smiles filling their faces. 

“Lucy, Susan, Peter! Uh, what are you guys doing here?” 

“We wanted to see your new place!” Susan follows Lucy as she pushes past Edmund and into the apartment. Peter is quick to follow, shutting the door behind him. 

“Is that my shirt?” He asks. Edmund tweaks the corner of his mouth awkwardly and trails the girls into his home.

“It’s so much roomier than you said on the phone,” Susan exclaims, walking into the living room. Edmund doesn’t say anything and follows his siblings around awkwardly. 

“Is this your room?” Lucy opens the door and notices Y/N sitting on the bed. She had resumed the work on her laptop and was sitting where Ed had once been, against the headboard. 

“Oh, hello, I didn’t know Ed had company,” She said, taking in Y/N’s appearance. Her eyes gloss over her form and land on the scar on her eyebrow. “Oh my gosh, you’re Y/N aren’t you?!”

Y/N, who was taken aback by the sudden acknowledgment, just nodded. Lucy began to swarm her with questions and saying how nice it was to meet her. Y/N, on the other hand, looked like a deer caught in the headlights until Edmund came into the room. 

“Lu!” He scolded, sending an apologetic smile towards Y/N. “You can’t just jump her!” He extends a hand towards Y/N and pulls her to her feet. Once she’s standing, the hand makes its way around her waist. By this time, Susan and Peter made their way into the room to see what the all commotion was about.

“Y/N, this is Susan. Lucy and Peter. Guys, this is my soulmate, Y/N.”

“Hullo,” Y/N said shyly. “Sorry I look like shit, wasn’t really expect to see anyone but Ed today.”

“Oh stop, you look gorgeous as always,” Edmund replied without thinking. Y/N’s face turned a bright red color. The rest of the Pevensies awed. 

“Wow, I never thought I’d live to see the day where Ed is actually nice,” Peter comments, crossing his arms and leaning back on his heels. 

Y/N felt small under the stares of the Pevensie siblings and judging my Edmund’s body language, he was as well. 

“Well, we better be off...We just came in to say hi.” Peter could sense the awkwardness in the room. 

“We just got here!” Lucy frowned. She looked about 19, but it was evident she was the most friendly and excited of the group. Susan seemed to be more like Edmund, while Peter fell somewhere in between Susan and Edmund. 

“Peter’s right, Lou. It looks like Y/N and Ed have someone homework to do.” She gestured at the laptops and textbooks. “Y/N, Lucy and I are having a girls day later this week, you should come. We’d love to get to know you a bit better.” 

“Yeah, sure, okay,” Y/N felt Edmund’s grip on her hip loosen. “I’d love to, thanks for inviting me.”

~

After they left, both lovers let go of a breath they didn’t know they were holding. 

“Oh no, they hate me!” Y/N grew sad. That was nothing like what she imagined meeting his family would be like. 

“Nah, they love you already. It was just awkward because they caught us off guard.” Edmund sat on his computer chair and pulled Y/N so she was sat horizontally on his lap. 

“I look a mess, I acted a mess! This is awful!”

“Baby, you did great.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “They love you, and I love you. It’s okay. You’ll remeet them soon, and it’ll go smoother. I promise.”

“Why were they here in the first place?”

“To see the apartment, I guess. They like to drop in sometimes.”

Y/N kissed his lips and got off of his lap. “Well, they were quite nice. Lucy is very friendly.”

Edmund chuckled under his breath, “Sorry about her. She gets like that when she’s excited. She’s been dying to meet you.”

“She has?”

“Of course, she asks every time I talk to her. And hey, I guess this answered your question from earlier!”

“Wow, I hope lived up to her expectations.” Y/N responded, picking up her laptop and closing it. 

“You worry too much, darling.”

“I suppose I do.” Y/N placed the laptop on Edmund’s desk. 

He sighed and turned to his own computer. “I guess I have to write this thesis now.”

“Nerd,”

“Hey! I’m not a nerd! You’re a nerd!”

“Well, this nerd loves you, nerd!” Y/N resumed her place on the bed without a care in the world.

“I love you too, nerd! Now do your work, I’m not the only one who has to study!” A small second of silence fell over the room.

“Make me.”

Edmund paused and slowly turned around in his chair. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them and his mouth was formed a smirk. “Oh, don’t mind if I do.”

[allhailthecoffeegods]

Chapter 2

And now we’re back to the present, Nettie sitting on her office floor surrounded by empty energy drinks and coffee cups plotting Gabe’s downfall. Unfortunately for her the guy own a massive fashion house and if she just takes him out quickly it’s going to have a negative affect on not only his son who is an naive, spineless dumbass (who doesn’t deserve this shit no matter his unfortunate lack of brain cells) it will have backlash on all of the companies investors, workers and their families.

So what is extremely sleep deprived Nettie’s best idea on how to handle such a situation? Why of course it’s to hack into Bruce Fucking Wayne’s security and video call him, duh, because he’s super rich and is actually a good guy if you overlook the fake Fuck boy persona that is ‘bRuCiE wAyNe’. He’d definitely be able to buy fucking gabe out meaning before the hawk bitch knows what’s happening she’ll swoop in and grab the miraculous during his temporary weakness. Simple.

What she didn’t expect was for Red robin to be on her screen in what looks like a cave instead of Bruce....

“What the FUCK!” A guy dressed in red amour and a domino mask yells in English as the call connects.

“....... um hi, my names kitty noir hero of Paris” she waves awkwardly to a speechless Red Robin.

“Urg hi, how did you just hack into the bat computer. And since when has Paris had hero’s?” Red Robin finally responds.

“Since three years ago when Hawkmoth first attacked... where’s Bruce wayne???” She asked hesitatingly and very much confused.

“Why do you want Bruce Wayne? And who is Hawkmoth?” He asks in a slightly panicked voice. She’s not sure why he’s panicked but she just ignored it and responded with

“I wanted to speak with him because I was finally able to track down the supervillain Hawkbitch *cough* moth and his partner Mayura and get there identities. But unfortunately he owns a huge fashion company and if i take back the miraculous that give him the powers to take Paris emotionally hostage by turning them into deadly monsters if they have a bad day, his son and employees and there families with all go down with him. So like I was sitting here with file in hand with no idea what to do. You see I’m 16 and have nobody... like no one at all and I don’t know how many days it’s been since I last slept, and I thought well who has a big company and is a good person who might be able to help either take the company from under gabe or even just have advice on the best way to do business stuff like this without fucking people over and well I thought Bruce Wayne....”

“........................”

“So yeah but some how I must have mixed something up and called you instead. But like that’s cool cause your a vigilante correct? Non and well I’ll take anybody at this point. But I definitely still dislike the justice league for ignoring my calls for help and would prefer for any meta human or someone who doesn’t use strong emotions to power them to stay out of Paris till he and his partner are defeated because I’d surly die if they because Akumatised! Like no way I’d have a chance at beating them so like me go spat and it’s quite literally the end of the world ya know? Oh hey is Batman there I’m sure he could help, oh and I do have proof btw like seriously and entire apartment full of evidence if you want I can send it over cause like maybe you won’t call me a joke this time?”

“........ Holy shit............ um hang on a moment let me just gather the team up.....”

The only sound herd for a few minutes is Red Robin typically at lightning speed, until he touched his earpiece and started speaking.

“Hey um B, we have a situation that requires urgent attention”

“...”

“Yes, that would be great. Could you make sure everyone is in the cave suited up in 10 minutes”

“...”

“Urg no I believe that this situation needs to take priority right now, like world ending scenario”

“...”

“Okay see you in 10”

Red robin looked back over towards her and gave a small sad smile before saying “ I just managed to get past a pretty big media block for Parisian news and from everything you’ve said and everything I can see right now, it all appears to be true. No footage is doctored, so can you please explain as to why there is no extensive property damage after these battles you have?” Red robin questions looking more and more confused.

“The miraculous cure of the ladybug reverses all damage caused by a miraculous once the Akuma, a butterfly corrupted by magic, has been purified” she smiles happy that finally someone seems to be on her side.

“Wait. Reverses EVERYTHING like even...” he drags out in shock

Her smile drops “Yeah even death, it’s really bad that at least everyone here has died once even me but past me came to future me with one of my possibly future teammates bunnix (cool guy) who has the power to time travel so I could fight and revive dead future me but is now present time me” I explain slowly.

Red robin just blinked. Mouth open staring at her. Feeling a little uncomfortable she kept going.

“Syren was the first extreme Akuma to be created, she was a young girl on a swimming team and her crush ditched her to go to the movies with another girl. Becoming possessed by the Akuma she cried so much it flooded the entire city with only 200 or so out of 2 billion citizens making it to the roof tops in time. Those who die don’t remember so everyone else refuses to bring it up unless to a therapist but there’s currently not enough of them for the entire city. I did manage to create an app which showcases a whole range of things to help with mental health like meditation and emergency suicide hotlines that are open to calls 27/7” she states trying to reassure the very horrified vigilante that looks like he’s about to be sick, ah wait.... yeah he just threw up. Oh no.