#trust me when i say me physically walking into my local precinct is different than a request online

[weebsinstash]

Wait hold on when did I threaten you anywhere? I just wanted to talk is all I wasn't going to harm you in any way nor did I say i was. I never sent you any threats. If you think i threatened you, you made that up in your own head. If you wanted me to go away and not come back you should have just said so? It's not really harassment if you never told me not to come and I didn't knock on your door to bother you. I just waited outside and you never told me to go away or that you didn't want me there. I have never ever sent you a physical threat. Idk what 'evidence' you're talking about but I never broke the law anywhere in this situation. Your address is publicly available information btw

I think there's actually a legal precedent for me to tell you to go fuck yourself and leave me alone at least one last time before i officially press charges

But

I've told you multiple times to leave me alone and I literally have DMs of the multiple, countless accounts you have contacted me on after being told to leave me alone. I even keep turning off anon asks so that you would have to create accounts so that every ask and instance of harassment can be directly linked back to you and you have created HUNDREDS of accounts like a total loser, literally everyone has no idea why you're still doing this, we just started assuming you were deeply mentally ill and becoming concerned

First off we both know you weren't outside, you most likely don't even know how to drive or can afford your own gas, but you still threatened being outside a previous address and have threatened to come and see me multiple times and that's still very much a threat, very much illegal in the context of your actions

"Public information?" You don't even know how these topics work. You found an old post on an old blog from years ago, a PayPal link containing ONLY my full name which beyond that one post on a completely separate blog was never posted elsewhere, which you then started sending my full name around to strangers attaching it to both my blogs where it was not public, you've reuploaded my pictures to other websites, made other accounts using my face and name, and then you proceeded to make a public records request using that name and then MESSAGED OTHER PEOPLE AND MADE POSTS WITH AN OLD ADDRESS AND MY FAMILY MEMBERS' NAMES and then you have the nerve to fuck around and send an ask that you're outside what you genuinely believe is my current fucking home?

It would literally be quicker for me to tell you the things you did that DIDN'T break the law you dumbass fucking teenager. alleged teenager anyways; to be blunt the reason i only still believe you're young is because you're quite frankly a fucking idiot with no life experience and it shows. I literally still have screenshots of the last time you made a fake dating profile with my stolen picture, which, you're also reuploading my family member's pictures which is also fucking illegal

I also want to point out

EVERYONE LOOK AT THIS ABSOLUTE FUCKING MORON

"We're not even in the same state, you can't get me arrested, publicly spreading your private information on a public platform against your consent isn't illegal" oh my god you should have died in the womb, the cope is always turned up to 200 with you, do you take a medication for that. I'm literally fucking baiting you into deeper incriminating yourself and you are so far up your own ass you think I'm just falling for your pointless rage bait. I've literally told you multiple times that you could literally just Google how you reuploading my photos and even slightly implying you're me is a crime and then you're doing that on dating sites which has undertones of sexual violence and now your cringe ass is trying to use IP grabber links as if you didn't literally tell me how many miles away you were and that's kind of all I need

You've already threatened me. I've already told you to leave me the fuck alone. You literally impersonated multiple people and were still told to leave me alone. Even when you deactivate these accounts, these asks still sit in my inbox, the DMs of you admitting you broke the law are still easily accessible to me, the screenshots still in my phone, the records in tumblr's databases leading back to your registration email, so on so forth. You also keep harassing other people. Countless other people are fucking tired of this. Since I DO know what's legal to outright say to you I won't say what I'm sure many of us are thinking but, small dogs bark the loudest, and also, you're a coward, and a raging misogynist, and I pity the relationship you must have with your family that you spent your Christmas thinking about me

Fuck off and also eat your own shit and apologize to your parents and also take up staring into the sun as a hobby

[diego-hargreeve2]

light in the dark

Part Eighteen

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (Netflix)

Ship: Diego Hargreeves x Original Character

Warnings: Language, abuse (emotional and physical), mental illness, violence and, in later chapters, smut.

In the Brethren they made their own clothes. Eve had few talents, but she knew how to sew, and how to knit. Diego’s clothing was full of holes – she could only assume caused by other people given that he wielded his own knives with a precision she found both slightly terrifying and incredibly arousing at the same time – and she’d persuaded Paula at the shelter to lend her a needle and thread to let her fix a few of the worst. After seeing her repairs, she had become the go-to person for taking up hems, stitching up holes that would let draughts in, and fixing the wear and tear in clothes you get from living on the streets. She was happy to do it in truth, to feel useful and because it was one of the few activities from her childhood she still enjoyed, finding peace in the simple task where you could measure your progress in such clear ways.

On the basis that she expected Diego to swing by at some point she was sat in what the shelter called a ‘foyer’ – hardly more than a wide hallway in truth by the front door – and keeping an eye out for arrivals so she could call somebody actually qualified to help that. Eve expected anyone who walked through to be…well, like her. In need of a shower, wearing clothes that prized function over fashion, and looking for somewhere safe to put their head down.

She didn’t expect Detective Patch.

Her head lifted before her eyes as she finished the stitch and pulled the thread taut before looking up – and staring, stunned.

“Eve? What’re you doing here?” Eudora asked, frowning in confusion. In one hand she held a poster, details of a missing teenager she’d been handing out to every shelter in her precinct in hope of finding the boy before somebody with less honourable intentions.

“I live here” she explained, mentally kicking herself for the answer - that was far more than she needed to have revealed, more than she should have revealed. Placing her needle down she lifted one hand, twisting it behind to grab the phone that sat on the desk. Leaving Eve here helped free up a staff member to cook, to clean, to talk to those who had nowhere else to go – but they would answer when she hit the buzzer that rang through the building.  

“You live here?” Eudora repeatedly, her voice full of pity and sorrow at the concept. As shelters went, this was a good one – when she found people who needed help, it was her preference to bring them here. It relied on charity but was better funded than some, and there was no religion or sanctimonious cruelty in its walls, but it was still intended to be a temporary shelter not a long-term home. Eve shrugged, one finger holding the button down that set off a buzzer and an older woman bustled through, lighting up with a far more welcoming smile than Eve had offered.

“Eudora my dear! How are you?”

It had been a long day and a friendly face was a relief at this point. Detective Patch handed over the poster, discussing in low tones what she knew about the teenage runaway and her concerns. What she wanted was to know where he was, and to know he was okay – she wouldn’t force him back home, there were other options, but first she had to find him.

“If he shows up, we’ll call” Kathy assured her, one hand reaching out to squeeze Patch’s elbow gently. “I’ll put this in our back office – wouldn’t want to scare him off by hanging it up out here”.

“Thanks Kathy” she said, a weary smile crossing her face.

The woman left, disappearing into the shelter, and Eudora considered Eve – it hadn’t escaped her notice that the blonde had watched their entire interaction out the corner of her eye whilst pretending to busy herself with a needle. Only when Patch faced her directly did Eve drop her gaze back to her lap, silent and waiting for the door to swing shut and mark her exit. Except Patch had a different idea. Walking over she stood directly before Eve.

“This was the last stop of my shift – and I’m far too tired to consider cooking. Fancy coming to get a bite to eat with me?” she said, trying to keep the offer light and avoid sounding like she was taking advantage of a chance to interrogate the other.

Eve looked up with a gaze full of wariness. Patch had seen that look a lot – in stray animals when she was a kid, cats she’d tried to tempt with meat scraps so she could trap them and take them to be fixed, in children whose parents emphasised their points with fists, in women who didn’t understand that love isn’t accompanied by scrapes and bruises. It still broke her heart; she had never grown used to it.

“Why?” she asked after a moment.

“I hate to eat alone in public – plus I know a place that sells the best fried chicken” Patch joked, but there was no answering smile and she sighed. “Because you’re Diego’s girl, right? And Diego…is an old friend. I’m probably the person whose known him longest who isn’t family. So, I’d like to get to know you”.

Dropping her gaze back to her idle needle Eve considered. Put like that, it did make sense. Eve hadn’t done a good job so far in integrating herself with his friends, and the suggestion tugged at the guilt she felt over her difficulty in making friends. And Diego trusted Patch…

“Okay. I’ll come along. Give me five minutes” Eve said after a moment, unravelling herself without dropping her stitching and disappearing through the door.

When she returned – wearing her coat, the parka huge on her and half hiding her hands even with the sleeves folded up and followed by another volunteer to take up her position on watch – she was secretly hoping Eudora would have gotten bored waiting – but no, there she was, lounging in the seat Eve had vacated and she stood up rapidly.

“So…where are we going?” Eve checked, hovering by the desk.

“It’s called the Chicken Hut – it doesn’t sound much, but trust me” she assured the other, wondering why the name mattered – but she got her answer in a moment. Eve touched one hand to the desk, ensuring she had the young man’s attention and offering a faint smile.

“If Diego comes by – tell him where I’ve gone?”

“Sure thing Evie” was the response, the volunteer already putting his feet up and opening a book, happy for the break.

As they walked out the building Eudora gestured to her car, although in truth the distance could have been walked. Then she’d have had to walk back though – and frankly, she preferred to keep her cruiser close by.

Once they were both in and buckled up, Patch couldn’t resist the urge to ask, “So – Diego just expects you to be there whenever he shows up?”

Put like that Eve knew it sounded pathetic and she blushed hotly.

“I don’t…I generally don’t have anywhere else to go. It’s more that…he’d be worried, because me not being there or at his place would be weird”. Patch had expected Eve to sound defensive, maybe even annoyed, but her tone was apologetic and ashamed instead. It wasn’t the reaction she expected, and it made her feel guilty for the question – so she lapsed into silence as she figured out her next words. The journey passed without another word, but it was so short that the silence barely had time to grow awkward before Eudora was parking up.

Her greeting to the hostess – an old friend, she knew the manager of the restaurant who was close with her mother – and being seated broke up the quiet and once the young girl had walked away, she turned back to Eve.

“So tell me about yourself – Diego’s been characteristically close lipped” she joked; banter involving Hargreeves had worked before after all. Today however Eve shrugged, twisting her fingers together in her lap.

“He’s just…private. And so am I” she admitted, her unhelpful answer provoking a sign from Patch.

“Your accent isn’t local – I’d guess…Montana?”

“Idaho. So close” she admitted.

“How long have you been in the city?” 

Eve lifted her gaze, eyeing Patch at the question, wondering why it mattered. Even telling herself that Diego trusted this woman, that she was her friend, old habits died hard and she was suspicious of a detective prying into her life. For a moment she watched, fighting the two instincts inside, before turning her attention back to her lap as she answered.

“A year…and a few months? I think six months…eighteen months altogether?”. Enough to see a cycle of seasons before she ran into Diego by chance, and then the time they’d shared together.

It was like pulling teeth – but Patch was used to asking questions of people who didn’t want to answer. Normally however those people were handcuffed to the table, and she could raise her voice to make a point. Eve was free to go, had done nothing wrong – Patch couldn’t even say her efforts to rebuff the attempts at friendly were criminal or rude, everything she had guessed so far (and she put a lot of stock in her guesses) made it completely natural.

“But you’re still living in a shelter?”

At that Eve clammed up entirely. Explaining why she couldn’t get a job, couldn’t rent a property, was skirting too close to things she didn’t want to share. Patch saw it happen, like blinds dropping behind her expression, and pressed on anyway.

“Evie – do you prefer Evie?” Everyone else seemed to use the nickname, even though the blonde introduced herself as Eve, but the only response was shoulders lifting and falling again, “I’m sorry if I’ve…well, I don’t even know. I’m just trying to be friendly. I see a lot of people in positions like yours and-”

“And kicked them along like garbage?”

That raised eyebrows.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a cop. I know cops” Eve said, unable to meet Patch’s eyes despite the bitter edge in her voice – if she looked up, she would lose all courage. “They act like you sleep on the street for your own amusement, move you along to keep shopkeepers happy, treat you like you’re garbage...like you’re an eyesore instead of a person”.

There was a beat of silence, Patch ensuring she replied calmly rather than provoke Eve’s visceral emotional reaction. 

“I’m not that kind of cop”, her voice gentle but insistent. “And I’m not here as a detective. I’d like to be your friend”

“Why? You don’t know anything about me”

“I know Diego likes you – and he’s particular about the company he keeps. It’s enough to be a starting point”.

The waitress returning to take her order was a welcome respite, a break in the tension that crackled between them. Eudora ordered rapidly, noting the way Eve shook her head slightly and doubling her own dinner – if Eve wouldn’t eat it, somebody would. As she walked away Patch looked back to her, trying to figure out how to get through to her. After all – she had cracked Diego. She had to be able to find a way to reach Eve.

“Diego runs around this city in a spandex costume pretending to be a superhero and throwing knives at criminals”. Eve didn’t want to laugh at that description and yet despite herself amusement twitched at the corner of her mouth – and Patch noted that. It was a better reaction than resentment.

“I’ve never locked him up – well. Yet” she said, testing the humour again.

“He’s helping people” Eve insisted, admiration and adoration was clear in her voice.

“Which is why I ignore his antics most of the time. I joined the police to help people – and I’m sorry you’ve had different experiences with cops” Patch said. Eve looked up; head tilted to one side as she scrutinised the other woman.

She looked sincere…and soft. It was a look she saw on the faces of shelter volunteers, but she had never seen a police officer wear the expression. It helped more than any words. There was no question to answer but she nodded very slightly, the movement more about accepting the kindness being offered than agreeing with any sentiment.

“He won’t be happy if he hears you called it a costume” she said. Diego was their common ground and making a joke would him was a safe way to talk Eve figured – safer than sharing her past, however well-meaning Patch’s intentions.

“He’s heard me say it before”, the comment casually dismissive and confident than even if Eve were to report it back, Hargreeves would forgive the remark – from her at least. Confidence can be dangerous though, and relaxing a little Patch pushed forward.

“My point is – I’m not here to punish you. I’d like to help. Even if it’s just by giving you a friend to talk to. I mean – he’s a good guy, but I know how much patience a relationship takes with him. I just figure…talking to somebody who gets it…you might find it helpful”.

It wasn’t like Patch to slip up or fail to spot warning signs – but she had glanced away as she composed her words, and she missed the way Eve looked up sharply as she alluded to the past between her and Diego.

Her blue eyes snapped up, her whole-body tensing.

“You know?”

sorry our beloved knife boy doesn’t make an appearance in this chapter - he’ll show up again soon though dont worry

@lovinglydiego @reblogserpent @klausbutgayer @me125 @fatbottomedcurls @rhymesmenagerie @mrsdiegohargreeves @carryon-doctor-lock