#actually... if I edit out *my* swearing...

[thejujvtsupost]

It’s Always Been You

🍎F!reader, pet names: (pip/squeak, my girl, sweetheart,) suggestive but not smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief miscommunication and lots of groveling but it works out.🍎

Notes: I struggle with editing. This is totally separate from canon bc I’m heartbroken. It’s also my first lads fic, I’ll ALWAYS be a Sylus girlie but Caleb broke my brain for a minute 😭

Caleb joining the DAA wasn’t the problem at hand…No, it was the fact that you were going to be separated. Spending his last night before he leaves wrapped around each other like you always did when things were tough was the best comfort you could get.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, do you really have to go?” This was going to be the longest you’ve ever been apart since you were kids, and even worse, he wasn’t allowed to have his phone.

This wasn’t any easier on him but he couldn’t just back out. “I’ll be home before you know it, don’t worry too much.” Caleb brushed the hair from your eyes and held you closer, “plus, you get to have six months free of my constant nagging.”

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say, the tears you were holding back finally fell. Your hands that were originally wrapped around his waist were now at his chest, between your bodies and fisted tightly in his shirt. “But I love you and your nagging!” You inhaled like you were suffocating. Perhaps you were, under the weight of his impending absence.

“Shh I know, I love you and being a pain in your ass.” That earned him a wet chuckle. “I swear, as soon as I’m home I’ll fulfill my promise and I won’t leave your side. You’ll never have to worry again, about anything.” A soft kiss to your temple solidified his vow.

It took you a few long moments before you were able to get in a proper breath and process what he said. “You made a promise?”

“Don’t remember? Hm that won’t do. Think back to when you were 18, and that boy you had a crush on rejected you and broke your heart.”

“I’d prefer not to remember that, actually.”

“But remember after? When you still hadn’t come home by dinner and I found you alone at the park?” Large hands ran down the length of your back to help soothe you while he spoke.

You’re still lost but it’s coming back to you. Confessing to your crush in the park was supposed to be perfect— except he not only rejected you, but he made fun of you. You could respect rejection, but the way he humiliated you and made a scene wasn’t something you wanted to think about. “That day was awful.”

“You were so upset. I wanted to beat him to a pulp but you didn’t want to be alone. Remember what I told you? The pinky promise we made? It’s only been four years you know, I’d hope your memory isn’t that bad yet.”

The moment flooded you then with a gasp, ‘You’ll never be alone as long as I live sweetheart, and when it’s time, when I finally graduate and become a pilot, I swear I’ll marry you myself to prove it.’ And at the time it made you giggle, because surely he was just joking to cheer you up, right? “You meant it?”

Caleb chuckled and lifted your chin to look at you directly, “of course I did, it’s always been you and me. Don’t you know that?”

A fresh wave of tears formed as you surged forward to meet his lips with yours- and stopped out of embarrassment before you could make contact. “Sorry, I didn’t- I think I’m just being emotional—”

But the space between you closed once again and before you could overthink it, Caleb was kissing you the way he’s wanted to for years. His lips were all consuming and tender. His palm cupped your face like it was glass and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through his hair. Kissing Caleb felt like home, like everything was right.

He tried to break away to bring you both air but you refused to let him, instead pulling him closer and closer until he was on top of you, spreading your legs to accommodate his size. “Slow- slow down, you still need oxygen.” You shook when he started dragging his kisses down your throat, letting out soft moans when gentle sucks were left behind.

“C-Caleb…”

He pulled back and grew tense as if he was afraid he scared you away, “what’s wrong, you tired?” He was trying to give you an out if you wanted it.

You were certain your cheeks were flushed, you shook your head. “I want… more…”

Caleb groaned and buried his face in your neck “you’re killing me, Pip.”

Had you said something wrong? “Sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I’ll just-” you loosened your arms from around him, thinking you somehow embarrassed yourself yet again.

He stopped you. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re killing me because you have no idea how badly I want you; how long I’ve wanted you.”

“Really?” Having someone like Caleb love you was the best feeling, but him being attracted to you left you wanting him even more.

Deciding to just show you, he ground his hips into yours. And god, it felt good against you. Just that little bit of contact felt better than anything you ever achieved on your own. “You’re-” hard went unsaid. He grunted when you spread your legs wider for him. “Yeah, I am. And if you want me, then you have me. But you can’t take it back, so if you’re not ready for that commitment…”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“This really isn’t the time for that—”

“Shut up, it’s important.” He sighed and let you continue. Your arms dropped from his neck to hold his face in your hands, brushing the stray hairs from his face. “That guy I had a crush on? I only liked him so much because he reminded me of you. So I’m yours, too. If you want me, then you can take me.”

Words were lost on him so actions took hold, “are you sure?” His kisses resumed their path after meeting your lips, the room grew hotter with each new brush against your skin.

“I trust you, Caleb,” you had no idea your neck was so sensitive, your gasps talking for you. “but I should let you know I’ve never done this before.”

“I’d kill anyone who ever touched you if you had”

“Isn’t that hypocritical? Should I hunt down your past lovers?” You worked his shirt over his head, the dog tag necklace you gave him mere hours ago dangled in front of your face.

He chuckled and discarded your top, your sleep shorts were next. “It’s funny how you think I’d ever want someone that isn’t you.” His revelation hit you full force: he loves you so deeply, there’s truly no doubt to have. “I’d never do this with anyone else.”

Two things happened that night: your bond was solidified, and unbeknownst to you, a life was created

The goodbye was brutal the next day, already missing him terribly before night fell again.

You managed to fall into a routine, though. You would go to work, occasionally spend time with friends— Tara spent the night with you at least once a week to keep your mind off of things; and the days she didn’t you laid in bed desperately wishing he would be by your side.

Your routine was solid, until a month into your separation when you were sick almost every single day. You were fed up by the time a week passed and the day after that you made your way to visit Zayne- who congratulated you because in his words, ‘he and his wife were expecting as well, perhaps they’ll be friends, too.’ Finding out you were pregnant without Caleb with you was difficult, there wasn’t a way to reach him and share the news.

But you weren’t alone anymore. You spent the time you felt lonely talking to your baby now, who definitely couldn’t hear you yet but that didn’t matter. You were kept company with a perfect blend of you and your Caleb.

According to the official statement released last week Caleb would be home any time today, any minute, any second.

The anticipation left butterflies in your tummy, your baby moving with your nerves. It didn’t occur to you that he might not be happy to be a father, that you might’ve been presumptuous that he’d be ready to care for another life so soon.

And when the door flew open, as much as you wanted to jump into his arms (carefully, of course,) you held your breath and waited for him to notice. And of course, because he was your Caleb, it was right away. His happiness and relief fell away to shock and— was that anger? You didn’t expect anger…

“Welcome home, I—”

“Who else has been here?”

“What? I mean Tara has been keeping me company a few times a week but that’s it.”

“What man has been in our home, pipsqueak.” He didn’t phrase it as a question, just a demand. He’s never been so terse with you…

His tone made you anxious, “No one, other than Zayne and his wife for dinner occasionally— Caleb what are you talking about?”

Caleb dropped his bag on the floor with a thud, still not moving from his spot. “I’m talking about the fact that I came home after six months and you didn’t seem to miss me at all, nothing like the way I missed you. How else would you be pregnant? So who is he? Someone from the Hunters Association?”

Oh… he thought… “Oh my god how could you think- I’d never cheat on you Caleb— EVER how could you even think—”

“Well, I certainly couldn’t have knocked you up in the time I’ve been away.”

A knife cut through you at his words, the accusation, the betrayal of thinking you’d ever be with anyone else. And how vulgar it was… Did your first time mean so little? Was it something he just wanted to get out of the way before he left? A sob escaped you, tears spilled over. “You’re an asshole, Caleb.”

His eyes went wide, “I’m the asshole here?”

“Yes! You’re a fucking asshole! I expected you to be shocked but accusing me of cheating on you? Thinking that night was nothing? That’s low. I can’t believe you!”

“That night means everything to me!”

“Ask me how far along I am! Go on, fucking ask!”

That stopped him short, “you mean?”

“SIX MONTHS!” Standing there while he dropped to his knees was barely satisfying. “God I can’t stand you right now! You must’ve lost your damn mind and all your common sense!”

His silence was angering you further, stomping off to the kitchen for a drink of water and trying to calm down was a better use of your time; crying from this much stress wasn’t good for you.

Once he gathered himself he followed you, “Sweetheart… you’re telling me that night…”

“Finally used your brain, did you?”

“I’m so, god I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” His hand reached out to bring you in for a hug but you denied him.

“Do. Not. Touch me.” His audacity made you seethe. No way were you going to give in so easily no matter how much you desired to be in his embrace and reassured.

“Sweetheart—”

“You’re sleeping on the couch. We can decide what to do later.”

His emotions began to overflow, the guilt crushing him; the ring in his pocket practically burning into his flesh. “Decide what?”

“Decide if I should even let you stay.” Your throat felt tight but you continued to hold your sobs back. “Your dinner is in the oven by the way, it’s your favorite so I suggest you don’t let it burn.”

A few hours rolled around before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore hearing your sniffles. You hadn’t eaten dinner, who knows if you had any water, and no matter how (rightfully) mad you were, you still needed to eat.

Grabbing a few of your favorite snacks with a glass of juice instead of the untouched dinner he put in the fridge was his safest option, unsure if seeing the meal would upset you further.

“Pip squeak? I know you’re awake.” Crouching by your side of the bed and setting the snacks on the nightstand, “please talk to me?”

“Go away.”

“You know I can’t do that, you have to eat something.”

You poked your head from the blanket, “oh so you care now that you know it’s yours?”

The jab was deserved but it still earned a wince. “I’d still care even if they weren’t.”

“How noble of you. Sticking around to raise a kid that’s not yours before I even have a ring.”

“Who said I didn’t have a ring?” This time you accepted the comfort of his hand brushing your hair behind your ear and gently cupping your cheek.

Curiosity was a bitch, but you weren’t ready to forgive him yet. “You were really mean.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So sorry. I can’t imagine you being with anyone else but I didn’t expect to come home to a family either— and I’m beyond happy to be a dad. It’s not an excuse though, never okay to talk to you like that.”

A few leftover sniffles came before he pulled a tissue from the box on your nightstand, opting to dry your tears himself. “Blow,” He said, holding the tissue to help you blow your nose; then offering you the straw of the juice so you could hydrate.

“I missed you so much, I thought you’d still be happy to see me.”

“I’m over the moon, actually. But I hurt my girl, gotta make things right. Think you can forgive me? I’ll earn it forever.”

“Caleb if you ever, I mean ever, speak to me like that again I won’t hesitate to let you talk to the front door. You’ll be out.”

“I’ll cut my tongue out myself.”

“So dramatic as always.” You rolled your eyes, “you mentioned a ring?”

A smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “there’s my girl. You sure you still want it? Or should I earn it first?” He dug into his pants pocket to show you anyway.

“It wouldn’t hurt your efforts.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle fully before presenting the velvet box to you, “I’m pretty close to the ground but if you sit up for me I’ll get on one knee.”

Sitting up to stretch was good for your back anyway, “I think I’ve waited long enough.”

The velvet box opened and your jaw dropped, “picked it out in Skyhaven. Gideon and I helped the elderly owner of a small shop with some boxes he was struggling with in front of his door. Knew it was perfect right away, gorgeous and one of a kind like you.”

“You’re ridiculous, but I love it.” He slid it on your finger and sealed it with a kiss, and you fell into his arms like you’ve wanted to for the last six months.

Pulling away after many minutes of hugs, ‘I love you’s’ and kisses wasn’t welcomed by you. “Now, how ‘bout some dinner? I don’t think snacks are enough, they were backup. Gotta keep you healthy.”

“Did you like it?”

You were pulled to your feet and carried out of the room. “Didn’t eat without you, sweetheart. Having dinner without you and the baby felt empty.”

“Good. You can reheat it then.” You waited for the perfect moment to drop your bombshell, which happened to be when he was carrying a full glass pitcher of water for the table. “We’re having a daughter, by the way.”

The pitcher fell so fast his evol barely managed to catch it before glass hit the ground. It left you feeling smug.

You couldn’t help but cackle at his shocked spluttering, “A WHAT?”

I’m so flattered, I’ve never had so many people interested or had a taglist this long: @pixelcafe-network @kentochronicles @sashisuslover @lunia-likes-pomegranet @elli4ever @mysssticc @kaemaybae @kamisatoaiko @midiplier @jamseashell @llamabois @boba14 @crimsonspring @angrychinchillanoises @ali-shiii @kazbae95 @ifistoptherain @c-I-stinnett @nephelesthoughts @etherealzi @jjoppees @keithkoganeirl

All divider credits to me @thecutestgrotto

[mxnaceoo]

"𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀, 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀."

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆;; Platonic!fatherly?Ddajki man x younger!gn!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Growing up in an abusive household and with parents that are too selfish and drunk to look out for you leads you to chase love in the wrong people.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓/𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒::: possibly yandere!platonic!father salesman and DARKK!!!! mentions of abuse, y/n is mentioned here, reader is in 4th year highschool and grew up in an abusive household, stalking, murder, violence, abduction?, reader develops stockholm syndrome shortly--, A fight going on but HE came to resolve their problems "without" violence, ooc ig, small swearing, starvation, bruises, father gambles and mother is a cheater and an alcoholic, always arguing about bs, mentions of forced marriage, bottles, also hints in the fic that he's been stalking reader for a long time, picturing w/o consent, small mentions of sx trafficking & p3dophilia, mother giving you away to someone you weren't familiar with, he frames your mother of murder of her boyfriend and your father

a/n: ending is quickly written bc I was literally running out of time HAHAHAHA ----sorry for bad writing just got back to it BAHSHAAHABABA anywaysssss (EDIT: I think I took too long --- sorryyyyy 😭)

word count; 3,535 words.....

enjoyyy :))

-If disappointed, leave instead of sending hate comments.

________________________________________

"You look hungry, little one."

A male, older voice startled you out of thoughts, looking up at the man who approached you whilst he stared down at you with a gaze that made you feel eerie about him. But the feeling faded away when a soft and gentle smile appeared on his face. Or atleast that's what you thought.

He was good looking, clean, and probably looked way more older than you...maybe in his mid 30s, you thought...

The silence of both you and the man was killing, silence breaking when you spoke up.

"Do I know you, sir?" You asked, your tone laced with caution, holding your bag to your chest. Not used to some scenarios in your days that strangers would approach you and ask some questions like that because you think they don't care, know this is your first approach with a stranger you already think you're getting abducted now.

Well, not yet.

The man gives you a reassuring grin, and shakes his head.

"Oh no, it's just that your thin state caught my eye. Almost thought you haven't ate for awhile.."

You think, he cares...he cares? Yet you never met this good looking man in your life. You were about to say that you weren't hungry so that you wouldn't appear greedy to someone who looked wealthy, then he unexpectedly hands you..bread?

You stared at the bread, thinking if he was testing you or actually offering you bread generously...

"What? Never ate bread before?" The man interrupted your thoughts, the hand that held the bread never moving away from you and stayed in the same position.

You shook your head, "Sorry, uhm..." You were at loss for words, not knowing how to respond to a stranger giving you something. Like bread.

Feeling your stomach grumble, you shyly took the bread softly giving the man a "thank you, sir." With an shy but thankful smile at the man, in which he smiled back and replied with a "Your welcome, little one..have a good day."

He disappeared just in milliseconds, didn't bother to ask for your name...but neither did you. But you were thankful to have something to eat, it's like an angel answered your prayer.

After the man, disappeared from your sight. You then looked down at the bread given by him, it looks good and untouched. You carefully teared open the wrapper like it's an expensive gift before taking the bread out of its wrapper.

But you didn't eat it right away, you wanted to know first if the bread isn't expired, poisoned or like filled with anything that could kill you. Cautiously looking at the expiration date of the wrapper which is in two years from now, smelt the bread for any scent that isn't supposed to be in a good bread. After making sure the bread was completely untouched, you look a small bite..the taste of the bread hitting your taste buds, you began to eat more of the bread until you finished it. Happy that you have something to fill your stomach after your careless mother 'forgot' to prepare your lunch and didn't bother to give you any lunch money so you just sat in your classroom and starved while your classmates had something to eat.

You finally reached home, after waiting for a friend to walk home with you which their home is a few blocks away from yours. You both said their goodbyes and a "see you tomorrow!" Before going both your ways. Usually getting an eerie and strange feeling everytime and always, and you didn't know what it meant or how to deal with the feeling...the feeling of being watched and stalked.

Sometimes, when you're brain is feeling active you could hear a faint shutter in a very distance then you would turn around and find the origin of the sound coming from...only to find none.

Somewhere in the school garden, school gates, internet cafes. You rarely hear it at home.

Or so you thought.

You reached home, usually the quiet, melancholic home..the smell of alcohol filling your nostrils making you gag, passing the living room you saw your mother watching an adult movie with a stranger, probably her 100th boyfriend whilst both shared a feast of drinking a bottle of alcohol and no cups. You ignored it and walked to your room.

You were used to this lifestyle since childhood, thought it was normal until you shared that childhood of yours to your friends around your first year in highschool which they warned you its not normal and you should talk to a teacher or an officer. And you told one teacher about it because...who would believe a little kid? You which you never did, when you were second year in highschool and did nothing about it.

"Y/n? Is that you?" Your mother called out from the living room, using that cold and neutral tone as usual with you as she looks back from the television to you. Stopping in your tracks, you replied to your mother.

"Its me, mom" You replied back, your mother didn't say anything else and looked back at the television while being all lovey dovey with a stranger beside her and whose arm was wrapped around her shoulder. Of course your mother wouldn't ask anything else about your day, she doesn't care like.

Did she love you when you were born? You don't know.

You were always destined to be born, you were just born in the hands of the wrong family and society.

You always wondered why your parents are like this, they're husband and wife.. they're supposed to love each other right? Why would they even marry if they wouldn't be faithful and love each other later on?

Despite all those, your friends still understand you and never left you out. Though they would make some rumors that maybe it's a forced marriage and either one of them threatened to shoot if you don't agree to marry but you refused to live your so 'miserable' life in those rumors. If you've knew your relatives in both your parent's side of family, you'd probably knew why. Though you never met them and never asked them about it.

Why? Because you're scared of them, scared of your mother cursing you and threatening to throw a bottle at you and could've if her boyfriend didn't visit. Your mother's boyfriend was a nice man obviously, your literal savior before your mom could hurt you more physically than mentally, your father...? He's almost always absent in your life and if he's back home, he would give you a cold and strict look finding an argument with your mom until he leaves the house again in the middle of the night. You grown up to survive these real life loveless households, it's still affected you in any way. Hell, you don't even know what's father's day, mother's day, family day.

You finally reached your room, dropping your bag on the door before plopping on the bed you arranged this morning. You hated going back home everytime, it's the worst part of your school days..you wished you could stay at the school where you make friends, spend time and have mini picnics with your friends at the school cafeteria. Going home to your loveless and abusive mother with a stranger that you never knew or saw in your life.

Just two more school years to go, then you can graduate to college, get yourself a dorm near your college and move out from that hell of a household. You just need to wait for the right time, if you can still handle their neglect and abuse of course.

An eerie feeling hits you, similarly to the one you felt earlier..you felt..watched. You never knew what it means of yours, your parents barely teach you anything...you never knew anything of manners, but of course you still remained nice because of the kind people you meet outside your family life.

You thought about the man who offered you a loaf of bread earlier when your stomach growled, you didn't bring lunch because your mother who never had a job and relies heavily on your father's money in which he often looses it through gambling. Your mother wouldn't even give you lunch money even if she had earned money for going on dates with men through dating app.

Maybe the Gods heard your prayers, gave you a lucky day and something to fill your stomach. It's like sending a guardian angel to protect to you to protect you.

Not knowing what else to do in your room, you took out your phone and decided to watch some movies and play some games to feed your boredom.

Feeling like you need dinner, you went out of your room, heading to the kitchen to get some food passing by your mother and her boyfriend now with the television still on and your mother now seems to be sleeping on his shoulder while his head lays on hers. You'd feel jealous of these men your mother keeps bringing home and being all sweet with them, they are literally strangers and not her blood. But chooses to be that way with them than to be sweet with her descendant.

You opened the fridge, half the food inside the fridge now consumed and as usual the shelf is stored with soju bottles, some already finished and some were drank but half was left, very little of them were still untouched.

Seeing that there's only some cold rice there, you took it with you along with chopsticks to eat.

For the whole night as usual, you ate, watch movies from the television you bought with your saved money from either stealing some of your mother's money or from a loving aunt next door, doodle on unused papers and lay on your bed thinking about life and its actual purpose.

And when the clock hits 10:00 in the nighttime, you finally prepare to go to bed..brushing your teeth, check, changing to something comfy, check, daily hoping a time you'll get out of the household from hell? Check.

Then you finally close your eyes, shutting your eyes to sleep to the dark world around you as you hug your plush under your blankets.

.

.

.

.

As usual, you waited by the school gate for a friend..this time with your circle of friends, you all had a quiz by the next day so you all decided to study and pass together for the next day..discussing that you'll study at one of your friends house and walk each other home.

As you laughed with your friends by the school gate, the same faint shutter reached your ears. You learned to ignore it, but it usually gets concerning sometimes. You took a quick glance behind you to see any suspicious people or someone holding a camera to confirm your suspicions

At this time, you forgot to contact your mother that you'll be home late because you had to study with your friends at their place. You knew if you're gonna be home late without a reason, there's no other punishment other than to slap you harshly on the face and lock you in your room without having any food leaving you starving for a night.

You we're starving while studying at a friend's place, good thing their mother was kind enough make food for her child's friends.

Unlike your mother.

When you wave your goodbyes with your friends after walking each other home, you finally reached your "home".

Oh you were in for a bigg surprise. Or maybe that's what you think...for the moment.

When you thought you're gonna get dragged inside and get slapped and cursed by your mother for going home late, usually you'd see your mother by the doorway but it's unusually empty.

You stepped inside, peeking through the living room to see your mother and her boyfriend passed out on the couch, a few bottles on the floor whilst the television was still playing. The usual routine she does, drinking, dating and watching television.

Is that all that makes her happy? You asked yourself as you quietly went to the kitchen, to get snacks and reached your bedroom. Taking your backpack off your shoulders as you change into pajamas to relax for the night, tomorrow was finally the weekends. Acads have been putting a weight over your shoulders for a while.

You finally took your phone from your bag, hopped onto your bed to scroll through social media, chat your friends and watch videos to cure your boredom. You don't really do much in your room other than doodling and using your cellphone even on weekends.

Your friends messaged you if you could come to an outing with them and if your mother would allow you, you messaged them back that you can anytime, not like your mother cares.

After a while of using your cellphone distracted, a slam of the front door startles you out-of your thoughts. A familiar masculine voice echoing throughout the house even reaching your room.

You could literally hear the drunken tone of your gambling father as he yells at your mother and her boyfriend.

"Who is this again? Didn't I tell you no damn boyfriends in my house you slut?!" Your father shouts, sounds of glass bottles breaking and throwing could be heard as your mother is also yelling back at your father.

"Why not? Not like you come back home every single damn day!"

You hated hearing this, it leaves wounds on your heart everytime. Even when you were still in elementary, you never get used to your parents arguing.

You hear sounds of punching, throwing, and shouts from your mother, your father and her boyfriend. More glass throwing and breaking. Even one was hit at your door making you jump at the sound.

You knew the next day when you wake up, you're gonna broken glass bottles, a living room and kitchen that will look like a whole war zone and maybe possible blood.

Not able to bear the sounds. You turned off your cellphone and forced yourself to sleep with a pillow on the side of your head...not wanting to hear it, you silently teared.

You, exhausted much. You were able to slowly fall asleep despite the blood being shed outside of your comfort space.

The fight continued and continued.

On the brink of falling asleep, you could hear what once was anger, now surprise and confusion.

"Who are you to get intrude into my house?! This is my house you just intruded!!"

You could faintly hear the unfamiliar voice's respond to that, but you knew it was another masculine voice.

Do you recognize that voice? You don't know because you were about to fall asleep.

Maybe you could worry about that tomorrow....

A thud.

A thud, woke you up, you checked your phone from the nightstand to see what time it is. It was 1:29 AM, pretty early, it's unusual to hear some thud in the middle of night.

You could hear a faint voice talking outside your room, it wasn't your mother, father, or her boyfriend talking. It was someone else. Now curious as to what happened earlier? You were actually curious as to what happened after that nasty fight, you finally got up and stood up from your bed to reach for the door.

But you don't open it immediately, you press your ear to the door trying to pick up the sound of someone else's voice outside. You could only pick up the faint voice but can't pick up the words they say.

You finally opened the door, open enough to peek your eye to see what's going on. It was dark. But you can finally hear the voices clearly, probably from the dining room. You opened the door completely and stepped out, cautiously heading to the dining room only to see the aftermath of the chaos that happened last earlier, when you peeked more into the dining room your toes hit...a body.

You saw your mother's boyfriend laying dead, a bad gash on his head with blood pooling his head. Luckily you didn't step on the blood.

"I would shoot you like I did to your precious boyfriend and your husband, but I'm not that kind of man."

HELP I LIKE TO THINK HE NEVER SHOOTS OR HIT WOMEN TOO HARSHLY BEAR IT WITH ME / You hear, eyebrows furrowing as your brain tells you the voice isn't unfamiliar and you probably have met that voice before. You can't pick up where you met that man with that voice.

"I have a teenager, in her room--" Your mother shakily talks.

How did she know you were in your room?Why are you being mentioned now?

"Please spare me...do anything you want with them, just don't-- sniff shoot me like you did with my husband--" You could hear your mother tear up, Is she giving you away to someone? You were glad you came there to hear that your mother is giving you away for the sake of her own life.

Little do you know though, you didn't see him stepping back to check on the hallways to your room.

Now a bit afraid, you immediately stepped back and was about to go to your room when...

"Oh, they're awake."

You finally froze in your tracks, turning to face the man. It was that man.

From two days ago...

"Ma...what are you doing?" You lowly spoke, your tone slowly getting defensive as you take a step back.

"Get your things."

Your mother coldly speaks, you can see bruis3s on her face, especially on her left eye. The fight must've been bad earlier.

"Ma--"

"Don't 'Ma' me, brat. When I say you get your things, you get them."

And with that, you only went back to your room to get your things. That man told you didn't need your school bag or your things for school, he didn't tell you why unfortunately...you only took that brings you comfort and your clothes and essentials.

You didn't know, why you just suddenly gave in the idea that your mother is giving you away to someone you're still unfamiliar with. Honestly you don't know how to say no much, but the thought of living a life outside of abuse and a loveless family.

He isn't a pedophile, right? Not a sex trafficker?...

Would this still happen if you're family was the opposite of abusive and loveless? Maybe the gods thought you were born at the wrong place and so they sent someone to be your new parent.

Someone who will give you the love you craved and love, who will teach you things about family that you never were taught about.

"Aren't you the man who gave me the bread the other day, sir...?"

You quietly asked the man who walked you out of that house, leaving your father who was shot in the head, her boyfriend, and your mother laying like a dead body on the floor. And onto the streets.

"Appa, call me appa."

He immediately replies right after you asked, but he didn't reply to your question but only corrected how you address this man now.

You felt anxious, but at the same time freed. Was this child protective services that's taking you away from an abusive household in the middle of the night?

A part of you thinks this is wrong and he could be a bad guy, but another part of you thinks otherwise, you were told to call him appa. So maybe you thought, he's gonna be your new parent...

For a long time, he's seen himself when he sees you. As he looks at your photos from afar, he feels... paternal, why? You're not his blood, hell you're from a complete different bloodline other than his.

News eventually broke out that your mother was arrested for domestic abuse and the murder of your father and her boyfriend after an anonymous call reached to the police that they witnessed your mother attacking her boyfriend and shooting her husband but never catch sight of you. You were nowhere to be found and after doing a little search and putting missing papers around the town they eventually closed the case and considered your disappearance a runaway because your things were also missing when you were given away to someone else.

You missed your school and your friends, but you mostly didn't want to go back to the pain you endured for a long time. Atleast he leaves freshly cooked breakfast on the stove before his leave for 'work'.

You didn't know him, and he never told you about himself. You wonder what you're future will be here..but he reassures you:

He can be a better parent than them.

____________________________________

The ending part is pretty rushed, I know but I wanted to finish this before afternoon :(( I just got back to writing, I'll do better I promisee--

taglist :: @5cookiekitty @chunkzdeluluwife @deepmiraclearcade @murderofravens @betty-boop-lips-05 @menabuser16 @skibidirizzlerrrr @emmynotawards @creativerambling @chrisstyle @donnaaurelia @ilovethe141 @louismae @ennvfv @4inchfae

If anyone wrongly tagged above this note, lmk!!

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

didn’t realize this was the liberal arts

Jason goes to college. You’re there. And then you show up in his nightlife, which throws him for a loop.

I wish I could tell you what this is but I can’t. i set out to write a meet cute. that's not what happened. Jason is a sad little dude. You’re in one of his college classes, but don’t get the idea that you’re nice about it.

Swearing as always. No use of y/n. I don’t know how long this is.

Edit: whoops, it's a series. rest of it is on my masterlist

————

Jason’s trying.

He is. He’s taking the tattered remains of his life and trying to shove them together, mash them into something liveable. Or at least, manageable. Something he can stand to survive.

It’s difficult. He rose from the Pit with a brain that didn’t quite work, didn’t crank like his half forgotten memories told him it did when he was fifteen. He couldn’t string two thoughts together, couldn’t make the synapses fire. Nothing at the helm but the searing pain he brought with him when he woke up, telling his heart to pulse just to find something to do about the feelings of rage and despair that submerged him.

Which, of course, led him to his stupid plan to kill Bruce.

It didn’t work. And it wouldn’t have helped anyway.

His head finally cleared when the dust settled. It dawned on him that he was blessed (ha) with a new lease on life, or something, and he should probably act like it. He should probably get off his ass and make the most of it.

He ends up doing the only things he knows how to do. Jason patrols and goes back to school to get his GED.

The fighting is obvious. He’s lead with his teeth his whole life, he’s not about to start pulling punches now. And a little purpose never hurt anyone, he figures. It helps, most of the time.

More surprising is how much Jason enjoys going back to school. It had started as a passing thought, but he’d forgotten how much he missed it, the freedom to relax and let his mind whir in circles. Bruce had given him the stability to clear his head and focus in the classroom, and he’d soaked everything up like a sponge. When he goes back he discovers, much to his delight, that he’s actually alright in the head. The lights are on, thank god, and soon enough learning comes easy to him, just like it did when he was a teenager. What a relief, to have that back.

He finishes out the GED and figures what the hell, he might as well keep going, and enrolls himself in Gotham U. He is, he realizes, fulfilling a long-lost dream he’d spun for himself back when he was living on the streets. It makes him quietly satisfied, and he pushes through his first semester.

So this is where he is. He comes home at 4am, showers, sleeps for a few hours, then wakes up for class. Dick calls every other week, Barbara patches herself into the line in his helmet without his permission, and he ignores them both. He registers for a course on seventeenth century literature and reads don Miguel de Cervantes, and Margaret Cavendish, and Shakespeare, of course, but also Galileo, which is fun. He brings his books to class, he makes notes in the margins. He searches the authors’ lives on Wikipedia and tries to make text to world connections, just like he learned in school. He looks around the table at the other students and reckons with the fact that they are not, and will never be, like him. Or rather, Jason is not like them. They’re younger, for one thing, but also infinitely more innocent, which feels stupid to say, but it’s true. Whatever they’ve had happen in their uniform lives is absolutely nothing compared to his, and Jason can put that right in his pipe and smoke it for all the good it’ll do him. But he can’t help thinking it, as he eyes them carefully. There is a chasm separating him from them a mile wide, and that’s all there is to it. He’s not like them. Not like you.

You sit next to him, sometimes. You smile at him briefly as you sit down, then remain silent. You don’t speak often, which is notable in a small seminar. Not that Jason does either. A few weeks in he realizes you speak once per class, unless asked a direct question. Your comments are always summarizing, reminding others of the various ideas discussed and offering options of where to go next. It is immensely helpful when you direct traffic like this, and the discussion tends to be clearer after you speak. He peeks at your copy of Paradise Lost spread open under your fingers to find neat little notes, passages underlined, a few question marks. You’re never late, and you always thank the professor before you leave.

Imagine his surprise, then, when he finds you after dark, kicking the shit out of his perp.

You don’t hear him approach, climbing into the man’s apartment with a thud as he realizes someone had started his work for him. He thinks he recognizes you from behind, except that would be crazy, so it can’t be you. What would a university student be doing here? Jason doesn’t count.

It can’t be you, but he’s not sure, so he clears his throat to interrupt. You look at him over your shoulder with a look of such savagery he almost takes a step back.

Yeah. That’s you. Huh.

The cognitive dissonance threatens to give him a migraine. You look him up and down, raise an eyebrow, then turn back to the man lying on the floor and deal him another blow. The man groans, which doesn’t faze you, but Jason snaps to attention.

“I gotta question him.” It’s true, Jason thinks this man has intel on Black Mask’s dealers.

You whirl back around. “That doesn’t seem like it’s my fucking problem.”

Holy shit. Who the fuck are you, anyway?

“Listen, princess,” he begins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him. This is the first time he’s spoken to you, and it amazes him that he’s doing through the modulator. “I got shit to do here, you gotta get out of the way.” You try to slam onto his foot, then recoil, hissing in pain. “Steel-toed, sweetheart, that won’t get you anywhere.”

“What do you even need to know?” you ask furiously. “You target Black Mask, right? You’re wondering if Black Mask is his supplier? He is, there’s checks on the table.” You nod to a modest desk in the corner.

Okay. Yeah, he did want to know that. “Thanks, princess, but I’ll take it from here.”

You wrest yourself from his grip. “No,” you say stubbornly, “I’m not done.”

“Yeah, you are.” Jason eyes the perp, realizing he’d fallen unconscious. Shrugging, he turns to the desk. You’d clearly gone through it, receipts and bills are littered on the table, but there’s a locked cabinet you hadn’t opened. Kneeling, Jason takes out his lockpick.

He keeps an eye on you as he goes to work. You haven’t left, although he’s not sure where you would go, or even what you’re doing here. You watch him warily, folding your arms over your chest. It takes him a few minutes, but eventually the lock clicks, and he slides the drawer open. It’s pretty bare, mostly cash and, aha, a notebook that’s gotta be important.

He holds it for less than a second before you rip it from his fingers, moving across the room and flipping the book open. He grunts in surprise and follows you, only to find himself with a glock in his face.

Instinct tells him to draw his own weapon, and his hand drops to his hip, but he forces himself to freeze. You’re definitely a civilian, despite whatever the fuck you get up to in your free time. You’re not dressed in any kind of practical gear, just a loose fitting sweatshirt and leggings. Jason scouts you out and realizes that the gun in your hand probably isn’t even yours, you don’t have a place to put it. You must have disarmed the perp before Red Hood had gotten there. Jason files that away for later.

“Let me look,” you demand, and Jason nods. You keep the gun on him, holding the notebook open with one hand and studying it intently. It is so like the image of you in class that he almost laughs out loud. Whatever you’re looking for, you clearly find it, and you mouth something over and over, memorizing it. Then you shut the notebook and hold it out to him.

He takes it cautiously. “You need a ride out of here?”

You roll your eyes. “No thanks, dipshit,” and with that you shimmy through the window and bolt down the fire escape.

Jason blinks. Okay.

He follows you anyway, watching from the rooftops as you make your way across town. It takes you a long time, nearly an hour, and Jason worries that something nasty’s gonna go down, but it doesn’t. You trek resolutely across the city, same steady pace, before letting yourself into a nondescript apartment building, an easy bus ride to the campus. He stays for about twenty minutes, but you stay put.

Jason raps a gun against his helmet. Weird.

He tries and fails to wrap his head around it as he finishes out the evening. It’s just not adding up. Jason doesn’t know you well from class, obviously, but you’re such a far cry from what he saw tonight that it’s hard to believe. He’ll have to do some research, he decides, scope out what else you do besides studying and beating up on Jason’s bad guys. Maybe he’ll even ask you about it in class.

He laughs to himself as he heads back to his own apartment. Weird weird weird. Weird performance you gave him, weird enough to keep him up at night. Oh well. You don’t know it, but he’ll see you tomorrow.

————

lol what is this? what is this? a series, hopefully. otherwise I have no freakin’ idea

[xmads-omensx]

Not sure if I can request things but if you would be willing. Could you write Noah in an established relationship and maybe his girl is a part of the crew and like mid tour he starts to notice that she starts sleeping a lot when she never sleeps during the day and then her standing by the barricades snapping pics of her and fainting. Thank you so much!

Word Count: 1,531

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X reader

Content Warnings: fainting, mentions of exhaustion, established relationship, swearing, fluff, mentions of burn out, mentions of hospitals

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @dontwantthemoney @tosoundlessdarkistare @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @heyyoplayer @dsireland86 @missduffsblog @overmydeadbodysblog @dominuslunae @littlebear423 @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @kait16xo @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch @concretejunglefm

I had been touring with Noah for as long as I could remember.

It was how we met.

Matt had hired me originally as his assistant tour manager, before shifting me to be Bryan’s assistant as well as remaining as Matts assistant when he discovered my passion for photography.

Whilst touring with Bad Omens, I developed feelings for Noah very rapidly, as he did the same towards me.

It was a lot of awkward skirting around eachother as we flirted like high school children, both too afraid to actually admit how we felt towards eachother out of the pure fear that the other didn’t feel the same way.

In fact, it was Matt who had forced us together in the end.

He had sent Noah and I to get some cables from the bus individually, forcing us to be alone, when Bryan pushed the two of us into the back of the van, refusing to free us until we admitted how we felt.

We have been happily together ever since.

After that, touring became a lot more bearable considering the fact that I was doing it with the person I loved more than anything else in the world.

The Australia tour was something that I had been really looking forward to, mainly since I had never been there before. I was sick the last time that Bad Omens played there, so I had to sit it out, which had not been enjoyable for anybody since the guys had to put up with Noah’s whining and Bryan and Matt had to do double the work.

Matt and I had met up about three months prior to the tour beginning in order to make the adequate preparations and make sure that everything was in order before we all made the insanely long journey down under.

It was a long and arduous process, making sure the appropriate flights and hotel rooms had been booked, then organising fun things for the guys to do on their off days all while editing photos that I had taken for another band that I had just toured with as their photographer.

My workload was most definitely a lot more than I was used to, but it was a challenge that I embraced with wide open arms since I felt insanely lucky to be in the position that I was in.

Noah had been a massive help as Matt and I prepared for the tour.

He took on my chores on top of his own to balance out my workload, he ran errands for me that I didn’t quite have time to run and was an overall incredible help whilst I prepped.

When the time came to actually go on said tour, Noah was a stressed wreck, which was expected when going on any tour that Bad Omens did, especially when it was the first tour back from their break due to Noah’s burn-out.

I had made sure everybody was all packed and ready to go, making extra sure that Noah knew that I had triple checked both of our luggage.

The flight had gone smoothly, with me napping for most of it, which had admittedly shocked Noah since I notoriously could not get to sleep on planes, but it was a great sleep so I wasn’t going to complain.

“Baby, we’re here.” Noah had whispered with a kiss on my forehead as we landed in Melbourne for the first few shows of the tour.

I awoke groggy, but happy to see my boyfriend’s face smiling down at me.

Strangely, I still felt tired despite having slept for most of the flight. Assuming it was just jetlag getting to me, I went about starting to prepare the first show of the short tour.

Matt and I met up at a nearby café to discuss last minute arrangements for the first show. We went over the visuals, the timings, the pyro and pretty much anything and everything in-between.

I could barely hide the exhaustion on my face as we worked.

“Hey, are you okay?” Matt asked with a concerned expression.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I’ve never flown that far before.” I replied with a weak laugh.

“Oh dude tell me about it.” He sighed, taking his cap off and running his hand through his hair before replacing the cap back on his head. “I mean, I’m pretty much done with you here, so why don’t you go and find Bryan and talk about what his plan is?”

“Sounds good.” I said with a laugh, standing up and patting his shoulder before leaving the café and returning to the hotel.

Bryan was hanging out with Noah and Nicholas in the hotel room that Noah and I were sharing. I could hear their laughter from the hallway as I got closer and closer.

“Hey idiot.” Nicholas sighed when I walked through the door.

“Hey!” Noah scolded, throwing the pillow that he held over his lap at his best friend’s head.

I laughed at their behaviour before sitting on the small sofa next to Bryan.

We began to go over our plan for the tour as Noah and Nicholas continued hitting eachother with pillows and laughing at eachother.

“So I will go behind the guys, and you go just in front of the barricade, that way we cover all bases.” Bryan said, but his voice had begun to grow quieter in my ears.

A hand brushed my shoulder. It was Bryan.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“Yeah, just tired.” I replied, stifling a yawn.

“Alright, everybody out.” Noah demanded, standing up and hitting Bryan on the back of the head with the pillow he had been hitting Nicholas with.

The two other men stood up and shuffled out of the room, leaving Noah and I alone.

“Wanna sleep?” He asked, gently cupping the side of my face and stroking it with his thumb.

“I think a little nap will help me out.” I sighed, kissing his palm, making him smile.

Noah pulled away from me and pulled the duvet back on the bed, getting it ready for me to crawl in and finally get some sleep.

The first few dates of the tour had been like that.

We would arrive at the city, I would take a nap, then we would do the show.

It was a cycle that had been concerning Noah more and more since I never usually napped during the day.

Noah had been urging me to go see a doctor whilst we were on tour, but obviously I didn’t want to listen to him.

He had a tendency to be overprotective and overbearing at times when it came to both touring and my health.

It all came to a head one night on the tour when I was by the barricade taking photos like I did every night, when suddenly my head began to spin and my eyes became blurry.

I could no longer hear the music as the venue faded to black around me, enveloping me in a pitch black void.

When I awoke, bright LED lights practically blinded me.

I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn’t let me.

No, scratch that.

A heavy body lay over half of my torso.

A dark-haired head lay on my chest, rising and falling slightly along with my breaths.

Noah.

I reached my hand up and stroked his hair away from his face gently.

He stirred and looked up at me with worried eyes, before lunging up and engulfing me in a crushing bear hug.

“I was so worried about you!” He exclaimed into my hair.

I didn’t know what to say, so I settled for pulling him in closer.

“The doctors think that you’re burned out and exhausted. You’ve been working yourself too hard with doing assistant tour manager, assistant photographer as well as working for other bands on top of Bad Omens. You need to lighten your workload.” Noah explained.

“But-“ I went to argue but he cut me off.

“I understand you love what you do. Trust me I understand how much this sucks. But you seriously need to slow down. I have been so worried about you all tour, and now you’re in fucking hospital. Let me help you.” Noah pleaded.

“I-“ I tried to argue, but he was right.

I was pushing myself far too much, therefore I was exhausted.

Being burned out explained why I had been sleeping so much on this tour. it explained why I felt so awful constantly.

And worst of all, I had been worrying Noah.

“Fine. I’ll slow down.” I sighed. “But promise me that no one will get mad at me.”

“Baby, nobody is mad at you.” Noah comforted, rubbing my arm with his large hand.

“Really.” I asked quietly.

He simply nodded his head and pulled me into his chest.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re safe with me.” He whispered, kissing the top of my head. “You need to take breaks sometimes, you told me that yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” I laughed.

Noah always knew exactly what to do or say no matter what the situation was.

He just understood.

[plaidos]

in short: “no, i will not stop harassing and e-stalking you, it is not my responsibility when some of my 1,000+ followers stalk & harass you, and this is justified, because you have a bigger blog than me, and because people have laughed at me when i’ve asked them to stop interacting with me”

like literally, “other people have treated me badly, so i can do whatever i want and am fundamentally not accountable for anything ever”.

you say that my promise to leave you alone if you keep my name out of your mouth is unsubstantiated — so let’s substantiate it. if you wanted to prove me wrong, then you could stop talking about me and wait to see if i ever mention you again. like genuinely and seriously i swear to god promise on my life my fiancée my dogs that if you never talk about me again i will never talk about you again. and you can prove that, right now, by agreeing to my request instead of saying, “no, actually, i’d rather keep directly causing your harassment & consistently harassing & e-stalking you to the degree that i have a tag dedicated you smearing you and lying about you”

EDIT: and for the last time, stop lying — i’m not blocking you and unblocking you repeatedly. i’ve always had you blocked. you can reblog people who you have blocked. you only can’t reblog from people if they have blocked you. and you haven’t blocked me, so you can keep e-stalking me. i can teach you how to block from a sideblog if that’s the issue.

I guess Plaidos is doing that thing where she unblocks me to reblog me again lol.

Accusing me of pretending to be a trans woman is in fact misgendering me. I am a trans woman. I provably have a voice that can only belong to a person AMAB or someone who's tried very hard over a long period of time to masculinize their voice, so if I'm not a 'TMA' person, you must be necessarily be accusing me of being a man, although it would not be any better if you were saying I was any other kinna non-trans woman either, because it's still misgendering to say a trans woman is faking being a trans woman regardless.

You're misgendering a trans woman when you say I'm not a trans woman. You literally said me claiming to be a trans woman is the same as a conservative man making an attack helicopter joke. You can apologize for that at your leisure.

Extremely conceited. You come up on my blog fairly infrequently, but you have over fifteen times the followers I do and what you say has reverberations in trans discourse, so sometimes I get anons letting me know what new hornet's nest you've kicked off. I don't look at your blog because it makes my skin physically crawl. The fact that you're an Actually Popular Trans Woman on Tumblr, unlike me, means that you're going to get talked about occasionally because every time you say some dumb shit your gaggle of idiots is ready to enthusiastically vomit it at the other minority groups you call slurs.

Sincerely, get the fuck over it, you're either a prominant transfeminist literary analysist or you aren't.

It's literally a content warning, because you're a hateful and offensive person, but it's wild I should even have to defend that since 'transfeminists' will tag posts hating on me on a regular basis for no particular reason.

If you actually do go through that tag, you'll see that I tend to only ever talk about you in response to people bringing you up first, or in the case of you misgendering me, you talking about me first. The only real exception is that I made two posts about the Dropout discourse you blatantly started for attention, which was (a) still brought to me by anons since I'd not have known you were responsible for that otherwise and (b) a special interest of mine I was really fucking pissed off that you were fucking up with the bullshit that special interest was an escape from.

I'm not sending anyone to do anything, moron.

Your vanity is not charming. I've talked about you lately in direct response to you talking about and misgendering me. You are discussing me too dummy.

I don't think you should be transmisogynistically harassed, but I'm absolutely fucking not responsible for someone with fifteen times the followers I have getting backlash to things like defending a 4chan slur for non-binary people. Like, no, actually, someone taking issue with that is not on me, and considering what you think counts as transmisogyny, I'm not really sure I even buy your characterization of said backlash, especially if they're "directly referencing" anything I say.

Completely unsupported by your behavior! Do you remember when you were randomly like "if you're wondering what velvetvexations is up to, she's saying you can call trans women hysterical because they don't have uteruses" when that was not what I fucking said?

I've tried making the same "I'll never mention you if you don't mention me" offer to people who obsessively stalk my blog before, including people who I would never talk about anyway because they don't have nearly the same presence on this website. I've asked them to stop screenshotting my blog and lying about me and getting anons sent to my inbox as a result. I've reported them to Tumblr, who doesn't consider it harassment. Each time the people stalking me - which is what they were actually doing to me, unlike me occasionally commenting when someone tells me you've caused some new discourse - was laughed at and told I simply deserve it or bring it upon myself.

Once again, you position yourself as a serious transfeminist activist and you have the following to back it up. You have influence in the conversation around transfeminism and as a trans woman I have a right to talk about it. Tell people to stop parroting your every word, or better yet, entirely stop kicking at trans men and non-binary people literally every day. Like literally every day you do this, it's why I can't look at your blog because it fucking repulses me.

You don't do anything to help trans women. You don't care about trans women. You care about being cruel to other trans people and using that to prop up your own crumbling ego. I would love it if your opinions weren't unfortunately popular and constantly being widely disseminated among others, but like, they are, and it's fucking disastrous for everyone involved. I don't hate you more than any other dumbass radfem.

I've helped TERFs deradicalize and retransition. You will never in your life do a quarter of what I do for transfeminism. The most you will ever accomplish is being an aggressive contrarian who's too unoriginal to come up with headcanons that weren't popular with transmascs first and claiming it a win when you say they're too stupid and shallow to interpret art correctly.

[thetruearchmagos]

Dunking On Some Fools

In Which I Whine About Star Wars, And Talk About Multi-Role Platforms (Mostly The Latter)

Yes, the none-awaited sequel to this post a few days ago has arrived! If no one reads this, I don't think I'd mind, but I am tagging @coffeexafterxmidnight since you asked and @theprissythumbelina because I vaguely recall you reacting positively to something star wars related a while ago.

Anyhow, more below the cut;

Now, the way I see it, a lot of the pro-LAAT arguments come from the perspective that using 'multi-role' vehicles, or 'platforms' to be technical, is inherently better than splitting those roles across multiple platforms in unison. These two comments, for example;

---

---

Now, I'm gonna start by saying that while I am a very big fan of most multi-role platforms (F-35 my beloved I never doubted you), I am of the opinion that the 'Low Altitude Assault Transport', or LAAT, is absolutely not a good example of one, and I'm here to explain why.

"Multi-Role' VS 'Multi-Form'

Basically, the way I see it is that it's a good idea to design one or a small number of platforms to be able to conduct a variety of missions as long as the ability to actually do that doesn't require making absolutely detrimental sacrifices in that platform's ability to fulfil its core functions.

Now, what does that look like?

This is a Nimitz-class nuclear powered aircraft carrier of the United States Navy, and in my opinion such platforms are an excellent example of what it means to be multi-mission right.

The base, structural form of aircraft carriers is basically a flat deck, a hangar beneath it, and all the engineering, navigational, and communications gear needed to make it go places and do things.

And what can an aircraft carrier do? Anything, depending on what you put on it.

Fight for and win air superiority? Launch fighters.

Bomb something? Send up some strike aircraft.

Hunt submarines? Sic anti-submarine helicopters on them.

And you don't even need to change the ship itself! There's not really a structural difference between a carrier that can 'do' air warfare VS one that can fight surface targets, and the same hold true in other domains. Modern missile cells on ships, or launch rails / bomb bays on aircraft, can store and fire many types of ordnance (if you've designed them to), allowing the platform with these systems to be easily re-tasked between various missions.

The exact opposite of this fortunate state of affairs can be seen when improving a platform's ability to do A actively weakens its ability to do B. This often happens when the structural components needed to carry out one task take up weight or volume while providing nothing to the platform's ability to do another.

Such as, say, having to have both a large transport compartment and all the lasers in the galaxy.

Where Does The LAAT Fit?

Now, to return to the vehicle that started all this.

I believe the LAAT is a flawed concept, and my proposition to replace it while retaining a similar level of 'orbit to surface assault' capability would be to divide the roles of 'fire support' and 'troop transport' between two separate platforms. Frankly, I'm more than a little sceptical of this whole doctrine to begin with, but I'm not gonna get into that.

The main problem here is weight. It shouldn't be controversial to say that in the air more than any other domain, weight is at an absolute premium, and speed is often your best protection. Just by stripping the basic hull of either the armament or the troop bay would give the resulting craft a good boost to speed or range, especially if you take the effort to make a more aerodynamic hull form. Alternatively, you could use the saved weight to cut back on thrusters / repulsors, or boost carrying capacity, armament (as if it isn't already armed enough), or shielding / armour.

A second point that I think is also relevant is that, by splitting these two conflicting missions and design requirements into different aircraft, you can now get away with adapting the new platforms into even more roles which their now non-contradictory frames might be better able to handle. The troop transport can also haul cargo or vehicles without wasting capacity on weapons, and on the flip side the gunship can carry out independent attack missions without subtracting from the transport fleet.

With these arguments made, though, I'd like to take some time to properly shoot the two YouTube commenters who started this right between the eyes. Their takes, I think, are dumb.

Take 1; 'Sequencing Bad, Actually'

Okay, well.

First of all, surely the idea of 'easily anticipated stages' applies equally to the approach best described as 'mass identical waves coming right at you'? Like, just using the LAAT is no less predictable the split idea? Military operations are always broken up into clearly defined stages for a reason, which brings me to my next point.

Let's say you send in the LAAT in your first, second, and third waves, as you'll need to because there's no way in hell you're getting a 'large' amount of troops down at once. The first wave will take the most fire since the defenders haven't been suppressed yet, and since the troop transports and gunships are the same, losing gunships while attempting to clear defences also condemns their passengers to dying with them.

Unless you mean to tell me you intend on dropping troops while the enemy's guns are pointing right at you. In which case, please watch Saving Private Ryan Opening Beach Scene on Holo-Tube.

On the other hand, breaking up the mission into discrete and sequential stages, and splitting attack and transport craft into separate roles, allows you to cut back on risk massively. Take the LAAT hull, leave the droops on ship, and replace all that weight with even more lasers (but preferably rockets or something), and now you have a craft for that 'first wave', which can hit defences with speed and firepower without risking a single ground trooper's life. Then, once and only once the Landing Zone is ready, you can send in the ground pounders to do their work.

Take 2; Muh Multi Role

Ah, screw me I guess.

Look, first of all, who the hell 'needs; to do so? Like, the video and commenter made a point of saying that there very much was no need to slap weapons on the blackhawk or Mi-8, so what exactly are you trying to say??

Also, the point about multi-role fighters is so stupid it spawned this whole post. In the modern day, where the divide between ground attack and air combat capabilities are summed up quite well by 'stick the bloody weapon on a launch rail and chuck it from beyond the horizon', the structural concessions you need to support both roles are much lower than having to accomodate, I don't know, a vacuum pressurised passenger compartment, and a absolute crap ton of lasers. So, yeah! You can't compare the two!

And with that... I don't feel like trawling through the video for more dumb takes. So, Arch out.

[seventh-district]

Figured I'd try my hand at some Redacted character post/text edits!

[ 1 / ? ]

Credit to @/sainthowlzon for all the Listener icons, and to @/elisacaleisa for their google drive with all the canon icons!

(slightly alternative version of the Solaires' GC edit below the cut bc i had a lil too much fun with what Vincent would name his contacts)

[y4rdbird]

Dr s2p1 save me

[fortjester]

gojo satoru & geto suguru from jujutsu kaisen vs. uncomfortably numb by american football ft. hayley williams

[independent-fics]

The Leverage OT3 in Every Episode

Leverage (2008-2012)

01x10 The Juror #6 Job

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

BTS Billboard Music Awards photoshoot (recolored) Suga

Unedited originals:

[kadens-a-bee]

I think I’m funny

[theygender]

I wish cats were like dogs where you could take them to a cat park or kitty daycare or on a playdate and let them run around with other hyper energetic kittens for several hours and then you bring them back home and they're so played out that they're just chill the rest of the day. Astrid is in her preteen phase now and she has the most violent destructive zoomies of any cat I've ever seen. Our older male cat can't keep up with her when she really wants to play and neither can we. I just played with her until she flopped from exhaustion TWICE a few hours ago and she's already jetting around at near light speed knocking shit off every horizontal surface and doing kickflips off of us with her claws out again

[ltlemon]

ok so now plastic beach deluxe is on spotify in the us

[ohsweetflips]

somewhere on this blog there is a post that goes something like "what if i just start identifying as nonbinary and don't tell anyone and still go by she/her" and that needs to be marked as the day that pandora's box opened

[arttsuka]

post oc lore king/queen !!

😭 I don't really have lore tbh, mostly vibes. Everything is too underdeveloped for lore

I have vague ideas of what I want my ocs to be.

For example, I want to put these guys in a 'time travel' kinda situation, where a murder takes place (that phone guy, who was the only one who knew how to help them get back in their time).

The only thing worse than their designs are the names