#I had no idea what to put for the punchline for this

[inkshine]

Hyperactive salesperson in a commercial voice: Are you drowning? Is there no sign of land? Is someone coming down with you, hand in unlovable hand? If so, call the number on the screen right now to get a chance to win a free prize!

[equill]

Another Otsutsuki?!

we’re messing up the timeline for this one. (I lost this crack idea but then it came back… the abyss stare back and I jumped in.)

anyways, now some kids meeting the new kid

Panel 1: There’s something wrong here.

Comic 1: Attention.

they’re both in the same boat

Comic 2: Day Off (with confusion.)

he just a little insecure,, (kakashi still told him to get it together)

back to the future now

Comic 3: What. (huh?)

Panel 2: very tiny.

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push my heel into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[endless-ineffabilities]

eclipsed (Aemond Targaryen x f!reader)

You loved him. He didn't feel the same. Until everything changed – but is it too late?

main masterlist ▪︎ word count: 1.7k

a/n: I envisioned modern Aemond as I was writing this. Also, the usual taglist is sadly not included for this spontaneous oneshot. I trust that the angst will find you if it's meant to be!

Aemond Targaryen was once everything to you. 

Your guiding light. Your sun and your stars. You knew you had a heart, you knew it was beating true, because it worshipped him with such a ferocity that would put a devotee to shame. Nothing and no else compared. You would have been content to simply exist in his orbit, to watch as he lived and loved.

He loved you too. You knew that. But as a brother loved a sister, as a friend loved a friend. 

And all kinds of love were meant to appear dim and pale in comparison to what he felt for Alys.

He doted on her. She was everything to him. She was his guiding light, his sun and stars. You could never compare. 

It was an unbearable truth, one you had tried for too long to ignore, but there came a time when you reached your breaking point. One evening, you asked to meet him. You knew you were about to ask for so much more – you were asking for something he could never offer.

You were asking to be seen. 

You could no longer sit idly by, watching the sun shine on the world while the moon was left in the shadows.

When you confessed, his reaction was as callous as it was predictable. Aemond laughed in disbelief, as though your words were at the end of some punchline. “Okay,” he said dismissively, “I love you too.”

“No.” You shook your head, looking away. You had to bite your lip to keep the tears from falling. “I love you, Aemond.”

“Yes, I know,” he smiled, taking a step closer, grimacing when you put your hands up to stop him from reaching out for you.

“I’m in love with you.” You had to take a deep breath before you continued. “I love you. Maybe you knew all along. Maybe you didn’t. But you have to know that.”

There it was, suspended in the atmosphere between the two of you, before the inevitable crash and crumble. 

“I don’t get it, darling.” He exhaled roughly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You love me?”

“What don’t you get?” Your voice came out sharper than intended, but you couldn’t be anything but honest. 

“I… this is… but you’re like a sister to me!” 

“Oh, fuck off, Aemond.” You waved his words away, trying to dampen just how brutal they stung. Just how much they cut deep. 

“Well, then,” he sneered, his eyes darkening with a defensive anger. “Thanks for that.”

“Is that…” You met his eyes once more, that heart-wrenching shade of blue. “Do you have anything else to say?”

His gaze hardened. “I’m with Alys.”

“I know that.”

“I love Alys.” He spat the words out like they were meant to be a scolding. Didn’t you know this? What exactly were you expecting from him? That he would cry and take you in his arms? I love you too… I love you too… I always have…

“I know that too.” The first bitter tear fell down your cheek. You inhaled sharply, wiping at your face with the back of your sleeve. You began pacing in an attempt to get a hold of your nerves. You did not want to have a complete breakdown in front of him. But then again, the worst has already happened. How much more humiliation could there possibly be?

“I’m sorry, darling.” His voice softened as he reached for you again, and this time, when you resisted, he simply caught your arms gently and pulled you against him. “Truly, I am. You have no idea.”

He held you, however long you needed to be held. He was good like that, he always has been. But it felt like a cruel comfort – mere scraps of affection when you wanted the entire feast. 

“I do love you, you know,” he murmured into your hair, his voice soothing as it broke your heart anew. “Always, I promise.”

And he did. 

But it was never going to be enough.

You were the moon to his sun, forever watching from a distance, knowing you would never truly share the same sky.

Aemond rarely saw you after that night. A week passed, then two, then a month. The silence between you stretched longer than he had expected, but still he thought nothing of it. Perhaps you were simply giving each other space, allowing the awkwardness to settle.

But then, when he tried seeking you out, there were no responses. He found out from a mutual friend that you had moved to another region. There was a promising work opportunity, apparently, one that had been too good to pass up.

You just conveniently failed to mention this to him. 

You drifted from his life without warning, and Aemond was not prepared for how deeply it would hurt. How lost he would feel. He was out of orbit, reeling, mourning the ghost of someone who still lived, but seemingly no longer wanted anything to do with him.

Alys was not blind to it. But there was nothing she could do. She could only watch as Aemond’s light began to dim, gradually fading until it barely reached her. She had no choice but to stand by as he became a hollow version of the man whom she thought loved her so fiercely.

An entire year passed before Aemond saw you again. 

It happened by chance, or perhaps some cruel twist of fate. You were there, with your adorable flushed cheeks and smile as bright as the sun. He did not know what to expect, but there you were, hugging him like the long lost friend he had become.

You looked better than ever, while he was barely getting by. 

“You look like you could use some sun, Aem,” you remarked lightheartedly, noticing how pale he got. “I can’t believe it’s been so long.”

You appeared carefree, but all Aemond could feel was the weight of the past year pressing down on him. 

“You left me,” he spat out before he could help himself. It sounded like an accusation, like a wound that never healed. How could you?

“I did leave, yes,” you say tentatively, confused by the venom in his tone. “But I don’t think I left you.”

“What would you call it then?” His tone was bitter, bordering on desperate. 

“I moved away,” you shrugged. “It happens. Friends move away, they move on.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” he muttered. His hands clenched at his sides when what he truly wanted was to reach for you.  

“I had to,” you replied, your voice quieter. “It was the only way.” 

Aemond frowned, his gaze fixed on your face, searching for something he couldn’t quite name. "The only way for what?"

You spoke again, slower, “It was the only way to get over you.”

He was hanging by a thread, and right then, he became untethered.

“I loved you, Aemond,” you continued. “And I couldn’t just stay there and watch you be in love with someone else. I’m sorry, but I had to leave. It was the only thing I could do to save myself.”

Your words hit him like a blow. He stared at you, the one who had been everything to him once – his anchor, his confidante, the one constant in his life. If only he hadn’t been too goddamn stupid to realise it then.

You reached over and squeezed his hand. He looked down and without thinking, he interlaced his fingers with yours. He felt you hesitate for a moment – a brief second where you considered pulling away – before you gave in.

The old you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. The old you would have held onto Aemond with everything you had, believing that if you just stayed close enough, he’d realise what was right in front of him.

But you were different now. Everything was different – no sunshine, just grey – because you said that you loved him.

Loved. Not anymore.

The roles were reversed, and maybe he deserved it. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on him as you pulled your hand away, offering him a soft, understanding smile. 

“And Alys?” you asked suddenly, your voice gentle but curious. "How is she?”

He stiffened. A part of him thought that staying with Alys was his path forward, the thing that would make sense of the chaos in his life. But it hadn’t. Not really. 

“We’re not together anymore,” Aemond finally admitted.

You blinked, visibly surprised. “Oh. I’m… I’m so sorry, Aemond. I didn’t know.”

He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It wasn’t… meant to be.”

You studied him, your brows furrowing in concern. “Even so, I know it’s hard,” you said softly, your voice full of empathy. “Breakups are… They’re never easy. But there’s someone out there for everyone. I truly believe that. I mean… I found someone, didn’t I?”

His entire body tensed, his breath hitching as his mind tried to process the full weight of your statement. You had found someone. You had moved on. There was the proof, hitting him right in the face. 

He had lost you. For good.

“You… found someone,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it more real.

“Yes. I did.” There was a tenderness in your voice, but it only twisted the knife deeper. “He’s wonderful, Aemond. He’s kind, supportive. I didn’t think I’d find something like this after – ” you paused, glancing away for a moment before meeting his gaze again, “after everything.”

“Are you in love?” The words came out before he could stop them, his voice tight with something like despair. He hated himself for asking, for needing to know, but the question was out there now, and he couldn’t take it back.

“Aemond.”

“Can you tell me this, at least? Do you… love him?”

There was a long pause, as if you were choosing your words carefully, and when you finally spoke, the answer was clear. “More than anything.”

You had become someone else’s sun. Someone else’s guiding light.

And he was the moon, forced to watch and drift in shadow. 

For the first time in his life, Aemond Targaryen understood what it meant to lose everything.

[megalony]

Danger Zone

This is a new Buddie imagine I had an idea for, I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Buddie Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When Captain Gerrard takes charge of the 118, he targets each of the team. Specifically (Y/n), because she's pregnant. And his actions put her at risk.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tossing the clipboard down on the gurney, (Y/n) twisted on her heels and unlocked the medicine cabinet in the corner of the ambulance near the emergency door. Her fingertips grazed along each glass bottle, counting each one in every row and checking the labels to make sure they were in date.

Once they were all accounted for, she ticked them off on the check sheet and turned around.

That was the ambulance restocked and ready to go again. Not that it needed checking and restocking today after Evan had already done it yesterday, but (Y/n) needed to keep busy.

She had been told to 'make herself useful' and she knew what that meant. If Gerrard caught her doing nothing, even if she was just taking a break, he would have her for it. And (Y/n) couldn't be dealing with his fluctuating temper. She would rather appease him and keep him at bay than give him any reason to single her out.

"Diaz, you've shrunk."

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s chest and her heart shuddered like a bird in a cage. She pinned the clipboard against her stomach and took a deep breath, glaring down at Hen who was leant up against the back door with her arms folded over her chest and a smirk playing on her lips.

"Pardon?" She raised a brow and looked down at Hen, waiting for the punchline of her joke.

For a dreaded moment when she heard her voice, (Y/n) thought it was Gerrard come to antagonise her for something.

"Your shirt says Diaz." Her shoulder slumped against the door a little more so she could cross one leg over the other while she pointed at the shirt (Y/n) was wearing. Not all of their uniforms had their names on the back, but some of them did. And right now, (Y/n) was wearing a shirt that said Diaz on the back, and that wasn't her name. Not yet, anyway.

"My stuff doesn't fit me anymore." (Y/n) tilted her head down, trying to hide the smile that was desperate to spread across her lips. She couldn't afford to be smiling and looking cheesy in case their Captain happened to pass by.

She set the clipboard down on the gurney and moved her hand to indicate her stomach. Not a lot of her clothing fit now she had a baby bump in the way.

The first few months had been fine, (Y/n) only had to disclose the pregnancy to Bobby- while he had been in charge of the station. No one else knew until she started to hang back on the larger calls and Bobby started giving her different orders like telling her to hang back at the truck or go and assist as a medic. Then when her stomach started to go round, it was an easy giveaway.

Being four and then five months pregnant was okay, (Y/n) had still managed to fit into her work clothes no problem. But now, being just over six months, (Y/n) couldn't stretch her shirts anymore without ripping them. They wouldn't go over her bump or tuck into her trousers anymore, and she'd had to go up a size or two in trousers so the buttons actually did up.

It was a change that both Eddie and Evan loved, but one that made (Y/n) self-conscious around their new Captain.

Gerrard liked to single (Y/n) out. He made jibes because she was pregnant, he tried to test her and see how far he could push her on the job.

All of them thought he would treat (Y/n) the way he treat Chimney when he first joined the station. They thought he would confine her to the station and change her job role to cleaner, she had been prepared to be stuck inside, mopping the floors, cleaning out the trucks and restocking the cupboards.

No one had expected him to keep (Y/n) on all of their callouts. He barely played things by the book, he got her on every call out and got her handling equipment and the truck or the ambulance. Gerrard kept things just on the line of the rules so he couldn't be reprimanded, he pushed (Y/n) as far as he could because he knew she wouldn't back down.

(Y/n) couldn't say no and have him call her weak or tell her she should be on maternity leave if she 'wasn't going to do any work around here'.

"No kidding," Hen muttered with a smile that made (Y/n) feel at ease.

She grabbed the door and carefully climbed down so she could follow Hen across the station floor, unsure where they were actually going. There hadn't been a callout in almost two hours, which left everyone pondering around, wondering what they were supposed to do with themselves.

(Y/n) had started to feel useless at the station while Bobby was in charge because he didn't let her assist on a lot of calls, for safety. But now with Gerrard here, (Y/n) felt like she was at her wits end, she was wearing herself thin and it was draining the patience both Evan and Eddie had.

Both men could see the toll the job was taking on (Y/n) and they were starting to worry about her.

"So, how's you and the little guy doing?" Hen aimed towards the stairs and when she pointed to the kitchen, (Y/n) nodded. It was almost lunchtime and there was nothing else for them to be doing. While they had the time, they may as well see if they could get something to eat with the team before the bell sounded and they were all off again.

(Y/n) moved her hand down to her stomach, rubbing circles over her shirt as she smiled softly. "We're good, I think he's asleep right now. We've got another scan next week."

"Hm, I think Buck may have mentioned that once or twice." Hen bit back a laugh when (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

Evan told everyone whenever they were going for a scan. He and Eddie both tried to be there for all of (Y/n)'s appointments if they could and of course, he told people when they were going for one. He was always telling Maddie first though because she loved to see and have a copy of the scan photos.

He took pleasure in telling his parents just to see the way his mother looked drastically ill at the thought of her first grandchild having three parents rather than the conventional mum and dad.

Eddie's parents were still taking time to adjust to Eddie's relationship, but they couldn't be as cold or uncaring as they first felt because they both had a soft spot for Evan and (Y/n). And they knew that Eddie and Chris were happier than they had ever been so it was hard to dispute.

(Y/n) aimed for the table and took her usual seat while Hen went to grab a drink from the fridge. Both of them clocked Evan in the kitchen, moving from one counter to the next, first with a dish in his hand, and then with a wooden spoon, and then with a tea towel tossed over his shoulder.

Without Bobby here, Evan had silently taken over with the cooking. It just seemed to make sense. He loved cooking, it was something he enjoyed and took his mind off of the crude, callous Captain they now found themselves with. And everyone loved his cooking. They all let him get on with it. The only person who was grumpy about Evan's food was Gerrard because he couldn't find anything wrong with it no matter how hard he tried.

"Hey mi amor,"

A grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips and she tilted her head back, slouching down in her seat when she felt a familiar pair of hands on her shoulders.

"Hi." She reached up to give Eddie's hand a squeeze and her chest fluttered when he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Clearly Gerrard wasn't around if Eddie was dolling out the affection. The three of them had to be careful when they were on shift together. If he caught them so much as standing too close to one another he either made a snide joke or tried to reprimand them and pull them up on being professional while on shift.

But when he wasn't around, kisses were shared in quiet corners and touches were shared behind closed doors.

The only times Gerrard couldn't say anything was when they sat together at lunch or in the fire truck. He couldn't say anything about proximity when they were all sat next to one another, on their best behaviour about being professional. And they took full advantage. In the back of the truck while Gerrard sat up front, he couldn't see or say anything about Eddie's hand wandering up and down Evan's thigh or Evan's hand on (Y/n)'s stomach or his lips against her temple.

Eddie took a quick glance towards the stairs before moving his lips further south and capturing (Y/n) in a quick kiss. He savoured the touch and relished in the feeling of her hand slithering up to cup his neck.

But his lips crinkled and his nose twitched when he swiped his tongue across her lips and was met with a familiar tang. Blood.

Eddie's eyes snapped open and he pulled back just enough so his lips were hovering an inch above hers so their breaths mingled together. His brows knitted together and his chest tightened when he saw the dark rouge colour running down her nose and across her lip.

"Mi amor, head forward for me." He gently gripped (Y/n)'s chin and tugged her head down, causing her to sit up straight and lean over when she realised what was happening. "Buck, paper towel please." Eddie clicked his fingers in Evan's direction until their partner looked their way.

A quiet "Shit," passed Evan's lips and he spun around, grabbing a wad of paper towels from the side before he headed over to the pair of them.

(Y/n) pressed her hands down on the tabletop, feeling Eddie's chest pressing down against her shoulders and his chin hovered near her neck so he could look over her shoulder. His hand stayed cupping her chin and he gratefully took the paper towels from Evan and held them against (Y/n)'s nose.

Nosebleeds had been (Y/n)'s enemy since she got pregnant, she seemed to have them frequently now, but they didn't last long.

The worst one she had was last month during the night. Evan woke up with (Y/n)'s head on his chest and a river of blood running across his skin. He thought for a dreaded minute that he was having some kind of accident like he was waking up from anaesthetic in the middle of an operation.

A headache started to roll in behind (Y/n)'s eyes and she swallowed down a groan, closing her eyes as she concentrated on breathing through her mouth. She kept her head tilted forward like she was going to headbutt the table. At least this one didn't feel heavy, she wasn't coughing blood everywhere like she had last time.

"Let's have a look, sweetheart." Evan slumped down into the seat next to (Y/n) and took the wad of tissue from Eddie's hand, dumping the bloodied tissue on the table.

He gently held (Y/n)'s chin and lifted her head up, a smile fluttering across his lips when he saw that the bleeding seemed to have stopped now.

"You good?"

"Yeah, sorry." She grabbed another paper towel and swiped it across her lips, trying to make sure all traces of burnt orange were clean from her face. The last thing she needed was a certain someone making a comment or telling her to go clean herself up.

Eddie kissed her hair and rubbed his hands up and down her arms but when he heard those thunderous boots hitting the stairs, he audibly growled. Just what they needed, Gerrard coming to make a scene.

"Buck, is this done?" Hen motioned to the tray of piping hot lasagne in front of her, both because she was hungry and to get Evan back to his cooking station. They didn't need to have another argument break out, they all argued almost every shift with Gerrard and it was doing them no good.

With pursed lips, Evan tried to smile. He gave (Y/n)'s chin a light squeeze and tilted her head in his direction so he could have a kiss. His fingers brushed across her cheek and when he pushed up, he paused midway to let Eddie lean over and snatch a kiss as well. He darted back to the kitchen just as Gerrard stomped up the stairs, his usual unimpressed look painted over his face.

His eyes set on Eddie immediately and he rose a brow, clearly disgruntled to see Eddie standing so close to one of his partners.

Gerrard didn't like different. He didn't like anything that challenged or differed from the old ways, the generic and safe boundaries of society. He didn't like Chimney for racial reasons. He didn't like Hen for homophobic reasons. He had a grudge against Evan for being in a poly relationship and finding out he wasn't part of the 'white boy' gang Gerrard used to have when he first came to the station ten years ago.

He didn't like Eddie both for his poly relationship and because of his heritage. He wasn't a fan of him being with two people, one of them being a man also hit like a bullet.

For the same reason, he didn't like (Y/n) for her relationship, for being a woman, and he liked to think of her as weak now she was pregnant.

They all had targets on their backs, but the three of them had bigger markers for Gerrard. He liked to rile them up and see how far he could go, he had more reasons to go against the three of them and being in charge of them gave him a power trip.

For once, Eddie didn't make a move to sit down. They had all agreed to stand up to Gerrard by catching him out. Whenever he made comments, they noted it down and sent a report. When he treated them unfairly, they documented it and then sent a copy to the chief. If he tried to be out of line with them, everyone made sure to drag the conversation somewhere public. As long as they had at least one witness, Gerrard had to watch what he said.

But Eddie wasn't in the mood to play nice right now. His hand stayed on (Y/n)'s shoulder and he stayed standing behind her chair with one leg crossed over the other and his other hand on his hip.

"Diaz," Gerrard nodded at him but when he went to approach the kitchen, presumably to try and take a jibe at Evan, he paused. His head turned to the left and he locked eyes on (Y/n), taking note of the paper towel in her hand and the scrunched up, bloodied pile on the table. "Jesus, not another one, or has there been a disagreement I didn't know about?"

He took a quick look around as if expecting to find someone with bloodied knuckles, indicating a fight had taken place. The quirked smile on his lips made Eddie shiver and had him ready to start a disagreement right here and now.

Before anyone could comment, the alarm bell sounded and dispatch came through the tanoid speakers.

Right when they were going to sit down to eat.

A chorus of groans sounded throughout the kitchen as everyone put down whatever they were doing and listened to the announcement to see what kind of call they were going on.

"Okay, you all know what to do, don't you?" Gerrard pointed his thumb over his shoulder and took a step back to watch them filter towards the stairs. He paid particular attention to Evan who frowned and planted both hands down on the counter while he listened to the dispatch describing the call.

"Uh, that's a high code building fire."

"Yes Buckley, it is." The sarcasm dripped from Gerrard's voice and he moved his hand, motioning for Evan to leave the kitchen and aim for the stairs. His tone caused Evan to roll his eyes and hunch up his shoulders, trying to draw in a deep breath to control himself.

"So (Y/n) shouldn't be going on this call." They all knew the rules. (Y/n) was on light duties. She couldn't go into a fire, not even if she was suited up and with her team. She couldn't assist on fires, on multi-car pile ups or any calls where there was a dispute with weapons involved.

She was a spare set of hands only. She helped as a medic or to get equipment set up or to direct people on scene. (Y/n) was effectively a shadow on a lot of calls but it was to keep her safe. She would be on maternity leave next month because after seven months it would be too dangerous to go on any call outs.

They had everything agreed and in place with Bobby. Why did Gerrard have to turn up and tip the scales?

(Y/n) took a deep breath and snook a glance up at Eddie behind her when his hand tightened on her shoulder. She didn't want to be an issue or cause problems. If Gerrard wanted her on this call she was happy to go, she would only be sorting the equipment and the hose and looking after the casualties anyway, she wouldn't be suiting up for the fire.

She pushed up from her seat, scrunching up the used tissues to throw in the bin. The moment Eddie's touch left her body, (Y/n) felt bare and unprotected and it made her conceal a shiver.

Passing Gerrard made her feel worse. She could feel his eyes scoping her up and down with a raised brow. His nose crinkled and his upper lip curled in distaste as he looked at her like she was a nuisance he didn't want around.

"Are you in charge now, Buckley?" When Evan didn't answer, Gerrard looked at (Y/n). "You're part of this team, that means you pull your weight. You can handle doing your job, can't you?"

Something snappy and sarcastic was on the tip of (Y/n)'s tongue, but she pushed it away like a foul taste in her mouth and settled for nodding her head, muttering a quiet "Of course," under her breath.

"See."

"Isn't it your job to oversee everyone's safety? She's on light duties-"

"She can do the job as background support. I oversee the smooth running of this place and I make sure my team pull their weight. If she doesn't mess up, she won't be in danger, will she?"

(Y/n) shuddered when Eddie kicked the chair under the table so harshly all four table legs scraped against the floor. She felt his hands on her waist and she forced her feet to move, hoping Eddie would follow after her and not stop to start a fight. They all needed to go get ready before one of them said something that would get them disciplined or suspended.

They could hear Evan throwing the tea towel across the counter and huffing as he made quick work of following after them.

They didn't give a damn about Gerrard or his orders. If he wanted the team to work, they would all continue to look out for each other. If (Y/n) couldn't do something, the boys would do it for her. They would 'pull her weight' in the team as it were and shield her behind them. They would do the job for her so Gerrard had no means to pick on her.

***

"I can't go in there." (Y/n) could feel the palm of her hands beginning to sweat as she looked up at her Captain who she had a growing distain for.

She didn't like standing up to him. She preferred the boys or Hen to point out when Gerrard was wrong and tell him the codes of conduct to prove that his actions weren't justified. They usually left that to Evan, his ADHD gave him a good memory for facts and visuals and he had all but memorised the handbook. He could pull out any rule, section or code to call Gerrard up on.

And right now, (Y/n) couldn't remember the specific codes, but she knew Gerrard was trying to break them.

"I'm telling you to suit up and get your ass into gear, (Y/l/n) we need to get this fire under control-"

"I can't go in there and if you order me to you're making me a liability on the team. Please." Her head started to shake and her hands ran up and down her overalls.

She was going to be sick. Her head was pounding. She was going to have another nosebleed.

If (Y/n) went into that building she was putting herself and her unborn baby at risk and she would become a liability because if she fell or tripped or went dizzy she would waste precious time. The team might have to spend more resources and effort to find her and help her out and she would become one of their casualties rather than one of the team.

(Y/n) wasn't supposed to be here, she shouldn't be on site of this building fire, it was a risky call and Bobby would have made her hang back at the station if he were in charge. Hen would of made the same call too. Gerrard was taking his leadership too far and breaking the boundaries.

She could see the rage bubbling up inside his eyes and his hands clenched into fists and for a moment, (Y/n) wondered if he was going to step forward and hit her. But then his finger pointed between her and the truck and his curved nose crinkled and twitched like a rabbit.

"You being on this team is a liability in itself." His words made her shoulders quake and she coiled in on herself, holding back tears. "Now suit up. If you won't go in the building, then you can man the hose from the doorway and get this fucking thing under control, or I will reprimand you. Understood?"

Her legs started to shake as she spun on her heels and stormed towards the truck.

Everything was shaking. Her heart was hammering against her chest. The baby was twisting and threatening to make her sick. Her fingertips turned numb and she could barely feel her hands when she reached out for her helmet and shrugged on her jacket.

Putting on her gloves made her hands feel like blocks of ice, unable to bend or move the way she wanted them to.

(Y/n) swallowed a few times to try and calm herself down and make sure she didn't throw up. That was the last thing she needed right now. She looped the hose over her shoulder and trudged towards the building.

Chimney and Eddie had gone up on the ladder to evacuate the top floor and put out the separate fires up there. Hen and Evan were inside the building with most of the 138 team to get it under control. (Y/n) was supposed to be on standby, getting things off the truck and helping as a relief medic when the patients started to filter out.

She wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the building itself. This was dangerous, but as long as she wasn't going inside, (Y/n) would do what she could to help. She never worried about feeling useless on the job until Gerrard came in charge.

"Hose!"

She motioned the hose on her shoulder when she saw Hen hurrying out the doors, presumably for more resources like this.

A deep frown set into Hen's features when she saw how close (Y/n) was and (Y/n) realised it looked a lot like she was about to rush into the burning building as back up. That wasn't what she was doing. She wouldn't put herself and her baby at risk like that.

"What are you d-"

Whatever Hen tried to say drowned out when a blast shocked the foundations of the building. All the windows on the first floor burst. Gusts of air and billowing motions of smoke soured through the windows and out into the open air.

The surge and the backlash knocked everyone within a ten foot radius off their feet, including the girls.

(Y/n)'s eyes snapped closed and her hands tightened around the hose as if it would somehow work as a harness or a rope to hold her up and prevent a harsh fall. It didn't. The blast sent her backwards and took her feet from beneath her. She went down on the pavement with a thud and she was relieved she had her helmet on or the force would have knocked her out.

All the oxygen escaped her lungs and (Y/n) laid on her back, jaw hung down, lips murmuring as she tried to suck in a proper breath and get her chest working again.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n)… you with me?"

She felt Hen kneeling beside her and it made (Y/n) wonder how long she had been laid there, gasping for air. Her eyes opened with some force and she blinked through the smoke that made it look like midnight rather than midday.

Hen's worried expression came into view and (Y/n) managed to nod and wrap her hands around Hen's arm that was stretched out in front of her. She let her friend reel her up into a sitting position and she took a minute to shake her head and gather her senses.

Just a little fall. A relatively small blast considering the structure was still standing and the building foundations hadn't been wrecked. (Y/n) hadn't even broken a bone.

When Evan got hit by lightning, the force had been so great that (Y/n) fell backwards and toppled off the truck. She dislocated her shoulder and broke a rib from that impact. This was nothing compared to that.

"I- I'm good."

Hen looked doubtful. She rose a brow and quirked her head to the side as if to say she didn't believe (Y/n). She reached out for (Y/n) and did a quick assessment, trying to gage whether she had any cuts, bruises or dreaded broken bones.

When Hen's gaze dropped down to (Y/n)'s stomach, she tilted her own head down and followed her gaze.

She hadn't landed on her stomach or her side, she had fallen straight on her back which was relatively lucky if (Y/n) had to fall at all. Her stomach hadn't been jostled, she felt okay and she could feel the baby wriggling too which was a good sign.

"Let me take a look at you." It sounded more like a question than a statement and (Y/n) found herself nodding along.

She felt okay, she had had a lot worse over the years and she had done more damage with harsher falls. But she had never been pregnant before and (Y/n) knew it would put both their minds at ease if Hen just gave her a once over. Just to be safe.

"Both of you, walk it off and get back in there." Gerrard pointed over at them before he grabbed the radio on his shoulder and presumably sent a snarky order out to someone else or to dispatch.

"I need to examine her-"

"Do you see her screaming in pain, Wilson? She's fine, get up and get back to work before this whole place goes under. Now!"

Twisting her head, (Y/n) looked up at Hen and tried her best to smile and hold back a flinch. She was fine, as long as she could get up with no obvious pains she would be okay to carry on.

(Y/n) gratefully accepted Hen's arm, smiling weakly when Hen took her weight and easily helped her up to her feet. She could feel her head starting to swim and float when she was up on her feet and her knees trembled but after a few seconds, her body started to level itself back out again. Just like hitting a reset button on a computer.

(Y/n) dusted her gloves across her jacket and over her knees, getting rid of the sprinkles of glass that dropped down on them like the first fall of snow. She was okay. She didn't even feel sick or any pain anywhere and when she danced her hand over her abdomen, she smiled. The baby was wriggling and kicking. He was fine too.

"Are you sure you're good? If not tell me and I'll-"

"No, no fussing, come on we've had worse." If the baby was moving and (Y/n) didn't have any pain except for a few twinges and bruises, she was good to go. They were in the middle of an emergency and Hen had a job to do, (Y/n) wasn't going to get in the way and distract her and provoke Gerrard's wrath.

"What the Hell are you doing?!"

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine and her eyes darted around, frantically trying to find where that voice came from. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or frightened when she realised it was Evan calling out to her. If it was Gerrard again she would be in for a disciplinary talk, but knowing it was one of her partners only made (Y/n)'s worry spike.

Evan stormed over to them like a God walking amongst humans and the demanour glowing around him made him tower over the people he bypassed to get to them.

His clenched hands uncurled and reached out for (Y/n) the moment she was within reach. He gripped her upper arms, pulling her closer whilst simultaneously nudging her back so she was away from the building in case a secondary explosion rocked the street.

"Evan-"

"You shouldn't be anywhere near the fire-" Something dawned on him and flashed across his pupils before he was looking her over frantically. "Are you okay?"

"The blast knocked us off our feet-"

"But I'm okay." (Y/n) finished for Hen, looking between the pair of them before she gripped Evan's shoulders to try and get him to look back at her.

"Get back in the truck."

"Stop this mother's meeting and get your asses back to work I've already told you once. Top floors are evacuated and simmered down, we need that ground floor fire under control before the foundations are burned to cinders." Gerrard's voice barked like a rabid dog and his teeth flared and flashed in the glimmering sunlight trying to break through the smoke.

He pointed his hand towards the building before he clapped his hand and pointed someone nearby to turn on the hose on the truck. They needed this situation under control, standing chatting in the street wasn't going to help.

(Y/n) shivered when Evan's voice cut across the top of her ear, telling her again to get in the truck.

His hand found her lower back and he pointed her in the right direction. He didn't care if she sat in the truck or the ambulance. Hell, Evan didn't care if (Y/n) sat on the pavement or if she went and sat with some of the other medics and helped the casualties. He just needed her away from this building so her and their baby weren't in any danger.

He tried to get (Y/n) to walk over to the truck but he felt her shudder and back up into his chest when Gerrard looked directly at her. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. The blazing fury in his eyes told them all if they didn't move right now, he was going to be spitting feathers and his next words wouldn't be pretty.

(Y/n) didn't know what to do. She didn't want to stand back and do nothing, but she couldn't go near the building until it was cleared and coded as safe. And she could feel Evan's hands on her arms, squeezing tightly before he nudged her to walk in the opposite direction.

Evan didn't want to, but he let go of (Y/n) once she took a few steps away. His body rattled in frustration, panic and an overload of adrenaline that was fueling his anger.

His fingers shook through his gloves as he reached down and grabbed the hose, tossing it over his right shoulder so he could get back to work.

"(Y/l/n) where the Hell are you going-"

"She's not going near that fire." Evan tilted his head back and kept his eyes straight ahead, trying not to spare one little glance towards the shorter man on his right who was grating on his last nerve.

"(Y/l/n) I gave you a direct order and you, Buckley, aren't in charge here. Get back to your original post."

The hose on Evan's shoulder slid down to the crook of his elbow and he turned sharply until he was face to face with Gerrard. His left hand reached out and gave him a rough shove in the shoulder while his nose crinkled and his jaw locked so tightly Evan thought his teeth were going to break.

"Your orders are bullshit."

"Think carefully about your next words."

"Your orders are bullshit and violate the handbook by putting a pregnant worker at risk. And by picking on her because she's pregnant, you're discriminating against her. She stays in the truck or I go and get a second opinion from Captain Truman, this is his callout, not yours."

Evan was begging for a fight. His shoulders tensed up and his head tilted back as he prayed, willed, hoped, for Gerrard to disagree with him. He wanted Gerrard to bite, to snap and shout and scream and show his true colours because then Evan had some leverage.

He could go over to the Captain of the 138 and ask for his orders and tell him there was a worker on this scene who was pregnant and in the line of duty. The 138 got to this callout first and it made their Captain the lead in this operation, he had the discretion and the control here.

Evan could see a vein throbbing in Gerrard's neck and he was quite sure that his new Captain was on the verge of combusting like a molecule. But he didn't. Gerrard didn't say anything. All he did was point towards the building, and Evan took that as his win.

He knew they would be having words when they got back to the station, but he was already formulating his defence and if that didn't work, Evan would be finding the number for Chief Simmons.

He wasn't going to stand for this any longer.

***

(Y/n) could feel her head beginning to swim as she leaned to the left until her burning temple was slumped against the window.

Her head was pounding. Her stomach was starting to ache and cramp and she was sure it was because they had skipped lunch and seeing Evan interact with Gerrard had put her on edge.

She felt Eddie's hand on her thigh and after a few seconds, she realised he was leaning down against her and his lips pressed into her temple.

Evan was sitting opposite them with a face like thunder. His jaw was grinding so much they could all hear the joint clicking back and forth. His hands were clenched into fists and pushing down onto his thighs, creating indents in his trousers. His knees were bent out to the sides and his back was straight against the seat while he stared out the window, not looking at any of them.

They all knew he and Gerrard were going to be having an argument when they rolled up at the station. Everyone was anticipating and dreading it. Hen was ready to call the Chief herself for back up. Chimney was ready to stop a fight from breaking out and debating whether or not to call Bobby to diffuse the situation.

And Eddie was waiting for anything. He was waiting for them to pull up at the station so he could tell Evan to go home. Go talk to Bobby. Talk to the Chief on his own, just avoid an argument at all costs. Arguing would only set Gerrard on the rest of them and if Evan spoke out of line, Gerrard would have his neck for it.

But Eddie couldn't help but worry about their girlfriend. She hadn't spoken since the fire had been put out and they were all cleared to head back to the station. She slumped in her seat in the truck and seemed to switch off completely and that wasn't like her.

Everyone jumped like they had been shocked when the truck started to reverse into the station.

They barely managed to fling their belts off before Gerrard was out the truck and his voice was compelling them forward.

"Everyone out. Now."

(Y/n) could see stars in front of her eyes when she tried to stand up. Her knees were shaking and her stomach felt like it was trying to drop down to her feet. And her back, oh her back right between her hips was aching with every throb of her heartbeat. She must have landed funny during the blast and taken a harsher landing than she thought.

She kept one hand on her stomach and used the other as leverage to slowly climb down from the truck.

"Alright, now everyone listen up."

Her limbs began to shake as she moved to stand in between her boys. Part of (Y/n)was desperate to run and hide. To hurry up to the kitchen or lock herself in the toilets to be away from Gerrard because this wasn't going to be good.

He was going to direct most of his anger towards her and Evan. He would give them all clean up duty, give them hard and pointless tasks, make them feel worthless. He was going to punish them for his own mistakes that he had made on purpose.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) looked down at her boots and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other. She curled her right hand around the back of Eddie's bicep and leaned into him while her other hand rested on her stomach, something she hated to do in front of Gerrard, but right now she didn't care.

She felt sick. The baby was twisting and kicking and there was a dull ache she couldn't ignore.

She silently prayed for the baby to stay still so she could concentrate, but it didn't help. All (Y/n) could focus on was the pain in her back, the unusual ache in her stomach and her heartbeat that was thumping throughout every inch of her skin.

"Now that was a shit-show out there and every one of you ought to be ashamed." Gerrard's voice boomed around the station and echoed back to him, but (Y/n) barely heard him over her pulse rushing through her ears.

Panic and terror clawed their way into (Y/n)'s heart when a rather strong pain tore through her abdomen. She pressed her palm down harder on her stomach and twisted herself to the right so she could press her forehead into Eddie's bicep. She didn't care if Gerrard noticed and called her out on being so close to one of her partners.

She didn't feel well.

His words continued to rocket through the air and send them all reeling and most of them either looked up at the roof beams or stared down at their shoes to avoid his horrid gaze.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths through her nose but her shoulders tensed up when another pain ignited in her stomach and she realised it was similar to a cramp.

Her knees bent forward and she pushed down like she was trying to squat, although (Y/n) wasn't sure what she was doing or if she was trying to sit down or not. She was just trying to make the pain go away. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip but it didn't stop a small sound from escaping and she tugged on Eddie's hand while her other arm bound into her bump, pushing down to relieve the pain.

"Oow," Her face meshed into Eddie's arm causing her tears to trickle down onto his arm and she felt his free hand quickly gripping her left arm to stop her from going down to the floor.

"Hey, hey what's wrong? What's happening?" Eddie's nails scratched into (Y/n)'s elbow to try and keep her upright and his eyes flitted from her to Evan who was quick to hold onto her hips.

"Oh for God's sake what's the problem now?" Gerrard's hands found his hips and his foot began to tap against the polished floor. "If you're gonna start this (Y/l/n) then go home-"

"She needs a doctor." Hen snapped defensively before she turned her back on him and moved to stand beside Eddie, looking over at her friend.

They weren't going to let him belittle (Y/n) right now when she was clearly in agony and something was wrong. When she had her frequent nosebleeds he taunted her and made her feel like a child. He made everyone afraid to speak out if they felt ill or if they had a problem, but (Y/n) especially. She didn't dare complain or say anything because Gerrard wanted any excuse to tell her she was weak and if she was pregnant then she shouldn't be here. But this was different.

Evan was sure he heard Gerrard mutter "I don't fucking believe this," under his breath but when the Captain stormed off towards the bench, Evan felt a little better. He knew Gerrard was going to stay and watch, waiting for his moment to strike and tell them off or try and bark out an order, but everyone would ignore him for the time being.

"Okay, let's sit you down, hm?"

(Y/n) kept her face meshed into Eddie's arm, trying to stifle her tears but she managed to nod. She felt him move round so he and Evan both had one of her arms each and they slowly lowered down to their knees with (Y/n) between them.

Once she was down on her knees, she leaned over and tried to bury her face against Evan's thighs. The compressing weight on her stomach made her feel a bit better, but a groan mixed with a whine burned at the back of her throat when Eddie carefully reeled her back up. He couldn't examine her like that.

"What hurts, baby what's wrong?" Evan gently cupped (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head back so she was looking up at him through tears.

"I- there, hurts there." She shakily moved Evan's hand from her arm to the lower side of her abdomen and her words set his heart rocketing in his chest.

He had been praying she wouldn't say something like that. He hoped she would have some sort of back pain or stomach ache, but not something to do with the baby. They couldn't have an issue now with the baby when everything had gone smoothly up to now.

"Let me look." Eddie's voice was soft and he glanced between both partners before he shuffled round so he was in front of (Y/n) with Evan pressed up on his right side.

He managed a weak smile when Hen grabbed a medic bag from the truck and placed it down beside him.

His hands shook as he reached out for (Y/n)'s stomach and started to prod around. He pressed the heel of his hand into various parts of her abdomen, trying to feel how the baby was laid and if he could feel anything out of place.

Part of him was hoping to feel a hernia because at least that wouldn't be an issue with the baby.

"Okay, let's check your BP."

He slid the strap up (Y/n)'s right arm that he placed over his thighs and clipped an oxygen pulse monitor on her index finger. He waited a few moments until the monitor beeped and his brow arched when he saw the numbers.

"Pulse and BP are high, I just wanna take a quick listen." Eddie's words confused (Y/n) until she watched him find a stethoscope in the bag and he softly lifted her shirt to reveal her abdomen to his eyes. "Baby's heartbeat is a bit low."

His words made (Y/n)'s shoulders quake and she leaned into Evan, unable to smother a sob.

She curled her left hand around Evan's arm, feeling his other hand cupping the back of her neck while she pressed her face into his shoulder as if trying to hide away would make her feel any better. Her right hand moved down to her stomach, pushing down to try and take away the cramps and she pushed up on her knees to lean more into Evan.

"No, no-" Eddie hooked the stethoscope around his neck before he reached out for (Y/n), grabbing her arms with alarming force. "Hen get the ambulance fired up. Baby, we need to take you down to the emergency room."

"W-why? Eddie, what's wrong?" (Y/n) didn't dare ask but she could see the panic in his eyes and the way he kept cracking his jaw and biting his lower lip. He was trying to put on his calm face, his medic mode to stop her and Evan from panicking, but it wasn't working.

They both watched Eddie's eyes dart down (Y/n)'s body before he held her gaze again. "You're bleeding and the baby's heartbeat is low, you need a scan."

Evan's fingers punctured into the back of (Y/n)'s neck and his chin perched on her shoulder so he could look down her back. Sure enough, he could see the blood patching into the back of her trousers and inner thighs. Blood loss and a low heartbeat meant there was some sort of internal problem, something wrong with the baby. They needed to get a scan to see what was going on and sort this before any lasting damage occurred.

Leaning over, Eddie held (Y/n)'s upper arms and went to try and help her up, but he stopped and looked over his right shoulder when he saw who (Y/n) was staring at.

She had locked eyes with Hen who wasn't moving towards the ambulance. Eddie told her they needed to go, either she or Chimney needed to drive the ambulance. Why weren't they moving?

"The blast, from the building fire today… we- we got knocked down." Hen looked between (Y/n) and the boys, guilt, panic and fear swirling in her pupils that looked like black holes.

"You fell?"

"I- it was only a tumble, I didn't- I felt fine-" (Y/n) clutched Evan's arms tighter, meshing her cheek into his shoulder as tears drenched her face.

Was this her fault? Had something happened because of the fall? She had felt fine, it wasn't even a proper fall, she just got knocked down on her back. That was it. She got up and dusted down and felt normal save for a few bruises, she didn't land on her stomach or bash her side or anything that would suggest there might be damage to the baby.

A sob bubbled past her lips while Evan tilted his head down to kiss the top of her head, carding his fingers through her hair to try and calm her down. This wasn't her fault.

"He didn't let me assess her." Hen turned on her heels and jogged towards the ambulance before she said something she shouldn't.

She should have insisted. She should have checked (Y/n) over anyway even if Gerrard told them both not to. She should have sent (Y/n) over to the paramedics on site and made sure she got checked, they might have picked something up or in the very least told (Y/n) to go down to the emergency room to be safe.

Anger seeped through every inch of Eddie's body but he forced himself to look down at (Y/n). If he looked over at his Captain he was going to lose control and start a fight that would get him suspended.

"Buck, up. It might be a placental abruption, we need to go."

Nodding, Evan slid his hands down to (Y/n)'s waist and looped his arms tightly around her. He let her shuffle further into his chest with her arms around his neck and with Eddie's hands on her hips, they both slowly pulled her up to her feet, sandwiching her between them. They could feel how badly (Y/n) was shaking and it was clear she wasn't going to be able to walk very far in this state.

They made an odd shuffle towards the ambulance but Evan's head snapped up to lock eyes with Gerrard when the Captain spoke.

"Wilson drives, Diaz goes. I'm not having my whole team disappear on this field trip. Han, Buckley, fall back."

That was a punishment. That was because Evan had spoken out against him earlier and pulled the rule book on him. This was Gerrard trying to get payback and his way of insulting them because he didn't understand their relationship. If Bobby was here he wouldn't hesitate to find cover for the remaining shift and let all of them go down to the hospital.

"You fucking caused this! We're taking her to hospital-"

"If you go there will be a record of action on your file and I can suspend you for your disobedience today Buckley."

Again, that wasn't fair and that was a punishment Gerrard couldn't enforce. Evan knew the rules. It was a record of conversation first and he couldn't be suspended on the spot without talking to the Chief, especially if Gerrard didn't have any backing or reasoning beforehand.

"After what you've done? I'm calling the union rep and the Chief from the hospital. We'll see who's ass gets fired for this." Eddie locked eyes with Gerrard for the longest moment before he turned away to face his partners again. Gerrard had put (Y/n) and their baby at risk, he wasn't getting away with this.

They all heard Chimney holler "All in," while he opened the back doors to the ambulance and it was clear what he was saying. They were all taking (Y/n) to the hospital. He wasn't waiting here for news, he was riding shotgun and taking one of his family to see a doctor. Hen wouldn't be coming back on shift until she knew if (Y/n) was alright or not. And the boys were staying with their girl.

(Y/n) managed to lift her head from Evan's arm to look between him and Eddie. She could see the thunder on their faces and the way Eddie's lips were snarling while Evan's lips were pursed and tense. But they both softened when they looked down at her.

Evan's arms squeezed around her and Eddie kissed the back of her head was they carefully eased her up into the ambulance.

They were going to look after her. And they were going to make Gerrard pay for what he'd done to them all.

[darkbluekies]

Let's say darling got a phone and had tiktok, how would the yanderes react if darling did the 'can you babysit my boyfriend/girlfriend?' Trend? :)

Lol i usually don't have the ideas to make these types of sillier reactions, but funnily enough I did yoday. I am not familiar with the trend and i couldn't find anything when searching so i'm guessing it is the "can you watch my boyfriend while I * do something*"

Warnings: mentions of pulling nails out with pliers

This is the first time exploring MODERN Edmund, so I don't know much about him yet, please excuse that

Silas:

He would probably be sitting by his desk, working. When you plop down the phone in front of him with the front camera pointing towards him, he would frown and look at you with an intense jealousy.

"Who are you filming this for? Who are watching your videos? Y/N? Get back here and tell me what the hell you are posting online and what kind of creeps are watching my wife/husband!"

Dr Kry:

He's sitting by his desk in his home office and filing some paperwork. He frowns in confusion and looks at you as you walk out. He turns off the recording in an instant.

"You have to excuse me, darling, but I don't want to be the punchline in your joke."

(Modern) King Edmund:

He has taken you on his private yacht to get away from all the cameras and attention directed onto you both — you especially, for some reason. You put your phone down in front of him as he takes in the sun on deck and walk away.

"What the fuck? Where did you get a phone from? Whoever gave it to you is dead."

Jerry:

She's eating a hamburger bigger than her face, trying her best not to spill too much sauce on herself. When you've placed the phone down in front of her and said to your "audience" to babysit her, she scoffs.

"What the fuck? Of course you had to do it when I have sauce all over my fucking face. Oh, now that we're here I can take the opportunity to make sure that you're not contacting anyone. If I find anything i don't like, babe, I'm pulling your nails out with pliers."

Hedwig:

She's putting on makeup in her bathroom as you come to put the phone by her and walk away. She looks after you, pouting, thinking that you had wanted to come in to hug her. She will take the phone and feel her heart sink. Since when did you have a following? Who are watching you?

"Y/N ... who are following you on this account? It's not many ... right? Can't we have a couples account? That way we can see what the other is ... doing. And people will know that we are together!"

[rupeenotruby]

@isasan347 made a post about Fable doing her ssbu stuff in front of Legend and I thought the idea was quite humorous and so I made a comic!

I chose to go with her lightning kick because her three main special moves are just the great fairy spells for OOT which would then belong to Time and her down b isn't very iconic since it is a more recent addition. Lightning kick has been there since the beginning and is the first thing I think of when I think of Zelda in ssb.

I started working on this comic a few weeks ago but had to put it on hold because of my finals. But now they are over and I have finished this! There is a lot I dislike about this comic (namely the dialogue, I didn't really script this out like I should)(If you have a better final punchline you are welcome to edit the panels with it (2nd to last), I changed it so many times and am still not the biggest fan of it). But there is also a lot I like! I actually finished it for one! Yipppe! I'm still figuring out how to draw everyone and wouf! It was a challenge (shoutout to four though he's a real one). I'm probably going to study their clothes a bit more before making another comic though. I'm also still figuring out how to write all these guys so they might be ooc, sorry about that too. Also here's the rough draft if you want to see it(if you zoom in you can see the original ending (maybe)):

Anyways, if you have read this far, I have a favor to ask: You see it has been a while since I have made a comic for human consumption, and I would like some feedback. Is the text big enough? Do you understand what is happening? Anything really bothering you about it? Anything you really like? Etc. Etc. I am open to constructive criticism.

I will take this time to complain about Zelda's horrible heeled-sandal-boots. They are evil and awful and horrible and every other negative thing you can think of. That is all.

[springtyme]

Hiii can we get some dating Richie headcanons :)

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐡 ♡

We certainly can! Thank you for the request, I love this disaster of a man so much! I had so much fun with this and I'm so excited for season two 💕 I also couldn't contain myself and made a Richie playlist

word count: 1.4k

Richie had almost given up on love before he met you. Almost.

After a series of failed dates and a couple of meaningless hookups it had seemed to him like love just wasn’t in the cards for him anymore. But then you had come along to prove him wrong. 

Despite how he might come off to some, Richie is definitely a lover boy. Putting himself ‘out there’ after his split with Tiff had been hard, but he knew that he deep down, in the essential core of his being, desperately craved to have someone to share his life with. 

Someone to come home to and share the little moments with. Someone to rant to about how Carmy had been acting like little bitch about the new dishtowels, or how another building downtown has been torn down to be turned into another fucking nightmarish cement parking house. Someone who he could have a laugh with and who would give him a chance to rise above the label of deadbeat loser that the universe seems to have put on him. Someone who could see him for who he truly is. Someone who wouldn’t judge him or think less of him for having sold a little coke from a back alley in a desperate situation. 

Richie will do anything for the people he cares for, so what if his methods are a little unorthodox? He is loyal to the bone and he cares, he fucking cares.      

And that is all he wants, someone to care for. Someone to love and someone to love him. That was all that he dreamed of before, but he had started to lose hope.

But then, when he finally had started to come to terms with the idea that that might never happen, he met you. 

It had all started with a slightly awkward date. He had been quite nervous, way more than he normally was. You just seemed too good to be true, way too good for someone like him anyway. He wanted to give off a good impression so bad that it slightly backfired, or it maybe would have backfired if you weren't you. 

He had been loud and acting confident in a way only a man who’s trying to hide how nervous he actually is can. He had been accidently laughing at his own jokes before the punchline had even landed and stumbling over his own words from time to time, but luckily for him you had found it rather charming. You couldn’t keep the wide smile from spreading on your face as he started rambling about Bill Murray and some old roman goddess. 

He had visibly relaxed after you had declared with a smile that you probably had to give him a call one of these days so you could hear the voicemail from the story, but that you certainly wouldn’t mind if he just happened to pick up the phone.   

He did pick up the phone when you called, and you were not disappointed in the slightest that it was Richie’s voice and not Bill Murray’s that had greeted you.

That first date turned into another, which turned into yet another one and no matter how scared he was that you would suddenly realize how much of a shitshow his life truly is he just didn’t seem to be able to scare you off.  

He’ll be your number one cheerleader, always so proud of you, and he will tell everybody who lets him about you. And he loves to show you off. You are in his opinion way out of his league and he is just so damn proud to have someone as amazing and beautiful as you to call his and to love.

He loves taking pictures of you. Just silly little pictures, you picking up produce at the farmers market or silly little selfies of the two of you as you wait in line at Arby's. He just wants to remember all the nice little moments with you.

He’ll proudly flaunt you on his instagram for all his 36 followers to see (well, 37 now that you follow him)

You will usually try and match your lunch break at work to fit with family at the restaurant. Stepping into the restaurant to be met with a huge smile from Richie is one of the highlights of your day. The staff of the beef are essentially family to him and he is so happy to share you with them. You have become part of that little family and it is more than Richie could ever have dreamt of.

Neither of you are in a rush with your relationship. He is a divorcee with a daughter and you have never had any wild dreams about a wedding or an on paper ‘picture perfect’ relationship with a house and a white picket fence. You just want someone who loves you for exactly who you are and that someone is Richie.

It is about a year into your relationship that you say ‘I love you’ the first time you don’t know if it is late or not but one thing for sure is that the love had been there from early on.

It was four months into your relationship that he had asked you if you would like to meet his daughter and honestly that had been a bigger confession of love than anything else could have been. He loves his daughter more than anything in the world and you know that he would never bring up introducing you to her if it wasn’t because he was serious about you and wanted you as a permanent part of his life.  

You had been a little nervous to meet her, you know how much she means to Richie and you had just really wanted her to like you. You had, however, not been the slightest bit nervous about how you would feel about her, she’s Richie’s little girl after all, a part of him, and you love every part of him. 

Luckily for you, she absolutely adores you, and you adore her. It had meant everything for Richie to know that his baby girl and you were getting along so well. 

It had been on that same night as you had uttered your first ‘I love you’s’ that he had asked you if you wanted to move in together. He had been so happy when you had kissed a ‘yes’ into his lips. 

Living together is everything Richie could ever have dreamt of. Not waking up to an empty bed and knowing that you are at home waiting on him when he comes home from work is like a dream come true.   

He is an early riser, usually you wake up to an empty bed, and even though you sometimes wish you woke up to warm, morning-cuddles it is always made up for by the sight of Richie in the kitchen. He is usually only wearing one of his, seemingly never ending supply of, ‘The Beef’ shirts and a pair of boxers.

His back will be turned to you as he’s in the midst of getting your coffee ready for you. It has become a fixture in your life with Richie, something you wouldn’t give up, even for all the morning-cuddles in the world.

You will sneak up on him and let your arms sneak around him, hugging him tight from behind and he will lean softly back into your embrace.

If he is having a smoke you will pluck the cigarette from his lips and take a few drags as you squish your cheek into his back and slowly let the comforting smell of brewing coffee wake you up. When the cigarette is smoked and ashed into the sink to later be thrown into the ashtray, Richie will turn around, engulfing you in his long, lean arms and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, kissing a ‘good morning’ into your still sleep-warm skin. 

Your relationship with Richie is warm and loving. It doesn’t mean that it is constant smooth sailing, but you always work through the bumps you come across along the road together. That is the true beauty of your relationship with him, the constant reassuring feeling of togetherness.

You are in his life to stay, you are family now and Richie will do anything to keep you happy and by his side.

[ravenna-reid]

hey babe! how you're doing?

so here's an idea i had. Maybe something like reader was kidnapped by joker, tortured just like jason but Batman saved her before the same fate as the second robin hits her. And Bruce -needs- jason to help her because he's the only one who passed through what she passed?? like, they're relationship could be something angsty, idk

Hey!! I'm doing well and I hope you are too! <3 Tysm for requesting!!! I love writing for ya'll and this idea!!!! This idea is everything omg....I hope you enjoy what I've written hehe

₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖

Old Scars - Jason Todd x Reader

TW: torture via electrocution, trauma (canon things)

Three and a half hours.

That's how Bruce had tried to smooth it over.

By saying it was only three and a half hours. But as far as Jason was concerned, that's three and a half hours too long.

"Bruce...fuck I can't believe he did this again."

"Me either..." Bruce murmured over the comms, barely audible. "It should never have happened."

It wouldn't have happened... if only you would let someone put the clown 6ft under.

The bitter thought repeated in Jason's mind like a broken record, but he kept it to himself. Because all he could think about right now was you and what had happened. All he could focus on was the traumas and fears that were resurfacing, itching away at him like a disease. Consuming him like a plague. And it was even worst knowing you had gone through it all too now.

₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖

Three and a half hours.

It'd only been three and a half hours...and yet it was feeling like an eternity. You spluttered on the water that had made its way into your mouth and down your throat.

The manic laughter was numbing your ears. The straps on your arms and legs were digging so deeply into your skin it was making your stomach churn. The burning in your veins and jolts tracing through your limbs were near unbearable.

Wasn't it ironic how your main weapons on patrol involved electricity. And now, the clown had you strapped to some sort of hospital bed; routinely dumping a bucket of water on you before turning up the volts attached to your limbs.

Well, that's what the punchline was according to Joker. That's what made this all oh so funny.

All you could think was how much longer?

How much longer until Bruce came? Or Dick, Cass, literally fucking anyone. Clark or Diana even.

But no matter how hard you fought to suppress it, that same thought repeated in your mind like a broken record.

No one had come for Jason. They were too late.

Black dots were swimming in your vision and your head was pounding. It took you a second to realise that no one was actually hitting it to cause that sensation. Everything was blurred and hazy, but he was laughing again. You could tell. And laughing meant another jolt of electricity.

No please. You just wanted to go to sleep. Close your eyes.

Maybe if you slept, the pain would all go away. Fade away like a sick dream. Maybe it'd stop. Just for a second.

"No.." You cried, then cursed yourself. This sick freak would find satisfaction in your begs, but the words fell from your lips before you could stop them.

"I can't...I..."

Your scream tore through the atmosphere as he flipped the switch.

Then...glass shattering. The clown falling to the floor. Pointed ears.

And finally...darkness.

₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖ ₊‧⁺˖

It'd been 30 minutes.

30 minutes of Jason standing outside your bedroom door.

But he just couldn't do it.

He knew how selfish it was. Selfish and cruel.

You'd both had been friends for a while now. Nothing major, not like you and the others. But he had a deep-rooted respect for you. You and your backstory, your unwavering morals and goal. He really did admire you...he just had a shitty way of showing it.

You were kind without being a doormat. Strong without being unhinged and violent. And you always appeared at the perfect time. Whether it was when he was outnumbered in a fight, in need of some extra bandages and headache medication, or when he was alone on a rooftop contemplating everything.

You seemed to have always appeared at the perfect time. And he couldn't even do that.

"You have to help her through this Jason, regardless." Bruce had said to him. Chastised him. Berated him.

"Do you think..." Jason trailed off, those horrible words dying on his tongue.

'Do you think she'll end up like me now?'

Bruce hadn't given him the chance to explain what he was trying to say. "Jason this isn't about you!" He had snapped, ripping Jason from his thoughts.

"Y/n needs you right now. She needs someone she can relate to. Someone who can understand. Can you do that Jason? Be there for her when she wakes up?"

So here Jason was, before your door 35 minutes later.

A stupid tremble began in his hands as he glared down at them. Begging them to just rise and knock on your damn door. Was it the fact that you had just been involved in something so heinous that was crawling under his skin? Or was it his visit with the past? Most likely both. It was most likely everything-

The door swung open, Alfred dressed in his usual attire, now bloody and dishevelled, and a mournful look on his face.

Jason's heart leapt into his throat. "Alfred, is she-"

Alfred raised his hand and closed his tired eyes. "She should be fine Master Todd. Few bruises here and there, but most of the damage is internal."

Jason let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding.

"That vile man..." Alfred began with the shake of his head. "Whatever he used to electrocute Miss y/l/n, it was made so that she wouldn't die instantly..."

"He wanted the moment to last as long as possible." Bruce was behind Alfred, face as blank as ever.

Jason stiffened. Frustration and panic and hate bubbling all at once inside of him. For who was to blame for this deja vu of a situation?

The clown that should have been killed, or the man that keeps protecting him?

"I'm glad you decided to come Jason."

Jason wanted to scoff. Huff in annoyance. But stuck to his bitter glare. "So she's alright? A-alive, she'll live?" He snapped.

"Yes, she just needs a lot of rest. She's not fully conscious yet but, you should still go in and see her."

Jason swallowed hard. "You can leave then."

Bruce tried to keep his temper, and to do so, he left with Alfred without another word. Alfred gave a weak smile for encouragement before Jason forced himself into the bedroom.

No doubt Alfred and Bruce had performed numerous medical procedures on you. 'Electrocution' Bruce had explained, for who knew how long. But he had assured Jason that he did everything he could, and that for the mean time, you should be ok...

The door squeaked as he shut it behind him, and suddenly it was as though the room was trying to swallow him whole, the only comfort being your scent.

The sun fought to break through not only the dark clouds outside, but the sheer curtains that were drawn over your windows. It casted dark shadows across your room, and they sat and watched as Jason neared your bed.

He wish he would stop fiddling with his hands. Stop sweating. Stop continuously swallowing. But he had no idea what state you were in. What he'd see once he looked down at you.

Nearing the bed, he saw your form nestled amongst the thick duvet and pillows. And as he quietly sat himself down on the chair beside your bed, he let out another sharp breath.

Your face was pale like snow. Colourless like the overcast sky outside. Your eyes were closed as you remained in your slumber, and Jason only hoped it brought you more peace than reality did. That the drugs you were hooked up to weren't keeping you trapped inside of a nightmare.

Was this what he had looked like afterwards? So sad? So silent and distant from the world?

Every now and then you twitched, and instinctively Jason reached out to you. He took his time, gingerly running the back of his finger across your bruised cheek. Brushed the hair from your face. Your skin was still cold.

How could he make you warm? How could he get rid of the cold?

He could still remember that cold, and he wondered where Joker had tortured you. Most likely not where Jason had been beaten with a crow bar, but his memory still dragged him back there. To that abandoned wing. The cold tiles. The dirt and grime and darkness. The laughter and weapons and tools...

Jason clawed his way back to the present only to be greeted with the full impact of the grief that came with the fact that Joker had done to you what had been done to him.

And Jason hated it.

With the lump in his throat and pain in his chest, he rose from the seat and quickly left your room.

He was glad you were asleep. At peace for the time being before awakening and having to deal with it all. He was glad that you were asleep so you couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

Clingy Baby masterlist

[alphajocklover]

hey there. I—-iiii—-I’m sorry, I’m a lil a little ner nervous here. I have this uh, like, um, shy. Uh. Shy persona. Im a nerdyaverage gay dude. And I wanna be able to talk in front of like um crowds. Actually I um, had something in mind. I wanna become a big, jacked jock straight comedian. Telling hilarious and sometimes cringe and crude jokes. Getting egged on by my maybe like um, frat bros or something to tell like obnoxious straight dude joke or something. Yeah. Like super douchebag funny guy muscle straight bro who is the life of the party. Young and dumb dude. Is there anything you have that could make this a reality?

It’s nice to meet you Mike! You don’t mind if I call you Mike do you? I know it’s not your name, but I don’t love using real names in my work… also, if I do this right your name could actually be Mike soon. I think that’s a good name for a straight douchebag comedian. It’s kind of a pun actually, a play on open Mike. You could call yourself Mike Dick. Get it, cause it sounds like ‘my dick’? Not funny huh? I’ll admit I’m not the best at this, but you’re the one who wants to be a comedian, not me. And I’m going to tell you how. You need to do what everyone who has stage fright needs to do. You need to get up on that stage… and just start talking.

I bet you're probably very confused right now. I know that the very idea of talking in front of people fills you with dread, and you came to me so you could get that confidence, not some cheesy advice. But I swear to you that I’m not just giving you empty platitudes. When you get up on the stage, in that spotlight, everything will be ok. Not because you believe in yourself, but because that spotlight is being powered by a very special battery. You might remember my supernova transformations, from my earliest stories. You might also remember that I was able to take some of the energy from it using a special solar panel and put it in a battery. While it turns out that if you use that battery to power a light source… It has an interesting effect. Any guy caught in its rays has they’re wish granted, while also being turned into a jock.when I discovered this I thought maybe I had finally found out how InstaJock works, but the transformation isn’t instant, and I’m not sure if you could get that energy to travel through an app or anything, so it’s probably something else.

Anyways, head on up! At first you’ll be your regular, shy and geeky self, but as you bask in the spotlight and start to open up, you’ll slowly change. Your muscles will slowly grow, your body and face becoming more chiseled, and your sense of humor will slowly become more… raunchy. Thoughtful comedy will slowly turn into cheap punchlines about ‘stupid queers’ and crude stories about ‘crazy bitches with huge tits’. Your audience might not like your new style, but a confident stud like you doesn’t care about what losers like that think, and you’ll be certain to get a following of beefy straight douchebags in no time. Especially if you turn that spotlight on the audience. Have fun, and try to use that spotlight responsibly. The battery won’t last forever, and I’m not going to give you a second one.

[partycatty]

dark star johnny hatefucking his gf/bf over the balcony in his mansion, and acting like he’s gonna drop them off of the balcony if they misbehave in any way

this one has been SIMMERINGGGG in my inbox ive been too excited to write it LOLOL, also i changed this prompt just a smidge

dark star!johnny cage > fall for me

warnings: SMUT AS FUCK, UR LIFE IS BEING THREATENED BUT UR INTO IT LOL, again ds!jc is just literally insane !! also exhibitionism !! and also cnc !! jesus this man needs hella warnings!

notes: IM SORRY U GUYS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG YOU ALL HAVE BEEN SO PATIENT SO IM REWARDING YOU

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 6*

[ masterlist ]

• dark star!johnny has a short temper, one he enjoys putting out on you. oftentimes, you didn't actually do anything, he's just mad at the idea of you going against him and that's typically enough to rile him up alone.

• this time around, you were a whopping ten minutes behind getting ready for one of his A-List parties. something about your makeup just didn't feel right no matter how many times you applied your eyeshadow or concealer, so adjustment after adjustment left johnny tapping his foot outside of the bedroom door.

• "baby~," he'd sing-song shout from the crack of the door. "this party is a big networking deal for me, and you're already fucking it up~!"

• "i didn't fuck anything up," you reply from the vanity seat, trying to focus on your lip liner. "we'll be on time, you baby."

• "don't you talk back to me!" he slams his palm again the wood, making you jump and, yet again, smear your liner. your lower your head to the vanity, bumping your forehead against the surface with a sigh.

• he eventually unlocks the bedroom door using his master key and ushers you out of the door with the temper of a toddler. his hand grabs your upper arm as you're placed into his luxury car and he drives off with a huff.

• johnny refuses to speak to you the entire time you're at the party, mostly ignoring you to bump shoulders with directors and writers. he wouldn't ever publically admit it, but roles were running dry as his agent turned up with no jobs, so he brought it up to himself to make some damn money.

• will probably call you the "ball and chain" or "the missus" in a super objectifying way as he gestures at you, trying to make the older higher-ups laugh. you had enough of it.

• deciding no longer to be his personal punchline, you wander away from the bustling, hot celebrity room and find a balcony. you were always the one to prefer fresh, open air and city skylines while johnny would rather be the one in the midst of the aforementioned city. you took advantage of this independence and leaned over the glass, savoring in the way the wind cools your damp skin.

• you only get to enjoy a few minutes in the quiet bliss before you hear the door slide open. at first, you expect it to be another partygoer hoping to squeeze in a quick smoke break, but you're horribly disappointed to be ripped from your tranquility by none other that your boyfriend.

• johnny stands at the door, fists clenched and jacket swirling in the wind. his eyes look dark, his brows furrowed.

• "where'd you go?" he asks, crossing his arms.

• you look at him like he's stupid (because he is). "the balcony?" you reply. johnny shakes his head.

• "that's not what i meant."

• "well, i left your side because i was tired of being shit on for an hour straight."

• "nobody's shitting on anyone!" johnny throws his arms in the air at your admittance, like he had no idea how cruel he was being. "they're just jokes! you're being dramatic. i thought you loved attention."

• "johnny-" you pinch your nose. "i have literally never said that."

• "but you show it! through your actions!"

• "oh my god, you're delusional," you turn away from him with a groan, trying to ignore the whiny bastard behind you. that proves a hard task when you hear his boots step up behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and head buried in your neck.

• "you know i want you here," he mumbles into your skin, rocking you gently. you turn your face away from him, not falling for his charm.

• "you don't show it," you mutter in response, trying to take a step away from him but his grasp only strengthens.

• "i could," he hums, pressing his front to your backside. "or i could punish you for making us late."

• you swivel your head, craning your neck to glare at him. "seriously? now?" he breathes into your neck, agreeing breathlessly. "no, johnny. not here. people will see."

• "isn't that the fun part?" he grunts, grinding his hips into your ass. "don't be boring. you've been boring all night."

• his hands hike up your skirt hungrily, exposing your nearly-naked ass to the cold air. you shiver and yelp out, which only makes you jump back against him even harder. he shudders at the contact.

• "come on," he whispers, hands snaking up to squeeze your chest. "don't make me be mean. you know i don't like being mean to you." his fingers find your hardened nipples, massaging them with pinched fingers.

• attempting to crane your neck to ensure the balcony's doors are locked, johnny notices your diverted attention and holds your jaw, angling it out toward the city.

• "you see that?" he breathes, now fully grinding against you. "that's my city, baby. i'm the king of hollywood, isn't that right?"

• "i guess," you reply, gasping at his erection sliding against you.

• SMACK! johnny didn't like that answer. you lurch forward from the hard slap to your ass.

• "say it," he growls, biting your neck. "or i'm gonna make you."

• "you're the king of hollywood," your voice is comically flat, exhausted from always having to gas him up for the dumbest things. johnny picks up on your unenthusiastic tone and spins you around by your hips, sitting you on the balcony ledge. his lips latch onto your throat, sucking and biting hungrily.

• his fingers danced on your panties, sliding them aside. as much as you wanted to be annoyed with him, he is so unimaginably fine. and you're the type of person that likes to be manhandled. both traits he ate up.

• before you could say anything more, johnny's fingers dove into your mouth, collecting a good amount of your saliva before using it on your pussy, shoving two fingers inside making you cry out in surprise.

• "not here, right?" he breathes, savoring the way your breathing gets heavier and your skin warms from his touch. "then we'd better be quick. and quiet." his fingers scissor inside of you, making you moan with a hand shut over your lips.

• johnny was impatient, not finding any joy in fingering you, so he glanced behind him to ensure the coast was clear before whipping his dick out, holding his shirt up by his teeth. he lined himself up, eyes focused on your bodies merging rather than your expressions.

• didn't matter how many times you get it on, you will never be fully ready for how long his dick is. while not the thickest, it just feels seemingly endless as it's embracing your walls.

• he spins you around again, throwing your front over the balcony ledge and holding you by your hips. surely, if he were to let go, you'd fall. and it wasn't a short drop.

• "fuck," he hissed as his tip met your entrance. "i control you, isn't that right?"

• a distant "mhm" slips from your lips as johnny shoves himself inside again with a slapping thrust. his gasp slides into whimper territory as he bottoms out.

• "fuck yeah i do," he growls, now going at an unholy pace. he hated the progression of sex - it was either all or nothing. "could drop you right now."

• you're pulled from your lust when you look down, noticing the rocky way down to a small river. damn these celebrities and their hillside mansions. you swallow thickly, hoping he was joking.

• "please don't," you beg in a whisper, interrupted by gasps with each thrust. "please don't let go."

• johnny could only laugh loudly at your plea, bruising your hips with his grip as he ruthlessly pounded. he was sticking true to his word about being quick, because his breakneck pace was making your cunt flutter.

• "nobody would even notice," he moans, his shirt dropping from his teeth and falling back down his front. "i'm the star."

• "you're the star," you parrot in a sick mix of lust and fear. "you're my everything."

• "i could fucking throw you off for making us late. could drop you — haah — you like it when i play god, don't you? you wanna fall for me, baby?"

• his brows knit and eyes screw shut as he finds his release inside of you. you try hard to not laugh at the fact that his own dirty talking is making him close. his grip loosens as he concentrates, and you fearfully try to hold yourself against the balcony so you don't topple forward.

• "joh— john—" you worriedly look down again, your stomach flipping as it nears an orgasm - and potential death. "johnny, please—"

• "hmm?" johnny tilts his head, a cocky smirk on his lips and exposing his beautiful pearly white teeth.

• your brain feels torn in half. you want to beg him to hold on, but you also want to cum so badly. unable to decide on an outcome, your voice sputters out pathetic begs, not entirely coherent as your mind grows foggy with an overwhelming amount of emotion.

• thankfully, your body decides for you. your knees buckle inward and his hold on you tightens. you cry out, cumming around his dick as your voice echoes through the hills. you swear a flock of birds takes off from how loudly you orgasm.

• "haah — don't fucking fall—" johnny's hands pull you impossibly closer. "not when i'm clo— ngh —"

• you find no peace after finishing, just johnny's hips slamming into your ass as his pants grow uneven. it's not long before he spills inside of you, holding you there as you're filled up.

• johnny's the first one to pull away, pulling out and making you whimper from the emptiness. you turn around to face him, your ass still bare, red, and spilling with semen. his phone's in his hand when he snaps a couple photos of this puppy eyed look.

• "you look so pathetic," he laughs, the flash of his camera making you shield your eyes. "i bet hollywood heard those moans. all thanks to me."

• you pull up your own panties and johnny visibly twitches seeing a droplet of his cum seep through. shockingly, he places a quick, chaste kiss to your lips.

• "and you're welcome for not dropping you," he winks with a toothy grin, thinking it was some kind of joke. a deep, dark part of you knew he probably genuinely considered dropping you. you were just lucky you were only ten minutes late, who knows what he'd do if you were an hour late.

• as you're pondering your life and near-death experience, johnny returns to the party, waiting for you at the door. it would be best if you stuck by him for the rest of the party.

[genericpuff]

Scamlords is at it again.

A few nights ago, there was a sudden blow-up in the /r/webtoons server showing a new announcement from Snailords -

For anyone unaware, Death : Rescheduled has been on mid-season hiatus since October. And it's now, and only now, that Snailords has suddenly decided the comic is ending after it returns, but readers can get an extra 20 episodes... if they fork over $1k in merch sales.

Now, this could be a lot worse. They could be threatening not to return to the series at all unless their readers hand over money. But considering it's practically just one degree away from that, it's still pretty nasty. Not to mention, the further they divulged in their reasoning around this "idea", the more confusing it got.

They also even revived their @snailordsrant account on IG which, for those of you who were there and can recall, was the same account they used to put one of their own fans on blast over some very mild criticism.

None of this makes any actual sense, for several reasons:

1.) I literally fail to see how getting $1k in less than 24 hours is worth shoving in an extra mini arc of 10 episodes if you don't even have it planned out. Why do that to your audience or to yourself? Why drag things out just to scrounge up an emergency $1k? Why not just be honest with your audience and run a GoFundMe or just say , "Hey everyone, I've run into some financial troubles, I would really appreciate it if you could FastPass my newest episodes or donate to my Patreon or buy some merch so I can cover the costs". It's really telling that this shithead doesn't have enough confidence in themselves or their audience that practically worships them that they have to resort to this kind of underhanded shit to get the money they need. I wanna make it clear that this is NOT like a Kickstarter stretch goal or anything that incentivizes readers to support their work, they're instead holding the length and future of their series over their audiences' head (which they've done before) for money. That's not an incentive, it's an ultimatum.

2.) Maybe I'm misreading / being stupid (someone pls explain if I'm missing something here) but I literally don't see how their comment about working 50 hours a week explains why they're suddenly getting their fans to pay out $1k worth of merch in less than 24 hours. For anyone who doesn't know, $1k per episode is an example Webtoons uses in its post discussing how they pay out creators (this came after the platform got called out 2 years ago for paying creators too little, there are undoubtedly creators getting paid less). And yet for some reason $1k is apparently the difference between 10 episodes and 20? How does that add up? And is the bit about them wanting to buy boba supposed to be a joke? Where's the punchline here?

3.) They say they have writer's block and they want to use the money to "motivate them", but then just a few slides later they say 10-15 episodes is what would make them the "happiest" so which is it? Do they want to write 10 episodes or do they want people to pay them to write 20 episodes so they can draw the fluff scenes that they apparently want to draw? If you have an ending planned out, why rush it or drag it out depending on how this "fundraiser" goes? Why not just write the ending you want to write that will serve your story best? Why shove in an extra mini arc that you don't even have full confidence in writing and then try to compare it to a "super expensive cake"? What are you doing? Speaking as someone who's had trouble getting motivated in the past, suddenly getting a month's rent worth of money to do it doesn't necessarily solve that, it just turns up the pressure, and if you're not someone who deals with pressure well, then you're more likely to wind up just burning out entirely rather than fulfilling that goal.

4.) The fact that they did, in fact, hit their goal just makes it all the shittier to think about because their audience is mostly made up of teenagers who worship the ground that they walk on. It's horrifying that they keep pulling these stunts with their audience, and getting away with it to boot - and Webtoons, as a company, keeps enabling it by allowing it to happen by hosting and promoting people like this.

Anyways, there's already a lot going on here that's sketchy, but then... they went and deleted their posts. At the time of this happening (as I was there to witness it all play out in real time) I assumed this meant that they had hit their $1k goal - especially as they had been showing their progress on their IG and they were already at $900 after just a couple hours - but it gave me a sinking feeling seeing them delete it because they had also been called out by some brave readers telling them that it wasn't exactly a good look to essentially blackmail their audience through their own content into giving them money.

Snailords deleting it gave me a stronger impression of "burying the evidence", especially now that they had the money. By all accounts, they could do whatever they wanted now.

So what did they decide to do?

. . . Huh?

Okay, take a second to actually think about what Snailords has done here. Because I know some of you will go "oh, it was for charity all along! that was nice of them!" but . . . I don't know about the legalities of collecting donation funds under false pretenses, but morally speaking, it's a really shitty thing to do. They stripped away the choices - limiting them to three - of what their readers could donate to, and what I think their readers don't understand - due to being mostly teenagers - is that they're tax-exempt individuals and they just unknowingly gave Snailords an easy $1k tax write-off. You really, really shouldn't collect donation funds like this without being honest, it's just a shitty thing to do, especially after you've already collected the money. It mostly just comes across as damage control on Snailords' part to make it seem like they were always planning to donate to charity, when in reality, if they wanted to donate to charity, they would have been honest about that at the start. Again, even if they wanted to do that from the start, it goes to show how little confidence they have in themselves or their audience that they have to stoop to methods like these instead of just doing it honestly.

And do you really think Snailords will actually do those extra episodes? Or donate that money? This is the same asshole who has manipulated their readers for money not once but twice, and now seems intent on doing it a third time just for the charm. This is the same person who practically sabotaged their own comic, Freaking Romance, because they apparently didn't like the romance genre and may as well have only done it for clout / views / etc.

What was especially odd - and I found this out from folks who actually read Death : Rescheduled (I do not) - was finding out that it wouldn't make sense for D : R to end in as many as 25 episodes, because apparently, the plot has basically just gotten going.

So it does seem like this is foreshadowing that D : R will wind up just like Freaking Romance, rushed into an ending that wasn't expected. And this, of course, has the people who read their work confused because D : R was supposed to be Snailords' passion project, their magnum opus, the project they wanted to do. So them holding the timing of an ending that shouldn't even be happening yet for ransom contradicts that original intention. Really, it just goes to show that Snailords has no passion, they're just in it purely for the money, to a degree that I can't even cheer them on for being a hustler because it's missing the honesty and integrity.

And of course, every single time Snailords finds a way to backpedal and take his audience for a ride, they hop right in without a single thought for themselves.

And no, none of this is to hate on the readers directly, I hold Snailords entirely responsible for this - they have an audience of impressionable, naive, gullible teenagers, and they know it, and take advantage of it every chance they get. It's why they weren't just honest about wanting to collect money for charity from the start. It's why they resorted to basically holding their own comic's progression for ransom during its midseason hiatus. It's why the deadline was 24 hours and why the posts are now gone.

Thankfully the Internet does what it does - any evidence that Snailords was trying to bury is now all over reddit, and hey, just for good measure, here's a post on Tumblr that's been sitting in my drafts for days now, days after people have already seemingly stopped talking about it. Don't let anyone bury or forget about the stunts Snailords is pulling on their audience, with a platform that they've been consistently given by Webtoons, because that's what they want you to do.

[shigayokagayama]

The Beach Omake And Authorial Intent

initially i was going to save this for a big teru analysis i had cooking however i eventually ended up deciding that it would feel like a really long tangent in its original context and probably deserves a separate post.

when it comes to the whole "teru's parents" thing i generally see two competing ideas on it

a. terus absent parents are the real villains of mob psycho and are the direct cause of everything wrong with his life and any and all teru analysis must center around this fact

b. terus parents being absent in the first place is only revealed in an omake and only exists for plot convenience and is not something that should be focused on at all when writing him

and whenever i see either of these my mind always drifts to the question of authorial intent. i know how people are reading this information, but how are we supposed to? i know death of the author is becoming more of a common thing in fandom spaces (albeit usually misused) but i feel like a better understanding of why this omake exists and how we're supposed to read it might help to better synthesize two takes that seems to be completely at odds with each other.

okay first i want to go over the actual placement of the beach omake in the update schedule of the manga because, unlike most other omakes, i feel like this ones placement in the schedule of page releases is actually super relevant

the vast majority of omakes come at the end of weekly updates. you finish reading the usually 15-20 pages ONE put out and then you get a little bonus comic at the end, usually something funny or a slice of life but but occasionally more serious. multi part omakes are usually spread out over multiple updates, making you wait a couple weeks for a punchline.

beach omake is not that. between chapters 99 (mob gets hit by a car) and 100 (the whole rest of the omake) there was a 6 week hiatus from normal pages and in this hiatus is where we get beach omake. reading it all together immediately cuts away the sort of "slice of life sunday paper comic" tone other multi part omakes have and make you read it as a part of the actual main story, since that's how you're used to reading these weekly updates.

now the actual tone. generally the multi part omakes exist to be long punchlines and the rare emotional ones are a single page for maximum impact. beach omake has a very different structure compared to, say, the haunted doll omake or the pot of happiness.

off the bat from the first two pages there's not really a joke. the tone mostly seems kind of melancholic. mobs expression for the middle section of the second page (maybe purposely) is obscured by the panel breaking off, it's hard to tell his reaction, all our attention is directed at teru. with all of the panels taken up by dialogue (primarily his own), we're being asked to focus on what he's saying:

-teru lives alone

-he lives alone because his parents live overseas

-he hasnt seen them in a while

-he doesnt like having nothing to do

-he doesnt like being alone

all of this information is delivered with an extremely casual expression from him, implying that it's not something that seems ll the out of the ordinary for him. mob, on the other hand...

the hesitation before he says anything and the way his expression is obscured seems to imply something is... off... about this information to him. this isn't a handwaved "oh mob is walking home from school after passing out because he needs to for plot reasons", we're reacting to this information like it's weird.

the next two pages are, mostly, a lot more of what we expect out of a mob psycho omake. the first one works as a standalone joke page, teru is bad at identifying animals which leads to him showing reigen a roach, something reigen is terrified of, instead of a beetle.

the second page starts similarly, we get a dumbass joke about reigen trying to pick up women at the beach (note: i think this is the singular time we get an indication reigen is even into women) but then the next two panels take on a more melancholic tone again. we get a small panel of mob and ritsu playing on the beach and a much, much larger panel of teru sitting on the beach, watching them. the dialogue bubble forces us to pay attention to the fact that he is silent.

the ending of this omake is where we bring it home. generally the last panel centers the punchline of the page, or of the whole omake, but the final panel of this isn't really what was being built to in this case.

we start our second page on teru. his expression is obscured, reigens speech bubble is shoved to the side so we can see that teru's hat is being held in his hands.

when we see his face in full view he looks... confused. he looks like he doesn't know how to react to someone going through all this trouble for him. teru is a character who, up to this moment, we have seen as extremely independent. he always rushes into things alone, he always has to be the hero, he always has to be the one to save the day. hell, this omake is immediately followed by the confession arc. where... you know.

so what are we supposed to get out of this omake?

teru's been doing everything on his own up to this point

but he doesn't have to anymore

[tobiasdrake]

Here we go, it's Ranma time. Episode 5! The introduction to Ryoga continues.

God, I love how mournfully quiet this is.

This is what happens when women write women. Male writers don't often think about things like just how much a long-haired girl's hair means to her. Akane's been growing that out for years.

Look at how little she was when she started growing her hair. That is the product of years. Many years. Gone in an instant.

But she rolls with the punches. Akane has remarkable emotional fortitude. She'd kind of have to in order to survive all the shit she's had to put up with in her day-to-day life.

I love that they leave so much unstated, yet clearly implied, about the way her long hair relates to her longstanding crush on Dr. Tofu. When she says she wants to grow it out so she can be like Kasumi, there's an implication there that she thinks Dr. Tofu will like her more if she has Kasumi's hairstyle.

She's trying to walk in her big sister's shoes so that the man who likes her big sister might look her way. An idea that was doomed from the moment of its conception. She was never going to beat Kasumi at being Kasumi, and if she has to try, then she's already failed.

The manga's a bit more explicit about this, as Kasumi directly tells Baby Akane that Dr. Tofu won't like her very much if she keeps acting like a boy. From that, she draws the conclusion that having hair like Kasumi will make him like her more. But the reboot anime keeps it implied and understated.

So there's a lot going on here when Akane breaks down and cries into Dr. Tofu's chest. This is the end of an era. The loss of her hair symbolizes the death of a child's dream. The end of her efforts to be more like Kasumi so that this man would like her better, and the beginning of a new era where someone else out there will like her for being Akane.

While also demonstrating how much she leans on and depends on Dr. Tofu as a stabilizing figure in her life. She feels safe enough with him to finally let down her walls and cry out the grief over her lost hair, in a way she doesn't have at school or at home. Ironically mourning the death of her pursuit of him to him.

My dude, you desperately need to get a hobby. Supervillains are more considerate. Giving some real Vegeta energy here, but specifically the TeamFourStar kind.

And also the Tendo home desperately needs to get some door locks because he just strolled right on in here to do this.

And they both get punished for this.

Story of Ranma's life.

Takahashi's comedy remains incredible. Kasumi objects to Akane going out there not because she doesn't think Akane can take the mystery robber but because she wants Akane to hit him with something heavier.

I want that too. So Kasumi and I are on the same page.

She does, too. Nails Ryoga right in the back of the neck with a long-range shotput throw of that fucking barbell. Akane wins Ranma v. Ryoga, Round 2.

The moral of the story is to... not... do... anything that Ryoga did here.

...or, really, anything that Ryoga ever does. Don't be like Ryoga. That's sound life advice. (Not that the rest of the cast is any better.)

Immediately followed by Kasumi with another punchline. Man, I did not remember how funny she is.

Akane's rematch with Ryoga goes super well too. She is on fire.

Sincerely want to know what could possibly have possessed him to think jumping Akane while in piglet form was a good idea.

So begins the saga of P-chan.

AND ALL FOR BREAD AND BREAD-RELATED PRODUCTS

My dude.

The curry bun was not worth it.

Like.

Like. The part where Ranma knocked Ryoga into the piggy spring without noticing and then Genma tried to fucking eat him? Yeah. I can see being homicidally mad about that.

But he didn't even know that was them until literally this scene. Everything up to this point has been Ryoga blaming Ranma because he, Ryoga, stalked Ranma to China to avenge his curry bun.

Speaking of Genma.

I love how he just walks in on his son in girly form having Naked Bath Time with some random boy, and his response is to just... apologize and peace out. Whatever this is, it's none of his business.

Actually, not just any random boy. Specifically the random boy that got Ranma in trouble earlier tonight when he snuck into their bedroom for a late-night call.

Genma definitely thinks these two are up to shenanigans.

Literally the only member of her family that actually objects to Ranma sneaking into Akane's room late at night to do shenanigans to her (read: trying to fucking extract Ryoga from an unsuspecting Akane's bed) is Kasumi. Who merely scolds Ranma for moving too fast.

Is it any wonder she doesn't feel safe being emotionally vulnerable at home?

(Seriously, though, there is so much drama that could be avoided if Ranma would just tell Akane that P-chan is Ryoga. She has a right to know that, and not telling her makes Ranma complicit in Ryoga's shittiness.)

[peapodsinspace]

Hey y’all I’m here talking about misusing alt texts again

I made a post like this a while ago, but I can’t find it to reblog so I’m just making a new one

Basically, I’m just wanting to talk about how some people (and I’m not talking about anyone in particular here) use the alt text feature for things that don’t include image descriptions.

For anyone who doesn’t know, an alt text is an accessibility tool used to give a description of an image. It benefits lots of people, including visually impaired people.

They’re also handy, because they can make hard to parse images more clear, or describe audio in videos for people who can’t hear it, among other things.

That includes folks who just don’t have their sound on, too! Also if your internet is patchy and and an image won’t load you can read an alt text to get an idea of what the image is about!

Basically, they’re very handy!

Now, alt texts & image descriptions are an optional thing you can add to posts, and I’m not trying to pressure people into making them! I just want to talk mainly about misusing the feature!

(Bold talk for a girl who just spend several paragraphs talking about other stuff)

Anyway, onto my main point:

What the alt text feature is not used for is adding extra commentary.

I see people just putting random things in alt texts somewhat often, and it always annoys me a bit.

By adding an alt text that isn’t a description, you’re making it more unclear to people who need them.

And you’re making your commentary less easy to find by putting it in the alt text, but that doesn’t really matter.

And no hate to anyone who does this! I’m just trying to explain that it’s maybe not the best thing to do.

If anyone is interested in making image descriptions for their posts, it isn’t too hard! You don’t have to do anything crazy. A simple description is always better than none at all.

You can be as detailed as you like, but keep in mind that this isn’t creative writing practice, so try not to get too convoluted. (With the exception of descriptions of art, because it can be much more subjective)

You’ll just want to describe the main points of the image. This may include:

-the subject(s) of the image

-text or lettering

-details relevant to the post*

-and lots of other things, depending on the context

* an example of this would be something that adds to the punchline of a joke. Like, if an image is a cat with a funny shocked expression, then you’d want to make sure to mention the cat’s expression, since that’s the important part of the image.

Instead of “a tabby cat sitting down” you’d want to say “a tabby cat with a surprised expression”, if that makes sense

Anyway, that’s all i had to say! Feel free to send me asks about this if you have questions. I will answer them to the best of my abilities :]

Also, I don’t claim to be an expert on writing image descriptions, I just make them for my posts almost always

Also also, thanks for reading my long post!