#and there’s just SO much about the funeral it makes me so sad for an abundance of reasons

[satsuha]

actually the reason i pulled out my aa6 artbook is because i was thinking about this line from the dev interview again

(translation source)

i mean first of all. yamazaki you're going to kill me you can't just say that....

but also i thought it was a little weird that they referred to him as "prosecutor of resignation" here? i didn't think much of it the first time i saw it but i was pretty sure his actual title (トムライの検事 tomurai no kenji) could only be translated to funeral/burial/etc. so i finally decided to check the original and

yamazaki Does actually call him something different! he says あきらめの検事 (akirame no kenji, prosecutor of resignation/acceptance) which also calls back to his tagline あきらめなさい (akiramenasai, lit. give up/abandon [hope]/resign yourself) or "let it go, and move on" in the localization

the next part is also more accurately "he's actually the one who's the most given up" oeguhhg.... i'm goign to die. i was actually pretty surprised when i first found out about his original tagline because "let it go and move on" sounds nice/helpful at least in a shallow way or out of context? but saying "give up" straight up feels like... a LOT more aggressive/negative to me. but if the idea of it was that it was an alternate/unused title for nahyuta that makes me so.... o<-<

also this next thing is just a silly thing i Had to check but i thought the word used for "rise up" may have actually been 蘇る (yomigaeru, to resurrect) from the japanese title of "rise from the ashes" but no he says 復活させる (fukkatsu saseru, to revive/be reborn) instead. sad!

[yourfriendlyfanperson]

A Chemical Reaction Called Love

Chapter 3: A Boring Life

~Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!reader

~Summary: Being the daughter of Hawkins Middle School Science teacher, Scott Clarke, has its perks. Constantly having to explain things to 'King' Steve Harrington wasn't necessarily one of them but it was something you had gotten used to. He might not be the brightest guy but at least he tried, and you appreciated that. You had big plans for the future, but they might be forced to change thanks to a phone call...

~Warnings: Sensitive topics might be brought up so reader discretion is advised.

~Word Count: 3.4k

~Authors Note: Hey everyone! Here's chapter three! Thanks so much for the love on the previous chapters! I'm still getting used to how posting fanfics on tumblr works so I appreciate all the likes and reposts! If you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter let me know! Once again you can find me on Ao3 as Lilpipsqueak and W-tpadd as friendlyfanperson!

Does anyone know how I can make the previous chapter numbers appear and be linked to this? I've been trying to figure it out lol

~Narrator's POV~

Y/n walks inside the middle school going to her dad's room, the place is very quiet, which is the opposite of what the school is usually like, there is a very uncomfortable atmosphere around but it's to be expected, after all, one of the students was announced dead, it's not something that ever happens or people think will happen.

"Hi dad," She says standing at the door.

"Hey honey, thanks for coming to help the kids by talking about losing someone," He tells her walking out of the room.

"No worries, how are the boys doing?" She asks him, walking next to him.

"I'm not sure, I haven't seen them today, they must be having a rough time though, I can't even imagine"

Y/n doesn't even want to imagine how they must be feeling, they're only twelve years old and have already lost their best friend to some terrible accident, no kid should go through what they're going through, but the circumstances can't be changed, unfortunately, and all they can do is be there for the boys so things are easier for them, comfort them in any way possible, and make sure that Will's memory lives on.

"Attention students, there will be an assembly to honour Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period"

The principal announced from the speakers, when it all goes quiet again they can hear voices coming from somewhere near and just as they turn to the right they see the three boys with a girl standing in the corridors.

"Boys?" Scott says as they turn to look at him.

"Hey," Lucas says, trying not to seem suspicious.

"The assembly is about to start" Y/n adds.

"We know," Mike tells her, "We're just, you know"

"Upset," Lucas explains with a smile before looking down sad.

"Yeah, yeah, definitely upset" Dustin repeats.

"We need some alone time," Mike says.

"To cry" Dustin adds.

Y/n looks at them confused, noticing they are acting stranger than usual.

"Yeah, listen, I get it, I do" Mr Clarke begins telling them, "I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh? And then" he gets his keys out from his pocket and tosses them to Mike, "The Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day, what do you say?" he asks them.

The boys look at him with a smile nodding, happy with the idea.

"I haven't seen you around here before, is she new? What's your name?" Y/n asks the blonde girl standing next to Mike.

"Elev-" The girl begins to say before she's interrupted by Mike, Lucas and Dustin.

"Eleanor, she's my-"

"Cousin!"

"Second cousin"

"She's here for Will's funeral" Mike adds.

Y/n stands there trying to figure out whether the three boys expected her to really believe the obvious lie they just told her, and by the look of it they were sure she was going to believe it.

"Ah, well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor, I wish you were here under better circumstances," Her dad tells the girl.

"Thank you" She softly says.

"Uh, where are you from exactly?" Y/n asks her.

The eyes of the three boys widen as they turn to look at Elenor who shakes her head.

"Bad place-"

"Sweden!" Dustin shouts. "I have a lot of Swedish family" Mike adds. "She hates it there" Dustin mentions. "Cold" Lucas says. "Subzero"

Everything feels very awkward after that, Y/n and Scott look at each other, confusion visible on their face, but they decide to just move past the conversation.

"Shall we?" Her dad says looking at the kids.

"Yep," Lucas says as they all walk towards the sports hall.

Dustin opens the door to the room interrupting the principal and drawing everyone's attention to the five of them.

"Great" Y/n mumbles.

Dustin turns around trying to leave but is pushed back inside by Lucas.

Lucas, Mike, Dustin and Eleanor take a seat on the benches while Y/n and Scott sit on the chairs behind the principal.

"We have Y/n Clarke from Hawkins High to talk to you guys a bit about how it feels to lose someone, Y/n," The principal says turning to look back at her.

She stands up taking a deep breath, public speaking it's not fun, especially having to talk to a bunch of clearly bored and annoying pre-teenagers. Y/n smiles at the principal walking next to him and moving to look at the kids, most of them looked like they couldn't wait for this to be over, some were mildly interested or at least respected the situation, a very small group was actually upset, and then in the crowd, she saw two boys laughing, she noticed that Mike and Lucas saw them too, and man does she hate bullies.

"Can you two at the back be quiet?" She shouts glaring at the two boys, they look back at her embarrassed and annoyed but stop talking, "Thank you"

Now I could share with you the sad story that Y/n is telling the kids, but in reality, the anecdote isn't actually that sad, she doesn't even remember her mother at all, she died when Y/n was only two-years-old in a car accident, but stretching the truth for the kids to stop being little assholes wouldn't hurt at the end of the day. So she put on her best sad face and took ten minutes of the kid's day to share the story.

"So let's keep Will's memory alive, and show some respect," She says finishing her speech. The bell goes off and the kids start leaving the room, Y/n walks over to her dad, "You okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay honey" In comparison to her Scott obviously remembers her mother a lot, and he gets very sentimental whenever someone talks about her, it's a sensitive topic.

"Do you want me to go talk to the kids?" She asks him.

"No don't worry, I'll talk to them you should go back to class," He tells her with a smile, she smiles back at him and waves goodbye as she walks out of the gym.

Y/n walks back to the High School and gets on with her usual day. Nothing interesting really happens after, she just attends her lessons, has lunch with Robin, and then meets once again with her dad so they can go home. Her life really is pretty boring when she thinks about it, always the same cycle over and over, it would be nice to do something new for a change.

~~~~~~~~

The next day school was cancelled since it was Will's funeral.

Y/n woke up at 8:00 am to get ready, the funeral was scheduled to start at 11:00 am and would probably last about two hours, after that most people would attend the wake which would last about an hour or so, which meant Y/n would have enough time to go back home, get changed and then walk to her shift which starts at three thirty.

She changed into the outfit she had planned for the funeral, lucky for her she already had black clothes which meant she didn't need to buy new ones for this day, it wouldn't have been fun to buy clothes for a funeral.

All she could think about while getting ready was the fact she was attending Will's funeral, it really was happening, he was actually dead, it wasn't just a bad nightmare she had anymore, it was a reality. No one ever wants to attend the funeral of someone younger than them, they're supposed to live longer than you after all, so when that doesn't happen it's just so  heartbreaking.

"Are you ready to go honey?" Scott asks her as he knocks on her door.

"Yeah, let's go," she says walking out of the room and closing the door behind her.

The drive to the funeral was completely quiet, neither Y/n nor her dad had the strength or energy to try and initiate a conversation, there wasn't much to talk about anyway, so really it was for the best.

When they arrived he parked his car at the car park next to the church, they both got out and walked towards Joyce and Jonathan who were standing in front of the soon-to-be grave. Y/n went up to Jonathan and gave him a big hug, she hadn't seen him since Will went missing, and she wanted to ask him how he was feeling but she guessed that was the last thing he needed to be asked today, so instead she just gave him a soft smile as she moved away from the hug and turned to look at Joyce.

She doesn't say anything, she looks so confused to be there like it isn't right.

Y/n wanted to say so much to Joyce, she wanted to tell her how sorry she was for what had happened, how she couldn't believe it was Will out of all the people it could've been, how he was such a fantastic kid he didn't deserve this, but she couldn't tell her that, not at this time anyway, "We'll be here if you need anything" was all she said, with a soft smile.

She turns to look at the kids, she expected them to be already crying their eyes out or something along those lines, but instead, they seemed normal, they didn't look upset or sad, and they didn't even look like they were hiding their feelings, which Y/n would've definitely found weird if it wasn't for the fact that the moment she saw the boys she just wanted to breakdown into tears and hug them.

"How are you guys doing?" She asked them walking over to the boys.

"We're okay," Dustin tells her looking over at Lucas and Mike.

"You guys know it's okay to cry, right?" She tells them.

"Yeah, we know," Dustin says looking at Lucas and Mike, the three of them nodding.

"Good, I'm here if you need to talk" She adds and they smile at her.

More and more people start arriving, but instead of people talking more everything goes completely quiet, and eventually, the funeral begins.

All Y/n is able to do is look down during the entire speech, she barely has the strength to look at Will's casket, it's so small, and caskets shouldn't be that small. In the end, everyone throws some flowers inside the hole before they close it.

Everyone then heads to the wake, there are tables and food organised in the place, and most people are talking, probably about something not even remotely related to Will, Lonnie is speaking to Mr and Mrs Wheeler, meanwhile, Joyce is sitting by herself, on the other side of the room Y/n and Scott are getting some food from the lunch table, when Mike, Lucas and Dustin walk up to them.

"Mr Clarke," Mike says, Scott and Y/n turn around to look at the boys.

"Oh, hey there, how are you boys holding up?" He asks them.

"We're...in...mourning" Lucas answers.

"Man, these aren't real Nilla Wafers" Dustin mumbles, Mike and Lucas turn to look at him as if he just said something irrelevant, which he did but kids usually do that.

"We were wondering if you had time to talk?" "We have some questions" "A lot of questions," Mike and Lucas say.

"What do you want to know?"

Mr Clarke, Y/n and the three boys take a seat on one of the tables and begin to ask the questions, they ask about alternate dimensions but not an alternate dimension where Will's death never happened but more about an evil alternate dimension, like the Vale of Shadows, and then they ask how one would travel there, theoretically of course. Scott explains things to the boys in the simplest way possible which is by comparing things to a flea and an acrobat, explaining how there are places an acrobat, which in this case is them, can only explore so much, meanwhile, a flea will be able to reach places they can't. The boys ask if there's a way the acrobat could reach the upside down, and he explains that it only would be possible by creating an insane amount of energy one bigger than humans can currently make which could open up a gate to reach the upside down.

"Science is neat, but not very forgiving" Scott adds as he finishes explaining things to the boys.

"You guys always have the weirdest questions you know," Y/n says chuckling as she looks at the three boys, she had this feeling that they were hiding something, that there was something going on with them, but she couldn't figure out what it was.

"We're just... very curious," Dustin tells her looking at the other two who nod at this comment.

"Well make sure that curiosity doesn't kill you," She says with a smile standing up, "I should probably start saying goodbye to everyone dad, I need to leave soon so I can get ready for work"

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?" He asks her.

"It's okay, I know you want to stay here longer talking with the boys and everyone else, and I have my skates anyway so it won't take me long to get home" She explains to him.

He sighs smiling at her knowing that he does, in fact, want to stay longer and that either way he won't be able to change her mind, "Be careful" he says.

"I will, love you dad, bye kids, you can call me at home if you need anything okay?"

"Okay"

~~~~~~~

After working for five hours Y/n was finally able to say goodbye to her last customer, she turned on the radio and listened to 'Old Time Rock & Roll' while she cleaned the cafe, dancing along to the song and singing the lyrics as she organised everything and made sure it was nice and clean. When she finally finished she turned off the light and walked out of the cafe closing it and locking it, she put on her skates and started skating over to her house.

She was glad she didn't take today off work because it actually helped her get her mind off everything that had happened lately, the cafe has always been a comfort place of hers so it made her feel better.

Normally she didn't mind going home after work alone, Hawkins had always been a very safe place, and she always carried some bleach in a bottle in her bag just in case, but after Barb's disappearance, the thought of walking alone at night was not so fun. So she decided to skate as fast as she could so she could get home soon, unfortunately, Y/n had her sleeves rolled up and forgot the fact it was a cold night in November and the ground would be frozen, so when she tripped on an uneven step she didn't just stop herself like she usually did but instead fell forwards on the rocky ground scraping her arms.

"Fuck" she says pushing herself up and carefully standing again, she looks down at her arms to see that they're bleeding, great, "Why is blood so dramatic?" she asks herself rolling her sleeves down, not even trying to stop the blood knowing it will be a waste of time anyway.

She continues skating to her home, and slowly this feeling that she's being followed starts growing in her stomach, she turns around to look behind her but sees nothing, she shakes her head, telling herself that she's tired and anxious so it's just her mind making her paranoid, she continues skating but the feeling doesn't go, if anything it just gets worst, she keeps looking around hoping it will make her feel better but instead she sees a weird shadow inside the woods, a tall, dark figure with a strange head; she picks up her pace trying to go as fast as she can while being careful so that she won't fall again, she looks back at the woods to see the figure closer than it was before, she doesn't care if she falls again she starts skating as fast as she possibly can, her eyes not moving away from the tall shadow that was getting closer, scared that she might end up like Barbara, missing and possibly dead.

Meanwhile, Steve Harrington was driving his car down the road she was about to walk across, he had just dropped Tommy and Carol at their house after going to check on Nancy, and it hadn't gone well, he saw her with Jonathan and was convinced that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

Y/n was freaking out so much she didn't realise when the car stopped right in front of her until she is stopped by the car crashing against the side door, she looks inside the car to see none other than Steve he looks at her confused noticing she had in fact just hit her head against his car, he rolled down his window as she looks back seeing the tall, shadow creature leaving the woods and making its way towards her.

"Hey Einstein, are you okay?" Steve asks checking on her.

Y/n doesn't even take a second to think, her survival instincts and panic took over her brain, and all she does is open the passenger's door getting inside the car.

"Go!" she shouts at him, his eyebrows knit together as he looks at her puzzled.

"What?"

"Steve just go! Go! Go!" she shouts at him.

Steve lets go of the brake pedal and push's down at the accelerator as he turns to the left and drives away as fast as possible, Y/n turns back as she watches the dark creature fade away into the dark disappearing from her view. Neither of them says anything during the drive, Y/n didn't even know where Steve was taking her until he parks in front of a house.

"What the hell just happened?" he asks turning to look at her confused and worried.

"Someone or something was following me, I was trying to get away from it and then I bumped into you and I didn't know what else to do, I got scared I was going to end up going missing or kidnapped or something like that, I'm sorry I didn't mean to get into your car like that" she explains apologising once she takes in the incredibly bizarre situation.

"It's okay, I mean we wouldn't want you to go missing" she nods at him, "Is your arm okay?" he asks, looking down at her arm worried, Y/n turns to look at him confused.

"What?"

"Your jacket has blood around your arm" he points out.

"Oh, it's nothing I just scraped my arms when I fell," she tells him rolling her sleeves up.

"That doesn't look like nothing" he adds.

"It's fine I'll just disinfect it when I get home"

"You could just disinfect it here, we have saline solution," he says turning off the car and looking at her.

"Won't your parents mind?" she asks him, not wanting to bother anyone.

"They're probably already asleep, they won't even notice I just got home, we can quickly disinfect your arms and then I can drive you home" he suggests to her.

"Oh no it's okay I don't want to keep you up for longer"

"It's fine really, I was probably going to stay awake for a while anyway," he says smiling at her as he opens the door and gets out of the car, walking towards the passenger's door.

"Thanks," Y/n says getting out of the car and closing the door, "Who knows what would've happened if I hadn't bumped into you"

"Well, I do owe you big time, this is one of the thirty I guess" he chuckles locking his car and walking to the front door.

"You still got a long way to go," she smiles at him.

"Yeah well let's hope the next one is me passing my chemistry test without your help," he tells her with a smile opening the door.

Y/n laughs at him as she walks inside, "Then you've got a lot of studying to do"

Thank you for reading! Any likes and reblogs are very appreciated!

[typicalopposite]

and for my last mpreg update here is chapter one of the Omega Tommy fic!

rejected

chapter one: sick over you

(also posted on ao3)

The rain is pouring down, and with the tears flooding from his eyes Tommy can barely see the road ahead of him as he speeds away from Evan’s apartment building. Perhaps coming by unannounced had been stupid. Even still, he hadn’t expected… that to be the reaction he received. Not that he doesn’t think it’s the reaction he deserves, but to hear Evan’s voice— raised in anger and filled with disgust— tell him to get out of his life; it hurt in a way nothing has ever hurt him before. 

He feels numb.

Numb like he felt at his mother’s funeral. Numb like he felt every time his father lifted a hand to him. Numb like he felt when some random alpha made an off handed comment in his direction. Numb like he felt when came home and caught Liam— his ex-mate… the one he’d thought was his true mate— in bed with another. Numb like he felt when their bond had broken; Liam had gotten them pregnant, that creates a stronger bond than any mere mating bite ever could… Another had given Liam what Tommy had longed to— what Tommy has always longed for… but was told he could never have. 

The tears come harder; the rain picks up. 

He had been told he would never carry a child of his own. It was not meant to be. Liam had held him as he cried, at least until he got Tommy home… Then his anger reared its head. Useless! That's what he had called Tommy. A disgrace. 

Broken… 

Broken… 

Broken… 

“Guess I’m not so broken after all,” Tommy laughs out loud. The words are bitter… their meaning heavy. Too heavy. Tommy fears it might be crushed by their weight. 

Two days ago he couldn’t shake the feeling any longer. 40 years and he has never missed a heat. 40 years and he has never felt so sluggish and off. He knew well before the doctor confirmed it. “Congratulations, Mr. Kinard… you’re pregnant.”

He sat with those words for two whole days; mulling over what he should do. 

He knew what he had to do. He was just unsure of how to do it. He had left, after all. He told Evan they were through and ran away before Evan could get too close… oh how Tommy had wanted to let Evan get close anyway. He hadn’t felt a pull towards anyone since he lost his bond with Liam… Then he met Evan. 

The pull he felt towards Evan was so much stronger than anything he’d ever felt towards Liam. It was so powerful, so intense, so real… Too real… and he had to break it before Evan wanted something more… something he couldn’t give him. 

Except he could… it seems. 

So he had to swallow his pride— and his fear— and he had to tell him. 

He decided he would go beg Evan’s forgiveness, then tell him the news, and hope it would be enough. He hoped Evan could forgive him, and would love him despite his actions. He hoped Evan could love him like he knew Evan would love their child. 

But Evan didn’t give him a chance to speak…

“No,” he’d said, eyes red rimmed and misty like he’d been crying some time before Tommy showed up at his door. “No. I get to talk now.” Tommy gave a sharp nod and let Evan talk. Boy, did Evan talk. “You don’t get to disappear from my life, then just show back up and cry your way back into it Tommy.” 

“I- I wasn’t…” Tommy tried, but Evan shot him an angry glare and his mouth snapped shut. 

“I wanted a future with you,” Evan said. “I saw a future with you… and you left. You— You didn’t even give me a good reason… you just left. You didn’t care about how that would make me feel, all you cared about was how you didn’t want me to make you feel, in some unforeseen future you decided— on your own— that we were heading towards. Do you know how long I spiraled because of that?” 

Tommy stared at him, knowing he must look like a deer in headlights— he honestly hadn’t expected to learn Evan had spiraled from the break up at all. Been sad, sure, moped around for a short while, maybe… but to know he spiraled… over Tommy? He cared that much for Tommy? “Evan, if you would just let me explain—”

“I waited, Tommy…” Evan interjects. “For months, I waited. You bubbled me and I—” he scoffs, wiping roughly at one eye as a tear slips free. “I held on to hope you would finally just send the damn message. Or call. Or— I don’t know— do something. But you didn’t.”

Tommy hung his head. “I know…” he said softly. “I— I’m sorry. But… I’m— I’m here now…”

“Now?” Evan huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “Now… is too late.”

Tommy heard the words, but they did register until Evan asked him to leave. “L- Leave?” Tommy felt his bottom lip trembling, his heart began to race. 

“Yes, Tommy. Leave. Please.” 

“B- But I— I have to tell you…”

“Dammit Tommy, I don’t care, okay?” Tommy flinches at the rise in Evan’s voice. “You had your chance to come around. You didn’t. I said it’s too late, I meant it. So go... Leave.” 

Tommy blinked. He was… shocked? No, not really… Hurt? Well he did it to himself, didn’t he. 

Rain pelts against the windshield; his wipers, even on full blast, can’t keep up. His tears haven’t stopped flowing since he— partially lost in a daze— backed out of Evan’s loft, turned and bolted towards the elevator. The sound of the door slamming caused him to jolt as he frantically pressed the button. He hits a pocket of water and the truck hydroplanes. It doesn’t scare him in and of itself, he knows how to control his vehicle, but it’s enough to make him pull over and either calm down or wait out the storm. 

With his truck safely stopped, he allows himself to cry. The cries quickly turn to sobs, and the sobs get stronger and louder until he is screaming at the top of his lungs. He is slinging his fists like a mad man, bringing them down against the steering wheel until he knows there will be bruises left behind— until he thinks he might have broken one of his pinkies… It throbs and has a large lump poking out the side. 

Only then does he stop, and just sit there, his hands sore and laid gently in his lap. He sobs until he has nothing left in him to cry out. 

Evan doesn’t want him. 

Evan doesn’t want him.

Evan doesn’t want him… anymore. 

Evan wanted a future with him and Tommy ruined it. He ruined it… ruined it… ruined it. Now he will be alone. Evan will love their child… of course he will. He is not a cruel person, regardless of how bad his words hurt… they were well deserved. But Tommy knows he won’t take his anger out on their child. 

But he won’t love Tommy.

Tommy will be alone… like it was always meant to be. 

He inhales and feels it— the moment something inside him breaks; his heart, perhaps. It lies broken inside him oozing out a sickening feeling throughout his entire body. He feels alone. He feels unloved. 

He feels… rejected.

*

The rain is pouring down and Tommy hates flying when he’s not the one at the controls. Every turbulence sends a wave of nausea through him— it doesn’t help that he is constantly nauseous anyway. He closes the shade over the window, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to focus on breathing. 

In… out… in… out… in—

“Sir,” a voice says; a hand touches his shoulder. The stewardess looks distressed as she leans over the empty seat to him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…” Tommy lies, and the look she gives him makes it apparent she knows that he is. He is clammy and sweaty. He is sure his face is flushed, his pupils dilated… He can only imagine how distressed his scent is. “I’ll be okay.” Eventually? Someday? Maybe? Probably not… the woman sighs and eventually leaves. 

Have you recently separated from your mate? 

The question echoes in his memory… takes him back to days of constant sickness; unable to hold anything down and coupled with extreme fatigue— he could barely even keep his eyes open… Lucy told him if he didn’t go to the doctor she was going to drag him in by his ears. 

“My- My mate?” Tommy had responded to the question, not completely, but just confused enough that the doctor would have automatically assumed that just because he was pregnant that he was also mated. “I don’t have one.” 

His doctor— the same old crotchety man he’s seen since his adolescence— peered up at him over his glasses, then down at his midsection. He was only barely showing, but Tommy’s hand still instinctively found its way to the spot their baby was nestled. “You seem pretty mated to me,” he responded, waiting for a beat then continuing with, “Is the other parent not involved with the pregnancy?” 

Tommy stared at him long enough he didn’t need to answer. 

“Mr. Kinard, this is not extreme morning sickness you’re experiencing. It’s rejection sickness.” 

“R- Rejection… sickness— but I’m not—”

“Mated. Yes. I understand you believe that,” the doctor interjected, sounding slightly annoyed. “However, your body is saying— screaming, really— quite the opposite.” 

The plane shakes and drops in the sky and Tommy tries to ignore it by thinking of the pamphlet tucked away in his luggage. 

A nurse had handed it to him before he left the office. “Doctor Pate circled some groups you can reach out to for help.” She had said, pushing the folded paper into Tommy’s hand. “Although your best option is to just return to your mate.” She made it seem so simple. She had no idea how much it was anything but simple. He thanked her anyway and walked out. 

Two weeks later and he wasn’t getting any better. He could barely even get out of bed. The pamphlet sat on his bedside table staring at him— mocking him. 

“Maybe you should just… call him,” Lucy had suggested. Tommy groaned and shook his head, burrowing into his pillow. He heard stories of omegas getting the urge to make nests during their pregnancies. A safe space for them to cocoon inside as their bodies changed and grew the new precious life. He hadn’t had the urge to do much of anything other than sleep… and wallow. “Tommy you’re scaring me,” she said, shoving him gently so he would look up at her. “If this is rejection—”

“It’s not.” It can’t be… he thought; he hoped. 

Lucy glared at him, but the anger faded quickly. She seemed to be as exhausted as Tommy felt. “But if it is… Tommy, people die from this! It’s serious.” 

“Don’t you think I know that, Luce!” Tommy managed to snap back. “What am I supposed to do about it! He doesn’t want me!” 

Unwanted.

Unloved.

Rejected.

Maybe if he kept denying it… his body would get the memo and it would just… go away, even if he knew deep down that it wouldn't work, and the doctor was right. Evan was his mate… Bound to him by the tiny life now struggling to survive inside his broken diseased body. Evan was his mate, but he would never truly be Tommy’s; he didn’t want to be. 

The thought curdled inside him and the sour feeling spread throughout. 

The plane shakes and Lucy plops back down in her seat. “Thank god we’re almost there,” she sighs. “Fucking hate flying as a passenger.” Tommy does his best to react; he gives the weakest laugh. She doesn’t point it out, just rests her hand on his where he’s gripping the arm rest and they ride out the turbulence together. 

Lucy had been the one to suggest the trip. 

After another doctor visit, where Tommy had only shown signs of getting worse: loss in appetite, in weight, he was even losing hair. The doctor urged Tommy to reach out to his mate and Tommy finally explained the situation in its entirety. This led to the doctor giving them a major hurdle in the very definite diagnosis of mate rejection… That it no longer mattered if he called and informed Evan about the baby. His condition was so severe, if Evan truly meant what he said when sent Tommy away— if he had truly moved on and no longer wanted to be with Tommy, accepting the child would do nothing for the sickness. 

“Well we have to do something,” Lucy had said frantically. The doctor had left them with a very bleak outlook. One Tommy accepted all too easily, while Lucy refused to accept at all. She still believed going to Evan would work— she believed he was upset, and hadn’t meant what he said at all. Tommy did not believe that at all, and made her promise she wouldn’t tell him; she agreed on one condition. 

“Yea’llo,” Sal had said through the phone, and despite the heavy pout Tommy wore from being forced to call his best friend for assistance with his… situation, he smiled. He let Lucy explain, but he made her lie about who the alpha father was. (Lucy was easy to convince to keep a level head about the baby, and the Evan of it all… Sal would not be… if he could be kept level headed about it in the first place— which, probably not.)

They told Sal it was a one night stand… Tommy had no idea who the alpha was, or how to get up with him… Sal gave his spiel; he called Tommy a dumbass, then retracted it with kind words and promised to do whatever he can to help. There was never a question of whether Tommy could go to Sal’s or not, so across the US they went. 

This plan might not work. Lucy knows that… Sal knows that… Tommy knows that. In the pamphlets, it says that while it’s best to be reunited with their alpha in the case of an omega with rejection sickness, being around another alpha has been proven to help tremendously, especially one with a close bond to the omega. Lucy is a beta… she has always been so happy about the freedom that comes with it… until now. 

Sal, however, is an alpha, and the two have been best friends for as long as Tommy can remember; even when Sal and his family moved out to Virginia so he could finally get his chance at a captain’s position, they remained extremely close: visits on holidays, birthdays, or just because… Sal’s family adores Tommy. Plus being around Gina (another Omega) and the kids will likely help with the rejection sickness as well. 

Tommy feels woozy as Lucy helps him through the boarding bridge, but that can be attributed mostly to the very rough— very long— flight. He collapses down into the first seat he sees, and lets his head fall into his hands. “I’ll call Sal,” Lucy says, but before she can, what sounds like a stampede is running towards them. 

“Uncle Tommy! Uncle Tommy!!” The familiar little voices pull a smile to his face despite how awful he’s feeling. He forces his head up to see SJ and Gino coming at him like a couple missiles. Seeing two of his favorite little people makes it easy enough to smile past how rotten he feels and his arms immediately open to them; he ‘oofs’ when they ultimately collide with him. 

“Easy you two!” Sal scolds them when he finally catches up. 

“Sorry,” they both say, dipping their heads. “Uncle Tommy, Mama says you have a baby in your belly,” Gino continues, eyes wide and curious. “Is that true?” Tommy laughs weakly, and nods. “How did it get in there!?” 

“His alpha put it there!” SJ answers while Tommy panickedly looks to Sal for help. 

“Uncle Tommy has an alpha?!” 

“Is the baby a boy or girl,” SJ asks, pivoting the direction of questioning. 

“When will it be here!?” 

“What are you going to name it!?”

“Alright, alright…” Sal groans, grabbing handfuls of the backs of both boys shirts and lifting them away from Tommy. They laugh and hold their arms out like they are flying as Sal swings them around and sets them down next to Lucy. 

“Lucy!” They both excite run into her arms, nearly taking her down to the floor.  

He tries to ignore the worried look Sal is giving him when he struggles to lift his head up enough to meet his best friend's eyes. “Where are the girls,” he asks, noticing the absence of Gina and their youngest, Tori. 

“How do you think we would have gotten you back to the house if everyone came, stuck you in the back of the truck?” His sarcasm is even falling flat as he crosses his arms and furrows his brows down at Tommy. 

“Thought Gina finally talked you into a minivan,” Tommy quips back. 

“I’ll be damned if you ever see me in it…” 

“Spoken like a true macho-macho man,” Lucy laughs, still wrestling with the boys. 

They all laugh at that, until a wave of pain and nausea crashes over Tommy and he has to lean himself forward and close his eyes in an attempt to settle his stomach. He groans as softly as he can but even SJ and Gino go quiet after hearing it. “Are you okay Uncle Tommy…” SJ asks, pulling free from Lucy’s hold and walking back over to where Tommy is begging his body to calm the hell down. 

“He will be,” Sal says, resting a hand on SJ’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get going,” he adds, extending his other hand out to Tommy.

He helps Tommy to his feet and his knees start to buckle the moment his full weight is put on them. “Whoa,” Lucy yelps, and hurries to his other side. “Uhm… maybe— maybe you should try… I don’t know— scenting… or something. See if it’s going to work or— or help.” Sal shrugs and looks to Tommy for him to make the decision. 

Tommy hesitates, letting himself take in Sal’s scent at a distance first. He hates how much it is already working— how fast it is already working. He hates his stupid, weak, omega body for being so needy for it in the first place. 

“Alright, go on,” Sal says, his smug smirk finally returning as he opens his arms to Tommy; it surprisingly helps Tommy calm down about it all. “Get a good whiff so you’re not all mopey, and stinking up the truck, on the ride back to the house!” 

Tommy’s feet are moving before his brain even registers it, and he all but melts into the embrace; his nose quickly finds the scent gland and presses into it. It’s humiliating how his body forces him to draw in a deep breath. It’s also overwhelmingly relaxing, and the pins and needles he’s felt throughout his body all week almost instantly disappear. He feels a sob vibrating up and out of him before he can stop it, and he hears Lucy ushering the boys to go help her find Tommy’s luggage to give him a moment. 

“What were you thinking, T…” Sal whispers, tightening his arms around Tommy’s shoulders. 

“I wasn’t…” Tommy replies— and damn, isn’t that the truth…

Sal sighs, and pulls back to look at Tommy. His eyes are so full of worry, and maybe just a hint of anger… Thankfully it will only be towards Tommy for getting himself in this position, and not Evan for unknowingly putting him in it. “Let’s go home,” Sal says, and he has always referred to his home Tommy’s home… There have been plenty of times in their friendship Sal’s home was the only home Tommy had known. It soothes him a little more, and finally he has his bearings back enough to nod and follow Sal out of the airport. 

*

The rain is pouring down and the baby is expected any day now. 

In actuality, the baby isn’t due for a few more weeks… but as it stands, with Tommy’s sickness worsening by the day, his doctors don’t expect him to make it to his due date. He sits in his big comfy recliner, and stares out the window at the rain pelting against the ground, creating puddles in Sal and Gina’s front yard. Outside his room he can hear Sal stomping around pissily, gathering his bags and filling them with just enough for a trip to LA and back. 

He wants to stop him… to run out of his room begging and pleading with Sal to not do this— it won’t help, it’s not fair— but he can’t. He slowly moves his eyes down to his body; it’s frail and pale and too weak to do much of anything beyond sitting in his big comfy recliner, and staring wistfully out the window. 

It had been too good to be true that everything would turn out okay… too good to be true Evan could be left out of it until after the baby was born, like Tommy is sure he is going to want to be once he is told the truth. Of course good things and Tommy don’t mesh well, and he took a turn for the worse a month ago. 

Up until then Tommy was doing fine. The sickness had almost subsided completely, he was on a temporary transfer to Virginia Beach Fire Department. He could even go as far as to say him and the baby were thriving. 

Tommy started to let himself enjoy being pregnant. He loved feeling the baby kick against his hand as he told them stories, or sang them songs. He was growing more and more excited to become a papa, and when he had hard, sad days… he would be wrapped up by his family and allowed to soak in their love laced scents to get his mind back on track. 

He didn’t need an alpha— he didn’t need his alpha… He had enough. It would be enough. He would be enough… 

It almost was enough. 

It started to snowball down a very steep hill when April rolled around… 

Tommy walked into the kitchen, grabbing a strip of bacon from Sal’s plate— he snorted out a laugh as Sal grumpily swatted his hand away— Gina greeted him with a kiss to his cheek and allowed him to scoop Tori up from her arms. The routine calmness of the morning was interrupted when Sal mentioned it being a year since Tommy let Howie talk him into nearly losing his job to save Nash’s ass. 

A whole year… since he met Evan. 

Tommy stares out the window at the rain pouring down and combined with the tears filling his eyes he can barely see the Uber logo illuminated in the car windshield that comes to a stop outside the house. He hears his door creak open, and Sal’s scent fills the room as he steps inside. Tommy struggles to breathe it in and he misses the days it actually helped with the aches and pains coursing through his body, and the constant state of nausea he feels. 

“Hey,” Sal says softly, pulling up a chair to Tommy’s side. He waits for Tommy to slowly turn his head and face him, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. “Don’t look at me like that, T…” Sal says, and he reaches up to adjust the oxygen tube in Tommy’s nose, careful of the feeding tube also taped down to his cheek. Tommy can feel his lips tugging down, and he’s really not trying to make Sal feel bad— it hurts to see how much looking at Tommy like this clearly hurts Sal. 

Sal blames himself, in a way… for Tommy getting worse. Unjustifiable as it might be, Tommy knows Sal does. He had come to his room that evening— after bringing up the reunion of the cruise ship disaster— and knocked gently. He apologized through the closed door for reopening that wound; he said he thought he’d gotten over the kid, he talked about him so rarely. But Sal hadn’t known the truth behind Tommy’s silence… and that’s on Tommy. 

“Come on man, can you please open the door?” Sal had said, and he sounded so broken up. Tommy forced himself up and out of his self wallowing, dragging his feet to the door to open it. 

He was able to fake it for just a few days. Then the sickness took hold and Tommy stopped eating. He stopped sleeping… He stopped talking. He began feeling himself disassociating from the pregnancy: the kick’s brought him anguish instead of joy, the thought of giving birth to his child was overpowered by the reminder it was also Evan’s child… and Evan no longer wanted him. 

Evan had rejected him. 

His alpha had rejected him.

His mate had rejected him. 

The sickness spread so quickly no one— even the doctors— knew how to combat it. 

“I don’t understand…” he had heard Sal say outside his room. Lucy had flown in when Gina had called to inform her things had taken a turn for the worse, and now they were out there going back and forth about his condition. Tommy laid in his bed, hooked up to all kinds of machines trying desperately to keep him alive, and listened, unable to intervene or contribute at all. “He was getting better… then suddenly he’s in his feelings about that damned Buckley kid and—” Tommy listened as Sal sighed, long and deep and frustrated. “Son of a bitch…” 

“Sal—” Gina said softly, quietly… but Tommy heard her anyway. 

“Does he know…” Sal asked; Lucy didn’t respond… “What the fuck T…” Sal groaned, and Tommy stopped trying to hear the rest of the conversation. He let his eyes fall closed and allowed exhaustion to pull him into a very restless sleep. 

The outlook was so bleak. Lucy had sat beside his bed and cried as she tried to get him to eat some jello. Sal grew angrier and angrier with the situation. The younger of the kids stopped being allowed in to see him; his appearance was so haggard and ghastly it had frightened Tori and Gino… SJ chose to stop coming in on his own; he couldn’t stand to see his Uncle Tommy waste away, he’d told his mother. 

Tommy hated himself for causing the people he cared about so much despair. 

He’s pretty sure he can even pinpoint the exact moment in it all that he pushed Sal to make the decision to go get Evan. 

The night nurse hadn’t arrived yet and Tommy’s bedding needed to be changed. He tried to plead with Gina to wait— to not call Sal in to help. I’m fine, he thought… but could not force the words to come out no matter how hard he tried. He could do no more than grunt and weep, then finally just give up and let it happen. Tommy turned his eyes away, and tried to pretend he didn’t hear them both gasp at seeing him fully exposed. 

“I’m going to get that little shit and bring him here,” he heard Sal tell Gina and Lucy; no hesitation in his voice, he was very clear actually. 

“What if he refuses to come back with you…” Lucy countered. 

“Oh that’s not going to be an issue,” Sal stated very matter of factly and Tommy felt a tear slide down his face. Neither woman seemed willing to argue further, and that was that. 

Now, Tommy stares at Sal tiredly. He really wishes he could convey how much he doesn’t want him to do this. It’s not fair to Evan, Tommy thinks. It’s not his fault, he didn’t know… He blinks and the tears fall; Sal quickly swipes them away. 

“Don’t worry, you big softie… I won’t hurt him… too bad,” That gets a genuine laugh from Tommy, albeit weak. “Believe it or not I care about your hard headed ass, and don’t plan on losing you; so what good is he gonna do me in helping keep you around, if he’s dead…” Tommy gives a slow weak nod, and Sal cups the back of his neck helping him hold his head steady. “We’re gonna get you through this, okay?” 

Another nod, and Sal pats Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy watches him stand and walk to the door, notes how he quickly wipes a hand over his face before turning back towards him. He smiles and waves and Tommy uses the very limited amount of energy he has to do the same. Then Sal’s gone, and Tommy’s alone with his thoughts. 

He looks back out the window and watches Sal walk off the porch, turning to pull Gina into his arms— into a deep, passionate kiss— one more time. Tommy wishes he had that connection with someone— not someone… Evan. God he misses him. 

He feels the baby shift, and move, and brings his hand up to rest atop the taut bump. He is so tired, and as he slowly slips into unconsciousness… he just hopes Sal is right. He hopes bringing Evan actually works. 

He hopes he has the strength to make it through if it doesn’t. 

[azelmaandeponine]

I saw a interpretation of Filbrick that is kind strange and I want your opinion:

"I consider him a man of extreme tough love and concerned with making money in order to provide for his family, and those are thoughts I subscribe to as canon interpretation as well.

I don’t view him as abusive like a majority of the fandom seems to from what I’ve perused on him.

At least he’s not intentionally.

His actions in some instances can be viewed as such especially from a modern light, but they’re never from a place of maliciousness or hate. They come from a place of love and worry, in a time where being emotionally vulnerable (having heart to hearts and being frank with feelings) for a man is not only looked down upon, but can be detrimental to overall success and survival. So he’s ’not easily impressed’ and closed off. Gets angry when something valued gets lost rather than being sad or hurt by it because it’s easier and safer. (there’s a reason why he never got rid of the ‘#1 Dad’ marking on his pendant that Stan had given him - that hit him where it counted and he cherished it).

Tough love was an extreme back then, and making your kid stand outside for two days holding a sign saying 'extra stan 2$' is certainly not the best way to go about motivating your son to do better in school Filbrick.

Has a very ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ mentality because he knows no one else in the world will give exception to his sons having a heart and being sensitive. He’s the only one who they can afford to make mistakes with and learn from before the world gets its claws in them. He’s very loyal and doesn’t take kindly to people trying to harm his family… even said family. (why he insisted on boxing lessons, is part of a holy mackerel brotherhood, and why he even reacted as he did when learning about Stan and the project - he honestly believed that Stan had betrayed the family and sabotaged his brother because Stan has always been known for lying even as a kid [aka the pendent incident], it was an assumption that Ford didn’t correct him on and probably could have changed the whole outcome of if he hadn’t been devastated with the same feelings of betrayal).

Throwing Stan out in canon while in anger, was awful, I won't forgive that, but it did happen a lot back then especially at 17-18 when kids were both 'considered' or officially adults, and could go off on their own. You can still see that kinda thought process even nowadays in older folks to prevent 'mooching' or 'being a bum'.

I personally believe he’s just a man of his time and of his circumstances. Can come across heartless but does have a huge one just hidden away. I like to think he didn’t go to Stan’s ‘funeral’ because he still felt betrayed, yes (how could his kid do that to his own brother and force them to live in poverty and slog through life like that out of jealousy?), but that he didn’t go because he just couldn’t handle it. He would’ve been too broken and vulnerable about it. Or that… maybe he was dead by that time.

There’s literally no way anyone can convince me that Filbrick didn’t sit alone staring at that ‘#1 Dad’ pendant in the dark of his room without tears on his face.

Unless you’re Alex Hirsch, then I beg you not to break my heart like that lol"

What do you think?

I'm sorry, they lost me at "I don't view him as abusive". It's literally canon he is.

As for the rest...does this person know abusers can be multifaceted? That there are usually calmer moments in the abuse? Cause I don't think they know that.

All in all, it seems like this person doesn't know much about abuse, and can't fathom that a parent could be horrifically abusive to their kids because he was shown being fond of a gift one of his kids gave him.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

people begging me to do something to make a certain someone happy aren’t taking into account that i hate this person and i will revel in the knowledge that i kept them from getting the most perfect version of what they wanted. in fact i hope they mourn the loss of this for the rest of their life and die unhappy about it

[harryshomebaby]

im really glad that tumblr is such a safe space for me

[fingertipsmp3]

Genuinely not sure if I cry easily or if I just have a habit of dwelling on my problems and past grief that I should really be well into the fifth stage of by now but am instead stuck on stage 3 or 4

[aria0fgold]

It's one of those days where my head only allows soft music cuz anything remotely loud or fast paced makes it hurt now so... Funeral of the Last Survivor playlist it is then.

[sorrelink]

it has only been a week

it has already been a week

[krysmcscience]

At long last: either an alternate explanation for or continuation of my prior comic regarding how Bill was ABSOLUTELY naked in Ford's karaoke night drawing. (Because errors in art do not exist. Artists do not make mistakes. So if you see any in this comic, No You Do Not.)

I am so normal about these old dorks.

I'm not really clear on exactly when Bill started throwing his desperation book at Ford just like a needy ex do, but I find it extremely funny to imagine it happening literally the day of or after the makeshift funeral. Bill just gets this weird sense of 'Ford is taking steps to move on' and CANNOT FUCKING ABIDE.

I hope you enjoy all the goofy things I added to each page of Bill's sad spieling. (Everything SHOULD be readable so long as you view the full size, but I have added basically this whole little fanfic in the image descriptions, LMAO, which lays out all the little written notes and such.) Also don't ask how Bill managed to sneak that vampire pen in there. I have no idea, and honestly? I don't wanna know.

Oh, and a little bonus comic:

Of course Bill would take it as flirting. Because between the two of them, Bill is the bigger masochist By Far. :)

Also I have continued applying The Good Place logic to any of Bill's attempts to swear. Case in point, one last bonus image, this time with a motivational line from my slapdash Theraprism OC, EV-01:

Yes, its name is just 'love' backwards. No, I will not be taking any feedback on this. Yes, EV-01 was only ever assigned to Bill's case due to the Theraprism being desperate to make some progress in rehabilitating him. No, it did not work anywhere close to staff's expectations - Bill didn't even appreciate EV-01's matching fondness for bowties! (He claimed the fondness to be "cultural appropriation" and insisted he'd been traumatized by it.)

Anyway, if you like my stuff, reblogs are very much appreciated, and if you really really like it, perhaps consider my commissions or yeeting a teeny tiny tip my way? I am trying to recoup over 500 dollars in vet bills, ahaha... 🙃

In other news, I loved all the fun tags people added to the prior naked-karaoke comic (such as 'the hat and bow-tie stay ON during sex' and the classic '[insert keysmash here]', as well as the many amused/bewildered remarks about how I either made the bricks a piece of clothing or just straight up peeled Bill's skin off). However, I think my favorite thing by far was the several people losing their shit over the fact that I gave Bill toes. Like, excuse me? The magical talking triangle can have fingers but not toes??? Since when was that a rule????? 🤣 (Also the one person who reblogged with the cropped panel where Bill's fishnets pants are falling off to ask why Bill peed himself. Dude, I want to examine your brain...?)

Okie-dokie, I'm sick of looking at all of this stuff now and I'm off to go to work, after which I will either scribble some more goofy "Billford" comics or perhaps draw my lame human!Bill in Situations, idk yet. Maybe I'll even finally draw more than just a single other person's human!Bill...? Who knows, but I sure hope I can mix it up a little and not turn whatever I draw into a month-long fukken project. >:\

[justanawkwardlesbian]

I swear to god I will never get a fucking break

[bakugoushotwife]

in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!

and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.

we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??

let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.

P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)

[thebestsetter]

He has never been afraid of dying.

Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).

Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.

Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.

"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"

He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before

"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.

"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."

How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!

"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).

He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.

He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.

Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.

And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.

"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"

And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!

~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"

Masterlist

[1d1195]

Invitation

~3.5k words

From me: I mentioned I had a kinda rough weekend. This just sort of wrote itself. Def a stand alone. Second chance at love. I wrote it mostly in the drafts page and didn't do a whole lot of editing for continuity so it's probs not very realistic nor will it make a ton of sense. But anyway.

Warnings: MC parent death; funeral, angst, angst angst. But I'm hoping if you read it you'll see some cathartic, comforting fluff.

Summary: She and Harry broke up years ago and it was completely fine. But seeing her again, even under sad circumstances has his heart pulling him closer to her.

It had been eight years since he had last laid eyes on her. But when he read the piece on her mum off a mutual friend’s Facebook page he was transported back to one of those moments he spent so totally in love with her.

The idea that her best friend was gone made him terrified for her well being. It was the reason he was in a hotel room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Double checking he didn't miss any spots while shaving. He looked simultaneously presentable yet solemn. Her mum was special, beautiful. She made Harry feel at home the entire time they dated. Bought him thoughtful gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Made sure she bought his favorite snacks and always inquired about school, work, or his favorite show. She joked with her that Harry was too good for her and she didn’t treat him well enough (which was inherently false). She was the perfect girlfriend and had the perfect mum.

He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Harry didn’t want to make his appearance about his arrival at the funeral home at all. He stepped in line silently, tried not to make eye contact with anyone and slowly made his way through toward the front, pretending he was invisible. He looked at the picture boards as he walked along his favorite girl and her mother in so many of them. Both were beautiful and Harry thought she was going to look just like her mother when she was older and so he was really lucky that he would know she was beautiful for the rest of his life. But he would have predicted that anyway.

Their relationship ended amicably enough. They were changing, time moving on, and quite frankly it felt like they couldn't spend enough time together so it didn't seem fair. "Shouldn't we want t'spend time with each other, beautiful? Shouldn't we feel feel bad we're not spending time together? It shouldn't be forced. You're m'favorite person in the world, kitten. S'not fair."

He was right of course. She agreed. So they went their separate ways. Since they were still in university at the time, they saw each other frequently. Their friend groups overlapped a bit so they weren't rid of each other all that much until after graduation. There was even a picture of the pair of them together on that day--her mum's suggestion. It was apparent more so then, that they were changing and moving on but Harry was grateful for that picture. When he saw the notice of her mum's passing, he looked at it fondly and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting and wishing he had made more time for her. That she wasn't so busy and their time apart hadn't lasted as long.

But that was eight years ago. Harry was thirty now. He had a few girlfriends during that time and maybe it wasn't a surprise they didn't work out. When he inquired of his friends if he should go to support her, they said it was up to him. Louis and Eleanor were out of the country so they would send flowers. Mitch and Sarah were waiting for Sarah to give birth at any moment so they too, would send flowers.

"I'll be at the funeral," Niall assured him. "I can't make the visiting hours, sorry, Harry," Harry could hear his frown as they spoke on the phone.

"S'okay, s'nice y'can make it t'any of it. She'll appreciate it."

"I hope," a frown in his voice, a sigh in his tone.

"No, she will," Harry was confident. She would never make Niall feel bad--anyone feel bad. It was just the way she was.

Harry was in front of the urn containing the ashes of her mother and he knelt and said a short prayer for her and her sweet daughter. He tried not to think about his own mother at such a sad time and how he would feel if this was her. He shook his head, blessed himself automatically, and stood to greet the receiving line. It was filled with aunts and uncles who were surprised to see him. He didn't fully understand their surprise (of course he would be there for her--even if things were different now) but moved to each one, quietly apologizing for the loss of their sister and only answering how work, life, and everything was with as few words as possible. It was just her and her mom. Dad was out of the picture before she was even born. It wasn't a bad thing because she was her mum's whole life and she never made her want for anything. "Where is she?" Harry asked quietly. Usually the children were first in the line but she wasn't there.

"Another spat with the boyfriend," her aunt rolled her eyes. "You are by far our favorite," she smiled at him encouragingly. "Don't leave till she gets back, if you can. She deserves to see someone who will make her happy right now," she winked.

Harry felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead in surprise. He nodded. Pride bloomed inside him for being the favorite. It wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. His heart felt heavy, worried she was with someone horrible. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

So Harry stayed in the little seating area, watching people walk through the receiving line, looking at the slideshow of pictures that somehow managed to boil down to one person's life. There was even a picture or two of him. It made sense, he was in her life for nearly four years and they were inseparable until they weren't.

Harry smiled fondly at the memories within the pictures and wondered where she could be right now. He had seen the full slideshow twice.

"Harry, you're still here?"

He cleared his throat, stood, and shook one of her uncle's hands again. "Yeah... um... haven't seen her yet."

"She went outside with the boyfriend ages ago. I'm assuming they're still arguing or she's trying to calm herself down enough to come in and fake that everything's fine."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll go check then," he suggested and headed for the door.

Why was she dating someone if it was clear no one in her family liked him?

The men at the door, let Harry through and he quietly walked to the side of the building wondering where she could be having a private conversation at a funeral home. The side was dark except for a flood light that perfectly illuminated the couple. Harry stepped out of sight but strained to listen.

"What do you mean, 'you have to go'? You're seriously joking right?"

Harry didn't know her voice could take on a tone that sounded so angry like that. They never fought that way. No more than who's pizza topping was better or if they had to pick which dinner place to go to on a busy Saturday night.

"Babe, you know with my work--"

"This is my mother," she croaked. It felt like a bullet through Harry's chest to hear her choked up like that. All that grief wrapping in her throat and pulling on her vocal cords.

"I know, but don't you think she would want me to continue living my life and doing what I need to do so--"

"She's my best friend," her voice cracked because she was crying so hard. Harry wanted to run over, unceremoniously knock him to the ground, and comfort her. "You're supposed to be here to support me!"

"Well you know death kind of freaks me out, babe. I'm trying to support our future. I've been here all day."

Her tone was so biting, he truly couldn't believe it. "You've been here for an hour."

Harry winced and shook his head. No one liked death. Everyone was freaked out by it to some degree. But he was supposed to love her; be there for her.

"If you leave, we're done," Harry felt intrusive for listening in but he couldn't move.

"You don't mean that."

"I do, mean that. I really, really, really, really mean that," she sniffed. Good girl. Harry thought. "I have put up with your bullshit like this for way too long and you're unsupportive and if you leave this is it," she assured him. "Work cannot be more important than me."

"It's important for us, babe. So when we get married--"

"And when will that be?" She shouted.

"For the love of God, we're going to do this now?"

"It's been three years. I'm thirty and wanted kids and you are just..." she trailed off. "Fine. Go. We're done anyway."

"Babe, you don't mean that--"

"I will pack my stuff up when I get home."

"And where are you going to go? You don't have a job right now--"

"BECAUSE I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY DYING MOTHER."

Why was she even with this guy? Harry couldn't fathom it. It was so unlike her to date someone so crass and careless. Or maybe Harry was just filled with rage and envy of a man that couldn't help her the way she deserved.

"Well..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I have a plane to catch. Maybe after you've calmed down and aren't grieving we can have a more pleasant conversation."

A silent moment passed between them. Surely he heard it as he said it. It couldn't have been just her and Harry that heard what he implied. "Do... do you... do you think I'm supposed to be done grieving?" She hissed.

He sighed, mumbled something about calling her when he landed, and walked away. He didn't even notice Harry pressed to the building.

Harry watched him get in his car and pull away as if this wasn't the worst day of her life. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn't about him or how he wanted to strangle him. This was about her, her grief.

She was leaning against the wall. She was heaving, sobbing into one hand. For what, at that point, Harry didn't know. He could only see her from behind, the same figure he could have picked out in a lineup and if he was blind. But she seemed smaller. Withdrawn of course. Her free arm wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured softly. She sniveled, spun around. Harry was met with her face grief stricken, heartbroken, and tear soaked. But yeah, she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "Aw, kitten," he cooed gently. "C'mon s'cold outside. Let's get you--"

She threw herself against him as he approached. Her arms around his neck and she continued her sobbing against his shoulder. Sighing, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist and back, she fit effortlessly into his embrace even after eight or so years since he last saw her. It felt natural to hold her like this. "I know," he murmured comfortingly. "I know, kitten," he kissed the side of her head, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine.

"Please don't let go of me," she cried. "I can't--"

"Shh," he hushed. "M'here. M'not letting go until you do," he promised softly. He hoped she wouldn't pull away because he wanted to take care of her the way that asshole couldn't. It didn't matter what the past was it only mattered that her sweet self could find some sort of contentment.

"Please don't leave me," she begged. "I can't do this alone."

It felt like a switch changed in him. Or maybe it was the anger he felt for her ex-boyfriend. Or perhaps a combination of missing her when he didn't really know he had been missing her and all the frustration he felt for the reasons she was so distraught. He would do anything for her. "No way, beautiful. M'not going anywhere," he assured her pressing his lips instinctively to the top of her hair. Patiently he listened to her cries, held her tightly, and lightly brought a hand to the side of her neck. He carefully pressed his fingertips against her skin, hoping that if she was aching (which he assumed every part of her was) it relieved the smallest bit of tension.

"How much did you hear?" She sniveled pulling away enough to glance into his eyes. Her face was blotchy and red, she was sure. Harry looked like he just left his modeling job for ties and cologne. She wanted to look more beautiful--so it would have at least made sense that Harry had ever decided to date her--even if it was years ago. But she was so overwhelmed with sadness, she couldn't feel anything but that and not even her horrendous look could deter her long enough to utter more than a quick apology for snotting all over him. "M'sorry. I look--"

"Shh," he hushed immediately. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket--Mum was always insistent he have one when he wore a suit. Someone is always crying when you need to wear a suit and it's not to work. Carefully, he dabbed under her eyes, and swiped the fabric across her delicate cheeks. "You look beautiful," he assured her a kind, small smile made his lips curl up just enough to get the dimple in his cheek to appear. The one she had told him she was going to stick her tongue in back when they laid on a mattress that was too small for two people and resulted in a giggling tickle fight between two people who were much too old for tickle fights.

What he would have given to make her laugh now.

Harry kept one arm around her waist taking over her own job to hold herself together. "How much did you hear?" She repeated.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Too much, probably."

She frowned; if she could muster an emotion other than sadness and grief, she probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I was waiting inside, but then your uncle said y'were out here and I wanted t'see you and--"

"Do you need to leave?" She asked quickly. "I'm sorry I'm holding--"

"Kitten," he said gently pinching her chin between his fingers so she had no choice but to look in his eyes and process what he was saying. "M'staying here until y'tell me t'leave."

She sighed. For the first time in what felt like months she felt relief. "Okay."

*

She dragged him alongside her to the front of the receiving line. Harry felt slightly embarrassed and out of place but the rest of her family paid no attention to it. Like he was supposed to be there. She hugged and cried a lot over the next two hours. Harry handed her tissues and water.

“What if I don’t tell you to leave?” She whispered. Harry was standing so close to her that no one else could hear. Like it was just the two of them. She was sipping from a water bottle and Harry was stroking her hair back with his fingers while wiping below her eyes with a tissue.

“Then I’ll never go," his voice was quiet, like hers. He kissed her forehead softly.

"You don't have to obviously, you have no obligation... but is there any chance you were planning to be here tomorrow?" She asked.

He nodded hurriedly. "Course, kitten," he smiled gently, almost sad that she thought he wouldn't. "Niall's going t'come too. He's really sorry he couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "I have a hotel room right nearby so I can stay s'long as y'need me. Do anything y'need, too. And Niall m'sure would be happy t'help if y'need anything requiring two people, as well."

"Really?" A fresh well of tears filled her eyes and Harry's grin grew even if it was sad she was so surprised.

"Of course, beautiful. We... we want t'be here for you," he assured her.

She pressed her face against his shoulder again and sniveled against him. "I owe you a new suit," she mumbled into the fabric.

"Shh..." he hushed. "M'here," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout anything else."

*

His hotel room was dark when they entered. Harry didn’t want anything to happen that could be misconstrued due to her grief but she seemed adamant and sure that she wanted to spend the night. Harry was planning to sleep on the floor but instead they chatted way too much. Much later than a girl who had her mum’s funeral the following morning should have chatted. She giggled the way Harry loved and smiled despite how sad she was. Harry told her all about the last eight years, his job, his mum, their old friends and everything in between.

When he looked at the clock, his phone said it was well past one in the morning and she needed to be up early. “Think y’need t’sleep, kitten,” he was lying beside her, fully clothed except he lost the tie. He was brushing her hair away from her face watching her eyes droop.

“Mom didn’t like him,” she whispered. “She didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you,” she told him.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not because he was worried about her sentiment but because her grief was fresh and the tire tracks of where her stupid ex peeled out of the parking lot were still warm. Her mind had to be jumbled and as much as he wanted to kiss her and make promises, it wasn’t the time. Harry was older and more mature now. The way he wasn’t but wished he had been when they broke up. “After that performance, beautiful,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “M’surprised she didn’t poison him.”

“He didn’t even like her oatmeal raisin and white chocolate chip cookies,” she grumbled bitterly.

“Kitten,” he tutted. “How could you let that continue?” He joked, nudging her playfully.

She turned on her side, their faces inches apart on the same pillow. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered.

“There’s no where else I want t’be, beautiful,” he promised.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you. It’s sad this is what it took.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there. “Do y’want me t’sleep on the floor?”

“No,” she shook her head. “This is the first night I’ve felt tired in months. You have to stay here if you want me to sleep through the night.”

“If you’re sure,” he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. He didn’t want to change into different clothes or anything. He just wanted to be there for her.

“This is also your hotel room that I invited myself into," she reminded him.

He grinned at her in the dark. “You’ve always had an open invitation, t’me, kitten,” he brought her closer toward him, kissing the top of her head.

There would be about a thousand and one things to discuss after the funeral. But right then it was late, and they needed to sleep because the day was going to bring more exhaustion and sadness that was inevitable. “Did you mean it?” She whispered quietly after Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

“Mean what, beautiful?” He murmured.

“You’ll never go?”

He nodded. “Mmm,” he hummed inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I meant it,” his words were slurred with sleep and she knew it because she had heard it in his voice hundreds of times in their time together. He was on the brink of dreaming and her mind was reeling.

“Mom wanted us to get back together,” she whispered. “For ages. She had our graduation picture on the fridge,” she explained. “When I was taking care of her these last few months and he was useless, she kept mentioning you. Told me it wasn’t too late to start over. I guess... I guess this was one way she thought she could bring us back together.”

There was no response because Harry had fallen asleep, and she was close behind. She brought the hand that held his to her lips and kissed his fingers inhaling the comforting smell of him as she finally felt like sleep.

“Your mum was the best,” he mumbled. “She brought you into this world, just for me t’find you.”

The words were lost in her mind, her throat, and her aching heart. But she liked to believe that Harry knew already because he was there, and he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

“We can start over, beautiful. M’not going anywhere,” he whispered one more time as sleep overtook her tired mind.

--

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[magicaldestinyharmony]

When The Stars Align

regressed!duke x wife!female!reader oneshot (? it could be more idk)

Duke Ercan Revaz only ever loved one woman but she no longer exists. And it’s his fault. Well, if he wasn’t the only reason then he surely was a reason. He still remembers the first day he saw you. Standing under the moonlight in a garden looking like a goddess straight out of the founding myths of the empire. He stood, not far behind you, watching. Staring. You stood there in an elegant red dress with a champagne flute in your hand leaving the chaos and noise of the ball behind you. A sad sigh escapes your lips and, for some reason, he longed to hear your voice. At the thought, he freezes. He doesn’t understand the feelings flowing through him. He’s new to this sort of thing. Having spent countless years from one battlefield to another, he has zero experience with women. Another sigh from your alluring lips brings him out of his thoughts. He wonders, What is causing you to sigh so much? He then realizes that you were the woman who just publicly dumped her fiance. Your ex-fiance was a complete bastard. He was expecting orders to eradicate this nuisance to high society but you beat him to it and did a great job of ensuring he would never show his face again. He sees a woman approaching you which he recognizes as Countess Labelle. Countess Labelle calls you and you turn to face her. She must be your mother. he thinks. You leave with the countess. As he stares at your retreating back he feels that he must have you and he will make sure that once he does, you won’t be able to leave him.

Ercan now realizes that he went about making you his wife all wrong. Instead of trying to woo you, he did something that he still regrets. Using his power as a duke, he indirectly places your father in debt and demands that if he gets you as a bride, he will pay the debt off himself. Your father, bless his heart, tried to find other means to pay back the money but you stopped him and accepted the marriage. At the start of your marriage, things were fine. He never embraced you and always kept a distance, thinking that you might not have favourable feelings towards him. Still, you had a nice marriage. Things went downhill when he got sent to battle. You discovered papers with orders to place your father in debt in his study. Without him there to at least try to salvage the situation, your thoughts went wild. He came back to the report that you had tried to escape. He was frantic. Why would you try to leave him? He might indeed have placed you in debt, but he paid them off and also made sure that your family was well off. He found you bound to bed rest by the family doctor. You looked terrible. Pale and bags under your eyes. He got into an argument with you which ended with him confining you to your room. You resisted and your health took a hit. The day you died, Ercan regrets that the last thing he told you was a “Good night” and not “I love you” or anything similar. He woke to the balcony doors being opened. His blood ran cold. He ran outside only to see your disappearing smile over the railings. Ercan went mad. He lost you. He lost you. After the funeral was over, Ercan wished that he wouldn’t wake up again. He would rather die than face a world without you in it. He was surprised to wake up and find out that his wish had come true. Well, kind of. Ercan clenches his fist while he stares out the window of what used to be your shared bedroom. What will become your shared bedroom. I promise, this time I’ll never make the same mistakes again. I'll show you just how much you mean to me. This time, you won’t die in vain.

[hyperfocusthusly]

Lifelines

——-

Tommy had been staring at his phone, typing out a message, an apology, anything. He always ends up deleting it. Over and over, so when it actually rings in his hand he almost drops it. The news hits him like a train, pushes everything else to the background.

His sister is dead. Her and her husband, car accident, didn’t stand a chance.

The flight is bad, the funeral worse and then someone from social services shows up with a baby he met once when she was newborn and only really recognises from pictures. The woman hands him a 6 month old child and explains that this is what they wanted. The will stipulated that he would be their guardian in such a circumstance.

He stares at her tiny face. She stares back.

He shuts the door and wonders how anyone could think this was the right choice.

——-

He has to tell his Captain. He chooses to tell Lucy. He distinctly chooses not to tell anyone else.

——-

Babies are hard, as it turns out. There’s no room for grief with an insistent baby taking up every waking second. No rest from being relentlessly needed. No telling her she’d be better off without him.

He thinks about calling.

While he watches her crawl down his hallway after a woodlouse, pointing insistently, letting out an excited little “ah!” as the bug in question scuttles under the shoe rack. She follows it carefully, watching with an intense curiosity that makes something churn deep inside Tommy’s chest.

He thinks about calling.

The first time she gets a fever and won’t settle unless she’s upright on his chest. It’s not the first time Tommy has gone 24 hours without sleep but it feels worse. His nerves scraped raw from her distress. His hand on her back counting her breaths over and over. He thinks about calling.

But what could he possibly say?

——-

The secrecy works until it doesn’t. Until the morning that Chimney is stood in the local doctor’s car park watching Tommy, darker eyed and more scruffy, strap an 8 month old into a seat in the back of his truck. Tommy doesn’t see him, or hear Jee whisper “is that Uncle Tommy daddy? Is that his baby?”

——-

It’s how Chimney ends up stood outside of Tommy’s door one lunchtime. He isn’t home but Chimney knows he needs to wait. He knows what trying to handle a baby that age by yourself is like.

When Tommy gets home and sees who is waiting for him Chimney has to give him credit for actually pulling into the driveway rather than continuing in the opposite direction.

Tommy gets out of the car, Chimney doesn’t miss the moment he takes to collect himself before looking up to him.

“What are you doing here Howie?” He sounds ragged.

“Just checking in, two months is too long, I’m sure someone owes someone a beer.”

He goes for light hearted, trying to ease out some of the tension that has appeared in Tommy’s stance. He is hovering by the back door of his truck, fingers tucked into the door handle, endlessly thankful that she closed her eyes and fell asleep on the drive home. Something hovers in the air between them until Chimney takes a step forward.

“I saw you at the doctor’s last week.” Tommy’s brows crease slightly, then pull back as he realises what Chimney is actually telling him.

“Are you going to hide her from me forever?” Tommy looks relieved somehow, less trapped. He shakes his head and carefully takes her out of the car. Settling her into the crook of his arm and pulling her diaper bag over his shoulder.

“I don’t really drink beer too much anymore.”

“A coffee then?”

“Yeah.” He swallows nervously, tries not to let the implications of this meeting, and the conversation he knows is coming, get to him. “I could do with a coffee.”

—-

[read on A03]

| Part two | Part three |

Tagging some people who interacted with my abstract post about this (hope you enjoy!🫶🏻);

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And also some beloved pals;

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