#protest for better daycare options

[blorbonicplague]

So people are just desperate to find something to shit on someone for, eh?

Why is it so impossible to stay in your own fucking lane and worry about your own very obvious and very real flaws, instead of attacking people for things they can't help?

It's just so freaking frustrating to watch the worst people in society - who could do something about how terrible they are, if they bothered to try - harrass and bully people with mental illness, disability, or even, apparently, having chimerism, or a twin that didn't make it, whatever it is.

If you're looking that hard for something to be abusive about then what you really need to do is look in a mirror. If even a little of that criticism was directed inside they would be too embarrassed to leave their house

Also with the changing skies excerpts out, here’s the reminder that apparently needs to given a second time:

- People with chimerism exist in real life.

- People with schizophrenia and people who are systems or anyone else with “voices” exist in real life.

- All of these people exist in the warriors fandom and can see your posts and read the books.

- Equating a fetus being absorbed with the death of a fully-developed individual capable of having a “ghost” can once again be Creepy Anti-Abortion Rhetoric™️

- And of course, this rhetoric can be and has been used against those with chimerism

[peachnewt]

Midnight Snack - Dogs vs Moths

Necessity is the mother of invention. But being bitter, pissed off, and determined is at least a sibling to invention.

Two weeks after New York's finest rolled out their Robot squad, consisting of ten robotic "dogs", they were used in the suppression of a protest. Originally a peaceful protest until someone yanked a flag out of a protestor's hands and ripped it while shouting expletives. Yelling, pushing, phones capturing the phenomenon of one idiot baiting an already wounded social movement.

Of course the cops came. Of course they set the robotic dogs on the ones holding the signs asking to be heard. There were more protestors than baiters, therefore they were the ones that needed to be "quieted down".

Of course people got hurt.

One woman broke three of her fingers, trying to get her sleeve out of the robot dog's joints, and ended up being dragged 9 yards. One teenage boy suffered a concussion, knocked out when a robot dog ran him over and made him fall onto a curb. And one elderly man, not part of the protest or baiters, just a guy trying to get a bag of apples from one side of the street to the other, tried fending off one of the robot dogs, only for his cane to accidentally strike the cap off the canister for the flamethrower option that the police assured the public "was not operational", and "had safety measures that made what happened a one in a million chance".

The fiery plume had been seen three blocks away. People ran, flattening signs, bodies, and the fallen apples into mush. The old man was still in a burn ward a week later.

Social media threads tried pointing out the countless dangers and damage the dog-shaped robots had done. The press conference given by the police commissioner had called the deployment of the robots a "success against those who would work against law and order".  He neglected to mention that the protestors had a permit for their protest and it had been legal.

Of course outcry against the robot dogs were stifled as hypothetical "good reasons" to use the robot dogs were passed out. Dangerous domestic situation? Use a robot dog instead of cop. Fire in a building? Use a lightweight robot dog to find survivors quicker, making fire and rescue more efficient. Need a guard for a daycare facility against "child predators"? Robot dog; cheaper in the long run, and doesn't have to pass a background check.

Why would a child try to pet the robot dog and get their fingers caught in the joints and seams? That would never happen. It's not a pet, the child should know better.

And yet the police unit with the ten robot dogs had an elementary school submit names for the robotic units. Names like Spot, Basil, Fluffy, Corncob, Piddle, Optimus Prime, Shadow, Terminator, Frankenpup, and Ash.

Of course some people got angry.

And Will was more than angry as he read article after article and social post about the ten robot dogs being hailed as "law enforcement's best friend".

Louis had walked by with another stack of patents and eyed the steaming mug of tea in Will's hand. "Fanboy, any harder and you're going to break that mug."

Will glared at the screen and put down his tea. "Have you seen this?"

"Yes." Louis put half the patents on Will's desk before sitting at his own. "And you should hear what Megan had to say to it."

"Right. She's a former cop. She pissed?"

"She's been going through her contacts to find anyone associated with NYPD or company that made those robotic canines and sold them. She wants to yell at someone so bad.

"How bad?"

"There might be an impromptu combat tutorial later tonight. Make sure you're wearing your cup if you're going to be dumb enough to be the "volunteer" again."

Will hissed and adjusted his hips in the chair. He didn't want to remember the last time he forgot.  "Noted."

Thankfully the "combat tutorial" was cancelled by alarms blaring and Will and Louis running off to find something that someone else found and shouldn't have.

Instead Megan posted an article on the community board of things to do when encountering a robot dog.

1 - Run

or

2 - Smash the hellhound with a long blunt object. Then run.

Three weeks, and another "successful deployment of robotic units" later, a high school robotics team from a small town in Oklahoma submitted their winning design to the patent office. The submission was a formality, for the students, and teacher in charge of the robotics team, had uploaded the schematics to the internet under public domain.

The winning robot was a moth whose hollow body was little bigger than a can of spray paint, and wings over two meters wide. A head with two curly feelers and wide jewel-like eyes, contained a spraying nozzle.  The wing span was necessary due to what it's hollow body would carry.

A can of expanding foam.

They had named it Sky-ju. Probably because naming it Mothra wasn't allowed for copyright reasons.

With the schematics came a video file showing how the robot would flutter off the ground, swoop, hover, and, with the instruction of the person holding the controller, spray the expanding foam on a cardboard cutout shaped suspiciously like a robot dog.

The robot dog was smothered, and the Sky-ju flitted off to spray another day.

Of course Will followed a link to give a charitable donation to the school's club.

A day later someone submitted an altered patent for the moth, but a third of the size, and instead of holding a spray can, it could hold a small bladder full of salty, sticky, pickle juice to aim at the joints of robot dogs. And this one came with a black furry covering for the body that could be removed and cleaned.

It had been named Fluff-ra. And kids were allowed to pet it without fear of their fingers being stuck in joints. As proven by the video posted later that day of kids taking turns with Fluff-ra in a park, squirting down empty soda cans.

There had been a "support me" link. Or course Will bought a Fluff-ra acrylic charm. It would go perfectly with his collection of other nerd-flavored charms he hung on his Christmas tree like ornaments.

Louis, of course sipped his coffee, and shook his head. "You know there could be problems with this getting into the wrongs hands."

Will sighed and signed off the latest patent for a three chambered thermos.  "I know," he admitted.

"What's  to stop someone turning the moths into flamethrowers? Or to give it a can of Axe spray to fumigate someone's house? Or bought by the police and filled with pepper spray?"

"What would have stopped the NYPD from using those dogs against protestors instead of using them for fire and rescue like they promised?" said Will. "I know me buying an acrylic charm doesn't do much in the face of an institution that relies more on brute force than de-escalation. But I need to keep hope somehow."

"I didn't mean to shoot down your hopes and dreams It's just..." Louis finished the last of his coffee. He shouldn't drink another today. Not if he wanted to sleep on time. "It's hard to see them when I've seen a lot of people using things the wrong way for the wrong reasons."

"That's why you have me as your partner," said Will, smiling.

"Hm. Didn't think we would end up in a moral discussion about robot moths and dogs."

"Nearly came close to an argument," said Will.

"Probably," admitted Louis.

"You can make it up to me."

Louis cocked an eyebrow, thinking of all the ways he could "make it up" to Will. "Oh?"

Will grinned, so saucily that it could have been bottled and sold for barbeques. He leaned over and whispered to Louis. "Godzilla verses Mothra movie tonight? The original 1960s version?"

Not what Louis expected. But he would run with it if seeing an old monster flick would make Will happy. "Okay."

"And then maybe afterwards... you could pretend to be one of the moth fairies and me a lost explorer on an island?"

"There are fairies in a Godzilla movie?"

"You'll find out."

Of course he would.

---

You can watch Mothra vs Godzilla free on Tubi, Shout Factor, and Youtube!

[mytheoristavenue]

CAN WE HAVE AN AU WHERE ITS POSSIBLE FOR ROBOTS AND HUMANS TO HAVE CHILDREN, Y/N GETS PREGNANT WITH SUNDROP’S CHILD AND HOW WOULD SUNNY WOULD REACT, DO, ETC.

FNAF SB Sundrop x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons

Of course! Sorry for the late responce, I'm a bit backed up on requests at the moment!

Summary: You and Sunny have been dating for several months after you'd begun working in the Daycare. After finding out he was biologically accurate, you soon discover that you are pregnant.

Warnings: None

-You are both an emotional wreck. When you told him, there was a sharp silence hanging in the air between you both. You hadn't thought that it could be possible that he be fertile, after all, his parts were mechanical from what you could tell. None the less, here you were. carrying his child. Honestly, you were terrified. You had never considered having kids, let alone with a robot. How could the pair of you give your child a good, normal life? How would it look, would it have a good quality of life? Would it be able to talk, speak, and learn normally? While your mind was racing, on the verge of terrified tears, Suuny's eyes had already begun to leak inky black oil with a pitifully thankful smile. He wasn't sure what he'd done right to give him such wonderful luck, but he was sure he'd never do another bad deed. He was sure your pregnancy was the product of some sort of beautiful karma. He didn't know what would happen next, but he was so excited for whatever it would be.

-You finally have a serious disgussion about the future of your child. About a week after you took your test, and discovered yourself positive, you had to sit Sunny down and ask him the big question. Are the two of you going to keep this baby? And if so, how? Your question hung in the air when you mubled it for the first time. When you repeated it, Sunny felt like his entire circuit board had stalled. He didn't know there were other options, but still, the question was petrifying. You had to do research with him, and explain what your options were, and let him know that he always had a say in what would happen, but you would have the last say. You both sat backstage behind his podeum for hours, googling abortion and what it meant, aswell as adoption, and of course, what keeping a raising the baby together would entail: stable income, schooling, medical upkeep, housing, and dealing with any issues that may arise with him being a robot, and you a human. In the end, you both decided to keep the baby, but kept adoption as your back up plan, should your relationship, or any other circumstance go south.

-You found a friend on the mechanical maintainence team that would be willing to upgrade Sunny in preperation for fatherhood. It was Sunny's idea. For the first few months of your pregnancy, he'd been observing and intaking data of the way the fathers that brought their children to the Daycare acted. He compiled his information, as well as some that he'd gathered from the most trusted parenting websites that he could find into a private database labeled 'How to be a Dad'. After about a week of doing so, Sunny began to realize that the traits he wanted to put into his parenting conficted with the traits he was programmed with, so against your better judgement, he asked you to help him seek out a mechanic that could change his coding. After enduring what was most likely the biggest fight you'd ever had with him, you finally agreed, if only to make him happy. You found a mutal employee that was very accepting of your little family, and agreed right away, free of charge. Sunny forbaid you to be in the room during the proceedure, he said didn't want you to see him apart like that, but in reality, he just didn't want you to hear him tell the mechanic what he wanted changed, for fear that you'd protest. After several hours, and a good recharge, Sunny reemerged from his little cove, to greet you with a slightly deeper, and calmer voice. He sounded more like Moon now, yet he still had that signature Sunny tone. His body was padded with foam that was coated with plastic for easy cleaning, and his demeanor was more serene. Overall, he'd matured.

-He waits on you, hand and foot. From the first moment, sunny's mind had been taken over by your safety and comfort, but after morning sickness, and cravings set, in, his concern grew ten fold. He tired to take over all of your responcibilities at work, much to your dismay. You loved working with the kids and had to remind him of not only tha, but the fact that if it wasn't you doing the work, you'd cease to have a job. He agreed to let you do the bare minimum of what you had to. He would always keep you stocked with your favorite pregnancy snacks and anyhting that could ease your discomfort and cramps. Hot packs, yummy snacks, and massages oh my!

-Sunny's mechanic becomes your doctor. Of course, the mechanic was never wasn't your primary obsetrician, but you couldn't had an animatronic at your appointments, and it was unfair that Sunny didn't get to watch his child develope, while you did. To remedy this, twice a month, your mechanic would have you and Sunny meet them in Parts and Services for an ultrasound. They would lay you down in the chair that the animatronics rest in during upgrades, apply cold gel to your growing belly and manipulated a robotic arm to roll a wand across it to show Sunny the picture of your child on the monitor outside the capsule. The first time, you did this, you happened look over to the window closest to where you boyfriend stood, just in time to watch his eyes widen in astonishment, oil slipping from the lights that he called eyes, before they flicked to yours. You could feel the overwhelming joy radiating from him, and it brought you to tears. Your mechanic also held back tears, glad they could be apart of this beautiful moment. They quickly unlocked the capsule to allow you to exit, but before you could even get up off the chair, Sunny rushed in a scooped you into his arms, both of you sobbing happy tears, ecited for the arrival of your daughter.

-You decide on a name for your daughter. After months of deliberation, agruing, and research, you finally decided that you both you pick three names, and have a third party decide which one sounded best with your last name. Who better to be your third party than the one person who had been there since the start? Sunny, of course, hated the idea of leaving your daughter's name up to Moon, but after days of arguing, he relented. You chose the names: Amelia, Louisa, and Olivia, while Sunny chose more...on theme suggestions, being: Star, Eclipsa, and Aurora. After writing the names down on a sheet of paper, Sunny allowed himself to fall back, in favor of Moon, in a rather cranky way, might I add. After taking the suggestions into consideration, Moon looked up at you, asking if he was allowed to create an option. You guessed it couldn't hurt and gave him the go ahead. The name he added ot the paper brought you to tears, and you knew it was the perfect thing to call your daughter. Moon simply smikred, letting you know that he had had it in mind since you first told Sunny about your pregnancy. After he felt his work was done, he smuggly prepared to give your boyfriend back control of their shared body, and return to his rest. When Sunny's eyes illuminated with bright white light again, you could plainly see inky tears welling up in his eyes. You knew then and there that he loved the name as much as you did. Your daughter, due in just four months, was to be named 'Dawn'.

-You give birth. After so much anticipation, so many tears, and so much patience, today was the day. You had been at work in the Daycare, playing house with the kids. They were fasinated with your pregnancy, and some of them enjoyed playing with you, as if you were their mother, about to deliver their sibling. You never had an issue with it. Who were you to tell them no if they wanted to sepnd all day bringing you plastic food while you sat around? Suddenly, as a little girl brought you a rubber slice of ham on a scratched plastic plate, your head shot up as your cried out. Something was very wrong, that much you could tell. Your lower back hurt badly and excruciating pain shot up your spine and around the sides of your stomach every few minutes. It finally dawned on you: you were having contractions, and they were getting more frequent every time you had one. You shouted out for Sunny, who had been leadin a crafts session across the Daycare. After a lack of responce, many of the kids waiting on you ran off to go find him. Within ten minutes, would were strapped intot he Parts and Service chair, the mechanic, your boyfriend, and the Pizza Plex nurse at your side. The nurse urged you to push while trying to help guide the head of the baby through your birth canal, while Sunny held your hand, petting your face softly, and the mechanic gathered towels and other supplies. After hours of labor, right in the middle of the business day, with children running around, screaming, and the Glamrock band playing directly above, one last push gave enough way for the nurse to pull your baby the rest of the way otu, quickly cradling it in the crook of her arm. The mechanic quickly handled her a dry towell, as well as a damp rap, The nurse swaddled your precious child in the dry towell, and wiped mucus away from her airways, giving way for a pitiful cry to spill into the air. After you released a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, they passed your daughter over to you for skin to skin contact. Not a dry eye was held in the room as Sunny cautiously reached a slender finger out to feel his daughter's soft skin, only for her to wrap her tiny fist around the tip of his digit. He gasped a bit, oily tears staining his facial plate.

"You did it, Starlight, Dawn's beautiful, just like you."

"No, hun, we did it."

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

Okay the fire ending is really good because there is so much angst opportunities. I would love to see more fanfics about the daycare attendants reactions to the fire. Here are mine + some headcanons and possible situations!

* Sun would be losing his shit, yelling and crying and in general absolutely panicking while Moon would be more in shock, not saying much of anything and staring at the fire with an almost blank expression.

* Sun would probably notice the fire while up in their shared room, trying to rest and recover from the day of work when the sensors go off. Going off onto the porch, the fire would spread SO DAMN QUICKLY in the daycare and almost entirely consume the floor in little to no time at all. But at that moment it isn’t his top concern, because he realizes that Moon isn’t with him which means he has to be down there. Cue panic as he tries to get into contact with his brother, who eventually answers confused as to why he was woken up from charging by his brother losing his shit. He was in the nap time room cleaning up at the time, lost in his thoughts, and it was quickly becoming harder and harder to escape the room due to the fire. When Moon was told about the fire he panicked, running to leave the room but surprise surprise the fire was getting BIG. He managed to get attached to his wire and he got off the ground in time, though barely. 

* After that Moon used the wire to get up to Sun, despite his brother’s protests that it wasn’t safe for both of them to travel on the wire. Moon wasn’t going to take that as an answer and managed to convince him to get on the wire.

* Before he grabbed Sun, he told him to grab some of the shirts they had in their storage room. He was confused but grabbed a bunch of them before going out.

* Smart little cookie he is, he tore up the shirts and made some sort of harness to keep his brother attached to him. It was sloppy but enough so he threw Sun onto his back and off they went.

* Sun had never used the wire before, and Moon had never carried someone while on the wire before. New experiences galore! 

* Now there are two outcomes that could happen here, and I can’t decide which one I like best: Sun and Moon die in the fire. They can’t get out of the building easily, and neither of them have ever navigated so far before, not to mention they have to navigate in the strangest way. Moon wouldn’t be able to see from all the fire, so Sun would have to direct and he has NEVER left the daycare. Eventually the makeshift harness slipped off and Moon held onto his brother but moved to hold him so he wouldn’t fall into the fire. Buuut the ceiling gave out and in a panic he threw his brother out of the way before hitting the floor. Sun had to go on alone. But he doesn’t know his way around as previously stated, and ended up getting trapped and had no where to go.

Now, the nicer option and one I actually really like for some strange reason. It’s the same up to the point of Moon and Sun navigating through the pizzaplex on the ceiling, except instead they find the others. First they find Monty, and although being disturbed by his condition there are more important matters at hand. Honestly I don’t think they would be able to handle leaving someone behind, especially since they are on good terms with the alligator. But Monty is heavy, so Moon ties Monty to the harness as well. Though this makes navigating wayyy harder, Monty does know his way around better so he can help with directions. Still, Moon sort of regrets making the decision to help him as it appears that they won’t be able to get out. But it saves his ass when the ceiling collapses. While Sun is still thrown forward, the difference is that Monty blocks the chunks of ceiling. Now, does it hurt him to basically physically cover the daycare attendant and get a piece of ceiling on the back? yes. But would it have KILLED Moon? Also yes. Moon chooses to wait until later to question it and grabs Monty again and continues on, but again with the navigation issue and the lack of wire makes it hard. Along the way Sun finds Roxy and she joins the chaotic gang of frantic animatronics, but asks Sun to please go get her girlfriend Chica. Now, Moon isn’t happy about this and tries to gently but quite irritatedly tell her that they can’t, but Sun agrees and goes back in to find Chica. Thank god Chica knows her way around, because when she was informed of the situation she grabbed Suns hand and booked it. He just ran and tried to keep up with her. They met at the front entrance, where there was another issue: They can’t get through the metal blockade. But Chica knew they wouldn’t be able to, so without a word she grabbed Roxy’s hand, snagged Moon and ran to the fire exit. She let Sun run on his own, as he could still at least somewhat see and Chica wanted to prioritize getting a firm grip on the two friends that couldn’t- Moon because of the fire, because again locked in night vision mode and fire in night vision mode hurts like hell, and Roxy for obvious reasons. Suns fast enough to keep up thankfully. They actually got out, somehow, and had to exchange information to get a better idea as to what was happening. Freddy felt terrible at seeing them, because he probably just realized he left them all to die. It definitely would cause some issues with the group, but it opens the potential for a happy ending :D

Or more angst if they all get taken out when around each other. 

[amyscascadingtabs]

darling, you should know i’m a helicopter

a healthy dose of hurt/comfort with added baby snuggles, because i truly felt for amy in this episode. it's been a long time since i just wrote something quick but i hope you enjoy! 🥰

oh and if you want a picture this is the pajamas mac is wearing, okay cool

read on ao3

 Amy doesn’t mean for it to be a breakdown.

 She’s not surprised when Mac’s familiar piercing cries wake her up again a mere hour and a half after she’s fed him and put him to sleep for the night. As miraculous as Charles’ methods seemed, she still believes some babies are just fussy, and her son is one of them. It’s the only logical conclusion she’s come to after six, eight, ten, and twelve weeks all passed without any notable improvement in Mac’s ability to sleep longer stretches, and now he’s five months old and defying every single baby book and website that informs her he should be well settled into a sleeping schedule by now. He’s just fussy, or a high need baby, or whatever other term with needlessly negative connotations there is to make Amy feel like she's doing a bad job. It’s who he is and it’s what she’s used to, so she just scoots to the edge of the bed and picks him up from his travel cot in her still hurting arms before he can wake up the rest of the house.

On another night, she might have tried to walk around with him first, play some white noise or bounce on the yoga ball with him, but she’s tired and dejected and scared to wake up anyone else, so she goes for the easy option. The buttons of her pink striped pajama shirt are easily accessible for this exact purpose, and resting Mac’s head in the crook of her right arm, she gently guides him to her chest and exhales in relief as the crying comes to a stop. At least this, she can do, and the idiots who write advice pages about how you shouldn’t get your baby used to falling asleep at the breast have probably never even met a real baby.

 She leans back against the pillows when she’s sure Mac’s found a good latch and she can hear his content grunts and swallows. His hand has found a steady grip on her newly washed hair, probably getting drool in it again, but she can’t be bothered to try and unclench his little iron fist when he’s finally happy. Watching his perfect chubby cheeks as they hollow and fill, stroking the soft baby curls that are getting lighter and more like Jake’s every day, Amy’s overcome with another wave of that crazy all-consuming love that keeps surprising her, and then she’s the one who can’t stop her tears from falling.

 The only thing she ever wants is to keep him safe. In a world of pandemics and injustice, where the news gives her anxiety attacks more days than not and everything she thought she knew keeps changing, at least she can make sure Mac has his every need attended to. It’s been her life while staying home for the past five months, and she likes to think she’s handled it well all things considered, but after Charles’ nip tips and three-hour imprisonment of her child, Amy can’t help but feel like she’s done it all wrong.

 Her son is at his happiest when she can’t bother him. Once again, her high-strungness and failure to just be chill have proved her unfit for motherhood. She’s too anxious, too stressed, too overprotective, and the baby in her arms looking up at her with the warmest, roundest brown eyes she’s ever known is seriously unlucky and he doesn’t even know it.

 She doesn’t know where the negative thoughts are coming from, but sometimes breastfeeding has this effect on her – another sign, the self-hating voice in her head whispers – and it’s been an exhausting day, so she lets the tears come and hopes Jake is too deeply asleep to notice her mini-breakdown. Why is this so hard for her, and why can’t she just relax? How come Mac seems to be the only child she’s heard of whose sleeping habits at home have gotten worse and not better after his first few weeks at daycare, and how come even the most gentle of sleep training methods break her heart when Mac cries like he’s been abandoned?

 She’s wiping her tears with her free hand before wiping Mac’s cheeks with the muslin blanket when Jake begins to stir next to her, and even that makes her feel guilty, because he’s had a long day, too. He rubs his hand against her upper arm as if sensing that something’s off, yawning as he pushes himself up into a half-sitting position.

“Hey,” he mumbles in his softest sleepy voice, a worried crease appearing on his forehead. “Are you okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she tries, but her voice breaks, so she shakes her head. Mac is starting to pull away, so she unlatches him and sighs when she realizes that the shirt she’d packed clean already has milk stains on it. She rests him upright with his head on her shoulder instead, patting him on the back and trying to stop the tears that won't stop coming.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Is it Charles again? Because I really think he felt bad, but I’m happy to tell him off again if you want me to.”

“It's not Charles.” Amy sighs. “Well, it kind of is, but it's more that... I can't believe the best Mac has ever slept was when I wasn't even there. I try everything and nothing works, and Charles straight-up locks him in a room, and that makes him fall asleep? It feels like more proof I wasn't meant to do this,” she says, and she can see him immediately opening his mouth to protest. “Like even Charles is a more natural mom than I am.”

 Mac makes a hiccuping noise, spitting up a little bit of milk on the muslin blanket Amy put on her shoulder. Jake wipes it away before laying an arm around them, half-hugging them both.

“No offense, but that's the worst lie I’ve heard today, and that's including the stuff Terry said about me.” He strokes Mac’s back through the blue pajamas with little moons and clouds with faces as he begins to whimper again. “You're the best mom to him ever, Ames. You do everything for him. You literally kicked down a door to get to him today. Why do you think someone would be better?”

Amy sighs as she adjusts Mac in her arms, swaying him slightly and being surprised when it actually makes him go quiet. He has his eyes closed, fists up in front of his face, and just the thought that she could be doing something wrong by him makes her heart shatter.

“Because I try too hard,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jake to hear. “When he was locked in by Charles, I couldn't check on him, and it was the best nap he's ever had. All because I worry too much about him. Because I don't know what else to do. I want to keep him safe, but instead I’m somehow not doing enough and doing too much at once.”

She tickles that adorable baby chin with her index finger. Mac grips it, bringing it to his mouth with determination, and it makes both parents laugh. Why he likes this but rejects every single kind of pacifier Buy Buy Baby had to offer, she’ll never understand.

“He knows you love him,” Jake says, as if that was an obvious fact. He likes to claim he can read Mac’s mind about these things, a skill which Amy thinks would have been a lot more useful if it had also worked to figure out what it is their son needs during their worst nights of crying. It's what she needed to hear right now, though, and she leans her head on his shoulder as a silent thank you. “And just because he might be a little introverted sometimes doesn't mean he doesn't love you like crazy, too. I mean, that's what you tell me when I interrupt you when you're reading, right?”

She smiles. “I guess.”

“I know you worry,” he continues. “But just because Mac likes his peace and quiet sometimes doesn’t mean you’re doing a bad job. Maybe we could even let him start sleeping in his nursery at night, you know, just see what happens?”

Just the mention of not having her son within arm’s length at night makes Amy freeze and a million nightmare scenarios flash through her head, and Jake laughs a little as he feels her shoulders tense. “Okay, I can tell that was too big of a step and you’re freaking out, so maybe not. But one day?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” she decides, carefully trying to pull her finger out of her son’s mouth. “Thanks, babe. I just really want to go back to sleep.”

 Mac’s eyes are fluttering, a telltale sign that he’s starting to fight his sleep, stretching his legs and letting out the most adorable of baby-sighs. Jake runs his thumb over his son’s forehead and nose in an attempt to make him relax, and shakes his head as Mac only forces his eyes open again.

“He’s lucky he’s so cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s lucky we love him,” Amy mumbles, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

“Yeah. I mean, who needs a full night’s sleep anyway, right?” Jake says, and Amy just stares at him with a blank expression.

“I know you’re joking, but I would almost leave him in Charles’ hands for a night again if it meant I got a four-hour stretch, and that’s saying something.”

“Yeah.” Jake grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’m kind of thinking about it too.”

 Thinking that maybe Mac will repeat his magical streak of at least managing to fall asleep on his own, Amy tries to put him down in the cot again, but she’s barely moved before he lets out another unhappy cry. She lifts him upright against her chest again, biting her lip and trying not to feel defeated as she starts the hushing and rocking all over again.

“Hey, I can take him,” Jake says, reaching for him. “You need to sleep so you can stop crazy-spiraling, and I’ve barely held him all day. I’ll walk around with him outside for a while, that might do it.”

 It’s not the typical declarations of love they used to share, but as he puts the muslin blanket on his shoulder before taking Mac and getting out of bed with him, Amy’s confident that she’s never loved her husband more. This, right here, watching him with sleep-tousled curls in just his t-shirt and pajama pants as he adjusts his son and bounces him slightly in his arms while the crying turns into a more gentle fussing, is far hotter than any sex dream about Sanjay Gupta could ever be.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 7

First

Previous

Sorry the chapter is late my schedule got thrown off by a hurricane

Three days after they arrived in Gotham, they officially ran out of cash.

Honestly, it was a wonder they had even lasted as long as they had. Who knew that rich kids had so much money just laying around? Certainly not her, if she had she probably would have reconsidered rejecting Adrien’s old offers to date to make their fans shut up... because damn.

Now, they sat outside Drake Manor.

Marinette sat, back resting against the gate, playing a game with the baby. In an effort to soothe the kid’s need to fall from high places, she had tossed him a foot in the air and then caught him. Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to help, but it did entertain Damian. He giggled like a madman (mad...baby?) every time she did it and would yell ‘up!’ every time she tried to stop. Her arms were tired. She’d been doing this for what felt like years, and would be doing it for many years to come. Save her.

The only person that could possibly save her was, unfortunately, busy with other things.

Tim was applying for credit cards. He had stuck his computer and phone through the gate to get their wifi so the company wouldn’t be suspicious (Marinette said they probably wouldn’t be but the king of paranoia had insisted) and was now pressed up against it as far as he possibly could, arms poking through the bars to keep working.

“This is only until we have enough money to get on our feet,” Tim said.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Tim, I know.”

He nodded a little against the bars that were pressing against his face and allowed the subject to drop -- for now, Marinette knew it was only a matter of time before he said it again.

“At least one of us needs a job at WE, that’s the only way both of us would be able to send the kid to daycare.”

Marinette stopped tossing Damian, considering, only to immediately start up again when the baby screamed “UP!” at her.

“Probably me,” she said, finally. “The you that lives here is a direct competitor, you might get recognized.”

He nodded his agreement.

And then she sighed and set Damian in her lap because her arms were physically unable to lift him anymore. Damian screamed at her but she just wrapped her arms around him tightly and pet his hair until he relaxed.

When he finally shut up, she said: “You know we’re going to have to wait for both of us to get a job.”

He paused in his typing. “What do you mean?”

“Since it’s WE, they probably have pretty thorough background checks. Two adults that seemingly have lived here their entire lives getting a job at pretty much the exact same time is… more than a little suspicious.”

He pulled his head back from the gate and she wondered idly if he was finally done, but then he just knocked his forehead against the bars. There was a resounding clang that neither of them minded, all of this world’s Drakes were currently at work, and he groaned.

“Yeah, that kind of screams ‘we’re using fake identities’, doesn’t it?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

He groaned again, louder this time.

“I can stay at home,” she offered, somewhat reluctantly. “I can cook.”

He sighed and shook his head as much as the gate would allow. “No. You’re probably going to have an easier time getting a job, WE accepts basically everyone. We need money, so I’ll be a stay-at-home dad.”

Oh.

She smiled a little and looked down at Damian, who was currently petting her hair like she had been petting his just a few moments before. She blinked but reciprocated the action. Damian lit up and reached his hands up so he could get more of her hair.

She leaned down a little and nuzzled her nose against Damian’s.

She glanced up and saw Tim checking over what he had done so far, apparently thinking the conversation over.

Marinette hesitated. If she really wanted, she could just let the conversation drop.

She mumbled a quiet: “... thanks, Tim.”

He didn’t look up from his screen, but she could see the pink tinge in his ears. “It’s fine. I don’t even know what I’d do yet. I’ve only ever had one job and I got it because of nepotism.”

She grinned. “From rich kid to even richer CEO to trophy husband.”

“Oh, how the mighty hath fallen.”

She felt a hand tug her hair and looked down to see Damian pouting, so she started running her fingers through his hair. It was getting kind of long, she wondered if she should get it cut. She didn’t want it to get caught on something, the kid could get hurt.

A thought occurred to her. She glanced at Tim out of the corner of her eyes. “You know… you’re taking my name and I’m going to be the one getting money… maybe you should grow out your hair and I’ll cut mine. Y’know, to really get into our roles.”

He huffed a little. “Shut up.”

She laughed. “Fine. But, really, I think you should grow your hair out. It’d be pretty.”

The both of them tensed at the implications of what she had said. She wondered if she could play it off as a joke… or maybe she should apologize? The blush that had tinged his ears was now creeping down his neck. Was he embarrassed or flustered or angry?

Before she could figure out what to do, Tim’s phone rang.

He fumbled for the phone and pressed it to his ear, successfully hiding the rest of his face from her view.

“Hello?... yes, this is Timothy Drake… yes, I just applied for a new card… I figured I would have a backup in case one of my others got stolen, you know how it is… can I have the card information in advance?... great, thank you!”

He hung up and turned to her, smiling widely.

“We have money.”

She didn’t react how he expected, no playful grin or witty remark or even just a smile. Instead, she doubled over with laughter. Damian whined a little in protest as she threatened to squish him.

He frowned confusedly. “What?”

She motioned vaguely to his face, giggles still spilling from her lips. “It’s just… you’ve been leaning against the gate for so long that it’s made little lines in your face.”

He huffed. “It’s not that funny.”

She managed to get her breathing under control again. “It’s a little funny.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She opened her mouth to continue the dumb little argument they were having but then Damian yelled: “NO!”

Tim lit up. “HA. He agrees with me.”

She gasped. “Dami, how could you? You’re supposed to be on my side,” she said with an over exaggerated pout.

Damian looked up at her pout for a moment before slowly leaning forward and attempting to wrap his arms around her middle in a hug.

“Oh,” she said softly, carding her fingers through his hair a few times. “Okay, I forgive you.”

“Weak,” Tim teased.

She looked over to send him a glare, but then she saw the fond smile on his face and relaxed.

“I am. Look at him. He’s so cute.”

“Yeah. He is.”

~

Tim leaned back against the bed frame.

Marinette was out at a job interview for WE. He hoped she got it, he didn’t know what they’d do if she didn’t.

But, he didn’t really have much time to think about that. He was on baby duty.

He’d gotten better at dealing with Damian while doing things, it seemed. He had found a position to sit where one knee was pulled to his chest and the other curled close to him, his legs acting as a chair for the kid. One hand held the kid’s bottle as he drank, and the other scrolled through apartment options on his phone.

They’d probably be in an apartment for at least a while. He didn’t know how homeownership was in this new version of Gotham, but in the old one if you were able to afford a house on your own then you were an immediate target for thieves.

So: apartments.

They could probably get away with a one-roomer, at least while Damian was young. It wasn’t like they needed much room for him, anyway, they might even get rid of the crib since it didn’t look like either of them had the willpower to leave the kid in it all night.

Damian slapped the bottle away, apparently done despite only having drank… all of it. Huh, he must have been more out of it than he’d thought.

He turned off his phone and looked down at the baby. Damian looked back up at him, giving that wide-eyed stare babies were so fond of.

Tim cracked, a smile making its way across his face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his little brother’s head.

“So, kiddo, what do you want to do?”

Damian babbled at him in an authoritative tone. Tim nodded thoughtfully, as if he understood him and was truly considering the idea of whatever it was he said.

“Interesting idea. I think we should watch TV. Sound good?”

Damian nodded, though Tim really doubted that he had somehow managed to say the exact thing that he had.

He pulled the remote out of the bedside drawer and started flipping through channels, looking for something that was bright and colorful enough for Damian to enjoy it but at least semi-decent so Tim wouldn’t be bored out of his mind.

He came upon Monsters LLC and turned it on. While Tim agreed that, considering the way that Mr. Firenoose acted, the company would totally be an LLC, it just didn’t have the same ring to it as Monsters Inc. So sad. The kids of this world were missing out.

At least Damian seemed to be enjoying it. He gasped and pointed at this world’s version of Sully and yelled “KITTY!”

Before Tim could correct him, though, the knockoff Boo said the same thing.

Great. Well. He supposed the kid was close enough. At least there were no monsters in this world for Damian to mistake for cats. It wouldn’t come back to bite them. Probably.

And, so, that’s how the day went. Tim and Damian sat in bed, Damian leaning back against Tim’s chest and watching his movie, a new bottle of milk half in his mouth. Tim scrolled through apartment options on his phone, picking out a few to check out over the next few days.

After a while, Marinette slipped in. She kicked her shoes off, letting them fly in opposite directions, and then trudged across the room.

She dropped onto the bed face down beside the two boys and Tim frowned.

“I’m guessing that means it didn’t go well?”

“No, I got the job,” she said, her voice muffled. “They said I could start tomorrow if I wanted.”

“... then…?”

She slowly picked her head up. She looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m an intern.”

… yikes.

He hesitantly reached a hand out and patted her head a few times.

She rolled her eyes and pulled a pillow to herself so she could scream into it.

Damian looked away from the movie, eyes wide, and then looked at Tim like he would somehow know how to fix it.

… he probably was supposed to. He was the adult here and, supposedly, married to her.

But Tim was a bat. So, he pulled a classic bat move:

“Want to spar?”

“... kinda,” she admitted. “But what about Damian?”

Damian was currently entranced by a movie about… was that unicorn eating trash?

It didn’t matter. (It totally did. What the fuck was going on in this movie?)

Tim smiled. “I’m sure that Kaalki and Tikki can warn us if something is going to happen. Not that it looks like anything will.”

Marinette hesitated before breaking into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. I’ve been feeling a little antsy.”

He gently picked up Damian and set him on the bed, telling the kwamis to keep him safe for the maybe ten minutes they would be distracted, and then led Marinette a few feet away so they could let out a little bit of their excess energy.

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

[liibrii]

fem!Miya!Reader & Miya family

Part of the Third Miya Series

Synopsis: Three is a weird number. It's only two units bigger than one and only a unit more than two and yet it seems to be so much more, especially when the three in question are toddlers needed to be dressed for kindergarten.

wc: 2.1k

a/n: baby Miyas, the ultimate serotonin providers 🙃 if you wanna be tagged in future chapters let me know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

Mrs Miya has always trusted her gut feeling and in that moment it was telling her the bathroom was down the corridor, last door on the left, and, just as Mr Miya had told her that morning, eating leftover curry for breakfast was a dreadful idea.

Doctor repeats her words and Mrs Miya's neck becomes completely stiff. If it wouldn't she'd perhaps be able to look at her husband whose face turned ashen pale. “Triplets?“

Well, this will take buy one get one for free jokes on a whole new level.

Doctor's words are just buzzing and the soon to be Miya parents nod and smile and nod and hold on each others' hand as if there's no tomorrow. They're silent on the way out.

Mr Miya turns to his wife. “Do they even sell strollers for three kids?”

Three is a weird number. It's only two units bigger than one and only a unit more than two and yet it seems to be so much more, especially when the three in question are toddlers needed to be dressed for daycare.

You all wear the same colours because Atsumu would throw a tantrum if your jumper wasn't the same colour as his and you would throw a tantrum when yours was a different colour than Osamu's, who in turn would throw a tantrum because his jumper was now the same colour as Atsumu's.

Mrs Miya had read advices that one should always dress their twins (or, in this case, triplets) differently as it is good for their personality development; which is all well and good and a great advice, except that whoever wrote it forgot to take into account that two and a half out of her three children saw being dressed differently as their siblings as a horrific violation of their toddler rights.

Your parents tell themselves one day you'll grow out of this phase, but till then mom stitches little numbers one, two, and three on the edges of your clothes. She did start stitching your names, but with only two pairs of hands in the house and three little sprouts in constant need of attention there was never enough time to finish them.

“One,“ says Mr Miya and Atsumu raises his hands.

“Ichi!“ he proudly chimes.

“Two,“ Mr Miya grabs you before you'd crawl out of the reach of his arms.

“Ni!“ like his brother Osamu too raises his chubby fists, but only halfway.

“And three!”

“San!“ You hug your dad's neck, perhaps hoping that will get you out of having to wear socks.

And heaven forbid they ever messed up which jumper belonged to whom. It was beyond your parents' wisdom how you could tell the number stitched on the edge was not the same they said when counting your heads, but you could.

“Must be yer superpower,“ jokes Mr Miya while changing your sweater that has the wrong number on the edge. He barely pulls it off when Atsumu's chubby hands already grab it and begin pulling it over his head. He screams when his father offers to help, pouting even if he's completely lost between the left sleeve and the opening for the head.

“Alright buddy,“ muses Mr Miya and turns his attention to Osamu who already pulled his socks off so, naturally, now you've mysteriously lost one of your socks too. Mr Miya sighs. Maybe it's time to let his boss know he's going to be late.

Three is an enormous number, when the three in question are a feverish toddler in your arms and two more running around doctor's office. Perhaps it was time to ask the daycare to put you three into different groups. That will cause an outrage, oh ever since the 'One child, one pillow' incident Mrs Miya is well aware of that. But then again, better that than all of you throwing a tantrum when only one got to leave the daycare early.

“One, two, three,“ she counts your heads under her breath, then hurries over to where you just picked up a very interesting small stone that probably fell from the soles of someone's shoes, “San! I mean y/n, sweetie, that's a stone. See, it's rough and cold.“ You whine when she takes the treasure from you but still  listen closely to her words that spark Atsumu's interest too, and he trots closer to see what is happening. Thankfully feverish Osamu has fallen asleep in her arms. Really, the last thing she needs is his firm conviction the stone is just greyish candy. Mrs Miya still lets Atsumu take the stone in his hands. “No,“ she grabs his hand when he lifts it towards his mouth that is already curving into a grimace. “Hey, hey, no need to cry over it sweetie. Yer gonna wake up yer brother and he needs sleep right now.“

“Is he sick?” your tiny voice chimes in. Mrs Miya nods. “Because he ate melon seeds,“ you nod with all the wisdom of a 3 year old. “He's growin' melons in his tum-tum,“ you tell Atsumu whose wide eyes blink twice before he bursts into tears.

“One, two, three,“ Mrs Miya counts your heads while you play around the house. If you hide from her sight sooner or later screaming and crying alerts her something happened. A moment later Mr Miya returns to the living room with a very much red faced and screaming Atsumu in his arms.

“What happened?“ she asks, crouching down to console you, also crying because there's no way you'd let your brother scream his lungs out by himself.

“Ah the usual,“ he places the scissors on the counter, “wouldn't let him shred his shirt. Osamu, no!“ He quickly grabs his other son who also starts crying, shocked that his own father would take the lost sock from him before he got the chance to find out how it tastes.

Ah, just another Sunday.

The good thing about three children running around is they're never lonely. There are always games to play, fights to win, faces to colour. Most of the days all of you exhaust yours (sometimes apparently infinite) supplies of energy by the time evening falls. Mr Miya puts you to bed (one bed, because trying to make you sleep in separate cribs is apparently a disgusting violation of Toddler convention) before he collapses beside his wife.

“Asleep?“ she asks.

Mr Miya hums. “For now.“

The moment they turn the lights off slide door across the hallway open. Light steps cross the dangerous waters of the dark hallway, enter the bedroom and climb over Mr Miya to the safe haven between the parents.

“Bad dreams?“ asks Mrs Miya. In response Osamu sniffles and snuggles closer. Not a minute passes when two more pairs of legs pass through the darkness of the hallway and climb to be beside their brother. You shriek when Atsumu pushes his cold feet on your back, but dad's stern word makes you stop. A few moments later you're all asleep.  

“One, two, three,“ sleepily mumbles Mrs Miya, patting each of your heads.

“Four,“ says Mr Miya and his wife giggles.

Three is the number of band-aid packages your parents buy per month. Ever since you've grown for about a chopstick taller, well you only grew for about three thirds of a chopstick because nature thought it would be funny if you got outgrown by your brothers at the tender age of 5, it turned out the tall tree in the park could in fact be climbed, if you climbed on someone's shoulders and then pull them on the lowest branch. Sadly the branches aren't big fans of being climbed on but no amount of scratches and falls could stop you from trying.

“A champignon never stops tryin'!“ proclaims Atsumu after the failed attempt that left bark in his hair and Osamu laughing on the branch.

“What's a champignon?“ you ask.

“It's the person who's the best! It's what I'll be one day!“

Osamu snorts, firmly grabbing on the thin branch he's sitting on. “Champignon's a mushroom.“

“No it ain't!“

A mushroom, you make a little note in your memory, because no matter how much Atsumu protests you're more inclined to believe Osamu when it comes to mushrooms.

Your heads turn when you hear mom calling and waving, waiting for Osamu to climb down before running over to her.

“I win!“ announces Atsumu despite Osamu reaching her first.

“Why, because yer a champignon?“

“Are we all here?“ loudly asks Mr Miya before his boys could jump into each other's hair, “identify yerselves!“

“One!“ calls Atsumu.

“Two!“ calls Osamu, louder.

“Three!“ you call and jump, because being louder than them was never an option.

Four heads turn to Mrs Miya. “Mom,“ she raises her hand.

“Excellent!“ proclaims Mr Miya as three small voices cheer. “Then we can get goin'!“

“Where to?“ you ask.

Mr Miya picks up a stick and starts drawing lines in the sand covering the path. “It's a secret but maybe ya can guess, we'll go down this path-“

“A treasure hunt!”

“Almost. At the fountain we'll turn left, and what lies down the fountain path?“

“Pigeons?“ you try guessing.

Osamu bumps his fist on the open palm. “Ice cream stand!“

Mr Miya nods.

“Last one there's a loser!“ shouts Atsumu who starts running before even finishing the sentence. Osamu immediately follows, both ignoring your shouts to wait up.

Three is a funny number. It only works when the two and one have the third , because otherwise it's just one and two. Like a clover that got munched on by a picky rabbit that tried a leaf and then decided it doesn't fit its taste.

Volleyball sort of became the rabbit munching on the clover. One day teachers simply decided you're not allowed to play on the same team as your brothers anymore. And no amount of crying, screaming and sulking could convince the rabbit to give the leaf back.

“Maybe we can sneak ya in,“ suggests Atsumu one night, “all ya hafta do is wear our clothes. No one will know!“

So you try that and funnily enough, people do notice when one and two together make a three, and what surprises children even more is that parents also notice when they return late from school because they had to stay in detention. And as if cleaning the school hallways for a month wasn't enough, now they have to clean the house too.

It is however enough to discourage you from trying to sneak into practice again, so you stick with only coming to games and waiting for their practice to end so you can walk home together. From time to time some of their teammates stop to say hello or to complain to you about their shenanigans, but that's knowledge you hold to yourself, since you never knew when blackmail material might come in handy.

It's only when Osamu teases they get to go to a volleyball workshop and you don't that you get envious.

“It sounds stupid anyway,“ you try pretending you couldn't care less.

“It would be perfect for ya then,“ Osamu shots back and sprints away as you dive after him.

Maybe you are just a teensy bit envious, still as long as you get to play with them when they are home it's not that bad. After returning from their workshops you don't even let them take their shoes off before dragging them to the volleyball net dad set up in the garden. You stand where you always stand, by the net so you can throw balls for them to hit over.

Atsumu pushes you away. “No, this is my position now. I wanna be a setter.“

You don' mind, and throw the ball towards Atsumu who sends it back into a bit of an awkward place and you end up not even hitting it.

Osamu bursts into laughter. “Ya suck.“ He jumps to avoid the kick aimed at his knee. “We play with good players now so yer gonna hafta practice more. There was this tall player with a cool name! Right, Tsumu?“

“Tsumu?“ you repeat.

“Tsumu and Samu. It's our names but they sound way cooler now!“ proudly declares Atsumu.

Your eyes widen in admiration. “I want that too! What should I call myself?“

“Yer always copyin' us,“ complains Osamu but he gets ignored as the first name Atsumu suggests earns him a ball to the face.

“Oh I know!“ You bump your fist on your open palm. “I'll be San!“

Atsumu thinks it over with the same expression Osamu has when trying to decide which udon toppings to order. “San,... Y/n... San,... It sounds so cool! Whaddaja think Samu?“

Osamu shrugs. “San, let me show ya how to spike the ball properly.“

tag list: @espressons @trashy-simp @nachotrash​

[sourbkg]

ｔｒｏｉ���

ｆｉｃ  ｎａｖｉｇａｔｉｏｎ

ｗｏｒｄ  ｃｏｕｎｔ:  ２４５０

ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ:  ｃｕｒｓｉｎｇ

The day continued without a hitch, Mina coming over as promised and explaining everything you wanted to know about the daycare and then some, along with letting you know she wouldn’t be his teacher, but would be a classroom away if anything were to go awry. She also lets you know that due to her ties with you, Kiro could start as soon as possible. Meaning tomorrow. Meaning your plan to go job hunting could go on. She left after a few hours, but not without you pestering her about her favorite dishes. You were hellbent on keeping your promise, especially since her and Kirishima have been so helpful despite not knowing you. 

Dinner came and went, and soon you were tucking Kiro in bed. He gave you a sleepy ‘goodnight’ that you returned before his door was shut and you were left to clean up any remaining messes, followed by getting another thirty minutes of unpacking done. After that, you decided it was time to sleep. 

Sleep didn’t last as long as you would have liked. The sound of music brought you out of it. With a glance at your phone, you were made aware that it was only 3:16 in the morning. Who in their right mind would be up this late? Well-- early? You got up, despite the protests your brain gave, and pulled on a jacket. Peeking into Kiro’s room told you he was still asleep, thankfully, but not for long if the music continued to ring through the house. You pulled on some shoes and went out the door, immediately realising where the music was coming from. 

Bakugou’s house. 

The windows were open. You could tell due to flashes of light breaking through the curtains, and you could hear the sound of a videogame between pauses of the music. With a huff, you walked across the yard. 

You knocked three times and made a face. There’s no way they’d hear you over all the noise. After a moment, you raise your fist to knock again, only for the door to be swung and you’re met with a red glare. You bring your fist down. 

He gives you a look, eyebrows raised and you can hear what he’s saying without his mouth opening. What do you want?

You open your mouth to reply, only to be distracted by yelling coming from the house. With a glance past him, you see red and pink hair you’ve come to know, along with yellow-blonde and black all surrounding a TV, playing what you think is Mario Kart. Bakugou snaps in your face, bringing you out of your daze. 

You blink. 

“Sorry.” Your mouth is drier than you remember, but you push on, “do you guys mind keeping it down a little? I can hear you from inside my house and Kiro might wake up and he gets cranky--” 

He scoffs at your rambling, which causes you to stop, eyebrow raised. 

“Why should we care?” He asks, arms crossing over his chest as he leans against the doorframe, eyeing you up and down. You pull your jacket tighter around you. 

“I’d just rather not have to deal with a crabby five-year-old and the easiest way to avoid that is by you guys quieting down. Please.” You add. 

He seems amused for a moment, it dying in his throat the second he speaks, “I get you don’t want to deal with a shitty kid, but again, why should we care?” 

Your surprise must amuse him even more, because he lets out a snicker. 

“Shitty? He isn’t shitty, and you can take that opinion of him and shove it up your--” 

Kirishima pops up behind Bakugou, clapping a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, “Hey, (l/n)! What’re you doing up so late? Or… early, I guess.” He laughs. 

You look from Bakugou to him, scowl forming on your lips, “I just came over to ask if you guys could quiet down a little. Kiro gets irritable if he doesn’t get enough sleep…” 

There’s a pause, and for a moment you think he might agree with Bakugou. Instead, he shoots you a smile and nods his head, shaking the blonde’s shoulder slightly, “Yeah, of course! So sorry if we woke you up, too, we’re not really used to Bakugou having someone so close by. We’ll do better.” 

He gives you a wink and a wave before he’s turning around and telling his other friends to turn the TV and music down, while pulling closed the windows. Bakugou scoffs at how easily he complies, pushing himself up from the doorframe. 

“Have a nice night.” He says, giving you a tightlipped smile, then closing the door a little too harshly to be considered nice. You scoff to yourself, walking back over to your own house and locking the door when you’re inside. You remove your shoes with your back turned and almost shriek when something tugs on the hem of your jacket. Whipping around, you’re met with the tired eyes of your brother, who looks like he might pass out on the spot. 

“Why’re you up?” You ask, picking him up. He lays his head on your shoulder, mumbling his reply. 

“Thought you left. Got scared.” 

You rub his back, “I’d never leave you for long.” 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” His question is quiet, but you hear it clearly in the silent house. You nod.

“Yeah. Just tonight, though. Don’t wanna make it a habit.” He yawns, offering no other reply as you settle him down in your bed before you lay down yourself. 

———

You wake up a few hours later to the sound of your alarm, not the sound of a bike revving. Kiro’s curled against you with the blanket pulled to his chin, drool seeping out the corner of his mouth. You smile and get up as quietly as possible, doing your morning routine and eating a bowl of Kiro’s sugary cereal. Kiro’s up a little bit later, and you make him his own bowl, then push him to the bathroom and help him with his morning routine. 

The two of you get dressed soon after, making yourself a little more presentable than usual. You are going to be applying for jobs, after all. First impressions and all that. 

When you and Kiro are leaving, the black haired boy and blonde you’d had yet to meet were leaving Bakugou’s house, giving you a wave as they went. Bakugou was under a car today, instead of the motorcycle. You could barely see him from his position, the only telling feature being long legs sticking out from the front. 

Kirishima takes notice of you before you do him, calling out, “Mina’s already at work! Be sure to give her my love!” 

There’s a clank from the blonde working under him and a curse, followed by Bakugou rolling himself from under the car to send his friend a glare. It doesn’t last on Kirishima long, red eyes following his gaze only to settle on you with a scowl. You give a friendly wave that isn’t returned and put Kiro in his carseat. 

After buckling him in, you’re climbing in the front seat and starting the car, giving Kirishima and co (it’s really just Bakugou) one final wave goodbye before pulling out of the driveway and heading towards the daycare they way Mina explained. 

Take a left down the street, then a right at the stop sign. Keep going until you’re past Sato’s Bakery, and take a left at the very next light. You’ll see the mall, and right beside it is the building. There’s signs near the mall’s parking lot that direct you where to go from there.

She was good at giving directions, you learned, and the daycare was no more than fifteen minutes from your house. You sat in your car for a few minutes, nervously chewing at your lip. This would be the first time Kiro’s ever really… been away from you. Especially in a school-like setting. With other kids his age. But, you’d have to push through. You can’t teach him your whole life, and he won’t get the right social skills being around just you all day (plus, you’re sure you won't be able to work while also maintaining a five-year old-- you’d dote on him too much).  

“Why’re we here?” Kiro asks, already attempting to unbuckle his seatbelt. 

“This is a daycare,” you start to explain, “they’re gonna watch you for a few hours while I go out job hunting, and I’ll probably bring you here a few days a week while I work.” 

He made a face as you turned off the car and got out to properly unbuckle him, lifting him out of the seat and grabbing a bag you had packed and the paperwork you needed. Mina insisted on you bringing a change of clothes in case an ‘accident’ happened. She also let you know she may have sorta fibbed about her relationship with you-- the fib being you were her relative, a close cousin of sorts, and that’s why they’re allowing him in so early. 

“Why can’t I stay with you?” He mumbled, hand gripping your fingers as you walked across the parking lot. 

“I don’t think my job’ll allow that.” You squeezed his hand assuringly and gave him a smile, “You remember Mina?” A nod. “She’ll be a room or so down from you. If anything happens, you tell your teacher to tell Mina and she’ll call me A-S-A-P.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“As soon as possible. That sound good to you?” He seemed to weigh his options for a moment, but the doors were getting too close for him to back down. You gave him an offer, “we can have ice cream after I get you today.” 

“Deal.” 

Hook. Line. Sinker.

You held the door open for him and smiled at the woman behind the desk. “How can I help you?” 

“I’m Mina’s cousin.” You explained quickly, passing her the papers, “this is my little brother.” 

“Right! She told us about you yesterday. I’m Nejire Hado, I work here in the office.” She peeks over the desk to get a look at Kiro, who hides behind your legs, “we’ll just need you to sign a couple things in person and we can get you going to his class.” She gives him a small wave that he returns meekly. 

You spend the next thirty minutes filling out papers of basic information while Nejire gets to know you without prying too much. You’re glad she doesn’t really ask about you and Mina. Soon, you’re being led past the office doors and further into the building, Nejire explaining things like what time breakfast, lunch, and snack time is and that the latest you can be there to pick Kiro up is 6:00, on the dot. You’re stopped at a door with music notes taped all over, kid’s faces put over the bases. Kiro hides even further behind you, hands gripping your shirt like when you were first being introduced to Bakugou. 

Nejire walks in without knocking, peeking her head around the corner before throwing a smile behind her to the two of you and walking in further. Sitting in a circle are about eleven kids, a woman about your age with purple hair sitting between them and clapping along to ‘Wheels on the Bus’. 

Her eyes flicker to the three of you and she sends a smile, the song finishing itself and she instructs the kids to stay put and clap along to whatever plays next before she’s standing moving to greet you. She offers her hand. 

“Hi, I’m Jirou Kyoka, the teacher for the four and five year olds.” You shake her hand, then she moves to shake Kiro’s hand, who buries his face in your shirt. 

“I’m (l/n) (y/n). This is Kiro.” You feel him glance around you to look at her. 

She crouches down to his level and grins, “Have you ever been in a class with other students?” He shakes his head. She offers him her hand, “C’mon, we can introduce you to everyone, make some new friends, yeah?” 

He looks to you, seeking assurance, and you give it with a small nod and smile, “I’ll be back in a couple hours. Then ice cream.” 

The promise of ice cream gives him newfound courage, letting go of your shirt with less hesitance to take Jirou’s hand. You could cry. With a small tug, she’s pulling him towards the other students who look at him with raw curiosity. He glances to you one more time, and you give him a wave, before Nejire leads you out of the room. 

With that, you’re back at the front desk and Nejire hands you a card. It has Kiro’s student number and a barcode, and she explains anyone who picks Kiro up will need it in order to sign him out. You stick it in your wallet behind your ID as you leave. 

A few hours later, you’d gone to at least twelve places, asking if they were hiring and talking to managers. Most of the businesses were cafes or restaurants, and the majority explained they weren’t hiring at the moment, or had you fill out the application then and there, but were turned off by your schedule needing to be so specific. 

Your last hope was an older looking diner in the downtown area of the city. It looked fairly busy, people and cars alike coming to and from the parking lot. You pull in and find a parking spot, before taking a deep breath and getting out. You could do this. When you walked in, there was an older man standing at a host stand while organizing something. 

“How many?” he asks, not looking up. 

“Oh, I’m not here to eat.I was wondering if you guys were hiring.” 

He pauses, looking you up and down, “How early can you start?” 

“As soon as you’d let me.” 

He sets the papers down, rummaging through something else under the desk and hands you some papers, “Fill this out and bring it tomorrow. We can start training you after going over everything.” 

You take the papers with surprise, not expecting to be... hired (if you could call it that?) so quickly. 

“Thank you so much, what time should I come?” 

“Eight.” He gives you a smile and offers his hand, “I’m Chihiro Nand, the owner.” You take his hand. 

“(l/n) (y/n), I’ll be here at eight.” 

“I’ll be waiting to see you.” 

You leave with a pep in your step, excitement coursing through your veins. Life really seemed to be throwing you easy hits since your move. Maybe it really was for the better. 

———————————

{𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓼} @mrsreina @cold-deep-water @pm4gal 

[isnt-that-something]

NOT MY CHILD

So I was deeply inspired by an ask answered by @bigoltrashpile​ about what their Mafia boys would do if their child had been abused at the daycare they had been using (Ask here)and I was particularly taking with Noir and Scar’s reactions. I asked and @bigoltrashpile​ said it was alright if I wanted to flesh out the scene a little more. Here is what I imagined for Noir. I’ll try and do Scar tomorrow some time. It’s my first fic (does this count? I don’t know) so I hope I did ok. Let me know if I messed up something, it’s late and I’m tired but I HAD to type it out before it left me. XD Story below the cut so I’m not eating up anyone’s feed space. I hope you enjoy!

Noir strode through the daycare doors, his face a teeming thunder cloud of anger. The call he had received simply stated that he needed to come to the daycare immediately, so help him if he was getting pulled out of an important "meeting" for another silly conference over juice boxes (GET OVER IT LINDA, NOT EVERY CHILD WANTS APPLE JUICE, GRAPE IS AN OPTION) he was going to box someone. Shock roots him to floor of the entry way as he lays eyes on his child, who was red eyed from crying and one swelling shut from a nasty bruise already forming. Shock passed quickly back to anger stronger and fiercer than before. His long legs made short work of crossing the room to kneel by his child. He gently sweeps his leather gloves under their chin to inspect the injury, already bright purple and deepening by the second with a deep groove craved into their tender skin cutting into their flesh in harsh swipe. As he opens his mouth to ask what happened someone else entered the room and his child violently flinched out of his grasp breaking eye contact to stare tearfully at the floor. He whipped his head to face the new comer. Eyes narrowed as he recognized newest staff member that the center had hired in desperation when they were left abruptly shorthanded when two of their senior team members had gotten married the previous year and were now on maternity leave welcoming their own little one into the world. His first encounter with her was shortly after her hire at yet another parent staff meeting, her smile had grown taunt and her tone terse upon introductions and she seemed confused as to why a skeleton monster was there in attendance with a human child. After she'd seemed to find issue with everything he had suggested be done at the center. In this moment she looked down at the two and explained in a fake sickly sweet voice that she had no idea what had happened to Noir's child but suspected that perhaps the other children didn't like that they had a monster for a parent and that they child was a victim of bullying. "You know how children can be, especially to someone that just doesn't fit in." she said practically biting the last words out.

Noir rose to his full height and stared down at her, his frown deepening as she took an instinctive step back with distaste flashing across her face. Under his stony gaze she tittered nervously a hand raising to flick her hair behind her shoulder, a ring with a large gaudy stone catching the light, his child flinched violently behind him. His eyes flicked down once again taking in the injury. All this washed over him, coupled with the feeling of his child's trembling fingers clenching the back of his slacks, left absolutely no doubt in his mind exactly who had been bullying his child and why: monster hater. Fury quickly overtook Noir and he broke free of his child's grasp and he advanced quickly to the new aid. His wrathful expression caused her eyes to widen as she was struck dumb with the realization that she had well and truly F'ed up.

He harshly grabbed her arm and before she could think to utter even a single word of protest he had harshly wheeled them out the door and into an adjacent alley. Indignant stutters flew from her lips has she tried to shake free from his iron grasp.

"Let me go this instant! Just what do you think you're doing?!" she shrieked in a high pitched voice that ended in a violent huff as he whirled her none to gently against the brick wall that was nearly as cold and unforgiving as he felt.

"I THINK THE BETTER QUESTION IS WHAT YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING. HOW DARE YOU LAY YOUR HANDS ON A CHILD. AND MY CHILD AT THAT!" He spat in her face which quickly lost whatever color she had left in her placid face.

"I-I don't know-"

" LIKE HELL YOU DON'T!" his hand flashes our like a cobra striking taking her wrist and yanking it eye level, nearly yanking her off the ground in the process, the gaudy ring flashing in the waning sun light tarnished by a flecks of blood that she had clearly not managed to properly wash away before his arrival. His grip tightens on her wrist and she gasps in pain and fear as her eyes rest on the damning ring that his eyelights were fiercely burning with their focus. Her mouth opened again to try and plead with him only to be cut off has he once again flung her against the wall, with more force than before violently knocking the wind out of her as she fell to her knees.

"SAVE IT. I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME LISTENING TO THE MEWLING WHIMPERING OF A WORTHLESS CUR THAT WOULD HURT A CHILD THAT WAS LEFT IN THEIR CARE FOR SOMETHING AS PATHETIC AS SPECIESISM." Noir snarled as he glared down at the pitiful creature kneeling before him torn between wanting to settle this "properly" against his need to go in and tend to his child. As his instincts waged war in his mind her quivering form and tear filled eyes made him think of how his child must have looked before her when she dared raise he hand to them. With that in mind he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He removed his gloves and tucked them in his pockets before suddenly backhanding her across the face, the brutal crack echoed down the alley way as she collapsed to the ground. As she shakenly pushed herself off the ground blood dripped from the five slashes cut into her skin by his claw like phalanges, four long and deep with the fifth short and shallow. She flinched violently as he loomed closer grabbing her face to force her to meet his eyelights heated gaze.

"I Want You To Leave This City And Never Come Back. Consider This A Parting Lesson And Reminder, Never Lay Hands On A Child And Never Let Me See You Face Again. If I Do These Marks," he quietly sneered as he flicked his thumb over the open wounds roughly "Will Be Here." he moved hand to span her throat and grasped it harshly. "Now... Run" Noir growled deeply as he flung the woman towards the entrance of the alley and as soon as she regained her feet under her she took off running.

He pulled a napkin from his jacket and swiftly wiped his claws before putting his gloves back on and made his way back into the Daycare to care for his child. After caring to their wounds with the sites med kit and making several calls. One of which to the horrified owner of the establishment who rushed in to check on all of the children while trying to make arrangements to have a replacement aid hired as soon as possible. She apologized over and over about what had happened and was absolutely mortified that something like this had even happened. Noir helped calm her as she was genuinely upset. He gave her some contact information of some people that would know some more suitable replacements and even offered to stay to help watch the children so that she could interview that day. Butch nearly died of a SoulStroke when he came looking for Noir and to "see wat's takin so damn long" and he came walking in to the daycare to see Noir divested of his suit jacket and tie with tots of various ages clambered over his body as he attempted to read "The Tales of Fluffy Bunny" to the giggling hoard of kids.

As for the aid... she took Noir's words to heart. She ran down the road, across the street, clearing blocks as quick as her feet could take her. When they failed her she quickly hailed a cab and told them "Take me as far from this damn city as you can!!!". She finally settled in a city hundreds of miles away, she paid out the nose for people to collect all her belongings from her former home and bring them to her new one. She was never able to get a job in child care again as her previous employer made sure to tell everyone that she was an abuser and a monsterphobe to boot.

[cookinguptales]

I've a small query (if it doesn't float your boat, no worries!) I was interested in how you got into learning languages, what led you to it? I've become curious since learning a new language as an adult has only increased my awe of multilingual folk (additionally, I vaguely remember a post about a request in exchange for a donation to charity, and wondered if there were any you'd like a donation to)

First of all, good luck with the language learning! It’s not easy as an adult, but I do think it’s worth it, both in terms of cultural fluency and brain elasticity.

My answer to the language thing is actually extremely complicated, so I’ll be putting it under the cut. I’ll put the charity stuff above the cut so more people can see it.

— I’d just like to warn you, though, before I start, that I have been locked in this house for over a month with no respite and I HAVE A LOT OF WORDS AND FEELINGS IN ME SO THIS POST HAS SO MANY OF BOTH OF THOSE THINGS!!

anyway

There are so many charities that I want to donate to now that it honestly makes my head spin. Every time I look at a site like GoFundMe it kind of makes me want to cry. So a lot of donations I’ve made have been to like local businesses, restaurants, etc. who will close down without help. (Also a lot of local native groups, who are disproportionately suffering right now.) I’ve also been donating to various food banks — Philabundance, a Philly-centric charity that deals with food insecurity in general, is a good one. That was a regular of mine even before the outbreak. I’ve also donated to a lot of the local services in the small town where I’m in now, though you’ll need to PM me if you want the name of that. (It’s… very small.) 

Off Their Plate is another great charity that’s been working with small restaurants (who can’t open for business) to get food to first responders. They’re partnered with World Central Kitchen, which is another fantastic charity that helps out during disasters. Plus well-known ones like Feeding America, No Kid Hungry (important while school is out and kids aren’t getting breakfast/lunch there), Direct Relief, etc.

(I uhhh may have overstrained my charity budget the past couple months. It’s odd how that adds to stress and relieves it at the same time.)

I tend to avoid religious charities, especially Salvation Army, because they’re occasionally discriminatory in how they distribute resources and we no longer have laws & oversight to make sure they don’t do shady shit. So I just avoid them in general now. I also avoid the American Red Cross because they’ve been known to misuse funds. Research is key!

I also worry about some of my regular charities, like Immigration Equality & Rainbow Railroad (helps LGBTQ people in dangerous countries immigrate to less dangerous ones), the Native American Rights Fund, various local abortion funds, RAICES (provides legal services to immigrants & refugees), the ACLU, Dysautonomia International, the Rainforest Action Network, etc… A lot of them are getting fewer donations than they’re used to because we’re in the middle of such life-shattering events.

If you are really interested in making a donation (please, please, please do) those are all good options. I also fully recommend looking up needy organizations, services, people, etc. in your own area. I try to donate to a healthy mixture of national/international organizations, local needs, and temporary issues du jour. (Disaster relief, bail funds for protesters, fighting new discriminatory laws, etc.) I would genuinely appreciate any donations, especially if you find a cause near and dear to your heart that I would never even hear about. Anything along these same lines, y’know? If you have anything you’d like me to do in return, just hmu.

I constantly stress about who to donate to — there are so many good organizations and so few dollars to give them — but at a certain point, every dollar to a cause you believe in counts. Every dollar you donate helps to make the world a little bit better for at least one person. That’s what I have to tell myself to calm myself down, haha. So even the smallest donation you make to any of these groups would mean a lot to me.

Anyway, onto the language stuff:

For me personally, I grew up bilingual. Deafness runs in my family, so I learned sign language from a very young age. Note: I say “sign language” rather than ASL. I learned sign language kind of organically, which ended up making a mess later in life. My parents mostly taught me, but so did my daycare (at a deaf school) and so did my babysitters and so did other family members, etc. The point is, not all of them used the same sign language. There was a wide mixture of ASL, SEE, and home signs and my current signing style is… problematic. lmao. My family all understands it (hey, they taught it to me) and I can have conversations with American sign language users, but I know they can’t love my signing lmao. I’ve considered sitting down and taking a legit ASL class for years, but there are so many classes I want to take… I don’t know.

After that, it largely became a case of taking languages whenever they were made available to me. I’ve always liked them. We moved around a lot when I was a preteen so I went to a lot of different schools. (4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th grade were all different schools.) It was rough at home and hard to make friends so I guess I threw myself into academics a lot. My sixth grade school was an odd one; it was a 6-8 grade school and you were supposed to take a crash course in three different languages in sixth grade so you could choose one and take it in 7th and 8th grade. I ended up taking Spanish, French, and German that year. I liked French best! But then we moved so it was kind of moot. (And I hated German, sorry Germans. My mouth doesn’t like the noises. It didn’t help that my teacher was weirdly sympathetic to Nazi-era Germany…? But I guess that’s another post.)

When we moved to Florida, you had to have special permission to take language classes in 7th grade. (FL doesn’t have great academics.) But since I’d already had some Spanish in NC, they let me take it! And then I moved schools again. This new school, my 8th grade school, I’d be in until I graduated 12th grade years later — but the employee turnover at that school was almost comedically bad?  I took Spanish for like a year and a half there and had three different teachers. So at this point I’d had 5 different Spanish teachers, all from different countries (where they spoke slightly different Spanish!), all reteaching the same ideas over and over again because they didn’t know where the last teacher had left off. In the end, my last Spanish teacher sent me to the school library with some textbooks because he felt like I was very good at languages and he couldn’t adequately teach me in the environment he’d been thrown into. (My high school was very terrible. So he was right.)

SO I SWITCHED TO FRENCH. I took French for 3-4 years in high school (can’t remember when I started) but the same shit started happening. By the last year, my French teacher had the French I, II, III, and IV students IN THE SAME CLASS and she just put the advanced students in small groups and had us do independent study. Sigh… Around this same time, I started three other languages. At this point, I was getting kind of accustomed to self-study so I applied for a Latin class in the Florida Virtual School and took a year of that. I also spent a summer studying at the University of Chicago when I was 16-17 and learned Middle Egyptian then. (Yes, I was an ancient cultures nerd even back then.)

The Japanese has always been an odd case. Like I said, my 8-12 education was fairly terrible. They had this thing where they used a computer program to teach kids math and the teacher kind of taught along? When I transferred to the school in the middle of 8th grade, the teacher didn’t know what to do with me so he just plopped me in front of a computer and told me to do as much as I could. They started me in… Pre-Algebra, I think? Which I’d already taken in sixth grade. So I ended up getting through Pre-Algebra, Geometry, Algebra, and Algebra II, which… wasn’t in the teacher’s plans. I’d kind of finished several years of math in like a quarter. And then they didn’t have any more classes. So he just told me to like. Sit quietly and amuse myself for the last few months of school?? (Terrible, terrible school.) So I went to the library and found a book about Japanese and started teaching myself that. I really, really liked Japanese! Like it’s a language that just clicks really well with the way my brain works, I think. It’s very logical, I like the syllabary, etc. And I think growing up signing helped me with pictographic languages like Middle Egyptian and Japanese. My brain easily connects visual symbols with concepts.

When I went to college, the plan was honestly to learn more Egyptian and start translating, and I kept taking French to help me read old research in various ancient study fields. I ended up transferring out of the NELC major, though, due to some ethical problems… I guess that’s another post. Several years into my RELS/FOLK degree I went to my parents like. Look. I love learning this stuff but none of it’s useful. Remember how much I loved Japanese? Can I go back to learning that? I could translate that and that’s a legit skill. So I applied to a program through my school and studied in Japan for a while and ended up really doubling down on that language. Weird how I came back to it years later, but I guess it was always the one I loved best.

I have a mind that’s very pattern-based, so I guess I’ve always loved learning languages and the patterns behind them. (This may be why languages with a lot of rule exceptions, like French, irritate me.) They’re like puzzles that I’ve always enjoyed teasing out. Unfortunately, the way my education bounced around meant that I never got a good grounding in most of those languages, so I’ve largely lost them. I can still read French fairly well and my Japanese is good… My Spanish is like. Enough to get me around in the southern US. My German is abysmal. I remember very little Latin & Middle Egyptian. (It’s been over 10 years, I guess.)

So I guess what I feel the need to say to you is that if you don’t use it, you will lose it. I did well in all my language classes. They’ve always been fairly easy for me. Like. Straight As, no problem. I don’t say this to brag. I say it so you know that even for someone like me, whose brain is fairly well-wired for languages, it’s very, very difficult to retain languages when you’re not using them. If you’re not used to taking languages or you started late in life, it’s even harder. So even on the days you don’t want to practice! You gotta practice! Ganbare! Bon chance!

[thetravelerwrites]

Ironblood Interspecies Daycare

Rating: Teen Relationship: Male Orc x Female Human Additional Tags: Exophilia, Orc boyfriend, Daycare, POV First Person, First Person Perspective, Male Reader Content Warnings: Kids, Children, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Disowned Words: 5035

An orc running a daycare takes on a new employee and feels an immediate attraction to her, having to struggle with his own feelings of inadequacy to get close to her. Commission for @ban23​. 

The Traveler's Masterlist

You might think that running a daycare would be a weird job for an orc, but orcs are a clan-oriented people. Caring for and watching over the young is sort of ingrained in our nature. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

Of course, since my daycare is open to all species, we have quite a few kids. There are a lot of human-only care centers, orc-only, fae-only, and so on. They’re usually pricey and exclusive, so an interspecies daycare that takes lower income families was a boon to the community.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t take all the kids whose parents applied, which made me feel terrible. According to the law, there had to be one care worker per five children, and I only had four employees plus myself. I was hoping to expand, but I was having trouble finding more caregivers.

It wasn’t for a lack of wanting to pay more people, it was more a lack of experience. I didn’t hire weekend babysitters; I only hired people with professional experience in child care, whether it’s a degree or a teaching position or several years of homecare, like a nanny or au pair, accompanied with references that were nothing short of glowing. Just because these children came from poor families was no reason to think they deserved anything less than the best.

Thankfully, there was a new applicant with a degree in child psychology with a special focus on interspecies relations, and spent four years as a school counselor. She was also a registered nurse. She sounded perfect, and if hiring her meant we could take more kids, then that was all the better.

I had scheduled her interview after close of the business day, when all the kids had gone home. I always tried to be in the back when the parents arrived; some of the moms were… handsy.

After closing, the five of us gathered in the back area for coffee and so the others could grab their personal belongings to go home.

“Ms. Jones keeps asking if you’re single,” Jacob said as he grabbed his things from his personal cubby.

“Mrs. Peterson, too,” Said Emily, wrapping a scarf around her neck. “I swear she’s gonna start camping out near the front door to ambush you when you leave.”

“Please, Karen from the grocery store has been leaving notes with her weekly fees. I keep giving them to Jukah and he keeps throwing them away.”

“They’re wildly inappropriate and very graphic,” I said, sipping coffee and looking over invoices.

“Really? Oh, damn,” Jacob said. “If that’s the case, I’m going to keep them from now on, then. I’m not above living vicariously.”

“Why don’t you ask one of them out, Jukah? They’re clearly into you, and there’s no shortage of options,” Emily asked, putting on her coat. She was the only other person besides me who worked here that wasn’t human. She was a bright blue kobold with dark spikes along her jaw and two sets of horns. Her tail was smooth, however, and dragged the ground when she walked. She often let the smaller children ride on it to make them laugh.

“They’re too pushy,” I replied dismissively.

“I thought orcs liked pushy women,” She said.

“That’s a gross stereotype and you’re wrong for saying it,” You said playfully. “Different orcs have different tastes, just like everyone. I don’t push you toward every buff bodybuilder I see, do I?”

“Gross,” Emily said, her face scrunched up.

“See? Because I know you like skinny weirdos,” I told her, laughing.

She laughed too. “You’re right. I can’t even lie about it.”

“So what kind of woman do you like?” Esther asked me. She was the grandma of my employees, having been a pediatric nurse for decades and started working at the daycare because she refused to retire.

“Why are you people so interested in my love life all of a sudden?” I protested.

“Because it’s weird that all these women are literally throwing themselves at you and you’re not interested in even trying with one of them,” Kody said. Kody was non-binary and was a big help in teaching the kids to be respectful to each other.

“I keep my work life and my personal life separate,” I said simply. “End of story.”

To be honest, I really didn’t know why these women found me so appealing. By orc standards, I was considered extremely ugly. I’m about a foot and a half too short for an orc, and even though all orcs are born with a natural muscle tone, I was way too skinny. My tusks are too small, though that’s actually fine for my line of work. I even file down and cap them, just to be sure I don’t accidentally gore a kid when I pick them up. I don’t wear my hair long the way other orcs do, in braids or plaits; I keep it short so the kids can’t pull on it. I even catch flack because of my eye color, a flat turquoise, which is exceedingly rare among orcs.

It wasn’t just my looks that made me unusual among my people. I’d grown up in a typical stronghold, but I’m quiet, introverted, and self-conscious. I’ve never felt the same sort of personal pride that other orcs feel in being an orc. I don’t hunt or fight or spend my time in other typical orcish pursuits. Timidness and a lack hubris are seen as personality defects for my people. In the eyes of other orcs, I might as well be human, and that’s in no way a compliment.

My only redeeming features were my skin, which was the deep, dark forest green found most attractive among my kind, and my natural ability and instinct to care for and teach the young, which is a high priority in orcish culture. That’s probably the only reason I wasn’t thrown out before I came of age. When I was old enough, however, I left the stronghold with no intent to return, and I’ve never regretted that decision.

So, these womens’ attention, especially the more aggressive ones, is baffling to me. I’m nothing special, in fact, I’m downright substandard, so this new-found attention was jarring.

“Just think about it, man,” Emily said. “You’re a nice guy. It’s a shame for you to be alone.”

“Guys, seriously, stop worrying about me. I don’t need to have a girlfriend to be happy. Now git,” I said, waving my hands. “I have an interview to conduct in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kody said. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

I shooed them out and started cleaning up the play area. I enjoyed the time alone in the daycare after work. It gave me time to think about ways of improving the atmosphere for the kids. It was always good to have new things for them to do or they’d get bored and tear the place apart.

I heard the front door open as I was stacking tiny chairs and a voice say, “Hi. Are you Jukah Ironblood?”

“Yes, I am. Can I help you?” I called over my shoulder without turning.

“I’m Briauna Ramos, I’m here for the interview.”

“Oh!” I said more animatedly. “Of course, come in, I’ll be right with you, let me just finish up here.”

“No hurry,” She said pleasantly, closing the door.

I picked up the last of the chairs, stacked them, and turned. And stopped in my tracks.

The woman standing patiently at the door with a expectant smile on her face was petite with thick thighs and a cute little belly, wearing a flowing yellow top with black jean leggings that did nothing to hide these features. Her skin was a deep brown and her amber-colored eyes were wide, framed in long, black lashes. Her hair was silky, wavy, a little fluffy, and fell to her shoulders. She wore a small barrette in the shape of a bee to keep it out of her eyes.

She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my entire goddamn life.

“Something wrong?” She asked, her eyebrows drawing together in concern.

I realized I’d been standing with my mouth open for about a solid minute and shut it so quickly that my teeth clicked.

“No, sorry, um… please,” I said, gesturing at the door to my office. Once there, I sat at my desk and motioned for her to take the chair on the opposite side. She lay her coat over the back and sat down, pressing her her cold fingers together and putting them between her thighs to warm them. I tried my best not to stare at her thighs. I wanted to put my own hands between them and feel how warm…

I mentally slapped myself back into reality. Stop it.

Her application was on the desk in front of me, and I riffled through the papers for a moment to collect my thoughts.

“You come highly recommended,” I said, attempting to keep my voice even. “Your references and credentials are incredible.”

“Thanks,” She said. “I’ve wanted to work in childcare my whole life. Working at the school was okay, but I actually didn’t have all that much to do. Most kids who need a counseling are already in therapy, and there wasn’t much need for a nurse most of the time, so I spent hours in my office with nothing to do. I want to work more directly with children. This daycare seems like a perfect place, especially since it caters to lower income families. They deserve the same degree of care as private facilities.”

I felt myself smile. “I completely agree. That’s why I only hire the best. And you’re pretty close to perfect for this job.”

She smiled with her whole face, and I found it hard to breathe. “Thanks. I’ve applied at a few places, but I like this place the most. The facility is large and clean, and the list of activities for the kids is diverse and stimulating. You seem like you really care about kids.”

“I do,” I said. “Providing a safe environment for them is my first priority.” I looked through her papers again. “We have a former nurse on our staff, but she’s no longer practicing, so your nursing status is great. We get all kinds of bumps and scrapes here.”

“I can imagine,” She laughed.

“Well,” I said with a tired sigh. “I’m satisfied with your experience and I think you’d be a good fit here. When would you like to start?”

“Well, I just moved to the area, and I’m getting my apartment unpacked. How about Monday?”

I nodded. “Sounds good to me.” I stood and held out my hand for a handshake. “Welcome to the team.”

She took my hand, shaking firmly, and it was like an electric shock passed from her into me, making my whole body tingle. I gulped and tried to keep my professional demeanor in place.

“Great, I can’t wait to start,” She said enthusiastically as she pulled her hand away and threw her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, Mr. Ironblood.”

“Oh, just Jukah, please. Formality goes out the window pretty quick in this place,” I said, laughing.

She laughed with me. I could listen to that laugh all day.

“Thanks again,” She said, and left. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help sneaking a peek at her ample rear as she walked away. I said down heavily at my desk and tried to calm myself.

Well, shit. So much for keeping my personal and professional lives separate.

She arrived early on Monday morning, before the others got in, and you had a few minutes to show her around.

“This is your personal cubby,” I told her, showing her a cubby on the lower shelf. “You can keep your phone with you in the common area, but try to use it as little as possible. If you have to take a phone call, either come back here or go outside.”

“Gotcha,” She said. She was wearing a powder blue sundress and darker blue leggings with her hair in a tight, fluffy ponytail two tendrils of hair hanging on either side of her face. She looked adorable.

The others wandered in shortly after the two of us put our things away and I introduced all of them. They greeted her politely and engaged her in light conversation, asking where she was from and how she was liking town so far, as they started on the coffee and pastries I brought in for them every day.

I had about fifteen minutes before the daycare opened, so I went to the waitlist to notify the families at the top that I could take them. A couple of people had already found accommodations, but the ones who hadn’t were overjoyed, two of them even asking if they could fill out the intake paperwork that day.

A paper plate with a pastry and a cup of coffee was placed in front of me. I looked up, and Briauna winked and smiled at me before returning to the back room.

Oh, god. This was bad. Love at first sight doesn’t exist, I told myself. She’s pretty and sweet, sure, but this is just an infatuation. Don’t even think about it. Didn’t you just tell your team that you didn’t need a girlfriend to be happy? Besides, dating a co-worker is always a bad idea. She probably wouldn’t be into you, anyway. Just get a grip and let it go.

The children began arriving, and I was out front to greet them, dodging the over-eager mothers as best I could. Kody, Emily, Jacob, Esther, and Briauna came out of the back when they heard the children’s voices. They quickly fell into their roles, including Briauna, helping the kids take off their jackets and instructing them to put their shoes and lunches in their cubbies.

I’d say only a third of the kids were human. The rest were a mix of orcs, fae, beast creatures, and even a little half-demon girl. Most of the children were between the ages of two and five, though we did have a couple that were under two years old, and they were mostly Esther’s responsibility. She was the best at handling the babies.

“Okay, little ones, sit in the circle and play the quiet game for a minute,” I said to the group, and they scrambled to find a spot in the big, red sitting circle in the middle of the room. “We’ve got a brand new friend who’s going to be helping us out from now on. Her name is Briauna.”

Briauna waved at them and said, “Nice to meet you!”

“I want you guys to be nice to her,” I continued, “And stay on your very best behavior, okay?”

“Yes, Kah-Kah,” said the chorus of little voices.

“Kah-Kah?” Briauna asked in an undertone. “That must go over well with the Spanish-speaking parents.”

I grinned. “We’ve all got nicknames. Emily is Emmy, Jacob is Jay-Jay, Esther is Essa, and Kody… well, Kody doesn’t have a nickname, but theirs is easy to pronounce, even for the littler ones. Just wait, I’m sure you’ll have your own by the end of the day.”

Sure enough, the children had started calling Briauna Na-Na by lunchtime.

“Told you,” I said as we began laying them down for their afternoon naps. She grinned at me with the tip of her tongue between her teeth. I felt like slapping myself after wondering what that tongue might feel like on mine.

Naptime was when we took lunch. One of us was assigned to sit with the kids as they slept so that the others could eat, and there was a rotating schedule. Today was Kody’s day. I made a note to add Briauna to the schedule later.

“So, how was your first day?” I asked her over my club sandwich.

“Amazing,” She said. “It’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Yeah, the kids are great,” Emily said. “They almost make the pay worth it.” She grinned and stuck her forked tongue out of me. I reached out and whacked her spiny shoulder lightly.

“I wish I could pay all of you more,” I said a little regretfully. “We’re applying for low income care grant for businesses that involve children, and when the grant comes through, I’m hoping I can give you all bonuses.”

“Bonuses,” Jacob, Emily, and Esther all said in unison, like zombies.

Briauna shook her head and laughed softly. “Honestly, I don’t care about the money. Today was probably the best day of my professional career. If I didn’t need to eat, I’d do it for free. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. Kids deserve a good start, no matter who or what they are, or where they come from. I’m so happy to help do that for them.”

I stared at her in an awed silence, feeling as if my heart had taken up all the space in my chest, leaving no room for my lungs. There was no point in lying to myself anymore: I was head over heels in love with this woman.

I forced myself to look away from her, and ended up glancing at my other three co-workers, who had sudden knowing smirks on their faces. I scowled at them and lowered my eyes, eating to occupy my mouth so I wouldn’t have to answer questions.

Walking home that evening, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew myself well enough to know I’d never have the courage to just ask her out. I’ve never been that confident. All of my exes had asked me out, not the other way around. I thought about having someone ask her out for me, but I shook the thought out of my head with a grimace. This wasn’t high school. I was a goddamn adult and running my own business. I should be able to ask her out without a buffer.

Thinking that was easy, doing it was another thing entirely.

As I passed a novelty store, I stopped and looked in the window. There was a very tiny stuffed deer sitting in a little gift bag with chocolates cookies.

I stood there, staring at the stuffed deer. In the old days, orcs wanting to charm a mate would go through a courting ritual which usually involved hunting large game, like bears and deer and the like. I definitely wasn’t the hunting type, but… the point was to show your adoration through gifts, to show what you can provide for your mate. I certainly didn’t intend to leave dead animal on her doorstep, but I did want to offer her affection and companionship.

I ducked into the novelty store and bought the gift bag without really thinking about it. And now that I had it, I had no idea how to present it to her. I couldn’t just give it to her during work in front of the others; I was too self-conscious. I hadn’t seen her anywhere outside of work, so I couldn’t “accidentally” bump into her someplace else. I wasn’t going to show up at her house unannounced like a goddamn creep. I sighed, hoping I’d figure it out.

The next day, I was sure to get in before everyone else and hide the gift in my desk. As it happened, that day was my day to sit with the children during naptime. After the kids were sleeping and everyone went into the back room for lunch, I snuck quietly into my office, retrieved the gift, and slipped it into one of Briauna’s coat pockets.

After naptime, Briauna took out a book she’d brought from her own home and had all the little ones sitting in a semi-circle around her. She was naturally gifted at holding their attention. Well, not just theirs. I couldn’t stop staring at her.

I had put a high precedent on early education, so lessons on shapes, colors, numbers, and letters were a weekly thing. Not enough that it overloaded their still developing brains, but just enough to keep them engaged and help them retain the knowledge. We often did a flash card game with a points system, and the winner got a reward from the toy chest.

“You’re going to scare the kids if you keep making faces at Briauna like that,” Kody told me as they looked over the children’s worksheets.

I scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

Kody gave me a deadpan look. “Come on, man. I’m not blind. You’ve been staring at her all day. Hell, you practically drool. You’re really going to act like you’re not attracted to her?”

“Just drop it.”

Kody raised their hands in surrender, their eyebrows shooting up to their hairline. “Fine, fine.” They shook their head at you. “You’re a hot mess, you know that?”

“I’m more than aware, thank you,” I told them. Again, they shook their head and wandered off to set out the art supplies for creative time.

They rest of the day passed without incident. Briauna pulled on her coat without checking her pockets. I watched her with my heart in my throat as she left with the others. Kody shot me a meaningful look before following her out of the door.

The next morning, she came in with the giftbag in her hand.

“Who left this in my coat?” She asked.

“That was in your coat?” Emily said. “There’s no note or anything?”

“No, I found it in my pocket when I got home,” She said. “I thought maybe one of the kids put it in there, but the price tag on the bottom said it was, like, twenty bucks, and I don’t think toddlers keep that kind of cash on them.”

I winced internally. I’ll have to remember to take the tag off next time. I’d never done this before, so some mistakes were bound to happen. I’d have to be more careful in the future.

“So, which one of you gave me this? Jacob?”

Jacob snorted. “Girl, you cute and all, but I’m gay as the day is long. It was one of them,” He said, gesturing at the rest of us.

“Not me,” Kody, Esther, and Emily said in unison.

“What about you, Boss?” Emily asked.

I tried my best to look affronted. “Please, I spend enough money on coffee and donuts for you losers every day.”

“So, none of you are going to own up to this?” Briauna said. “Really?”

“Hell, maybe it was one of the kids, you don’t know,” Emily said.

Briauna rolled her eyes. “You guys are impossible.”

“You like it,” Kody said, grinning.

Two days later, a teddy bear and some caramels found their way into her pockets. A week after that, there was a stuffed tiger and gourmet hard candies.

On her day to sit with the kids at naptime, I brought her a coffee, and she whispered, “Who do you think is leaving me the presents?”

“Dunno,” I said. “Could be any of them, really. Well, except Jacob.”

“Not you, though,” She asked shrewdly.

“I’m your boss,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”

“I guess,” She said, shrugging. “But I thought you said formalities went out the window here.”

I gulped my heart down. Thankfully for my slowly crumbling facade of professionalism, the soft bell that alerted the end of naptime went off, and it was time to get the kids up for afternoon playtime outside.

That evening, while I was alone in my office, I was going through this months invoices while also looking at edible fruit and chocolate arrangements on my phone, when I saw my office door open. Kody stood there, leaning on the doorframe with their arms crossed.

Putting my phone face down and fixing a neutral expression on my face, I said, “What’s up?”

“Dude, do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?” They said.

“I’m filing invoices,” I said.

“Come on, man, you know what I’m talking about. I know you’re the one leaving Briauna the gifts. Esther’s married, I’m asexual, and Briauna’s not Emily’s type. It has to be you. You’re not that slick.”

I sighed. I knew they’d caught me. “Are you going to tell Briauna?”

“No,” They said. “You are.”

“I can’t,” I said, scrubbing my face with my hands.

“And why not?”

“A lot of reasons,” I replied, reclining in my chair.

“Name one,” They said.

“I’m… weird.”

Kody laughed. “We’re all weird, Jukah.”

“It’s...” You sighed. “I doubt she’d even be into me. I’ve got… a lot of baggage, and not everyone is strong enough or willing to carry it with me. Trust me, I know. Every girlfriend I’ve had has seemed to buckle under the weight.”

“So you’re saying she’s not enough for you?”

“No!” I retorted, sitting up. “I’m saying I’m not enough for her. This place,” I gestured at the walls. “It’s all I’ve got. I’ve got no family, no friends besides my co-workers, no life outside of my work. Hell, I don’t even have my health. I’m a shit excuse for an orc. I mean, I’m too damn shy to ask a girl out. What does that tell you?”

“Maybe she likes shy guys,” Kody argued.

“Orcs aren’t supposed to be shy,” I said with a scowl.

Kody sighed in frustration. “Why are you so obsessed with what orcs are ‘supposed’ to be like?”

“You don’t understand, Kody,” I said with a return sigh. “I grew up in a stronghold, a traditional one. The pressure they put upon us to be the best orc possible was suffocating. I wasn’t the only one who who had to deal with it, but I was the only one who couldn’t live up to the expectation, the only one who didn’t grow up into the orc I should have been, and that has severe repercussions in orc communities. I was my stronghold’s biggest shame. None of my family speaks to me. My clan won’t even acknowledge my existence anymore; I’ve literally been erased from the book of clan lineages.”

“Dude… I do get it,” Kody said. “When I told my family that I was non-binary, asexual, wasn’t planning on having kids, wasn’t a Christian, and had no intention of taking over their business, they fucking lost it. I was their only kid and they had placed all their expectations for the future on me without asking me how I felt about it. They kicked me out, cut off my tuition, wrote me out of their will, refused to see me or take my calls. I went from working on a degree in medicine to living on a park bench. You were the one who gave me a chance. You gave all of us a chance.” They came in and laid a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t really give a shit what other orcs think of you, and you shouldn’t either. You’re worth so much more than they’d want you to believe.”

“Thanks, Kody,” I said. “It’s hard to undo an entire lifetime of being told you’re not enough.”

“I know,” They replied. “But do you really think Briauna is the kind of person who would think that? And if you do, why would you want to be with someone who does?”

“I don’t think she’s like that,” I said. “That’s one of the reasons I like her.”

“Then ask her out.”

I sighed sharply and ducked my head. “What if she says no and things are awkward, and she decides it’s too weird to work here? I’d have to kick out all the new kids we just took in,” I shook my head, resolved “I can’t do that. The kids come first.”

Kody groaned and rolled their eyes. “God, you are insufferable!” They walked to the door and leaned out. “Would you please come in here and put him out of my misery?”

To my complete shock and horror, Briauna walked in with a sheepish smile on her face.

I stared at Kody in disbelief. “Wow… you are… just… so fired.”

“Please, you need me,” They said, backing out of the room. “I’m basically your conscience.”

“You are the exact opposite of that thing.”

They laughed as they made to exit the building. “You kids have fun.”

Briauna stood there with one of the stuffed animals in her hands. “So it was you, then?”

I stood up and raked my hands through my hair. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It was sweet. A little creepy, but mostly sweet.”

I snorted. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy. I just wanted to get your attention.”

“Well, it worked.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little stuffed bunny, something I hadn’t given her, and held it out to me. “Would this be enough to get your attention?”

I laughed and took it. “Yeah. And… maybe… dinner when you’re free?”

“I’m free now,” She said. “And there’s a curry place I’ve been dying to try since I moved here, but I’ve never had the chance to go.”

“That sounds perfect,” I said, grabbing my coat.

“Kody’s right, you know,” She said as I opened the door for her, stepping out into the chilly winter evening. “You shouldn’t care what people think about you. Well, except for me.”

“And what do you think about me?” I asked her.

She put her arm around my waist. “I think you’re really cute. I did the day we met. I was hoping the gift giver was you. And I think shy guys are adorable.” She lay her head on my chest. She was a short little thing. “I’m also hoping you won’t be too shy to kiss me goodnight.

I put my arm around her shoulder in return and lifted her face with my other hand. I kissed her softly and she pressed into it, parting her lips as if asking for more. My tongue reach out to toy with hers, and she moaned into my mouth. I pulled away, licking my lips.

“Dinner first,” I said, smiling.

She snorted. “You might regret that. It is curry.”

“I’ll take my chances,” I said, leading her down the street.

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[tessatechaitea]

Star Trek: The Next Generation, S1, E8: "The Battle"

Depending on who you ask, the United States public school system is a huge waste of time, a factory to teach kids how to live life as factory workers, free daycare, a temple to learning, or a place to socialize future citizens. But I know what it really is and it's less cynical than you might expect from me. Sure, I could have been super jaded about the public school system but I was lucky and went to a Satanic elementary school (if you're curious, just search the blog for "Haman" or "Satanic elementary school" or "AC/DC"), so I had a love of learning about the Devil from an early age. Anyway, I believe the public school system (and while I can only truly speak to the United States' version, I'm going to assume it's very much the same concept across other nations and cultures) was the easiest solution to keeping civilization advancing. That probably sounds obvious and you're already in the comment section typing up responses such as "Like, DOI!" and "What a stunning reveleation /sarcasm" and "ur trash 1v1 me". (Believe me, the only correct way to end that sentence was with the punctuation outside of the quotes.) Listen, I get it! It's a simple concept! But in our modern times when it seems like half of the country thinks education corrupts the youth (which, if you went to Haman Elementary in Santa Clara, California, it certainly fucking did. Long live my Lord and Master!), sometimes simple truths need to be beat like a living horse (that's what the phrase "No use in beating a dead horse" means, right? It means there is use in beating a living horse and we should beat them more. Right?). Or did I mean beat like a drum? You know what? Sometimes I wish I learned more than ritual summonings and secret hand gestures. What I'm trying to say and which I won't make any clearer with this next statement is that the public school system was the best version of throwing shit at the wall to see what sticks. In this analogy, "shit" is "knowledge" and "wall" is "children." Because the only way to advance civilization and continue to make things better for everybody is to make sure young people are caught up on the story. Sure, a lot of them (and I should probably say "a lot of us" because look at me as an adult: writing a blog about comic books and Star Trek) won't take up the torch to help advance civilization. But that's the thing. You don't know which kid is going to make the connections to establish the next thing that helps civilization mature. At the very least, you know that if you don't throw shit at children, they're never going to have the opportunity to understand exactly where they are in civilization's timeline and how they can make it better going forward. Also, can we sometimes just throw real shit at children because now that idea is in my head and it's not going anywhere? If we break this system, we are accepting eventual stagnation and a probable decline in the overall levels of satisfaction with life. And as we can see in our modern times, a growing percentage of unimaginative dullards don't fucking care about progress. Education teaches their kids that their parents were unimaginative dullards and so those unimaginative dullards would rather destroy the educational system than maybe look inward and try not to be an unimaginative dullard. And let's not forget about the people who want to destroy the system simply because it uplifts everybody and not just the people who look like they do. Obviously the public school system doesn't present enough material to create an adult that will truly help drive humanity's balls through civilization's goalposts (help me. I think I have some kind of sickness that makes me speak in analogies, sort of like Lyme Disease but if I were bitten by a conservative talking head). The public school system is just to fire the curiosity of the children so they'll strive to become more educated on their own. And at one time, college was the perfect way to specialize and really get in-depth on the things which really held the child's interest. But, once again, a certain section of the population viewed higher education as a slippery slope to being a decent person and so they've demonized it. One way to make a higher education less possible was to make it less affordable. Although making college less accessible was probably a backlash to college students protesting the government's participation in certain wars which made the government say, "Where are we going to get all the young dead people we'll need for future wars? I mean, they'll only be dead after! We're not into necromancy. Not everybody went to Haman Elementary." Free or affordable college just gives less privileged young people more options than the ones people who don't want things to change want them to have. After all, job providers aren't really as good at providing jobs as they seem to want everybody to think they are. So they need a system which forces people into debt, or convinces them to saddle themselves with a huge mortgage, or hypnotizes them into thinking children are great things to have in their lives so that they'll always need the shitty job they have to pay for their tiny sentient wells where money is thrown. I wish I was more coherent and less digressive than I am so I could get my point across. But this sometimes happens after I've read two or three comic books by Ann Nocenti. Let me just take a moment to cleanse my aura and I'll try to be more succinct. "Master Satan, please direct my aggression and blood lust into a fine focal point as sharp as the tip of the Lance of Longinus so that I may do your bidding to corrupt His lost lambs and bring them to the beastly reality of this cum-stained world. Thank you my Father. I count the days until I will be welcomed into your embrace of unholy fornication." In summation, education can only be attained by stacking one block upon the other. You need a system which both teaches the basics of how we got to where we are and also weeds out those that don't fucking give a shit about climbing the pyramid of blocks that's already there to add more to the top. Some people are meant to simply take care of the foundational blocks. Some people will climb partway up and improve the blocks in the middle. But you need a system to find the people who will craft the blocks for the future top of the pyramid. And as an added benefit, the higher one climbs, the better a person they generally become. Sure, you still have many climbers who only see profit in the journey. But some of them do their part as well (granted, not a lot of them. Most of them just want to find a way to keep all the blocks for themselves and establish a toll gate halfway up the pyramid and then convince everybody that the toll gate has always been there and it was never a free climb at all). And you also have people who consider the education gained as a simple corruption of the soul. But fuck those people. They pretend the pyramid doesn't even exist and only want to tear it down anyway. Now imagine how big this pyramid must be in the 24th Century! It's so big that it allows people to pursue whatever they want to pursue without being shackled to a daily grind just to pay bills. Fucking imagine that, right?! A civilization so prosperous and educated about the nature of reality that nobody in the system feels compelled to force other people to throw their lives away so those people can earn somebody else another buck. What a healthy civilization! Now imagine that civilization butting heads with our 21st Century reality. Imagine how much we'd despise those 24th Century bastards! Don't they care about making another buck?! What are they thinking?! I bet it would end up in a battle just like "The Battle" in this episode! Yes, we are the Ferengi. And, yes, I'm probably not going to say much about this episode. Picard gets mind-controlled by capitalism and almost destroys socialism. But he doesn't and the Ferengi learn a lesson about greed sometimes being bad which is a really hard lesson for them to swallow due to their big ears (because when they swallow I imagine their ears pop a lot?). The main thing I learned from this episode is that every great starship captain in the Federation has a tactical maneuver named after them. If you haven't come up with a new innovation for space battles, you're a piece of shit not worthy to captain a Starfleet vessel. And that's all I have to say about that.

[mel-is-a-melon]

Until Death Do Us Part

Warnings: Death

Pairing(s): Logicality

Tagged: @freepaperie081, @wilford-woofstache

Summary: Patton is in the hospital due to heart complications, and Logan is refusing to leave his side until he can come home.

Apologies for any medical inaccuracies or OOC writing. Anything incorrect was probably made the way it was for drama or something I just missed.

“Any improvements?”

The nurse looks up from where she was changing the young man’s IV tube to see his boyfriend staring at her with pleading eyes. She sighed mentally.

The man in the hospital bed (Patton, she believed his name was, and a quick glance at his chart confirmed it) had been admitted with severe arrhythmia. Apparently, he’d had a mild case of it for most of his life, but he’d gotten dizzy a few nights ago and collapsed, leading to his current hospitalization.

Though it seemed like a routine case that should be brought back to normal within another day of medications, Patton’s boyfriend had been frantic the entire time. He fired off questions at every person who came through the door and insisted on double checking everything for himself (she loathed to scream at him that while he might had a doctorate in astronomy, as he had mentioned numerous times, he was not a medical doctor and so should leave this to professionals).

The only times he could be shut up was when Patton was awake. He would softly chuckle and tell his partner to “leave them be, Logan, honey, they know what they’re doing”. But at the moment, he was getting some much needed rest, and she was left with Logan looking at her like she held the answers to all the universe’s questions. If she did, she would have told him long ago just to wash her hands of his endless line of questioning.

“As I told you an hour ago, he is slowly improving with the help of the treatments we set up for him. Should he continue to improve, he will be permitted to leave tomorrow and warned to avoid strenuous activity for a month and to return if any complications arise. I have no new information for you, and I swear I will let you know as soon as I do.”

With that, she left, eager to get in a bit of a break before returning to work. Why had she picked up another twelve hour shift again?

Logan turned to Patton, a red flush covering his cheeks from the nurse’s sharp, reprimanding tone. He hadn’t meant to be so troublesome to the people trying to help Patton, but he was worried. A lot more than he should be.

When they had started dating five years ago, Patton had been totally honest with him about everything, from past partners to family life, and especially about his health. Logan had taken it in stride, avoiding stress-inducing situations in favor of nights in on the couch watching Big Hero 6 or the like and holding his hands throughout all the checkups and hospitalizations like these. And even though this had happened in the past, Logan still felt a sense of dread that he hadn’t felt in any of the other occasions.

He took a deep breath trying to stabilize himself.

“Gee, teach, no need to breathe so deep. You’re already full of hot air.”

He turned to see Patton smiling tiredly at him and squeezed his hand in return.

“Says the man who will brag for hours about how his daycare kids are doing.” Despite his teasing words, Logan’s smile stretched across his face.

“They grow so fast!” Patton protested indignantly.

Logan shook his head.

“Logan...” Patton’s voice had taken on a tone of seriousness. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

Logan’s silence said it all.

Patton frowned. “You have to take care yourself, You’re always on me to do it!”

Logan opened his mouth to resist, but Patton interrupted. “I’m not talking to you until you get something to eat.”

“Patton...”

He simply turned away, not even bothering to look at Logan.

Logan groaned, loath to leave Patton, but knowing it was the only way to get him to relent. “Fine. I’ll get a sandwich from the cafeteria. Happy?”

Patton rolled back over to reveal a bright, sunny smile. “Yep!”

Logan simply chuckled, dropping a kiss on Patton’s forehead. “I’ll see you soon, Angel.”

“Later, gator!” Patton laughed.

Logan walked out the door, determined to make this the fastest trip ever.

The universe, however, was determined to thwart him. First of all, the cafeteria was at the other end of the hospital, meaning a lot of time was spent waiting for an elevator and then walking the entire length of the building. It didn’t get any better on arrival, either. As it was apparently dinnertime (Logan hadn’t even noticed the time passing by, his eyes so glued to Patton he didn’t even look at the clock), the line for food stretched out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. Logan simply resigned himself to his fate, getting in line.

He was in the middle of calculating how long it would take to reach the front of the line if each person took on average a minute and a half to order and receive their food (as way too many reached the front and only then decided to check out the options) when that niggling sense of doubt returned in a much stronger force, speeding his heart rate and making his breaths come quickly.

He closed his eyes, remembering what he would tell his friend Virgil when he had one of these episodes. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In for four seconds, hold for seven, out for eight.

Come on Logan, there’s nothing to be scared of. The doctors and nurses here know what they’re doing and will take good care of Patton. They already told you he was fine, that he’s coming home tomorrow.

By the time he reached the front of the line, he’d calmed down enough to order his ham and cheese sandwich and head back to Patton.

When he exited the elevator, he could tell something was wrong. Nurses were flying out of the surrounding rooms, all headed towards the end of the hall yelling out medical instructions he didn’t understand. He and the other visitors were being asked to go back down to the lobby. He complied only after trying to get to Patton’s room and being given a death glare by one of the scarier nurses.

Sitting in the lobby, he tried to distract himself by opening up his phone and looking through some files from work. Even though their new tour for middle schoolers was the most fun project he’d worked on in months, all he could think was about how he’d told Patton about it yesterday and the two of them had pitched ideas at each other for hours, growing more and more excited until a nurse came to tell them to calm down.

You’ll get to do that again. You’ll be able to go talk to Patton soon. They’re just going to call over the friends and family of the person who was in danger and tell them what happened and let everyone else go back upstairs. See, here comes the doctor for that floor now, about to call over-

“Friends and family of Patton Sanders?”

No.

Logan stood on shaking legs, barely aware of walking over to the doctor with the gentle face that warned of bad news to come. Buzzing overtook his ears, blocking out most of what the doctor was saying. He just barely managed to make out “sudden cardiac death...usually no symptoms...was asleep...didn’t hurt...sorry for your loss...”

Logan offered no response, simply turning around and returning to his seat. The doctor gave him a sad smile, then started escorting the rest of the visitors upstairs, leaving Logan alone in the lobby. Alone with his thoughts.

Logan reached into his bag with a trembling hand and pulled out a soft, velvet box. He opened it, eyes shining as he looked at the ring he had taken so long to pick out.

He was supposed to give it to Patton tomorrow, when they got home. Surprise him at the moment he least expected it, when he was preoccupied greeting their golden lab Thomas. He was going to attempt to give a romantic, from-the-heart speech (which had taken him three weeks to write) but most likely would have been interrupted by a squealing Patton saying yes before he could even get a word out.

They were supposed to get married on a summer’s evening, like they’d planned. They would hold the ceremony in an open field, the lights around them dim enough so they could see the stars slowly start to replace the sun in the sky. Patton was going to try and teach Thomas to carry the rings down the aisle, and Logan was going to agree to let him and ask his brother Roman if his kid would be prepared to do it on the side.

They were supposed to be a family. They were going to adopt, something that had taken Logan a long time to even consider. They were going to spoil their kid to death, Logan helping them with homework and Patton cooking their favorite foods for every meal, taking them on trips to Disney World, teaching them all they could about the wonderful world they lived in.

They were supposed to grow old together, retiring to some place on the beach so they could go stargazing every night, Logan pointing out the constellations with a wrinkled hand and Patton smiling at him with the light of the sun in his eyes.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Logan got up and walked out the door, stopping only to throw out the box and, after a thought, the sandwich. He wasn’t really that hungry anymore.

[picardonhealth]

Are public washrooms safe?

Answering your questions on masks, testing and COVID-19 pandemic social etiquette. The Globe and Mail’s health columnist, André Picard, will answer readers’ questions during an Instagram 

Monday, June 08, 2020

As Canada enters its third month of physical distancing during the COVID-19 pandemic, there is some confusion about what’s acceptable right now – especially as different parts of Canada are at different stages of the recovery from the first wave. Should you be wearing a mask at all times when outside your home? How effective are masks anyway? What about for my kid?

André Picard, health columnist at The Globe and Madeleine White, senior audience editor tackled these questions and more.

Masks: What are the options?

Madeleine: Let’s start by going through the different kinds of masks that are available to everyday Canadians.

André Picard: Practically, people should be wearing cloth masks because they’re easy to make. People can use medical masks, the paper ones a lot of stores are handing out. But they have a short shelf life. If they get wet, they’re not of use. Becoming much more popular are plastic shields. The big advantage is for people who have hearing problems, you can see other’s lips, and they’re a little more comfortable.

In both cases it’s really important that you wear them properly. Whether you wear a mask or a shield, you have to wear it properly and cover anything where the virus can enter your mouth, your nose, your eyes – and that’s the advantage of shields.

Reusable masks

Madeleine: How reusable are cloth face masks?

André: That’s the benefit: you just wash them. You should have a few [cloth face masks]. If you’re out for the day, you should have several masks. Wash the mask any time it gets damp. Once they get damp, they become uncomfortable and less useful. Have a bunch and wash them with your regular wash.

But try to avoid handling the masks. The technical term is donning and doffing – putting it on and off. Be careful you just don't bring the germs you collect home and onto your hands and then put your hands in your mouth. That would defeat the purpose of the mask.

Protests during a pandemic

Madeleine: Should people wear a mask if they attend a Black Lives Matter protest?

André: Probably just to be safe, yes.

The good thing is, the protests are outdoors and there’s less risk of spread outdoors. The greatest risk is when you’re stationary in a place with other people, in a closed space. It depends on how big the march is, how close you are together, and if you are going to stand there for a while.

Most protesters, from what I can see on TV, are being quite responsible and erring on the side of wearing a mask.

Kids and coronavirusReturning to daycare

Madeleine: A reader asks: Is it okay to send my kid to daycare when they reopen?

André: This is about personal risk tolerance. Some people let their kids walk to school alone, some won’t. That’s all personal, a feeling of safety.

In terms of the risk for children, we know children don’t get that sick, but they can be carriers. You have to take this all into account. How desperately do you need a break? Do you desperately need to get back to work? There’s no mathematical formula for these things. You have to figure out how to feel comfortable.

Kawasaki disease

Madeleine: Let’s talk about the inflammatory diseases we’re seeing in children that seem to be related to COVID-19. What is the disease and what do medical officials think is happening?

André: This is very rare condition, it’s very similar to Kawasaki disease. Kawasaki is not COVID-19. Kawasaki happens with other infections. We don’t know why it happens to some children and not others. There might be some genetic marker that you have, we don’t know exactly, but it’s being watched closely.

The good thing is while kids get sick, they seemed all to be getting better. Pediatricians are on the lookout for it. Most kids will get it, but it will be like a cold, and we’ll never know. If they start having the severe symptoms, take them to the ER.

And that’s a reminder that people shouldn’t avoid the emergency room. It is a very safe place to be, if you need to be there. It’s much worse for your health to not go, and especially for kids.

TestingAntibody tests

Madeleine: How accurate are these antibody tests? They started rolling out two months ago – are they any better now?

André: Canada is being cautious on this, trying to figure out which ones work best and how accurate they are.

There's a case in Colorado where they did thousands of antibody tests, and it turned out the test was not accurate at all. It was actually counterproductive. Their infection rate went up because people thought they were immune to further infection when they were not, and they went out and got infected.

It’s important that we take time to figure out the right tests.

Antibody testing strategy

Madeleine: When can Canada expect to have a comprehensive antibody testing strategy?

André: We have a committee to figure out this strategy. They don’t have a fixed deadline, but they are meeting regularly, trying to figure this out as quickly as possible.

But again, it is about making sure you have the right tests. I know people are impatient, but we have to make sure that the results are useful. If the results are not useful, it will have been just a waste of money.

Social etiquette during a pandemicPublic washrooms

Madeleine: Are public washrooms safe?

André: First of all, you have to say they’re essential. One of the big problems in the Trinity Bellwood incident is there were no bathrooms. People were defecating on lawns, which is not acceptable, but when you don’t have anywhere to go, these things happen.

Public washrooms are important and they’re less accessible than they’ve ever been. In Canada we are terrible about public washrooms to start, and this has made it worse.

I stressed that they are essential. Then the question is, how do we make them safe?

The good news is bathrooms are built to avoid infections. COVID-19 is not, as we say in the public health business, a fecal oral disease. The risk is being in any closed space. So minimize the time you’re in there, wash your hands, have one person in at a time. There is some laboratory research suggesting that electric hand dryers could spread germs so drying your hands with paper towel is likely a better bet.

We shouldn’t close bathrooms.

Family caregivers

Madeleine: Senior residents and long-term care homes across the country have been in full lockdown mode since March. Residents are holed up in their rooms with no visits from friends or family and no end in sight soon. Will it be safe to open up these facilities to visitors?

André: I don’t think we’re ready for visitors, but I think we’re long overdue to have caregivers. We have to stop calling them visitors, they are essential caregivers. They should have been in there a long time ago.

Yes, there is a risk – the risk that they carried the illness out – but it’s outweighed by the needs of the people.

There are so many sad, sad stories about patients with dementia. They haven’t seen a loved one in 80 days. It’s really unconscionable.

Some provinces are allowing it, finally. Quebec allows it. They have the worst number of cases in long-term care, but they recognized it’s really essential, as important as the PSWs and nurses. You have to give families the right to come back, and stop calling them visitors. It’s insulting.

[nannynest]

How to Discover the Best Daycare for your Child in Your Neighborhood!

Finding the correct childcare for your kid can be overwhelming. Nonetheless, there are a few things you can do to assist you with finding the absolute best childcare in your neighborhood. 

1. Decide your fundamental needs 

On the off chance that you might want the sentiment of "being in the home," and require child care administrations for fewer kids, in-home childcare might be ideal for you. In-home childcare is given in the consideration supplier's home. It will feel like a home since it is now home. 

Notwithstanding, on the off chance that you incline toward a spot where your kid can mingle, a focus based play group in mira road might be a superior fit. Focus based childcare normally happens in a bigger, business building where care suppliers administer a ton of kids. 

Area

To get child care that addresses your issues, consider whether you might want the childcare to be near your work, your home, or some place in the middle. Furthermore, on the off chance that you are searching for the best daycare in mira road that gives some kind of outside play time, consider on the off chance that you need the office to be in the city, suburbia, or outside city limits in a more rustic region. 

Spending plan

Ensure you know your spending plan before you put a great deal of time into your inquiry. There isn't anything more disappointing than finding a childcare you like at that point understanding the expense surpasses your spending plan. 

2. Exploration neighborhood childcares 

Loved ones

Make certain to inquire as to why a relative or companion suggests childcare on the grounds that their reasons may not line up with your necessities. For instance, they may like the 

baby day care in mira road since it is situated close to their home, and this may not be a need for you. Monitoring your own needs will assist you with realizing how to gauge another person's proposal in your official conclusion. 

Accreditation 

Numerous childcares are licensed. For example, some give accessible information bases to locate a certified daycare in mira road close to you. Moreover, you can find out about the accreditation cycle and comprehend why certify day care focuses are significantly more qualified than non-authorize ones. For example, authorize child care offices expect suppliers to be prepared in CPR. 

Peruse online audits 

Visit places, for example, Yahoo Local, Yelp, and the Better Business Bureau to discover what different guardians are stating about childcares. Search for any protests documented against a childcare you are thinking about. 

3. Visit – pose inquiries 

Some fundamental things to search for when visiting a day care centre in mira road incorporate the accompanying eight things. 

 site tidiness 

 openness/enormous play territory 

 toys in great working request 

 safe 

 age suitable 

 social condition/regardless of whether the youngsters are playing together 

 disposition of the youngsters 

 disposition of the staff 

Try to observe the grown-up to-youngster proportion. The American Academy of Pediatrics suggests there be one grown-up for each three youngsters up to the age of two years. Additionally, observe regarding whether the staff is on the floor with the kids. It is significant that youngsters experience warm and responsive consideration as this positively affects their turn of events. 

Plan 

Prior to visiting, build up a rundown of inquiries. Doing so guarantees you get the most data conceivable. A few things you might need to ask about incorporate 

– discipline arrangements 

– taking care of times and arrangements 

– screen time 

– day by day exercises 

– rest time 

Get some information about their arrangement with respect to unscheduled visits. On the off chance that the childcare necessitates that you plan to visit, think about another childcare. You ought to have the option to see your youngster whenever. 

Child rearing style

Also, picking a childcare generally lined up with your child rearing style will assist with diminishing the probability of issues, misconceptions, or simply by and large disappointment with the childcare. 

Extra things to recall 

Picking a childcare that works for you and your kid is an extremely close to home decision. Despite the fact that a few guardians may have about a specific childcare in the event that you discover it doesn't work for you–under any circumstances that is alright. It is smarter to forgo childcare than hazard issues down the line. 

Start the cycle at any rate a half year ahead of time. There is a ton to consider, and it takes effort to locate the best childcare choice for your youngster.

[bigbangenthusiast]

Hi there! I love your stories. Since you're accepting prompts, how about 218? Thanks!

Thank you, Anon. I hope you enjoy this little story I wrote for you.

Amy was relieved when Sheldon told her he was working late. It gave her time to prepare his favorite meal and gather her thoughts. She had some news and was worried about his reaction. When he walked in the door, she pulled the casserole dish out of the oven.

He sidled up next to her as she set it on the table. “Mmm… Spaghetti with cut up hotdogs. What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion. I just wanted to make your favorite meal. And that’s not all.” She pulled a carafe of Strawberry Quik from the fridge and set it down with a flourish.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re trying to butter me up. You’re the best.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

Amy gulped but said nothing, as she took her seat. Sheldon dumped a huge scoopful of pasta onto his plate and dug in. He didn’t even notice that his fiancée took a much smaller portion than normal. She chewed each biteful of food slowly, as she was prone to do when she was nervous.

When the dishes were cleared, Amy led Sheldon to the couch. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it. He appeared to be in a good mood, but she wasn’t ready to spring the news on him quite yet. She hadn’t even come to terms with it herself.

“You’re awfully quiet today. Is everything alright?”

She turned toward him and held his hands. “I… I don’t know.”

“Amy?

"I have some news that’s going to affect our wedding plans.”

He gripped her hands tighter. “Are you going back to Princeton? Because I can see how that would be a problem. There are some details we can work out online, like searching for the perfect invitations, but inspecting the local bakeries for cleanliness and trying cake samples will prove to be difficult.”

“I’m not going to Princeton… or anywhere.”

He loosened his tight grip on her and ran his thumbs along the backs of her hands. “Then whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

She looked down at her lap. “It’s worse.”

He released her left hand and lifted her chin with his fingers. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” She lowered her lashes. “Amy, you’re scaring me. Are you sick?”

She shook her head no. “Sheldon,” she looked him straight in the eyes, “I’m pregnant.”

His jaw dropped. “How… how did this happen? We’re always so careful. Are you sure? Those home pregnancy test results can be ambiguous.”

“I’m positive. I went to the doctor’s office over my lunch break to confirm.” She watched the myriad of emotions cross his features – shock, disbelief, worry. ”I’m sorry, Sheldon. I know it wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“Why are you sorry? I’m just as much to blame as you are.”

“But it’s because of my body that we’ll have to rearrange everything. I’m due in June, so we’ll have to find another date, but it can’t be in April or May because I’ll be as big as a house,” she sobbed. “And I don’t want to wait until after the baby is born.”

He enveloped her in his arms, stroking her hair as her tears soaked the back of his shirt. “I know you wanted a June wedding, but we can make this work. We live in a warm climate, so we can even get married in January or February and still have an outdoor wedding.”

She sniffled. “And it’s not just the wedding planning. What about our two-year plan? We were supposed to get married and enjoy our time alone as a couple while preparing ourselves before we started trying. We haven’t even looked into daycare options or read any parenting books. Aren’t you upset?”

“Surprised, yes, but upset, no.

She disentangled herself from his hold and sat back, studying his face. “I think I’m more surprised that you seem okay with this than I am that we got ourselves into this predicament.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve invented a time machine so we can go back and undo it.”

“But aren’t you scared?”

“I am, but look at it this way. Halley is thriving with Wolowitz as her father, and our child will be in better hands.”

“I don’t mean that; I know you’ll make a great father. It’s all the changes I’m worried about.“

“I know I don’t always deal well with change, but some of the greatest joys in my life have come as the result of it.”

“Such as?”

He looked at her tenderly. “The best change of all was when I welcomed you into my life.”

She leaned forward and planted her lips on his briefly then drew back slightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, and I will love our baby.” He rested one hand on her thigh and the other on her flat belly.

"Of course you will. I don’t doubt that. I just wish the timing…”

“We’ll be fine.” Before she could protest, he cut her off with a passionate kiss. She melted into him and pushed her worries aside. This wonderful man had surprised her once again, and she couldn’t wait to see what else the future held for them.