#suddenly the childcare is the only thing they care about

[nucarnivalfever]

Why everytime a character is pregnant, and later have child they are almost always lost their dream?

[songmingisthighs]

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. iv

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 3.9k

warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), negative depiction of wooyoung

a/n : sorry it took a while but life is shit and I've been doing nothing but STRUGGLING. head so overly packed and yet thoughts were not thunken so i decide to finish this chapter. here's to torture ig. help a sister out, send tips so i can drown myself in bubble tea pls

buy me coffee ?

Never would you have expected to be in the exact same place in the exact same situation as before. Well, not the exact same per se, but you thought the same thing couldn't happen twice, you being called to the hospital that is. Apparently, your husband had another accident and since you were his dearest wife and emergency contact, the hospital called you up.

You were not spiteful nor bitter towards your husband, you never were until you found out that he was cheating on you. So the nagging thought in your head that convinced you that he was probably with his mistress when he got hurt again made you feel rather sick to your stomach. Perhaps you had been in some sort of denial while Wooyoung was recovering from his initial injury, thinking that maybe it was only a one-time thing or the cheating had stopped because you hadn't seen him doing anything shady or being secretive during his recovery. In all honesty, you begrudgingly and heartbrokenly expected him to cheat again because the access was just there even with the doubt.

The turmoil plus the morning sickness had taken a toll on you, not to mention the household chores and catering to the man who had broken your trust in him. It hadn't even occurred to you that you probably need to go see your OBGYN again to check up on the baby you had yet to mention to anyone. At this point, the question was whether you will or not. Considering the situation you were facing, the option of running away to Sweden to become a childcare professional seemed very enticing. You wouldn't have to worry about the money to take care of your child or their education, the government will provide and you can visit the original IKEA. But of course that was but a fantasy, you still have responsibilities and unlike some people, you stick to your words.

Arriving at the nurse's station in the emergency room, you huffed and took a moment to take a deep breath, suddenly feeling nauseated and lightheaded. Seeing this, one of the nurses walked around and went over to you, "Miss, are you okay? Do you need emergency care?" the care in her voice, be it due to nurse training or genuine worry made you crack a smile, "No, no, no, I'm- I'm here to see my husband, I got a call that," you cut yourself to swallow the bile that threatened to escape you, willing yourself to finish your sentence, "-That he was rushed here because he got hurt?" Although it was obvious that you were not there as a patient, the nurse shook her head and gently directed you towards the seats nearby, "You need to sit down first, miss," she stated but you shook your head, "No, no, please, I just need to see if he's okay and it's Mrs.," you clarified but did nothing to push back. She wouldn't listen and just sat you down and it was only then did you realized how the world had practically turned into a gyrosphere. "I will check on the name of your husband and I will bring you tea. You look very pale and I don't think we need both you and your husband sick today," she smiled but the words she let out only left a bitter taste in your tongue as the notion that you and Wooyoung were some type of team only made you more aware how much you were not. But you agreed and just smiled back at her, allowing her to return to the station to check on where Wooyoung was and to get you something.

Whilst waiting, you looked around as your mind wandered. For some reason your brain decided it would be a good idea to suddenly think of what's to come. Surely, Wooyoung realized that something had been going on with you which was the reason why he was suddenly being so attentive and tried to get you to speak to him which you had been so adamantly avoid. The thought of Wooyoung potentially badgering you even more because he'll be stuck in the house due to whatever condition he was in made you feel anxious. For the first time ever in your life, you realized that you both wanted your husband to be contained in your house so he would stop his affair but also resented the idea of being stuck there with him.

You stood up and started walked towards the exit, not knowing if you need a breather or to just leave the hospital and deal with Wooyoung later.

Your plan to leave the premises was halted when the curtain to one of the areas was pulled back and a very familiar face stepped out. The face you came to resent despite being fond of it in the first place, when you saw it around 3 years ago when she first came to the company.

For some reason, your legs seemed to freeze and your hands felt cold. At that moment, you truly wanted to leave, run past her and simply leave the premises and maybe just leave your husband because the conversation that happened in front of you was something you didn't want to handle.

Your eyes followed as Harin went over to the nurse's station, smiling to one of the other nurses who was sitting there. "Hi, can you please keep an eye in case the patient in bed number 4 woke up? I'm going to go get something for him to drink. Poor guy left home in a rush to meet me," she said sheepishly but there was a slight bragging undertone that made the nurse cooed slightly. "Don't you worry, Mrs Jung, I'll make sure your husband knows where you are," she smiled. Two times this had happened in the same hospital and it made you sick to your stomach when you saw her beam proudly and thank the nurse before sauntering off.

At that moment you felt numb. It wasn't like you didn't know there was an affair going on, you just never expected to have seen the relationship yourself. Have they talked about commitment? Was that why the little homewrecker thought she was or would be Wooyoung's wife? Was Wooyoung planning on leaving you all along? Had your children slipped Wooyoung's mind for some reason? If you were unsure before, the uncertainty left your body completely as you made up your mind that you had to protect your children and yourself. If Wooyoung was going to leave and start another family with some dumb 20-something with no redeeming value nor moral compass, then you're going to make sure he does it without affecting your children. As redundant as that sounded.

In a blink of an eye, you found yourself next to Wooyoung who was resting. You looked over his body and for once in your life, you suddenly didn't care that he was right there nor what his injuries might be. It didn't matter to you all of a sudden because looking at him only made you aware that he had allowed someone to touch him the way he had once promised only you would be able to. The last time he was hurt on her watch turned out was because of his bad back and with the power of cynical assumption and logical thinking, you imagine he was in some sort of sexual activity with her and this time was no better.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't even realize that Wooyoung had opened his eyes and was staring at you from his position on the bed.

"(y/n)?" he called you, eyes soft as he gazed at the worried look on your face, mistaking it as worry over him, "When did you get here?" he asked, the tone didn't indicate any panic which could be assumed as him not wanting you to see his mistress. Perhaps he was unaware of the particular situation.

The turmoil in your head hadn't died down, it only amplified when Wooyoung talked. Your heart ached to see him looking at you so softly as he had been nothing short of detached from you for a long while. It had to go to this point for him to show you any semblance of closeness or even just a tiny showcase of care. The Wooyoung you were seeing was the Wooyoung you fell in love with, even if it's just a glimpse. The acknowledgement hurt, it hurt you so much and it hurt you deeply.

How surprised you were when your body moved to sit next to him on the bed, quietly taking in his attention on you. "I... I got a call from the hospital saying you got hurt again. Are you okay?" You could see Wooyoung trying to sit up but you held him back, shaking your head because in this position, you felt like you had the upper hand. In this situation, you felt like you could see how small he was. On the other hand, Wooyoung took this as you not wanting him to get hurt again so he laid back down and sighed, "I'm okay I guess," he shrugged. "What happened?" you couldn't help but ask, though you weren't entirely sure if you wanted to know because what if he told you that he was in the middle of doing the nasty with his side bitch and he broke his... equipment or something? "Not sure," he exhaled sharply, "I was talking one moment and when I turned around to leave, I hit my back and I just... Fell."

Lies.

Well, it was the truth from Wooyoung's side at least.

Sure, he completely skipped over the fact that he was in the middle of telling Harin that they should not meet each other for a while and it was because of her trying to stop him that he hurt his back yet again. The moment he fell down was the moment he realized he should've said that he was taking a break from her indefinitely, possibly breaking up with her completely. As if that would make things any better.

"You just... Fell?" you repeated, not sure if you were just echoing, or trying to test him and see if he told you what you thought was the truth, or if you were trying to convince yourself. But Wooyoung nodded, looking sure of his answer too. "Yeah and it hurt so much I think I passed out in the ambulance like a wimp," he chuckled to himself, not knowing that you completely agreed that he was being a wimp but for a whole other reason.

"But you know what," all of a sudden, Wooyoung slinked his hand to hold yours and your body immediately froze be it due to the heavy unsurety or shock, you weren't sure. But you were pretty sure his touch no longer had the effect it once had on you because though this felt like your old Wooyoung genuinely coming back, all you wanted to do was to push him away.

"Though I was scared, though I was in pain, all I could think about was you. I was thinking about how if I was injured again, I would burden you even more, how it would affect you and your daily function," he said, choking up slightly. You have known him long enough to know that the emotion he was showing was genuine. But all it did was piss you off.

"I'm sorry I have been such a burden to you, I've been a tool what with my work and not helping you around. These past three weeks had taught me that you have been holding us together better than I did, better than I ever did actually. And for that, I love you. I love you so much and once this is all over, I want us to return to what we were before or however way you want because you deserve it."

That was a slap to your face.

You deserve it.

It was as if he was saying that you deserved to be cheated by him.

You hadn't realized that you had shed a tear until Wooyoung tried to sit up again but he failed because his back had prevented him. So he gripped the hand in his tighter and reached a hand up to cup your face, wanting to wipe the tear away. But this time, you were the one who took his hand in yours, delightfully surprising him because he thought that you were reciprocating him.

"I..." you took a moment to clear your throat and calm yourself down, not wanting your words to fail you, "I'm so glad to hear that, Wooyoung." A huge smile broke on Wooyoung's face hearing your response to his confession. You too, had a smile on your face, but it was one of sadness, it was one of pain which Wooyoung would have noticed had it not been because he was too involved with his own feelings. "I'm so glad to know that you still cared a lot about me," you sighed.

You knew the words that were at the tip of your tongue would change everything so for the sake of the decades you spent with the man before you, you allowed yourself one final moment to take it all in again. Enjoying the reappearance of your old lover before you go back to reality, the reality he had put you in.

"I know you've been cheating on me."

In an instant, Wooyoung froze.

His smile, present, projected his internal shock and confusion.

"What?" he asked, unsure if he had heard you clearly.

The hand that held his moved to push his bangs aside, allowing him to see how eerily calm you were.

"I... I know you've been cheating on me with someone and that person is here with you. Though I'm not completely sure, I feel like you were with her when you got hurt this time and the last and she had made it a point to tell the nurses that she was your spouse," you chuckled darkly and the sound was so unfamiliar and cold that it struck fear in Wooyoung's heart. "(y/n), I-" "And, you know how she got kicked out not long after? During your first hospitalization? It was because I accidentally told the nurses that I was your wife." The more you talked, the bitter the reality became for you and yet, you can't find it in yourself to stop laughing. "I- I actually thought that you would at least have the decency to stop seeing her when you were resting these past weeks but apparently I was wrong. Just like how I was wrong about having a husband who honours our vows, right? So I'm glad that you told me that you still loved me Wooyoung, no matter how much of a bullshit it was, I'm glad you have just now realized how much I've done for you, for our children, for our family."

The mention of his kids made Wooyoung's eyes widened, thinking that maybe they knew too be it from you telling him or them seeing him with Harin themselves. To make the situation even more nerve-wracking for him, the monitor picked up on his rising heartbeat, allowing you to know just how afraid he was.

"Because as of right now, I am done. I am done being your doormat," you leaned close to him and in a flash, your eyes turned from pain to pure anger, the eyes that used to look at him with love and hope were looking at him in disgust, "As of right now, I am done being your wife," you finally spat before pushing yourself completely off him and the bed, standing up to fix your clothes, "You can go ahead and play house with that homewrecker or whichever whore you want but one thing you won't get is my children and my compassion." Instinctively, your hand fell to your stomach where your newest addition was residing as if promising it that you both would be okay despite everything. "So you take good care of yourself, Wooyoung, or you make sure whoever you choose to be with you next could take care of you, you hear me? Because hell would freeze over before I let myself serve you again."

When you turned around to leave, Wooyoung felt like his world was shaking like a massive earthquake.

"No- wait-" he tried calling for you, he tried getting up again only to wince and fail. All hopes he had that you would still come back to him was crushed when you didn't even look back at his pained cry.

His world came crumbling down when he saw you opening and closing his curtain, leaving him alone in that bed with your words weighing on him like a hundred tons of bricks. Just as he had seen the wrong he did, just as he had decided to come back, karma slapped him so hard, he was sure he wouldn't recover. So he lay there, he laid on his bed with his eyes on the ceiling and he cried silently. The tears stung his eyes but he couldn't bear to wipe them away himself, he couldn't bear to move, not when he realized how fucked he was. How stuck he was.

In a way, you were lucky to be able to leave the premises and possibly choose to just never see Wooyoung again.

Oddly, you hadn't shed a tear despite the fear, pain, sorrow, disgust, confusion, and uncertainty mixing together and creating a tornado of negativity in your head. You thought that you had to keep it all in until you didn't have to attend to your responsibilities which were your children.

Glancing at the clock, you saw that you had a good 2 hours before you had to pick Woohyun up and take him to his after-school class while Dayoung would take the bus with her friends to hakwon. Realizing the vacancy you had, you thought that you could do some good with your time. You could maybe pack your things and your children's things up so when you pick them up, you can take them straight to your parents' house. Or, since you and your children took up the majority, you could pack Wooyoung's things up, drop them at the academy and leave them for the bitty homewrecker with the note 'Have fun with my leftover, whorish bitch'. It was only at that moment did you even think of her and how the affair came to be. You were a firm believer that some feelings are just uncontrollable but ultimately, someone's actions are absolutely controllable. And that bitch and Wooyoung decided to abandon control for whatever reason there is and now they forced your children to be in a broken family. You weren't against divorce, especially if infidelity was involved, you were just against your children having to go through unimaginable pain and having to navigate through life with all sorts of uncertainty.

It astounded you that even after dropping the hammer on your husband (or is it soon-to-be-ex-husband now?), all you could care about were your children and how to help them going forward.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't realize that you were already parked in front of your house for the past 15 minutes, just glaring at the car ahead as if that car was the one who had wronged your family.

A sudden knock from the window on your side caused you to jump in surprise and of course, the official ambassador of Wooyoung's hospitalization showed up.

"Hey, don't you need to get out?" Yunho asked, raising an eyebrow and offering a smile that would've made you chuckle on a normal day. But alas, you were not in the mood.

When you finally got out of the car, you tried your best to avoid being close to Yunho or even to just see Yunho. At that moment, the grass on your lawn seemed more interesting.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, voice void of any emotions. Yunho furrowed his eyebrows and ducked, trying to find your eyes but of course, you were evading it. "Aren't you gonna look at me?" he asked but you immediately shook your head and kept your mouth shut.

There was a long pause because Yunho wanted to hear you speak but you had adamantly stuck to your ground, not wanting to say anything for absolutely no reason at all. It kind of annoyed you how Yunho was there on your most vulnerable days what with being the first to know of your awareness of your husband's infidelity and now he was probably going to be yet another first in knowing that you had just informed your husband that you basically wanted to separate from him permanently. You didn't hate Yunho as a person despite everything, you just hated his timing.

Then he surprised you yet again when he reached forward and gently took ahold of your hand, effectively causing you to look up at him though initially in annoyance but you didn't take your hand from him.

Yunho's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, struggling to find the words to use on you. Should he tell you that he had heard what you told Wooyoung at the ER? Should he tell you that he was proud that you were doing something good for yourself? What could he even say to make things better? Your marriage had just ended, there is nothing that could make that fact better because it was a devastating thing for you and you were going to have to go through all sorts of hassle and pain alone while still supporting two children. Well, three, but thankfully that little nugget of information was one that he wasn't privy to.

So rather than trying to comfort you, Yunho just smiled and nodded.

It was the availability of Yunho that broke you. One, two tears dropped down your cheek before you felt the air sucked out of you and the horrifying realization of your action was finally dropped down on you.

"Oh God," you gasped, knees buckling when you started sobbing but Yunho's reflex immediately kicked in and he pulled you into his arms, supporting your weight as you received the immense weight of reality.

Yunho didn't dare say anything, he didn't even dare to comfort you because he knew he couldn't do anything. There was nothing for him to do but to allow you to have your moment and just be there to support you because God knows without him, you wouldn't have the support you need without having to hurt not only yourself all over again, but possibly hurt more people. So at that moment, though it pained him to see such a strong person break down like that, he let things go the way they should because as hard as he was trying to keep the thought down, he knew what he was doing was a good thing.

Unfortunately, the eyes that watched you and Yunho embracing each other so freely in public- in front of the house you shared with Wooyoung, didn't think the same way. The eyes that watched you had misunderstood, thinking that it was you who was unfaithful.

A picture worth a thousand words. And how glad Dayoung was for taking two.

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[dcawritings]

You are the manager of the daycare (and Sun by extension). Some people think this means you don't care if he gets yelled at.

This assumption is wildly inaccurate, and you are not afraid to professionally threaten correct them.

You're in the middle of something important.

It's been clinging at your thoughts all day while you tried desperately to ignore it, but at some point it became impossible to deny the truth--technically, it had a higher priority than everything you decided to complete much earlier in the shift.

And unfortunately that leaves you stuck at your desk, staring down hard at the collection of intake forms and spreadsheets. You know it won't take more than half an hour, but that time would be some of the most horrible, boring, downright painful minutes of your life.

Could you push it off until tomorrow? Maybe Monday even?

No, you ultimately decide, the paperwork needed to be done. There was no point to pushing it back again--it still needed to be forwarded to the document filing team, then to human resources, and that would only end up making your job harder in the end since only then could you finalize everything.

By the time that you'd actually relegated yourself to sitting down and getting the work done, the day was nearly over with--parents were starting to come in and pick up their children.

Some were kids of employees that worked at the Pizzaplex itself; childcare cost was heavily discounted for workers of any department, so it was extremely convenient for many who simply didn't have any other options. They were also some of the sweetest kids you'd ever met, if only because they were very familiar with the daycare and its rules. Other children were simply dropped off because the guardians wanted some time to enjoy the facility themselves for a few hours or so. The process for checking a child out was the same regardless, and typically very painless after a parent knew to expect the process.

Normally you don't need to worry about assisting with child pickups. You had several employees that were expected to make sure the process was quick and smooth, though there was only two on the clock right now--a couple call-outs had left you with less people than you'd like on such a busy day, but the two working today were some of your best and longest-term employees. They handled plenty of crazier days, so you trusted them to keep things together when office work took precedence over smaller tasks that kept you visible and available even for the kids themselves.

So, one can imagine your utter surprise when the sound of disdained yelling suddenly echoes through the daycare. Not just a little yelling either; it's shrill, with enough intensity that it reaches all the way to your back office and that... that takes a lot. Enough that it immediately tugs at your instincts to investigate.

The words aren't clear enough to make out, so you push yourself away from the desk and leave the office, then out of the hallway into the main daycare area.

It doesn't take more than a breath of time to realize who is making all the noise--a parent. They're standing near the front of the daycare, but not where they're supposed to be.

The check-out desk was located in the small room overlooking the daycare's main play area, separated by plexiglass and rope netting. Not only was it supposed to be an easier way to get kids comfortable in being away from their parents (they literally arrive in the daycare by way of a slide into a ball pit), but it also served as a form of security--nobody could enter the daycare without proper credentials, and there was always someone posted up there to greet anyone coming to drop off or pick up their child.

But this one? Somehow, this one came through an employee-only entrance. That audacity alone would make your blood boil, but the fact that you recognized the woman only made it worse.

Her shrill screaming filled the room with venom while she clutched her son against her hip, as if trying to shield him from the poor daycare attendant animatronic who was, as best as he could, diffuse the situation.

It doesn't take long to get an idea of what she's going off about either--the woman is not particularly quiet about it.

"When I leave my son here, I expect that he will be safe!" she hisses, brushing her son's hair as if trying to soothe the child. "And what do I find when I come to pick him up? That he's been manhandled and tossed around like a toy--you're lucky he didn't break a bone!"

The young boy doesn't look injured, and if anything he seems more scared of his mother.

Travis, you recall his name--a rather quiet boy, didn't always like to play with other kids. His mother, Sarah, worked in one of the back offices as a programmer. Her hours were always odd, so his father tended to be the one to drop the boy off. Now you understand why.

The thing was, Travis really liked playing with Sun. Since he was shy, the daytime bot often took it upon himself to try and encourage the boy to take part in craftime or storytime--he'd recently been able to get him to play in the ball pit with the other kids his age.

"This kind of behavior is completely inexcusable," she finally seethes, a look of one-note rage in her eyes that seemed to burn the longer she looks at the animatronic. "I will make sure to put in a complaint about this--"

"I-I am sorry that you think your son was h-harmed, Miss Martin. I assure you that h-he was just playing with the other kids." Sun lifts his hands up in a passive way, trying desperately to keep her from screaming more. People were starting to stare at the unfolding scene, and it was quickly coming undone at the seams. "I am incapable of doing anything that w-would put any little superstars in danger!"

Sarah's eyes gleam with poison as she seems to catch her claws on a hook. "Oh, so you're saying you're defecting from your programing?"

"N-no! Not at all! My programming is clean as a whistle, I have it debugged at r-regular intervals!"

"I work in the programming department," she says, voice going quiet. "With the glamrock series code. Directly down the hall from the man who makes decisions about every machine in this facility. All it would take is for me to walk right down to his office and let him know that the daycare is turning into a severe liability for the company." You are already hurrying over, not missing the way Sunny's fists start to clench tight, tight enough for his joints to squeal under the pressure as he restrains himself. He's trying so hard to keep his professionalism under the abuse--and Sarah seems to know exactly what to say.

"Your model is old. Your code is old. It's a shoddy piece of work that should be scrapped and redone, I've been telling them that for months now. They'd be better of scrapping you so we can finally have room for another glamrock and-"

You waste no time in immediately stepping directly into the line of fire, forcing yourself into the space between Sun and Sarah who has, until that moment, been encroaching closer and closer into his personal space. Was she trying to set him off? To see how far he would take the abuse before saying something wrong?

Probably. You wouldn't put it past a cruel woman like her at this point.

"What seems to be the problem here?" you say, fake smile wide and tone forcibly friendly. "I sure heard you all the way from my office!"

"Oh no dear, don't worry, it's nothing you need to concern yourself about," the woman says, waving her hand at you as if expecting her words to be like an order. "Though you can be a dear and go fetch the manager?"

You don't move, but clench your jaw tight and force the words through your teeth, "I happen to be the manager of the daycare, so if there is an issue or complaint, then I need to know about it! So please," the fake smile drops and you stare at her hard. "What is the problem here?"

Sarah's expression twitches with annoyance, but she tries to immediately save face by gesturing to her son and acting as if she was the one getting yelled at.

"Well, I didn't want to make a big deal of it, but my son has been injured because of your animatronic!"

You glance over at Travis. The poor kid is no older than eight, and he's trying to stare down at his shoes, his face flushed red with embarrassment and shame.

"Hey, little buddy," you kneel down to be closer to eye-level with him. "Did something happen to get you hurt?"

He shakes his head before his mother can try to interject. When you try to ask him another question she finally puts a hand between his gaze and yours, breaking it and forcing you to look back at her.

"That thing is running on severely old, broken code," she says, tone low and voice slow, as if trying to communicate an unspoken threat. "It's only a matter of time before something happens. Before someone gets hurt. I don't understand why they haven't just decommissioned the abhorrent thing. Doesn't even look as cute as the glamrocks."

Oh. So she's chosen death?

No. Breathe. Slowly. Remember how things work. Remember to play it smart. She wants you to get angry, needs to get a response out of you just so she can use it to cry to upper management.

Be smart about this. Be smart and unyielding. It takes every ounce of restraint not to deck the woman in the nose right there--but you at least have an upper hand.

"Who is your direct manager?"

"Huh?"

You stare at her expectantly, letting the silence fill the room before finally clarifying and repeating yourself. "Who. Is. Your. Direct. Manager?"

"I-I don't know how that's relevant to the current problem we're trying to solve."

"Well," you finally say, pulling out your company-assigned mini pad and scrolling through the employee database. "I need to get into contact with them about your behavior. Obviously you've forgotten several very important policies and I want to make sure you're educated on them as need be."

"Wh-what policies?" Sarah demands. "I haven't broken anything--that thing is what we're talking about right now."

You shake your head, proud of the even tone to your voice even though you want nothing more than to scream and yell at her in kind.

"First, you enter the daycare using an unapproved door-"

"I am an employee for the company-!"

"-and even employees are not allowed to use that door. It is for daycare attendants and handlers only. It is an active security measure to ensure the safety of little superstars like your son, whom you obviously seem to care for the safety of, right?"

She is silent, sputtering, taken aback by your confidence or simple knowledge of how to play the system correctly.

"Second, I have you on record actively harassing a coworker. Not only are you specifically not using his preferred pronouns, you are also belittling and demeaning him and his ability to do his job correctly. A job which I will remind you is difficult and stressful and comes with a wide variety of nuance."

You take the opportunity to step forward. Not too far, just a little idle step. Enough to take control and apply pressure to the situation.

"I'm sorry that you can't seem to understand the subtlety of how kids tend to play around Travis' age, and I'm sorry that you don't seem to care about the fact that he has been making very good progress in getting to know the other kids--specifically because of Sun's hard work with him."

Another small, calculated step. Sarah retreats from how she's looming forward, and you can see the tension in her jaw.

"Harassing a coworker? I haven't said anything to-"

"Sun? You mean one of my employees? The very one I heard you screaming at?" You shrug, managing to seem coldly nonchalant with surprising ease--maybe it's the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Between the heat of your words, you feel one of Sun's hand gently grabbing the back of your shirt. Not tugging, just holding on. "I mean, if you like we can go into my office and I can pull the cameras--if I misunderstood something then surely we can go over the recording and find out where I'm not getting that right."

That's the final push. Sarah knows she can't win the argument or force you to back down from a legitimate, honest-to-god threat. Despite being in a different department, technically you are still above her; you already know her manager. Marcus was a pretty easy-going guy that had a lot of sympathy for the animatronics, so it wouldn't take much for him to write her up from your word alone.

"I... well, maybe I just misunderstood," the woman finally says, her smile cold and not reaching her eyes. "No need to make this a big deal or anything! I will make sure to use the right door next time, my mistake."

Your mouth moves faster than your brain can stop them--it's edging on the line of being appropriate for someone of your position, but you need to make sure this woman understands that you are willing to hold your ground.

"Please do, because if I hear of something like this happening again? I will ban you outright from the daycare facility."

Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth as if to say something, but she's already lost. You have the authority to decline service to anyone, and at least with this situation you were grateful to have that power.

Sarah hurries out of the room without another word. You feel bad for Travis--the kid really didn't deserve to be in the middle of all that--but he offers some assurance by turning around to try and wave before the two of them disappear beyond the door.

You barely get a chance to let out a held breath before a pair of hurried footsteps approach you.

"Is everything okay?" one of the attendants ask. She's normally so soft spoken, but you can hear the genuine concern leaking through the words. "I knew as soon as I saw Sarah things would be bad--she always tries to find something to yell about when she picks Travis up."

"Yeah," the other worker echoes, then turns to speak to Sun. "I am so sorry you ended up with her, Sunny. If I knew she had used the door down here I would have immediately left the intake room."

The two of them started to crowd around you and Sun a bit more than you liked. Jesus, how was Sun even doing?

"We're okay, it's fine just-" another sigh spills from your lips, exhaustion taking the space where adrenaline had kept you so still and composed. "You two go make sure the other kids are okay? That was a lot of screaming for them to hear."

With only a little more consoling they finally move away to check on the few kids still waiting to get picked up. It leaves you and Sun alone at least, a vague amount of privacy.

You turn around, not sure what to expect from the animatronic--but it's a surprise all the same to find him staring at you with wide, as if unbelieving eyes. There's a sense of tension hidden somewhere in his expression, but its overshadowed by something else. Something hard to read.

"... Are you okay, Sunny?" you finally ask in a soft, gentle voice. He looks down, peering at the multicolored carpet silently. All it takes is the soft touch of your hand gently touching the side of his faceplate to make him twitch, listening but still not looking at you. "Don't you worry about anything, okay? She's just a cruel nobody who likes making other people feel bad. I will make sure she's not allowed anywhere beyond the intake room and make a recommendation that Travis' dad be the only one who can pick him up."

He is still silent, but you're relieved to see his body loosen. All that tension, all that heartache and anger, almost all gone in an instant.

"Sunny...?"

After a moment, the animatronic finally tilts his face into your touch. Before you can ask or say anything else, however, he sweeps you into his arms in a tight hug. So tight in fact that he begins to spin you around in a circle, stopping only when he's done sputtering.

"You didn't have to do all that for little ol' me! Someone so busybusy like you shouldn't need to deal with parents at all--you're so silly, starlight!"

Despite the fact that his words try to sound casual, you saw every sign in the book that Sun had barely been taking the woman's verbal abuse. You can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't shown up--would he have snapped? Would she have threatened something worse?

"Oh goodness please put me down Sunny-" you lean into his arms as the room slowly stops spinning around you. Then, when you collect yourself, you offer him a warm and genuine smile. "Sunshine, you are one of my employees, and nobody deserves to be talked down to like that at all. It's not fair for her to treat you like that-" you catch a look of worry somewhere in his eyes, and so you quickly add, "-and I will never let you be decommissioned. There isn't anything wrong with you, so don't let her empty threats put a rain cloud over you."

It's only in that moment that you realize how tightly his hands are grasping at your uniform.

"... you... promise?"

He's more scared of that then he ever lets on.

"I promise," you say with complete confidence. "Nobody will ever hurt you on my watch, Sun. You and Moon both. They'll have to go through my stubborn ass first--and I actually memorized most of the employee handbook anyway."

"Starlight!" he says, sounding shocked.

"Wh-what?"

"Language."

You chuckle, the sound rumbling through your chest as you bring a hand over your face. You'll have to touch base with Sun again once the other kids and employees have left for the night, but at least he's doing better.

And you're still sending a message to Marcus about her--she'll be lucky if she doesn't get a huge write-up for that outburst.

[oleander-nin]

If your request are open, could I request a few headcanons with the Rise Turtles?

The reader found a turtle mutant child alone in NYC and took them in because the parents abandoned them after they mutated. How would the Turtles react to their s/o or crush suddenly being the new mom to a turtle mutant?

A/N, not important: Thank you for the ask, and if you're ever curious about requesting, you can check my pinned post which has my requesting rules linked. This one was tough for me because I personally love kids, and used to volunteer at a daycare camp type deal, and it kinda shows through. This kinda ended up being more about the child than them w/ you. Sorry. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: My writing, kids, Mikey's part mentions future marriage, Donnie suggests adoption

Words: 400

Summary: ROTTMNT turtle's s/o becomes the new parent of a mutant turtle. Yay, responsibility...

Mikey:

Surprised, but willing to help.

Thinks it’s literally the sweetest thing you took in the small mutant.

Wants to make sure you’re okay with everything and don’t put too much pressure on yourself.

He’s really worried for the kid as well, and wants to make sure you’re both doing okay.

Supports you with the kid to the best of his ability.

Offers to bring you food more often so you can focus more on your job and taking care of the kid.

Tries his best to build a proper relationship with the kid.

Mikey loves you, and wants to possibly marry you in the future.

If this kid is now part of that future, he’s on board.

Donnie:

Is mostly indifferent to the new child in your life.

He thinks it was a noble act, but a vastly unnecessary one.

In Donnie’s mind, you don’t need a kid. You’re only a young adult and haven’t figured your life out yet.

Why adopt some random kid when there’s a yokai family out there waiting with possibly open arms?

Anyways, Donnie got yelled at for his hypocrisy because SHELLDON.

Shelldon is more excited than Donnie.

Donnie helps if you ask, but leaves you to it for the most part.

It’s your life, he doesn’t care too much what you do with it.

Plus, seeing you act sweet to the kid is nice.

Raph:

Gets happy when he meets the kid.

Thinks you’re an angel for taking care of the kid when you technically didn’t have to.

Brings it up to Splinter on accident.

Now you have a rat-man giving you childcare advice.

Helps with anything you ask.

He wants to spend time with you, and now you are constantly with the kid, so he spends time with the kid too.

Bonds with the kid pretty quickly.

Leo:

Is concerned, but helps where he can.

Like Donnie, he’s concerned because you’re still a young adult yourself, and he doesn't want you to get overwhelmed.

To help, he ends up becoming the kid’s dad more or less.

Gets really excited when the toddler laughs at one of his jokes.

Instant acceptance, will steal the child from you if possible.

Almost co-parents?

He likes the kid, and he likes you, so he has no problem helping out whenever he can.

Bribes Mikey to babysit so he can still go out with you alone though.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Just curious… what would it take for Skull to finally break through in the DCA au?

Here are a few of the situations that could allow Skull to surface.

Generally, Skull doesn't try to make a break for it. He's grown accustomed to being in the passenger seat, and he's usually too distracted feeling exactly what the other two are feeling to be thinking all that hard about escaping. Also, taking control is a lot of mental effort, considering how the other two will be fighting so hard to get him back down again... he sees/hears/feels exactly what they do, so he doesn't feel like he's missing out on much.

Breaks for it tend to happen when there's a dissonance in what Skull is feeling vs. what the current controller of the body is feeling.

High emotions. When tempers flare Sans and Red aren't concentrating on keeping him down, and his pushes are more successful. This can be disastrous, considering they all share a body/mind and what makes them upset tends to make him upset too- Skull might get so mad he needs to step in. Whoever was stupid enough to piss off the DCA might find themselves seeing a flash of purple before they mysteriously awaken in a hospital bed.

... That could also mean good high emotions, though. For example... the cute daycare assistant just arrived for work and everyone's happy to see her, and Skull suddenly desperately wants to be the one to greet her.

Equally, very mellow moments might allow him to slip through. If Red/Sans are tired, or very chilled out, they might not even notice he's pushed into the driver's seat. A kiss from a lovely assistant might cause a few seconds of flustered purple staring.

He sometimes gets out when Sans/Red are switching places. Especially if the switch was unexpected; ie, a light turning on without warning. He'd only really get a few seconds with that one, though.

If Skull gets extremely excited about something, his happy stims bleed through into Red or Sans' movements.

Any sign language Red/Sans use is them asking Skull to talk for them.

There's only one thing that would guarantee him coming out- the mishandling of a child by Red or Sans. This very rarely happens, because they share all the same childcare protocols and skills, but... at the end of the day, they were built to deal with different kinds of kid. Red's best with hyperactive toddlers, Sans is best with small tots and babies, Skull is best with kids with complex care needs. If a child is having a meltdown and Sans/Red aren't handling it properly, nothing can stop Skull. He notices when the lights are too bright. He notices when the snack textures are too much, when the blankets are too tight/not tight enough, when it's too loud, when there's too many kids and the social pressure becomes too great. He sees things Red and Sans don't see.

[unevenpatterns]

Fic idea: Zuko asks Hakoda for parental advice

Zuko is going to be a dad and he is terrified.

He needs someone to talk to desperately and Uncle isn't it. His uncle took good care of him, but to be honest he also let some really bad things happen. Zuko isn't sure he wants to base all of his future parental strategies on whatever proverbs uncle can spew.

So he arranged for a meeting with Hakoda. That's really the only dad he knows did a decent job. At least Katara and Sokka seem pretty happy with him and they both turned out okay.

Hakoda gets a formal invite from the Firelord and thinks it's about official business until the moment he's suddenly stuck in a room with a pacing Firelord, rambling on about childcare and parenthood while pulling at his hair.

Zuko is not listening to him and keeps coming up with more and more outrageous scenarios that could possibly happen to his kid and asking about how he should deal if his unborn baby grows up to become a mask-wearing vigilante.

Hakoda can't really see why that would be first on the list of his concerns and decides to keep handing the poor man cups of sake until Zuko is a blubbering drunk mess. If someone had asked him a few years ago whether he would be comforting the Firelord as he cried on his shoulder he would have laughed.

He stills laughs a bit, because although heartbreaking that Zuko can only ask someone outside his own country for advice on childrearing, it is also really funny how he does it. He pats his back and tells him reassuring nothings. No point in giving the actual advice until he calms down.

Not that Hakoda himself was much better when Kya got pregnant with Sokka, but back then it was Bato's job to get him drunk. He then proceeded to wake Hakoda from his massive hangover by pretending to cry like a baby and tell him that was how it was going to be from now on and better get ready. Joke was on him, with the amount of time Bato was handed one Hakoda's crying babies himself. But Hakoda decides to skip that part for Zuko's first parenting class. It will come soon enough by itself.

He hands a much calmer, sloppy drunk Firelord back to the guards and decides to try again tomorrow.

Zuko: But- but what if they grow up and decide to join the circus! We can't have a firelord clown Hakoda, we just really can't! Hakoda: Zuko do you even know how to change a diaper? Zuko, horrified: ...No. Oh Agni, I'll be a terrible dad. Hakoda: I'm sure you'll do fine son. Zuko, definitely not crying: Thank you. Hakoda: But maybe think about the things that are baby-related and stop panicking about what they're going to do as teenagers. That's a disaster no parent can stop anyway. Zuko, frowning: That doesn't make me feel better. Hakoda: My kids decided to travel the whole world with the Avatar. I can't work miracles.

[sidekickjoey]

March Madness | Steddie

Happy March Madness! Since we all know Steve is a big basketball fan/player, I figured it would be fun to dive into a bit of Eddie’s relationship w/ sports (and Wayne), and maybe how it eventually leads him to bond with Steve. This includes research I did on the record of the Indiana Hoosiers men’s basketball team that weirdly coincides well with the timeline? (Though I sort of fudged the date the Upside Down stuff happened in ‘86 to match the basketball season, shhh). I’ve also linked the final basketball game I mention, which you can watch the final minute of as you read for ~realistic ambience~ Enjoy! 🏀

Eddie hates sports, but he is religious about watching basketball with Wayne. 

It’s a ritual stemming back to the first night he spent at Wayne’s trailer in ‘76, when Eddie was 10. The cops had left late in the afternoon, dragging with them Eddie’s father Scott and his distraught mother Corrine, who had been too stoned to understand why she had to leave her son. As they drove one way, Eddie was driven another. He was taken all the way across Hawkins to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, where he was placed in the care of his next closest living relative, and perhaps the only relative willing enough to take Eddie in on such short a notice: Wayne Munson. 

Eddie did not know much about his Uncle Wayne. His parents were never the visiting type and were more than happy to distance themselves from anyone who might stop their reckless lifestyle, family included. The only thing they ever mentioned was that he was related to his dad, and that he was some sort of loner engineer. Eddie was terrified to be placed so suddenly in the hands of a near complete stranger like he was. Then again, the alternative of being with his parents in jail did not sound too enticing.

So, Eddie followed quietly. He listened to the cops and the childcare workers and shook Wayne’s hand when they said hello, because he supposed that was the right thing to do to keep him out of that mess. He supposed it would put him on Wayne’s good side, and that maybe staying out of trouble would make this easier to handle. Maybe he’d be okay, in the end.

Trouble, however, had a tricky way of appearing anyway in situations involving Eddie. It came this time in the form of a delayed trauma response, waking Eddie from his new bed and leaving him a shaky, sniffly mess. He sat for the better half of an hour unsure what to do, of what type of response he’d get if he left the room and let Wayne in on how he felt. He’d heard the man yelling at something earlier. What if he shouted at him? What if he could be just as cruel as Scott, or worse? Could he even take that risk? 

Imagine his immense relief when Wayne, upon seeing Eddie open the door, instead dropped everything to rush to ask if Eddie was okay, to ensure he hadn’t accidentally woken him up when he was yelling at the basketball game on TV. 

“This championship’s a big one,” he had explained with an apologetic smile, wiping Eddie’s tears with a scarf he’d discarded nearby. “Been over twenty years since the last one, and we’re undefeated. You know how it is.”

He didn’t. He had next to no knowledge of sports aside from horseshoes, and it was not like that one ever got heated enough to yell about. Not really. Still, he let Wayne believe he knew. He also let him push his scraggly hair out of his eyes, walk him to the pullout couch, and sit him down to his right with a can of root beer in hand, because something deep down told Eddie that Wayne would do the same no matter what he knew about basketball, or any other sport for that matter. Wayne was the kind who, awkwardness of their new situation aside, really did care about making him feel cared for and welcomed. He was good. Safe.

Even at 10, Eddie knew he would watch just about anything, even silly looking guys with too-big mustaches and too-short shorts with the word ‘Hoosier’ printed on them, for someone who made him feel safe like that.

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

Flash forward to 1981, and the Hoosiers were back in another championship. 

Eddie was now a sophomore in high school. He was far removed from his prior timidness and quickly making a name for himself as a boisterous, music loving, nerdy ‘freak’ of a human being to the general population. If he wasn’t getting himself in trouble and rebelling against authority for fun, he was risking his freedom selling ‘stuff’ for that Reefer Rick guy to get some extra cash for records.

It was driving Wayne up a wall.

He had tried stopping Eddie the first time he learned about it. Terrified Eddie’d end up hauled away like his parents, he had pleaded with the boy to reconsider, even offered him some of his own spending money, but Eddie was quick to assure him it would all be okay. He was Eddie, after all. Eddie, who swore to Wayne he would never be like his parents. Eddie, who turned down the chance to see his dad in jail because he did not want to face the man who chose crime over fatherhood. Eddie, who did extra chores around the trailer whenever he felt like he was overstaying his welcome.

Eddie was a good boy - a smart boy. Eddie would know when to stop and back down, when to run away from a bad deal. Not to mention, Wayne had been young and strapped for cash once. He remembered how much it sucked to not have money to see a movie and and how isolating it had been to turn down dates to save for dinner the next day. He didn’t want that life for Eddie. Eddie and his big heart deserved the world.

So, he made a deal with him. As long as he came home in time for the Hoosier games, safe and sound, Wayne wouldn’t ask questions about what he was up to. He’d worry, and Eddie would no doubt see that worry firsthand, but he’d trust him. He’d give him that freedom. True to his word, Eddie always obliged. The delicate balance remained, albeit with a bit more gray hairs on Wayne’s part.

This game day was no different. Five minutes before tip-off, Eddie came sprinting through the trailer’s door with a whoop and a near demolishing of their door-side plant - a tiny thing the boy was determined to keep alive despite not having a green bone in his body. Wayne, nursing a beer, merely rolled his eyes at the commotion and patted the seat beside him. He waited for Eddie to get comfortable and then handed him a root beer. The boy reeked of whatever he had sold, probably pot, but he looked happy next to Wayne with that root beer in hand. Wayne could live with that. He’d always live with that, if it meant being by Eddie’s side.

“Isiah Thomas should put up a good one today,” he said after a moment, patting his nephew’s knee. “Them folks at North Carolina won’t know what him ‘em.”

Eddie chuckled and watched Isiah make a practice shot with ease, the reporters waxing poetic about him to each other in their booth. “With your confidence, Uncle Wayne, any Isiah or Thomas would be unstoppable in battle.”

Wayne clinked his bottle against Eddie’s. Laughed. Gazed up at the ceiling feeling so lucky because Eddie was trying, really trying again, and that always was a good sign. 

They continued like this for the rest of the half, making mindless comments and jokes between Wayne’s ranting and raving at the screen. It was comfortable, easy, and incredibly domestic - everything they had built together over the past few years epitomized. 

And then, halftime came. 

Disney was holding a special halftime contest. If a little boy could make a basket all himself from the foul line, he and his entire family would get to go to Disney World on behalf of the Hoosiers, all expenses paid. The little boy understandably looked petrified on screen. He stood there, shaky knees and big ball in hand as his dad stood off to the side, looking like the court might just swallow him whole. His fear was not that much unlike Eddie’s had been when he first arrived. Eddie had held the same worried expression, screaming ‘I don’t want to mess this up’ with his eyes. It made Wayne want to hug the boy through the screen. It made Eddie, on the other hand, lean forward in his chair. Bite his nails. Actually pay attention, for the kid’s sake.

The crowd soon grew hushed. The announcers held their breath. And then, the little boy stepped forward.

“SCORE!”

“Oh my god he made it,” Eddie said once, twice, then a third time loudly as he shook Wayne’s arm nearly out of its socket. “The little guy did it, Uncle Wayne! Oh my god, I’ll be damned! He did it! His dad’s so proud, look!”

Sure enough, the little boy and his dad on the screen were jumping up and down as if they were the happiest people on earth. Then again, Wayne figured few people were as happy as his nephew was beside him, still shaking his arm like he’d won the lottery. He chuckled, a feeling of fondness overcoming him as his curls swung closer and closer to his face and the shaking grew more ridiculous.

“Heh, you’ll be proud too of your lil’ one if they win ya’ a free vacation someday, kid.”

It was a harmless comment, really. Wayne did not mean anything to come of it - maybe a distracted chuckle or two from Eddie. Maybe a witty comeback. He had not, however, expected the boy to freeze up on the spot. He did not expect the grip on his arm to fall, nor the light in his eyes to fade. He really did not expect him to retreat into himself, there but not fully there. Setting his beer down and lowering the TV volume, Wayne frowned. 

“You alright, boy?”

“Y-Yeah,” Eddie coughed. It hardly was convincing.

“I didn’t say something wrong now, did I? Did I remind ya’ about your pa?”

Shaking his head, Eddie set his root beer down on their coffee table right next to Wayne’s drink. His face paled a bit as he looked back at Wayne, and when he opened his mouth to speak, the faintest of tears welled up in his eyes. This most definitely was not nothing, Wayne decided then and there. His frown deepened, joined then by a few crinkles by his eyes.

“Uncle Wayne...what if...what if I didn’t...what if I never had a lil’ one to win a vacation?”

“You mean not have kids?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Wayne paused, glancing at the TV. A reporter was interviewing the little boy’s dad, the boy giggling on his shoulders. It was cute. Not a be-all, end-all, but cute. 

He shrugged.

“Well, then I reckon you, your lady, and I’d save a lot on toys, but we’d manage well enough. We’d still be happy. Was that what was eating you up?”

Eddie once again shook his head. He looked ready for the earth to swallow him whole, just like the little boy. It made Wayne’s heart clench.

“N-No,” he sniffled. “I, uh...what if I didn’t have a lady? O-Or a kid? What if I had a...guy?”

Now, Wayne was not stupid. He knew well enough that this was an option - had read the papers, met a few people like Eddie in the city. Admittedly, he had actually been worried that Scott might have kicked Eddie out for this reason when he’d gotten the call to take him in. Scott had never been one to hold an open mind, let alone an open relationship with his kid, and the little bits of Eddie’s personality that he had been able to see throughout the years had shown him he was a polar opposite from his father in many ways. Wayne had wondered what he would have done, if things had happened that way.

Watching Eddie’s tears fall harder before his eyes and seeing his hands shake where they once shook his shoulders in confidence, Wayne realized he had only one option on the table even back then. It didn’t matter what went on in Eddie’s private life. Just like the drugs, all that mattered was that Eddie was being safe and coming home to Wayne at night. Wayne could never, ever abandon him. He was his boy. His incredibly brave, incredibly loving boy who just wanted to be accepted. Who was he to be the one to turn away that love, to abandon him again, over something so inconsequential to his day-to-day life?

Placing his hand on Eddie’s knee, Wayne pushed the scraggly hair reeking of weed out of Eddie’s eyes and gave him a smile - a genuine, kind, scruffy smile only he could perfect.

“Like I said boy, we’d manage well enough. We’d still be happy.”

And really, it was as easy as that.

They embraced. Eddie thanked him. Wayne shoved his root beer back into his hand and teased Eddie about drawing the line at him ogling the opposing team, startling him into raucous laughter. Later, when the Hoosiers hoisted the championship trophy over their heads, they embraced again and did so as if nothing ever happened and they were meant to always be on that couch, just the two of them - just as they had, years ago. 

Winning the championship from the safety of their trailer was far from winning a trip to Disney. They also were far from a traditional father and son. But, they were happy, and like before, Wayne could live with that.

Gray hairs and all, he could always live with that.

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

Ten years after watching the Hoosiers make the national championship together with Eddie, Wayne had to wonder if he would ever get to do so again.

It was not the Hoosiers’ fault. They were not doing amazingly, but they also were not that bad that year despite losing their final regular-season game to No. 7 Michigan. They had a real shot in the tournament as an underdog and a bright future when it came to their upcoming class of men. It would be maybe two years tops before they were right back at the top fighting for the championship, Wayne was sure.

No, this time, it was because his nephew, his wonderful nephew who had become such a boisterous and interesting young man, was fighting for his life on some operating table.

Wayne had not been told exactly what happened. The Henderson boy, the one Eddie had been taking under his wing, had only spared him a few details before limping away to check on his friends. There was something about an animal attack and Eddie fighting them off before they could hurt others. Somehow the earthquakes made it all worse, and Eddie wasn’t doing too well. Wayne might not have believed it all with how strange the timing was, but the blood coating the Henderson boy’s shirt and Eddie’s guitar pick necklace was fairly convincing. Scarily convincing. 

So, Wayne stayed. Waited. Paced. 

He worried in the waiting room of Hawkins General, hoping for a miracle and for his boy to come walking out safe and sound to him, to tell him this was all a lot of hullabaloo over nothing. They had a game to catch that night, after all. Eddie couldn’t miss Cleveland State go down, couldn’t let his root beer get warm.

The thing was, it was not a lot of hullabaloo over nothing. It was real, and Eddie was not coming out of that ER anytime soon if the lack of word his way was an indication. And, as if that was not jarring enough of a thought, John Harrington’s boy, Steve, was the one to affirm so.

Wayne had heard a little about Steve through Eddie. Mostly, he had heard that the boy hung out with some real jerks. He never was the one causing the trouble apparently, but he was still caught up in that wrong crowd, still unable to find a real way to escape and forced to appear as a jerk to survive. Eddie swore things would be different, if he only could break free. Wayne had been skeptical - knew better than to think the son of known-asshole John Harrington could ever be kind and worth caring for.

This night proved him wrong.

He just looked kind. Unlike his father, he had a softness in his eyes that said he meant no harm and a cautiousness to his movements that screamed hyper-aware of other’s feelings. He called Wayne sir when he asked to sit by his side, and when he did finally make it down all the way, he made sure to ask if Wayne was okay - Wayne, of all people, who wasn’t sitting there wearing blood and something sickeningly grimy all over himself. It almost made Wayne laugh, in a tragic sort of way, that someone so young could be so selfless even as the world was crumbling around him and his insides threatened to escape him.

Instead, he nodded and gestured to the TV.

“You follow this season?”

Nodding, Steve rubbed at his neck. A bit of red was etched there too, to Wayne’s horror.

‘Yeah. Though, I uh...I missed the ending of the Michigan game. Did they win?”

“Nope,” Wayne said, a bit choked up. “Was a bad one, ‘m afraid.”

“Oh.”

Silence returned. 

It stayed, permeated like a thick cloud over the two of them and later the entirety of Eddie’s friend group, all the way through the ebbs and flows of the game. It was a much better game than the Michigan one thankfully, but the Hoosiers stood little chance with the lack of depth they had. They just were not on that night how they needed to be, did not have the spirit to make it happen. Sure enough, as the final seconds ran out on the clock, Cleveland State had them beaten by four. Their tournament run was done and short-lived, over too soon.

Just like Eddie, Wayne’s mind supplied cruelly. He turned to Steve, fighting tears.

“Maybe it’s a good thing Eddie missed this.”

Steve, blinking away his own tears, turned to Wayne confused and frowning. “Eddie watches basketball?”

“Does his best. He’s never been a big fan of the thing, but the Hoosiers are our team. We never miss a game, actually.”

“Oh. I had no idea.”

His hands began to rub at his thighs as if he were nervous. They gave a little shake too, if Wayne was not seeing things, and that just about broke Wayne’s heart. 

By then, he knew what fear looked like. He knew when he saw confidence crumbling, when uncertainty was rearing its ugly head. Eddie had made him a pro at spotting it. He’d arrived home terrified plenty of times, had used Wayne as a rock when he felt his cool slipping away.

Steve looked eerily similar.

And in that moment, with the Hoosiers leaving the court on the screen, Wayne realized that there was a reason. John Harrington’s boy was far more than John Harrington ever would be. Steve was a kind boy, a caring boy. A boy who at some point shook the chains of his father and grew to care for Eddie, for the town freak, in his own unfathomable way. A boy who chose to share a game alongside the freak’s uncle and ignore his wounds, all because he wanted to be around when they knew if he would be okay. 

Wayne did not know much, but he knew that meant something.

He definitely knew that it would mean something to Eddie, if he ever left that operating room.

So, not caring who saw, Wayne pulled Steve into his arms and refused to let go. Just sat there letting the boy decompress on his shoulder, showing him he was not alone in...well, whatever fearful nightmare they were in. He listened to his choked breaths, rubbed his back when those breaths turned into full sobs, and watched the ER door stay shut as reality washed over him. 

There was a chance Eddie would never wake to see another Hoosier game with him. 

There was a chance he would never get to bond with Steve over basketball. 

There was a chance it would be just him and Steve, watching games in the ER each year, hoping for good news and anticipating the worst between plays.

But, there was also a chance Eddie would wake and get to do everything he wished to do and more. There was a chance Eddie would one day raid his root beers again, laugh at how silly the Hoosier’s mascot looked, and maybe even nag Steve to explain what was going on in the games so Wayne didn’t have to. Maybe, they could all attend a game one day and just enjoy it. Live a little, as the saying went. 

Holding Steve tight, Wayne hoped an outcome like that would even be possible.

And then, he hugged tighter.

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

“Okay, this is the LAST popcorn I am buying. Freakin bottomless pits, the both of you.”

Giggling behind a strand of his hair, Eddie took the bucket of popcorn from Wayne’s hands and handed it over to Steve at his side. Steve readily took a handful before passing it back. He then loudly slurped his drink, making Eddie giggle.

“Hey, it’s hard work pretending to care in front of two basketball aficionados. I’ve got to fuel up if I ever want to look like I belong here.”

“Babe, I’m pretty sure that train passed like, an hour and a half ago when you walked in,” Steve teased with a mouthful of kernels. Eddie rolled his eyes and tossed a kernel at his nose. 

Steve, of course, tossed one back, starting World War III in section 20.

If it had been any other game with any other relative of his and his relative’s partner, Wayne might have raised his voice and gotten a bit upset at the two to his left causing a scene. However, it wasn’t. It was his nephew Eddie, finally fully healed from the disaster that nearly cost him his life, and his nephew-in-law (or, soon-to-be at least, if Wayne’s guesses were correct), Steve. The two were absolute menaces, but they were having fun. They were being kids. After everything they had seen and been through, and after almost losing them both, Wayne supposed they were allowed a few slightly annoying, borderline embarrassing moments of existence in public. 

Well, at least while the TV timeout went on.

“Way-neee,” Eddie cried after a few more kernels went his way, shoving Steve’s hat - a new Hoosiers cap he’d purchased earlier - down his face, “make him stop! He’s gonna waste all the good buttered stuff at the top of the bucket!”

“Should’ve thought about that when you made the first shot,” Steve grumbled back. The moment his hat was back in place, he was reaching into the bucket and teasing a handful of the buttery stuff in Eddie’s face. All efforts to retaliate were soon thwarted by Wayne though, courtesy of the buzzer blaring loud around them.

“I’ll toss the whole thing if you two make me miss the final minute.” 

Eddie, in true Eddie fashion, gasped. His hand also landed on his chest dramatically for emphasis, as if he needed it. “You wouldn’t!”

Eyeing the half-finished root beer in Eddie’s cupholder, Wayne shrugged and turned his eyes to the court. “Dunno. Might feel like tossing the drink too while I’m at it if you keep it up.”

“You WOULDN’T!”

“Shhhh Eds, they’re taking the court!”

And take the court, they did. The Hoosiers were neck-and-neck with the Syracuse Orangemen (”We’re playing oranges? What the hell?” “Shut up and eat your popcorn, Eddie.”). With the final few shots imminent and both teams tied at 70, everyone was on the edge of their seat. Syracuse had the ball, and with plenty of time to burn off the clock, it was possible they would render Indiana unable to answer their ‘winning shot.’ That was their plan, after all, and it almost came to fruition with a well-timed two-pointer with under a minute to go. 

Wayne gripped onto his arm rest. Steve nervously ate popcorn. Eddie nervously watched Steve eat popcorn.

And then, Indiana not only missed their shot, but gave Syracuse an attempt at making two more points. 

“Freakin refs hate us,” Wayne grumbled into his drink. He picked it up just as Eddie picked up his and sipped in harmony. Eddie considered making a joke about it until he noticed the grim look on both his and Steve’s face beside him. He sunk in his seat.

“Maybe they’ll help us out later.”

“Fat chance,” Steve moaned, leaning back in his chair. He ran his hand roughly through his hair. “They’ve been keeping this game close. Fuck, we’re gonna lose on stupid foul shots!”

“Fear not my king, there is still time,” Eddie offered gently with a tiny smile. He then faltered, turning to Wayne. “Right? It’s not like, over? They can still win?”

Wayne shook his head. “Still got time. Thirty seconds or so, I reckon.”

Eddie brightened. “Thirty seconds is plenty! It can still be okay!”

Sure enough, after the Syracuse player made his foul shots (and missed one, thank goodness), the Hoosiers were able to grab the ball and score, putting them at 73-72 with thirty seconds exactly. It was a surmountable hurdle, but the groans from Steve and Wayne both revealed to Eddie that it was not as hopeful as it seemed. Apparently, another round of foul shots were in order for Syracuse. Having to tie and force overtime was a lot less fun than scoring a two and calling it a championship. 

Eddie draped Steve’s jacket over their seats and reached for his hand beneath it.

“Maybe they’ll be okay,” he murmured, eyes hopeful. 

Steve gave Eddie a soft look. 

“HE MISSED!”

The two boys’ heads whipped toward the court in shock as the Hoosiers stormed down it, ball in hand. In seconds, they were standing alongside Wayne and the rest of the Hoosier faithful, shouting for the Hoosiers to ‘go.’ The clock ticked. The roar grew louder. The anticipation rose.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

“SMART SCORED!”

Before Eddie could process it, Wayne’s arms were tight around his body. He was being jumped around and shaken like a rag doll, while Steve yelled louder than Eddie had ever heard him yell at their side. Apparently, they were winning and might have won it all. Apparently, he had been right. 

He had been right. 

They were okay.

“WE WON?”

Well, sort of.

There was some issue with the clock that meant they might not have seen the end of the game just then. Eddie thought it was all a bit confusing - mumbled so from behind his drink. Wayne tried to parse it out for him, as did Steve, but Eddie just didn’t really know what they said. His brain was too caught up in the possibility that this might be a win. He wanted it so bad, craved it after everything that had gone down. He wanted to see his two favorite people happy. 

Patiently, he waited for them to give him an update he did understand. 

He got his answer when one second was placed on the clock.

“We’re gonna win it, Stevie,” he said in the quiet hush that fell over the crowd. “I can feel it. We’re gonna’ win.”

Glancing his way, Steve tried his best to smile. “I hope so.”

Eddie then turned to his uncle and bumped his shoulder. Wayne chewed at his lip before giving him his attention.

“We’re gonna’ win, right Uncle Wayne?”

It was small. It was nervous. It was incredibly like Eddie had sounded on that first night, when he had just wanted everything to be okay. Everything had turned out okay that night, in the end. It always somehow seemed to be okay in the end when it came to Eddie. 

So, without any idea of what might happened, Wayne gave him a nod and nudged him back.

“Sure, kid.”

Syracuse held the ball on the far side of the court. 

The Hoosiers held their breath, as did Eddie. 

They took their shot across the court, time stood still, and-

“IT’S OVER!”

Everyone suddenly was jumping in the stadium. Wayne, even with his aching knees, jumped in front of his foldable seat like a little kid. Steve, screeching like before, jumped against Eddie and shook him enough to almost knock him off his feet, screaming ‘WE WON, IT WAS OKAY’ over and over. And, even though it hurt his ears and he really feared falling into the people in the row in front of them, Eddie had never felt more alive or glad to let him do it.

There was beauty to that moment, after all. It really had all worked out. He really could be happy and enjoy a win for what it was. He could look to the ones he loved, see them happy, and not have to question it or worry when he might feel happy next. That was beautiful. 

Almost as beautiful as his happiness looked to Wayne, who Eddie knew deep down would do it all again just to get them there to experience that moment of stupid balls-in-laundry-baskets bliss.

Eddie hates sports, but he is religious about watching basketball with Wayne (and Steve), and after the Championship of ‘87? Well, he damn might always will be.

[leaderoffestivals]

Poltergeist Chapter 13

The Neverland of Grudges Ch 5

Natsume: The reason we’re pretending to be nursery school teachers to infiltrate Dancing Cranes Home is all for the sake of fulfilling the kitten’s wiSH, you sEE. 

Scenario Writer: Akira Season: Winter Characters: Sakasaki Natsume, Aoba Tsumugi

< On the noon of that day. Inside Dancing Cranes Home, in what’s commonly known as “The Nap Room”.>

Tsumugi: Ahh, this tea is delicious… … ♪

(Fufu. The children in the ‘Lion Group’ all seem to be sleeping soundly. How adorable their sleeping faces are!

I should take this chance to get some rest as well. 

Oh? It looks like Sora-kun has replied to my message on Hallhands.

Fufu.―Is that so~? You’re in the middle of battling aliens now?

Normally, you’d have to destroy their heads to defeat the enemy, but this time, you have no choice but to cut off their limbs instead, so it’s interesting in a brand new way――I see! 

It looks like he’s caught up in some strange game again―one that’s rather detrimental to his emotional development. It’s truly wonderful that he has an opportunity to kick up his heels and play to his heart’s content while we―his parents―are away!

Well, no. We’re not Sora-kun’s Papa and Mama at all, are we? It only feels that way―)

Natsume: SeriousLY? Why are you slacking off nOW, you delinquent childcare teachER?

Tsumugi: Oh, hello, Natsume-kun. I’m not slacking at all~. It’s nap time here now, just like how it is for you, right? 

There aren’t any tasks that need doing now, so it should be alright for us to take some time to relax, right? 

Tsumugi: Or, can it be you’re saying that anyone who is responsible for the caring for and raising of children―be it the parents, teachers or childcare workers―are never allowed even a moment’s rest? 

Are you suggesting they should always be slaving away tirelessly for the sake of the children, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year? 

That’s a level of dedication impossible for anyone unless they’re truly an angel or saint, you know?

Natsume: AhaHA. Your desperate attempts at making excuses now seem to suggest you’re actually feeling guilty about taking a break during work deep down insiDE, aren’t yOU? 

Senpai, you’re the type to sacrifice yourself whole-heartedly for the sake of serving others when left on your oWN, so it’s actually a good sign that you’re able to think about taking breAKS, nO?

Tsumugi: Sigh. Thank you so much for saying that~. I’m absolutely drained after spending just half a day caring for the Lion Group. 

Children are incredibly energetic, aren’t they? They aren’t aware of their physical limits at all, so they run, talk and play with all their might until their energy is completely spent. 

However, if they’re left unsupervised, they might suddenly collapse from exhaustion, and that’s why it’s important to ensure they take regular breaks―just like this. 

Natsume: ImpressiVE. You understand them so weLL, Senpai, it’s almost as if you’re speaking about yourseLF―

And since you’re essentially no different from these kiDS, Senpai, you should make a conscious effort to schedule rest time for yourself as weLL. 

Those who enter the workforce while clinging on to that childish sense of invincibility might find themselves working for unethical black corporatioNS(1), and still believing that they’re capable of doing anythiNG, end up throwing themselves selflessly into their woRK―

HowevER, if things go awRY, they’ll drive themselves straight to an early grave from overwoRK.  

Tsumugi: Yes, you’re right. We often glorify those who are earnest and hardworking, but behind those façades lie pitiable souls who have retained their child-like mentality even into adulthood―――

―Oh. Please do not broadcast this part of the conversation on the show, okay? Please cut and remove it. 

There are still adults who are desperately relying on that feeling of childish invincibility to live out there. Those words would only destroy their fantasies.

Natsume: FuFU. IndeED, there are many people who have based their entire sense of identity and self-worth around being a “diligeNT, serioUS, and obedient chiLD”―

Believing that by living like the protagonist of a stoRY, they’ll eventually reach their happy endiNG… … Even though that’s not how it works at aLL. 

Tsumugi: To tell the truth, we really have no right to be speaking about others like this, you know~. After all, we are still calling ourselves magicians at our age. We are all fellow sufferers of Chuunibyou (2). 

Natsume: UgH. Who are you calling a ChunnibyOU?

Natsume: … … AnywAY. Since you’re free right nOW, Senpai, I’d like you to help me with some researCH. 

Tsumugi: Oh, I’m not free at all, you know~? I’ve got a really important task right now, and that is to watch over the cute faces of all the children sleeping here. 

According to what Narukami-kun shared yesterday, the children here at Dancing Cranes Home suddenly started wailing and throwing up for reasons yet unknown. 

We will need to keep watch over them closely, since we’re unaware of what happened to trigger “that” in this uncertain situation. 

Natsume: And that’s precisely what I’m working on heRE―I want to uncover the root cause of thAT, tOO. 

I’ve been keeping my eye on Dancing Cranes Home for quite a while nOW―

AnD, granting Mikejima-senpai’s wish for a MaM-like jOB, weLL, that just happened to be an unintended extRA, so to speAK. 

Tsumugi: Ahh, I see how it is now. So, that’s the reason why Mikejima-kun only came to join us later yesterday, huh?

That would mean you originally intended to carry out this job on your own, Natsume-kun―and the decision to involve Mikejima-kun was something that was made later, right? 

Natsume: YeS. There were other circumstances which I did not foresee as weLL――

LiKE, I thought no one would be willing to appear in a job that required looking after childrEN, so it was really unexpected that Senpai and Kaminari-san would sign up to come on board tOO. 

Tsumugi: It just so happened I was free since I didn't go home for the New Year Holidays. 

However, I was really surprised by Narukami-kun’s decision as well. I really thought Narukami-kun would reject this job in solidarity with the rest of Knights, after all~

Natsume: WeLL, perhaps Knights had suffered some serious set-backs during SS, which resulted in Kaminari-kun having various heavy thougHTS―

LiKE, “We can’t keep going on like thIS”, or “We won’t be able to keep winning using the same old tired methoDS~” and so oN.

Tsumugi: Oh, I see! By the way, was Anzu-chan’s participation part of the plan as well? 

It’s a very unusual thing for her to put herself front and centre in the spotlight, so her inclusion in this programme was something I did not anticipate.  

Natsume: I did not anticipate that there would be cameras rolliNG, eithER. For thAT, I can only blame Mikejima-senpai―or I should sAY, that meddling President of ours for throwing a wrench into my plans and interfering with this projeCT.  

I’m finding it next to impossible to move around freeLY, no thanks to hIM. It’s caused me no end of troubLE. 

Natsume: AnywAY, to answer your previous questiON, it was totally part of the plan to have the kitten join this project as weLL―

BecauSE, while Mikejima-senpai is supposed to be the star of this project on the surfaCE, the kitten is the real star behind the scenES. In faCT, I should say she is the one this entire project has been set in motion fOR. 

Tsumugi: Hm? What do you mean by that? 

Natsume: The reason we’re pretending to be nursery school teachers to infiltrate Dancing Cranes Home is all for the sake of making the kitten’s wish come trUE, you sEE. 

—————-To be continued——————-

Chapter 12 / Chapter 14

Translator’s Notes: 

Natsume says ブラック企業 (Burakku Kigyou) or black business. It’s a Japanese term used to describe companies / businesses that exploit their employees. General characteristics include (1) imposing extremely long working hours and quotas on workers, and (2) rampant unpaid overtime and power harassment. 

Chunnibyou or 中二病, literally 8th-grader syndrome. It’s a colloquial term used to describe early teens (14 year olds) who have grandiose delusions/ feelings of invincibility/ all knowing / possessing hidden powers and secret abilities i.e. ninjas/wizards. Of course, this manifests in people of all ages.

This has not been proofed, so if there's any feedback, please DM me.

[dysco-lymonade]

What about a silly 3 men and a baby type fic except it's just Clexa somehow getting an infant forced on them out of the blue and then falling in love while figuring out how to care for the kid. Or maybe you could do one where one gets a letter not meant for her and it's from the other. The rest is up to you😂

I will be affectionately referring to this AU as 2Girls1Baby until I think of, or am recommended a new title.

This is a work in progress, but I wanted to give you a little snippet, Anon, because this AU is living in my head rent-free now.

A little back story. Raven and Anya have an 18 month old baby, and they have to go out of town. Their last resort for childcare is leaving their daughter, Tris, with Clarke and Lexa.

Clarke and Lexa have been roommates for a while now, really only knowing each other through Anya and Raven. Anya is Lexa's sister; Raven is Clarke's best friend. They live together, but don't really associate aside from that.

“So what now?” Clarke looks at Lexa, perplexed.

“Well, I guess we'll just keep her alive until Monday. That won’t be too hard… Right?” Lexa searches for comfort in Clarke’s gaze, receiving nothing of the sort.

“Anya is your sister! This is your problem.” Clarke gestures toward the 18 month old in the car seat currently chilling on their living room floor, kicking her feet at a dangling raccoon that is attached to the handle of her carrier.

“Raven is your best friend!” Lexa scolds in a hushed voice, not wanting to disturb the currently occupied toddler.

“Blood is thicker than water, right?” Clarke scoffs and walks away, to close herself up in her bedroom as per usual.

With a heavy sigh, Lexa cautiously approaches the toddler. “Hey, Tris.” She mumbles, “I’m your Aunt Lexa, we’re going to be great friends.” Suddenly, Tris realizes that neither of her mothers are within sight.

A wail that Lexa is surprised didn’t shatter their windows, falls from Tris’s mouth.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, no. Shh- Shh, it's okay sweetheart. You’re okay. Aunt Lexa’s got you. We’re going to have so much fun…” Lexa searches around the living room, desperate to find something to occupy this kid’s attention. Anya had warned her that they were trying to limit her time with electronics, so she wouldn’t become reliant on them. The TV was out of the question.

Lexa whips her phone out of her pocket, scrolls through Spotify, and comes across a Disney playlist. She turns it on, and connects the phone to the bluetooth speaker in the living room.

“HAKUNA MATATA WHAT A WONDERFUL PHRASE” comes out entirely too loud, and only makes Tris cry harder.

“Shit, shit, shi- shoot, shoot, crap, dang it.” Lexa silences her phone. “Okay, maybe a bit more preparation for that, eh? Okay, so, find the speaker… where is it? Oh, there it is!” She locates the bluetooth speaker next to the television. “Now to turn the volume down, huh? That was wayyyy too loud. Aunt Clarke must have been in the zone the last time she was painting.” Lexa continues to ramble to herself, not realizing until she pulls her phone back out that Tris has stopped her wailing.

“Oh. You’re a conversationalist, are you?” She asks with a cheeky grin towards the 18 month old. She puts on the Disney playlist, on a low volume for background noise.

“Did your Mamas tell you the shi- crap I’ve been going through at work?” She waits a beat, Tris looks at her with big, bloodshot eyes, from her crying fit. 

“No? Okay, so let me just tell you. My boss,” she clears her throat and takes on a comedic Renaissance accent, “Executive Chef, Charles Pike, total idiot,” Lexa then resumes her regular speaking voice, “decided today that he was going to have a five course meal planned for the Water’s wedding tomorrow.” She scoffs.

Tris just babbles along while kicking her raccoon and eyeing Lexa suspiciously. 

“Exactly, that’s what I said. And then Pike has the gall to walk over to me and ask me to get it done by the end of the day, like I don’t already have 42 things on my plate. Because this man has made weaponized incompetence into a fuc-freaking art form.”

“Truck truck truck?” Tris all but screams at Lexa.

“You’re totally right, I should’ve told him to walk in front of a truck.”

"Truck, truck, TRUUUCK” Tris starts to wail.

“Truck? Where is the truck?” Lexa starts to rummage through her diaper bag. “Oh god, WHERE IS THE TRUCK?!”

In her panic, Lexa doesn’t realize that Clarke had emerged from her bedroom, and is currently walking towards Tris with a small yellow Tonka truck in her hands.

“Is this what you want, baby girl?” Clarke coos.

Lexa’s head snaps to attention and finds Clarke currently knelt next to her niece, shaking the truck slowly in front of her face. Tris has stopped crying, and currently has her full attention on Clarke’s hands.

“Clarke?” 

“Don’t mention it, I was just tired of hearing you talk about work.” Her roommate quips back, and then starts making vrooming truck noises to occupy the toddler.

“You don’t have to do this, Clarke. I am more than capable of-”

She’s cut off by Clarke, “Babysitting should be about more than just surviving, don’t we deserve better than that?”

Lexa gapes at her, unsure how to respond. 

“I might be a hypocrite, Lexa. But you’re a liar. You have no idea what you’re doing taking care of a baby.” Clarke jests with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t lie to everyone, not you.” She mumbles quietly.

“Well, if you care about me, and Tris, you’ll go make a bottle for her. I think she’s hungry.” Clarke retorts, a bit softer than she had been previously.

[eggs-can-draw]

tell me more about the izuru kokichi family au im so curious about it !!

hee hee hah hah tee-hee this got a bit long whoopsie. listen to Never Love An Anchor by the crane wives for full effect.

OK GAMER BEFORE I GET INTO THIS CAN OF WORMS I GOTTA ESTABLISH SOMETHING. This takes place in a larger au that I usually either call "The AU" or in select cases, "The Naegamigiri Au". The concept is pretty simple (v3 kids are the kids of the thh survivors and sdr2 cast) but I ended up playing with a few elements as well. (like v3 plot integration) The big important detail for Kokichi and Kamukura: The tragedy (specifically the gap of time between udg and sdr2) is longer by a few years. This is because of one simple single thing. A little guy. Kokichi. BACKSTORY through a convoluted course of events that are honestly as Up To Interpretation as I'm legally allowed, Kamukura and the trans woman of all time (and cowgirl), lovingly dubbed Kokichi MoM (who only exists because I wanted her to be a mysterious 3rd party entity, who she is is completely up to interpretation but the cowgirl part is important) did that thing consenting adults do and suddenly Kamukura has a child. So it's the lovely dynamic of "oh god I actually have something I CARE about can I really go through with this" and "hi I am five years old". Kid who has spent his entire life on the run and loves his dad very very much. He believes its selfish because he loves kokichi but doesn't really understand that he loves kokichi, so he sees his own attachment as irrational and therefore bad for both himself and Kokichi. Every childcare talent he has is telling him he can't provide a good life for this kid in their current situation but despite that he stalls because fuck he loves this kid he wants to keep this kid. He's so conflicted but decides maybe fixing the lobotomy could put this kid in better hands. and then we have hajime who has only been out of the nwp for maybe a week or two and suddenly there's a child on his doorstep who is supposedly his. (but a part of him already knew that) so yeah. it makes me a little insane.

[romanovsonelastdance]

I think very hard about your blog sometimes.

I don't think you realize just how very cool I think you are /gen /p

I would always love to hear more about your little hobby (I'm assuming it is a hobby and not a job, but regardless, it's very cool)

Like how did you get started in collecting? How long have you been doing it? How do you store everything? Do you scan/photograph everything yourself? If you had to choose what are some of your favourite pieces?

Thanks so much! I'm really glad people enjoy this blog; no one in my off-line life is all that interested in my postcards so it's a lot of fun for me to share them with people who DO enjoy them and understand why I get excited about, say, an OTMA 1916 postcard or whatever!

I've been interested in the Romanovs since I was a teenager, and I used to check eBay regularly for 'new pics,' but I didn't really have the money to BUY any of them back then. Likewise in college I didn't have any money to spare, either! I only bought a few things here and there that were cheap. I probably had like, maybe 10 items total from that era.

But a few years ago I moved in with my brother to help with childcare for his new baby, and part of the deal was that I didn't have to pay rent since I was helping take care of the baby. So suddenly I had money and I started to buy some of the postcards I found of my history people.

At first I intentionally avoided NAOTMAA because I a) understood they were more expensive and b) I knew myself well enough to know that I would get REALLY invested in it. But then I bought an OTM 1901 card because "well it's really cheap." And THEN I found a Maria and Anastasia 1914 card. I had seen the pic before in books and online, but when I got the card in hand I was shocked how CLEAR the postcard was and that was the end of of my resistance! It's SO COOL to have nice, clear images of these pictures I was used to seeing as pixelated jpegs on the internet. That was about six or seven or seven years ago?

Now I have FIVE binders full of postcards. I recently had to divide my NAOTMAA stuff into two of them, and then one for Other Romanovs, one for the Greek Royal Family and one for Other Royals (mostly British, Romanian, and Belgian, with a decent handful of Italian and Swedish).

I moved out of my brother's place awhile ago because 'the baby' is now old enough to go to school and they don't need me to babysit as much, but I also got promoted at work (I'm a librarian, FYI), so I still have some money to spend on my little hobby. I hadn't been buying as many things because I already have so many so that it's harder to find ones I don't already have. . .

. . . until a seller on eBay started selling off a mainly OTMA collection, and now I'm buying too much a lot again!

[jawritter]

Story time?

You guys know when I have a tough time dealing with things, certain things going on in my life, I write about it to vent it, and it works for me. Well, I need to vent for a minute. I’m not looking for sympathy or anything like that, I just need to get this out on paper to work through it. So, here I go. 

When I turned 18 years old, I went to school to get my CNA, and then immediately started working as a homebound caregiver, or as we call it down here in the south, a sitter, for the disabled and elderly. Basically, I come in and sit with them during the day and help them feed themselves, clean themselves, clean their homes for them… basically I do for them during the day what normal people would have done for themselves if they were able. I even go shopping for them/with them, if need be, and take them to doctor’s appointments as long as they are able to move around some on their own, and are not on hospice, (end of life ‘comfort’ care). 

When I got pregnant with my first child, I decided not to do it anymore, and just stay home with the kids until they were old enough to go to school instead of paying for childcare while my husband and I both work. Financially it just makes more sense for me to stay home. Also, while this job is not a nursing or doctor’s position, it’s stressful and emotionally taxing. When you sit with someone day in and day out, whether you want to or not, you get attached to these people, and when their lives are over, and they are no longer here, sometimes it seriously feels like you're losing your own family. 

Recently, and some of you may remember me talking about it a little, I started up again when both my girls went back to school. I like to take care of people, it’s just my calling, it’s what I do; no matter how hard it is. My first patient that I was sitting with made their transition from this life to the life here after (whatever that might be), and I took a few weeks break before I allowed myself to be assigned with another patient. 

This is where the part I’m struggling with comes in, so here we go…

Yesterday, I met my next patient. 

They told me his name was Austin. That he’d been disabled after an accident offshore, and that he now needed a sitter, seeing as he was a single male, who was currently unable to walk and take care of himself. (I’m paraphrasing obviously for privacy reasons and to make this understandable for people that do not work in this line of work.)

I’ve taken care of men before, that’s not something that’s bother me and never will. Still, there’s one thing that got to me when I read it in his chart, it’s the fact that he is only 43 years old. 

I’ve never had to take care of someone that young. Most of the time, when we step in, the patient is in the twilight stages of life so to speak. This guy, well, they warned me when they gave me the file, might be a patient of mine for a LONG time to come. 

The accident only happened less than three months ago, and he’s in physical therapy currently, (which is something I will have to take him to). But he can’t bathe, cook, or clean for himself at all currently. He only is mobile, basically above the waist for the time being, and with no immediate family that lives close by, if he wants to stay in his home, this is his only option. 

I met him for the first time yesterday. I go in today when the transport drops him back at his home from the nursing home (that’s where they had him for the beginning of his physical therapy after leaving the hospital), and that’s when my work begins. I sit with him Monday - Friday, 6:30 AM to 7 PM in the evenings. (Another CNA is scheduled for his night shifts and weekends unless we need to swap up for some personal reason). 

He’s so handsome, and young, and it’s not fair that his life has suddenly come to a screaming halt. It’s just not fair.

He’s still learning to cope with it too. He’s not really opened up to me yet, and that’s gonna be a challenge. He’s not happy with the situation he’s found himself in. (Who would be?) This might be the toughest thing I’ve worked on to date. 

I’m still gonna write, I’m still gonna be on here updating as much as I can. But please understand if updates come a little slowly at first, or if it takes me a little while to answer ask or something back. I’m not ignoring you, I’m just working, and I’ll be on as soon as I can. 

Okay, I’ll get off my pity party and get ready to go to work now, and if you made it this far in his too long vent session, thank you, you’re awesome! 

--Jen

[spookyshipperfics]

Viewing Experience

Find it: a03 / Fandom: The X-Files / Rating: Teen & Up

Tagging @today-in-fic

What is it About? Mulder and Scully have a scary movie night that inspires them to reveal their feelings. Basically, the ’90s version of “Netflix and Chill.”

Read it: It was horror, plain and simple. The crying. The screaming. If Scully was being dramatic, she’d say that God had forsaken this place, had forsaken them. Their office had burned down. They’d been assigned to Kersh, and the ensuing background checks were like monotonous thorns in their sides.

It’s how they ended up here, in an overstuffed daycare in Virginia on a hot summer day. Mulder had somehow been saddled with holding a toddler, and Scully was waiting for paperwork that may never come. Her gaze landed on her partner right as vomit exploded onto his face. It was a pale green like fresh-cut grass turned vile.

Peas. It had to be fucking peas, she thought.

She was sure her mouth hung open, her shock apparent for all to see. Mulder’s eyes were narrow; his lips twisted into a grimace of disgust. The green goo dripped down his face onto his white dress shirt and suit jacket—an Armani one, of course.

“Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry,” the daycare owner gushed, rushing across the small room filled with toddlers and crying babies. “I shouldn’t have asked you to hold her. That was unprofessional of me.” The woman retrieved the unhappy toddler from Mulder, who was now holding the child at arm’s length like a bomb, rigged and ready to explode.

“It’s no problem,” Mulder replied, but he was already backing away, excusing himself to the bathroom where Scully suspected he’d be muttering under his breath and cursing Kersh for sending them on this poor excuse of an assignment in the first place.

As Mulder and the daycare owner retreated to take care of their respective messes, one of the childcare workers approached Scully with an apologetic smile. “Here’s that paperwork you were looking for,” she said, handing her a manilla folder. “Oh, and extend my apologies to your partner.”

The fresh air and sunlight were a nice change from the chaotic daycare. Crying leaked through the doors, and Scully hoped it was just the heat getting to the kids. It was certainly getting to her. Mulder grumbled from behind, and she guessed it was getting to him too. That and his encounter with a puke-happy toddler.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m just great, but my dry cleaner might not be quite as happy.” The sarcasm rolled off his voice with a thickness that made her uneasy.

As they approached the car, she took the opportunity to look at him, really look at him. He’d done the best he could in the daycare bathroom. His face was clean, but his shirt was still stained around the collar. Mulder was right–his dry cleaner wouldn’t be happy.

His jaw was clenched, eyes blackened with aggravation. The expression had become all too frequent since they’d been booted from the X-Files. A man like Mulder wasn’t cut out for repetitive tasks. Background checks and busy work were eating away at him. It seemed he was always antsy these days. His patience slowly slipping away from him with the rest of his soul.

His tension was like a contagion. A cold Scully didn’t want but always seemed to catch. They were so interwoven; his pain was her pain. Something needed to change. She knew what she wanted. It was there, simmering under the surface—a desire she could never seem to say out loud.

“At least we got what we came for,” she offered.

“You mean evidence that the local daycare wasn’t, in fact, a front for a methamphetamine cooking operation? I’m not surprised.”

“Muld—”

“Kersh knew this was a waste of time. It’s why it was assigned to us.”

“I guess we can be grateful it was an easy case.”

He huffed. “The only thing I’m grateful for is that you weren’t taken away from me as punishment too.”

Their eyes locked, and her knees suddenly felt weak. The idea that they could be separated at any time felt like a guillotine hanging above their necks. Every day they silently prayed Kersh wouldn’t pull the rope and send the shiny, silver blade careening down.

“I don’t think I could do this without you,” he added. “Any of it.”

And there it was again. That low tug of desire. That nagging, frantic feeling to tell him what she desired. His mouth against hers. Slow and deep.

They got into the car and drove off in silence. It wasn’t until they reached the freeway that she dared to glance at Mulder. She replayed the incident in the daycare. Her composed partner covered in half-digested peas. Mulder barely concealing his disgust as he held the toddler at arm’s length. He could be so dramatic at times. She’d seen him handle biohazard bags with more grace, for crying out loud.

Scully felt wild giggles rising in her throat. The absurdity of their life, the tension, the stress all spilled out into laughter that would have made a hyena cringe.

“What?” Mulder asked, his eyes bouncing from her to the road.

She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something. You’re acting like you have front-row seats at a comedy show.”

“The peas,” she uttered between giggles. “The peas just reminded me of The Exorcist, that’s all.”

His lips quirked into a smile. “I almost wish that had been the case. Then, at least, our involvement would’ve made sense.”

“Are you implying you’d rather encounter demons than run a simple background check?” she questioned, her laughter finally settling.

“That’s a tough one, Scully,” Mulder began. “Facing demons from The Exorcist or taking orders from Kersh are both pretty awful choices. A coin flip might be in order.”

“Hey,” she said in faux outrage. “You better not be insulting The Exorcist. It is one of my—”

“Favorite movies,” he finished. “I remember.”

She smiled. Of course, he remembered. Leave it to Mulder to catalog a throwaway statement she’d made five years ago in passing. He barely remembered her birthday. The big stuff didn’t seem important to him, but the little things were his specialty. He knew how she took her coffee. He knew she added bee pollen to her yogurt. Just like he knew teasing her about it would get under her skin because he was right; she was a scientist and should know better.

“I have it, you know,” Mulder announced, breaking her thoughts and redirecting her gaze from the passing trees back to him.

“Have what?”

“The Exorcist. I have it on VHS.”

“And here I thought your videos only included one particular genre. The kind with big-breasted blondes on the front.”

“We could watch it,” he said, ignoring her sly remark. “Tonight. Together.” A second passed, maybe two. “It’s Friday,” he added as if that would strengthen his cause.

It did.

“I’ll be over at 7,” she responded and went back to staring out the window.

They sat at opposite ends of the couch. The room was dark apart from the glow of the fish tank. Scary movies were always scarier in the dark, Mulder had insisted.

As The Exorcist began, so did the game. It was one they often played. The name? How close they could get to each other without being too obvious.

Mulder started it (he usually did). He rose to get them beers. When he returned, he sat closer. He repeated the move when the pizza arrived thirty minutes later. Handing her off a slice, he plopped down only a foot away. She got the next round of beers, closing the space and bringing them inches apart. By the time the movie reached the hour-and-a-half mark, their thighs were touching.

Mulder stretched his arms above his head, and in a moment of excited horror, she realized he was using it as an excuse to wrap one around her. He was about as suave as a teenager, but that was okay. She felt like a teenager, too, with her heart beating wildly in her chest.

She was a mess of hormones and nerves. Still, when Mulder pulled her closer, feigning terror after the head-spinning scene, she let him. And when he jokingly swore to protect her (From what, Mulder? If anything, I’d be protecting you), she sunk into him, placing her head on his upper shoulder.

It was the closest they’d ever been—surely a new high score for their unspoken game. And when the movie ended, neither of them pulled away. For all Mulder knew, she was extremely interested in the end credits.

Mulder cleared his throat. “So, what did you think of the… movie?”

“What do I think of the movie I’ve seen a half dozen times before?” At some point, her hand had found a home on his chest. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, but it didn’t stop her fingers from fidgeting with his T-shirt. “I don’t think it should shock you that I enjoyed it.”

“Hmm. Yeah, I guess I just never really talked to you about the movie before.”

It clicked, then. The inflection of the word. The way it sounded round and slow on his tongue. He wasn’t asking her for a film review. He was asking her thoughts on him… on this… on the situation that had her snuggled against him on the couch in a very unpartnerly way.

“Oh,” she gulped. “The movie.” She paused. Collecting her thoughts was difficult with two beers in her bloodstream and the butterflies in her stomach. “Well, Mulder, the movie was familiar but also a little scary.”

“Scary, huh?”

She shrugged. “Not in a bad way, more like in a I’m-scared-of-ruining-things kind of way… with the movie, I mean. I wouldn’t want my fear to tarnish your… um… viewing experience.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t think you could ever ruin my viewing experience, Scully. I think you and I could handle whatever viewing experience was thrown at us.”

The hand that had been playing with his T-shirt seemed to have a mind of its own. It had slid lower to his stomach. She could feel his abs through the thin cotton and suddenly wanted to slip her hand underneath the fabric. It would be so easy to just—

“So, you like it then… the movie?”

“I like it,” she affirmed just above a whisper.

“Just like it?”

Her heart was pounding wildly. They were so close, she wouldn’t be surprised if Mulder could hear it. Just say it, her brain screamed. For once in your life, just say what you feel. “A part of me would even say that I love the movie.”

His hand found her jaw then, and he tilted her head to look at him. “Love is a strong word, Scully.”

She wondered briefly if she looked normal. If Mulder could tell that she was a gelatinous pile of goo beneath his fingertips like something out of another horror film. “I told you already, Mulder. This is one of my favorite movies.”

He kissed her then. Slow and deep. The way she’d fantasized about him doing earlier in the car and countless times before. His tongue entered her mouth only after he had thoroughly explored her lips. He tasted like beer and pizza and something so very Mulder. The combination had warm. And when his hands began to roam her body, it had her blazing hot.

As he eased her backward onto the cushions, he broke the kiss. “Did you say, ‘ONE of your favorite movies?’”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Mulder. You know you’re my favorite.”

His eyes crinkled with a smile. God, she wanted to kiss him again. “There are no other movies,” she assured him, and then she pressed her mouth against his as the VCR whirred.

*I normally don't post my entire fics on Tumblr, so this is a first. Comments and kudos on ao3 are always much loved

[ikemenomegas]

ooh satoru and myy oc's life with their baby is an interesting thing to think about. the thought of a tiny infant testing the stamina and ability to stay awake with less than adequate sleep of the honored one and his partner is funny to think about and its even funnier to think about their daughter in her toddler years if she's as hyperactive and spoiled as satoru. also, satoru is probably expected to work after his leave right? would that mean that the responsibility of child raising would fall unto myy oc and clan attendants?

I'm glad you like the concept anon and the images you're putting in my head are just too cute.

It is funny because Satoru is canonically used to not sleeping much and all of a sudden his body is pushing him to sleep twice as much haha. The RCT he uses on his brain means he doesn't need sleep as much, and he's also always busy. Myy oc too actually doesn't get super physically tired because of the technique specifically using outside energy to do things. However, there's something objectively very draining about dealing with a baby, plus recovering from pregnancy and feeding the child and worrying about the child...

I love the idea of baby girl being a menace to society before she can even keep her eyes open for more than an hour or so. Tinniest Gojo defeats special grade and first grade sorcerer at the same time! Grouchy sleep-deprived Gojo is always very cute, but it absolutely means he doesn't suffer foolishness, he can't stand it wasting time..

Since she doesn't have the Six Eyes, she's not as revered as her father, and so she's not as uselessly spoiled, but she is definitely wicked smart with pretty consistently high energy levels, aka she's the kind of kid that seldom naps once she's past the always-sleeping baby stage. With Satoru she'll be more hyperactive, because she and her papa feed off one another's energy, but with myy oc, she's usually a little more even-tempered, also because myy oc is the one who will teach her to calm down.

Satoru is expected to work, and he was raised to be a sorcerer, so it's likely he'd miss fighting if he suddenly didn't need to do it anymore, and he'd never be satisfied letting myy oc face danger alone while he's home raising baby girl. However, I do think he'd only ever have children if he's reasonably confident things are getting better in the sorcerer world, so he's not as busy by the time little gojo comes around.

I don't think he'd care for leaving her with attendants all the time, but he might have someone he once trusted to help take care of his child, which would help take pressure off of myy oc, especially since I don't think it would be entirely easy for myy oc to give up fighting either.

Satoru is pretty attentive to his kid's needs, and enjoys training her in the ways of sorcerers, she definitely has powers, probably some other technique than Limitless, maybe one of the newer family techniques. Myy oc is less responsible for childcare for their child than when they were raising Fushiguros together, mostly because Satoru has matured by the time they have a kid together, so he understands better what it means to sacrifice time and attention for a child.

[peachypede]

Small update. Daphne, his heracross, is now a regular colored Heracross because I wanted to give Pecha a shiny Heracross. (Can you tell my favorite shiny is Heracross kfgjsdkf)

Voice Claim: TBD

Battle Theme: Battle! Bug Type Expert by Maxo

Height: 6'2" (187 cm)

Weight: 245 lbs (111 kg)

Birthday: May 1st

Current Residence: Nimbasa, Unova

Likes: Bug types, Camping, Hiking, Foraging, Wilderness survival, wrestling pokemon, seeing his kids succeed in any way, Educating others on how to properly care for bug-types, learning new things about bugs!

Dislikes: hatred and mistreatment of bug-types, professors who act like they know everything

Fears: His kids ending up in a relationship that hurts them

Born in Hammerlocke, Galar to emotionally distant but wealthy parents, Calhoun often spent much time in the wild area befriending wild pokemon. He particularly became hyper fixated on bug types to the point that when he grew up, he decided to work towards being a pokemon professor (which required apprenticeship under a professor) but also wanted a doctorate in entomology (which requires traditional education) so Calhoun would juggle a lot of time between apprenticing for Professor Magnolia in Postwick then commuting to school back in Hammerlocke.

Though Proffessor Magnolia tried to convince him to continue her study on dynamax phenomena and his parents attempted to force him into the family's big investment business, Cal's heart longed for travel instead. When he graduated at 28 with a doctorate, he would leave Galar to go studying bug types abroad. It was during these travels that he would meet a woman in Unova named Persim Rodriguez. They would very quickly get married and soon after had their first child, a daughter they named Pecha.

Calhoun would become confused by Persim's sudden change in behavior after Pecha was born. Instead of kind, fun, and loving she would become easily frustrated with him to the point of screaming. Not only that, she'd rather leave most of the childcare to either Cal or her parents, Trueno and Leppa. At first, Cal thought that this was just due to the stress of becoming a new mother so he pushed through, but the behavior continued to the point where Persim began actively abusing Cal and neglecting her children. It would come to a head when Persim left the two children in the car during a summer day. Cal was quick to divorce Persim and gained full custody of his children and the three of them would move in with Trueno and Leppa, who had disowned their daughter and offered to help Cal raise the kids.

Cal embraced the new freedom he had with his kids and would take them on lots of trips. He loved having them with him when he was studying bugs instead of them being stuck inside at home. However, once they were teens, Leppa would approach Cal and tell him that they should attend school. It was difficult for Cal, but he decided to enroll them in Naranja-Uva Academy and, being a bit of a over-protective father, he also applied to be the biology teacher there and would stay as the biology teacher until Rawst graduated.

With his children all grown up, Cal suddenly found himself a bit aimless. He would help them through the tough times both of them would have attempting to find what they wanted to do but Cal couldn't help but realize he was in the same boat. Taking a note out of Rawst's book, Cal decided to start not only a youtube channel but a small bug type foster center as well where he would make youtube videos on how to properly care for bug type pokemon.

[opinated-user]

For anyone else on Earth, looking at art drawn by TWO artists who used CSEM as references (including one who hurt her own son), having massive porn accounts full of the most realistic shota and loli on the face of this planet, misgendering every trans and nonbinary person she encounters, calling queer people cishet if she doesn't like them, hating a Jewish nonbinary cartoon creator and likening her to a Nazi, overlooking antisemitism in Harley Quinn, writing a black OC whose mom is a slave trader who goes on to wed a trafficking victim of her mother's and completely control her life/use her as childcare and ship repair, making the Tooncritic situation worse allowing an actual pedophile to walk free, having her Gardevoir OC violate a human child, writing incest and murder and pedophilia and rape, coercing people into sexual art and acts they were uncomfortable with, stealing art, stealing jokes, having her audience dogpile people, accusing her audience and haters alike of wanting to fuck or rape her, flashing children suddenly on stream, and lying chronically about everything from catching covid 3 times to her race to faking entire people would be enough to get her deplatformed.

I've seen people get deplatformed for any single one of these things.

Why the fuck does Lily glide by without any lengthy comprehensive video or massive Lily exposed video essay? Why is it always, at most, a video that goes over one thing she did or one person she hurt? Why does no one ever talk about the people whose existence she faked or the porn accounts or the racefaking or any other number of things she's done?

Maybe if someone did a cold, calm TRO style video about all the shit Lily's done with all the receipts we'd get somewhere. But instead videos are made about, at most, two things she's done, without the piles of evidence for all the other things, and then everyone argues about a word possibly being misused as if that's going to help things.

If I had any money to my name I would buy equipment and make a documentary length video on everything she has done. Instead I have to sit here as a Jewish CSA victim knowing she can endorse Nazis and support an artist who assaulted a two year old and know that at most those things will get 4-10 reblogs on tumblr rather than her getting dragged and deplatformed away from minors she can hurt.

I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired. The fact that not one person even seems to care enough to try to cover even a fraction of her shit is exhausting. It takes me right back to childhood and being told what my abuser did wasn't serious because she's a girl and girls aren't bad like boys are.

Can someone please hold this woman to account? The evidence is all over the place. The job is halfway done for you. Someone, anyone, please do something significant to deplatform her.

At this rate the only way she'll be deplatformed is if she abuses a child herself, and only if it's in a way the authorities bother to give a shit about. Again: I am so tired. No one gives a damn about people like me, either in the sense of giving a damn about CSA survivors or Jewish people. No one cares. No one has ever cared. I wish I'd died when I was a kid and my abuser used to choke me, I really do.

making the Tooncritic situation worse allowing an actual pedophile to walk free

(i have to clarify that i was wrong about that. on this post segasister is kind enough to explain better the situation. LO actually had nothing to do with the investigation one way or another. she did took advantage of it and made it seem like she was the hero when that wasn't true, but she didn't made it worse either like i assumed so.) anon, please don't think of it that way. i know it's disheartening and dissapointing that all of this doesn't recieve as much attention as we'd all like, but at least is recieving some attention now. it was a lot worse just a few years back. things are changing slowly but they're doing it and for the better. LO might never get the TRO's style documentary that other figures got, but she's slowly fading into irrelevancy and that is what matters because it means less people she can hurt. i'm so sorry for everything that has happened to you. if LO and the discourse around her makes you feel that way, i recommend taking a break, find your support system and try to forget about this for a while. your wellbeing and mental health is more important that LO and anything she could do or say.