#this is about emergency contact

[angelhound]

feeling personally victimized that ptv did not play their new song when i saw them bc i have heard 30 seconds of it that were leaked and it’s literally. so good it hurts my feelings. going to kill myself later when it comes out

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

That was it! Danny officially hated CPS! They were so annoying. How did they even keep finding him?! Hes in the rural area of Tennessee and they keep catching up to him. They had kept pace with him through the past three states (was this really cps?) and kept spouting nonsense about his powers being dangerous and needing to be taught how to use them before he hurts himself or others. Jokes on them, Dannys already dead!

Luckly they only seem to be able to track Phantom and not Fenton but after his spooky self got shot by one of these creeps he ducked into a free health clinic for teens and kids. The only problem is that he has to put down a valid Emergency contact. His parents and friends won't work since they don't exist in this dimension and he didn't know anyone else.

So he put down the name of a random Wayne family member because they are confirmed to be real and he doubted any of them would come if called.

He was wrong.

The only real question is which one did he put down

[pippytmi]

kacy + a break-up AU based on this prompt list: "you’re my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital"

———————————————————————

The thing no one says about breakups is that they're an utter inconvenience.

Kate tries to rationalize it; she was dating Lucy Tara for twelve months and thirteen days, it's only natural to have established a routine that will take some time to unlearn. So when she wakes up and reaches for a warm body that isn't there, it still takes a while to remember why. And when she makes her morning coffee, maybe sometimes she will pour the creamer that Lucy likes by accident. (By the end of the week, she will have to pour the whole container down the drain). That’s normal too. Mostly.

Lucy’s absence hits the most in the morning, but Kate goes through the motions anyway. Before Lucy she would always take her coffee outside and sit on the balcony to watch the sunrise, so she still does it. Of course now there’s no Lucy wrapped up in a blanket and insistently making her way onto Kate’s lap to sleep while she does it, but. Kate sips from her mug and watches the clouds roll in over the gloomy horizon and pretends nothing has changed.

The drive to work is quiet save for the gentle patter of rain against her windows. Her radio is still set to the station Lucy likes, and Kate hasn’t managed to change it. Baby steps—that’s all it takes. Maybe tomorrow Kate might have the courage to switch it back to her own.

And when everything at home is too loud and simultaneously too empty, there’s work. Kate gets to her desk and finds a mountain of files with new assignments, and she welcomes them with open arms; her work has always been separate from Lucy, and it's the one constant she doesn't need to readjust to.

For a blissful hour and a half, Kate is in her own world. She argues with a client about what confidentiality means (and what it doesn't). She reschedules the deposition of a plaintiff on a particularly high-profile case because opposing counsel has accidentally double-booked. She creates an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of her new cases but organizes the clients by market value. 

By all accounts, her morning is shaping up considerably. That is, until her cell phone starts buzzing.

She ignores the first call from the unknown number flashing on the screen. Instead, she gets coffee from the awful machine in the break room. The second call comes thirty minutes later, and Kate ignores it again, spends her time politely explaining how to use the fax machine to her confused new paralegal.

When her phone rings a third time—just as Kate has gotten out of a grueling meeting with the senior attorneys which should've been an email—she answers it solely for peace of mind: “This is Kate.”

There's a brief shuffle on the other end. “Hi, I'm calling from St. Joseph Hospital for a Katherine Whistler?”

“Speaking,” Kate says curtly, prepared to give a spiel about how she won't donate at this time when the caller continues,

“Oh—good morning.” More shuffling. “Is this a good time? I have a sensitive matter to discuss.”

Kate frowns even if the person on the other line can't see it. “Yes, it's fine,” she says, and watches as her work phone lights up with another call that she will just have to return later. 

“I'm calling on behalf of a patient: Lucy Tara. She has you listed as her emergency contact. She is unresponsive and we were wondering if you could come in to discuss the particulars of her care…”

The rest of the call is static. Kate almost drops her phone entirely, only grasping onto select words like they're a lifeline. Lucy is alive. Lucy is hurt. Lucy was found unconscious. Lucy has yet to wake up. Lucy is alive.

Kate doesn't even tell anyone she's leaving; she just goes. Later, senior attorney Michael Curtis will tell Kate that she looked extremely pale and sickly when rushing out of the office, but Kate will only remember a vague blur from that phone call to actually arriving at the hospital. It might be the most reckless thing she’s ever done, come to think of it.

Dr. Carla Chase is the physician assigned to Lucy’s care, and she takes one look at Kate and blinks as if surprised to see her. “Forget an umbrella?”

“I'm sorry?” Kate says, heart caught dangerously high in her throat. She's literally choking on worry—Dr. Chase’s words don't sink in until she takes a step forward and realizes she is currently dripping all over the linoleum floor.

Dr. Chase gives her a small, sympathetic smile. “Let me ease your mind,” she says. “Ms. Tara woke up. Our timeline is good, she was not unconscious for long. Has a concussion and a nasty bump, but she's going to be just fine.”

Kate breathes. “Oh,” she says shakily, and embarrassingly, hot tears spring to her eyes at the confirmation. “That's…great. Thank you.”

“You can come inside, see her. I'll go find you a towel.” Even though Kate is a sopping mess, Dr. Chase still pauses to place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze reassuringly.

Even with the worst over, the hardest part is still walking into the room—harder still is watching as Lucy looks up with those wide, curious eyes that become expressionless the instant she sees Kate.

“Kate? What are you doing here?” Lucy asks, voice not quite harsh but definitely not welcoming.

Kate opens her mouth, but is unable to form words. She's too stuck just staring at Lucy: at the bruise that colors the entirety of the swell of her cheek, at the large bandage over her jaw, at the purpling of her black eye. Any relief at knowing that Lucy is awake sinks into horror at the state of Lucy’s injuries.

“Kate,” Lucy repeats, frowning. “Why do you look like someone died?” A beat. “And why are you wet?”

“The—the hospital called me,” Kate manages. “Are you okay? How are you…how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine. I just fell down a stupid mountain.” Lucy smooths down her blanket, twisting the corner between her fingertips the way she does when she's uncomfortable.

“A mountain?”

“It's not as dramatic as it sounds,” Lucy says. “Kai and I were searching for a missing kid and we got separated, and with the rain it was muddy and foggy and…well, you get it.”

“And he left you there? Unconscious?” Kate has met Kai Holman once or twice, and knows very little about him except that just like Lucy, he volunteers for search and rescue missions to escape his normal job. Beyond that, Kate’s opinion of him is quickly going downhill.

“He wasn't there when it happened,” Lucy argues. “I already texted him and explained, but, I told him he didn't have to come see me or anything.” She stops. “So why did you come?”

“Because the hospital called,” Kate says again, which is pretty self-explanatory.

Apparently, Lucy does not feel the same way. “But you didn't have to answer the phone,” she points out. “We’re not together. You could've just said ‘sorry, she’s my ex’ and called it a day.”

Kate stiffens. “You're the one who has me as your emergency contact. It was the…decent thing to do,” she says.

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Okay, congratulations,” she says, “you have done your civic duty of not being an asshole. But I’m alright, so you can go back to deep-sea diving in your pantsuit or whatever you were up to before this.”

“Hold on,” Kate says, a flare of panic overtaking any objection she might have to Lucy’s disdain (which is completely unwarranted, by the way). “How are you getting home?”

“They’ve invented a modern miracle called an Uber, not sure if you heard.” Lucy waves her phone exaggeratedly. “I’ll survive.”

It's an out, and Kate should take it. She should walk out that door and never look back, let all the unsaid issues between them continue to morph and mutate into something ugly and irreversible. But she can’t. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Kate says at last.

Lucy immediately shakes her head. “That’s not necessary,” she says. “Seriously. If you’re that against Ubers, I can call Kai and get him here in two seconds. He’d be more than happy to take me home.”

“That would be unnecessary. I’m already here.”

“And you don’t have to be,” Lucy reiterates, staring Kate down like she expects her to cave.

If it were any other situation, Kate would. She's soaked head to toe from the rain, she has no obligation to be here, and by all accounts either reason would be a rational excuse to extradite herself from this hospital. Especially the former—the chill of her wet clothes is finally beginning to catch up to her, and she blindly brushes back her damp hair while resisting the urge to shiver. It would be the rational decision to go home and change into warm clothes (and explain to her boss why she left without as much as a text explaining why).

But for once in her life, Kate isn't being rational. “I'm not leaving,” she says, crossing her arms in an attempt to look firm. 

Lucy sighs, sagging backwards against her pillow. “Come on, Kate,” she says. “This is awkward enough. I don't need a babysitter after one tiny little fall.”

“Down a mountain,” Kate says, unable to let that fact go. “What do your parents think about this?”

“I…might've not told them. Exactly.” Lucy bites her lip in an obvious effort not to wince. “I asked for the day off when I woke up, so.”

Kate blinks. “You woke up after a traumatic fall,” she says slowly, “and…asked your parents for PTO.”

“I wouldn't call it traumatic. That's such an ugly word. Limiting, even,” Lucy says. “It would've been a total badass move if it hadn't been, you know, raining.”

A knock against the wall announces Dr. Chase’s arrival, who has thankfully brought Kate that towel. “How are we doing?” she asks.

“Ready to get out of here,” Lucy says, sitting up eagerly. “Whenever you say so, doc.”

“Well, I really would recommend a CT scan to be on the safe side,” Dr. Chase says. “But given that you've passed all our cognitive tests and your vision is good, I can consider a discharge…as long as you have someone at home to monitor you today and make sure no further symptoms arise. And no sleeping until your normal bedtime.”

“I’ll be with her,” Kate interjects as she towels off her hair. Lucy looks like she might argue, but her desire to leave must win out, because she doesn't speak up.

“Fantastic. Let me get your discharge paperwork and a prescription for some painkillers—all over the counter. Then we're going to have a serious discussion about what you should and should not do, okay?”

“Got it. Thanks, Dr. Chase,” Lucy says cheerfully, but the instant the doctor leaves, so does her smile. “What was that? You obviously can't stay with me.”

“I know,” Kate says defensively, even if—for a second—she had been completely prepared to. “I'm sure Ernie or Jane can monitor your symptoms just fine.”

“...yeah,” Lucy agrees slowly, as if she had been expecting Kate to argue. Then, “Oh, shit. I actually forgot to tell Jane I'm here.” She frantically opens her phone and starts texting up a flurry, her brow crinkling as she concentrates on her screen, and Kate is brought back to movie nights spent scouring Wikipedia articles and faux-arguing over date night picks and it's…too much.

This is the opposite of unlearning; this is an all too painful reminder that Lucy Tara is no longer in her life. Kate wrings the damp towel between her hands and takes a deep breath to save face. At the very least, Lucy doesn't seem to have caught on to Kate’s internal turmoil, because when she looks up again all the cheerfulness from before is back.

Kate knows in that instant she never wants Lucy to lose that cheer again. “Everything okay?” she asks, aiming for just-polite-enough interest, and Lucy is gracious enough to allow it.

“They found the missing girl,” Lucy says, sagging backwards in obvious relief. “Thank God.” When she smiles, even if it’s down at her phone, Kate nearly tears up all over again.

“That’s great.” Kate clears her throat, places her hands in her (wet) pockets, and tries very hard to act casual. “So is Jane going to stay with you, then?”

“No—she’s the one who found the kid, she has to stay and give the police a statement,” Lucy mutters, biting her lip distractedly as she types out another message. “I’ll see what Ernie’s up to.”

By the time Dr. Chase comes back with discharge paperwork and a spiel about avoiding screens (during which Lucy noticeably peeks at Kate, like she might rat her out), Kate has already resolved herself to zero interference. Obviously it’s not what she wants, but she listens to Dr. Chase and nods along at all the right times while in her head she is already drafting a very long message to Ernie with all the relevant information. Then she drives Lucy home to that bleak apartment that Lucy lives in mostly as a general “fuck you” to her parents, which Kate swears is either haunted or infested by very spirited roaches.

The entire ride there, Lucy doesn’t say anything about the car’s radio being set to her favorite station (and which  Kate would always complain about), which is just as well. Kate isn’t sure how she would’ve explained it.

“This not sleeping thing sucks, I’m honestly dead tired with our without a concussion,” Lucy groans as she exits the vehicle, stretching her arms overhead.

Kate follows her outside, and when Lucy gives her a questioning look, she says, “Ernie’s not here yet, is he? I can at least wait with you until he does.”

“I’m sure I can survive thirty minutes alone, Kate,” Lucy says. “I won’t pass out the instant you walk away or anything.”

“I’d really rather wait,” Kate says, and Lucy sighs.

“Fine. God, I would’ve changed my emergency contact ASAP if I’d known you would be such a stickler for lame hospital rules.” Lucy wraps herself up in a  large black hoodie which Kate recognizes as her own, still muddy from the fall but otherwise intact.

“Why did you?” Kate finds herself asking, mouth three steps ahead of her head, and Lucy pauses outside her apartment door.

“You mean why didn’t I change it? Because I forgot, I wasn’t exactly expecting to land in the hospital.”

“No, why…why did you make me your emergency contact in the first place?” Kate clarifies, her voice strangely quiet even to her own ears.

Lucy methodically unlocks her door, but her hands falter. “Just because,” she says at last. “You know how it is. Anything was better than my parents. Sorry I didn’t…ask you first.”

“Well, I mean,” Kate shrugs, “I didn’t ask you either.”

At that, Lucy whirls around, mouth agape. “You made me your emergency contact?”

Kate hesitates. “Yes? After like six months. It was a practical decision, we spent pretty much all our time together and I assumed…”

Somehow, she’s said the wrong thing, because Lucy’s eyes darken. “Right.” She moves away, digging through her fridge in search of something to drink, and Kate awkwardly leans against the kitchen counter and tries to make sense of what’s going on.

“Did you eat anything today?” Kate attempts to change the subject. “I can make you something before Ernie gets here.”

Lucy takes a gulp of a water bottle and doesn’t respond, just eyes Kate from across the kitchen with a sharp, unyielding glare. Finally, the words seem to burst out: “I wish you weren’t so—fucking—” She shakes her head. “Do you even know how you sound, sometimes? No girl wants to hear that they’re the practical choice. Just once, I wish you’ve would picked me because you wanted me.”

Kate feels her entire body prickle, partly in shock and partly in indignation. “What are you talking about? I did pick you.”

“Did you?” Lucy tilts her head. “”Cause it kind of feels like you picked the idea of me. At least, that’s how Cara tells it.”

“Seriously? Cara? She—” Kate pauses to exhale, swallows back a frustrated sob. “She’s wrong. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. Fuck, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” This time, her voice quivers like the sob might escape, and some of the steel in Lucy’s gaze softens.

“Then why did you leave?”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Kate says. “You were pushing me away, Lucy. What was I supposed to think?”

“You should’ve fought harder for me,” Lucy says. “You could have talked to me. Jesus, Kate, I don’t—I can’t have this conversation right now. I’m basically a prisoner in my house, this is the last thing I need.”

Kate’s shoulders fall. “I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that either,” Lucy snaps, and she chugs the remainder of her water before she stalks out of the room. “No apologies. Okay?”

“Okay.” Kate waits to see if Lucy will come back to the kitchen, but she doesn’t. Instead, she hears the tell-tale sound of Lucy banging around through her board game drawer, because the chess set Ernie gave her rattles and gives it away. Kate tentatively enters the living room, finds Lucy sorting through a Monopoly box, but doesn’t try to say anything else.

Lucy breaks the silence all on her own, eventually. “I have nothing to cook,” she says. “But I asked Ernie to bring food with him.”

“Alright.” Kate doesn’t sit down because her clothes are still damp, but she does wait by the couch. “Can I help with anything?”

“No.” Lucy is sitting cross-legged on the floor and carefully stacking Monopoly money into piles by color, her muddy hoodie occasionally smearing against the carpet. “I’m fine.” She obviously isn’t; her jaw is clenched, her back stiff, her entire demeanor still a perfect mirror of her anger.

Kate wisely doesn’t push. And when Ernie arrives carrying Thai food and a thick stack of books which Lucy is outwardly horrified at, Kate doesn’t try to stay.

“I’m going to send you the doctor’s discharge instructions,” she tells Ernie instead, as Lucy gingerly pokes through one of the books Ernie has handed off. “Make sure Lucy eats something before she takes her meds.”

“On it, Dr. Whistler,” Ernie says seriously, his voice going low so Lucy can’t hear afterward. “And thanks, for being there. Even if you two aren’t…”

Kate casts one final look at Lucy Tara, bundled up in her clothes and adorably pouting at the prospect of reading all night instead of playing board games, and feels her heart beat so hard it hurts. “Take care of her,” she says, but it’s not a request.

Ernie gives her a small, sad smile. “I will.” 

Lucy doesn’t say goodbye, but she does spare Kate one brief, sorrowful once-over like she wants to. Kate memorizes that look—lets it linger in the back of her mind—and doesn’t cry until the first cheery pop song from Lucy’s favorite station starts playing on the drive home.

She hits the button to turn off the radio altogether, but her finger slips and she accidentally switches stations instead. Kate eases the car to a stop at a red light, watches as rain begins to drizzle once more, and then she makes the executive decision to switch it back.

Baby steps.

[miekasa]

Gojo 100% the type who misses having a baby / toddler at home once his son starts growing into a teen and you can't change my mind 😤

Satoru thought he would be okay. Before having kids of his own, he was basically in charge of a bunch of brats, so he figured he’d be most prepared for that step.

Megumi taught him how to appropriately shop for a middle schooler, what was cool and what wasn’t (a lesson Satoru did not take to heart), how to even talk to kid his age—not quite a baby, not quite an adult. He learned how much maintenance it really takes to have a pet—how much more it is to have two—and that for the first few years, at least, those pets are really yours, and not your kids. Megumi, who sometimes Satoru feels raised him and not the other way around, was honestly, probably the best experience a first time parent could ask for, even if the kid was bit sulkier and serious than most.

Yuuji taught him how even the smallest, most niche things can become a hobby of greater interest for a teenager. One second Satoru was funding four different gym memberships, then it was a $2000 computer and Twitch channel, then it was study abroad cooking lessons. Teenagers have a lot of interests, it’s important to let them explore all of them, even if they don’t all become lifelong passions. It’s also important to push them to try things they don’t think they like, whether that’s sports or vegetables—it’s just cauliflower, Yuuji, it won’t kill you.

Yuuta taught him that those puppy love crushes can be, and to the kids, are very real. It’s okay to tease, but if a kid can ask you for advice about love, it means they can see that you’re loved; that maybe, even if it’s in a different way, they love you, too. He also taught Satoru that, yes even though he’s technically encroaching upon adult age, that he’s still very much reliant on the advice and expertise of adults—that no matter how old kids get, they’ll always need you.

(That brought Satoru a lot of comfort, not that he’d admit it to anybody).

And your kid isn’t even a teenager, not even close at barely seven years old, but that’s when Satoru first started learning from Megumi, and it’s starting to hit a little close to home. His little boy isn’t so little anymore and he wants to scream about it. He doesn’t need extra hugs before he’s dropped off at school, he doesn’t need Satoru’s help playing games, he doesn’t even need help with his laundry.

Satoru all but cries to you. “Maybe he got swapped with a clone. I was never that independent that young. He’s supposed to be my mini me. It’s too soon, somebody must have taken our real baby,” Satoru practically has tears in his eyes, clinging to you in fetal position as you attempt to read your book in bed.

You give up, setting your book down to place a hand on your husband’s head. “Will you relax. Isn’t it a good thing?”

“Absolutely not. I miss when he was small.”

“He’s barely a three and half feet tall.”

“Smaller. Next thing you know, he’ll be taller than me. I can’t take that,” Satoru sighs. You know he’s being dramatic, but you get it; they grow up far too quickly. “I want him to be my baby forever.”

“He is your baby. And you still have a whole lot of babies,” you remind him. “Didn’t Yuuji ask you help him with his car stuff the other day? I think you’re still Megumi and Yuuta’s emergency contact.”

“Those are big babies, I want smaller babies,” Satoru frowns, pressing his cheek against your tummy. You chuckle and run your hands through his hair. A few moments of silence pass, and Satoru brings a hand to rub against your stomach, before quietly posing the question that’s been on his mind for far too long, “What if we had another?”

[chickenstrangers]

ONLY FRIENDS | EPISODE 4

YOUR EMERGENCY CONTACT HAS EXPERIENCED AN EMERGENCY by CHEN CHEN (2022)

[lunar-years]

there used to be a fairly popular ot3 trope in the s2 hiatus (I think, or maybe it was literally just one fic I really liked so I'm misremembering, lol) where Jamie would get sick/injured and end up in hospital but he still had Keeley down as her emergency contact, so her (with an angry Roy in tow) would show up at the hospital and become his (on Roy's part, reluctant) caregivers until they all fell in love. I think the idea sort of went by the wayside because it relied on roy/keeley already being together and Jamie eventually joining their relationship, which is no longer the standard route to ot3. But! I think we should consider bringing it back.

[koko2unite]

[echosluvr]

Will never understand why people feel the need to tell debbie gallagher stans what problematic shit she’s done as if everyone on that show hasn’t done / said problematic shit.

[davinciae]

ray's o'clock

[tittyinfinity]

call me crazy, but I don't think you should have to call your kid's school and beg them to not punish them or call CPS on you over their attendance when they've been consistently sick all school year, during a PANDEMIC, and they're all there unmasked around hundreds of people all day

[mychanicalbrides]

the reddest flag of them all is people who hate on jaws of life you guys dont GET IT

[scribefindegil]

QPR ekurei is such a great dynamic you are so big brain

LISTEN it's GOOD!!!

My Vision for queerplatonic ekurei is like. it's slow and it's gradual and they don't really talk about it. it's just, you know, Dimple keeps hanging out around Spirits and Such even when Mob isn't there, and if Reigen asks he'll say he was bored or hungry or that he can't let Reigen die because then Shigeo would be upset and flunk his exams and they can't have that now can they? and maybe a couple of times he has to walk Reigen home after a job goes sideways just to make sure that there's no spiritual nonsense on him that they missed, and maybe Mob's busier with schoolwork in the evenings and so Dimple can't hang around and bother him as much, and sure he could just drift around people-watching and looking for weaker spirits to eat, but it just doesn't scratch the same itch anymore, and so he finds himself going to bother Reigen instead.

and this goes on for years, with Dimple being a fixture at both the Kageyamas' and Reigen's apartment. and then Mob moves out for school and tells Dimple that he doesn't want him coming with because he needs privacy and his own space. and Dimple's a little cut up about it even though he pretends that he isn't, has a moment of wondering what his unlife is going to look like now that the person who brought him back to it has moved on, now that he's going to lose that anchor that feels like home, and he probably goes and sulks for a while, but eventually he finds himself coming back to Reigen. and Reigen's feeling a little weird and empty-nest-ish himself but he's like well. at least you can still haunt me.

and it's only later as Dimple is sitting on the couch of Reigen's apartment while they argue about what movie they're going to make fun of that night, sipping a beer that Reigen can't drink but buys for him anyway, that he realizes oh. he does have a home. and it's here.

[horrifichaunts]

I think about this note a normal amount, a totally normal amount.

and here's your heart breaking reminder that unless its stuff set up with other blogs, my Cassie hasn't seen her dad for two months and then Ruin starts....

......and her heart couldn't take loosing two people she cares about.

[shima-draws]

My chiro: You should ice your back for 20 minutes before you go to sleep tonight :)

Me: Yeah okay that’s probably a good idea!! I have been having really bad flare ups all week

Me now: Bad idea BAD idea this is so fucking COLD 🥶

[mllekurtz]

For the wip ask game, I'm very intrigued by the emergency contact au! Is it gonna be tense? Is it gonna have.. emergencies?? 👀👀👀

Hi, it took me a while to reply to this because I wanted to round up all the other posts I made about this au and, as we all know, Tumblr's search function might as well not exist.

But I did it! I talked about it here, here, here and here.

The reason there are so many posts about it is because I started writing it shortly after the c2 finale and it's been a wip since then. Sometimes I think about it, add a sentence or two, refine a plot point. It's basically my comfort au. I have rewritten the first chapters at least twice. I don't think I'll ever finish it, or at least not soon, but it's very much in progress by the strictest definition of the word.

(The reason it's called emergency contact au, in short: Caleb and Essek used to be married and Essek is still Caleb's emergency contact. It was a vibe-only au that became a plot-heavy one while I was writing it, but the brainworms sprouted from their canon 'break-up'; I don't consider it a fix-it fic even though they absolutely get back together.)

[langernameohnebedeutung]

I can't find my old rant about Liv's mother but I just realised I left out this part -

if your son flees the house for several days because of a pretty damn brilliant report card that's fucking terrifying