#And then RAISED THEM TO THE AGE OF 18 at minimum

[amalg-em]

Tbh I'd like to (politely) push back on the whole "people compare things to their personal experiences" bit. Maybe it's the ND in me, but I research shit for fun and also being an outlier has taught me that my experiences aren't universal. And while other people generally don't know as many facts about as many topics as I do, everyone has their areas of interest & are going to have more facts in that area beyond their personal experience. Meaning: if they've ever researched anything ever at all, they know how much information is out there, and should be able to extrapolate that they have a relatively tiny sliver of it. I. E., their personal experiences aren't divine, universal truth.

Even so, I think the fact that you can go on this website and have people straight up tell you "Hey no apples are not supposed to be spicy sweetie. That's an allergy or at minimum oral allergy syndrome, you should get tested" is evidence that people are capable of taking others' problems seriously. Without needing to be an information sponge like me. Like, that is equally as human a trait as being dismissive of anyone and anything Not Like Them.

Further, it takes very little effort to just... Listen to people, take what they're telling you in good faith, and try to understand where they're coming from. I've had multiple people who never even told me they were struggling with something - I just noticed they seemed Bad At It and I've learned that often Bad At It is actually Disabled and Struggling. And when I asked, it turned out they just thought it was normal to suck and have life suck. It took me pulling up medical articles for them to have the light bulb moment and think about seeking treatment for something they'd struggled with their whole life but never knew they had.

I'm not saying being everyone's medical investigator should be the default - but listen. I am a mess of a human being that only manages to keep it together by weaponizing my anxiety against my problems. If I can do the work to help OTHER people take themselves and their problems seriously, maybe the dismissive blankety-blanks you've dealt with have it in them to simply... Shut the fuck up when they're thinking of saying something deeply lacking in basic human compassion.

Like seriously. This does not need to be normal. You do not need to endure it. Not from strangers and certainly not from close friends or family members. You don't do yourself or the world any favors by teaching them that humans can be used as emotional punching bags. You deserve better because everyone deserves better.

More medical under the cut, I am using humor as a coping mechanism and I'm not terribly funny.

I'm having trouble getting over the size of it. Like I'd never had an ultrasound before so I wasn't sure what I was looking at. So when she did the exterior reading I thought maybe the big black hole I was looking at was my uterus and maybe it was just at a weird angle.

So when she pointed to the little white smudge at the bottom and said 'that's what we can see of your uterus' and measured out the 9cm of the big black hole and said 'that's the fibroid' I was like...

...I've picked up baseballs at the park of that size.

That's a newborn's head.

That's a christmas ornament.

That's a goose egg.

That's one of those little bottles of soy sauce they have at fancy chinese restaurants.

I have picked mushrooms smaller than that.

There's a wad of toilet paper stuck to the ceiling of my high school bathroom that size.

An orange. Like a navel orange, not those little clementines.

Trial size coffee samples.

I can go to a Michael's, rummage through the wooden balls they have there and find an appropriately sized one for somewhere between 6.99 and 10.99 and then use a 30% off coupon on it because those things never go on sale so it would be eligible for the single item discount.

Someone said it takes these things 4-5 years to get to 2cm.

... so times 4.

....so 20ish years.

...so I would have been 17.

I complained about heavy, painful periods as early as 13 and people told me that it was normal, that my body would grow into it.

"No guys, seriously. It hurts a lot and I don't think I'm supposed to bleed this much."

I'd get used to it. My hormones would even out. I was being dramatic. This was a beautiful time in my life.

Wow. 9 whole centimeters. I have a camera lens that size. Balls of yarn. Cosmetic sponges. That geode I found at my grandmama's house. Shot put balls. The roots on one of my monstera plants is forming a ball about that size.

That's kind of what it feels like, actually. It feels like digging roots into me and filling up the space.

I'm thinking about all the pairs of pants that I've ruined in 20 years. This is why I don't wear khakis.

[psychoticallytrans]

There's this idea, fairly common in society, that mental illness is for teens and up. Children are happy little creatures, generally, right? Sometimes they're abused and the trauma can make them mentally ill, but that's not common.

There are two fundamental problems with this attitude. One, it's incorrect to assume that trauma is the only reason a young kid can be mentally ill. Two, trauma is more common than people think. I'll be covering the first problem in this post through the lens of my particular experience.

Where I live, you can be diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 18 years old. You cannot be diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a minor. This poses a problem because my age of onset was in first grade, roughly six years old. Because of the fact that I was very young and new to the world, this was also the age of my first suicide attempt. Thinking I wouldn't be able to pass a spelling test genuinely felt like something worth trying to die over. So, I ate some hemlock, since I'd read about Socrates being killed with it. Luckily, I ate western hemlock, an unrelated species, and just felt kind of sick.

I'm not recounting that for fun or pity. I'm recounting it because children with mental illness are in genuine danger because they have little to no experience with managing their emotions, have little to no concept of the idea that their life can change and improve, and are dismissed by adults. I told a teacher that the test made me want to die, though not that I'd attempted to, and it was brushed off as little kid hyperbole. If I had used a method that was effective rather than one I thought would be, I would have been dead at six years old.

I would not receive medication that worked even a bit for another two years. I would not receive treatment for bipolar disorder specifically for ten years, and that required my PCP fudging the reason for the medication because she was afraid I would die if she didn't, and diagnosis was still two years off at minimum. I received a formal diagnosis at age 19, thirteen years after onset.

But surely that's uncommon, right? This story is a huge edge case, right? I actually have no idea, because age of onset and age of diagnosis are massively conflated for most disabilities. Policies like the one in my area that restricted bipolar diagnoses by age can artificially raise the age of "onset", in my case by thirteen years. The general idea that children are somehow immune to mental illness can also delay diagnosis by several years, perpetuating the idea that young children can't be mentally ill. The data on when people start experiencing mental illness is inherently skewed upwards, and I frankly don't have a good estimate on how bad that skew is. If anyone does have that data, please chime in.

Listen to children. If they're saying they're sad all the time, that they don't care about anything, that they don't see a future for themselves, those are signs of depressive symptoms. If they say that tests make them feel sick, that they can't do anything because they're scared, that they can't breathe and freeze up, those are signs of anxious symptoms. Many children talk about imaginary things, and that's just fine, but slip in a question or two about them to make sure that the kid is just playing, and not experiencing psychosis.

Children are new to the world and vulnerable, and they don't know what's normal and what isn't. They need people who are more experienced watching out for problems they might be having, and listening when they talk about having problems. If you can, try to be the person who perceives them, and tells them that things can be better.

[7s3ven]

SINGLE DAD! X BABYSITTER! READER HAS ME FROTHING OMGG. Even better when the rest of TF 141 is involved

part 1 | part 2 (coming soon - rest of tf 141 introduced)

master list

MDNI 18+

Warnings: big age gap, babysitter! reader, reader is in medical school (but still legal guys)

You told yourself it was just a temporary summer job, something to fill your pockets over the Summer break as you moved into another year of university. Medical bills were not easy to pay off and your old job that paid the bare minimum did not help you in the least. All it taught you was that you had a nasty uppercut (from the time you actually hit someone and got fired).

So, you found yourself standing in front of John Price’s house. You stared up at the tall building, brows raised in surprise. He had understated how big his house was… it even had a garden and a pool. You may as well consider it a mansion.

You quickly rang the doorbell, smoothening out your tight blouse. Your much more appropriate one was in the wash so you prayed whoever answered the door did not notice.

It was a tall middle-aged who greeted you, beard cleanly trimmed and… a hat on his head. “Y/N L/N?” He asked you. You swiftly nodded, softly smiling when he stepped aside.

“So, medical school, huh? Training to become a doctor?” He asks as he brews you a cup of tea while you read over his terms and conditions.

“A surgeon, sir. Not much better, though.” You offer him another smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension.

“Right. Next time I need surgery, I’ll call you up.” He takes a sip from your tea, which you notice but you say nothing. “Just checkin’ the temperature. Wouldn’t want ya to burn yourself.” He hands you the mug, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment too long.

“I assume this is only a quick job for you? Just away to gain a bit of money to pay those student fees off?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you nod. “Yes, sir. I know I should have clarified it but I’m a little desperate at this point. Besides, no retail places want to hire me… after I hit someone.”

Your words intrigued him. He let out a low chuckle as he sat across from you. “Now I’m interested.”

“Well… there’s not much to it… a guy kept staring at my chest. He said some vulgar stuff and next thing I knew, I was punching him.”

Price shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “The lad was askin’ for it. So, what do you think about the job? You’ll honestly be a glorified babysitter. Just do some cleaning and cookin’ here and there and make my baby happy and you’ll get a nice pay check every week.”

It all happened in a blur. You agreed to the job and weeks later, you found yourself at Price’s house more than your apartment. You hadn’t stepped foot into your apartment since two days ago, Price generously allowing you to use one of the guest rooms.

“Lila has a sleepover tomorrow.” Price mentions as you’re reading the instructions on how to make cookies for Lila’s bake sale.

Based on the cooking skills you had seen from Price, you doubted he could bake very well. In fact, all he could cook was steak, which was general knowledge for dads.

“I can drop her off if needed.” You offer while opening the packet of flour only for it to explode in your face. You smacked your lips together, grimacing. “Not a word.” You mutter to Price who’s chuckling under his breath.

“Wasn’t gon’ a say anything, love.” He helps wipe the flour dust off your face, still grinning in amusement.

In all honesty, your relationship with Price felt a little too domesticated, especially right now as you wore a frilly apron he had bought just for you.

“Your skirt’s too short, by the way.” Price grumbles, attempting to tug it down. “You sure no creeps stared at you on your way ‘ere? Wouldn’t want ya in danger.”

You push his hands away from your hips. “Even if people were staring, I’ll just punch them.”

You had tried to maintain a professional relationship with your boss but it was hard when he carelessly manhandled you and treated you like his wife rather than his daughter’s babysitter.

And all professional behaviour came crashing down when he unexpectedly stood behind you as you whisked the cookie batter.

“You look like a coke addict.” Price jokes, referring to the flour that still stained your face. “Like you got it everywhere but up your nose.”

“I can assure you, sir, I have never tried coke unless my friend daring me to snort sherbet counts.”

Price grins at your biting remark, his heavy hands falling to your waist. “Yeah? Heard it doesn’t feel too good with sherbet.”

“Not in the slightest.”

His hands trail dangerously low but you don’t have the courage to ask him to stop… nor do you really want him too. He seems to sense your willingness as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, body pressed up tightly against yours.

You feel more like his spoiled wife than a medical student just trying to pay her bills.

“You’re pretty, ya know that? Surprised you don’ have a boyfriend… or girlfriend. Or partner. Dunno what your label is.”

With shaking hands, you place the bowl filled with cookie batter to the side, afraid you’ll only spill it.

“Never met a woman as soft as you… most think I chased Lila’s mother away. But nah. Her mother ran off, leavin’ me with a baby. Not that I’m complaining, I love Lila… and without her, I wouldn’ have met you.”

You’re reduced to listening to Price’s words, stuck between his larger frame and the marbled kitchen counter.

“Sir.” You whisper but it reaches his keen ears. Everything after that is a distorted blur and you find yourself bent over the counter, clad in nothing but the apron, with Price right behind you.

Price was a mystery to you. How could a man be turned on by something as simple as an apron? Though, he was a single dad so it made sense.

Price is muttering praises in your ears as your knees tremble, threatening to buckle. You never imagined you’d be in your employer’s kitchen, having your back blown out by the man himself.

His hands were hungrily climbing your body, gripping every bit of exposed skin he could find. If it wasn’t for him holding you upright, you would have toppled to the ground in a heartbeat.

You feel Price lift a hand to grip your hair, tugging at your locks. He’s in a desperate stupor but you’re not any better, pushing back your hips to meet his harsh thrusts.

“Gon’ a fill ya up. Give you a baby of yer own. Fuck… be so pretty just like you. My perfect little wife.” He grunts in your ear. You have no energy to correct him; that you’re not actually his wife but you’d have no complaints if he bought you a ring.

If anything, his words spur you on more.

Your chest is heaving by the time you near your release. You’re whining like a damn dog, high pitched noises slipping past your saliva-slicked lips. And you only grow in volume as Price speeds up, pressing his body against your back.

He’s older than you, that’s a fact you knew from the start, but he’s definitely more experienced as well. His well thought out words have the desired effect on you as the coil in your stomach snaps.

Your fluids drip down your exposed legs, hitting the tiles kitchen ground in thick droplets. You hear Price swear under his breath, quickly pulling out and staining your back white.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Then he leads you towards his bathroom, ushering you inside and handing you a spare set of clothes.

“Imma place your old ones in the washing, yeah?” He mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you to wash off.

You sit on the shower floor for a good five minutes, replaying the moment in your head. When you finally cleanse yourself of sweat, you slip Price’s shirt over your head, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his cologne. It was the one you liked too.

His clothes engulfed you as you stumbled back into the kitchen, hobbling a little.

“I guess I’ll… get going then.” You murmur, fidgeting with your hands.

Price reaches out a hand to brush a strand of hair away from your face. Then he nods. “See you tomorrow night, lovie.”

Right, you still had to finish those cookies and pick up your clothes.

[nickfowlerrr]

Would you rather:

Walk in on dbf!Lee pleasuring himself to your pictures or have Bucky go into Winter Soldier mode while he’s fucking you 💞

it's no secret

pairing: dbf!lee bodecker x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. reader is at minimum 25 but there's still an age gap. male masturbation. unprotected smut. lee being referred to as "daddy". honestly not as nasty as i was originally imagining this to be, and not as forbidden as most dbf tropes should probably be lol sorry.

words: 3.7k

notes: i was gonna say bucky, i really was, but then i got to thinking, and suddenly my fingers got to typing, and now here we are lol. pls enjoy.

thank you in advance for reading! comments and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated.

You were essentially blackmailed into coming along on this weekend trip to the family cabin by your dad. A promise that he wouldn't tell your mom about your holiday plans, and how they didn't involve you coming home this year, in exchange for your presence on this "family" trip. 

Unfortunately, your father failed to mention the last minute change of plans that included a few more people than you were prepared for staying at the cabin with you. 

Your room was yours, but all the other ones were now taken by family friends; some you knew, and some you'd only just met. As annoyed as you were at the number of people around, the presence of one in particular kept you from loading up your car and faking a work emergency to head back to your apartment in the city.

Lee Bodecker was a relatively new friend of your dad's, but his impression was lasting to say the least.

He was tall and thick, had a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, gorgeous blue eyes and the beginnings of crow's feet around them that only added to his attractiveness; you couldn’t deny that his age and respectability were part of what held your attention. His chestnut hair was dark with gray that shone through around his hairline and the badge he wore on his belt caught your eye, too. A sheriff. Hm. He had this air about him, this unspoken confidence and a powerful, authoritative presence that had you just a little more than interested in the man.

You had met a few weeks back at your dad's birthday party. He had caught you staring at him from across the room as he spoke to a group of people crowded around him, while you were sitting on the couch alone, nursing your soda and watching the party go on around you.

You hadn’t meant to stare, didn't even realize you were, until his sapphire eyes met yours. The twitch of a smirk playing on his lips as he returned your gaze sent a thrill up your spine, but you simply looked away, taking a sip from your drink as you crossed your legs and got more comfortable on the sofa.

You felt his eyes on you for a moment longer before the heavy weight of his gaze fell away. It wasn't long after that that a heavy weight soon fell next to you on the loveseat. 

Most of the guests, and your parents, were drunk as the party continued all around you, no one paying much of any attention to you or Lee as you sat right up against one another.

You set your drink on the side table before you turned slightly with a raised brow to your unexpected company.

“Hope you don’t mind me comin over, darlin’,” he began easily, “you looked a little lonely sittin here by yourself.”

His arm moved to stretch across the back of the couch, inviting you in closer to him than you already were.

“Did I?” you questioned. “Well, I appreciate you tearing yourself away from your enraptured audience just to offer me some company.”

You and Lee spoke for a long while, his charm effortless, his hand wandering, and that damn lopsided smirk never faltering as he flirted and teased you with fleeting touches… his big, warm palm sliding up your exposed thigh, under the tight material of your dress in a game of chicken until he was reluctantly pulled away from you by the badgering of your dad and his drunken friends, needing Lee to recount the story you were sure they’d all hear a million times by now. 

You had had enough yourself for one night, so adjusted the hem of your dress that would have been riding up your thick thighs regardless, and grabbed your purse and keys.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” you said as you moved past him to get to your dad first, needing to say your goodbyes to your parents before you left.

“You will,” Lee rumbled in his reply, his voice a little deeper now than it had been earlier as he watched you walk in front of him, the view leaving him licking his lips as he fought to keep his hands to himself.

And he was right. 

You weren’t expecting him to be here this weekend, but you definitely weren’t complaining. 

All day had been spent with you both stealing glances at one another and trying repeatedly to get close, only for someone to come by and ruin any chance you had to even speak. 

It wasn’t until that night that you finally had some alone time with Lee.

Your parents were leading a hike up the mountain to see the stars that everyone wanted to join in on. Everyone but you two.

Lee had said goodnight to the group as they started getting ready to take off while you hung back, making sure everyone had everything they’d need. You helped spray your mom’s friend’s kids with bug repellent and double checked the flashlight batteries on the bigger lights before giving your portable phone charger to your dad, just in case, before the group of them left for their hike.

You were surprisingly giddy as you watched them all take off down the path. You waited a few minutes, making sure no one was gonna change their minds about the long night hike and turn around. You did a quick look around the cabin to ensure it really was just you and Lee and when you were satisfied, you went to your room to change into something more…easily accessible. 

You fussed over your hair needlessly for a minute in the bathroom before adjusting the straps of your night slip.

As you padded down the hallway from your room to the one Lee was staying in, you slowed when you heard noise coming from his direction.

The closer you got, the more the anticipation built as you realized what it was you were hearing.

Lee’s grunts and moans filled the empty hallway and had your pussy fluttering as your heart pounded. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to ease the growing desire but it did little to satisfy you as his voice only rose. 

When you were at the door, you realized that it wasn’t completely closed. He’d left it ajar.

You saw the glow of his phone from over his shoulder as he sat on the opposite side of the bed, facing away from the door.

You didn’t have to guess to know what it was he was doing, his fist moving tortuously over his thick cock as he pumped himself. It did surprise you, though, when you made out what it was he was looking at; more aptly, who he was looking at.

You recognized your picture from your private instagram account, the one you kept family off of. It was for your sexier pictures, the ones you didn’t always feel comfortable posting on your main. You’d followed Lee from that account the day after you’d met, your mom had posted a picture from the party and tagged him, among others, in the group pictures, and you took the opportunity as it was presented to you.

You’d messaged each other when you got the spare chance, exchanged numbers, and talked more these past weeks. So much so, you had even told him you were going to be out of town for this trip this weekend. 

The cocky smile he wore when he saw you this afternoon let you know why he hadn’t decided to share that he’d be here too. The look of surprise on your face was exactly what he wanted to see.

He’d tried to set up a time to see you in the time between your meeting and now, but you were always busy when he was free and vice versa. Honestly, a part of him was worried if you knew he’d be here, you would’ve found a way out. 

God, was he wrong. 

You’d been desperate for this man since the night you met him.

As you pushed the door further open, you couldn’t help but admire his form. He was naked as he sat on the edge of the bed, the muscles in his solid back flexing as his strong arm moved up and down while he stroked himself.

You didn’t even realize you were breathing heavier as you inched closer, his moans the only thing you could focus on now.

Lee could sense you coming up behind him, he heard you when you pushed the door open, and now he was really putting on a show for you. He wanted you to know exactly what you did to him, with just a goddamn photo. He wanted you to hear how fucking good you make him feel without even having to have his hands on you. 

You aren’t thinking as you climb onto the bed, crawling closer to him until you're against him entirely. You take a second before you allow your hands to touch him, slipping them up his back, over his shoulders and down his chest as he purrs, leaning back into you.

You’re mesmerized by his movements, his fist pumping over his leaking cock as he keeps his eyes on his phone, your photo taking up the screen as his mind runs wild with all the things he wants to do to you. 

“As good of a picture as that is,” you speak headily in his ear, causing goosebumps to break out over his skin, “I’m sure I can do more for you in person.” You smile as he licks his pink lips, taking his phone from him before gently tossing it up the bed.

“‘Bout damn time,” he responds gruffly, turning to capture your lips in his as he lets go of his cock. He holds your head with one hand as he threatens to consume you with his kiss alone.

He then reaches his arm down and takes you by the waist as he moves to lay down on the bed in the same moment, everything much more hurried now as he urges you to move on top of him.

Lee is completely naked as you straddle him, your night slip raised over your hips to allow the position. 

“Fuck I’ve been picturing you like this since the night of your dad’s party,” he said as his hands moved from your thighs, up your hips, and under the slip to push it up your body further.

“Let’s not talk about my dad right now,” you rasped before you allowed him to raise the slip higher, finally pulling it over your head and tossing it to the side.

“How pissed do you think he’d be if he knew his precious daughter was seconds away from riding his friend’s cock in his own cabin, huh?”

“Lee, please,” you moan with a pout.

He chuckles as he reaches a hand up from your hip to your breasts, pinching a nipple meanly as you whine, moving your hips over his to no avail. He keeps you exactly where he wants you.

“You made me wait, it’s only fair, darlin’,” he smirks, clearly enjoying himself.

“You’re gonna be left waiting even longer if they get back soon,” you try to argue.

“You think I won’t still fuck you if your parents are here?” he asks as he takes hold of his cock again. You move your hips, trying to make it easier for him to position himself as he moves his dripping cockhead up and down your slit. You moan helplessly as he rubs against your clit, leaning over him as you urge him to just put it in already. His tauntings aren’t doing anything to help, either.

You can feel his tip at your entrance as you feel his lips against your ear, 

“Let your dad hear you screamin’ daddy,” he growls as he thrusts into you at last, a wanton moan escaping you as your hands find purchase on his shoulders. 

He growls again as your walls grip his length. He holds you there for a long moment as you adjust to his intrusion, his fingers digging into your fleshy hips.

“God, you feel so good,” you whimper before you begin to move atop him, his hands leading your movements.

Your head falls back in pleasure as you ride him, the way he fills you up, a delight you don’t think you’ve ever experienced. 

Lee watches you with heavy lids, his blue eyes dark with unrestrained lust. He lets you take control as you move your hips over his, chasing your own pleasure as each move stimulates your clit.

He can’t stop himself though, eventually his hips jerk up into you, causing you to clench around him, your hold on him tightening when he begins fucking up into you with abandon.

You fall onto him with a cry as he grips your ass almost painfully.

The first slap he lands is sharp and stings but has your walls gripping his shaft even tighter.

“You like that, baby?” he snickers through a moan as you babble mindlessly, his cock still thrusting into you as his hips never slow.

The second slap burns more than the first but Lee quickly follows it up with his palm massaging the sting gently as you moan meekly.

“Daddy asked you a question, darlin’,” he taunts as his pace slows. The drag of his cock is still long and deep, though. He ensures you feel every inch of him as he slides in and out of your cunt. 

“Yes,” you answer as you pick your hips up and down, wanting it harder.

Another slap has you gasping as you peer up at Lee. Your mouth goes dry at the look in his eyes as his hips stop moving entirely.

“Yes, daddy,” you murmur as you hold his stare.

A growl ripes from his throat at your words as he holds your waist tightly, flipping you so you’re on your back as he hovers above you.

The sight of Lee between your legs sends a new wave of slickness to your pussy as you relax into the bed with a pleasured sigh.

He positions himself at your entrance and slides right in, pulling you closer by your hips as he thrusts into your wet heat.

He groans as he leans over you, looking down at your exposed body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You’re stunned at his words. You knew he was attracted to you, duh, but there was something so genuine about the way he said it. It sent a flutter to your belly as you couldn’t do anything but stare back up at him with doe eyes as he fucked you so perfectly.

You reached up and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips into his as your response. He licked into your mouth and you let him dominate the kiss as you followed his lead.

He finally broke it when you were both nearly out of breath. 

“Goddamn perfect,” he husked as he leaned back up, rolling his hips into yours, his cock sliding right against the spot you most wanted to feel him. He groped your breasts, kneading them with his large hand, playing with your nipples as he growled and groaned, his touch and filthy sounds only spurning you on further.

“Lee,” you whimpered, grabbing at him as your walls tightened, that coil in your belly tightening more and more with his every thrust.

“‘M right there, baby. Right there with you,” he huffed, “just a little more.”

“Please,” you breathed, your eyes squeezing tightly as you tried to hold off your orgasm just a little longer, “please, Lee.”

He grunted, hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as he fucked your harder, stretching you delightfully. 

“Please come with me, Daddy, please,” you begged, earning a deep thrust and a symphony of sinful noises and curses from the man pounding into you. Another harsh thrust had you nearly squealing as you finally came around his thick length, the hot pleasure shooting through you before crashing down wave after euphoric wave as your body tensed and shook.

Cries of pleasure and his name like a prayer left your lips as your walls milked his cock, his come filling you up as he let himself burst inside of you. The hot, thick ropes of his release hitting your walls had you squeezing him tighter as you whimpered beneath him.

As you began to come down and tried to regulate your breathing, his hand on your face had you opening your eyes before they closed once more as he pressed his swollen lips to yours. The kiss was slow and deep as his hips slowed and stilled against yours while your hands found his face in return, holding him to you. His cock softened and slipped out of you, causing you to murmur into the kiss at the loss of him. He smirked against your lips before he ended it, pressing his forehead to yours instead as you breathed each other in. 

You peered into his eyes as he stared down at you.

There was a softness in his gaze that you swear could’ve had you melting into the mattress right then and there.

He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but return it as you smiled demurely back.

Your thumb mindlessly stroked his cheek before he nuzzled into your touch. Lee let his body lay down next to you on the mattress, holding your hand against his face and pulling your body closer to his with his free hand.

He sighed contentedly as you turned into him. 

“Was the wait worth it?” you asked softly.

He looked to you, squeezing you just a bit tighter, “Well worth it.”

You laughed, “Good. I’m glad. We’ll have to do this again sometime,” you simpered, pushing off of him, turning back to get off the bed.

“Where do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart?” he said, stopping you from leaving.

“What, I can’t stay in here. My mom’ll realize I’m not in my room and freak out. She’s paranoid about me being taken by some mystery monster up here, has been since I was a kid,” you reminisced. 

“Darlin’,” he drawled, rolling over you once again, “I think she already knows you’ve been taken by the monster,”

You laughed as he attacked your neck with kisses, holding you close to him. 

“Oh, and you, Sheriff, you’re the monster?”

“Mhm. Prepared to take her daughter away to his lair. Keep her all to himself,” he murmured against your skin.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” you said, running your fingers through his short hair, “I don’t foresee her putting up much of a fight.”

You could feel his smirk before he pulled away to look you in the eyes once again. 

“I am serious, darlin’. I think she already knows we may be up to something.”

“How would she possibly know that?”

He sighed, turned and layed down next to you again, “I asked your dad for his permission before I tried to ask you out the other week.”

“What? You did?” you asked in disbelief, “and he said yes?”

“I was as shocked as you are,” he smiled. “He asked me the other day at work how it went and when I told him we hadn’t been able to set anything up, he invited me here this weekend.”

“Ah,” all the pieces were connecting now as you let out a breathless chuckle. “Hm.”

“There a problem with that?”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, I just. I don’t normally tell my parents about the people I see until things are, uhm…serious, I guess?... And I mean, this was great, I would absolutely love to do it again,” you smiled, “but, uh, what exactly are we doing? Just so we’re on the same page, so we know where we stand.”

“Sex is great,” he agreed, “but I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t hoping for more.”

“More as in, like, dating?”

He turned to be face to face with you before he spoke, “That was my intention.”

You nodded then, fighting a bigger smile from breaking out across your face. 

“Okay,” as you spoke, you could hear the front door downstairs open. Your eyes went wide as your head shot to the still open door of the room, “Shit. Well for now, I’d prefer my parents not know I desecrated their beloved cabin by getting creampied by their friend in the bed that they paid for,” you whisper ranted as you clamored off the bed and pulled your night slip back on. You were about to rush to the door, trying to beat them up the stairs as Lee sat up and leaned against the headboard, watching you, quite entertained by your frantic state before you stopped in your tracks, turned around and padded back over to him, “I’ll leave my door open, but you’ll have to wait until my parents shut their light off if you want round two,” you whispered, kissing him gently before slipping away just as fast, shutting his door behind you. All he could do was smile, still basking in the afterglow and the idea of what was still to come.

It was an hour later, after your mom had checked in on you - a habit from the past twenty something years since they’d bought the cabin - and their lights went out across the hall, that your bed dipped as Lee quietly crawled in beside you.

His arms wrapped around you, his lips pressed against your ear,

“You said somethin’ bout round two. Much as I loved hearin’ you moan for me, let’s see how quiet you can be for Daddy.”

You whimpered almost inaudibly, but Lee heard it anyway, his large hand coming up to your throat, instantly causing you to get even more wet for him as he squeezed ever so slightly.

“You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?” he prompted, a wicked smirk on his lips as he pressed his boxer cover erection against your bare ass.

Your voice was a pathetic whisper as you pressed back against him,

“Yes, Daddy.”

[space-blue]

Fixing Vander and Silco's story (a bit)

Using canon events! Sadly we can't actually fix it, but I hope this makes it a little better. I make my own edit proposal at the end that changes the bar scene to include Felicia without issues.

They meet in the mines, and meet Felicia and her partner there too. They end up together somehow (I think we can put the brotherly allegations to rest now, eh?) and one of them (or both) inherit/buy a bar.

Although Vander is the barman, there is no indication Silco doesn't own or co-own the place. After all he comes to take it eventually as his own, and he's still not bartending. That's just not his gig.

It's implied that Vander and Silco made it, as in, got away from the mines, while Felicia clearly didn't, as she comes home to both her daughters with mining gear and gloves.

So despite Vander and Silco building the Lanes together, the mines aren't closed, and the work "isn't done".

Felicia says they've done it, and Vander is happy to celebrate their success. Meanwhile, Silco has his "NoZ" Nation of Zaun book in which he's scribbling, still planning.

Vander's first memory that Viktor sees even has Silco holding that book.

Later, in season 1 episode 3, we see that Vander tells Silco that he had Vander's respect, the Lanes' respect, but it "was never enough".

There's also this fakeout moment in the memory at the bar, where Vander says they're done, and Silco replies with "You're gravely mistaken". And I thought he was going to go all zealous and say "We'll only be done when we have the Nation of Zaun", but no, he claims he's Bozo 1.

And imo, he is probably right. He calls out Vander in act 1 saying "I trusted you and you betrayed me", and Vander does not contest this. It makes the most in character sense as well that Silco is the brains of the operation while Vander is the brawn.

And we can conclude that Silco's goals were always "bigger" and that the Lanes were indeed not enough.

Years pass, during which we can only assume Silco keeps building his Nation of Zaun and Vander happily bartends and manages the Lanes with Silco. Felicia keeps working the mines and raises Vi, then Powder.

Vi is at least 11, if not more, by the time she's on the bridge. This is just consistent with her model, but also to make her 18+ by the time of act 2.

It's a long ass time for Vander and Silco to be running a bar and the Lanes together. Even assuming Vi is more 8 or 9yo, Vander and Silco spend all that time being together.

Sadly, their models aren't aged very well.

We are also forced here to make some unfortunate assumptions.

It's not a problem, IMO, for Silco to know Felicia and be close to her. It's a problem for him to not be close to Vi and Powder too. Close enough to recognise them at least.

It's easy to say, "Well, Felicia went back to the mines and raised her kids and wasn't super involved with Vander and Silco, who lived much higher up in their bar." Adult friendships and all that.

IT MAKES SENSE, but then it makes zero sense that Vander would murder his life's partner, a man he's been with 10 years at MINIMUM (fuck knows how long they were together while in the mines), over the death of a friend in a revolt they allegedly BOTH participated in.

The memories also imply that Silco is responsible somehow, for throwing a molotov. And yet the molotov doesn't kill the enforcer.

But Vander is shown in the opening of Act 1 season 1 pummeling one to death himself, long after the rest of the revolt has died down. That enforcer wasn't getting back up lol

So whatever we pick, because the writers made Felicia and Silco close, they create a plot hole either way.

Either Vander is whacko and murders his husband over a dead friend at a revolt he set up (since he repeatedly apologises for what he did, and claims he "lost his head after she died" and had that guilt on his hands too)

Or Silco and Vi and Powder spend ALL of season 1 acting like they don't know each other at all. Then Silco takes in Powder and somehow never comments on the fact he was friends with her mom.

Everything being triggered by Felicia's death also means that Vander's emotional thematic moment dropping the gauntlets after seeing what his violence led to is then followed up by a horrible attempted murder on the love of his life, which is... you know. Bad writing.

So I propose that they indeed drift apart. Silco knows of Felicia's kids, and they hangout a bit, but they aren't that close. She's busy mining and being a mom, and Silco is busy making the safe Zaun he promised to deliver.

The creation of that Zaun leads them to act out revolts and uprisings. Vander is happy to follow. He's angry, like he tells Vi. And this manifests in violence. Silco points his violence. It's how they create the Lanes and the moniker of Hound of the Underground. A hound usually has a master, after all.

Vander is Silco's hound, and I think, in Vander's mind this absolves him of some of the consequences of his actions.

So when his friend dies on the Bridge, even if they haven't been that close in a while, well, it's easy to put the blame on Silco.

Since we're following the new canon timeline... we'll have to have him go back with the girls, ready to turn a new leaf.

I think the best way here is to have him either dropping them at an orphanage, or back at their home (trusting Vi to look after Powder for a while) or with friends.

That way, Vi and Powder aren't immediately in Silco's legs back at the drop.

Then Vander and Silco take part in the "clean up" at the bridge. They go get bodies, and since they have no real estate in the fissures, they commit them to the sea (we have canon monsters in there, so I'm sure it all gets gobbled up).

That way, we explain why Vander is weirdly shaved, and why Silco and him are at in the Pilt: they just commited the bodies of the fallen to the waters.

There may have been many others, but Silco and Vander stay there, in the shallows, as they talk.

Vander is done. He doesn't want more of this. He thinks Silco went too far with pushing this one to the bridge. Piltover got defensive and they lost too many people.

Silco doesn't get it. Where he goes, so does Vander, but Vander is his own man, he decided to come too, and he killed enforcers too. Felicia's death is tragic, but as he later will tell Renni about the death of her son: at least she died fighting for the cause, and not some petty infighting, or worse, an accident at the shitty mines.

Vander, the Hound, is not only mad with grief, he refuses to carry the blame of his own actions. It's a character flaw and that's fine! The angry man channels that anger with violence, the only way he knows how.

Silco is probably shocked, and may not say the right things to calm Vander down.

Silco is under the assumption that Vander BELIEVES IN HIS DREAM. That he's a true believer of the Nation of Zaun, like Sevika turns out to be. A true believer would understand sacrifice. A true believer would understand too, that stopping now, after Felicia's death, would make THAT VERY DEATH POINTLESS.

So maybe he screams at Vander! What do you MEAN abandoning the fight? What do you mean, being content with the Lanes? How dare you? You'd make her sacrifice meaningless! You'd make Felicia die a pointless death!

And Vander would bellow that it's over. No more death. No more bloodshed. He rescued her kids from that bridge, and they don't deserve to die too, they don't deserve to see more death.

And Silco screams back that it's their job to create Zaun so these children won't have to see more death. Vander is just delaying the struggle.

And then, perhaps, Silco may even mock him. Say that Vander can't change like that. That he's not that sort of person, to just hang up his gauntlets and go peaceful. That Felicia's blood is on his hands too, and that the only way out is through more blood, more sacrifice.

It would be a horrible point to make, if then Vander truly loses it. Silco runs, and Vander's hound comes out, just grabbing Silco and trying to drown him.

It would be poetic, because then Vander goes home in shame. Gets his arm patched up, hides the scar under a brace, collects the kids and tries to pretend like HE CAN BE THAT MAN. Even though he surrendered his gauntlets and metaphorical violence, and tries to lean into the bartender chill persona, there's what he did to Silco.

And later he'll tell Vander "I'll show you what you really are". Because Silco knows that Vander's promises of being a peaceful good dad are flimsy at best.

Anyway, Vander goes home, and eventually the impact of what he's done really hits him. He's single now, and with kids, and the Lanes to run, and nobody knows where Silco is.

Vander slowly realises Silco was right about one thing. Just because Vander followed, doesn't mean he wasn't behind that event on the bridge. Becoming the solo leader of the Lanes has to have hammered that home for him. Suddenly so much responsibility thrust on him.

So Felicia's death was on him too, and his actions against Silco are the proof that he is indeed the sort of man Silco said he was. At any rate, surrendering violence as his first reaction to any trigger will take a lot of work.

He goes to their old hideout and leaves a letter for Silco.

In the happy AU, Silco finds it, and returns to Vander BEFORE ever meeting Singed. There is no glowing eye, no shimmer, and no cannery.

In our AU, Silco never finds the letter. He finds Singed instead. Starts helping him develop shimmer.

I've been thinking that since the goal of shimmer is a form of "keeping alive" and also "bringing back to life", then it's possible that Silco's glowing eye is a byproduct of shimmer experimentation.

And that the only way to keep it alive and function is more shimmer injections. It would otherwise be grey and dead like in the Nice AU.

So Singed is also a factor here. He gives our Silco a real way to deal scary violence to Piltover. And this changes our Silco. He's more radicalised, and more opposed to Vander, having discovered that Vander works with Grayson to keep Zaun under Piltover's boot (basically making sure the boot stays, but doesn't press down too hard).

Vander is, as always, the enforcer of the status quo.

And though this works for them timeline wise, it sadly doesn't change the fact that Silco should know who Vander's kids are.

Vi and Jinx can be excused for not recognising him, what with him being one of their mom's adult friends, and scarred. But Silco doesn't have that luxury. His great friend Felicia had two very distinctive kids, ONE OF WHICH VANDER FUCKING NAMED! And her death triggered his husband so badly he tried to kill Silco over it. If anything, Silco would be hyper-aware of Felicia's kids.

And no amount of alternate fix-its changes that. It's permanent damage to season 1's Silco.

I feel like we can fix Vander's side of things by inventing an entire scene at the Pilt as I did above, but we can't fix 10 years of knowing your friend's kids and then a lifetime of acting like you don't know them.

I think it also cheapens the found family aspect of both Vander and Silco's adoption. You're left to wonder if they took in the girls only because they were friends with the mom.

Silco's adoption of Jinx and co-dependence with her was great because it spoke of the similar shape of their traumas, and how unexpected their bond seemed.

But now it's redolent of friendly obligation. And lies.

How would I fix it by keeping Felicia in the picture?

I would fully remove Felicia's one-on-one with the boys. That night at the bar? It's a party. Young Sevika is here too!

Felicia and many others are there, all congratulating Vander and Silco over the creation of the Lanes. Eventually Silco tires of the social niceties and goes to write in his notebook at the bar. Or maybe there's a montage of the night as the crowds thin.

In the end, Silco is writing, and Vander is still socialising. He talks to 3 people--Felicia, her husband, and a random person. They thank him for all his work. They've done it! And the conditions in the mines are so much better now thanks to XYZ!

Vander is beaming, he's just so pleased. It's clear for him this is the end goal. Felicia asks him, pointing to Silco, if he's okay.

Vander laughs, says Silco is fine, but he's already got his head back in the clouds. You see, Silco doesn't just want the Lanes, he dreams of a free Nation of Zaun.

The other 2 laugh, but Felicia sobers up. She rubs her belly, thoughtful. Then she says "Sounds like a dream worth fighting for."

I don't think she even needs to say anything about being pregnant, but she could go on with something like "I'm expecting. A girl, I think. I know. And I would love if she could grow in a safe city. I'm so scared she'll have to live the way I did, growing up.'

And Vander smiles sadly and tells her, 'We've gotten this far, and we're not going back. We'll make Zaun safe for your kiddo, I promise you that.'

And that's it.

Vander knows OF Felicia. She is a community member. He knows her enough, maybe from Lanes meetings, that eventually he can recognise her children. But they're not friends, and SILCO definitely isn't friends.

And the disagreement after the bridge is fully about where to go from then on, and Vander deciding he wants to run the Lanes and keep them safe, that what they have now is good enough, while Silco wants "more".

That disagreement can turn nasty, and the fact Vander tried to drown Silco becomes a statement about how violent and temperamental he is as "The Hound of the Underground". Something he'll regret soon enough and spend the next few years working hard to try and change.

What do you think?

[incorrectbatfam]

Gen Alpha Damian and Jon are funny, but I really feel bad for Dick and Clark, they're the sweetest boomer here

If Damian and Jon are Gen Alpha then that means Dick is older Gen Z and Clark is a millennial. So it'd be more like:

[Gen Alpha parent support group]

Clark: I can't understand these kids nowadays. Back in the day, the only things you had to keep track of were MySpace and AOL. BTW my parents didn't let me have them until I was almost 18 and even then it was only for an hour a day on our dial-up. Now I see Jon stopping in the middle of dinner to snap his BeReal or whatever before I got him to put his phone away but it's like... what happened? Where did the time go.

Dick: Facts, I vibe so hard with that. No cap, last night Damian was highkey shading me by saying I got too much Boomer energy to look like a snack and I deadass almost threw hands with a literal fetus before I had a galaxy brain moment and instead spilled the tea about his weeb stan finsta to my bestie Jason who made a kidsona burner to lurk and lemme tell you he ate and left no crumbs.

Clark: *runs out the room crying*

Bruce:

Bruce: All in favor of raising the group's age minimum?

[popcornforone]

Handy

A Dave York Fic

Day 17 of Pedrotober (Arm Sling Prompt)

Masterlist

You wait half of Pedrotober for a Dave Fic & you get 2 in 4 days. Thank you all for the love of the first one by the way. Every time I’ve picked up my phone it’s said someone has liked & reblogged it. It really means the world. Also Dave the only one other than Ezra who we might find in an arm sling.

Synopsis:- Daves most recent injury from a mission isn’t one you can resolve, without going to hospital.

Word count:- 1250

Warnings over & above:- oral sex (female receiving) fingering, rule breaking, injury detail, meds, swearing & as always DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING! Cos he’s a menace & controlling

Thanks as always for the read peoples. Hope you are loving this & thats @norththelemon & @alyssamariag for the prompts.

You’re sat in the emergency room waiting for ages. He hates it when you force him to do this. He’s usually certain you can resolve any medical issue he has. But when his shoulder wouldn’t pop back into its socket at all, you had to get some trained medical help for him. It was easy to explain that he “fell through the fence”, it would match the scars on that side of the fence that you’d badly sorted out as he sat there groaning about his shoulder. Looked like you’d done your wife duty for your husband patching him up. But the shoulder wouldn’t go. So now Dave is getting the best care available. At least it’s not a bullet that you have to explain. No longer are you squeamish, blood & stiches are now at least a monthly occurrence.

Out he step 5 hours later, your bad stitching redone, his arm in a dark blue sling. A few more bruises have come through but other than that, he’s still your menacingly handsome Dave York.

“Tadah” He states & try’s to stretch but winces, clearly still in some pain. “Good as new”

“Well next time baby if you pop your shoulder out we’re coming straight here.” He raises an eyebrow at you & you quickly cover your tracks. “He plays lots of sports, is very active, usually we can pop dislocations back in.” Dave rolls his eyes, clearly you’ve said too much & a doctor tells you both how many meds he should take for the pain & signs him off work for a week. You can see from the look in Daves eyes that he has no intention in taking them & that he will be back in the office tomorrow, maybe not on a mission but planning the next one. You both know you have stronger medication at home, not that Dave will even take that.

As you unlock the front door about an hour later, Dave pushes you inside quickly & shuts the door behind the two of you, pinning you against the wall. Even with his arm in a sling he’s still so powerful. You’ve never complained about being man handled by him, you like the rough.

“I’m a sports guy huh?” He says with a grin. “I play hard… & rough… I’m active?” You gulp, you know the mood he’s in. Your eyes dilated.

“Yes sir” you whimper, your thighs part slightly. “I only pick the best boys on the team to be mine.”

“Thought you wanted a man?” He kicks your legs apart. “A man who still has needs”

“Well good luck with that, doctor said no physical excursion for 10 days minimum” you chuckle & boop his nose, he knows you are right but he still has wickedness in his eyes.

“There are other ways I can get my desire” he said. His crazy possessive eyes never leaving yours, he takes a deep breath & then his lips meet yours. The tongue went in on the first date & sex happened date three. You were married in a year & cutting out his 5th bullet in 18 months. The man’s always been crazy about you, not one to be held back & the way his tongue takes in every cavity as you panties dampening. You’ve always been crazy about Dave too.

“Fuck Dave” you moan as you catch your breath as he starts leaving little love bits on your neck. You spend more time doing make up on your neck that your face, he just loves that little crook to much. He grabs your arm & pulls you into the lounge with the hand that works. He then sighs as he pushes you away before he drops to his knees.

“I need a reward”

“For being brave”

“No for going to hospital” he growls tugging at your jeans. For a man with only one hand he’s still very good at using just that.

“Doctor said no over doing it Dave…”

“Sit on my face!” It’s a firm command as your jeans reach your ankles. He kisses up both of your legs. Your thighs always tremble. He then shuffles back the perches up in the sofa behind him. “That’s not a request sweetheart” he snarls licking his lips. “I want you to walk towards me in just your panties & then stand on the sofa & let me do my magic” you look excitedly back at Dave. It’s rare he lets you receive oral first. You tug on your red panties as he gets comfortable.

“Yes sir, anything for my big brave broad husband”. You do as he requested naked except for the panties. He rubs his thighs as you walk towards him, seeing his erection get ever bigger. You stand on the sofa & he whimpers.

“I can smell how ready you are, for me baby” he says eyes dilated he’s trying not to droll. “Lower baby” you do as he asks & he slips your red panties to the side. His large nose already nuzzling against your clit. You grip the top of the sofa. “Gonna need your body to do some work baby” he says. You know exactly how you want this to feel so you start to rub your clit against his nose & you moan as your entrance feels every couple of moves his flat tongue against him.

“Fuck Dave”

“Yea baby like that, enjoying it” you moan & gasp. “Take that as a yes.” He’s freed his hand from his sling & you go to protest but as he grabs both your thighs & brings you fully down on his face your whine.

“Oooh fuckerty fuck”

“Yea baby” in his tongue slips. It’s not as far as his cock or even his fingers, but you’re fluttering & tense in all of those sensitive places. You love it when he eats you out.

“Dave oh god Dave yes yes yes more” you then wince. Two fingers slip it side you & his tongue is now souly attending your clit. Your hips rocking, the grip on the back of the sofa turning your knuckles white. The rhythm increasing, your moans getting louder. It’s a good thing you dropped the kids off at your parents before taking Dave to hospital.

“Dave im close fuck I’m gonna cum, oh god oh god yes yes yesss fuckkkkk” you can’t hold on when he adds a final finger. Sloppy noises from his thrusting fill the air & you become a quivering wreck as you cum. Dave sighs. He withdraws his sodden fingers & returns his mouth to your sex. His bad arms your carefully take as that had been the one pleasuring you & you suck his fingers cleans. You know that always makes him happy when you clean up the mess.

“Fuck baby” he says as you slowly lower yourself off him & readjust your underwear & sit on the sofa next to him. “Why do you always taste of heaven down there”

“Cos you are the devil & need a taste of sweetness” you cackle before kissing him.

“Who says we are done tonight?” He replies. “Maybe this Angel needs a taste of hell”

“Well let me at least get you into bed first, then I will suck your cock til you can’t cum anymore”

“Is that a challenge?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Well let’s see if your up for it Dave”

[pinkv-0-dka]

Media and information about Guilherme Taucci

For those who don't speak Portuguese and want to know more about the Suzano massacre and Guilherme

About Guilherme

Guilherme Taucci Monteiro was born on 07/05/2001 in the city of Mogi das Cruzes, in the interior of São Paulo.

He moved to Suzano at a very young age to live with his grandparents in the Jardim Imperador neighborhood.

He came from a humble family. At the age of 6 months, he began to be raised by his maternal grandparents, Benedito Luiz Cardoso and Arlete Taucci, because his parents, Tatiana Taucci and Rogério Machado Monteiro, were drug addicts. His mother already had a son before him, Victor, who was raised by his father's family. Years later, she gave birth to two girls, who lived with Taucci and his grandparents. In 2015, she had Vitória, who lives with her father.

He was a quiet boy until his teenage years. In 2017, he dropped out of his second year of high school at Raul Brasil, claiming he had no friends. Some people remember that he was not bullied, while others claim that he was teased because of the acne on his face and back – one of his biggest insecurities. Benedito even paid for him to get acne treatment. “He studied until his second year of high school, last year. Then he dropped out of school. He complained that people were making fun of the pimples on his face and back. They gave him embarrassing nicknames. I even paid for his [acne] treatment,” he recalled. He worked with his maternal uncle, Jorge Antonio Moraes, but was fired in 2017.

Antonio was not the only family member with whom Taucci had disagreements. Benedito stated that Guilherme had never drunk or used drugs, at least not in front of him, and used to say that he “wanted to burn all drug users”, referring to his parents. Taucci and his mother didn’t get along and rarely saw each other. His grandfather, relatives and people who knew Taucci all had good things to say about him and said it was impossible to imagine he would do something like that. His grandfather said, “He was a good boy, he didn’t have any drug problems and he never gave me any trouble.” Loving, obedient, passionate about games, polite, careful with his sisters – a 9-year-old girl and a 7-year-old girl – quiet and shy, these are adjectives he likes to describe his grandson. “If someone told me that, I would say it was a lie. He was always very polite, very reserved and very respectful. He was very fond of his grandfather. I can’t understand what could have caused such an outburst,” says his aunt Karina Morais. “They were normal boys (Luiz and Taucci). They said good morning, good afternoon, good night. They didn’t do drugs,” says driver Cássio Nogueira, 39, a neighbor who saw them grow up. “He always liked Nazism, gothic clothes and that emo fringe. The boys have fun with these things, it wasn't just him. My poor son,” says his mother. Benedito claims that Taucci had plans for his life.

Months after the massacre, he would turn 18 and Luiz Henrique de Castro's father had promised Taucci a job in the same position as his friend, cleaning and preserving squares in São Paulo. According to Benedito, he would earn R$1,400 per month and would receive food vouchers. He told his grandfather that he would give him the voucher to help with household expenses, since Benedito has a minimum retirement income. He also said that Taucci used to accept short-term jobs to buy games or other items online. The last job he supposedly got was at a hot dog stand, earning R$600.00.

Taucci’s grandmother passed away in December 2018. Benedito recalls that Guilherme seemed indifferent at first, but when asked if he wasn’t suffering the loss, he replied: “Grandpa, I felt it on the way.” On the morning of the attack, Guilherme left a burned photo on the floor of his room, which his mother recognized as being of him with the teenager’s father. Benedito also talks about his grandson’s behavior the day before the massacre, “Yesterday, when he came home from the street at night, I heated up dinner for him. Everything was fine,” Guilherme ate rice, beans and a hamburger. “He loved hamburgers.”

We can’t pinpoint the exact reasons for him carrying out a school shooting, since Benedito always gave him what he wanted: his computer, TV, internet and, as he has said several times, he seemed “fine” with his life. No one would ever know what they planned to do.

translation: pinkv0dka

sources: https://blogfamigerados.wordpress.com/2020/08/23/infancia-e-adolescencia-de-guilherme-taucci/

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for mentioning college again to my online friend, despite her telling me she knows it's not for her/not making a decision about it right now?

We both turned 18 this year, and are in our last years of highschool, and hopefully will both graduate this year! We met two years ago, and call and play games together sometimes, send each other selfies, share our silly crushes—she's the best girl friend I have right now and im very grateful for her.

Some info about me: both of my parents grew up very low income and from rough places and got full scholarships/a deal(like they pay for your college, and then you work for them after), because of this they're financially doing much better than both their families(my mother regularly sending money back home to pay for surgeries , bills, etc.). All of this is to say I've been raised with the mindset that higher education is my ticket to bettering my life, and I take school very seriously. I live in an area with a lot of immigrants, and all my friends do plan on going to college. Here is my disclaimer that I know college is *not* for everyone, and you do not need to go to college to be successful. But my friend is in the same stage in life as me, and I think it could be beneficial for her. She's not the best student at all(also home-schooled and does online schooling), but she's passing all her classes. We've talked about it before and I've asked if she's thought about college, and she said no because everyone in her family who went was just left with debt. Additionally she's not motivated in school now, so she doesn't think she would be motivated in college and would just end up as a "money dump". She's also talked about college with her mom, who said that she was only 18 and didn't need to make decisions about it right now. Right now her plan is to get a minimum wage job after high school(she's mentioned a fast food chain). I do think it would be good for her to get out of the house because right now she's basically stuck at home because her mom doesn't like going places. To my knowledge she has no friends irl, because of the homeschooling. Which is one of the reasons why I think college would be great for her--the chance to be with other people your own age.

We've only talked about college one time where I just asked, and after that I haven't mentioned it because I don't want to act like I have any say in her life decisions or make her feel bad. I've just been thinking about it lately because logically to me it seems like if she did want to go to college, now would be the best time because she would have the support of her online school where she has a counselor. Her mom didn't go to college and she isn't in regular contact with her dad.

For more context my family is middle class and I'm not sure what her financial situation is, but I do know comfortable but not deeply so. I would hate to bring up college if it's something she knows she cant afford( but long term I think going to college would help her make more money than any job she started now, which is why Im thinking about bringing it up again). I don't know if this is enough context, and I'm willing to provide more! I'll admit I'm not the smartest teen out there, so if you see any thing wrong with my thinking or think I'm a total asshole please tell me and I'll check my behavior. Im also keeping in mind her lack of motivation that she mentioned she had in school, and of course her mental health and wellbeing is of like. the utmost importance.

so, would I be the asshole for bringing up college with her again, despite knowing her situation? I really love this friend and the last thing I would want to do with her is be disrespectful and insensitive. thank you for very much, Tumblr! any advice you can give in the comments would be greatly appreciated.

What are these acronyms?

[monsterspet]

Had a thought about Captain Price

A/N: Don't we all?

Going to need you to trust me on this.

So - as of MW3 John's age is set at 38 in the year 2023. We also know he joined the infantry at 16 - then onto the army properly at 18.

John would have been 16 in 2001. In the UK. Which was when arguably we were still in the midst of a teen pregnancy epidemic across the country. Things have significantly improved since then.

I know you know where I'm going with this but just stick with me.

Now - for those of you who are maybe from outside the UK I can tell you now that recruiting kids right out of high-school has always been a bit iffy here in the public eye. Even more so when that kid hasn't even sat their A-levels at 18.

John dropped out of school to become a military man. That's just a fact. Which you can totally do from 16 - but most schools discourage it heavily.

English teens do not drop out of school to join the army if they have other options. We have apprenticeships or college if they don't like the traditional school route. And both of those can lead on to University courses.

John's only other option was to work - likely for minimum wage which I believe was like £3.50 an hour back then. It may have even been less given he was under 18.

Admittedly the army is good money for a kid that age. Especially if you don't see yourself going down a more traditional employment route.

But in what world would Price be so eager to earn good money fast? We know he's a smart guy - we've seen it in game. The man could have easily gotten into Uni. This is where we veer off the rails into glorious fanfic girly nonsense and I apologise.

Say he got his then girlfriend pregnant. We know he's a sensible guy - and we know he has a strong sense of responsibility and loyalty to the people he cares about.

He's obviously going to support his child and the mother of his baby. That's just in his nature.

He joins the military in order to be able to provide for them both. Now admittedly that means he's away from both his little family and everything he knows but let's be realistic - most teen parents don't stay together long term. I know so many personally where they don't even make it to the due date.

But if he's bringing a baby into this world he's damn well going to make sure it's taken care of.

Which leads me to my next point about what Price is like as a man in basically every fic he's in.

This man does not just radiate "Daddy" energy - this man is a Father.

Endlessly supportive of his boys in the unit, and fiercely protective.

He is willing to do almost anything to keep not only the 141 safe but the people back home as well (we see this in game as well when he drags in the Butcher's family to interrogate him).

We all know this man is wearing socks and sandals on holiday. We all know he's manning the grill at the BBQs. We all know he can't get up out of a chair without the iconic "Dad groan".

He is also far too good at putting up with the nonsense we write about Soap and Gaz in particular. They're the unit children and they certainly put John through his damn paces. Which he seems to put up with - with remarkable ease most of the time.

This man is a "weekend Dad". He sees his kid briefly when on leave or every other weekend depending on whether or not he's deployed. We've seen no evidence of a ring.

Now admittedly when you're running secret missions across the globe you don't want the enemy figuring out you have something at home to lose but this gives us some really nice single-dad!Price opportunities and I'm going to run with that.

But - assuming he had a kid at 16. That child is now 21/22. Prime age for the military. And roughly the right age for a steamy workplace romance with one of the other 141 members? Maybe?

I saw on here a while back this great series where Soap was in a secret relationship with Price's niece (I cannot for the life of me remember the creators name and I'm SO SORRY) and I raise you:

Secret relationship 141 x Price's!child

The angst - the steamy forbidden romance - the angry Dad energy - the potential SLOWBURN.

It's all right there for the taking.

Even better if we get some daddy issues from Y/N because John was never around. Like they didn't even tell him they were signing up in the first place. Maybe they don't have his last name and suddenly turn up under his command. The DRAMA.

I swear one day I'll actually have the time to write all these fics.

-Pet x

[snickerdoodlles]

emberfaye replied to your post "choose violence ask game except its just me complaining about fic tropes..."

☕☕☕☕

am going to do my absolute BEST not to ramble too much here, but okay so!! 4 Chay things that will have me back-flipping out of a fic at the speed of light:

babyfication of Chay

i just. ugh. ugh. he is not a baby. he's a 17-18yo guy who half-raised himself due to some shit circumstances and took care of himself entirely by himself for minimum several months. the only difference between him and an adult is that he's not making his own income. Porsche and Arthee doing their best to give Chay as much of a childhood as they can afford him still doesn't change the fact that Chay grew up young and fast just like the rest of this cast. if he acts uwu innocent baby i'm gone. if the author calls him an uwu baby in their notes i'm gone. ugh.

being weird about Chay's or Barcode's age, specifically in regards to sex

as above, i'm pretty shirty about people babying him in general, but fandom is plain weird about Chay having sex. esp him and Kim having sex. 1. their age gap is not that big, and their circumstances have left them on pretty equal footing re the growing up too fast thing. 2. please assess why you think 18 fixes whatever your concerns are with 17yos having sex. 3. teens have sex. dunno what tf was happening with the rest of you but i knew kids even young as junior high who were already fucking. sure, i thought they were fucking idiots for it, but my concerns about people having sex young are rooted in the fact that sex is an inherently very vulnerable act and that's a lot to put yourself thru emotionally during the age range when everything's a wild emotional cocktail. but like. teens still do it. teens are gonna experiment with adult things and sometimes that means experimenting with sex. i personally might not think it's a good idea, but something not being a good idea doesn't inherently make it a bad one either. please stop being weird about it thanks.

calling Chay "bambi"

i just really don't like it. part of it's related to the babyfication thing, but mostly it's just one of those silly things my brain went nOPE on and oh well. back click. 😂

mischaracterizing Chay's anger

so like. this one is tricky because a lot of it comes down to personal interpretation of canon, but also like. a lot of my mischaracterization gripes involves people writing tropes or drama anger instead of Chay's anger, so. yeah. 😂 a lot of people default to writing explosive anger because it's easier to write, but in canon Chay is just. so completely not explosive. and it's not because he's bottling up anger (which!! even if he was, suddenly exploding due to pressure isn't a good thing, gah).

a lot of Chay's personality stems from Needing To Be Okay. a lot of Chay's personal motivations are trying to help Porsche with his burdens and when Porsche won't let him take on extra responsibilities, Chay does what he can to not add to Porsche's plate. and part of not being a burden is quietly dealing with his anger and resentments on his own time. (another factor playing into that is Porsche and Chay really only have each other-- Porsche deals with his anger very quietly too, and it's very characteristic of how they really don't want to hurt each other because they don't have many other people they care about, so they remove themselves from tense/bad situations best they can to reflect on their anger and return to talk about it after they've calmed down.)

Chay is fierce in his anger, but he withdraws when he's pissed and he always tries to talk it out with the intention of achieving clarity. and if i don't feel like a story's going to handle Chay's resentment/anger in a way that feels true to how it was shown in canon (there's a few litmus tests but mostly i'm going by vibes), i just click out because i already know any plot conflict won't feel fully or properly resolved to me in the end :/

[ send a ☕, get a bitchy* fic opinion ]

*personal opinion, I'm not going to be mean

[floridaboiler]

What a Young Man Should Know, 1933. A checklist for becoming a proper man.

This was published in the March 1933 issue of Harper’s Magazine.

The writer, Robert Littell, details the abilities, skills, accomplishments, and extra-curricular proficiencies that every man should have if they are to become a self-sufficient and well-rounded human being, ready for life, and eventually, marriage and raising their own children. The learning starts from a very young age.

Here is the (short) list:

1. He should know how to swim at least a mile, dive creditably, and not feel panicky under water. He should be able also to revive those less skilful than himself by rolling them on a barrel and pumping their helpless arms.

2. He should be able to drive an automobile well. And he should not be altogether helpless when a car breaks down. He must know how to change a tire and offer some sort of diagnosis when the engine sputters and dies.

3. He ought to know how to clean, load, and shoot a revolver or a rifle.

4. As for self-defense, a man should certainly be able to take care of himself in a scrap. He need not learn jujitsu — old-fashioned boxing will be enough.

5. He ought to know the rudiments of camping, how to build a fire, how to chop wood, how to take a cinder out of his eye, how to deal with a severed artery, how to doctor himself for ordinary ailments.

6. He should also be able to take care of other people in emergencies, to apply first aid, set a broken bone, revive a drunk or a victim of gas, deal with a fainting fit, administer the right emetic or antidote for a case of poisoning.

7. And he should be able to feed himself, to cook, not only because some day he may need to, but because cooking is one of the fine arts, and a source of infinite pleasure. He should be able to scramble eggs, brew coffee, broil a steak, dress a salad, carve a chicken, and produce, on occasion, one first-class dish, such as onion soup. The more he can do, in these days of the delicatessen store and the kitchenette, the better. It is not effeminate, it is not beyond him, and the best chefs are all men.

8. He should know how to use paint brushes, a saw, a hammer, and other common tools.

9. He should also have a beautiful and distinguished handwriting. But the bulk of his writing, particularly if he is a professional man who has much of it to do, should be done on a typewriter, capable of turning out three thousand words an hour.

10. He should play one outdoor game well, and have a workable smattering of several more. An American who cannot throw and catch a ball seems pathetic and grotesque.

11. The bicycle has gone, yet every young man should know how to ride one.

12. He should also be able to skate, sail a boat, and handle a canoe passably.

13. Fishing is a specialty, like chess.

14. Walking is a noble but neglected sport. Americans “hike” once in a long while but seldom walk.

15. He should know a great deal about animals and how to take care of them.

16. He should know how to ride a horse.

17. He should learn how to stay in a saddle with pleasure to himself and a minimum of annoyance to his mount.

18. He should learn how to dance.

19. He should know to play at least one card game.

20. He must have knowledge of how to tip naturally, justly, without fear and without reproach.

21. On the matter of alcohol, he should learn his capacity and stick within its limits; he should know something about the different kinds of drink, and which drinks produce chaos within him when mixed.

22. Where s:x is concerned, nature clearly intended us to make many mistakes in her hope that some of them would be productive.

23. He should know the rudiments of gambling. But gambling might be placed on the same plane as drink — the less use one has for it the better.

24. Higher than almost any other accomplishment on the list is knowing music. There is no reason why any young man who is not absolutely tone-deaf should not learn how to play one musical instrument well enough for it to be a self-resource and a tolerable pleasure to others.

25. A civilized man should know how to read. The ability to read, or rather the habit of reading, is very rare even among intelligent people, and has to be taught and kept up if it is not to become rusty.

26. He should have knowledge of at least one foreign language. French or German preferably both. German children learn an amazingly good brand of English without ever crossing their borders. Why can’t we? For one thing, we don’t really want to. Yet we should. An American who knows only English is blind in one eye.

27. He should know to travel well, efficiently, without fuss or complaint.

28. A young man should be able to express himself clearly before a crowd of strangers, without shyness, muddle, or a pathetic resort to “so much has been said and well said” or “I did not expect to be called on.”

29. The British adult can get to his feet, propose a toast, introduce a stranger, voice a civic protest, heckle a windbag politician, and give utterance to an unembarrassed thought.

30. A a man should command the elementary tool of written language, and be able to put simple things on paper in clear words.

31. He should have a good workable understanding of the structure of business, investments, and banks.

32. Let every educated man, as a necessary part of his education, be thrown into the muddy stream of American industry and see what it is like to swim alone on daily wages.

33. He should before reaching twenty-two have done something because he wanted to, whether other people wanted him to do it or not.

34. He should not acquire property unless he needs it. Insensitiveness to his personal property, unless of course it is extraordinarily beautiful, is a desirable skill for any man to have; It must be learned and worked at.

35. Unusual though this young man may be, he should not seem so. Is not a parent’s basic ambition for his child that he be very different from other people, yet manage to seem almost exactly like them?

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)

“(Y/N)!” Mack called for me. I sighed and looked over at his bungalow office. He turned and went back down the stairs.

“shit.” I muttered. “Keep me updated Mabel. Rollie.” I nodded to them and headed back across the compound. I was dressed to the bare minimum, like everyone else. The summer heat was getting to everyone. I didn’t understand how Charlie could handle being in his tramp costume all day but better him than me. “You know wanted to see me Mack?” I called as I opened the door. Mack looked up at me from his desk. I gulped as I walked into the room and closed the door.

“lock it.” Mack ordered. “Charlie’s been barging in here every fifteen minutes with ideas.” I nodded and did as he said, eyeing him as he got up from his chair. His suspenders were twisted around and it only drew my eye to his chest all that much more.

“Sounds like a pain.” I said, trying my hardest to meet his eye but my line of sight kept drifting down. Mack chuckled as he walked over to me. “Wait is that why you called me in here? As a barrier from Charlie?” Mack looked at me sheepishly. “Oh Mack. Come on.” I whined, finally taking a step towards him. Mack chuckled and shrugged. “what can I say?” He asked, eyes shining as he looked at me fondly. “I prefer your company to his.” Smiling softly at him, I reached out and fixed the suspenders. “Huh? Oh. Thanks.” Mack said, glancing down at the suspenders resting against his chest. I patted him right over his heart.

“of course.” I said, running a finger under the suspender. “Heat get to you too?” I asked, not even trying to hide where my gaze was anymore.

“it got to me a while ago sweetheart.” Mack said, licking his lips. I gently ran my fingers through his chest hair. I rolled my eyes and Mack held my hand over his pec.

“cheesy Mack. Very cheesy.” I accused. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.”

“I am indeed.” Mack said, slowly pulling me towards him. “This alright?”

“Mack, we both know where this is headed. You might as well call down and tell them to set up a couple tubs of ice for later.” I put my hands on his chest and hesitantly started playing with the suspended straps. Mack glanced down at my hands and raised an eyebrow.

“you uh you like this?” He asked, catching my eye before I felt my cheeks heat up. I bit my lip and glanced down before turning my head away, my cheeks blazing. Mack chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around my waist. He drew me closer before kissing my head. “I can think of a few things that look better but you’ve never steered me wrong before.” I looked up at him and he took the opportunity to kiss me. “You like what you like.”

“alright. Then…” I murmured. “Can you keep them on? During our little…stress relief session?” Mack blushed and nodded.

“whatever you want.” He whispered. I nodded and Mack kissed me before maneuvering us over to the couch. “Let Charlie lay on this again after I’m through with you.” I laughed as Mack started to undress me. I kissed him as we laid back, Mack fumbling with his pants as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“we never did properly break in this office did we?” I asked, smiling as Mack winked at me.

“oh I don’t know. Breaking that first desk sure made it seem like the rest of the office was broken in.” He teased. I laughed as he pulled his dick out and pressed the head against me.

“come on big boy.” I breathed out as Mack looked down to make sure he was lined up. He groaned as I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Give it to me.” Mack groaned, shooting me a look before slowly entering me. My head fell back with a moan as Mack kissed my neck.

“oh baby.” Mack breathed out. “Perfect. Just perfect.” I tugged on his suspender and Mack chuckled darkly against my jaw. He started to slowly thrust into me. “Oh. You really like this. Maybe I’ll walk around like this more often. Bet you would love that.” I nodded as Mack ground against me.

“we’d never get anything done.” I moaned.

“oh I wouldn’t say that.” Mack grunted as he pulled out before snapping his hips against me. “I think we’d get plenty done.” Mack hit that spot that made me see stars. My eyes nearly went crossed when he hit it again.

“Mack.” My voice cracked as there was a knock on the door. “Mack. Mack!” I was screaming now with the way he kept rutting into me. Mack started laughing, catching the silhouette in the window. “Mack please.” I whimpered, head falling back and back arching. My grip on his suspenders tightened as I pulled on them.

“that’ll teach Chaplin to come knocking when the doors closed.” Mack laughed, stilling as he moved to gather me in his arms. “If he’s skulking around, I’m going to give him a show.” I moaned as he picked me up, never slipping out from where he was tightly nestled. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, burying my hand in his hair as he walked over to his desk. With one arm, he cleared it and I moaned.

“god dammit Mack. Are you trying to kill me?” I breathed out. Mack chuckled before laying me back on the space he had cleared.

“teach him to interrupt when I’m balls deep in the love of my life.” Mack growled. My breath hitched as he started thrusting into me again. I put a hand on his chest and gently pushed. Mack looked up at me and stopped. “What? What’s wrong?” Tears were welling up in my eyes and I pulled him in for a kiss.

“I love you too.” Mack paused for a second before smiling sheepishly at me.

“shoulda been a better opportunity to say it.” Mack muttered. “But I do love you.” He kissed me softly again before rolling his hips against mine. “Now please. I can’t take much longer honestly.” I nodded as I pulled him closer by the suspender straps. Mack chuckled against my lips as he sped up slightly and deepened his thrusts. It didn’t take long for either of us to fall over the edge. I was screaming his name again before collapsing against the desk. Mack sagged against me and pressed kisses to my face as our breathing went back to normal.

“we are so doing that again.” I breathed out. Mack nodded against my collarbone before pressing a kiss to my chest.

“I’m just glad the desk held up this time.” He chuckled. I laughed and nodded, threading my fingers through his hair. “We picked a good desk.”

“and couch.” I said. It was quiet for a moment before a thought hit me. “No one is on set tonight right? Like it’ll be empty for miles.” Mack propped his chin on my chest and looked at me confused.

“yeah.” He said. “Why?”

“we haven’t really been up on the roof since we bought this place…” I started. Mack smiled as he kissed me again before slipping out. He gently cleaned us both up with his handkerchief and tucked himself back into his pants.

“I’m sure it’ll be cooler tonight too.” Mack offered. “Maybe we could sleep up there too. Take our time.” He helped me off his desk and handed me my clothes. I smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I like the way you think mr. Sennett.” I said, running my finger under his suspender again. “Make sure these stay on.” I whispered before unlocking the door and slipping out, seeing Charlie standing at the bottom of the stairs. I shook my head and looked up at the office window where Mack was standing with a devilish smile.

[wildflowerwoodsworld]

So, for those of you who don't know, Charlotte is my (current) favourite character. She's been one of my favourites since I started the series, but now she's in the top spot. Which means it's her turn to get put through torment in fic. Hey, that's just the price you pay for being the favourite.

Anyway, as those of you who are familiar with my writing probably know, I like pulling characters apart and figuring out what makes them tick so I can depict them falling apart in a more believeable way. For some characters it's fairly easy to figure out what the core of their motivation is (Asta wants to be acknowledged as worth something even though he lacks magic) others it's far harder (I still don't know what the fuck motivates Yami). I thought Charlotte would be a tricky one, until I was rereading the manga and came across this panel. (specifically the middle one)

(official VIZ media translation; volume 12, chapter 104, page 72)

She's just been cursed. We don't exactly how old she is in this scene (I tend to put her at twelve, for a couple of reasons, but that doesn't change the fact that canon hasn't actually given us an answer), or even why she's been cursed, but the fact remains that she has just been cursed. And yet she is the one reassuring her parents. She is telling them not to worry. She's the one telling them that she'll fix this. And she's just a kid! She is canonically just a kid!

(Official VIZ media translation, volume 18, chapter 169, page 130)

This is the start of Charlotte shouldering every burden she comes across. She has to do everything herself and if she can't she's not good enough (I know it's anime-only but her "I should be executed" line over being possessed against her will raises a lot of red flags for me). She also holds everyone else to these impossible standards, rejecting every suitor she meets immediately. If they can't keep up, they aren't good enough, and nobody can keep up. She's pushing herself harder and harder and harder because if she doesn't, if she doesn't give everything she has to break this curse then she definitely won't, and the curse activating its going to be her fault for not trying hard enough. She canonically calls herself pathetic and apologises when it inevitably activates. She sees this as a personal failing.

(official VIZ media translation, volume 12, chapter 104, pages 73 & 74)

Never mind the fact that she is, at most, twelve years old when cursed. Which means that she's lived a minimum of six years with it hanging over her head. Sure, she keeps saying she's going to break it, but there has to be a part of her who is convinced that, when she turns eighteen, she's basically going to die.

On top of that, the fact that she's cursed is caonically common knowledge. We get all the townspeople outside screaming about it. This implies that a lot of people know she's cursed. Know she's different. And, well, you're here on Tumblr. I'm sure you know what happens to people who are different. They get socially isolated. That would explain her trouble talking to people about her feelings. And her issues with expressing herself.

So, we've got this girl, who is no more than twelve, is suddenly being shunned by all her peers for something she can't control, has decided to shoulder the entire burden of this curse (everyone else we see talking about it in the flashback says "curse on House Roselei" or something to that effect, Charlotte says "my curse"), keeps pushing herself to try and do what, as far as we can tell from canon, is impossible, and is convinced that if she can't pull off the impossible she's going to basically die on her eigthteenth birthday.

Oh, and all of this is happening around the age she's supposed to be figuring herself out.

The fact that she is a fully functioning adult is a goddamn miracle.

Looping back to my original point though, I think that, at the core of her character, Charlotte is someone who wants to believe that she's worth saving. And not because of her power, or her family name, or her looks. She's desperate for someone to look and see her and see someone worth saving. But she's bad at expressing herself and also scared that if she lets anyone in close they're just going to let her down like everyone else she thought would save her when she was cursed did, so she snaps and she snarls and she drives people away because if people are going to leave anyway (because of the curse) then it's easier to drive them off first, because at least that way she can pretend it's what she wanted rather than being abandoned again.

[hyperlexichypatia]

Hi! Something I’ve been wandering is if there is no point where a brain is truly fully developed, then how do we gage what age should be the age of consent? /genuine I was wandering if you have thoughts on that because it’s something I feel pretty befuddled about

First, I'm sorry this answer is a little late, because I had to think about it a little bit. I think this question, which is a good one, has almost two answers -- one for an ideal youth-topia, and one for our current, ageist, kyriarchical, very-much-not-youth-topia world.

Also, heads up, I'm going to be talking about child abuse in a few paragraphs.

In an ideal world, I think children should begin having some say over their lives and bodies as soon as they're able to express their own opinions, but in conjunction with at least one trusted adult to provide guidance. As the child gets older, the balance should gradually shift over time, with the child's opinion gradually carrying more "weight" over time. Then at some fixed end point, which should be no later than the late teens, the new young adult should have 100% autonomy with no oversight (they can still ask for advice -- which I specify because half the time this comes up, someone asks "What if a young adult wants their parents' advice!" and I have to say "Then they can call and ask, it's not illegal").

An adult will have to make pretty much all the decisions for a baby, because babies don't really know what's what. A toddler's decision-making ability mostly maxes out at picking which toy they want to play with and then crying because actually they wanted the other one. But a school-age child can start having some say in the decision-making process and can practice asking questions at the doctor's office, being included in the conversation, having things explained at their level, understanding things like "I know the shot hurts, but it will help keep you from getting sick later," or "I know you don't like taking pills, but they help your headache go away" or "If the pills don't help your headache go away, say so, and we'll ask the doctor for something that works better." And a teenager can really start taking the lead in their own decisions, with guidance, especially if things like making thoughtful decisions, asking questions, weighing pros and cons, and doing research with reliable sources has already been practiced and modeled over the years. And by the time they're in their late teens, they should have sole final say in what happens to their bodies.

But. All of that is very much the "in an ideal world, youth-topia" answer.

We do not live in an ideal youth-topia. We live in a world where many (I'm being generous and not saying "most") adults in positions of influence over children and young people intend to manipulate or exploit them ("for their own good" or otherwise), and it can be really... extremely... difficult to keep kids from being abused or exploited by parents, families, doctors, capitalists, administrators, politicians, and others.

Most of the arguments I get into are about people wanting to raise the age of majority or some other minimum standard for ""real adulthood"" to some age higher than 18, usually invoking some spurious argument about "the brain."

And I will die on the hill that this is wrong and that 18 year olds should be considered full real adults with full bodily autonomy to do whatever they want no matter how unwise anyone thinks it is -- drink, smoke, take medicine, refuse medicine, have sex, have children, get married, have abortions, get their tubes tied, whatever.

Okay, but then you might say, what about 17 year olds? What about 16 or 15? Is an 18 year old really "more mature" than a 17 year old?

Well, no, of course not. The problem is that the legal status of minors is so absolutely abysmal that, within that legal status, it's hard to asses what "consent," let alone "informed consent," even means. It's not that I think a 17 year old isn't "mature enough" to choose to have surgery, say, but an 18 year old is "mature enough." It's that when you have zero (0) legal rights, having the right to make one (1) choice is really constrained.

Throughout the U.S. -- and I'm only going to be talking about the U.S. here because I can't confidently speak to any other country's laws -- it is legal, to varying degrees (and with even more varying degrees of enforcement), for parents to beat their minor children. It is legal, to varying degrees, for parents to restrict their minor children's movement. To restrict their food. To keep them in conditions barely above prison. To send them to "troubled teen" farms that are literally prison. Even if the mistreatment crosses into some threshold of legally actionable "child abuse," there is no guarantee that the law will be at all enforced. There is no guarantee that the abuse will be stopped. At most, the government will remove the child and place them in a foster home which is likely to be just as abusive if not moreso.

I'm not saying that minors shouldn't have the legal right to make more medical and general life choices than they currently do -- they absolutely should -- I'm saying that in the absence of certain basic physical safety guarantees, a technical on-paper "choice" doesn't mean much.

Like, I just said that I would fight for 18 year olds' right to be sterilized or get married, and also, I'm vehemently opposed to sterilization of minors and firmly support raising the minimum marriage age to 18. That's not because I think decision-making maturity and wisdom magically kick in at the 18th birthday. That's because an 18 year old can leave and file assault charges when their parent says "Sign this consent form or I'll beat you and send you to a prison farm."

So... with that in mind... I do think there are ways to protect minors' right to consent. I think people over 12 or 13 should have to give their own consent for any medical procedure that isn't an immediately life-threatening emergency. And ethical doctors shouldn't perform procedures on people they have reason to believe are being coerced.

As for minors seeking out medical procedures, I think we can look at some contextual questions like: Is the need for this procedure urgent or time-sensitive? I.e. is there any reason it can't wait until the person is older? Can someone interview the young person to try to assess whether they're being coerced? Can the young person articulate the risks or give some indication that their choice is informed? Can they talk about how the medicine/treatment/procedure makes them feel? Do any adults benefit financially from the young person's decision? Are they having an undue influence over the young person? (That isn't just about medical treatment, it's also questions like "Why are child beauty pageants a thing?" and "Why do 7 year olds play American tackle football?") Have they been exposed to other points of view?

Obviously these are all really contextual questions that depend on people in power behaving ethically, which... is a lot to depend on.

So. That's my long answer. I guess.

Final note, mostly I'm talking about medical treatment in general and life decisions in general, but I wanted to quickly mention transition and gender-affirming care in particular. I do support youth gender-affirming care. I didn't always. When I first heard about youth transition, I thought it was a risky thing that young people were going to be coerced into. I thought there would be parents coercing their gender non-conforming children into transitioning to the "other" binary gender and doing surgeries on them before they could object. I was wrong. I know that now, after learning more about how youth transition actually works. Doctors involved in gender-affirming care for youth really seem to be doing it right. They interview the young person. They make sure it's really what the person wants. They go slowly at first. The young person has ample time and opportunity to change their mind. I think other forms of health care for youth (looking at you, psychiatry) (looking at you, weight loss) (looking at you, reproductive health) should model themselves on the kinds of youth-affirming, consent-affirming practices that are standard in youth gender-affirming care.

[thenixkat]

trying to get more info on like enlistment age stuff for Japan since the antikaiju forces seem to be part of the military. I assumed 18 yrs minimum and looks like I'm right trying to figure out what the max age for enlistment would be but just on math and like if a fucker takes the same fucking test for 12 times/years I assume Kafka kept trying till he aged out. and that would make for him giving up at age 30

like the max age for enlistment in the setting pre-story can't be what i'm seeing online which is like 37 since Ichikawa mentions that it got raised to 33 and Kafka's coworker mentioned him used to be trying for it like something that hasn't happened in awhile so 30 sounds decent.

and like, I assume that Mina started fully freezing out Kafka when he stopped trying to make it in and had gotten colder and colder towards him for failing after she got in and her higher-ups laying stress upon her (its still very shitty for her to use Kafka as a scapegoat for her feelings of frustration/stress/fear/loneliness instead of being pissed off at her superiors for forcing her onto a pedestal and heaping excessive loads of responsibility upon her b/c this fucked up military operation really wants super powerful individuals who can solo daikaiju instead of improving technology to make every soldier more effective at jumping bitches) but like 2 years of a friendship being dead in the water but fuckers still cares/cares conditionally sounds half reasonable for mending if folks refuse to just get better friends

also thinking if Mina got in on her first try at age 18, then Kafka was 23 and not long after that things started getting distant and sour between them

like just, I'm grabbing Kafka by the shoulders and imploring him to make more friendships with people who's feelings are not conditional. Like I get why Mina feels like she does but it is not fair to my guy. And also being pissed off at someone for lacking the physical ability to do something even tho they repeatedly tried to do it (and I don't have any reason to believe that Kafka didn't give it his best shot for as long as he could given he's the same kind of person who'd stand on a fucking broken leg and keep trying just to try not to disappoint his ex-childhood bestie any further) it's just… kinda shitty. It's a shitty thing to do.

and like? given how not terribly good Kafka is when he does manage to scrape by and get in, I don't think it would have changed much if he had gotten in any of the original times he tried. Man would not have shown any exceptional talent and wouldn't have risen through the ranks. Mina would have been just as fucking alone, scared, and under pressure, she just would have seen him more often. And who knows that could have led to even more resentment on her part toward him?