#yes a growth spurt at my old age

[edensrose]

I have no idea why I'm eating so much recently, people say it might be a growth spurt. . . fingers crossed

[crosbyism]

"but then again this is the guy who’s publically known for loving to eat ass so"

I'm sorry, I thought Nate eating ass was fanon. Are you telling me this is an actual canon fact??

god i love when people don’t realise how much “fanon” around sid and nate is actually canon. it’s like heroin to me. also bc it’s like. 90% of the stuff in fics (which is probably why people assume it’s fanon but. oh boy it’s not. there’s shockingly little fanon around these two, mostly because canon is so abundant).

yes, nathan mackinnon is a known ass-eater. let me direct you to this post, anon. you’re welcome.

other nate (and sid) facts you might not have realised are canon:

nate is a known advocate for therapy. he’s been seeing a sports therapist since 2017

they wear matching clothing all the fucking time, sid has said publicly that he started wearing white sneakers and updated his wardrobe due to nate’s influence (iirc nate might’ve even bought him his first pair of white sneakers? either that or it was a “he told me i need to so i did” situation). they share a tailor. unfortunately i now have to bring your attention to the fact that since they have an alarming amount of matching clothes that they’ve bought for each other, that means that they in fact have to know each other’s clothing sizes off by heart. they also low-key share clothing btw

their families celebrate canada day together and their dads are best friends. in-law behaviour goes crazy

nate did in fact stalk his way into sid’s heart (got the same personal trainer and agent at age 13; built his house next door in 2017; they’ve been spending every day in the summers together since at least 2015. sid cooks for them daily, or at least did pre-pandemic. sid refuses to use nate’s gym tho so they always use sid’s).

nate used to have a fan twitter account more or less where he rooted for the pens. it was active until 2017.

sid and nate regularly go to summer weddings together as each other’s dates. they have done this since, once again, at least 2015

nate has confirmed that he used to have a poster of sid on his wall as a teenager (he didn’t confirm he used to jerk off to it but frankly. i think that’d be saying the quiet part out loud)

when sid won the cup in 2009 and held the parade in cole harbour, nate stood by the side of the road watching it. he was about to turn 14, he was already working with sid’s trainer and agent, and he was about to start attending shattuck (sid’s junior high). due to old pics we also know that this was RIGHT before nate had his first growth spurt and hit puberty. i’m not saying seeing sid with the cup kickstarted nate’s puberty and gave him his first boner but i’m not NOT saying it

nate dated vanessa morgan of riverdale fame in his rookie year. she’s now good friends with elias petersson from the vancouver canucks (this means nothing but i do think it’s a very funny coincidence).

nate schmidt, formerly of the VGK, once failed a drug test (it turned out to be a testing-fuck-up); when nhl players were asked about it natemack iconically said “i don’t think he was sticking a needle up his ass” (i just like this one)

when he was a kid, the one other thing sid wanted to be was a hairdresser. nate, on the other hand, “didn’t have a plan B”

nate is canonically possessive of sid (see: the asg 2024) and sid is canonically delighted by this and into it

they go on so many lunch dates in the summer my dude. they go grocery shopping together. like there’s so many pics of them in grocery stores or out having coffee or weird green shakes

oh i almost forgot, they went on a roadtrip through ireland last year. they’ve been on holiday together multiple times over the years though. done some eurotripping together and stuff. in 2015 they spent three months together, three weeks of which were spent living in sid’s santa monica condo together just the two of them

sid has put up a picture of every stanley cup winning captain in his basement since 2008, when the pens lost in the scf to DET. apparently this serves as motivation for him to win the cup. he notoriously does not watch the playoffs after the pens are out

however, he partied so hard at nate’s cup party he actually closed down the party with his dad. nate is the only non-teammate sid’s ever been seen supporting for a cup run (he’s also never been to his teammates’ cup parties afaik so. there’s that)

also they talked on the phone daily and between periods during nate’s cup run. they also canonically have almost weekly phone dates that can run multiple hours. quote nate “i can’t talk to anyone else the way i can talk to him”

they each have pictures of the two of them together framed in each other’s houses

there’s rumours they’re building adjoining houses on neighbouring properties in cape breton next to a golf course bc apparently being neighbours in halifax isn’t enough or something. this one is as yet unconfirmed by reputable sources though

[wondersinwaynemanor]

either Dick's siblings are merely teasing him, or they are telling the truth. and that destroys Dick Grayson. or wherein the rest of the batkids call out Dick's features and behavior that indicate he's aging.

Dick tiptoes, while slowly getting the mug from the cupboard.

Jason: You're getting slow, Dickiebird. Should I call your speedster boyfriend to help you in getting that?

Dick, huffs: What are you talking about, Little Wing???? I'm just not tall enough to get it. Not everyone has your growth spurt.

Jason, grabs the mug with ease and hands it to his older brother: Nah, you're just slow now.

Dick tries to recall the case he and Tim were working on last month as they sit in front of the batcomputer.

Tim: You okay, Dick?

Dick, massaging his temples: I'm trying, Timmy. I really cannot remember the coordinates. I'll let Babs help me with that.

Tim: Maybe you should go lay down, Dick. You're getting memory loss.

Dick: I - What is that supposed to mean? I'm just out of my game tonight, okay????

Tim, snorts: Not the first time this is happening though.

Dick, leans down to read the contents of the cereal box: Hmmm.. Are the words too small, Dami, or it's just me?

Damian, gets the box from his older brother and reads for him: Only minimal sugar, Richard, you're good. But it seems as if you need prescription glasses.

Dick: My vision is perfectly fine, okay??? It's just Mirror Master's mirror reflected right to my eyes. Helped Wally last night.

Damian: I really hope that's the case, Richard.

Dick is sitting with Cass and Steph on the floor in Cass' room at the Manor.

Cass, stops braiding Dick's hair: Big Brother has gray hairs.

Dick, shocked like a deer in headlights as he touches his hair: What???? Are you serious, Cass?? Where??

Steph: Hey, you're gonna ruin your nails, Dick! They're still wet - Oh, no. Is that a fine line on your forehead?

Dick, turns red at this point: FINE LINE??? That's not possible!! I'm using the face mask you recommended to me last week - You're telling me it's not working- I can't have a fine line!!!

Cass and Steph giggle as they watch Dick pace around and leave to go to the bathroom.

Dick closes his eyes and breathes.

Duke: Are you okay, Dick? Want to take a few-

Dick, opens his eyes and smiles at his younger brother : No, no I'm okay. Let's go again-

Duke: No, you can teach me the move tomorrow, or when you feel better. You've been really tired lately.

Dick: It's just a headache, nothing too serious.

Duke: Yes, but it's different when it's fatigue. And it's one of the symptoms of-

Dick: Uh, uh. Don't say it, don't say it- I'm not getting old, okay??? Why are you guys saying that lately???

Duke, squeezes his older brother's arm: Aging is a natural thing, Dick.

One night-

Dick, enters Bruce's study: B, I need to go with you to that spa in Greece. I need a break. I'm getting old!!!

Bruce, nods his head slowly: Sure, Chum.

Bruce, eyes his eldest: Oh.

Dick: What?

Bruce: Is that a wrinkle-

Dick: Coming from you, old man!!

Bruce chuckles as Dick leaves the study, talking to himself.

Dick cries dramatically to Wally that night.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hiii! Do you think Harry stopped growing at 17? If he was as tall as James in DH I would imagine he was taller than his father. I have three brothers and my family is full of male cousins and they all had growth spurts after 17. I could see him growing another couple of inches after the war. His mind and body is finally at peace after 16 years. I always hc him to be 6’0-6’2 at the age of 21.

As far as Harry being scrawny… aren’t most teenage boys? My brothers were into sports and didn’t get into the gym until they were done with high school. With the profession he’s in I would assume fitness would be a requirement for the role. Yeah, you have a wand but what if it breaks or you lose it? He has a huge target on his back having defeated the darkest wizard of all time, and I can’t imagine him not learning how to physically defend himself and his loved ones. I don’t see him a huge buff gym junky, but I do see him as someone who has a lean athletic figure and someone who concentrates more on leg day than arm day. I think going to the gym would be an escape for him and help him decompress. I know the hp world prefer a shorter skinny hero (probably because of Daniel Radcliffe) who looks like an underdog, however every underdog grows up and barely anyone has the same physique as their teenage self.

Honestly, all this differs a lot with genetics. Harry's growth spurts in the books reminds me of my younger brother. Like, my brother was like 5'2 at 15, then, in like, one month near his 16th birthday, he grew to 5'10 and when he was around 19 he grew again by two inches. So, Harry could definitely still grow taller, but we don't really have a way to know.

Like, men can still grow in height until their late 20s, and it's possible James didn't even finish his growth since he died at 21, so he might've grown even taller if he survived to 25. Like, that's possible. I just don't really have evidence for or against besides saying, yes, it's possible, but I wouldn't call it likely since it's highly individual and based on genes. Like, I know guys who stopped growing at 16 and have been stuck at the same height since then. I also know guys who are 25 and still grow taller. It's the magic of genetics.

Muscle mass, physique, and the ability to gain weight are also heavily dependent on genetics and age. Men in their teens and early 20s usually have a much higher metabolic rate, which keeps them lean regardless of how much they eat (again, genetics play a big role here and this isn't true for everyone). Physical activity like Quidditch, would make the already fast metabolism faster. This naturally fast metabolism, combined with certain genetic makeup, can leave you looking lean regardless of how much you go to the gym as well. Some men need to reach their mid-20s before they can actually start gaining the weight necessary to appear buff.

I think Harry would look less lean as he got older. Like, I can hardly imagine a Harry in his mid to late 30s being as lean as 16-year-old Harry. I think his physique will change as he grows, as happens to most people. But I agree with you I don't see him as a super buff gym dude at any point in his life. He's always on the leaner side in my head, but this is all in headcanon territory since it isn't covered by the books.

I would like to add that all the super short and scrawny descriptions of Harry come from the first 4 books when these descriptions are correct. In book 6 Harry is thin, but no one describes him as a scrawny boy with knobbly knees past book 4. Not even he himself. So I definitely see Harry of the final 3 books as more lean than scrawny.

And yeah, you're right about Radcliffe messing up everyone's mental image of Harry, both in looks and personality. It's one of the things that bother me most about the movies. And, everyone can headcanon whatever they want, but I personally don't like short Harry (when he's older, when he's 14, make him short). It's not his canon character and when writers write him short, it's sometimes accompanied by him being written as too passive and meek for my liking because Harry James Potter is not passive or meek. (Radcliffe Harry in the movies is much more passive, hence the skewed mental image I mentioned, but I digress).

Besides, while malnourishment and food intake could affect one's growth, people tend to overlook the 6 years of Hogwarts and Molly's food which would be a huge boost during his puberty years in which he's having most of his growth. Additionally, some people's food intake matters less to their physical development than others — again, I can't stress enough how specific genetic makeup is super important in all this discussion.

TL;DR

Harry might grow taller to be 6' or 6'2. We don't have any evidence for or against really, so it's up to your preference on what you want to headcanon. But it's definitely super possible. If Lily was taller than the average it would even be likley (but I couldn't find any notes on Lily's or Petunia's height). In the books, he is very lean, and it's a combination of a lot of different factors working together: his lifestyle, genetic makeup, and yes, being a teenage boy with the fast metabolism that comes with it. As Harry grows up, he'd probably want to stay fit, but to what degree is also in personal headcanon territory (I personally don't like him becoming an Auror, but that's my preferred headcanon. I still see him staying pretty fit out of paranoia, sort of. I mean, he spent all his teenage years with a Damocles sword over his head. He literally died. I think he's allowed to be a little hypervigilant after that. I mean, he already is, but you get the point).

[poorlittleyaoyao]

It's also very funny because after the second siege when Jin Ling is crying its mentioned that it's especially shameful because some guys his age are married and some not much older have kids already. I think this is leftover from when rhere was originally supposed to be a three year timeskip between Nightless City and the first siege? But as is its like...so the developmental milestones are like Age 12: LARPing Age 13: GET MARRIED. There's also how novel Yanli is canonically 12/13 to WWX and JC's 9/10 when she carries them both home on her back and even given that WWX may have been lighter than the average fourth grader due to malnourishment I feel like MXTX had not seen a ten year old recently to think a seventh grader could carry TWO of them.

YES OH MY GOD. And art compounds it! I have seen so many illustrations (both fan-made and official) where the older sibling looks late teens and the younger sibling is a squishy toddler baby who barely comes up to their waist. It’s very cute, but like… none of these sibling pairs are meant to have a 10-year age gap, I don’t think. Maybe the Nie Bros could? But even that seems unlikely, since NHS being 15 at Cloud Recesses would mean NMJ is pushing 30 when he dies, and da-ge does not make it that far.

(This is not unique to MDZS fandom at all; Les Mis fandom back in the day had soooo many drawings of Gavroche as a plucky little kid when he is in fact canonically 12.)

Speaking of the Nie Bros: lowkey one of my favorite things is the casting for little Mingjue and little Huaisang. Look at this!

They’re so cuuuuuute! NMJ is much taller than his baby brother, but he’s still clearly a kid. NMJ looks like he’s maybe 13 and starting to hit his growth spurt, with NHS coming through as 7 or 8. And that’s a perfect age gap for them! Four to five years is nothing to adults, but it’s drastically different for children, and would seem MASSIVE to both of them. (And then when NHS is older, and reaches NMJ’s age, he will realize how young his brother really was back when he seemed so big to him, and NHS will go through it a bit.)

[tinynerdz360]

Future Ghost Chapter 3

Flashback:

(Danny in the far frozen talking to a Doctor; a ghost Yeti named Doctor Bonechiller.)

Danny: So, Doc…... I have a question…. It’s something I’ve noticed…I don’t think I’ve been aging…I mean, I still look the same as I did last year. When will I get my growth spurt?

Doctor Bonechiller: Well, that’s a complex question. Ghosts don’t age like humans. We don’t change year to year like you, or well mortals do. We grow stronger with age, not weaker.

Danny: I know that….my worry is I’ll be stuck looking like a fourteen-year-old forever. Do ghosts ever age physically, or do they get stuck at the age they died?

Doctor Bonechiller: Hmmm…. yes and no. Different factors go into this. We don’t change with the years. We change with events, trauma, personality, wants, and desires. If you were a natural-born ghost child, a little younger, or even now, I’d say having a healthy parental or guardian bond would help with growing and changing.

Danny: Well, my parents are ghost hunters; I don’t know what they’d do….

Doctor Bonechiller: That may play a factor. A young ghost like yourself needs to feel safe to change. But wanting to grow will help as well, there are ghosts that never want to ‘grow’ up as you say.

Danny: Yeah, like Youngblood. I guess he’ll really stay young forever.

Doctor Bonechiller: Don’t look so glum; we’ll keep an eye on it. As a hybrid, your body might react completely differently from a human or a ghost. You are very young, only a year by ghost standards. You are a child; your body might just be finding that balance or even need years to change. As I said, multiple factors go into this, at least for us.

Danny: Jeeeezzzz that’s not comforting at all…...*sigh* thanks for help I guess….

Danny avoided Sick Bay at all costs, wary of being examined and discovered. He knew Dr. McCoy would want to do a full workup on the new ensign, as per Starfleet regulations. So, Danny hacked into the medical database, forging records indicating he had already undergone orientation examinations. Danny was lucky that Dr. Mccoy didn’t have to be the one to personally do the examination. Anyone on his staff could do it. So, it was just a matter of forging a digital signature.

 He figured he’d be fine. Doctor Bonechiller said ghosts rarely get sick, and when they do, it’s not something humans can usually get, and he theorized as a halfa, the same would apply to him. In theory, anyway. The data on this was extremely limited. Danny brushed those thoughts aside; he’d be fine……. probably.

It was a risky gambit, but Danny's ghost abilities served him well, allowing him to merge his consciousness with the computer network and hack into the files he needed. He spoofed the system flawlessly, fabricating biometrics and test results that appeared normal for a human 18-year-old. Or at least what he thought was normal. His talents lay with machines and astronomy, not medicine. Well, besides the basic first aid and his experience fixing his own wounds. It probably would be fine; he’d just have to stay under the radar.

Danny jolted out of his thoughts as a large hand landed on his shoulder.

“You are alright there, kiddo? You’ve been staring at the same panel for a while.” Daryl McDonnell questioned, a concern tilted to his British accent.

Daryle McDonnell had taken Danny under his wing—quite frankly, the whole engineering department had. Danny was the youngest among their ranks, regardless of whether he was eighteen or not. There had been some speculation that the kid was lying. But his file checked out. It was not an easy thing to pull one over the ship's CMO. So those rumors died to jokes about his baby face appearance.

“I’m not a kid.” Grumbled Danny at his friend. The older man showed him a lot of patience during his first week aboard. Danny had struggled with completing basic tasks. Like completing reports, navigating the ship (often getting lost), and getting too wrapped up in awe of being in space or getting lost in his work tasks.

 The other man patiently showed him how to write a good report and submit it, made sure he had access to the ship's policy and manual and even made him take breaks to eat or get off shift. Danny was so relieved that Daryle never questioned his lack of knowledge.

“haha….eh you’re the youngest one here, you get to be the kid. When you’re my age, you’ll get it.” Mcdonnell replied. Waving his hand to dismiss Danny’s annoyance.

“What when I’m 100?” Snarked Danny.

McDonnell mocked offense, grabbing his chest. “Careful, my old heart can’t take it.”

 Danny ducked his head as he snickered. As a ghost, Danny had empathetic abilities, like the betazoids, but without the mindreading. He could feel the emotions of those around him. He couldn’t turn it off, and his core needed it. The emotions fed his ghostly side. The warm, affectionate fondness radiating from the lieutenant made him feel happy, his ghost side greedily absorbing the emotion and feeding it into his core.

McDonnell guided Danny away from the computer panel. “So, a few buddies of mine are having poker night in the mess hall. I’ve invited the other ensigns from the Prodigy program. You should come.” Mcdonnell offered. “I’m sure you know a few of them. I hear the prodigies are a tight-knit group back at the academy.”

“Pro…prodigy?” Danny mumbled in confusion. *Is he calling me smart? I guess I’m smart* Danny froze as he was hit with a wave of emotion. The Sharp sting of suspicion, skepticism, disbelief, and a smidge of concern. Danny looked back up at the forty-year-old man.

McDonnell gave Danny a strange look, side-eyeing him as he looked down at the shorter ensign. “You know. The Starfleet program, that allows minors into the academy. The one you would have had to have been in to be on the enterprise today? You’d have had to have joined at fourteen……or sixteen if you’re really smart. To get through the program?” McDonnell looked at Danny with a look of skepticism.

He eyed the scars on the ensign’s arms; his uniform sleeves were rolled up. He didn’t like how many scares the kid had or the Lichtenberg figure scares trailing up from the ensign's left hand all the way up his arm. It baffled him how he even managed to get a scar like that. While, yes very common for engineers to get a shock, lichtenberg figures should fade with time. Or why the ensign never got them removed with the help of modern medicine. Hell, sickbay could remove them with a dermal repair kit. Unless the kid was avoiding sickbay.

McDonnell watched as Danny stared at him in disbelief. He felt amused to see the kid gap at him like a fish, his mouth opening and closing as he processed this information and tried to answer.

While concerning the kid seemed to have no idea what he was talking about. His reaction only added to McDonnell's own theory. He suspected the kid had hacked his way in. The kid was smart, he’ll give him that, and he would have thrived in the prodigy program. But there were holes in the kid’s story, and he had so many gaps in his knowledge. McDonnell figured he came from some abusive home on a backwater colony and, in desperation, hacked his way in. But the kid was painfully bad at lying, and while he was a good kid who tried hard to please everyone, he could have come up with a better cover story. He might even be eighteen, like he says, but coming from a rough home would explain any growth delays.

Danny, meanwhile, was flabbergasted. *Omg, what do I do? I don’t know any of those other ensigns! Why am I so stupid? They let minors in! omg, omg, I’m so screwed. Oh god, oh god, does Daryl know? Great going, Fenton; how did I mess up this badly? * As Danny's mind raced and he panicked, he felt his chest tighten and his breaths coming in shorter and shorter. *Maybe I can still save this. Play it cool, Fenton, you can fix this. *

“DANNY!” Danny snapped out of his rushing thoughts at the shout of his name. At some point, McDonnell had guided him to a chair. He was grasping both of his shoulders, crouching down to look in his face. “Hey, you stopped breathing there. It's okay to take deep breaths; copy me. That’s right. It’s ok.”

Danny tried calming down, following McDonnell’s breathing pattern. He felt embarrassed and sacred.

“You’re looking paler than usual. How about I take you to Medbay?”

“NOO!” He pushed himself out of the chair, side-stepping McDonnell’s concerned hands. “I’m fine……I just got overwhelmed….”

“There’s something I need to tell you, Don.” Danny took a deep breath. Danny tried to ignore McDonnells's hopeful look as he gave him his undivided attention. “I…...I…...have social anxiety…..I was always a loner at the academy; I never really interacted with the others in the program…. The program I was…did go to. So, I just got overwhelmed there.” Danny stuttered out. *ha! NAILED it!*

McDonnell’s face morphed into a look of disappointment. Danny felt his face heat up; he could taste the disappointment coming off the other man. “uh huh…... Danny…..I hope you know you could tell me anything……or there’s others onboard you could talk to.”

“There's nothing to tell!” Danny hissed. He felt frustrated and had a creeping feeling of being trapped. He could not admit to one lie; one truth would lead to another and another until it unraveled into his most guarded secret. While the future seemed awesome and accepting of all walks of life. Danny could not shake the doubt and fear that they would still reject him. And he wasn’t stupid, humanity still had some biases. While humanity moved past most of its hate, people still had trouble accepting humans with extra abilities. Those with augmentations and those with psionic abilities. It was perfectly fine when it was an alien but a human. That was crossing the line. Danny could not handle a rejection right now; he was isolated enough.

McDonnell backed off, holding his hand up in front of him. “Ok, ok, there’s nothing to tell. I just thought you’d benefit from hanging out with your own age group.”

“What do you mean, my own age group,” Danny asks with a grumpy, suspicious glare. If he had to defend his age one more time, he swore to Clockwork, he’d lose it.

“I mean, these other ensigns are eighteen and seventeen. It’d be good for you.” McDonnell answered, choosing not to give him a hard time. He hoped one day the kid would confide in him or anyone really. He hated seeing how Danny flinch when someone raised their hands too quickly around him or how he would shy away in fear of them. He knew the kid was hiding stuff, probably stuff he shouldn’t, but cornering him would just make it worse.

Danny winced. “Fine, I’ll go.”

McDonnell gave him a big smile, reached out, and ruffled his hair, earning him a squawk from Danny. “Good, see you later tonight kiddo. Now go rest; you look paler than a ghost!”

Danny spluttered as McDonnell walked off. *HA! If only you knew. Oh, clockwork, how am I gonna survive tonight? * Danny dropped his head in his hands. He was so screwed. With a sigh, he headed to his quarters. He knew how he was going to spend his time, brushing up on current topics and what was popular. It would be just his luck if he couldn’t connect with this century’s teenagers. Hopefully his roommate was out, his room mate was the worst always giving him a hard time or questioning him. He could taste the sourness of his suspicion. One Walton Weston.

Chapter 4

[multbasa]

Tears of the Kingdom confirms that 100 years old is about middle age for Zora which is perfectly in line with what information we had been given in BotW regarding Zora age and growth.

Rivan was the only Zora to give a concrete age being "over 130" and claimed that he and Link swam together as childhood friends when Link stayed at the Domain along with the rest of the "Big Bad Bazz Brigade".

"Well, it has been 100 years since then. And now I'm over 130 years old..." / "We used to swim together when I was but a child... Remember?" –Rivan

Furthermore, Rivan has a daughter named Dunma who was very adamant about being not yet 100 years old. She claims that she doesn't speak like those over 100, and now in TotK, another Zora mentions that Zora over middle age of 100 speak differently, more "eloquently".

"We Zora tend to speak more eloquently after reaching middle age." / "I hope that when I reach 100 years, I will also speak as beautifully as our elders. Unless that is too...OLD-fashioned, heh." –Fronk (TotK)

[edit: I got the quote off my Switch after work]

It's hard for me to tell in English, so I can't tell whether Dunma has changed her manner of speech which could suggest she is now 100 years old—she didn't seem that far from the milestone in BotW.

"*sigh* Let's just say I'm less than 100 years old. Can't you tell?" –Dunma

So we can get a good picture of Zora age to maturity with Rivan: he was over 130 in BotW, his daughter was under 100 meaning that he conceived her in his 30s to 40s which suggests that full Zora adulthood is about that age like adult humans hitting about 20 years old. For simplicity, I assume Hylian 20 is about Zora 40.

We can use Rivan to determine how old he was when he called himself a child using Link's age. I assumed that Link was younger than Zelda at first because he is so short, but it turns out he is older since Paya's age was actually influenced by Link so that there be a character around his age:

"Initially, Paya was to be a very young girl, but due to a lack of girls around Link's age in the world, she was changed to be a young woman between 18 and 20 years old." –Creating a Champion

So I will assume Link is about 19 for simplicity.

If Link was 19 during the Calamity and was 4 when he first arrived at the Domain, then 15 years ago, Rivan who was (approximately) 35 during the Calamity would have been 20 years old. Considering that he was approaching 40 when he had Dunma, 20 years old for Zora may align with Hylians at 10 years old.

Since Rivan belonged to a group of friends along with Link, they were probably around a similar age. That includes Gaddison and Bazz in the "Big Bad Bazz Brigade"

"I must ask something of you, traveler. If you know it, speak it now. What is the Big Bad Bazz Brigade password? Fluffy white clouds! Clear blue..." [Zora] "Yes! There is no mistaking it! You are, indeed, the real Master Link!" / "[It's true.] I knew it! The only people who know that password are members of the Big Bad Bazz Brigade!" –Bazz

I will also include that Mipha died very young for a Zora since her spear is meant to accentuate her youth being taller than she is. Her short hight is a large part of it, but did you know that initially the adult Zora were meant to lose their tailfin? In the Creating a Champion book, the standard adult Zora design doesn't have a tailfin and their is a comment on the child Zora concept art states that all child Zora have the tailfin "like Mipha". This tailfin detail was not kept since all the Zora have tailfins in the game probably because their bare butts look pretty funny, haha.

Since Rivan had a child in his 30s-40s quite soon after Calamity while Mipha was still so short, it seems that she was younger than Rivan.

It's hard to put a number on Mipha's age since we don't know when Zora hit that "growth spurt", but it is safe to say that she is in the middle of that growth. She did say that Link always seemed to grow a lot faster than she did, so this growth that she is going through isn't very fast compared to Hylians.

...

I would like to mention the elder Zora especially Dorephan who was incorrectly depicted in Age of Calamity. Age of Calamity simply reuses his model from BotW, but it is wildly inaccurate to how he is described 100 years ago in BotW.

The elder Zora seen in BotW were in their prime during the Calamity 100 years ago. Their generation was the one defending the Domain at the time, and Dorephan was described fighting a Guardian some time after the Calamity which resulted in his forehead scar seen in BotW. This event is stated to have happened 100 years after he became king and since Sidon appears to be taking on that title in TotK (I haven't finished the Domain, so this was gleamed from his appearance in the last trailer), then it may be safe to assume that Dorephan was about a similar age to Sidon when he became king being over 100 years old (middle aged).

"Around 100 years after King Dorephan ascended to the throne, a stray Guardian crossed Upland Zorana into our domain." / "You can still see the scar he earned that day on his forehead—a token of his triumph." –History of the Zora, Addendum 1

Rivan is yet again a good example of Zora age and maturity since his father Trello is in BotW and is wrinkled and old like the other elders while he and his daughter look quite similar in age.

This shows that Dorephan who is part of the same generation as Trello would not be so old 100 years ago like he was depicted in AoC—with that forehead scar no less. (I liked AoC but this detail irritates me)

Considering the info available to us in BotW and TotK, Dorephan is likely over 200 and is in his elder years. It is safe to assume that Zora pass away before reaching 300.

So there you have it, an analysis on Zora age and maturity. They are still considered children in their 20s while they reach maturity around 40, they are middle aged at 100 and die of age before 300.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

(Hello, Sunshine, October 1963)

October rolls around without much incident, though Midge feels oddly restless. It’s like something was shaken loose inside of her when Sophie Lennon tried to brain her with that Grammy, and she can’t put her finger on what.

And Lenny notices, because of course he does, but since she doesn’t know what’s wrong, she can’t really tell him.

But he’s a relatively patient man, especially when it comes to Midge’s eccentricities, so he waits her out.

“It’s like-“ She stops, thinking about it. “Something is missing. Which is insane. I have you and the kids, and a great career…”

Lenny shrugs as they do the dishes together after dinner one night. “Maybe you want more from your career. Go higher. Farther. Funnier.”

“Well, yeah,” Midge snorts. “Of course I do, but I feel like I’m on that trajectory, you know? I feel like- I feel like I’m on the right path with comedy.”

“Maybe you want it to go faster,” Lenny suggests.

“It’s not the comedy,” she presses, shaking her head. “It’s not. I won an Emmy. Susie is making noise about a comedy album next year, the show is amazing, I’m getting offers left and right.”

Lenny nods slowly, and when she glances at him, she can see that he’s nervous.

Midge turns to him quickly, cupping his jaw with her damp hands. “Lenny. No. It’s not you.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, and then deflects with a joke. “Because I can be weirder in bed.”

She smiles. “You are lovely,” she tells him, leaning up to kiss him softly. “And what we have is all I want. I just-can’t put my finger on what might be missing.”

“Well, let’s see. Career is good,” Lenny lists off, wrapping his arms around her. “We’re good. Your parents are busy and good. Joel is…Joel. The kids are doing well. Getting older. I can’t believe Kitty is eight now. She used to be the size of my forearm.”

Midge smiles and nods. “I know what you mean. If Ethan has one more growth spurt, I’m going to have to ask Gordon for a raise just to cover a brand-new wardrobe for him.” She sighs wistfully. “It feels like yesterday he was trying to convince me Esther had run away while I was holding her in my arms.”

She likes that the joke makes Lenny chuckle, but as she stands there in his arms, her thumb brushing his jaw gently, she finds herself thinking about-

“Shit,” she blurts out.

“What?” Lenny asks, looking perplexed.

“I know what it is,” Midge huffs out, completely annoyed at herself.

“Okay, well, what is it?”

“I want another baby,” she announces.

Lenny blinks, tilting his head as he gazes at her. “Like a…a fourth kid? You want to add a four child to this madhouse?”

“Yes.”

“Explain.”

Midge shrugs. “It just…feels right. One more. One with you.”

He sighs softly, obviously trying not to start a fight. “The pregnancy and then the recovery and handling a newborn…it’s an entire other job on top of the ones you currently have as a comedian and a mother of three school-aged kids…”

“I know,” Midge nods.

Lenny stays quiet for a moment. “Is this about the Grammy that came flying at your head last month?”

She sighs. "Well it did scare the bejesus out of me and bring me face to face with my own mortality, so maybe a little."

"I guess I'm asking…do you really want another, or are you just still scared?" He asks, rubbing her sides soothingly. "Because the fear will pass, but we'd be stuck with a fourth kid forever. They have terrible return policies on those things."

Midge huffs out a laugh and closes her eyes. "I think…I really do want one." She opens then again, peering up at him. "What do you want?"

Lenny grins softly, obviously thinking it over. "I like being a dad. And I fucked up Kitty’s babyhood quite a bit. Getting another shot doesn't sound bad. But being the dad is nothing compared to what you'd be doing."

She shrugs. "It's old hat."

He gazes at her contrmpatlatively. "You're sure."

Midge takes a breath, squaring her shoulders and nods. "I'm sure."

"You're not gonna wake up for a three AM feeding and wish you could leave it at B. Altman like a dress you thought you wanted but changed your mind on?"

"Oh, no I will completely do that," she tells him. "But that's the fleeting feeling. Not the wanting a baby part."

Lenny chuckles softly. "We're crazy."

"Yes, that's why we got married in the first place," Midge reminds him. "There's safety in numbers."

He leans in, kissing her slowly as he pulls her in close, and Midge forgets all about jokes and dishes, her fingers slipping to his neck as he starts to maneuver them out of the kitchen.

She moans softly, thankful that the kids are with her parents tonight. "Starting already?" Ske asks between kisses.

His lips attach themselves to her neck. "No time like the present," he mumbles.

[ask-the-becile-boys]

Fic: Piano Lessons (Crosspost)

Word Count: 3501

Summary:

It’s 1918, and a young Hare has been sent to teach piano to Ignatius Becile, his maker’s oldest estranged son. But Ignatius is thirteen, full of that age’s anger and desperation, and in Hare he sees an opportunity to impress the father he’s never met.

With thanks to BlueSpine for the prompt and some ideas, and to Dionysus for helping break my writer's block!

　　1918.

　　“So, you and Pops was pen pals?” Hare asked.

　　The Widow Becile’s lips twitched up in a faint smile. “He’d never call it such. But yes, we initially traded correspondence while he was incarcerated. His letters were dictated, of course, due to his injuries.”

　　The Widow Becile was not, in truth, a widow. Thadeus Becile was still very much alive; Hare had seen him just that morning. But notoriety made waves, and the Widow was a quiet woman.

　　Hare didn’t know anything about Delilah Morreo beside her name, and he couldn’t have started to guess why Pops had liked her so much. But he could see why Pops liked this woman enough to marry her on the sly: she was smart, distant, and her eyes were cunning as knives, just like him.

　　Why they’d had two kids together, and what strings they had pulled to make the first one happen while Pops was still behind bars, Hare didn’t dare ask.

　　They sat in the Widow’s garden at a little tea table with a glass top. The two-story townhouse it surrounded was painted pale yellow, with little patches of decorative ivy crawling up the sides. The flowers were bountiful and the bushes long in the tooth, and Hare watched white butterflies dance above the leaves. It was small compared to the Becile Estate where Hare lived, but it was just as silent, like a painting no one could touch.

　　Hare, the Widow, and the baby Norman had been sitting there for half an hour, he judged by the church bells. Hare tried to be polite as he could be for the lady as she patiently grilled him with question after question, Norman sleeping silently in her arms. How old was Hare? Just over a year, ma’am. (That made him about a year younger than Norman.) How long had he played piano? Most of his life. Did he enjoy playing? Oh, yeah, loved it. Loved performing, too. She should come see, sometime. Was he good? Well, he liked to think so.

　　Good. The house was too quiet for a boy Ignatius’ age, a hale thirteen. He needed something to do with his hands beside tinkering.

　　The wooden gate clattered close behind a row of bushes nearby. Hare turned in his seat, already watching the space when Ignatius came around the corner. The boy was halfway into his growth spurt, a little lanky but not yet tall, features starting to sharpen under his short curls and large glasses. His school uniform was clean, if slightly wrinkled, but the bulging backpack over his shoulder was well-loved. Ignatius pulled up short, seeing Hare, and his face flashed darkly for a second before dissolving into a carefully practiced blank.

　　If the Widow had caught the piercing look, she didn’t react. “Ignatius, welcome home. You remember I asked your father to send one of his robots to teach you the piano. This one is named Hare.”

　　“Pleasure’s all mine, kid,” Hare said affably, standing.

　　Ignatius nodded slowly. There was a second-too-long pause before he said, “Nice to meet you.”

　　Oh boy, Hare thought. Hare might have been young, but he had a knack for reading people, and this boy was simmering.

　　“Go drop off your school books and change your clothes,” The Widow Becile said to Ignatius calmly. “You may have a moment to breathe while I show Hare the piano.”

　　The new stand-up had been placed in the parlor next to a large window, angled perpendicular to the wall. Hare had stuffed his vents with filters to minimize his dark smoke, not wanting to pollute what he’d correctly assumed to be a lovely residence, but he was relieved to see the window all the same. He swung the frames outward and sat down on the piano bench, lifting the fallboard and casting his green eyes over the keys. The ivory was as white as clouds and shone in a way Hare had never seen on another instrument. He tentatively pressed middle C and smiled at the bright tone. Giddy at the opportunity, Hare set his hands on the keys and began to play ragtime, improvising a riff. He almost didn’t hear the floorboards behind him creak.

　　“Mother won’t be happy if you teach me that music,” Ignatius drawled. Hare turned to see him standing in the doorway, arms folded, head slightly cocked to the side as he regarded Hare through his glasses. “She says ragtime and jazz are for scoundrels.”

　　Hare paused, then lifted a brow. “Yeah? And what do you think?”

　　“I think it’s a glaring over-generalization, and I don’t see how music could predicate moral fiber,” Ignatius said. “After all, Mother says my father prefers classical music, and he’s a bastard.”

　　Hare whistled an impressed, sliding note. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Hare said, readying himself to spar.

　　“Of course I do. If she doesn’t know I swear, she can’t know the difference,” Ignatius said, walking into the room. “All the same, I’m not interested in offending her over something so trivial, so you’d best stick to teaching me the classics.”

　　“Is that what you’re interested in?” Hare asked. “’Cause I was gonna teach you theory, first, unless all you want is to play by rote.”

　　That gave Ignatius a moment of pause. “Theory? Like science?”

　　“You could spin it that way,” Hare said.

　　“I’m surprised you know that much,” Ignatius said frankly. “Were you programmed to know it?”

　　“Nope. But I got better recall than most humans. Makes learning patterns real easy.” Hare scooted over on the bench and nodded toward the empty space next to him. Ignatius grimaced slightly, hesitating, before he sat down.

　　-

　　Ignatius was a quick study when it came to principles, and Hare could see the growing wear and tear on the study books he lent the boy, but he got frustrated when his muscle memory couldn’t keep up. Hare came back twice a week, and he tried to be friendly, tried to be encouraging. But Ignatius kept him at arms length, his gaze always calculating when he looked Hare in the eye. Occasionally Norman would toddle into the room and watch them, ever silent, often chewing on his thumb or a part of his shirt. Ignatius would pointedly ignore him.

　　“This one’s a Hare Becile original,” Hare said, placing a few sheaves of sheet music on the stand. The notes were written in sharp, inky scratches. “I made the arrangement easier than the way I play it, but the melody line’s the same.”

　　Ignatius looked the papers over, his lips slightly moving as he worked through the solfège and rhythm. He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to dumb your music down for me,” he said bluntly.

　　“Ain’t ‘dumbing down,’ Ig’, it’s adapting,” Hare said.

　　“How do you play it?” Ignatius challenged.

　　Hare rolled his head to the side in a feigned stretch, smirked, and started playing. It was a dark sound, minor and slick, with high trills and a low, continuous rumble. His hands flashed across the keys, jumping between octaves, and when it was over, Ignatius was wide-eyed and silent.

　　“How am I supposed to catch up to you?” Ignatius eventually blurted out. “I’ll never be able to play like that!”

　　“What, giving up before you’ve tried?” Hare asked. “That ain’t the Becile way.”

　　Ignatius shot him a pointed look. “You’d know better than me,” he grumbled. “But what’s the point if you’re always going to be second best?”

　　Hare thought for a moment. “You enjoy being alive?”

　　“Of course,” Ignatius said moodily.

　　“You ever feel more alive than usual? Even in a bad way?” Hare laid a hand gently on the piano keys. “That’s the point. Your ‘best’ isn’t about being better than someone else, it’s about the ride.”

　　“You say that,” Ignatius said slowly. “What about Walter’s band of robots?”

　　Hare stiffened up. “What about them?”

　　“My father made you to compete with them, didn’t he? I saw them at the World’s Fair. It doesn’t take a genius to see the connection.”

　　Hare felt the fire in his chest burning hotter. He hadn’t seen Rabbit for most of a year-- not since her conscription into the war overseas. For all he knew, she’d never return. Maybe if she didn’t, their rivalry would stop haunting him-- but then he kicked himself. Wishing for Rabbit’s destruction was a step too far. “Look, that’s… complicated. More complicated than I wanna talk about. You don’t got that problem.”

　　“Don’t I?” Ignatius muttered.

　　“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hare asked.

　　“Forget it. Let me hear the simplified arrangement so I can get started practicing.”

　　-

　　“Piano’s getting out of tune,” Hare said a few weeks later.

　　Ignatius quirked an eyebrow and stopped playing. “It sounds fine to me.”

　　“It ain’t by much, but it’s there, in the low notes.” Hare looked out the window that was directly to the piano’s left. “It’s probably from the weather.”

　　“Well, we have to keep it open for you during lessons,” Ignatius said. “I don’t want to choke.”

　　“This may be a shock, Ig’, but the temperature around windows is always a bit more like the other side,” Hare said. “Even when the pane’s closed.”

　　“Can you even feel temperature?” Ignatius asked.

　　Hare blinked. “No. I just… know that.”

　　Ignatius rolled his eyes. “Fine. Do you want me to stop playing?” he asked, lifting his hands from the keys.

　　Hare hummed thoughtfully. “Well, now I gotta think. I don’t want you getting used to an off tune. But if you can’t hear the difference yet, it shouldn’t matter. It’s gonna drive me batty, though.” Hare performatively stuck his pinky finger in his ear, as if trying to shake out a bout of tinnitus. “Course, it really comes down to your mother paying for a tune up.”

　　Ignatius was quiet as Hare talked. His eyes followed Hare’s hand as he lowered it from his head.

　　“Hey,” Ignatius said. “Could you take off your gloves? I want to see how your hands work.”

　　Hare startled at the request. “Uh, sure, I guess,” he said. He peeled his gloves off gingerly. He never touched a piano without them on; his fingertips were too thin to hit the keys correctly and so sharp as to leave scratches. “Mind the blades.”

　　Ignatius seized his right hand first, turning it this way and that. “You don’t have a lot of plating here,” he observed. “The mechanics are exposed in places, like you’ve been flayed. Fascinating.”

　　“Flayed? Gross,” Hare said. “They’re just like that so’s they’re easier to fix.”

　　“And the gloves act as sheathes,” Ignatius mumbled. He ran an index finger along the length of one of the blade edges, then pulled back with a hiss, blood blossoming on his fingertip.

　　Hare jerked his hand away, head starting to swim in an unfamiliar way at the sight of the blood. “I told ya’!” he said, standing. “Criminy, you know where the bandages are? Kitchen? Bathroom?”

　　“Kitchen. But it’s barely a papercut,” Ignatius grumbled.

　　“Don’t care, we’re patching it up anyway.” Hare stuffed his hands back into his gloves and headed for the kitchen. “I ain’t going back to Pops to tell him you got lockjaw ‘cause of me.”

　　Hare didn’t reply when, as he stepped out of the room, he heard Ignatius quietly say, “Like he’d care.”

　　-

　　Things continued in their passable way for a few months. Ignatius’ playing improved steadily, if not quickly. He even guardedly asked for pointers on composing his own music, scrawling out fragments on scrap paper and collecting them in a folder. Hare thought they were making progress, and he didn’t think much of the occasional times Ignatius asked to look at his hands.

　　Then the Widow was invited to see Pops.

　　Ignatius’ face was dark as storm clouds as Hare helped the Widow into her coat. He sat at the piano, chewing his lower lip, glowering at the sheet music in front of him.

　　“Watch your brother, Ignatius,” the Widow said over her shoulder to his back. “If there’s any problems, the neighbors are home.” Only Hare caught the slow turn of Ignatius’ head, how he stared at her with one eye.

　　Hare offered the Widow his arm as they left the house, and she took it. He tried to keep her talking as they walked to the streetcar, hoping it would be enough to distract her from Ignatius following them. All things considered, the kid was stealthier than Hare expected, but he chose amateur hiding spots. Hare guided the Widow to a seat on the streetcar so that she faced away from the way they’d come, and he thought they lost Ignatius there.

　　They met The Skull at the gates of the Becile Estate. He doffed his hat for the Widow, muttering a quiet, “Ma’am.” He then led them up the remnants of the gravel trail to the house, pausing to take the Widow’s coat and hat at the door, and through the halls to Pops’ study.

　　After the door to the study clicked close behind the Widow, Hare grabbed The Skull’s arm and started pulling him down the hallway. “Listen, Skulls, we gotta do a sweep. Their oldest kid, the one I’ve been teaching piano, he was following us part of the way.” Hare said quickly. “I don’t know if he caught the next trolley after us, but Pops’ll have our hides if the kid shows up uninvited.”

　　The Skull nodded, and they split ways at the parlor. Hare searched one wing of the house, while The Skull searched the other. Hare could hear The Jack practicing his violin in the basement as he passed by the stairs, and he decided not to get him involved.

　　A muffled shout caught Hare’s attention. He ran to the noise to find The Skull holding a struggling Ignatius by the open kitchen window, some of the clutter from the counter knocked onto the floor around their feet. Ignatius, seeing Hare, slowed his flailing and sullenly glared at him from under his brows. He wore his ragged backpack, the straps barely hanging onto his shoulders after his fight against capture.

　　“What’s a’ matter with you? You hate your old man,” Hare said in a hushed tone. “Your mom’s gonna rake you over the coals for leaving Norman alone.”

　　“I locked him in his crib,” Ignatius said. “He won’t get out before I get back.”

　　Hare shook his head. “Cripes, kid. You gotta know Pops won’t see you.”

　　“Exactly,” Ignatius said vehemently. “I want to know why.”

　　“Ig’, we live with the guy, and we don’t know why he does half the things he does,” Hare said. “He don’t take kindly to questions and takes even less to surprises. You gotta scram.”

　　“Like hell,” Ignatius snarled. “You don’t get it. You’re just a machine. Why did he even make you? Why did he give mother Norman when he refuses to speak to me? What am I here for?!”

　　Hare stared at Ignatius for a moment, then traded looks with The Skull, before sighing, allowing a cloud of dark smoke to pass his vents. “Pops might not want you around, but your mother does. Sometimes, that’s gotta be enough.”

　　“Well, it’s not! Let go of me!” Ignatius demanded, eyes wet. “I’m going to get answers!”

　　Hare shook his head. “You got two choices-- you go home with dignity, or we carry you back like a sack of screaming potatoes. Look, I’m sorry. I know it ain’t fair.”

　　Ignatius inhaled, meaning to shriek, only for The Skull to clamp a hand over his mouth. The Skull gave Hare a confused look, obviously uncomfortable using force on a child, but held him tight regardless.

　　“What do we do?” The Skull asked Hare.

　　Hare ground his teeth as he thought. “We gotta get him outta the house. I don’t wanna gag him, but if we’re gonna carry him--”

　　“That will be unnecessary.”

　　The three froze as Pops walked into the room. The Widow hovered in the doorway behind him, looking at Ignatius with disappointment.

　　“The Skull, release him,” Pops said flatly.

　　The Skull obeyed, and Ignatius took a teetering step forward, regaining his balance, eyes locked on Pops.

　　Hare winced and said, “We tried to take care of things. Figured you wouldn’t want your visit interrupted. We can take him home--”

　　“You will.” Pops regarded Ignatius with all the passivity of a wall. “But first, I intend to reduce his reasons to invade my home a second time.”

　　Ignatius, his mouth a thin line, unslung his backpack and darted a hand into it. Without a word, he pulled a contraption out of the bag, its parts clicking against each other as he held it out for Pops to see. “I made this,” Ignatius said flatly.

　　Hare stared at the thing, not immediately comprehending what he was looking at. Then the bottom dropped out of his furnace, and he felt impossibly sick

　　Ignatius was holding a replica of Hare’s hand.

　　Pops’ brow lifted a fraction, and he held out his own metal-encased palm to take the replica. Ignatius shuffled forward a few steps and passed it over, watching Pops closely as he examined the construction.

　　“Where did you get the parts for this?” Pops asked Ignatius, testing the range of motion of a finger.

　　Ignatius hesitated for a second, avoiding his mother’s gaze, before saying, “Junkyards. Scrap metal and broken toys. A few pocket knives.”

　　“And you made this to impress me?”

　　“No.” Ignatius straightened up proudly. “I made it to prove that I could.”

　　Hare wished he could melt into the floor tiles. The Skull was avoiding looking at him, his hands nervously clenching.

　　“I see,” Pops said. He gave the replica back to Ignatius. “I’m loathe to reward you for breaking in. But I suppose if you’re going to pursue mechanical engineering under the Becile name, I would rather oversee your development. You’re old enough now to not be a nuisance.” Pops looked down at Ignatius through his glasses. “I’ll discuss a schedule with your mother. Bare in mind that you’re starting on thin ice. You will not enter this house again without my permission. Understood?”

　　“Yes,” Ignatius breathed. He glanced at Hare and grinned. Hare did not grin back.

　　The Widow cleared her throat. “I’m not exactly opposed,” she said. “But if it’s all the same, I’d like him to continue his piano lessons as well.”

　　Hare frowned and folded his arms, tucking his hands out of view. Before he could protest, Pops spoke again.

　　“There may not be time. But we shall see.” Pops looked at The Skull, who snapped to attention. “The Skull, get my guest’s coat for her. You’ll escort her and Ignatius to the streetcar.”

　　“Yes, sir,” The Skull said. He barely glanced at Hare as he swiftly left the room.

　　The Widow held out her hand to Ignatius, who slowly passed Pops to go to her. They followed The Skull, leaving Pops and Hare alone.

　　“You disapprove,” Pops said.

　　“Am I weird for feeling weird about it?” Hare asked, a note of pleading in his voice. “He didn’t tell me he was doing it. He didn’t ask. He just copied me like, like a thing, like a piece of homework.”

　　“Hare, you are a thing,” Pops said.

　　“Yeah,” Hare’s voice faded to a whisper as he looked at the ground. “But he don’t gotta treat me like one.”

　　Pops shrugged. “In any case, I expect you to continue to be respectful. Keep your reservations to yourself, and if time allows for your piano training, challenge him.”

　　Hare narrowed his eyes. “… You got it, Pops.”

　　-

　　Over the next four years, Hare and Ignatius’s lessons became more ever more sporadic. Hare never shook the feeling of violation, and while he was not a cruel teacher, he wasn’t proud of the spitefulness that churned in his chest when he was cool in the face of Ignatius’ improvement. It was only when Ignatius formally ended their lessons and Hare felt a wave of relief that he realized just how long he’d held the grudge.

　　Ignatius seemed to thrive under pressure-- at first. He devoured the books on engineering Pops assigned him, kept his grades up in school, learned to dance his skilled fingers across the ivories. He was hard-working, prodigious. As far as talent went, he was everything a man could hope for in an heir.

　　At seventeen, he broke.

　　Hare could hear Ignatius screaming from the other side of the manor, though the words weren’t clear. When The Jack and The Skull started to stand up from their game of cards, he shook his head.

　　“You guys really wanna get between those two?” he said quietly.

　　The Jack and The Skull traded looks, and they awkwardly sat back down.

　　“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Hare muttered. He looked at his hand for a moment, balled it into a fist. “Let him burn his bridges.

　　“I never liked how he looked at me, anyway.”

[peachsayshi]

Hi Peachy. I just read your last Dad!Sukuna prompt and it broke my heart (HOW DARE?!?!?!) so how about something lighthearted. Little Rai finally coming into his own and fully inheriting Sukuna's abilities as a curse. He's physically and sorcerer'ly a mini Sukuna. One day at the ripe age of 4 years old this lil baby just randomly grows a whole ass foot taller, spouts an extra pair of arms, an extra pair of eyes, the right side of his face becomes cartilage-like, his eyes glow red and when he lifts all four little arms up in excitement he slices halfway into the bark of a tree. Reader is beyond bamboozled and can only stare in absolute disbelief that she just birthed Sukuna 2.0 and Sukuna is also bamboozled but he has that toothy grin on his face because his son is growing into a powerful curse like him and he's literally about to draft a fucking public announcement.

And suddenly his appetite has increased by 5000 and he's developed a craving for raw flesh, especially the one fucking Uraume brings over and he's far, far, stronger and faster than a normal human of his age is and he has a penchant for combat and strategy and then it hits you.

Your baby is a demon in puberty.

Sukuna, by the way is having the time of his life because he realised way earlier than you that the demon growth spurt will be far, far earlier than normal and you're all up in Uraume's face because you want to know everything about bloody curses because Rai is a baby. He's a baby he's 4 fucking years old what the fuck are you talking about he's a gotdamn teenager????????????

Rai still sneaks into your room to sleep with you because he inherited youe empathy and he can sense you're agitated at everything and so confused and he communicates in that way that he's still your baby. Almost as tall as you but still your baby.

"physically and sorcerer'ly a mini Sukuna" omg yes he absolutely is! 😂😂😂 I love you for sharing your input on this and just the thought of the poor reader having to deal with her demon baby makes me chuckle a little to be honest.

sukuna though!! he is having an absolute field, walking around with his head held high and his chest puffed out with pride because that's his son, right there.

it's probably the time when the reader turns to sukuna for advice because she is literally at a loss on what to do here 😂

[burnwater13]

Concept art by Christian Alzmann of Grogu holding one of the Frog Lady's tadpoles carefully. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 3, The Heiress. Calendar by DateWorks.

Grogu wondered if Master Yoda ever thought about what it was like to hold Grogu when he was an actual baby. Did he like it? Was he grossed out? Was he worried that the baby was going to pee in his hand? Grogu had wondered about some of those things when he held Tad for the first time. The frog baby reminded him of himself and Grogu didn’t really understand why. 

Right now Tad was pretty helpless. He couldn’t talk with his mom and dad. He couldn’t walk anywhere he wanted. He couldn’t even decide what kind of food he should eat. Grogu was pretty sure that he had developed his taste in food from the get go. Was it just that Tad couldn’t tell him what he wanted that made him think that Tad didn’t know what he wanted? Maybe. That had sure as heck happened to him a lot when he was little and to be honest, it still happened a lot, even after that last growth spurt.

Having met Tad’s parents, Grogu knew that one day that tiny frog that he held so carefully was going tower over him like the Mandalorian did. Like Peli Motto did. Like everyone did. Even Master Yoda was twice as tall as him! Twice! At least that meant that Grogu wasn’t always going to be the smallest person, but still, the Frog Lady was easily two or three times as tall as Master Yoda.

“Judge me by my size do you?”

“No, sir.” Grogu sighed as a voice spoke to him with a sharp tone.

“Good. Size matters not, except when robes selected are. See the world differently do you.”

“Yes, sir.” Grogu recalled all the conversations that he’d had with the great Jedi Master. Many had begun like this. 

“If taller more likely to one's head hit you are.”

“Yes, sir.” Grogu tried desperately to stay still. Master Yoda did not appreciate people fidgeting.

“Padawan, appreciate you always do I.”

What? Master Yoda had never said that when they were both at the Jedi temple. 

“At the temple we are not. The small frog food wants.”

Huh? Grogu looked around and finally noticed that Master Yoda wasn’t speaking to him from memories but was hovering right behind him as he held Tad. 

Grogu promptly handed Tad to his father and the Frog Dad nodded his head and put some flakes of something in the palm of his hand and offered them to his son. Tad licked them up quickly and then burped. Grogu giggled at that sound. No matter what kind of critter your were, when you burped they all sounded the same; some were just louder than others. It was very funny to him. 

“Burped like that did you when same age.” Master Yoda commented, smiling at the scene he was witnessing through the Force. 

“Yes, sir.” Grogu spoke before he could stop himself. All the other times the ‘Yes, sir’s were in his head. He was recalling them. This time he’d actually said them out loud! That was a mistake.

“Call me sir, no need for you. Just Yoda now. Not Master Yoda. Not Sir.”

“Yes, sir.” Grogu blurted out before he could stop himself. 

The ancient member of his people laughed. 

“Habits old hard to break are. Time it will take.”

Grogu nodded his head. That was easier and less likely to trip him up.

“When freshly hatched, our kind float in a tank of water while nutrients are added to it. We grow very rapidly. Much like your friend Tad.” A different voice spoke softly.

Grogu glanced around but Master Yoda hadn’t moved. The great Jedi Master pointed toward the ceiling and Grogu noticed another member of his people sitting on the light fixture. He found that very curious. He sort of remembered someone with red hair, but he’d always assumed it was Master Yoda playing a trick on him. 

“Always the high ground has Master Yaddle liked.”

Master Yaddle! Masters Kenobi and Beq had talked about her. She was famous. Soft spoken. Loyal. Relentless. The best of them. Grogu smiled at her. 

“Yoda exaggerates, young one. I just like the view from here. You are well?”

Grogu nodded his head. He was well. He had a protector in the Mandalorian. He had friends, like Tad and his parents. He had a purpose in life, which was to keep the Mandalorian safe and sound, even when he ditched him and went off adventuring on his own. All in all, his life was pretty great right then. 

“Family. Friends. Good people.” 

Grogu made an effort to say something more than ‘yes, ma’am’ and hoped the clipped response was acceptable. 

“Then you are where you belong. That is good. Remember, it is the size of your love for others that matters. From here I can see that you fill the room.”

Grogu didn’t know what to say to that so he simply bowed as Tad’s dad handed the small frogling back to him. Grogu smiled at being trusted to hold his friend and then giggled. Tad pee’d in his hand and he didn’t mind at all. That must be love. 

“Brave you are and loving. Balanced in the Force you must be for your father.”

“Watch over the Mandalorian, Grogu. You hold his heart in your hands as surely as you hold young Tad.”

“May the Force be with You.”

The two Jedi masters spoke as one.

“This is the Way.” Grogu replied as he watched them both fade away. 

His past, present, and future were with him and he suddenly felt very tall. It felt good. Perhaps this really was the Way. 

[steffie-musings]

The Age part 2

Here’s chapter 2

Wander over Yonder belongs to Craig McCracken

Story, doctor belongs to me, Steffie

Commander Peepers paced in the waiting room as he anxiously hoped the doctor would be able to save Lord Hater. He didn't care the people in the waiting room were getting irritated with his pacing.

After what felt like hours, Lord Hater finally stepped out of the doctor's office. The doctor whispered something before he waved goodbye. The commander of the watchdogs rushed to Lord Hater's side. "And, what did he say? Are you alright? Will you be alright?" "…" Lord Hater simply shrugged his shoulders. He looked ashamed; or embarrassed. He didn't even bother to look at Peepers in the eye.

"Pardon me, are you Commander Peepers?" the doctor broke the silence. "Yes, I am." "Follow me to my office, please."

Commander Peepers wondered if the doctor could hear how fast and loud his heart was thumping in his ribcage. Was it terrible news? Was it the reason why Lord Hater was oddly quiet and didn't dare look at him the eye? Oh no, oh no! Lord Hater's busy dying and the Skelettian was too scared to say anything. What will he and the watchdogs do then? Oh glorb…

"Mr. Peepers, are you alright?" the doctor's voice pierced his thought bubble. "Yes, yes, I am fine. Why wouldn't I be?" "Oh, well. You do look quite nervous for someone that shouldn't be worried." "Oh?" "Lord Hater's son will be fine. It's normal for Skelettians his age to lose his 'baby horns' before his adult horns start to grow. It's still good that Lord Hater wanted his son to be check up to be on the safe side; and that he wanted me to explain to you, his commander, what his son is going through." "Uh…" What was the doctor talking about? "I'm simply saying that Lord Hater's son will be fine. He's simply going through puberty; although he's an early bloomer…" "…I'm sorry, are you saying that he's going through puberty?" "Why, yes! You see, his race have long lifespans…so they hit puberty at a later age than you and I. They first start getting growth spurts, lose their 'baby horns', the voices of the males crack and they have better control of their powers.

"I see. So, him losing his horns isn't as life-threatening as that of a fully-grown Skelletian?" "Nope, not at all. He may have headaches and may lose control of his powers, but he'll be fine." "Great. Thank you, doctor. If I may ask, how old his 'Lord Hater's son', according to watchdog years?" "Ummm, let's see…I'll say that he would be the equivalent of an eleven-year old watchdog." "Thank you for your assistance, doctor." Commander Peepers gritted his words.

Commander Peepers took deep breaths as he left the doctor's office. He stopped dead in his tracks when he caught Lord Hater staring at him…anxiously. "Did the doctor explain everything, Peepers?" Lord Hater whispered as the watchdog approached him. A curt nod answered him.

Even when they arrived on the ship, not a word had been spoken between Lord and Commander. The other watchdogs and even Captain Tim could sense the tension. Commander Peepers finally gained courage as soon as he was certain every watchdog had gone to bed. The commander rapped his knuckles on Lord Hater's door and was surprised when Lord Hater opened the door and gestured he must enter.

"Lord Hater, I--" "Peepers, did you tell anyone what you had discovered?" "No, sir. Didn't tell a soul." "Did you post anything on the 'net?" "Not a word, sir! Believe me, I won't tell a soul." "…Good." "Sir, I am just so confused. Are you really that young?" It explained so much about Lord Hater's personality, but he still couldn't believe it. "Yes, I am actually a lot younger than I look. I am quite big and tall for my age as well. It really helped me stop bullies from picking on me before you found me back then…" "Sir, why didn't you tell me? Didn't you trust me? Did you think I would use it against you?" "I don't think you would respect me anymore if you knew. I was already hoping none of the villains on the Galactic Villain Leaderboard would figure it out either. I think Wander already figured it out; and that's why he doesn't seem to be that scared of me."

Oh, so could be the real reason why he's so obsessed with Wander? "So, do you still want to work for me?" "Of course, sir! It didn't change much. You were doing very well before I knew. I will be loyal to you. I won't tell any of the watchdogs, or any of our enemies at all."

"Good, let's go to bed. We will resume our plan to conquer some planets tomorrow; and hopefully stop Wander once and for all." "That sounds great, Sir!"

It may have been odd to discover his boss is actually the youngest on the ship, but he was more than willing to help him. After all, someone needs to watch his back.

The End.

[riallasheng]

1 (thunderbirds), 7 (tracy boys), 24 for the ask game?

Canon I outright reject John being the middle born XD He is the second born gosh darn it all XD Can't really think of another bit of canon I outright reject off the top of my head, although I'm certain there are a few 'I reject your reality and substitute my own' points ^^

This is gonna get long, so under the readmore!! ^^

=======================

7. Age, height, weight headcanons Because I am a MASSIVE OLD GEEKWOMAN I actually have this in my gDocs and legit just need to pull it up XD -Scott Chuck Tracy: 30 years old in 2065 (born 2035, April 4th) 6'3" (just using the canon here) 216 lbs (Scott is drawn as being cruiserweight to heavyweight in the comics, and described as 'powerfully built' in the books, so I gave him the weight class that is on the high end of his height and the border between cruiser and heavyweight rather than the lanky nearly to beanpole of TaG ^^)

-John Yuri Tracy: 28 years old in 2065 (born 2037, October 8th) 6'4" (again, just using canon) 190 lbs (John is drawn lean, but not a beanpole in the comics and is described as 'lithe' in the novels, so I've got him above the low end for a 6'4" man, but not in the upper end of 225lbs)

-Virgil Buzz Tracy 25 in 2065 (born 2040, August 15th) 6' (I used Tyler Hoechlin for his face-claim as his face shape is well-nigh perfect for him and thus gave Virgil Tyler's height and build, rather than the 5'10" that is, I think, canon. Hoechlin's build is Virgil's canon build however. About cruiserweight to maybe heavyweight ... yes in the comics/novels Scott is actually buffer than Virgil XD ) 172lbs

-Gordon Jim Tracy 22 in 2065 (born 2043, February 14th) 5'10" (gordon's puppet is the shortest of the brothers, then Virgil's, then Alan's, then Scott's, then John's. Virgil got a bit of a 'growth spurt' due his face claim, but Gordon stayed the shortest XD) 170lbs (I looked up weights of professional olympic swimmers in the Gordon's height range and used the average for Gordon's weight. I figure he's build like a professional swimmer, even after the accident)

-Alan Neil Tracy 19 in 2065 (born 2046, March 12th) 5'10.5" (he is VERY proud of that half in he's got on Gordon XD ) 181lbs (Alan is actually the heaviest in build of the brother's, a bit more powerful / buffer than Scott - it's a build he inheritated from / shares with Jeff. Both Jeff and alan are drawn buff, nearly stout, in the comics. Which fits with the fact that alan is shown to be capable of a one punch KO in the TV show

=========================

24. Most Annoying Habit hmmmmm... Not sure off the top of my head ^^;; I'll see if I can think of something and do a reblog / addition to this later

[la-sopa]

do you happen to know how tall Ferus and Anakin were as padawans? i need to know for fic reasons.

I did math for this.

TinyTim, why are we doing math?

You might be thinking. Well simple answer to the methods of my madness. The we can use Anakins height to gauge(?) Ferus’ height and create a time table because idk how old they are in your fic :)

Anakin Skywalker

Let’s start from the begin

Jake Lloyd was 9 when he played anakin and was 4’5(135cm(this number was rounded)

Hayden Christiansen was 19 when playing Anakin in ep 2 no was 6’0(182cm)

Now why do we need this information? Basically we’re going to find the average growth (in cm) per year between ages 9-19.

We can take 135cm and divide it by age,9, to give us 15cm. Now this makes sense because you grow a lot from when you were an infant to a young kid but this rapidly growing doesn’t add up when you are older. ( I am not accounting for growth spurts I’m working with a fixed continúes growth) so we 15/2=7.5cm which does mathematically make more sense. So we can set up this equation 7.5x= y which basically means 7.5 times X years (because time is a constant) and Y is height.

Yes we can switch the variables to a different symbol but this makes sense to me, because in my mind, there’s a graph. Very blurry graph but still there :)

Also Give or Take a few cm because no one grows at a constant.

Now we can do the fun part 🤩

By setting up a chart.

9. 135 (4’5)

10. 142.4 (4’8)

11. 150 (4’11)

12. 157.5 (5’2)

13. 165 (5’4)

14. 172.5 (5’7.9 ( technical 5,8)

15. 180 (5’10)

16. 182 (technical 187.5 so 6’1) 6’0

17. 182

18. 182

19. 182

I don’t care that the chart is impractical

Let me explain a little bit also, most boys hit their growth spurt from 12-16 but the chart shows hit it early, good for him ig, Also most boys stop growing at 16 and start growing muscle mass instead of height :) science 🧬

I would make a graph online but I’m too stupid

Ferus Olin

Now the disclaimer I TinyTim am very biased and this is opinion based off of my own and other peoples opinion and my foggy memory.

I always just assumed he was about 2in taller than Anakin

And you can carry this on for when there adults and have him permanently taller. But I like to have fun with it and have him stop around 5’8-5’11 (because I think it’s funny and there’s no way all that stress didn’t do anything to stunt is height yk.)

Now I took 5’8 (177) and divided that by 16 (for already explained reasons) and got a scary number 11.0625 so I just then I divided it by 2= 5.5

So to do this logistically I worked backwards

Chart

16. 177 (5’8)

15. 171.5 (5’6)

14. 166 (5’4)

13. 160.5 (5’2-5’3)

12. 155 (5’0)

11. 149.5 (4’9)

10. 144 (4’7)

Also small thing to keep in mind, which I love to talk about for some reason. Is the 2-3 year age gap (I think it’s 2 but there’s a possibility it could be 3) so when Anakin is 12(5’2) Ferus is (5’4) making him taller ever though he caps at at a not so short short king. Anakin surpasses Ferus at 15 Anakin being 5’10 and Ferus at 5’8

Ok everyone clap now I did it.

[lint-beetle4]

Copy-and-Pasted from my Google Doc, here's San Marino

Pretty big wall of text below: tldr; small country with enough big dick energy to avoid the Italian Unification and taxes

Nation name: 

The Most Serene Republic of San Marino

Human name: 

Aurelio Marinus Vargas

Physical age: 

23 years

Actual age: 

~1,700 years

Background: 

San Marino is a country that dates back to 301 A.D. Its founder, Saint Marinus built the country on Monte Titano after repairing damage done by pirates. Thus, San Marino was created, later to be separated from Rome. He is the oldest out of the Italy Brothers.

The small country never resorted to violent means. Using trade or kindness, he gained a small amount of land, and a growth spurt. Often threatened by bigger countries in the past, San Marino’s diplomatic and unwavering nature allowed them to stay away from conflicts that rained throughout Europe. This would also lead to San Marino surviving the Italian Unification as well as San Marino becoming a safe haven for refugees during times of conflict due to the neutrality of the nation.

During the world wars, San Marino would remain neutral until waging war on Germany after a particularly bad bombing from a paranoid Britain and America, but he still did nothing aside from sending 14 medics. Despite this, both allies and axis would temporarily stay at his house during different parts of the war, to his dismay.

 San Marino is most known for his tourism and his population in cars being greater than people. He is a stable and surprisingly rich country. He also doesn't impose heavy taxes which makes his country a tax haven.

Personality: 

San Marino is a well spoken nation that speaks with passion and a slight drawl. Being talented with tourism and a good record of diplomacy, he knows how to sway, entertain and not piss anyone off. 

He is very prideful of his maintaining peace and outspoken on topics regarding history. He is polite of others and refrains from causing violence or a disturbance no matter what. He may seem like a doormat due to this, but he can be very defensive about certain topics. Being a very committed democratic nation, he holds a vote for nearly everything, even if it's to choose whether he should be socialist–yes, he did actually do that; yes, he was temporarily socialist (technically, Socialist-Communist as the parties had unified).

San Marino is very defensive when it comes to his nationality; The Sammarinese will never identify as Italian.

 He often comments on how much society has changed, quite like an old man. Often, he appears disengaged and absent-minded, making him appear more isolated than he actually is at first.

Relations:

Germany: Slightly bitter, but he holds a lot of respect for the German. During WW2, Germany protected the country to retain its neutrality which led to its eventual attack. After this, San Marino and Germany’s relation was rather tense until after the war where they steadied a bit.

Veneziano: These two share a close bond. Veneziano is often eager to trade and supply his older brother. San Marino can be seen with Veneziano often. Both share a strong brotherly bond and keep in touch often.

Romano: Not as close as he is with Veneziano, but Romano is protective of his older brother. While Veneziano gives San Marino supplies, Romano checks the exports and imports for any dangers. Both share a bond of mutual brotherhood and slight dislike to a certain potato man. 

Sweden: Legend has it that these two engaged in a long war that would end in a standstill after nearly 350 years of hostility. No one can fully tell about what happened during that time, but some say that the standstill was called due to both running out soldiers while others claimed that they hadn't signed an official peace treaty yet. Both nations deny this and are very confused about its origins. They are on good terms though and wish to get along better in the future.

France: They were close during the Neopleonic era; however, they’ve grown apart slightly. They’re still in touch.

England: A slightly bitter (Read: passive-aggressive) attitude is carried with these two. England was the one who was convinced the smaller country had declared war on him, so San Marino sued the crap out of him after the Allies had attacked the country. They don't talk much, but conversations can be a little tense since England still hadn’t paid the full amount San Marino wanted for reparations.

China: These two get along surprisingly well. They are good business partners and friends. San Marino looks forward to working more with China. Once in a while, both are seen being the old men that they really are.

America: These two are very good friends. Having supported the newer country, San Marino made Abraham Lincoln an honorary citizen while America faced the Civil war. The bond never left, and they still talk happily.

Russia: Until recently, San Marino had not participated in the EU Sanctions Against Russia which sparked a welcoming friendship. However, San Marino had been put on Russia’s list of People Who Could Do Better after San Marino entered the EU Sanctions Against Russia as a response to the invasion of Ukraine. San Marino doesn't care, and finds it hilarious.

Misc.:

He has a scar on his neck and shoulder from the Bombing of San Marino,

The wrapping on his neck is a cockade that Saint Marinus gifted to San Marino,

He is fairly good at baking and finance,

The weapon on his belt is a 9mm Glock 17 pistol,

He only uses rubber bullets and is proud to say he hasn’t fired a shot in 10 years,

He knows how to shoot a crossbow. He's actually talented at it,

His aim is scary accurate; considered one of the best shooters in Europe,

He sucks at soccer so much that it's a main point on why he isn't Italian, yet his speed is on par with his siblings,

San Marino is 168 cm (~5'6), the shortest out of his siblings

His hosting style is making the guest feel like they are at home and ensuring they feel safe during their trip to his country,

San Marino is a frequent visitor of America, and they often bake together,

He is very passionate about history and peace-keeping.

[fanfictasia]

😂 🤩 (dialogue from Anakin?)

Oooooh, this is gonna be a fun one. ;) This is from the as-of-yet unposted WIP named Phantoms of Glory. :D

“Well, you are still growing,” Anakin points out cheerfully. “You’re always hungry.” “I am not!” I complain. “Mm-hmm.” “I’m not!” “Why’s your stomach always growling, then?” I groan melodramatically. “It is not!” Why does my best friend have to be so annoying? I stand up and walk over to the bed, half-throwing myself onto it. “Well, I’m certainly not hungry now!” “But I guarantee you could have eaten more with that bottomless pit of yours.” “Don’t make fun of Togruta growing habits!” I whine, “We always hit a growth spurt around my age.” I glance down at the edges of my lekku. They’ve started growing just past my shoulders now, slightly longer than I’m used to. When I’m an adult, they’re going to be half my height. Well, I’ll have to see what that feels like. “We grow way slower than you humans.” I pout at them. “At least physically. I think we stop about the same times our brains do. I’ve never heard anyone bother to do the math! But I calculated it something like… oh, I don’t know, four human years to five Togruta years? Physically, before then?” “…were you really about four when you were brought to the Temple?” Padme asks, trying not to laugh. “I dunno. Maybe? Did I act five?” “If you didn’t then, you do now,” Anakin offers. I roll onto my back and groan. However soon it is until we get to Naboo, it won’t be soon enough.

And here's another for good measure. <3

“I’m thirteen. I’m almost an adult.” “You are not!” I yell grumpily. “That makes you sound so old! Adults are old and grumpy like Obi-Wan!” “My master is not grumpy!” Anakin defends vehemently. “He’s amazing!” “Yes, he is! Ask anyone!” “He raised me! I would know!” “Nu-uh!” “Maybe sometimes, but he’s usually nice!” “Remember that next time you complain about him,” I grumble, “I’ve heard you say a thousand times about how he never listens to you, and he gets mad for no reason.” “I’m just difficult. That’s not his fault.” “No more difficult than me.” “I know,” Anakin replies flatly, and I swat his arm. 

Thanks for the ask!!! :D:D:D