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what-even-is-thiss: bobcatdump: jaskiegg: mellomaia: aphony-cree: beyoncescock: gahdamnpunk: Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making THANK YOU I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.” The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents. When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious. God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent “I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.” I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future. Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that. My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad. To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time. It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely. : what-even-is-thiss: bobcatdump: jaskiegg: mellomaia: aphony-cree: beyoncescock: gahdamnpunk: Honestly!!! This is just psychological trauma in the making THANK YOU I’ve asked parents about this and they always say they are teaching the child responsibility and “respect for other people’s things.” If I point out that the child accidentally broke their own toy they always say “I bought them that toy” or “my sister gave that to them.” The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents People raising children need to realize that household possessions belong to the entire household. If everyone has to use that plate then it belongs to everyone and anyone can have a forgivable accident with it. It’s okay to deem certain possessions as just yours and ask everyone in the house to respect that, but extend the same respect to your child’s belongings Big mood. I know most of these are talking about little little kids, but here’s a tale from middle school. I had forgotten to charge my phone one night, and this was back when cell phones used to beep loudly when they were low on battery. I kept hearing the noise throughout the afternoon and not recognizing what it was because I’d never heard it before. When I finally did realize what it was, I was in science class and my fellow classmates were making presentations. I reached into my bag to try to turn off the phone, and then the low-battery sound went off, loud enough for the teacher to hear it. She confiscated my phone in front of everyone, and I didn’t get it back until after the weekend because it was a Friday. I was really embarrassed, especially to tell my parents. When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture. I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious. God I’ve been reading these posts for a while and each time I am struck with the realization that certainly not all parents were supposed to be a parent “I say all this to say, one of the worst aspects of being a child/teen was adults assuming my intentions were malicious.”YES this The problem is, even if families are forgiving the culture around children still effects the child. I use myself as proof of that. A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.” I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future. Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that. My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad. To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time. It’s like… we need to change the culture around this, man. Completely.

what-even-is-thiss: bobcatdump: jaskiegg: mellomaia: aphony-cree: beyoncescock: gahdamnpunk: Honestly!!! This is just psychologica...

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feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!!  I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. ** Practice on Me New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers. His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup. “Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.” His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?” Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?” “I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.” “Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.” “It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?” “I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading : feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!!  I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. ** Practice on Me New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers. His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup. “Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.” His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?” Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?” “I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.” “Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.” “It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?” “I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading

feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes...

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ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.: ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.

ups-dogs: The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon m...

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scifiseries: Fire Princess and the OutcastsBy Luis Aleman(Winner of a writing contest voted on by members of VicsLab.com.)When a bounty mission takes an unexpected turn, it brings three girls together on a journey. The runaway princess with fiery red hair, Rosella, and her loyal former servant, Anneth, have escaped from their home to make there own place in the world. Backed into a corner by former mercenary Morvon, the pair of bounty hunters take in a talented young elf named Gertrude who’s always wished to travel.With a staggering bounty on the princess’ head, though, the girls soon learn that not every smiling soul has good intentions for them. Even worse, the royal family doesn’t seem to care if Rosella is returned to them all in one piece or not. Luckily, a chance meeting with an otherworldly man named Hudson may steer all the girls’ paths into a different direction then they could have ever foreseen.The fire princess and her group of outcasts just want to find their place in the world. The only problem is, those around them don’t want to let that happen. Can these travelers use their differences to survive and find their place in the world or will they be killed by bloodthirsty head hunters before that can happen?An Amazon countdown deal will be from Monday, Feb. 17, to Friday, Feb. 21 starting at 99 cents on Monday and increasing a dollar a day back up to normal price of $5.99. Please use link that leads to Amazon page and records number of clicks: getbook.at/FirePrincess : scifiseries: Fire Princess and the OutcastsBy Luis Aleman(Winner of a writing contest voted on by members of VicsLab.com.)When a bounty mission takes an unexpected turn, it brings three girls together on a journey. The runaway princess with fiery red hair, Rosella, and her loyal former servant, Anneth, have escaped from their home to make there own place in the world. Backed into a corner by former mercenary Morvon, the pair of bounty hunters take in a talented young elf named Gertrude who’s always wished to travel.With a staggering bounty on the princess’ head, though, the girls soon learn that not every smiling soul has good intentions for them. Even worse, the royal family doesn’t seem to care if Rosella is returned to them all in one piece or not. Luckily, a chance meeting with an otherworldly man named Hudson may steer all the girls’ paths into a different direction then they could have ever foreseen.The fire princess and her group of outcasts just want to find their place in the world. The only problem is, those around them don’t want to let that happen. Can these travelers use their differences to survive and find their place in the world or will they be killed by bloodthirsty head hunters before that can happen?An Amazon countdown deal will be from Monday, Feb. 17, to Friday, Feb. 21 starting at 99 cents on Monday and increasing a dollar a day back up to normal price of $5.99. Please use link that leads to Amazon page and records number of clicks: getbook.at/FirePrincess

scifiseries: Fire Princess and the OutcastsBy Luis Aleman(Winner of a writing contest voted on by members of VicsLab.com.)When a bounty m...

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