safety rules for kids

Far too young to die

Request by @mr-robot-x : How would Jeff react when the reader dies in the accident instead of him. Clay and Justin support him.

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this, i listened to soooo many sad songs while writing this and idek how many times i watched my baby Jeff’s death scene and cried. Two of my friends read this and they cried. WE NEED TO PROTECT MY BABY, HE IS TOO PURE FOR THIS CRUEL WORLD

PLAYLIST

  • Saturn - Sleeping at last
  • If I die young - The band perry (iconic song in my opinion)
  • My immortal - Evanescence
  • People help the people - Birdy
  • Moments - One Direction 
  • The whole playlist for 13rw


Jeff’s POV

It was never supposed to happen this way. It should have been me! If that stupid stop sign wasn’t down and if I wasn’t drunk maybe things wouldn’t have ended this way.

*flashback* Y/N POV

As you got ready for the first party of the year, settling on a black romper and flats, you get a text from Jeff.

”be there by 20:30 x”

As you finished doing your hair, you heard your parents and who you presumed to be Jeff. As you walked into the kitchen it was as if he could sense your presence because he turned to you and flashed you a smile that was reserved only for you. You stood next to him and he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a loving kiss on your forehead. The drive to Jessica’s house was in a comfortable silence, with you humming to the tune of whatever song was on the radio and Jeff focusing on the road and having his hand resting on your leg.

You both stayed together for the duration of the party, as usual. You decided it was best that you not drink seeing that Jeff decided to play beer pong and someone will have to be the designated driver. You saw Clay and Hannah together and it looked like things were going well. Anyone could see that they liked each other if you paid enough attention. It seemed like the two were just waiting for the other to make the first move. Jeff was really doing a good deed by helping Clay, and from what you’ve heard, Hannah deserves happiness after everything the people at this school has put her through.

It was getting late, so you decided it be best that you and Jeff leave before he gets too drunk, knowing that he will regret it tomorrow morning. As you drove, Jeff filled the silence, “We should go for breakfast tomorrow”, he spoke. You smiled at him, “How about lunch? I don’t think your hangover is going to let you leave bed before 10″, you looked at him and laughed. But you were cut short by the sound of screeching tyres and crash, and everything suddenly went black.

You could hear a voice scream your name, no wait two voices. “y/n wake up, baby please just move, open your eyes. Do something so i know you’re okay please.” Jeff. “Jeff we have to get you out!” said the second voice. “NO! She needs to be okay Clay!” Clay, it’s Clay. You tried, you really tried to move but it was like you were stuck in cement. You wanted to just wrap your arms around Jeff and tell him that everything was going to be okay. That’s when you heard the sirens, the ambulance, Jeff still calling out your name. It pained you to hear him call and you not being able to do anything. It all sounded so distant, it sounded like it was happening miles away from the place you were. But what you heard next didn’t feel distant, it felt like it was being screamed into your ear. “Driver, female, late teens, time of death: 00:26.″

*present* Jeff’s POV

It’s been three days. Three days since I lost her. As I walk into school, everyone looks at me with sympathy and there’s road safety posters plastered everywhere. Are you fucking kidding me? “follow the rules of the road”, “road safety isn’t a joke.” Maybe if the fucking stop sign was up she would still be here. 

“Jeff, wait up”

“Clay, uh-hi”

“I’m not gonna ask how you’re holding up, but you’re my friend and I need to know if you’re gonna be okay at school.”

“I don’t know anymore, there was this part of me hoping she would be there waiting at my locker like she usually does, standing there with open arms ready to tell me it was all a nightmare and that she wouldn’t leave me.”

“Hey listen, everything becomes too much, just tell me and we can put our lessons on hold.”

“No, no don’t do that. She believed in me Clay, she always believed I would would get my grades up and play again and I can at least do that for her.”

“Jeff you know I’m always gonna be here okay? Just don’t do anything you’ll regret, just talk to me okay?”

“yeah thanks Clay”

*2 months later*

She would be proud, y/n would be proud. I got my grades up and coach is going to let me play again. I just wish she was her to see this. “And now stepping up to the plate, Liberty High’s golden boy has returned, Jeff Atkins!”

As I walked onto the field I felt like everything was coming together. I took my position, ready to use all my built up anger and frustration and hit the ball. That’s when I heard it, I looked into the crowd to see where that voice came from but no one was there. I shook it off and got into position again, then there she was, the biggest smile and cheering me on from “her spot” in the crowd and i froze, the bat falling to my feet as i stood there staring at the place she would always stand during my games.

“Jeff! hey man what happened? you good?” someone said as they placed their hand on my shoulder, forcing me to move my gaze from the crowd. “She was there, I heard her voice and I thought I saw her Justin.” “Jeff she’s not there, I’m sorry.” “She was always at my games, she wouldn’t miss any of them. She was my lucky charm.” “Jeff there’s something you need to know about the night of the accident. I-uh Hannah said something after she died, but I can’t say anything. Sheri is the only one who can tell you what really happened that night….”


TAGS: @mr-robot-x @fandoms-allovertheplace @beckybadgirl @loisfrost @homicidal-lemon @interstellarirwin @lowkeyprincipessa @mouray7

Anthony, meet Tony

For @one-piece-of-harry ’s idea. This is probably not at all what you were picturing but tada…

“What the Fuck?!” Tony asks, based on the way the kid flinches back his voice is just a little bit too loud.

“Sorry, Howard. Sorry.” The kid mumbles, staring resolutely at his feet. The name gives Tony pause, anxiety settling like a rock in his stomach. He recognizes that brown hair.

“It’s okay Anthony. I’m not mad, in fact you’re being very brave right now. I’m proud of you.” Tony says, trying to get close enough to shelter the kid from AIM’s attacks. Just because they apparently managed to bring him forward in time, doesn’t mean they’re done with their assault.

“Stark, incoming!” Clint warns, Tony turns, pulling the helmet back on and firing at the new targets. “Shit, is that a kid. Cap, Stark has a kid with him.”

“Woah.” Anthony whispers, staring wide eyed at Tony. “Is that a laser? How are you powering it? What are those people doing? Are you a superhero dad?” Tony’s heart hurts.

“Yeah, yeah I am.” Tony says, now isn’t the time to explain that he is not Howard Stark. Now is not the time to do anything except scoop up the kid and run. “Cap, I’m exiting the fight. Got a kid version of myself here, finish up without me.” There’s questioning noises over the coms’ but Tony ignores them, scooping up the kid, and running.

“Where are we going? Don’t you have to fight those guys?” Anthony asks, Tony looks down at him.

“You’re more important than some idiots who don’t know how last season yellow is.” Tony informs him, landing near the quinjet and climbing on board.

“We need to run some tests.” The Shield agent says, gesturing to Anthony. Tony glares at them, the repulsor whines as it charges up.

“I think that can wait, don’t you?” He asks. The woman has guts, she doesn’t even flinch.

“Dr. Stark, that is a you version of you, we need to find out if he’s from this universe, or if he travelled forward in time.” She protests. Tony keeps the kid close.

“I can do that, at my Tower. The rest of them should be back soon.” He waves get off, Shield can go fuck themselves right now.

“Tower? Time travel? Dad what’s happening?” Anthony asks. Tony sets him down, stepping out of the suit.

“Anthony, I’m not your father, I’m you.” Tony says, he watches his own heart break. Watches tears well up in the little boys eyes.

“So, dad’s still not proud of me then?” He asks, rubbing at his cheeks. Tony’s heart breaks.

“Anthony, you’re a brilliant, brave, caring, amazing kid.” He says, letting the kids hands ball up, clutching the undersuit.

“But, he’s still not proud of me?” Anthony wails, crying into Tony’s shoulder. “All he cares about is Captain America, why can’t he love me?”

“I don’t know kid, I don’t know. I’m sorry.” Tony rubs his back, fighting down his own tears. “I wish I had an answer for you.” He notices Steve out of the corner of his eyes and attempts to get him to walk away gesturing to the door with his chin.

“Tony, you can’t just go off coms like that mid-mission, you know better.” Steve scolds, stopping short when he notices the kid clutched in Tony’s arms.

“He’s mean!” Anthony practically screeches. “Why does dad like you more than me? You’re loud and mean, and I don’t understand!” Anthony’s whole body is shaking with sobs. Tony hums softly in his ear.

“It’s okay, you have Jarvis and Anna and they love you very much.” Tony soothes. Anthony shakes his head, sobbing.

“Jarvis died, and Anna is sick. Mom says it’s cancer.” Anthony wails. That’s too soon, Tony was a teenager by the time he lost Jarvis. He would have been so much worse off if he had lost them sooner.

“Multiverse then.” The shield doctor mumbles. Tony considers throwing something at her. “Reed can send him back.”

“No.” Tony states, glaring at her.

“It’s not that complicated, we can send him back.” She says, “Return him to his own universe.”

“I’m not sending him back. He can stay here, with me.” He says, Anthony blinks up at him, shocked.

“You love yourself so much you want to adopt yourself?” Clint attempts to rib him, but winds up confused about the wording of that sentence and glaring at the ground.

“Barton.” Tony deadpans, staring up at him. “You’re an idiot.” Anthony giggles in his arms, hiccuping slightly.

“I’m sorry for crying.” He whispers. Tony shakes his head.

“It’s okay if you cry Bambino. Gets the feelings out.” He smiles at the boy, and pokes his chest. “You don’t want to keep bad feelings in here, so you have to let them out.”

“Don’t wanna bad heart.” Anthony agrees, rubbing at his nose with his sleeve.

“You could never have a bad heart Bambino, just a sick one. And I don’t want you getting sick.” Tony says, poking Anthony’s nose. Anthony giggles.

“Does anyone else think this is weird?” Clint asks, only to be hustled out of the room by Natasha and Steve. He can yell at Tony later.

“J, I’m going to need paper work for Anthony.” Tony decides. “He needs to be enrolled in school. Also childproof the house, and order clothes.”

“Of course Sir.” Jarvis replies, Anthony’s eyes go wide.

“Jarvis?” He whispers awed. Tony tries to cover up a flinch.

“Not exactly kiddo. This is Jarvis 2.0, I made him after I lost my Jarvis. He’s a learning program.”

“Oh, okay. That’s really cool though.” Anthony mumbles, a single tear running down his cheek. “You’ll teach me about him sometime, right?”

“Of course. I can’t wait to show you our lab.” Tony says. Anthony hiccups, chest heaving.

“Ours?” He whispers. “I get to have a lab.”

“Of course you do. There’s going to be some strict safety rules, but we can share a lab.” Tony ruffles the kids hair. Anthony is staring at him like he hung the moon.

“You’re the best person I ever met.” He whispers. Tony laughs, beaming at the kid.

“Wait until you meet Rhodey, he’s my best friend.” Tony says. “He’s going to love you, spoil you rotten.”

“I don’t wanna be rotten!” Tony shrieks, hiccuping again.

“Don’t you worry Bambino, you’re the sweetest. No rot anywhere on you, right?” He tickles at Anthony’s side, and the kid shrieks trying to bat his hands away.

“No! No rot! Ahhhhahahaha.” He squirms out of Tony’s grip. “All sweet right?” He looks up through his lashes and Tony beams at him.

“The absolute sweetest kid.”

anonymous asked:

...you're not implying that people should put up with dogs jumping on them if they didn't consent to interacting with the dog in the first place, are you?

Hon, as someone who’s grown up with dogs all their life, anyone who fucking knows how to handle a dog is going to at the very least give you a heads up if they know their dog is a jumper. If you’ve got a friend that doesn’t do shit, they’re a bad dog owner and yeah, you should call them out on it.

And if you’re talking to just? A random dog on the street jumping on you?

You don’t know dogs.

I’m sorry, you don’t.

Because there are only two possible ways for a human to interact with a dog, without actually owning a dog, and that’s:

  1. With another human in charge of the dog or dogs, in an animal shelter or with a friend who does own a dog, or a stranger who happens to have their dog with them, in which case, refer back to the first paragraph of this post
  2. interacting with a stray

Strays don’t usually approach humans. Most of the time they’re not properly socialized and shy away. If they do approach you, they’re either an abandoned pet or about to attack you. And guess what! It’s up to you to take some initiative and protect your own damn self and tell which is which! Dog’s telegraph basically everything. If you can play a video game you can figure out if a dog is friendly or not

Tail tucked between legs? Ears back against the head? Teeth bared? Can you see the whites of its eyes? Is the dog growling at you? The dog is afraid of you! Don’t go near it!

Is the dog stiff? Is the dog staring directly at you but otherwise not moving? Even if this dog is wagging its tail, if the wag is stiff and its body is stiff, this dog is aggressive and/or afraid of you! Don’t go near it!

Tail wagging loosely? Barking but not otherwise baring teeth (and no growl)(note; those with experience around dogs are going to be better at telling the differences between dog barks, and you should never judge a dog on bark alone)? Whites of its eyes not visible? This dog is probably friendly and can be approached, BUT if the dog suddenly freezes, that’s your cue to back away! The dog will let you know if you fuck up and get too close before they go to bite.

Is the dog refusing to look at you? Is the dog panting when it’s not hot outside? Is the dog grooming itself as you’re trying to get its attention? Is the dog yawning? This dog is stressed! It might be friendly but it’s better not to get too close unless you’re a professional animal handler.

all this information came from two seconds of googling.

That along with basic as fuck dog safety rules that every parent should teach their kids (don’t pet dogs you don’t know, don’t go near a dog that’s foaming at the mouth, wash your hands after touching a stray) and while I can’t guarantee you’ll never get bit you’ll save yourself a lot of hassle.

Dogs don’t speak any human language. Yeah, we can train them to interact with our world better but it’s a fucking two way street. Instead of blaming the dog you can also do some leg work and educate yourself, you know?

I’m a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a bad dog, just dogs that aren’t in the right environment.

Exhibit A: Our collie, Layla. Sweetest dog ever, wouldn’t hurt a fly (okay, she did kill a squirrel once but that was an isolated incident), never bit anyone, never scratched anything but the door. She barked. A lot. She jumped. She never jumped on kids and she never jumped on old people. We tried everything to get her to not jump on people but all the training in the world didn’t change the fact that once she got up there she’d get pets (honestly that’s why she kept it up for so long). And if we ever had anyone over that wasn’t comfortable around dogs or didn’t want to get jumped on? We’d put her in my parent’s room until the guest was gone. Because we’re not fucking dicks. But we never blamed the dog. Layla was thriving in a great home environment that worked for her. 

Exhibit B: Our labrador, Romeo. Very high energy, not good with kids, needed a shit ton of space to run around. Liked to swim. Not the best dog to have on a half acre bluff with a five-year-old and a three-year-old, two ducks (long story) and we had water moccasins down by our property in the lake so we couldn’t let him down there to swim. He’d pop basketballs. He’d drag my three-year-old sister by the ponytail (because we got him as an older dog and he hadn’t been properly socialized). We tried to teach him that the tiny screaming human was, in fact, another person and not a chew toy, but after a few weeks of that we rehomed him to some duck hunters with 20 acres of land. We kept in touch for a few months (to make sure he was doing okay) and he made fast friends with their other dog, and had plenty of room to run around and the couple we gave him to didn’t have kids so there was no need to worry. Romeo wasn’t a bad dog, he was just a bad dog for usHe was great with them. 

Yeah, responsible dog ownership and all that, but there’s a point where you gotta fucking educate yourself instead of just blaming the dog all the fucking time.

Cause it’s people who blame the dogs that have had a real negative impact on our society. People who blame the dogs are the people who get pit bulls, german shephards, boxers, and rotwilers euthanized and in some cases banned because they’re “bad breeds.” Because they’re “bad dogs.”

Yeah, some dogs are gonna bite you no matter what you do. Yeah, some dogs are going to claw and jump and in general, not bow to your every whim. And it’s okay to not want to be around dogs because of that! Literally just tell your friends who own dogs that you don’t want to be around their dog and they’ll put their dog in another room while you’re there. And if they don’t they’re not a good friend or a good dog owner.

But when I see someone tagging a post that’s talking about a dog owner apologizing for their excited dog (which is more of a formality, as an excited dog isn’t an aggressive dog or a bad dog, just… a dog that’s happy to see you and wants you to pet it) and a dog lover totally feeding into the dog’s desire for pets and attention, when I see someone tagging a post like that with “if a dog jumps it’s a bad dog”?

You bet your ass I’m going to fucking say something about it.

anonymous asked:

- Hands you my adoption papers - Can you be my Papa? @Sophia

A god doesn’t need adoption papers to kidnap a new kid and aggressively making them happier as possible


But I need to give a good example so I will stand to those human rules for my kids safety

do you ever think about how completely fucking fascinating the evolution of popular attitudes toward the internet has been. I came to think of this after reading an article cautioning parents not to post too much about their kids online, and it hadn’t occurred to me that this was an actual problem–not because i’m fine with my parents posting about me, but because I’d grown up in a totally different atmosphere regarding internet use.

I grew up with parents who had a strict policy of “do not post pictures of yourself online, ever”, with very clear safety concerns for putting pictures of underage children online. The internet of my childhood was a potential danger as much as a resource, and my parents had a set of rules accordingly: don’t give anyone online your real name, don’t give out your address, don’t post pictures of yourself, don’t tell anyone online where you are or where you’re going, don’t go in chatrooms with strangers, don’t agree to meet IRL with anyone you met online. Those basic internet safety rules are probably familiar to a lot of 90s kids like me, and some of them are still pretty relevant. (I’ve broken several of them)

Over the years, my parents have evolved into people who post more pics of me than i do. My mom checks in everywhere she goes and tweets her location all the time. Half my facebook feed is my friends’, relatives’, and acquaintances’ small children.

Granted, there’s a large difference between my 50 year old mother tweeting her location to a follower group consisting mostly of her real-life friends, and a thirteen year old putting her bat mitzvah pictures on an anonymous forum in the “You IRL” thread (spoilers, that’s a thing I did, sorry mom). But parents tweet and post about their young kids now seemingly without any thought for possible repercussions, or even predators. (though it’s also true that places like twitter and fb have less potential reach than, say, an anonymous board where anyone can see anything you post).

People’s popular understanding of the internet has changed along with their usage; ten years ago the fear was that strangers on the internet would find me in real life; now the fear is that people i know in real life (or worse, potential employers) will find my presence online. This whole thing is just fascinating.

It’s interesting to read the essays people have written in defense of “Let It Go.” It seems that folks fall into one of these categories:

1) The song has a horrible message and we should stop our kids from singing it.

2) The song has a horrible message but the plot of the movie makes up for it.

3) The song is empowering and you should stop your anti-Mickey propaganda.

4) It’s just a song and it doesn’t matter. Lyrics have no impact on the morality of our kids.

After reading every comment, I’m still firmly in the first group.

Let’s teach our kids to tackle their problems head on, in the power of the Lord. They don’t have to be at the mercy of their feelings. They don’t have to “blow up” or “act out.”

There’s safety in morality and community. For kids, rules may seem oppressive at times, but that’s because their good judgement isn’t fully developed.

Let’s not have them running away from home and giving up on relationships when they feel “suppressed.”

The Bible says “No discipline is fun at the time, but it reaps a harvest of righteousness.”

Long-suffering is a virtue.

Running from our problems is called cowardice.

Not so little brother: Scott & Virgil

Part of a longer piece about Scott reflecting on Virgil that I’ll probably never finish. Not that long but I’ll put it under a read-more anyway.

With their current difference in physical stature, Scott always half-joked half-bragged to anyone listening, that there wasn’t a time when he remembered “little brother” Virgil actually being remotely little, but of course there was. Scott’s fondest memories after all, were when his little brothers were actually physically little, and cuddly, and lovely, and needed him the most; when they needed picked up, fed, put to bed and all the other things that little ones need. Scott loved recalling when they were all small and growing, learning and playing and happy, and Virgil, no matter how big he was now, was no exception to these memories. But the most vivid time that Scott remembers Virgil being particularly small, was an unfortunate one, a poignant one, and Scott recalls it all too well; when little Virgil first met Thunderbird Two.

—–

14-year-old Scott had followed quick on the heels of Virgil and his father, with both an air of concern and a slight jog as his little brother was reluctantly ushered into the engine room with dad. A room where, with the exception of Scott himself, none of the boys were allowed. This rule was drilled into them as firmly as the sign on the door, and Jeff barked the rule enough at John when Scott tried to sneak him into the room. Yet here their father was, suddenly abandoning all safety rules and luring little Virgil into the daunting NO KIDS ALLOWED room, where Thunderbird 2′s exterior had been freshly completed. There it was before them, incredible and bright and new and huge, thought Scott, but no doubt ten times more huge to Virgil, who had been very little then.

Scott had watched on quietly as Virgil was encouraged by their visibly excited father to sit in the newly finished pilot seat of the ‘Bird. He remembered how Virgil didn’t display the same excitement as dad. Rather he was sulking because the paintbrushes he had been occupying himself with beforehand had been suitably snatched out of his hands and replaced with the cold steering-wheel that sat before him now. A steering-wheel that he was a little frightened to touch and couldn’t even see over yet. Scott was only 14, but he was quickly catching onto these things. Virgil was only 7, and was already being reluctantly taken from his childhood and fitted into their father’s dream as if it was everyone’s dream.

Keep reading

We Need to Teach Kids to Use Guns

No, I am not joking.

I think if we included basic marksmanship and more importantly, gun safety into the curriculum of the public school system we would see a decrease in accidental deaths and decrease the irrational attitudes we towards firearms; both the irrational fear of some, and the irrational attraction we have seen inspired by media like of Call of Duty and the Expendables. 

Now, what do I think we should teach kids? And when? I think it would of course have to start with safety. The root of it all has to be safety. We should teach the four basic rules of firearm safety while kids are still in elementary school. The rules are as follows,

  1. ALL GUNS ARE ALWAYS LOADED

  2. NEVER LET THE MUZZLE COVER ANYTHING YOU ARE NOT WILLING TO DESTROY

  3. KEEP YOUR FINGER OFF THE TRIGGER UNTIL YOUR SIGHTS ARE ON THE TARGET

  4. BE SURE OF YOUR TARGET

After teaching the basic rules and teaching safe handling of weapons, we should get kids some trigger time. Not with actual firearms, not yet. It would have to start with BB guns. They are almost without recoil, cause little to no injury even if someone is shot, and are very simple for someone to use. With eye protection and safe range policies there really is no safer way to learn basic marksmanship and safety. This should be mandatory.

Now after this basic familiarity training, everything else should be optional. Kids should be able to learn marksmanship with .22 rifles and beyond as they get older and advance through school. They don’t need to be actual classes, but weekend programs that take interested students(with parental permission of course) to get time on range with more advanced weapons and larger calibers. 

I believe such a program would demystify firearms to both the gun enthused and those that are afraid of guns. They are tools first and foremost that have a purpose. They are for sport. For putting food on the table. For defense of the family. For defense of the country. They can be fun, and they can be fascinating. But in the end if you do not treat them with respect they will bite you, or someone else. If we can teach everyone this we’ll see a safer and better society.