What do you think about the age of consent in Japan?
That it’s 13 in some places, but that only applies to 13-17 year olds when it comes to sex itself. However anyone of any age can do things like groping, kissing, etc to them, despite the fact they’re FUCKING CHILDREN??? And there are places where people can actually PAY to do that to fucking KIDS and it’s completely legal?
I have a question; have you ever thought abt turning off anon? Everyone is always misgendering you and it sucks seeing it and I can only imagine it blows actually receiving those messages. Ps ily
honestly? it’s worth sifting through the literally shit to have new ideas and challenging questions. as an example, the one about reproductive rights!! that’s actually a really good question and i wouldn’t have been able to answer it if it weren’t for anon.
i’m not at the point where i get more hate than support. humans are inherently good-natured; i genuinely believe this and i have the anons to prove it
I never thought I would see you again. You came to me in the night, drenched in river water, muttering things that I knew must be secrets, because you spoke them in another language.
Your irises switched colors when you thought I wasn’t looking. They were mud-brown when you showed up on my porch, and then flickered to blue just before I passed out at your feet. The thing is, your eyes used to be green.
Why did you come to me? I thought we had said goodbye for good when the car hit the bottom of the river, your cheeks inflated with air. I remember hearing your screams through the water as I swam away. I remember bubbles scratching at my toes.
I watched you as you slowly scaled the steps. I should have fixed them during the summer. I meant to. You sat on the porch swing. The creaks sounded like words. What were you trying to say?
I’m sorry. I should have drowned with you.
You’re angry, aren’t you? I found you in my kitchen later that night, the sink overflowing. You were in it face first, sending pockets of air skittering across the watery counter.
I screamed. You lifted your head up, and smiled. I went back to bed.
I found you in my tub the next morning, looking at the solitary rubber duck like it was a demon. I put it in the cupboard.
Why don’t you talk when we eat dinner? You used to tell me about your day. You would tell me stories, your voice shaking with passion, and then dropping to dark and mysterious whispers. Now, you don’t even whisper. You just sip your glass of water and watch me.
I am uncomfortable. Why did you come back?
Water has begun to leak from the soles of your shoes, and the edges of your jacket. If you would stay in the bathtub, I wouldn’t have to replace the rugs every week, or sop up water from the floor.
Why won’t you stay in the bathtub, or at least sit out on the porch? You’ve begun to sit on the edge of my bed. It’s hard to sleep when I’m drowning.
Remember when you first moved in? You made me pancakes. I made you pancakes when you came back, and all you did was place them in the sink and turn on the faucet.
You’re supposed to put peanut butter on pancakes, not water.
Who are you now? You’re different.
You used to hate water. It was a phobia of yours. Now, you push back the shower curtain and just stand there in the water spray as I cover myself with soap.
I am uncomfortable. Why did you come back?
I am slowly drowning with you.
Get back in the river, where you belong.
Leave my porch, and my kitchen, and my table, and my bathtub, and my bed, and my shower, and my head.
You’re making me uncomfortable.
I’m afraid of water, now. I guess it’s becoming a phobia.
One night after a difficult mission made Bruce even gruffer than usual, his children gathered for a group complaining session that featured sarcastic Bruce-impressions and comments like “it would be nice to get positive feedback every once in awhile”
“I get that he loves us and all, but he could stand to show it” “Or say it, even. Never heard him do that”
At that point Cass, who had been sitting quietly, confused all of her siblings by replying, “He says that a lot”
See, Cass’s understanding of language is different. She reads body language, and it allows her to understand how people feel when they aren’t necessarily communicating it to others. Technically, Cass has never heard Bruce say “I love you.” But she’s certainly seen him say it many, many times
And since her siblings found that hard to believe, she set about proving it to them. Through the rest of the mission, every time she saw Bruce say “I love you,” she approached the nearest sibling and whispered “There”
[Bruce adjusts Damian’s cape on his way past] “There”
[Bruce rolls his eyes as Dick and Tim strike intentionally melodramatic poses on the rooftop] “There”
[Bruce hands Duke a granola bar when his stomach starts growling] “There”
[Bruce uses excessive force on a villain that came slightly too close to Jason] “There”
[Bruce tells off the collective JLA for unprofessional behavior while they openly ignore him and continue said behavior] “There”
[Bruce turns away from the truly impressive kick flip Cass used to incapacitate three separate combatants with absolutely no change in expression] “There. See? He’s proud”
The others aren’t totally sure they believe her, but if she’s right…. wow. That kind of changes everything
And since Bruce had no idea any of that went on, she’s free to continue. Whenever Cass sees that one of her brothers is feeling down, she follows them around to act as Bruce’s translator. Somebody has to do it, she figures