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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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Like the thing is, Dick’s actual canon adoption, in Gotham Knights #17?

I don’t like it. At all. I actually hate it. Like a lot. LOL.

It SHOULD be heart-warming. It SHOULD be the peak of Bruce and Dick’s relationship, the culmination of all the good between them that very much does exist, despite how much I rant about Bruce’s parenting flaws and writing.

But it wasn’t. Because it was just the two of them in the Batcave, and maybe some people might say that’s how it should be because it was just about them, it was intimate, needed nobody else....but it wasn’t just about them.

Because they’re hugely high profile, both in their civilian and superhero personas. EVERYONE is involved in their fights, even if just as spectators, because there’s no way to not be aware. Their years of distance were very public matters, gossipped about in both civilian and superhero circles.

And ignoring that ignores the effects that all of this had on literal years of Dick’s characterization.

In GK #17, Bruce says this is long overdue....but he also goes on to say its just a confirmation of what was already known and felt between them for years, that it was a mere formality as much as anything.

But??? No???

That’s not REMOTELY accurate to Dick’s characterization during any of their periods of estrangement. It completely disregards dozens of issues that built upon or even revolved around Dick’s insecurities about his place in Bruce’s family and in his eyes. These were things that had huge effects on Dick’s other relationships, and the dynamics he built with almost all his friends and family. Its a direct source of how almost desperately Dick puts himself out there at times, emotionally, in order to leave no doubt whatsoever as to how he feels....because unintentionally or not, he’s understandably been conditioned to view it as HIS fault, a lack on HIS part, when people don’t give him the emotional responses he’s looking for and hoping for, like, he’s come to believe its because he’s just not being clear enough about what he wants and needs from other people.

All of this directly stems from Dick’s abandonment issues and fears of rejection, extremely critical parts of his core characterization....and there’s no way to divorce those things from the fact that he has literally at times been kicked out of the Manor, been coldly dismissed, willfully ignored, etc. It doesn’t matter if you regard most of those things as bad writing or not the parts of Bruce’s characterization you’re looking for.....because like it or not, the end results are extremely apparent and relevant parts of Dick’s characterization, that like...there IS no other source for, because like....his relationship with Bruce is the ultimate foundation of who he is as an adult, its his most important relationship, bar none, and like....of course his relationship with the person who raised him is going to have the most powerful impact on who he is as an adult, be the most significant influence on his strengths AND his weaknesses.

Ignoring how Bruce’s bad writing shaped Dick in turn, ignores huge parts of how Dick has been shaped and who he’s been shaped into.

And nothing to me embodies that, and writers and fans’ willful choice not to engage with huge parts of Dick’s canon characterization because of how it reflects on Bruce....than in the adoption scene in GK #17.

Its treated as an afterthought, like a formality, like its just a token of something that’s long been accepted as fact when....it just wasn’t. Not by Dick. He didn’t have anywhere close to a rock solid certainty that this was the spot he occupied in Bruce’s eyes, because no matter how many times Bruce may have SAID he viewed Dick as a son....actions speak louder than words, and Bruce is VERY much a man of action, more so than words.

So there’s simply no rational way Dick can be expected to look at Bruce’s actions in having adopted Jason and established a precedent for being willing to do that, as well as Dick’s own actions in asking flat out, why he couldn’t have been adopted too, clearly expressing a desire for this.....like, there’s just no way you can have Dick look at those factual observations, and compare them to Bruce merely having said on occasion that he viewed Dick as a son or couldn’t love him more if he were legally his son....and NOT come away with at least some kind of nagging uncertainty or doubt like....if that’s actually true, where has that offer of actual adoption been before now?

So...it wasn’t a formality for Dick. It was him FINALLY getting this thing he very clearly had been wanting and wishing for in canon for years and years....

And just seeing it TREATED like an afterthought.

He was expected to put on a tux and ‘perform’ for crowds of rich Gotham snobs who sneered down their noses at Bruce’s charity case, while growing up....but the one time Bruce actually steps forward to claim Dick as his son, in no deniable terms....Bruce does it in the shadows, in the Batcave, with just the two of them, like they were all that mattered.

But they weren’t. Because as I said before....their fights, their estrangement, the times Bruce PUSHED Dick away and KEPT him at arms length...those were ALL a matter of public record, within the hero communities if not the actual Gotham public.

And I maintain that for Dick’s sake, the inverse of that, Bruce’s stepping up and trying to FIX all of that, trying to establish no matter what else has come between them, this is who they are, father and son....

It should have been just as public. It should have been Bruce staring down all the people who’d sneeringly dismissed his son as a charity case and not worth their time, with a press conference or party, and him saying in no uncertain terms, in words nobody could get wrong, no, fuck you, this is my son, every bit as much as any of you have children. This is my heir, and I’m proud of him and I WANT him.

At the very least, where was the rest of their family? Where were Dick’s friends? Where was his Uncle Clark and Aunt Diana, the Titans, where were Tim and Barbara and Alfred?

What, like, its not weird that the next time Dick saw all of those people and they asked hey, what’s up, anything interesting happen last week, he had to have been well Bruce adopted me, so there’s that...like....does that not strike people as fucking WEIRD to have to like, here from this grown man himself, like its just this incidental thing that happened over the weekend instead of a BIG FREAKING DEAL...especially given that anyone who knew and loved Dick KNEW how much he had to have been wanting this? Where were the celebrations with his friends or family, where was Donna hugging him and Roy and Wally clapping him on the back and saying congrats man, we know how much this has to mean to you? Where were Clark and Diana staring at Bruce with carefully impassive faces with just a hint of judgment but also upturned lips as they’re like....well its about damn time, you dumbass?

Nah. Instead, we got Bruce and Dick, alone in the Batcave, with Bruce awkwardly saying well I meant to say this all along, but here’s me saying it in writing for this first time, with just you around to witness it...and Dick saying, aww, its no big deal, in fact I didn’t even really need this, I know how you feel Bruce and I always have.

Like??? FUCKING NO HE HASN’T LOL DICK NOT KNOWING FOR SURE WAS LITERALLY THE DRIVING FORCE BETWEEN A DECADE LONG CONFLICT BETWEEN THEM, LMFAO.

And you’ll never convince me that on some level, Dick didn’t take that adoption and secretly in his heart of hearts still nervously wonder if it was real, if Bruce meant it...or if he’d just done it out of obligation, because if he really meant it, why do it so quietly, when Bruce’s primary characteristic is he doesn’t know HOW to do subtle, lol, the only real way he ever knows how to express himself sincerely in just about any other instance is with GIANT GRAND GESTURES because he KNOWS he’s emotionally repressed and anything less than that is almost inevitably doomed to be misunderstood. When Bruce REALLY wants something expressed, he goes big or goes home.

But an adoption of his adult son, years after that son has made it abundantly clear that he wanted this, an adoption that he himself calls a mere formality and tries to undersell as no big deal, not even what REALLY matters....

That’s not going big or going home, its just....sad.

I mean, that’s how it came across to me.

I WANTED it to be heart-warming. I WANTED it to be everything that Dick had ever wanted from their relationship.

I just....don’t think it was anywhere close to that.

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jasperrollswrites · 7 years

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The Baritone and the Critic

More commissions. This is a bit of a silly one but I feel it’s important, because it features yours truly. Done for AgentofEmpathy on FA. There was going to be an original song but it would’ve made the story too long.

———————

In comparison to the sweltering heat outside, the main theater of the auditorium was enjoyably cool. It had to be, since the stage lights would be heat enough on the actors, and if anyone in the audience ended up passing out, it'd probably be pretty embarrassing. There wasn't a full audience in there right now, of course. They'd come later. Right now, the wide open room, filled to the brim with art deco style architecture, had only two occupants.

They were sitting in one of the front seats on the balcony. One was in fairly okay shape. He wore a red shirt, with a brown jacket over it. His dark brown hair was short, with a slight flick at the ends. He looked pretty young, no real blemishes or anything on his face. The other was slightly chubby, wearing a tight dark blue hoodie. His dark brown hair was quite long in comparison, reaching down towards the small of his back, but it didn't look like he took particularly good care of it - it was washed at least, but clearly hadn't been combed.

"What is it, tonight?" the long-haired one asked, turning towards his companion.

"Uhh...some opera. The Magic Flute." they replied.

"Oh, I actually know that one."

"You know an opera, Jasper?" the one in the brown jacket responded, laughing a little.

"Yes," Jasper replied, indignantly. "I am slightly cultured, Spencer. I bet you didn't know it."

"Fair enough." Spencer admitted. "How do you know so much, though?"

"I had a children's book version of it when I was a kid." Jasper said, reminiscing. "Well...I mean it looked like a children's book, but all the dialog was straight from the story, so it was kind of confusing for an 8-year old."

"What's it about?"

"Uh...it's kind of weird." Jasper began. "There's this prince from another country, and the queen of that country tells him that if he saves her beautiful daughter from some...evil guy, she'll let him marry her. But then it turns out that the guy who kidnapped the queen's daughter might not be evil after all...he has to go through some trials...there's a lot of stuff about being in the Masons, I think, 'cause Mozart was a Mason or something like that."

"And what about the flute?" Spencer asked.

"Oh, yeah, that like...barely comes up I think. Like, the prince gets given it about halfway through by some servant boys, and it gets used like once for some deus ex machina near the end, I guess. I'm probably remembering it wrong."

Spencer stood up, stretching his legs a bit. "Man, why are they keeping us around here?" He asked. "It's not like there's anything left to do. Cleaning's all done. People won't be coming for like...3 hours."

"To check nothing else gets messed up I guess?" Jasper replied, still sitting as he pulled out his phone. "I mean, I don't mind getting paid to sit around for 3 hours."

"Yeah, guess so." Spencer said. "I'm gonna go look around." Jasper made a noncommittal humming noise, evidently more interested in his phone. Spencer looked down as the phone's speaker began making music. Looked liked he was playing air hockey or something. Spencer turned away, making his way to the back of the balcony, before heading through the doors that lead outside.

As Spencer closed the door back to the auditorium and entered into the corridors wrapping around it, he was struck by how silent it was. The light red wallpaper was brightly lit, and there were no windows. It felt like it was completely divorced from the rest of the world - that there was nothing beyond the walls of these corridors. He walked down the plush red carpet on the stairs, towards the lower floor of the auditorium. Opening one of the wide doors, he walked back in. He could barely hear the hiss of Jasper's game up above. The lights were low, except on the stage, where a single spotlight was pointed at the centre. Spencer walked along the rows of seats, all red and slightly plump with comfortable fluff. It was a pretty classy place, with the pillars a stark alabaster white, with lines of gold curving around in intricate patterns. They didn't seem to have done anything special for the play, however. Spencer guess it might be a pared back production, for whatever reason. Maybe they didn't have a big budget

He walked silently around the orchestra pit, then began climbing the hard steps to the stage. As he did, he was surprised by the sound of his footsteps - they'd been silent on the carpet of the audience area, now they were much louder. He turned towards the balcony, in time to see Jasper look up from his phone. He looked quite small from where Spencer was standing.

"Are you going to sing for me?!" Jasper yelled, feigning delight.

"Very funny!" Spencer yelled back.

As he stepped up onto the stage, however, Spencer felt a bit funny. He wasn't much of a singer. Everyone sung to themselves in their room, or in the shower, or something, but Spencer hadn't really done in front of audience. Jasper's comment had made him feel a bit indignant. Maybe he should sing. He might be really good at it. You never knew.

He looked around the stage, looking behind the curtain and into the wings. There were a few props lying around, stuff he assumed was needed for the opera tonight. A gramophone was set out, although it looked pretty dusty, the metal of the...speaker looking dirty and unpolished. A handkerchief with a red edge had been laid on the part where the record was placed. He picked the handkerchief up, using it to dust the gramophone a little.

"No respect, really." He muttered to himself. He felt himself a little stung by Jasper's remark, the more he thought about it. It had been kind of a mean thing to say...well, okay, maybe not, but the implication was rude. He looked back towards the centre of the stage, where the spotlight was shining. If he sung, that would shut Jasper up. And if it didn't, well...who else would know? He walked towards the spotlight, handkerchief still in hand. Now that he was in the centre of it, it was hard to see the audience. He looked up to where he thought Jasper was. He could just barely see him, his feet up on the ledge of the balcony, still messing around with his phone. Spencer scratched his upper lip a little, feeling it itch a bit. As he pulled his hand away, a few hairs pushed through the skin, growing faster than normal.

What should he sing? It was an opera tonight. Something classical would fit. Canon in D. Everyone knew that one. He felt a little nervous, but closed his eyes. There was no-one there except Jasper. There was nothing to be afraid of.

He began to hum the opening notes, holding the handkerchief tightly in his right hand. First a B, then an F, then G after that, followed by a D...as he carried along with the song, he tried to be a bit louder, letting his voice project a little. Didn't they say something about speaking from the diaphragm in drama lessons at school? It was a little tough to do, so he might as well just keep singing from the throat.

As he sung, the hairs on his lip were pushing out more now, gaining in thickness. A mustache was forming across his upper lip, although it didn't look like much at the moment. As he moved on to the next measure of the song, he raised his voice further, trying to reach Jasper's ears now. He put his left hand on his stomach, and as he did, it bloated outward slightly. He began to sing the song's main melody, a series of sonorous "la"-s bouncing around the room. It wasn't bad, he thought. But maybe it wasn't loud enough...

As he thought that, Jasper spoke up. "Can't hear yooouuu! Speak up!" He said, kind of mockingly. Spencer stopped abruptly and frowned up at Jasper. His voice sounded strange, like he hadn't cleared his throat. It was hard to see through the glaring spotlight but...yes. He was still wrapped up in his phone. Now that felt really unfair. Of course he couldn't hear Spencer if he was more concerned with his stupid game! Lazy, fat idiot. He looked a bit bigger than before. But the spotlight wasn't on him, now, was it? It was on Spencer.

A game...maybe a song from a game would be more his speed. But what song? They weren't really known for anything particularly operatic...except. Spencer grinned to himself. He knew the perfect song. He took a breath in, his belly swelling a little bit more as he did. He could almost hear the organ playing.

"Bwah. Hum. Ah-hem." He gave out a few test notes, trying to sing from his diaphragm. This was a lower song than Canon in D, so he'd need to be going for...what was it? They had names for this kind of thing. A low and bassy voice. Baritone, his mind offered. Probably. He did a bit more vocal testing. "Bwaaah, bwa-bwaaahhh..." the more he did it, the easier it felt, and the more he did it...the more he grew.

The hair on his upper lip was now pushing into a proper mustache, and as it reached its full length, it curled round a little at the ends. He coughed a bit, and without really thinking about how he didn't have a mustache a minute earlier, stroked it. Hair was now pushing out over his skin now, but this wasn't the dark hair of the mustache that now adorned his face...this hair was white. His belly swelled further, becoming impossible to miss, causing his shirt to ride up. He smirked, feeling ready to let his real voice come out. He opened his mouth, and out came the baritone he was looking for.

"Who's done me a thousand wrongs, ever since Donkey Kooooong..." he held the last note, his voice quivering. He closed his eyes, put his left hand to his chest, while raising his right into the air dramatically, the handkerchief flipping over in his hand. The white hair was pushing out all over now, in his arms and hands, across his belly and chest...on his face. He felt a little itchy, but he couldn't let it stop him from performing.

"Slithering down every pipe, despite his plumb-shaped body type..." his voice was beginning to change, not just now he was singing in baritone. He was rolling his Rs, his words gaining a slight Mediterranean tone. His belly kept on pushing outwards with every note he held, the hairs across it thickening...he wasn't just looking a bit hirsute. This was becoming proper fur adorning his belly. He cracked open an eye, to get a look at Jasper...it was hard to see, but his "friend" seemed to be paying attention...although he looked a bit bigger than before.

"Who's gonna run in fear, while screaming 'Mamma-miaaaaaaa'?" He was really enjoying those long notes. With every single one, his belly swelled - it was getting beyond just chubby, or fat, this was becoming obese. It was starting to sag down, but Spencer didn't feel impaired at all. As his shirt and jacket rode up, however, they too began to change. His shirt remained red, but the material it was made of was becoming more comfortable...a little more plush. Little buttons bloomed out, as a split formed down the middle, the shirt becoming a little waistcoat, with a spiralling design being drawn into it.

Meanwhile, his jacket was changing a lot more. The brown colour was deepening, turning towards purple, before rolling back, into a ocean blue colour, that stood out in the light of the spotlight. The back of the jacket began to push down, over his swelling buttocks, into the coattails of a much smarter blazer. The sleeves of the jacket folded back, as cufflinks set themselves into the softening material. The collar rose up around his cheeks, which were beginning to get plump with fat, and fluffy with white fur. His pants were being stretched to the limit, by his oversized body, but he was far more focused on the performance.

"Who leaves me gray and grim? Oh, what does Peach see in him?" As the white fur pushed out over his face, his hair began to change too. The curl in the dark brown hair got more intense, quite literally curling up into little rolls of hair, and as they did, they began to lose colour, turning grey, before reaching a white tone closer to that of the fur he was growing. His nose was sinking into his face, the fur covering it up. He took a deep breath, pleased with his first verse, his open mouth revealing a set of blunt buck teeth. He was about to launch into the second, when a cruel, gravelly voice interrupted him.

"Oh, goodness me. You call this opera?" It was Jasper, it could only be Jasper, but...he sounded wrong. It was hard to see him past the spotlight. "I've heard elementary school choirs that sang better than this!"

Spencer felt the anger rising up in him. What was this guy's deal? To be so rude, for no reason, especially to someone like him...

"Do you know exactly who you're talking to?" he said, trying to resist singing it out.

"A hack?" came the response from the darkness of the auditorium.

"Get some lights on this man!" Spencer yelled, and at his will, a set of lights swivelled towards the audience and turned on, pointed at where Jasper was sitting.

Jasper recoiled from the light, but it was clearly a changed Jasper. He too, had bloated in size tremendously, much fatter and larger than he had ever been before. Gone was the blue hoodie and jeans - now what adorned him was a brown tuxedo, with a bow tie tightly tied around his fattened neck. His skin was now a light purple, his hands fat and stubby. His hair was still long, but it was beginning to brighten, into a fiery orange.

He raised a hand to protect himself from the light. His wide mouth opened slightly, revealing two rows of yellowed, cavity filled teeth - too many sweets, nowhere near enough brushing. "Listen, pal," he growled out. "I don't know who you think you are, but you should definitely know me, well enough."

"Can't say I've ever heard of a tub of lard like yourself." Spencer retorted.

"Tub of lard!! Take a look at a mirror, buddy!" Jasper fired back. Spencer was thrown off by his comment. What was he talking about...he looked down, and finally noticed his own, bloated body.

"Where did...that..." Spencer murmured, his head getting fuzzy. He was sure he hadn't been this fat earlier...had he...? He looked down at his hands...fur was all over them, they were getting so fuzzy he couldn't see the definition between his fingers any more. He turned them over to see a paw pad on the palm of his hand - his hands had blurred together - it looked like he was wearing mitts, but they were definitely his hands. He could feel them. They were his hands.

"See, the difference is," Jasper began, "Unlike you, I'm good at being fat. Look at you! You can barely recognize yourself! Honestly, is this the kind of quality we're supposed to look forward to now? Where's the manager? I have a complaint to file."

The blobby, furry fellow on the stage shook his head, clearing the fuzziness. "Listen, you! I am the Phantom! I'm the master of this stage, and small-minded critics like you have no place in this theater!" As he announced his own name, a set of furry, floppy ears popped out of the top of his head, pushing through the flat, white head of hair that he now owned.

The monstrous purple creature giggled, doubling over a little, before breaking out into a cruel, mocking laughter that reverberated around the auditorium. As he laughed, his belly swelled further, his size overall inflating, becoming bigger than any human, his blazer being pulled to its limit.

"You? YOU!?? YOU'RE the Phantom?!?" He exclaimed incredulously. "Oh, that's the funniest thing I've heard in weeks! You! The Phantom! You should go into comedy, you'd make a killing!" He wiped his eyes.

"And, what, exactly, is so funny about my name?" Phantom replied.

"Oh...oh, you dear, naive, thing. You really don't know me, do you?"

"I think I have made it clear I don't have the time to remember the names of whiny small-time critics such as yourself."

The purple creature extended his arms outwards, displaying his hands theatrically, revelling in the spotlight that had been thrust upon him. "Small-time? My child, nothing could be further from the truth! My name is Jasper Rolls! Esteemed critic, part-time writer of Broadway-worthy plays..." Jasper leant forward, gripping the edge of the balcony with zeal. "...full-time monster, to puny little opera singers like you. My word can make or break you...and with the indignance you've shown to me, I'm heavily favouring break!"

"Well, then, Mr. Rolls." Phantom replied, smirking. "Maybe I can change your opinion."

"Oh," Jasper Rolls replied, with a drawl. "I rrreally doubt that."

"You do? Well, just watch!" And with that, Phantom leapt up, with a surprising amount of athleticism, and flipped back, almost floating across the stage, before landing with a heavy thump on the gramophone. There was a moment of strange noises, and then, Phantom's belly turned transparent, revealing a couple of things - his legs had phased away, leaving him with a ghost-like tail, and the gramophone was stored inside his monstrous belly.

Jasper raised his bushy, fiery orange eyebrows, as his hair curled upwards, into a devils-horns hairstyle. He might have been a bit quick on this one, he thought to himself. He sat back, reaching out to the side, where a box of popcorn that wasn't there before had placed itself, and began to stuff his face, ready for the real show.

His belly dragged down by the gramophone in his ghostly body, Phantom floated towards the centre of the stage. He was going to show this critic a thing or two. This time, the music wasn't just in his head - the sound of a loud organ blared. The lyrics were coming into his head - he'd always been good at improvising on the spot. He sang out, a few test notes, his voice reverberating around the auditorium. The lights turned on by themselves, props began to move onto the stage. This was where it really started.

"I do hope you enjoy this one, Mr. Rolls!" Phantom remarked. "It's been written especially for you."

---

The pair were back atop the balcony, taking up several more seats than they had before. It had been easy for Phantom to get back up there, given that he could float around as he pleased. The gramophone still rested in his translucent belly. Whatever had happened in the intervening minutes, the result had been that the two seemed to have warmed to each other amicably.

"Oh, people think of me some sort of parasite, never happy with what I see on the stage." Jasper was saying. "They just don't get it! I appreciate good, quality theater! That's all I want. It just so happens that 99% of what these idiots put out is pure garbage."

"I would have to agree," Phantom replied, resting his hands on his stomach. "But, I hope you don't mind me saying, you are perhaps too quick to judge. I mean, I barely got through my first verse, and you were already chewing me out."

"Oh, well, if you've led my life...snap judgements are easy to make," Jasper said. "I spent the longest, most abominable time trying sort out this troupe of kid actors...ugh, it was torture. They never listened. I only just got out of it, so I was a bit on edge. But..." He held his hands up in admission, then set one around his companion's ghostly shoulder, smiling perhaps the most warmly he had in awhile. "I'm perfectly willing to admit when I'm wrong, my friend."

Phantom returned the gesture, smiling as well. "I will admit my own shortcomings on judging you, as well." The pair looked at each other, feeling a little strange about gaining a friendship, after both of them spending so long alone...but it seemed like one that would last for a good while. Phantom couldn't wait to see where it would lead them.

#writing #transformation #mario + rabbids kingdom battle #phantom #psychonauts #jasper rolls

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asagimeta · 7 years

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I fully agree that Scott & Stiles are pretty recent friends. Like, in the pilot there's a throwaway line of "you always say nothing happens in this town" from Stiles about Scott but... them not actively being friends until shortly before canon (say, when Scott moved back?) would ABSOLUTELY explain a lot. Stiles probably sidles up to all the new kids at some point all "hey, my dad's the local law enforcement, I know all and have connections everywhere, I can help you" and Scott stuck around.

Thank you Anon! I agree with this, and plus Stiles just is one of those people who strikes me as the social, “I want the kid to have a buddy” type of person, I always did that with new kids and as a matter of fact, I had a best freind for 11 years who started out as The New Girl I Warmed Up To, so this is very likely, plus as some of the folks in the meta chat pointed out, Scott and Stiles were prime targets for eachother at the time, have you ever heard that saying “Find someone who’s demons play well with your own?”, that’s what Stiles and Scott did, because meeting at- let’s just say eleven, would mean very specific things for their personalities:

Stiles still pretty fresh from his mom’s death, his dad in the throws of alchoholism, in the process of losing freinds (the transition into middle school just naturally does this, adding on top of it the fact that he was probably alienated after his mom’s death makes this even worse) he’s at the height of his abandonment issues with no mother figure in his life and DESPERATE to take care of someone- Stiles is a caretaker, but he’s a caretaker in overdrive because of his issues- more importantly, someone who won’t leave him, Stiles needs to be needed in a deeply, deeply desperate way

Scott is new in town (or newly BACK in town) still dealing with the pains of his parents’ divorce, his dog is dead, he has no freinds, he’s sick all the time with asthma, his mom works more often than not and to be quite honest Scott isn’t exactly a social butterfly, whereas Stiles has no problem walking up to someone random and starting a conversation, Scott- especially pre-Alpha Scott- is alot more timid about approaching new people, he’s alone and awkward and sickly and would probably cling like a magnet to anyone who gave him the time of day

So you have two people who’s needs feed off of eachother PERFECTLY here (but not really in a balanced way), you have Stiles who gets to take care of someone all the time- someone who isn’t going to leave him because Scott has nowhere to go and no one else to go TO- who actually NEEDS Stiles and will in fact cling to him, someone who not only needs him on an emotional level but on a physical level too, and hey! He comes with a free maternal figure- AWESOME! Then for Scott, you have someone who isn’t ONLY paying attention to him- but giving him ALL of his attention, all of his time and effort and care, who’s HAPPY to take care of him and does nothing but support him and protect him and spend time with him- and hey! Free father figure to boot! Plus they can both kind of get their parents off their backs in a way, Stiles can show Scott to his dad and say “See? I’m ok, I have a freind, no need to worry about me or think I need to be sent to juvie, here’s my freind and he’s a good kid so I’m ok!”, and Scott can do the same thing with his mom “Look Mom, I have a freind! He’s a really outgoing freind too so I’m not alone and you don’t have to worry- plus he makes me look good because I can do things I’m not supposed to do without getting in trouble!” (after all, his dad IS the sheriff and would probably let Scott go, and Stiles, as we’ve seen in canon, often gets blamed for things that aren’t his fault just because he’s louder and more obnoxious than Scott is, it’s like having a pet, if you break your mom’s vase you automatically get the chance to blame the dog, and because Stiles IS kind of like a dog in human form when it comes to loyalty, Stiles probably rolls over and LETS people blame him for Scott’s misdeeds, I had a freind who I took the heat for a few times myself, I had a reputation as a goody-two-shoes so whenever she screwed up I would go “It wasn’t her fault it was mine” and nothing would happen *snort*)

This relationship SOUNDS pretty beautifull, and it sounds good in the way that I’ve always thought powerplay!Sterek sounded good, but the key difference is that unlike with Sterek- two adults who have some life experience and who are very sincerely doing something for their parnter’s benefit- Scott and Stiles are two scared kids clinging to eachother because they were the first options available that fit together and neither of them knows how to deal with the problems that come out of a codependent relationship, and that’s evident from season one all the way through season six, everytime Scott tries to detatch Stiles flips the hell out and probably breaks out in hives, and everytime Stiles does anything Scott doesn’t approve of Scott takes the opportunity to shake his finger at Stiles and give him an ultimatum that makes things so, so much worse- and worst of all, neither of them ever actually understood why they were in the relationship from a codependent standpoint, Scott CLEARLY doesn’t understand Stiles’ need to be in control and taking care of someone on a concious level or he would have more sympathy for him and not be constantly tripping that alarm the way he does, and Stiles doesn’t understand that Scott A. Probably never intended on gaining an extra limb when he took Stiles on as a freind (wich hey, isn’t necessarily a bad thing) B. Has a very … I don’t know how to say this nicely, one-sided? understanding of what it means to be in a relationship (IE: He always wanted to be the center of Stiles’ attention until Allison came along, then he wanted to be the center of ALLISON’S attention, didn’t understand why Stiles felt slighted, but STILL wanted Stiles to be at his beck and call, and it doesn’t work that way) and C. Most importantly of all, doesn’t understand that Scott doesn’t understand his condition

I have Sensory Processing Disorder, I interpert and understand things alot differently than most people do, this is an issue that comes up between my mom and I alot and a great example is- of all things, making the bed, because even KNOWING my condition, it took over ten years of me telling her “Mom, I don’t understand how to do this thing with the sheets” before she realized “Oh shit that’s part of your sensory disorder, I have to explain this to you differently”, because before that she thought I was just trying to get out of changing the sheets (to be fair, I don’t necessarily blame her, SPD is a pretty unknown thing, just like I don’t necessarily blame Scott for not understanding his freind has a legitimate mental illness when Stiles himself almost certainly wouldn’t define himself as having one)

It’s the same with Sciles, you have Stiles over here saying “Scott, please don’t do that, that makes me really upset” and Scott over here saying “But it SHOULDN’T make you upset, therefore it doesn’t :)” and Stiles going “Scott scott NO please don’T DO THAT IT MAKES ME REALLY FUCKING UPSET OF MY GOPD!!” and you end up with Stiles about to scream and Scott utterly clueless- and again, this isn’t either one of their FAULTS, it’s just how the circumstances aligned, and due to the fact that our culture treats mental illness the way Salem treated witchcraft back in the day and so, you know, most likely, Stiles doesn’t realize he has *an actual mental disorder*, and if Stiles HIMSELF doesn’t get it, you can bet your sweet tooth that SCOTT doesn’t get it, hell even I didn’t think I had a legitimate mental disorder until a few years ago and I’ve had like three of them my entire life, I probably STILL wouldn’t realize I had one if it weren’t for my mom being dilligant about researching it and we know for sure that the sheriff, you know…. isn’t like that…..

Sorry Anon, this got REALLY stupidly long, but I just wanted to add that because seriously- thank you for the addition!! You have no idea how happy it makes me to get questions and comments on this blog- especially in support of my theories

#Teen Wolf

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