#TW: Parental abuse

[hatteymcstache]

"I might get punished" || THE DARK LORDS STORY

Yeah this is a pretty heavy one 😭

Anyways, because of Gundhams past it's a part of his trauma response.

He tends to apologize even if it means he didn't do anything wrong; especially if he may get snitched on by an adult. He also tells himself not to cry as a mantra, cause he's fearful of being seen as week and doesn't want to worsen the situation.

Mahiru enabling a lot of Hiyoko's behavior has always grinded my gears; Hiyoko having a weird joy in hurting little animals??? Even more livid 8) I wanna do a followup comic for their confrontation soon!

[ohtobeleah]

Battle Scars // Bob Floyd

-> An Official Flight Deck Blurb

Summary: Robert Floyd doesn’t take his shirt off at the beach. But when the shirt stays on during sex? You start to wonder what he’s hiding.

Warnings: Mentions of parental Abuse. Mentions of Child Neglect. Foster Care Systems. Mentions of family trauma. Bob Floyd x Female!reader.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author Note: Day Nine of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: ‘Scar reveal’ Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

People have secrets they keep close to their chest. Some are small enough to not cause a ripple effect onto others, and some are big enough to destroy lives, crush dreams, alter realities. 

Bob Floyd wore his secrets across his chest. Scars that made his torso look like the Rocky Mountains. Littered with small to medium size scars that healed wrong, healed over, or healed with anger. 

They weren’t pretty. If anything he wore a roadmap of abuse on his body that was hard to face in the mirror every morning. He never wanted to subject anyone to the sight of his scars, some red and raised, others faded but turned a deep purple in the cold. 

“Mornin’ gorgeous—“ Bob's morning voice was something you’d never get tired of hearing. Those lazy Sunday mornings where you’d wake up to find the Naval Aviator already awake and reading whatever book he brought with him in his overnight bag were starting to become your favourite thing. “How’d you sleep mama?” 

“Like a log.” You yawned, creeping closer and closer to where Bob sat on the opposite side of your bed. His T-shirt clad back pressed up against the headboard while his legs stayed covered by the sheets and covers of your warm, inviting bed. “I thought I had an early body clock.” Being a single mum and small business owner left little to no time for sleep-ins, which usually meant you were up before the sun got a chance to kiss the horizon good morning. “But here you are, Mr Military Man with your internalised alarm system.” 

Bob couldn’t help but to chuckle as he closed his book and placed it on the bedside table you cleared just for him. Whatever this was between you and Robert Floyd you really liked it. He was the first man you’d ever paid attention to since your fiancé died. Bob was like a breath of fresh air and so was North Island. No one knew you, no one judged you, no one cared about the demons that haunted you. 

“Force of habit I guess.” He shrugged before he sunk lower and lower, meeting your eyeline once again as you both settled in under the warmth of the covers. “How long do you think we have before Oliver wakes up?” 

“Hmmm—“ You tried to hide your eagerness through a hum that kept your lips pressed together in a fine line. “He knows Sundays are bacon and egg roll mornings.” You began as your arms wrapped around Bob's shoulders. 

His lips were hot against the supple skin of the juncture of your neck, in response your body ignited, sending waves of energy through your body that only Bob could create. He was just different. 

“So like, five? Ten minutes maybe?” Bob looked up from where he’d been leaving small

but affectionate kisses against your collarbone and met you with a lust filled gaze. He was falling head over heels in love with you. “Because I only need like two—“ 

“Oh well in that case we have time for two rounds.” You teased before rolling yourself up and over to straddle Bob's waist. He let you easily. If he wanted to, he could have fought back. The thing with Robert Floyd was that he had a sleeper build. He wasn’t as buff as some of the other Naval Aviators that frequently stopped by the Flight Deck for their morning or mid afternoon caffeine hit. With the amount of sugar and caramel syrup you dosed Hangman with on a regular basis you weren’t entirely sure how he managed to maintain his muscle density. 

But for as much as Bob was a gentle soul, he was strong and fast. He enjoyed a long run every now and again. But for all intents and purposes—he let you be on top. He liked the view. After all, he was just a simple man. Boobs were pretty cool. Especially your boobs.

“Can I ask you a question?” You cooed all the while Bob's hands trailed up your hips. You wore nothing but one of those silk nightgowns that made you look like an angel. The bed hair was cute, Bob liked you first thing in the morning. It was a side of you only he got to see. The side before the makeup, before being put together– he liked it. The authenticity. For what it was worth, Bob just really liked you. 

“Depends what the question is?” Bob replied as his hands squeezed at your hips, rolling you gently back and forth over his boxer brief clad length. “I’m kidding, ask away.” 

He had been expecting the question sooner rather than later. And with how things were going between the two of you Bob knew he would have to come clean. He was just afraid of what you might say. What you might think, and if his scars would be a deal breaker. They were, after all, a part of him that he couldn’t get rid of. 

But even expecting the question to come didn’t make it any less hard to hear. 

“How come you never take your shirt off?” You wanted to approach the question as politely as possible. “You don’t have to tell me, if you aren’t comfortable, I just—I’ve just noticed.” You saw the hesitation in Bob's baby blue eyes as he searched your face for any kind or fear. “Again, you don’t have to tell me.” You reminded the man lying beneath you as his hands stilled on your hips. “But I want you to know that if you’re hiding some sort of third nipple under there—I’m all for it.” You tried to make the conversation a little more lighthearted, Bob could appreciate that. He smiled softly at you while his hands needed at your hips like dough. 

Bob didn’t say much after that, he simply laid beneath you stroking his hands up and down your exposed thighs as his mind ran rampant with memories. He hated his scars, but most of all he hated the people who gave them to him. 

“You’re a waste of space!” The memories were all too prominent even after all these years. “I wish I never gave birth to you!” His mothers words were as cruel as she was violent and unpredictable. 

“You’re the abortion I wish I fucking had.” The abuse Bob endured went with him everywhere, even well into his adult life. He learned not to complain, to cause a scene. “Stop crying for fucks sake kid.” He learned not to show emotion when it wasn’t asked or needed. 

“You did this to yourself, if you had stayed out of the way, none of this would be happening.” But most importantly he blamed himself, for hiding his scars that clearly showed how strong he really was. 

Bob sat up to meet your eyeline. For a man haunted by so many scars he certainly had the softest of eyes. He gently tucked your hair behind your ear and placed a fleeting kiss against your forehead, all before he reached up and over to take his shirt off over his head. 

What you saw rendered you speechless for a few moments as you took in the terrain that was your, well, you wanted to say boyfriend but Bob wasn’t even officially that, torso—littered with scars he surely would have called ugly on the best of days. 

“It’s a lot.” Bob whispered just barely above an audible level as he chucked his shirt off to the side. “But they’re not going away, ever.” It was almost as if Bob had struggled with that notion himself. He wished he could have them removed—expunge from his record. The tales of parental abuse he suffered before collecting more in the foster care system. 

“Oh Bob—“ You tentatively reach out to glide your fingers over one of the many scars that were angry, red and what seemed to be risen. “You don’t have to hide these from me, ever.” Bob's heart was racing a million miles inside his chest, no one had ever touched him the way you were now. With so much love, with kindness, with understanding. “What happened here?” Your fingers gently glided across the scar down near the waistband of Bob's boxers. Right above his hip bone. 

“One of the kids in one of the foster homes I was in.” Bob began, you could tell he was uncomfortable talking about it, but you didn’t stop him. You knew if anything he would stop if he didn’t want to talk about it. “I think his name was Ryan, had an old bow with those barbed edges on it.” You knew where the story was going. “It got wedged in there deep when we were playing around, but our foster parents didn’t have insurance, so they weren’t gonna take me to get it removed—so they ripped it out and poured bourbon over it.” Your heart sank into your stomach. “I was nine.” 

“That must have hurt a lot.” You replied gently as Bob laid back down in your bed with his hands resting behind his head. His roadmap of scars on full display. “What happened here?” You moved your hand to the longer scar across his left peck. It seemed less angry, more healed, but the story attached was just as heartbreaking. 

“When I was eighteen I went back to see my parents.” Bob's eyes were tearing up. He hadn’t ever spoken about this to anyone. Not even the people he trusted with his life. You were the only one. “It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have, but I needed some closure.” Your fingers gently ran the expanse of the scar that had never been touched but another person. Bob wanted to stop you out of fear you’d leave—but he willed you to continue because it felt comforting to be touched with such warmth. “My dad ran at me with a knife the second he saw me—I remember he was rambling on about how I broke my mum's heart when I went with CPS. I’m lucky it was only a graze, he still got me good enough to leave a scar though.” 

“Bob, honey, I don’t even know what to say.” You were a mother yourself. You couldn’t ever imagine doing anything of the sort to your son. Bob reached up to guide your hand across his torso to his wrist—you’d seen those small circle cluster scars time and time again but never bothered to ask what they were from. 

“These are from where my mum and my foster mum would put their cigarettes out on me.” Again, it made your heart sink, but Bob never faulted as he guided your hand around his body, back up to his stomach just above his belly button. Ridged abs peaked through the softness of his skin. “This one is from when I had to have surgery after I got an infection. Doctor said I could have died if my friend and I didn’t walk ourselves to the emergency room.” 

Bob wanted you to touch every last scar that littered his body, he wanted your gentle touch to heal his old wounds. So you let him guide you as your straddled his waist and looked down at the roadmap of torture. 

“These smaller ones are from when my dad swung the whipper snipper at me, I was in his way, I shouldn’t have been there, I remember they wouldn’t stop bleeding and ruined a bunch of my shirts.” 

“None of these are your fault.” All his life, until he joined the Navy and ran as far away as he could, Bob had been told every scar he collected was his fault. The abuse he suffered as a child, from his parents and in foster homes, was his fault. “Someone who loves you doesn’t do this to you.” You reminded the man who laid beneath you. He could hardly breathe with how hard his heart was hammering in his chest as your hands trailed over the expanse of his torso. “Bob I don’t know your history, but from what I can gather about you in the present you are all but the problem.” You were the first person to ever tell him he didn’t deserve the scars he wore, the scars he hid. 

“You’re a really good person, you know that right?” Flashes of your own war blinded your vision for a moment. The lies and haunting rumours that had you running as far away as possible could came flooding back to you in a blur as Bob sat up to kiss your lips softly, tenderly, and all so lovingly. “You don’t know how much you mean to me baby.” The term of endearment sent a shiver down your spine you weren’t expecting. But you welcomed it nevertheless. Bob was a dream, your new beginning. 

“I reckon you’ve got about three minutes to show me.” You teased, deciding now was not the time to bring up your dead fiancé. “With the shirt off—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

[guessillcallitart]

“Holly blue, what do you think you’re doing?” Dangerously soft. That’s how her mother’s voice usually sounded like. She was standing by the door to Reverie’s room. “Don’t call me that.” Reverie turned away and kept packing her things. “I’ll be staying at the school from now on. You can be my teacher but I don’t want you to be my mother anymore.”

“Why are you breaking my heart?” her mother asked. “You broke mine first.” A tear fell down Reverie’s cheek but her mother would never see it. “Ready?” Luz had come to pick her up on her giant crow. “Ready.” Reverie closed her trunk. “Holly.” Her mother’s voice was stern now. “Don’t call her that”, Luz warned. “Her name is Reverie.”

“I reckon dad would have liked me calling myself that.” Reverie smiled. She liked the idea of keeping her father’s memory alive.

taglist: @aloeverawrites, @your-absent-father, @yesireadbooks, @anonymousfoz, @rbbess110, @full-on-sam, @the-mindless, @the-void-writes, @aalinaaaaaa, @mr-orion, @1socially-awkard1, @oddcryptidwrites, @albatris, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

yes, Luz has a giant crow as a pet☺️ I liked them on the show Hilda-

[tinnchan]

THE GLORY (2023) - PART 2: EPISODE 14

"Dong-Eun! These people are taking me away! Say something, come on!"

[the-matron-of-ravens]

Genuinely curious, what are your thoughts on Dancer and FCG cuz like, he Literally, not figuratively, tried to kill her and did kill all of her companions at the time. I can see being critical cuz she doesn't seem to treat them like sentient beings, but even in the canon... most of the automatons aren't. Just some of the really old ones from Aeor/other old cities, right? So? She got a whoops!sentient microwave, treated them like a microwave, they killed all her friends and almost her and she's supposed to....? Be good buds with them? Also I know it's said that she trauma dumped on FCG, but let's switch it from microwave to personal journal - how would YOU feel if your personal journal popped to life and attacked you for trauma dumping? IDK haha I guess Idk you opinions and I'm just responding to my projected assumptions of your opinion. REALLY I'd 100% sincerely would like to hear your thoughts. I was really bothered by FCG pushing to meet with Dancer. Like jeez just leave her alone, you're her literal sleep paralysis demon, read the room.

Hey! Thanks for the ask, I put this a little bit in the tags but I can elaborate more here. (Edit: elaborate A LOT MORE it seems)

So here goes, I don’t know if you meant it this way but the analogy of a journal or microwave is helpful here because that’s exactly how Dancer treated FCG - as a tool to be used. But they *aren’t*. FCG is a whole being with emotions and thoughts all of which are apparent and so clearly distinct from other automatons.

So tbh, I think the perspective of “whoops! Sentient bot” makes sense for like a month, max. Not years. After all, we have seen NPC after NPC recognize FCG is a sentient being almost immediately after meeting him. I find it VERY hard to believe that Dancer never realized it herself.

Additionally, we need to step out of the plot itself and look at FCG’s mechanics. We know that every time he heals, takes damage for someone else, etc. he takes stress points, and that once past a certain threshold his switch flips and he goes full Murderbot.

We also know that rest and recovery are what reduces FCG’s stress points. So that tells us that Dancer was using and using and using FCG and not letting him rest (enough? At all?) even though he needed it. Because again he’s a person not a tool.

Even when they met back up recently and FCG sobered her up she remarked how she missed him doing that for her. And while I don’t expect her to miss him, I do think it’s indicative of her interest in him never being about him as a person but only how he could serve her.

And if we want to criticize FCG for his lack of boundaries, inability to take no for an answer and pathological need to fix Dancer sure that’s fair. He needs to unlearn a lot of that and quick. But we then have to ask ourselves where did those traits come from? They didn’t come from nowhere.

FCG is mentally extremely YOUNG. Aside from the 6?-ish Months spent with Ashton all he remembers is his time with Dancer. So, if FCG has a pathological need to fix others, to help them, and feels worthless if he’s unable to do so - that comes from how Dancer treated and trained him.

That doesn’t just go away; ESPECIALLY not when FCG doesn’t even remember going postal and doesn’t see to have the (IMO) most clear and realistic view of his and Dancer’s relationship.

After all look how he interacts with the Changebringer. She’s his surrogate Mom/Dancer. He needs someone to tell him how to feel, think, and what’s Good and Bad because he doesn’t know how to do it for himself - because he wasn’t *taught* to.

But here’s my real question. What do we call one person keeping another person in service to them, with no compensation or personhood to be had, and with no intentions of releasing that person from that service? That’s slavery my dude. AT BEST indentured servitude.

(but that implies there’s a debt. What debt? Waking him up? He didn’t ask for that; that was her choice.

And again this sounds a lot like children being “indebted” to parents for giving them life, housing, feeding, etc. )

That’s the part I can’t get over. And that’s the part I can’t get behind where FCG is the abusive one. The power differential was NEVER in FCG’s court; he never once thought of himself as a person or as anything but in service of “Soul Touched”. That complete sacrifice of yourself and your needs (or an inability to even know you HAVE needs) comes from being in relationships where those things are expected/demanded.

So, yeah, he literally tried to kill her, and I gotta be real I’m not surprised. Even children of abusive parents who they love snap sometimes. Because again, that’s mentally what he was at the time. A child.

But even then, no I don’t think it’s unreasonable or unrealistic for Dancer to be traumatized or not want to see FCG again. I don’t even think she’s wrong to say “I can’t give you closure” because closure isn’t something other people give you.

But the way she’s been discussed to be largely clueless about his sentience, blameless in his blow up, and FCG’s victim? I just can’t get behind that. Like at all.

[mouthymercx0x0]

LISTEN DEADPOOL BEING CARETAKER AFTER WILD PARTIES OR JUST BEING CARETAKER PERSON IN GENERAL FILLS ME WITH JOY.

BECAUSE NO ONE EVER TOOK CARE OF HIM SO NOW HE WANTS TO MAKE SURE OTHER GET TAKEN CARE OF.

His father left them when he was young and his mother was drunk and abusive towards him.

He feels the urge to take care of others.

[mamasplat]

Well.....you said calem's mom could be abusive. Hit us with your worst because I'm so invested in calem right now.

(This is referring to my past discussions on Calem’s parents and this post specifically)

I’ve been workshopping this idea for a while as in my read and characterizations of the kalos cast I had one important question, “why is rival Calem so shut off?”

He’s afraid and defensive with any signs of his own vulnerability, he has the pride and ego of a damp masquerain, and he’s shown to find an odd sense of solace in characters like AZ, Emma, and even Lysandre because of it.

And while it’s easy to blame it on a societal system and naturally bred misogyny from his environment that makes him such a mess emotionally, I wanted another possibility. His father who is an npc you can speak to when in snowbelle city, sings nothing but jolly high praises of the boy…so i started looking at the other veteran trainer, his mom.

(Continue on below the cut at your own discretion, I’m not talking about anything too intense or explicit, but I am talking about abusive tendencies in parental bonds.)

Calem’s mother isn’t evil, she doesn’t hate her son, but she’s the furthest thing from maternal and when his father starts traveling again there’s no one to balance out his moms more…negative behaviors.

She’s a strong battler, entitled and not accepting of anything lower. Even from her own son when he was learning to battle. From his childhood to his late teens she’s a fearsome force buzzing in his ear. Hands gripping at his chin in his moments of simple losses, nails biting into his skin, making him look her in the eye. Making him admit failure with the phrase “boys don’t cry” muttered through gritted teeth as he bites his tongue to not admit she’s hurting him. Don’t make a fool of yourself, don’t fail me, don’t ruin our happy family because you can’t counter your type disadvantage. It pushed him to get better yes, but at a cost.

He never learns that it’s okay to lose, he never learns how to lose. His first loss in years comes by the hands of Serena, it makes him feel unaccomplished and defenseless, ready to write off every excuse for his earned loss he’s caught off guard when she smiles at him and truthfully says he fought well. Words he’s never heard when on the losing end of a battle.

His mom is an entitled woman, her kindness rarely seen nor earned even by her own bloodline. Without her husband, Calem’s father, by her side to help Calem grow and mature; she guides with a hand that’s far too heavy and leaves marks and bruises in its wake. Forming a depressive insecure shut in of a son who’s only true reason for going on his journey was to meet his neighbor and perfecting his tactics.

But he’s just a boy. A human boy. A human boy who should never be punished for losing or learning. And he learns that having feelings or expressing weakness is a bad thing that will only get him chastised and punished with no good reason.

As he finds some semblance of peace and self worth on his journey in the patient hands of his friends, he finds him and his mother may never see eye to eye. As she will never admit fault for his fragile mental past nor his dependency on winning for his life to have meaning. He was a sore loser heading down a path of shame before a graceful twist of fate sent a neighbor his way perfect to patch the void his upbringing left. Even if he often finds himself relapsed into old tendencies.

His father knows his mom’s hard on him, he tries to make up for it by spoiling his son at the drop of a hat. his mom wears the pants in her relationship and it’s likely she may never change.

If you hug Calem and tell him everything is okay there’s a solid chance he will break- he always strikes me as touch staved since he refused to let anyone truly get to know him until starting his journey.

[wafflestheasianyenbear]

"The moment I was born, my fate was set in stone. I was destined for a life of solitude."

The 100 Girlfriends - Episode 3

[teamdilf]

While writing Glowing Glass, the scene where Solas points out that Iris was mostly estranged from her parents before they were murdered and that she could have spoken about the pain of that when Petra hesitated to speak of her own estranged family really drove home how often I write about difficult relationships with parents.

Then today, I saw an innocuous post on Facebook that brought me back to high school when someone spread a rumour that I was flirting with my friend’s boyfriend. It ruined our friendship and when, heartbroken, I cried to my mom about what happened, she said, “well, you do have a tendency to get flirty when you’re asking a boy for something”.

This boy bullied me terribly in elementary school. I tolerated being around him because my friend was dating him. My mom knew this.

But no, I was flirting.

It really messed me up. This is far from my only story like this.

I love my mom but my feelings about how she treated me growing up are complicated, to put it politely and I’m still taking steps to protect myself from her judgement that many people I know don’t have to take with their parents.

So yeah, I am writing from experience, though it took awhile to realize why there’s that pattern with my OCs.

[korranguyen]

Let’s talk about Azula & Ozai’s psychological abuse for a second. (Part 2)

Now, about Azula.

(Part 1 is here)

I want to start off with the last scene from the previous post, along with the assertion that Ozai’s love praise is based on the condition of doing exactly what he says, acting exactly how he wants her to act, and embodying what he wants accomplished.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to your mother?”

This scene occurs simultaneously with another scene, where Azula employs the exact same kind of emotional blackmail to get Sokka and the rest of the Gang where she wants them to be. (Ironically, away from her father to protect him)

“Where. Is. Suki?!” *

*(not written verbatim to the script, I didn’t copy this part down)

To me, the purpose of this sequencing is to tell us that Azula is 100% parroting her father’s behavior.

Has she seen him do this before? Has he done this to her? We’re not quite sure, but we definitely see where she gets this mentality from:

AZULA: Well, what choice do I have?! Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way.

In the past, I have hypothesized that Azula’s behavior could be the result of a genetic personality disorder (likely conduct disorder/CD) that was ignored in light of the success her resulting voracity brought her. (Sidenote: I strongly disagree with any schizophrenia diagnosis because of the age of onset & a distinct lack of any characteristic schizophrenia symptoms outside of her psychosis—but that’s not what this post is about). But between this post and what’s in the scripts, I’m inclined to avoid pathologizing her behavior because she is acting exactly how she has been conditioned to act.

First of all, she obeys her social norms she has been taught to a tee (at least the social norms of the Royal Palace, lol) and doesn’t have a problem handling authority or impulse: both things she would likely have a problem with if she did have CD. If anything, it’s Zuko who struggles to do these things (which is another topic for another time).

Yes—she has a marked lack of empathy, shows a disregard for others’ well being, and is extremely threatening and manipulative for anyone her age. But her father encourages thinking of others in this way, encourages treating others this way, and provides a bounty of direct examples on how to manipulate others.

Yes—she treats her brother and uncle like shit, but you know who inundates her with commentary about them as though they are shit? Her father.

Yes—she is an active colonizer and conqueror (unlike her brother), and seems to find satisfaction in these exploits. She single-handedly strategized how to overtake Ba Sing Se on her own, and she spearheaded the Omashu resistance, usurped control over the loosening stronghold from Mai’s father, and renamed the city in her father’s honor. But does she take joy from conquering land because she enjoys it, or because she knows it’s news she can report back to her father and win a helping of praise?

Both are possibilities that are not mutually exclusive, but we know for a fact Ozai praises over this kind of thing. He mentions it in his reunion with Zuko:

FIRELORD OZAI: I am proud of you, Prince Zuko. I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se.

Zuko beams with happiness.

This expression is different from what we see onscreen at this moment, which is restraint mixed with fear (and I’m personally glad it was changed because that reaction would've been OOC at this point), but I wanted to share the WGAW script here. Because in order for the writers—in this case, Aaron Ehasz—to envision Zuko beaming with happiness when his father praises him for conquering Ba Sing Se, that signifies that that kind of pride and reward must mean a hell of a lot to the kids. And we see how this could quickly turn into anticipatory satisfaction every time Azula finds a new region to dominate. Like a Pavlovian dog.

Also... Azula literally named Omashu “New Ozai” to honor her father. If you really needed to hear her need to impress her father ooze at the seams of her accomplishments.

On a sidenote, the perfectionism that dominates Azula’s personality right up to her downfall? Also 100% a trauma response.

I’m not saying that all of the malevolent things she has done throughout the series must have been either an attempt to please her father or a result of his bad parenting. But we should acknowledge the possibility that these could be workable reasons for a huge chunk of her role as an antagonist.

So, if the Azula we know for most of the show is the one who’s desperately trying to pretty herself up to her father just as much as Zuko was in Season 1, then who is the Azula beneath all this?

While I’m generally critical of The Beach and the quality of its writing (it is the only episode written by the WA—and I’m happy that she was able to shoot her shot at an entire episode regardless), I appreciate that it gives us an opportunity to see how Azula treats Zuko when their father’s approval isn’t on the line.

The siblings are sent off from the Fire Nation palace so their father can plan his nefarious bullshit on his own. Now that they’re both shut away from their father’s shadow, they have a brief chance to (unsuccessfully) integrate into a normal teenage society, and behave as normal teenage siblings would to each other. And although the way she perceives Zuko as “pathetic” doesn’t go magically away, Azula is genuinely sympathetic towards Zuko—perhaps even moreso than Mai when he shared similar concerns about change with her only four episodes before. For all their time apart, Azula knows exactly where to find Zuko, and even shares a moment of mutual recognition with him on how much their environment has been poisoned.

AZULA: Come on. Come down to the beach with me. This place is depressing.

To add onto this, the WGAW script for The Beach indicates that Azula was sincerely mystified to hear that Zuko was angrier than ever. Not prodding, not malicious... just curious.

AZULA: (sincerely mystified) Why?

So... How much is Azula being Evil, or Mentally Ill (which needs to stop being conflated with violent) —and how much of it is a fourteen year old kid simply trying to keep up an image to her father and fearing the slandered fate of her older brother like the Plague?

We never know, because Bryke doesn’t give a shit about these questions.

Just to clarify, I’m not writing all this to absolve Azula of her actions. She has hurt a lot of people, and the fact she was an abuse victim or conditioned to behave this way doesn’t change the impact it had on others—just like Zuko only being interested in the Avatar didn’t change the fact he burned Suki’s village. I just want to point out why writing in a fourteen-year-old, troubled, abused child like this

AZULA: (SPINE-TINGLING, MADWOMAN’S LAUGH)

and this

As Katara and Zuko watch with pained faces, Azula finally snaps, going from feral animal to bumbling crazy person.

(again, emphasis is mine)

is absolutely fucking unacceptable and a disservice to her character. And honestly speaks a lot for Bryke’s misogyny throughout and beyond the Avatar world.

[kawaiisimp]

Neige LeBlanche headcanons bc I know nothing about him and this is how I see him. I literally made up a back story for him bc we don't have one. None of this is true except for like two things I got from a twst wiki. Also warnings: these headcanons involve Neige having terrible parents (nothing is described in detail, I just say they're bad) and Niege gets in his feels. I tagged it anyways tho. This is long as hell tho, sorry guys...

His voice is high pitched, but it's actually much deeper. He just fakes how high it bc someone in the industry told him he sounded similar to Vil and his natural voice doesn't match his "cute vibe" his fans love (he rolls with it bc he doesn't want to disappoint fans).

He had a rough childhood and his parents weren't ever in the picture and were extremely neglectful, so his grandma fought for custody of him to give him a good life

Neige was inspired to act for two reasons 1. He used to watch black and white movie with his grandma and wanted to be as fabulous, sweet, and cute as the actresses and 2. He watched Vil act during a school play (found out from the wiki he saw Vil act in a school play) and was moved by Vil's passion and amazing acting skills.

He went to the same school as Vil (a fine arts school bc I said so!) And his grandma fought tooth and nail to get him accepted and afford for him to go

He was discovered at one of his school plays and his career took off from there

He sends most of his money to his grandma. Not for her to put into a savings account for him, but for her to spend and use.

Back to his bad parents, when Neige started making money his parents suddenly loved him so much and wanted to make things right with their son. Grandma wasn't having it and didn't allow contact. Lawyers were involved.

His grandma made the sweater vest under his school uniform

He has a million other sweaters and sweater vests made by his grandma. They all look similar to the vest we see him wear, but with different colors and various forest animals.

His grandma also embroidered the "one day my Princess will come..." we see on his hat. It's a reference to his favorite black and white romance movie (I know what it's actually referencing but in my heart it's this!)

He gets swindled and used constantly. Che'nya caught on to this and their friendship started out with him messing with Neige, but turned into an actual friendship when he realized how much people were using Neige for their own gain.

Che'nya is one of his few actual friends and has been helping him feel less guilty about saying no and standing up for himself.

He has piercings.

Che'nya gave them to him over a month, IN CHE'NYA'S DORM, USING PIERCING NEEDLES FROM AMAZON, RUBBING ALCOHOL, AND A LIGHTER! (don't do this at home kids).

Neige freaked out for every. Single. Piercing. And had a melt down every. Single. Time the needle TOUCHED his skin. He went back to smiling and raving about about cute they were after the piercings were in.

He has two piercings on his left ear (lobe), three on his right (lobe and tragus), a septum, a smiley piercing, and an eyebrow ring.

He uses dermaflage for his of "non-conventional" piercings, but takes out his smiley piercing and flips his septum piercing inside of his nose or takes it out for modeling, acting, etc.

His agent, manager, stylist, teachers, etc all went insane Neige showed up with piercing in his face after a sleepover with a "friend" (Che'nya he's not a snitch tho and didn't want to loose one of his three real friends)

Che'nya convinced him to do it bc Neige revealed he felt like He was "loosing himself, and wasn't sure if he had a personality beyond what those controlling his career said he was and could like."

Neige has always looked up to Vil for being stunning, fabulous, professional, confident, passionate, and an amazing actor. He wishes just just once he could be the Villain and not the hero or damsel in distress.

He does Magicam lives all the time. More than his manager and etc. recommends bc he just really loves interacting with his fans

He also reads and keeps, most if not everything, his fans send him.

He ruined Che'nya's hair on a Magicam live once with a hair dye brand deal. He watched in horror as he washed Che'nya's hair out after 5 minutes of the bleach sitting (Che'nya said it was burning).

His eyes then went wide and started crying because he "ruined Che'nya's hair" when Che'nya's hair started melting off.

Che'nya was laughing his butt off while Neige sobbed in the background. (He's ruined his own hair before so his hair melting off is not a new event for him).

This event was memed for nearly 6 months before everyone moved on bc another influencer fricked up.

Neige thinks he's bad at attracting a partner, but in reality he's just oblivious to flirting and people showing a romantic interest

Rook low-key creeps him out but he's not going to say anything bc "He's just a fan!"

He wears makeup bc he wants to be like Vil, not because he needs to.

Even though he has a phone, he writes his grandma letters instead of texting her. He also calls her every chance he gets. He also sends her gifts for every holiday he's not home for.

He listens to indie and rock music with Che'nya and finds himself listening to it when he's away from him bc it's his friend's favorite music genres <3

He works out for the sole purpose to one day be able to carry his future s/o like a princess

In conclusion, I like Neige fr fr and I wish we had more info on him. He's also a sweet boi <3

[shion-yu]

Ears Ringing

Cliff can't afford his meds and can't keep anything down anymore. My fill for my @badthingshappenbingo space "Ears Ringing." OC work, 2,816 words. TWs parental abuse, emeto, chronic illness whump, detailed hospital descriptions.

For years now. Cliff's neurological symptoms have been all over the place. Sometimes he's eloquent and polite, echoes of his former brilliance shining through. Other times he can't remember the names of simple objects or can't stop crying. Sometimes he walks fine, and then the next day he needs his wheelchair. It's inconsistent, frustratingly so, and Cliff can't stand it.

He's depressed. He knows he's depressed, but he can't do anything about it because he's already taking antidepressants and he's scared if he says anything they'll stick him in the psych ward. Phoenix always used to tell him he was crazy, and Cliff worries he is. He sees shadows in the corners of his eyes all the time and hears people in the apartment that aren't there. One time Elliot catches him with a knife in his hand in the middle of the night hunting for some unknown threat. It's bad, really bad. He's never hallucinated before but he is now nearly every day. It’s getting increasingly difficult for him to tell the difference between what’s real and what’s not.

Bothering other people with his problems is the last thing Cliff wants to do. Elliot's busy writing his album with Alex, Moira’s got her baby and Matt’s in law school. So Cliff's alone a lot of the time, which he doesn’t really mind but sometimes it’s easier for him to pretend everything is fine when he has someone else to pretend for. He dropped out of law school a year ago and he still hasn't figured out an alternative career path. He tutors people online to take the LSAT, which is enough to pay the rent on his tiny condemned apartment, but that's all. He can't take Elliot out and treat him because it seems his parents have washed their hands of him and he can barely keep up with the copays on all his medications. His parents haven't officially disowned him - yet - but when they found out he dropped out of law school they stopped sending him monthly support checks. 

Cliff's started halving his pills to make them last longer, and the first to go completely are the antidepressants and anxiety meds. After that he cuts out the ones that he knows don't necessarily keep him alive, just feeling better: the antiemetics and pain medications. Eventually all the ones that were giving him any sort of quality of life are gone, but he's still sort of okay until he starts running out of his steroids: it's when he starts halving his prednisone that the hallucinations begin.

He's spending more days in bed feeling sick than not at this point. He doesn't leave the apartment and Elliot seems to be getting increasingly worried despite Cliff's best efforts to put on a good show. He's losing weight by the day and he's vomiting nearly everything he eats up. Elliot tries to coax food into him but it's not working. Even Cliff's favorite Japanese and Chinese comfort foods cause him misery, so it's certainly not a matter of taste. At least he saves money not having to buy groceries. 

Cliff had promised Elliot that he'd never hide this stuff from him again back when they broke up. So he doesn't hide it and he never lies, but he tries to sound casual when he answers like it's not a big deal. If Elliot asks, Cliff admits that he's not feeling well, or that he's nauseous. Elliot starts keeping a journal of Cliff's intake and instances of vomiting, then realizes there's no way Cliff's actually retaining any nutrients. He makes Cliff an appointment with a GI specialist, but the wait is four months out. Elliot is worried Cliff can't wait that long and tries to convince Cliff to go to the emergency room, or at least tell his father and see if he'll order some tests, but Cliff refuses. He promised to communicate with Elliot, not anyone else. Lucky for Cliff, Elliot never seems to think to ask him about bills or voices that aren't there. And his dad is drinking again, so Cliff doesn’t bother talking to him.

It comes to a head when Elliot can't get a hold of Cliff. Their relationship is still young despite all of their history, it feels fragile, and Cliff isn't answering his phone. Elliot worries Cliff's withdrawing and doesn't really want to be in a relationship, but he can't bring himself to think that's true so easily. So he breaks into Cliff's apartment for answers and finds Cliff passed out on the bathroom floor soaked in piss and vomit. He doesn’t respond when Elliot shakes him and shouts his name, but at least he’s breathing. Elliot calls 911.

Cliff doesn't wake up on the ambulance ride to the hospital. Elliot's glad for that because he doesn't want how scared he feels to come out as anger. The scene is eerily familiar to how Elliot had found Cliff on the floor of their dorm room all those years ago, but Elliot tells himself it's not the same. He'll at least give Cliff the chance to explain why it isn't. Still, why hadn't Cliff told him how much he was struggling? He could have reached out and Elliot would have been over there to take care of him in a heartbeat.

"I didn't want you to worry," Cliff mumbled when he wakes up, before lurching forward and dry heaving into the emesis basin Elliot's holding. He has a high fever and Elliot thinks now's not the time to yell at him for being foolish. "I really thought I could manage," Cliff says through a single sob. Elliot's heart clenches in pity. Cliff's never known how to rely on other people thanks to his parents. Elliot wants Cliff to rely on him, but it's not something he can force. 

The doctors come in and ask if Cliff's been taking his medications as prescribed, especially the steroids. Their expressions are almost accusatory and Elliot doesn't understand why until Cliff looks down, face clearly ashamed. "Cliff, why not? Do you want to die?" Elliot asks, aghast.

His heart breaks when he hears Cliff whisper in the tiniest voice, "I couldn't afford them anymore." Elliot's still upset and worried, but suddenly he understands. Cliff starts crying; Elliot holds him close and tells him it's going to be alright, that they'll figure it out. He'll help Cliff pay for his meds as much as he can. When Shu comes by with food for Elliot he offers to let Cliff live with him for a while, in Alex's old bedroom. There's options. But right now, Cliff needs to focus on getting better.

The doctors tell them that Cliff's body went into shock from stopping his prednisone too quickly. He's lucky he's not in a coma. Not only that, but the granulomas on his lungs have grown and he has new ones on his brain. Does he have headaches, they ask him? Fatigue? Hallucinations? Cliff can't bring himself to look up as he answers yes to all of them. Has he ever fainted? Had a seizure? Cliff looks at Elliot for just a second, chest burning with shame. "I think I had one before Elliot found me."

After the doctors leave, grim faced and what Cliff feels is painfully judgemental, Elliot rubs Cliff’s back as Cliff begins to gasp for air and tears stream down his face. Elliot knows Cliff’s having a panic attack and tries to get him through it. “It’s gonna be okay, Cliffy,” he says sadly. “Talk to me.”

“I never lied to you, I swear,” Cliff says. Elliot feels his own eyes fill with tears.

“I know, shh,” Elliot soothes. “I wish you would have told me, but I know you didn’t lie. You’re going to get better and this is never gonna happen again.” Cliff just cries harder until he vomits. Elliot helps him shower while the nurse changes the sheets; it’s not how he had imagined their first time showering together after getting back together might go, but he’d rather be here than Cliff be alone right now.

Cliff's woefully underweight. His nausea is so bad that he can’t keep any oral medications down, either. They force an NG tube into him, which is one of the worst things Elliot's ever witnessed. He has to stand in the hall after the first failed attempt because it's so disturbing. It looks more like torture than treatment. Eventually they get it in and start the tube feeding, but the response isn't what’s expected. They haven't even brought it up to goal rate when Cliff begins projectile vomiting the tube feed all over like the fucking exorcist. The vomit makes him choke and he coughs the NG up less than twenty-four hours after they managed to get it down. Elliot holds him while he sobs and apologizes over and over. 

"I'm sorry," he cries, "I tried to keep it down, I really did." He's distraught and Elliot does his best to comfort Cliff, but he feels like there's so little he can do. He’s never seen Cliff cry this much and it’s breaking his heart.

As a result of the failed feeding tube, Cliff gets more tests and is diagnosed with gastroparesis: paralysis of the stomach. It could be temporary or it could be forever, they say. There's no way of knowing right now, but it explains why he hasn't been able to keep food down for a while. He needs a J-tube that will bypass his stomach to give him nutrition, and he gets that surgery two days later. 

The pain is unbearable. It takes days to get it under control despite finding no issues with the actual J-tube placement. Some people are just very sensitive to surgical pain and Cliff is unlucky enough to be one of them. He's so beat down by then that he just lies in bed clutching a pillow to his abdomen and sobs openly. Nothing really comforts him and Elliot doesn't know what to do. This is scary and he feels like he can't handle it on his own. Milo and his mom give him some support, but it's weird when neither of them are fans of Cliff to begin with. Shu and Alex come by to give Elliot a break sometimes. They sit with Cliff while Elliot takes a much needed rest at home where he can shower and scream in frustration a few times. 

It feels like whenever things start getting better for Cliff, some new aspect of his illness appears and they start over from the beginning. Elliot carries a certain level of regret that he wasn't there when Cliff was first diagnosed. Maybe if he was, he could have fought for Cliff to get diagnosed sooner. Maybe he could have protected Cliff from his father more. He tries to now, when Dr. Barrows comes not to help but to yell at Cliff for being so stupid as to stop taking his steroids. "Were you trying to kill yourself?" He snarls at Cliff, who shrinks back and can't answer. "Are you trying to humiliate me?" 

"Maybe if you guys spent just a tiny bit of your fortune on keeping your own freaking son alive, he wouldn't have to ration out his meds," Elliot spits at him. He doesn't care that Cliff's father is a famous surgeon. He's left his only son to struggle all by himself because of circumstances Cliff can't control, and so to Elliot he's the shittiest quack out there. 

"I don't remember Cliff ever asking us for help," Dr. Barrows points out coolly. Elliot can't argue with that. He doesn't know for sure, but it certainly wouldn’t surprise him if Cliff hadn't said anything to his parents. Even if they would have helped, who could blame Cliff when this was his dad? "And who the hell are you?"

"He's my boyfriend," Cliff says weakly. Something inside of Elliot is mended then. Cliff, who was once too scared to tell even a random passerby that they were together, is telling his father. Then, another piece of Elliot breaks when he watches Dr. Barrows cuff the side of Cliff's head with such force that Cliff's oxygen falls off. 

Cliff yelps in pain and grips his ear in shock, ears ringing. Elliot's horrified and frozen. Who the hell hits their own son while they're in a hospital bed? The pungent smell of whiskey probably has something to do with it. "You are not my son," he hisses venomously, then leaves. His hatred lingers in the air just as strong as the smell of booze. 

"Sorry," Cliff says after several seconds of awkward silence, breaking the spell. 

Elliot shakes his head as he jolts back to reality and rushes to Cliff's side, looping Cliff's oxygen back over his ears. He hugs Cliff close, shaking with anger. "There's no reason to be sorry," he insists. "The only person who should be sorry is your dad for being such a shitty person." Cliff flinches at Elliot's strong reaction, but he knows it's not directed towards him.

“Yeah,” Cliff says uncomfortably. “I guess. Thanks.”

It takes two weeks, but eventually Cliff is discharged: into the care of Elliot and the home of Shu, because the social worker says it’s not a very safe idea for him to live alone. Cliff hates feeling like he requires a round the clock babysitter, but he knows they’re right. He can’t walk more than a few steps and that’s with a walker, he’s not steady enough to use his crutches right now. Cliff promises he’ll keep quiet and not cause any problems, but Shu tells him that he should make himself feel at home. It’s a small two bedroom and Shu can’t help much monetarily, but he promises a safe and comfortable place where there’s always enough food on the table (figuratively, since Cliff doesn’t eat anymore). It’s what he promised Alex when he adopted him, Shu says, and he can promise Cliff that too now.

No matter how much he dislikes needing the help, being in Shu’s home makes a world of difference. It’s warm and homey there and Cliff likes how he can see into the backyard from the kitchen table. There’s a bird feeder and a swingset back there, which Shu says was from the prior owner but he never removed because he had wanted kids someday. Alex was twelve when he came to live with Shu, so a bit old for it, but Cliff imagines him there anyways. Elliot and Alex are around all the time since Shu’s garage doubles as their music studio, and sometimes Cliff bundles under blankets and watches them practice. Sometimes Alex’s boyfriend Ryo is there and he watches too. Elliot drives Cliff back and forth to doctors appointments, PT and OT in the same old car they used to have so much fun in back in college. He finds every co-pay assistance program available for Cliff to utilize, but then money starts appearing in Cliff’s bank account again every month from his parents. Elliot thinks maybe his words couldn’t do much, but they apparently did something. Well, his words combined with Moira giving their father absolute hell when she found out what happened.

It’ll be Christmas soon. There’s snow on the ground and the cardinals that visit Shu’s bird feeder look so lovely and bold against the white. Cliff’s sitting in Shu’s kitchen watching them as Elliot brews tea. “Can I tell you something?” Cliff says.

“Of course. Anything,” Elliot says, carrying a steaming mug over and placing it on the kitchen table. He sits next to Cliff and leans his cheek in his hand. His green eyes are so lovely, Cliff thinks to himself. 

“I miss living together,” Cliff admits. Elliot looks surprised, but then nods.

“I miss it too.”

“Living here reminds me of when we visited that cabin upstate, all the way back in freshman year,” Cliff says. “That was the best vacation ever.”

“Seriously?” Elliot asks, smirking a little. “Even though we both had terrible head colds and spent the entire weekend in bed?”

“Yeah,” Cliff said, smiling fondly. “It felt like a real home, for the first time in my life.”

Elliot stands and hugs Cliff, planting a kiss on his temple. “I’m not sure when we’ll move in together, but we can definitely go on vacation again,” he says honestly. He doesn’t want to rush things this time, like he felt like they had the first time around. 

Cliff nods. “I’d like that.”

Elliot rests the side of his head against the top of Cliff’s head. “You keep getting better and then we can go, deal? Maybe sometime after Christmas.” Cliff hums easily in agreement. He’ll keep working hard to get stronger so they can do the fun stuff they used to do together as soon as possible.

[eatanorange]

Black brothers angst will always get to me bc my sister and I are them we’re not them but we are and I’m younger and I think I’m Sirius and she’s Regulus in her rigidity and conformity but she’s Sirius with the way she’d yell at our parents for upsetting me and letting me hide and letting me close off and learn what not to do when she would get kicked out of our house but now she’s trying to amend with our parents without holding them accountable meanwhile I am civil but no where near any semblance of belief that they could form a definition of respect that doesn’t hinge on the authority they hold over others and that drives us apart but it drives us together because now we’re adults (barely, in our 20s) and treating us like children who deserve no regard other than as property becomes more ridiculous as more assets are gained in our own names.

[notefinal]

west side story muse headcanons

families

riff’s real name is rolf wilhelm lautmann. he never uses it. the only ones who know it are riff and his parents. he’s the only child of helene and wilhelm lautmann. helene had a difficult time during her pregnancy and giving birth to him nearly killed her. both helene and wilhelm hate riff for nearly killing his mother. wilhelm is physically and emotionally abusive. riff has scars on his torso and waist from his father’s belt, but his most noticeable scar is the one just under his left eye. he broke a vase when he was eight and wilhelm hit him hard enough that he fell into the broken vase. his parents refused to take him to the hospital, so riff was forced to take care of the wound himself. neither helene nor wilhelm are faithful to each other, but neither of them have ever brought anyone home. helene is drunk or high more often than she’s sober, and she constantly berates riff for being a disappointment. wilhelm also tends to be drunk more often than he’s sober.

balkan’s real name is bernard gordon edwards. he is the third and youngest child in the edwards family. his parents, james thomas edwards i and genevieve evelyn edwards (née peterson), are incredibly rich. his siblings, francesca jacqueline edwards and james thomas edwards ii, both loathe him simply because their parents do. balkan wasn’t a planned child, nor was he really wanted. james and genevieve only wanted two children, but balkan was born two years after james and four years after francesca. he met tony and riff when he was fifteen, but he never hung out with them very much until his parents kicked him out. they didn’t want any of their children associating with ruffians and hooligans, and since they’d never wanted balkan in the first place, it was an easy decision to make. balkan was kicked out on his seventeenth birthday and he’s been running with the jets ever since.

tony’s real name is anton wyzek, but everybody just calls him tony. he is elzbieta wyzek’s only child. she got pregnant out of wedlock at eighteen years old and her parents disowned her. tony’s father, casimir bachurski, left her when she got disowned. she never mentions him and she probably never will. tony loves his mother immensely and he refuses to hear a bad word against her. elzbieta works three jobs to keep her and tony (and later, riff) fed and clothed and in a house. she is incredibly proud of her son and tony is equally proud of her, although sometimes he wishes she’d like his friends more. when he goes to jail, he writes to his mother every day. he never receives a response. he’s told that she passed away a month after his arrest. the months after tony returns home are tough, but he keeps his head down and takes the job that valentina offers him.

the jets

the jets were formed when tony and riff were fourteen. it was tony’s idea and riff went along with it because he always went along with tony’s ideas. and it wasn’t a bad idea, either. the gang was small at first, but it eventually grew to include fifteen boys (and eventually, their girlfriends) that would defend each other until their dying breath. the jets’ territory is the docks and the surrounding area that tony and riff fight on during cool. when tony goes to jail, riff steps up as leader. he appoints ice and action as his second and third. there aren’t a lot of rules in the jets, but the biggest two are no hurting women and no hurting children. it doesn’t matter who they are, if one of the jets hurts a girl or a kid, they’re in trouble.

miscellaneous

riff ran away when he was twelve. he was planning to go to the train station to get away from new york, but he had to hide from the police. he hid in the dumpster outside the apartment building the wyzek’s lived in, and tony found him when he took the trash out. when tony asked riff what his name was, he misheard “rolf lautmann” as “riff lorton.” riff didn’t bother correcting him, and he’s been riff lorton ever since.

riff’s favorite brand of cigarettes are whichever’s the cheapest. tony likes camels and balkan likes chesterfield. riff doesn’t smoke too much because the smell reminds him of his parents, but he’s trying to get over that.

riff has three tattoos. one is the word “happy” on his left shoulder that he got because tony dared him to get a tattoo when they were sixteen. the second is the silhouette of a plane on his right shoulder (all the jets have this tattoo somewhere on their upper body. tony’s is on his left shoulder and balkan’s is on his right forearm) and the third is a bouquet of hydrangeas and roses that he got for graziella. he wanted to get it colored in, but it was too expensive.

riff’s bracelet was a sixteenth birthday gift from tony’s mother. he hasn’t taken it off since he got it.

in his modern verse, tony grows up to be a doctor.

riff doesn’t like thunderstorms.

riff can speak german fluently. his parents would only speak german around the house and he learned english from tony and his mother. he knows some conversational polish, but he doesn’t know enough to consider himself fluent in it. he doesn’t speak german much (he hates the language and his heritage) but he still knows how to speak it, much to his dismay.

riff doesn’t like the smell of spray paint.

riff stopped going to school when he was fourteen. mrs wyzek kept trying to make him go, but he kept skipping, so she gave up. he didn’t like school very much, because he couldn’t sit still enough for the teachers and he doesn’t like being told what to do by people that aren’t his friends.

riff’s parents would often demand that he do things (take out the trash, clean his room, etc) immediately, and riff never would, so he’d get punished for it. it was a vicious cycle and riff absolutely hates getting told what to do because of it.

riff, balkan and tony all get fidgety when they’re nervous. riff plays with his bracelet, balkan flips his coin around and tony paces. riff will also fidget with his fingers.

riff didn’t trust elzbieta for years after he moved in with her and tony. she was too nice and he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. he didn’t understand why she didn’t get mad at him for refusing to take the trash out or clean his room or wash the dishes. he also didn’t understand why she never hit him when he did something wrong. (he knows that hitting kids is wrong, but it had been his normal for so long that he just assumed every parent did it.)

consent is a huge thing for riff, not just with sex related things. he absolutely hates being forced to do things. he needs to have the choice to say no to whatever is happening to him or is being presented to him, and if he doesn’t, he gets angry.

when riff gets angry, he makes himself as big as he can and he gets very loud. it’s what his dad used to do to him, and if riff got scared by it, that means other people will get scared by it. sometimes he’ll shut down if he’s really, incredibly angry. he’ll go quiet and just sort of stare vacantly at the person he’s talking to. tony and balkan tend to get quiet when they get angry.

riff doesn’t like anything that reminds him of his parents. if he gets called rolf, he will freeze up. he doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes or beer (but he’s working on that) and he cannot stand the smell of marijuana. he also doesn’t like sudden movements or sudden loud noises. he’s working on getting used to them, but he will probably flinch if there’s a loud noise or if someone moves too quickly around him. if someone that he doesn’t know goes to touch him, he moves away. he doesn’t like being touched by strangers unless he’s the one doing the touching, because then he can control the interaction.

riff’s cocky jet leader persona is a front that he constructed over the years of him meeting tony and forming the jets. he perfected it when tony went to jail and he always has it up. he doesn’t trust himself to take it down, and it’s less easy to get hurt if no one can get to the real him.

riff doesn’t like seeing blood on his clothes. he’s fine if it’s other people’s blood, but he doesn’t like seeing his own blood on his clothes. if he can wash whatever got blood on it, he will, but otherwise he’s going to throw it away.

when tony gets arrested, riff stops going by mrs wyzek’s place. he stopped living there at fourteen, but he still came by for dinner and to see her. he blames himself for her death. she’d passed in her sleep, but he still thinks if he would’ve been there, he could’ve done something.

riff has lived on the streets for four years (fourteen - eighteen) by the time the events of west side story happen. he sleeps on benches or in alleys. sometimes he’ll crash at valentina’s or mrs wyzek’s, but that’s rare.

riff absolutely hates getting charity from people. his definition of charity is loose, but it boils down to money, food, and a place to sleep. sometimes it also extends to clothes, but he’s very very picky about accepting what he deems to be charity from people. he doesn’t want them pitying him, so most of the time he doesn’t take whatever is they’re offering and he insists he’s fine.

before he went to jail, tony would get loud when he got angry, but after he got out, he went quiet. he doesn’t want to lose control of his temper ever again, and he’s working on making sure he doesn’t and that he knows what to do if or when he does.

balkan is an avid reader and will constantly steal magazines and newspapers from valentina’s store to keep up with the latest news and trends. he’s probably the only jet that actually cares what’s going on in the newspapers and on the news.

[twistmusings]

How do you think the convo between riddle and his mother went when he went back home for the winter holidays? Would he be able to explain that his overblot was due to his obsession with rules that she instilled in him? How he is trying to relax his grip on them, even just a smidge, for his own health. We never got a hint on how it went, and with your impeccable writing on the king leona post, i want to hear your thoughts on this ❤️

Oooh. This is a good one. Hopefully I can do it justice.

The conversation between Riddle and his Mother.

TW: Manipulation and Gaslighting, unhealthy relationships with parents, emotional abuse, mental illness. No joke this is kind of a depressing one, just as a warning.

I don't want to beat around the bush when I say this, but it didn't go well. In fact it was arguably the worst thing Riddle has ever gone through with his mom, and it got heavy very quickly. To be entirely 100% honest, I think this is likely the situation that was the straw the broke the camel's back for Riddle.

Of course Riddle's mother heard about his overblot. The school couldn't just hide it from her, even if they wanted to, so why Riddle was dreading going home for winter break was because he knew what was probably going to happen as soon as he got home.

Unfortunately for him, he was right. The moment he stepped out of the other side of the mirror and back into the Queendom of Roses, his mother didn't even greet him. He could already tell she was furious with him without any words ever passing between them.

The moment they got into the car to drive the rest of the way home, the first words out of her mouth were "I hope you know how disappointed in you I am." Riddle wanted to cry, a bit, hearing that, but he knew crying would only make it worse. The rest of the car ride was in silence, and the entire time the sick feeling in his stomach just kept getting worse.

He could judge from her tone when she told him to grab his bags and how quickly she hustled him into the house that it was going to be worse than he thought.

It begins immediately as soon as the door closes. About how she expected him to have better control over himself, about how embarrassing it was to explain to their neighbors that her only son had overblotted and nearly cause the death of the other students. About how she has spent his entire like trying to raise him to be better than this and he's throwing all of his chances away doing things like this. It is not a conversation, it's a lecture.

Finally, when she demands he explain himself, Riddle is welling with fury and sadness and exhaustion at being talked to like this. He doesn't hold back any punches, either, when he tells her outright that he thinks that her overbearing and constant demands of him are what made him overblot in the first place. He doesn't get the chance to explain why he thinks that, because his mother immediately rises to meet his energy and starts speaking over him.

"You think that I'm the reason that this happened? After everything I gave up for you? After trying to raise you the right way? I have always done what I think is right for you to help you succeed in life. You're acting like an entitled brat right now and you know I've never done anything but what I think is the best for my only son."

Riddle might try to argue with her about it, but his mother doesn't hear him. She might hear his words but she doesn't put any weight into them because in her mind she's always right and Riddle is the one who caused her this shame. In her mind, Riddle did this to himself: he went off to Night Raven College and being free from under her wing he got reckless and wasn't well disciplined enough to stop himself from getting hurt just like she had warned him that he would. Her mind is already made up, and she is the sort of person who can never be wrong. It wouldn't matter what Riddle said, it could have been literally anything, because she has already decided that she is right and has the image firmly in her mind of how exactly it happened.

It turns into another lecture, really. A long one, about him being unappreciative and how he's spoiled and had everything he could ever have wanted in life handed to him on a silver platter by mother dearest. How now that he's off on his own he's made decisions to hang out with these people who were bad influences on him and how he cannot be trusted to do things on his own. How he 'violated' her trust and how his leash while he's at home will be even tighter now. At a point, Riddle really just stops listening and lets it happen, standing there in silence and feeling like he's floating three feet away from his own body.

When finally it ends and she's done thoroughly demonstrating her disappointment and mistrust of her own son, she says "Go unpack your things. I'll be up in one hour to get you so we can do your winter homework before dinner."

And so Riddle does go to his room. The feeling of floating out of himself hasn't gone away. He briefly considers leaving-- of going to Trey's house and asking if he can just stay. He crushes it soon after, though-- he knows his mother too well. Knows she would get the police involved to find him and that it would only bring Trey's family trouble. He can't do that to them-- not to Trey's parents or siblings, and not to Trey either. Leaving would only make it worse when he gets back.

He ends up sitting on his bed and trying to unpack but finding himself unable to make himself function. His limbs feel like they're made of lead.

He can't get the idea of Trey and his family out of his mind. He's heard stories about his parents and his siblings. Heard how they go home over winter break and he helps in the bakery and helps take care of the younger kids. How his parents still all make a dinner and sit down to have dinner at the end of the day. How they look after each other and help each other every day.

It's the realization that they must know how it feels to be loved unconditionally that makes him snap and he starts to cry. The realization that his mother only loves him when he's playing the part that she wants him to play and if he doesn't want to be that, then there will be consequences.

And, while he's sitting there, sobbing uncontrollably into the sleeves of his sweater, he resolves that the moment he's able to, he's going to get away from that cycle. Having realized that this is not how a family is supposed to feel, he realizes that he's not going to get the support he wants here. Not in this lifetime. His mother won't hear reason, and she's going to keep pushing him to be something that he isn't. Riddle can't be that. Not unless he wants to become a monster again-- not unless he wants to live with the weight of the world on his shoulders until he snaps again. Not unless he wants to snap again and risk someone getting hurt. He still remembers the terrifying rage he felt-- has nightmares about staring Ace down with the singleminded focus to see him dead. About wanting to watch the life drain out of Ace and Trey's eyes and anyone else who got in his way. His own anger terrifies him.

He's not going to get the mother that he wants. There's a certain hopelessness, to that realization.

He will eventually stop crying, but ends up not able to put anything away. When his mother finds him still sitting, it starts her demeaning him again. She tells him he's not capable of anything-- that he's acting out. He bites his tongue, though, because he knows that's not true. He knows he's not some useless child, and he knows exactly who he doesn't want to be. She's standing right there before him, nearly a one to one parallel to the monster he saw in himself that day.

It won't be a fun winter break, but now he knows going forward what he needs to do. Maybe not today, but someday he's going to cut her out of his life. Build a place for himself that feels like home, where he doesn't have to feel small. And when that time comes, his mother won't have any say in who he hangs out with or who comes over or how many tarts he eats. He has some discussions to have when he gets back to campus-- he needs to get input from the people he trusts to do right by him. It's not a fun winter break but he leaves it with a goal in mind and more hope for his future than he's had ever before.

[powerfulblob]

YEAH IT'S THAT POST TIME

let’s go!!!

OK so I’m gonna just talk about Goldenloin for a bit because Sir Fucksalot has given me many thoughts about life and shit

some background: I started out reading the Nimona comic, and was super hyped when the movie got released. I’m Korean, living in North America, and also queer and genderfucked which is probably relevant to this

ANYWAY

A lot of people have talked about the Model Minority Myth so far, but I wanted to talk about something else: Specifically, his complicity in other’s oppression, and how he uses his lack of choice in his privilege to justify his actions.

In that one scene: “A direct descendant of Gloreth? I never asked for that!” He’s actually really accurately portraying a lot of the conflicting feelings about being both privileged and Asian: It’s the recurring thought I’ve had so many times:

“Look: The only reason why I have this privilege in society is because of my parents’ horrible amounts of pressure, and the pressure their parents put on them, in order to not get literally crushed by it: I never asked for that! Why should I care if other POC are suffering?” 

It’s about knowing that your position is horrible, and comes with thousands of sacrifices (especially when you consider the subtext that he’s had to hide his relationship with Boldheart from the media), but not being able to use that for the process of liberation?.

It’s about ignoring all of the ways in which you’re still not allowed to live freely (the poverty rates for queer Asian folx, the rates of suicide, the rates of illness, abuse).

It’s a constant struggle for me to avoid that train of thought: The “I don’t care,” the “it’s not my fault, because I never asked to live here,” the “What could I possibly do?” the “I better stay with this Institution, then, and not try to run away” 

So in a way it was nice to see that, in the end, he (sorta) stood up for other people, himself and his values? Or something? I don’t know?

(Lol I do think that they absolutely fucked up his character growth in the end: They should have had a more coherent theme for his actions near the end of the movie, but I still love this character... If I were in charge of the movie, I’d definitely make sure he gets a better arc to go with that incredibly monologue near the middle that was sadly played off for comedic effect... if I were in charge of his ending, i would have made him resist the institution much more quickly, because he really didn't change much until legit the last minute, and they never quite explained why??? )

Yes, it is a children’s movie, and I’m probably getting a bit too worked up about this. But still... let me cook ig?

idk honestly i'll put together a more coherent essay later i think