#and were often enabled or even encouraged by their parents

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

there is this idea that crime is caused by poverty. it's so popular that people state it as fact. and i think there might be some truth to it. but honestly, i think it's overstated and the relationship between crime and poverty is a lot more complex than people think.

just anecdotally speaking, it never sat well with me because my personal experience has been that criminals tend to be opportunistic predators not people acting out of desperation. i knew lots of people who shoplifted or robbed people and almost none of them were so desperately impoverished that they needed to resort to crime.

they chose crime because it was easy money. there was nothing preventing them from getting a job. they just didn't want to work a 9 to 5. the bandit lifestyle was just a lot more convenient. let those other suckers work their asses off and then you can just rob them. i knew people who were living comfortable middle class lifestyles from boosting and drug dealing.

and the irony is, this sort of behavior actually impoverished our community in a lot of ways. it seemed to me like the crime came first. when my parents group here this area was really nice. then in the 90s and 00s crime became rampant and the entire community went to shit for a variety of reasons (luckily things have turned around in recent years thanks to some tough-on-crime policies). my own family (which was below the poverty line for most of my childhood) has been stolen from multiple times (including our car one time which really fucked us over). these people weren't robin hoods stealing from the rich and giving to the poor and they also weren't impoverished victims just trying to survive. these people were just straight up predators without a conscience.

#i also think culture plays a big part of it too #but i've said enough and don't wanna get too into it #i just know that these people tended to have similar cultures/lifestyles #and were often enabled or even encouraged by their parents #the fact is that by the age of 13 these kids already decided they wanted to live a life of crime #because it was cool and easy #anyway i'm just posting this because i saw some guy on twitter post a study #that seems to support my personal experience #oh also another thing that i wanted to mention #was that while my family was technically impoverished #no one in my family had any criminal inclinations #i mean #a lot of them were drug users i guess #but no one ever robbed or assaulted anyone #no one ever thought “damn we need money let's go shoplift electronics” #instead we all just got jobs #lmao

[painted-bees]

Raf's amount of self awareness and the amount of time he spends analyzing himself in his own head seemed a little far fetched until I got to the part about his past relationships and how badly things went despite having started therapy back then. It makes a lot more sense that he didn't get to this level of awareness and grace until way later after years of working on himself. But I really want to know how his relationship with Margie might have gone if he was less aware?

Oh, fun question lmao Assuming he never sees his behavior as something that he needs to work on: I think Margie's impulse to be honest and straightforward, and to wear her emotions on her sleeves would still have likely gotten her past his defenses and into a close relationship. But the closer/more important someone becomes to Raf, the more and more reactive/mercurial/mean he'd get. Those close relationships--the ones he treasures most--are the ones that pose the highest level of danger. They're the ones who'd hurt him the most if they betrayed him. Coupled with Margie's conflict-averse instinct to wilt, roll over, and apologize before considering if she'd even done anything wrong--we'd have likely seen a much more possessive and controlling Raf. We don't see that in his relationship with Lacey, because Lace would often bite back twice as hard, and was able to [very aggressively] assert boundaries with him. Margie, tho--so long as he kept encouraging and enabling her to make music, and providing warm, enthusiastic support on that front, she'd be easily convinced to change any behavior he didn't like--under the pretense that she was working on becoming a better, easier person to live with. I think, tho--if there ever arose a moment where he asserted that she couldn't pursue a music/career-related opportunity (that didn't require his involvement), if he threatened to take back all the 'nice things' he's given her as a tool of punishment/manipulation, or if he started discouraging her from vising friends or family--and if she couldn't reason with him on that front/it consistently resulted in a big argument every time--she'd end the relationship. She was, at least, raised well by her mother to identify that kind of situation as a 'get out now' 0 tolerance red flag of abuse. And--you know...if she had to do that, I think this would be the event that sees her move back home with her parents. Emotionally and psychologically, she'd lose a lot to this relationship. She'd need her family to help center herself again. Otherwise, Raf would likely sabotage the relationship for himself, and break things off with her over some catastrophic misunderstanding or another--where he is just unable and unwilling to hear her out and take her word at face value. But if certain lines are never crossed; if Margie learns to stifle/bury her excited impulses and exist as quietly as she is able to, and if Raf is able to pull himself back from enacting on paranoid compulsions just enough, he and Margie would probably find a tenuous but """comfortable""" stasis. Like with any relationship, they'd have moments both good and bad, catastrophes that maybe only resolve themselves for the convenience of it rather than out of a proper understanding, as well as tender moments of joyful whimsy, when the circumstances were right for it, that'd serve to remind them of why they're together in the first place and help bolster the staying-power of their relationship. But it'd all be balanced...very differently. They'd be a lot less fun, I think. Margie would have never suggested going to Cortes Island. She'd have been reluctant to suggest much at all. Raf would be stuck with the persistent suspicion that she resented him--and yanno--she might. But not for the reasons he'd think.

#hi-note #I don't much like this AU if I am being honest haha

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

one of my batfam hot takes is that alfred having a very kind and understanding grandfather-like role is a boring spin on the character and lacks a lot of nuance around his backstory.

like he is a classically trained british butler which means he very likely comes from a working class family. and like, as a working class brit myself, i sometimes find the kindly, well-mannered grandfather thing grating because, a lot of white, working class men his age are unfortunately not nice people. some of them are like my great grandad was a really great guy, but hes really the only one i know who is or was not awful.

because their generation werent as exactly raised with ideals about mental health and emotional regulation. a lot of them were traumatised due to ww2 either because they saw it firsthand when they were like 15, they were old enough to remember things like rationing and the blitz, and a lot of them lost their dads in the war.

i dont expect american writers to understand how much ww2 affected britain (modern britain is still so steeped in it, its insane) and that generation specifically, BUT id love to see that explored more with alfred. like depending on where he grew up, he would likely have been separated from his family during the blitz and sent off to the countryside like most of the kids in cities were, (this is how narnia starts) and like, a lot of them were horrifically abused or used as free labour. a lot of them also lost parents and never got to say goodbye to them. many came back to destroyed homes. some kids also remained in the city or their parents requested them back so theyd experience the blitz first hand and would know the sign of air raid siren meant they might die that night.

you can see how a lot of that generation were permanently scarred. and for a few decades now, alfred would have been part of that generation.

plus he was also a secret service officer which is just like more opportunities to be traumatised and more reason for him to not be this gentle old man whos in touch with his emotions.

and like, as a classically trained butler, he would likely be more reserved because you know, thats how he was trained. also british men that age would also likely be very hands off in regards to emotions.

but the biggest reason as to why the gentle, kind grandfather take doesnt really make sense is that he raised bruce wayne.

like bruce has a whole slew of emotional issues and problems, and obviously some of that is going to come from alfred raising him because you know, thats kinda how that works. i know a lot of batfam folks want bruce to be this great dad, so i guess their take on alfred fits that, but canonically, bruce wayne is an emotional mess and not the best father figure at the best of times.

you cannot look at that bruce wayne and tell me alfred did a good job.

listen, this shouldn't even be a hot take. it's just an opinion that differs from the most popular interpretation of Alfred as an endlessly giving grandmotherly old man.

the thing about Alfred is that more than anything you have to recognize that he's an enabler. and I love the man to pieces, but at absolute best he was extremely negligent in Bruce's upbringing, if not actively encouraging the world's worst coping mechanisms.

I hate to give Gotham credit for anything, especially when it comes to Alfred since I hate their Alfred, but the show was bang on in its insistence from day one that Alfred should not have been Bruce's primary guardian. it's painful to watch how often Alfred encourages Bruce to tough it out and suck it up, and it never really stops. in one of the latter seasons (four, I think) he hits Bruce hard enough to give him a black eye during an argument, and this is ultimately written as a situation in which Bruce needs to apologize to Alfred for being a bratty teenager, rather than Alfred owing Bruce an apology for hitting him when he's a grief-stricken teenage boy cracking under stress.

and like, listen, I understand there are Watsonian and Doylist layers to this. Alfred fundamentally can't have been a good enough guardian to stop Bruce from channeling his trauma into fursuit vigilantism, because then there's no story. I get it.

but jesus christ.

I don't think characterizations of Alfred as a stoic caregiver are wrong, but I do think people don't want to think about how he got there. when I see the aged Alfred patching up Bruce's wounds and nagging him to eat, or doing his best to offer advice to the kids who have gotten mixed up in Bruce's crusade, I see a man who realized a long time ago that he dropped the fucking ball and has dedicated his life to doing as much damage control as possible. okay, so, completely failed step one (raise a well-adjusted child). can we at least make sure that this basket case adult man doesn't go completely over the edge? can we make sure he doesn't become a killer? can we encourage him to take off the mask and be Bruce Wayne sometimes? can we keep the children safe?

I do think Alfred loves all of them, for whatever its worth. his care for Bruce is real, that is his son, the Batgirls and Robins are his extended family. he'll cook their uneaten meals and clean the entire, massive house himself and stitch them up every night forever. he would die for them. hell, he'd kill for them. he loves them. but none of that means he raised Bruce right.

that's kind of the thing I like most about the Bats: they all care so, so much. but the way they love is terrible.

#alfred pennyworth

[vadersassistant]

Endgame Chapter 1 (Darth Vader x Reader)

I am princess of Ethereaan, successor to my parents, the king and queen, even though I was the youngest sibling. My older sister was born with several disabilities, enabling her to not be able to fulfill the role. That left only me to take her place, at the ready to lead a planet all on my own, since I hadn’t courted anyone yet.

“I can’t believe it’s already today,” I said.

“It’ll be great just do what you always do,” Skai encouraged, helping me slip on my dress as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I met her dark eyes, a smile appearing on both of our faces.

“Are you going with anyone?”

“Not as of right now no,” she sighed. “However, if a trooper were to ask me to dance, I’d say yes.”

“Sounds good to me,” I shrugged.

“Are you going with anyone, your highness?” her emphasis was purposed, alluding to my suitors.

“My father refused,” I said. “He wanted me to remain open minded, so the option of courting an imperial still remains.”

I shot Skai a nervous smile, as she gave me a knowing glance. It was clear the two of us agreed on how absurd it was, but still we were at a disagreement. I liked to take the high road, swallowing down the issue and making the most of it, while she preferred acknowledging it, and swindling her way out of it.

“It’s okay, if he believes that’s best then I will do as he says,” I reasoned.

“It would look good for Ethereaan, inner rim and all,” she added. “Especially with the event, you could really make a show out of this.”

“Still a little shocked,” I laughed once we finished up, going towards the door of my bedroom. “Empire Day is such a big deal.”

Empire Day was the anniversary of when the imperials resumed power and the chancellor transitioned to emperor. Every year an inner rim planet was chosen to have a ball for it, hosting hundreds of senators and high-ranking imperials in celebration. Speeches were given, parades planned beforehand, and fireworks at the end. My father and Palpatine were very close, due to Ethereaan’s trading in minerals and weaponry. It made sense that we were chosen for its third year.

Skai was quick to open the door, resuming her handmaiden personality in the process, as I fulfilled my own as princess. We headed over to the dining room to meet with the rest of my family, walking fast but not in a hurry. My posture was like a beam going down my back, as the ends of my dress fluttered naturally. It complemented the Ethereaanian colors well, those being blue and white with silver. The corridor was open, stain glass windows defining the walls while stone floors laid beneath our feet. The large room dawned quickly, my mother and father waiting at the end of the table, perking up when the doors opened.

“Good morning,” I smiled, greeting both.

“Good morning, sleep well?” mom asked.

“Mm, better than usual,” I answered while stretching. I paused, going over to see my sister before sitting down. “Good morning, Karai.”

‘Good morning sister,’ she said through sign language. Karai could hear but couldn’t form sentences, so we used sign language instead. She also couldn’t walk well, which is why we used a wheelchair when she needed to move.

I smiled, and softly squeezed her hand before finding a spot. Before me were blueberry pancakes, with Jawa juice and fruit, made by the palace chefs. I watched as the steam rolled off it, as one of the servants put it down. I mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him as my father stood up, almost at the same time I sat down. He was tall, the tallest person I had ever seen, standing at six four. When he stood up, it often meant his words were to be taken as high demand.

“There have been some recent updates to tonight’s event,” father spoke eloquently but serious. “We are to host a feast beforehand.”

“With whom?” I asked.

“Several high-ranking officers in the Empire,” my mother clarified, seeming uneasy.

“Is there something wrong with them?”

“Lord Vader will be in attendance; we are to escort him and the others personally to the ball.”

There was a moment of silence, my mom looking at my dad like they were telepathically speaking. Her body language was obviously tensed, his similar.

“Who called for this?” I wondered.

“Emperor Palpatine personally asked of it, since he cannot attend this year due to a personal emergency,” dad explained.

“Of course, I understand,” I said.

“Good, you must get ready right away, it is already later than usual,” mom advised. “Arrive at the gaming room, we shall entertain them while all the guests arrive.”

“I will see you then,” I waved to them, standing up as Skai shadowed me.

The moment the doors shut again, and I was out of the public eye, Skai dropped her mannerisms and drew her mouth agape. I watched her press her weight to it, like she wanted to make sure she wasn’t heard.

“Lord Vader?!” Skai whisper-shouted to me as we made our way back to my quarters. “I mean—I knew he was going to be there, but to dinner? Being escorted?”

“If the emperor wills it, we don’t have much of a choice,” I shrugged.

“He is referenced to as the Dark Lord (Y/N),” Skai’s voice was laced with fear. “If I mess one thing up, I could die.”

“So, evade him all you can, nothing will happen,” I assured.

Vader was Lord of the Sith, and Palpatine’s right hand. He was the most powerful force user in the galaxy, like a guard dog to the emperor. He could destroy a planet’s population with no question, he had destroyed many planet’s populations with no question. It was said that darkness followed everywhere he went, his attitude ruthless and unmerciful. It was do or die, and if you didn’t do something right, you died anyways. Everyone knew of his name and what it meant, and only the current rebellion went against it.

Once we got to my room several other handmaidens arrived, makeup, accessories, and outfits in hand. It would be several hours of prodding, but I didn’t mind, I knew it was for the best. I allowed them to get the upper hand, strategizing about the night in the process.

After showering, applying traditional Ethereaan makeup, putting on my dress made for the event, and styling my hair, I was complete. I tried to help as much as I could, but the handmaidens refused every time I raised a hand. The hours flew by naturally by conversation, the time quickly running out. All that was left now was to slip on a pair of heels. I needed to wear a pair that was significant and matched well, but were also easy to move in. There was no doubt I would be dancing tonight, and I knew I’d get blisters if I wasn’t careful.

“All done,” Skai sighed satisfactory.

“Thank you, all of you,” I said, standing and getting a feel for the shoes.

“Of course, milady,” they spoke synchronized, before quickly dismissing themselves.

I watched awkwardly as they left my room, before turning back to my friend and following. The gaming room was on the way to the large dining area, it was like a casino, with a vast number of activities inside. I visited it often when I was free, knowing how to entertain others being a part of my role. A side of me genuinely enjoyed it, often playing against the handmaidens or Skai specifically.

An assortment of lights decorated the place, Skai and I both looking around and taking it in. All the machines had their mechanisms. The Dejarik tables, better known as holochess, blinked in the back of the room. The Sabacc cards were littered around their designated surfaces. The arcade games lined the walls, an assortment of pinball machines taking most of the space. Finally, the pool tables caught my eye, sitting pre-prepared with all fifteen balls set in a triangular shape.

I walked over, picking a pool cue that fit my hand and motioning to hit the white cue ball. I hadn’t played in a while, but I decided it would do.

“I think someone is coming,” Skai told me, as other servants began to filter in. They were carrying drinks, ready to handout.

We both watched the door, and before either of us could spark another conversation it abruptly opened. There were two guards holding either side, and I saw my mother at the front of the crowd.

“You may entertain yourselves here as we await other guests,” she said, welcoming the several men behind her. “This is Grand Admiral Thrawn, Admiral Motti, Admiral Piett, Director Krennic, Admiral Yularen, and Grand Moff Tarkin,” the queen introduced. “Esteemed guests, this is your majesty, Princess (Y/N),” my mother then introduced myself.

“Pleased to meet you all,” I bowed my head obediently.

“We are still waiting on a few, so I shall leave you to it.”

I nodded my mom off, quickly going to personally introduce myself as she left. I shook all their hands, meeting their eyes and acknowledging them. The servants soon followed, offering light alcoholic beverages on a silver platter. I watched as the guards held the doors for several storm troopers as my mom transitioned out. They all silently lined the room, watching in case of emergency. There was always rumor of the rebellion, people trying to take shots at the Empire. Especially at an event like this, security was called for, although I wasn’t sure if anyone would have the gut to do anything with Lord Vader here.

“There is an assortment of games to choose from, I am going to play pool if anyone would like to join me?” I offered.

“I would be honored your majesty,” the odd one out said. He had blue skin, navy hair, and a white uniform.

Thrawn, I repeated his name in my mind as I walked over to the table. The rest followed, making conversation amongst themselves. It seemed they were more interested in watching than playing separately, which I didn’t mind at all. It would be easier to keep track of everyone that way, as more guests arrived.

“You may go first,” I ushered as he picked a pool cue from the rack.

“Thank you,” his smooth but deep voice gratified.

He leaned over the table, his hand outstretched so that the shaft of the stick laid between the thumb and pointer finger. Drawing it outwards, the tip bumped into the cue ball and against the triangle of colored ones. A stripped ball fell into the top left hole, meaning he could shoot again.

I stepped away from the table, allowing for the Chiss to move freely. He went to the right, attempting to hit another stripped ball into the top left. It was better he did so, since that meant he’d be two balls down. It was an easy shot, slipping in gently into the pouch. The admiral smiled victoriously, looking up at me with red eyes.

“Have you played this before?” Director Krennic asked after sipping on his drink. He held the champagne cup almost cockily.

“A few times as of recent, yourself, Director?” Thrawn rebutted.

“Yes,” he sounded amused. It was apparent that he was questionable of the Chiss and his species but wouldn’t openly admit it. “What about you, your highness?”

“Yes, I grew up learning an assortment of activities including this one,” I said, as Thrawn missed his third shot.

My gown flowed as I paced to the other side of the table and looked at my options. The balls were cluttered on one end, making it hard to take an open shot. It would be best to try and angel one to ricochet off the side and into another, not to mention, I had to avoid all colored balls and the eight ball in the process. I was now deep in thought, strategizing while in movement.

Looking at the ball I wanted to hit, I angled the shaft of the cue and bent over. Aiming for the ball, I hit the tip slightly harder than the Admiral, and watched it clash with the wall then the other ball. It slid into the top right corner easily, offering me a second chance.

“Impressive,” Thrawn mused, making me smile.

I lined myself up once more with another ball, a clear opening being made due to my previous shot. I sunk it in once, more tying my score with his. This made the others become more intrigued, quitting their conversation, and coming to watch the game. The setup was now difficult, as the only shot I could sink would most likely be my last. I did it anyways, pressing my hand down onto the tables fabric and practicing the movement. I hit the ball lower than previous, making it roll into the left middle pocket, the cue ball along with it.

I laughed, making the rest of the room join in comfortably, motioning for the Grand Admiral to take the ball. He could now position it wherever he wanted, looking to the bottom right pocket where his previous ball landed. His expression was calculated, like the war general he was. The game was close, too close for anyone to predict its outcome. Thrawn continued to slip the ball in and went for another hit, while an unfamiliar noise came from the hall.

All of the imperials turned, including the Chiss, several adjusting how they appeared. It sounded like a respirator, a methodical breathing sound that was almost rhythmic. I knew it was him.

The doors opened more rigidly this time, and there he stood, my parents behind him.

He was taller than my father, with broad shoulders that held up his cloak. His entire outfitting was black, with armor fitted over a tunic, and a belt meeting his waist where his lightsaber hung. The most prominent feature was his mask, slightly tinted red visors with a modulator at the front. You couldn’t tell whether he was looking at you or not because of it, and no one knew what he looked like underneath in the first place. 

I felt something cold run up my back, seeing the others also find a similar fate. It didn’t affect me though, still standing straight with my head facing the Sith. Everyone nodded their head, whispering a ‘my lord’ in harmony. The cold lingered, like it was sitting on my shoulders, wrapping around my figure.

“There are still a few more guests we must attend to,” my father clasped his hands. “We will return.”

“I missed my last shot, your majesty,” Thrawn said right after. I didn’t see it for myself, but I was at no disadvantage by it.

The crowd willingly turned back to the game, seemingly preferring to look at this than the dark lord. I noted that Skai had disappeared as I went back to playing, taking in the situation at hand.

The balls were now all spread across the surface, distanced enough that it was easy to take a shot anywhere. There were nine left, eight if you didn’t include the one you could hit.

The eight ball was guarding the top right pocket, while the cue ball currently sat between the right middle section. My best and only bet was trying to angle my shot so that it would hit the top wall and knock into the other with enough force. That way it would roll into the bottom left corner, since all the other shots were crowded with striped balls.

I needed to hit it hard, my hand placement carefully holding the shaft of the stick. This was my only option, I reminded myself, as I went to hit the cue ball.

“Why take that risk when there are several easier shots?” Grand Moff Tarkin asked.

“If I were to hit this one,” I pointed to the ball that stood by the top left corner. “I would make it, but then wouldn’t be able to hit another.”

“So, you are taking a risker shot instead, in hopes of gaining the lead,” he finished. “And you have trust in yourself that you can do it?”

“I do,” I said.

“Well go ahead then, I apologize for the interruption,” Tarkin ushered.

I nodded and smiled, bending down again to become leveled with the pool cue. I inhaled, getting a feel for the shaft again before exhaling and following through. The ball hit the wall, clashing with the other, and landing almost perfectly into the hole.

“Impressive,” Thrawn murmured.

I went to take another shot but before I could the doors behind us opened and we all shifted.

“It is time for dinner,” my father announced, a few more imperials behind him.

The guests began to follow the king and queen out, but not before I stopped Thrawn.

“I can take that if you like,” I waved my hand out, ushering for his pool cue.

“Thank you, your majesty,” he handed it to me softly, his hand grazing mine. “You are very talented.”

“Thank you, I enjoyed playing,” I admitted.

I put both cues’ away, before returning and noticing that the Chiss had waited for me. With a soft expression he waved for us to walk together, into the corridors of the palace. I couldn’t see the crowd ahead, due to Vader’s cape billowing in front of us as we left. We were all very close and compact though, and due to my knowledge of the layout it wasn’t an issue. I simply walked with my hands behind my back, as we made conversation.

“Your planet is beautiful, the best venue so far for this event.”

“I agree, I am glad we’ve been given the opportunity to do this,” I nodded.

“Do you explore the city often?” he asked.

“Yes, when I can I like to interact with it as much as possible,” I answered.

“Perhaps I will have to see it for myself.”

We stopped at a dead end, the entrance to the dining room now in front of us. I turned around, hearing a rolling sound, only to see my sister in her wheelchair, and Skai behind. Thrawn quickly noticed as well, bowing his head to her before entering the large room. It was magnificent, a long table with an uncountable number of chairs around it, and large chandelier overhead. Banners and windows decorated the walls, our family crest imprinted on most.

It was a known thing that Lord Vader didn’t sit or eat at events, so a chair wasn’t offered for him. Instead, nametags located each person to their seat, my parents sitting at the front of the table. Next to my father on the left side was my sister, then myself, then Grand Moff Tarkin. Grand Admiral Thrawn was next to my mother, the Director next to him, and a stream of admirals down both sides. We all pulled out our own seats, Karai sitting in her wheelchair close to the table. Lord Vader came to Tarkins side, standing behind the two of us. His shadow would have entirely covered me if the light wasn’t in front of us. I didn’t think much of it though, instead turning my attention to my sister as glasses of water were set down on the table.

“Are you excited?” I asked her, forming sign language with my hands.

‘Kind of, I hope the food is good,’ she answered.

“I’m sure it will be,” I answered, continuing to sign to her.

She didn’t enjoy large events like this, the crowds and lights often overstimulating her. She would most likely be at the ball for a bit in the beginning and then circle around the venue with Skai, where less people were.

“Can you speak fluently in sign?” Grand Moff Tarkin asked me.

“Yes, I chose to learn it at a young age,” I told him.

“Why?” he wondered. “I thought a child would not be motivated to take on such a tedious task.”

I noticed Vader turned his helmet, looking down at me as I spoke.

“I wanted to be able to communicate with my sister in a way that was convenient for her,” I said.

“Even though it was laborious for yourself?”

“I never found it laborious to begin with, I only thought about what it would do for her.”

“Your actions are commendable, Princess (Y/N), the emperor has spoken highly of you,” Tarkin commented.

“I am honored,” I thanked him.

My father made a toast before the food was served and soon enough, we were eating. I felt odd for most of the process, although I couldn’t place why. It was like someone was watching me, like something was resting on my shoulders, a comforting weight that felt protective. I thought it would leave once we made our way to the venue, but it never did, it just lingered.

The walk there was calming. After a long dinner and discussion, we were outside while the sun set, walking on the docks over to the ballroom. It was separated from the palace, but still on the lands where it was located, surrounded by the lakes. The sun set over us, while the trees shaded patches of the path we walked on. I was at the front of the crowd, walking with my sister and Skai while my parents spoke to Tarkin behind. It seemed everyone was still on edge due to the dark lord, Skai especially being unnerved, as he walked right behind her.

I looked at her as she held a death grip on my sister’s wheelchair, attempting to look as professional as possible. My face was like stone, remaining neutral without a hint of discontent. The only thing on my mind was the conversation behind me, my fathers authoritative voice being hard to block out.

“Do you plan to continue aiding the Empire in the future, and extending the contract?” Tarkin asked my father.

“Yes, we hope to.”

“Hoping and doing have two separate meanings,” a baritone voice replied, the sound of Lord Vader’s breathing stopping when it came. I knew it was him, for the first time this entire night, he had spoken.

“Of course, my lord, we will extend the contact when the time comes,” my father said, almost timidly.

The conversation was cut short at that moment, reaching the venue. You could hear the noise coming from inside, the sound of a live orchestra, and talking specifically. Hundreds of people stood, lights blaring as food was served by droids and music filled the ears of everyone passing. The doors opened and an uproar of cheers followed, welcoming the main hosts into the room.

The night went smoothly but rather quickly. I couldn’t count how many people I had spoken with, let alone had to dance with. That included Thrawn, who was the first to ask when he had the chance. I mostly traveled around, meeting people, and greeting anyone and everyone I saw. I hadn’t seen my parents much, but that was a natural consequence in this kind of arena.

The most prominent people were the storm troopers, who lined the entire space. They were clones, taken from the previous war and recommissioned after the republic fell. The way you could tell was their voice, all of them having the same accent when speaking. Skai thought they were cute; I knew she was around here somewhere. Occasionally I’d check to see if she was dancing with someone in the center, but it hadn’t seemed to happen yet.

This was one of those times, as I weaved through tables of congregating people and made my way to the dance floor. I looked at the duos of people slowly swaying with one another, hoping to point out her straight black hair in the crowd. She still seemed to have disappeared, but I didn’t mind it as long as she was fine. The time would come, and I would never let her live it down when it did.

I turned around, sighing almost defeatedly when I saw that someone had approached me. The people that were once close to me had spread out and turned their backs, the reason why standing dead in my tracks. I looked up, as a shadow towered over my figure. It was only now that I realized the weight on my shoulders never left.

“Your highness, I did not get to properly make an acquaintance with you earlier, I do apologize,” Lord Vader said.

“Oh, no worries my lord,” I replied.

“Have you had the opportunity to dance with anyone?” he asked. His voice was intimidating and commanding. Vader stoked fear in anyone he came near, the exact reason why the two of us weren’t near anyone else.

“Yes, it has been quite enjoyable to be able to,” I answered.

“I presume I may as well, princess?” Vader followed up.

“Of course.”

I was extremely surprised but tried not to think much. I couldn’t even if I wanted to, becoming quickly consumed by what was about to happen. Vader lent me his hand, bringing me to where the rest were. The song had changed, the orchestra shifting to a tune that sounded romantic but not distinct enough to name.

Dancing with Thrawn had been methodical, he was incredibly experienced at it, his footwork riding against my own. The rest also had their own special touches, and as the night went on it became apparent that they shared a common goal. But that was nothing like this, this was different. I was dancing with death, the dark lord of the Sith, the most powerful man in the galaxy. He could easily snap my neck if he wanted, and yet I reminded myself  he hadn’t.

The Sith’s hand was much larger than mine, his touch very strong but shockingly gentle. If I wanted to free myself, I wouldn’t be able to, but it was comfortable, not harsh. I thought it might squeeze me to death at first, but it was the pure opposite. Vader’s other hand slowly rested on the small of my waist, circling to my back. My hand sat on his breast armor, shoulder placement feeling unnatural due to height difference. His cloak covered the two of us, the front of my vision entirely corrupted by the man in black.

Finally, our other hands interlocked, mine once again becoming small in his. So far, it had been the same experience as the rest, up until I felt something creep up my back. It was that same cold wind, the weight on my shoulders spreading to my entire body, pulling me close to him. I unexpectedly wavered, what felt like a haze washing over my senses completely. It felt like something had invaded my mind, a feeling I had never experienced but was able to place. I blinked hard out of shock, assuming it would go away, but was surprised when dark tendrils came into my peripherals.

It was only for a moment, but relief came along with it. I looked around, everything was blocked out except for him. I couldn’t hear anything but the music, and Vader’s breathing.

“How?” I doubted myself, thinking I was going insane. I tried to let go of him to rub my eyes, but his grip was far too strong to attempt it.

“Do not resist,” Vader spoke. “Look at me, do not worry about anything else.”

It felt like my legs were moving on their own, and I hadn’t even realized I was still dancing until I looked up at him. It was the force, all of this, was him. I felt helplessly relaxed in his hold, protected beyond compare. It was like his presence was everywhere, all consuming and invading. This was not the same experience as the rest, it was better. I found myself entranced, and enjoying this, as the lights felt like they had dimmed.

Still a million thoughts ran through my mind, wondering why this was happening in the first place. He showed affection for no one, most thought if he was to marry it would be with another Sith if it was possible. They thought he was too powerful for anyone else, that he couldn’t love someone.

“Sith do not have to marry one another.”

My eyes widened up at him, realizing the rumor that he read minds was true. Suddenly, I felt vulnerable, wondering if the crowds also heard his words. Part of me wondered what the people would think of this in general, whether the Empire would point it out in the tabloids. I had no shame in dancing with him, but it could change my planet’s reputation forever.

“No one can hear this conversation but the two of us, this event will not be remembered by anyone if you do not wish for it,” the Sith read my mind for the second time, and I felt my face heat up.

“How is that possible?” I asked. I believed his words; my question was out of genuine curiosity.

“Search your feelings, your memories will remind you,” Vader ushered.

The conversation between Skai and I replayed in my mind. I knew, I just didn’t want to admit how powerful he truly was. I didn’t want to admit how much I was enjoying this. The fact that I condoned his merciless killing, and the fact I was in the arms of a man that could do horrific things without blinking an eye.  

“I didn’t know you enjoyed dancing,” I admitted, hoping to shift the conversation.

“I don’t.”

“We can stop,” I assured him almost naturally. “I don’t want this to bother you.”

“No, this does not apply,” the force kept me in place as he spoke.

“How so?”

“Because the reason you offered to stop, you differentiate from every single person in this vicinity.”

“I understand,” I maintained eye contact, swallowing almost nervously, because in truth I had no clue what he meant.

“Do you?” he asked me.

“I want to,” I said.

“You shall.”

The cold feeling that once laid on my back now felt warm, a tingly sensation in my mind that rested gently. The song ended, and we stayed together, the haze around me fading. Once I noticed, I was quick to take in my surroundings, easing back into the sound of chattering. My sights rested on a girl with long, straight black hair, and a tall man with blonde shaved hair and strong jawline.

She seemed to notice too, her eyes locking onto mine, and within and instant, Vader turned to see what shocked me so much. Skai looked owlish, holding onto a clone who had different armor than the rest. She looked me up and down, as I remained a neutral face, but a slight waver in my lips made it clear I agreed with her surprise. She had danced with the Storm Troopers captain, while I had danced with the lord of the Sith.

I watched as Skai looked up to meet Vader’s gaze and immediately looked away. She was terrified, but also flustered looking at the clone before her. He was handsome, not my type, but handsome.

I returned to Vader, having yet to be released from his grasp, his respirators sound being the most consistent thing of the night.

“Thank you, your highness,” he said, as if nothing happened.

“It was an honor, my lord,” I left in harmony with him, the two of us splitting.

I needed fresh air, to get away from the overwhelming lack of space amidst the crowd. I saw Skai leaving too, heading towards the opposite door that I was. I assumed she was returning to Karai, who most likely was outside. My heart rate picked up; I could feel it.

I hurried towards the outdoor corridor, swallowing harshly as I met the cold nights air. I needed something, anything to snap me out of whatever just happened. I was intrigued of all things, a part of me wondering if it would ever happen again. The sound of Vader’s breathing had disappeared in exchange for crickets chirping in by the tall grasses and the sound of the lake water moving about. All of it so harmonious and yet I couldn’t relax to it. I needed something new to latch onto, something that would stay constant.

It sounded like something pressurized hit a surface. I looked around, to see absolutely nothing different, and yet there was now a repetitive beeping sound ringing in my ears. At first, I thought I was hallucinating, forcing myself to create the pattern in my mind so that I would calm down. It was only when it began to speed up that I realized the severity of the situation.

My eyes wandered to the stain glass window as my hands held onto the rail behind me. I looked just a bit closer at it, to see a subtle blinking light on a small circular dome. It was only a moment later that the noise got too fast, and I saw the door at the end of the hall open, but there was no time to see who it was. The sound was so loud that it felt like my eardrums blocked it out, a fire of red and orange fumigating my senses as I tried to cover my face with one arm. It was a stupid move I decided, closing my eyes shut, only for them not to open.

FIRST CHAPTERRR its totally not like 5k words but wtv it only gets better from here.

NOTE: Karai's disabilities are based on my experiences IRL since I have family who struggles with it. Hope you enjoyed!

#darth vader x reader #darth vader imagine #star wars x reader #suitless darth vader x reader

[puckgoss]

https://www.tumblr.com/puckgoss/748772014311047168/httpswwwtumblrcompuckgoss748771073896644608

thisss!! the nda’s are so common because that’s what they want to be perceived as, prodigies that started out young in a huge league and are giving their lives for their sport.

in reality they’re all privileged boys who were always told they were amazing at what they do and had thousands of dollars invested on their careers. when they were little by their parents, and now by their respective teams that put on all these contracts and protect them from literally any possible bad press against them. that’s why all of them cheat!! they think they’re allowed to because no one ever told them they’re doing anything wrong

sincerely - someone with a hockey family

that's one of the most important parts of hockey culture anon, ur so right...

they have enormous egos and are enabled from a young age, often come from extreme privilege, and have had hundreds of thousands of dollars invested into them - nobody wants to do anything to jeopardize that all going to waste

there's studies on this that i'll have to link later but even in talking to guys who grew up in hockey - sometimes they barely even know that their behaviour/stuff encouraged in hockey culture is wrong - or they do technically know but they're so deeply entrenched in it that they're like "oh it's just how it is"

they're so divorced from reality and how normal ppl behave / genuinely believe that a diff set of rules apply to them - bc that's what they've been taught and they've never been proven otherwise

#ask! #hockey culture

[dwellordream]

“In the last decades of the 19th century, Native Americans continued to be herded off their lands and forced into reservations. There, both men and women tried to maintain their intimate and cooperative relationship with the land, but reservation officials discouraged them from establishing cooperative farms and instead encouraged them to farm individual plots. As a result, Native American women gradually lost control of the land, and their social power within their tribes diminished. The equal relationship between Indian women and men changed and began to resemble the marital relations of the white settlers, in which a husband held economic and social power over his wife.

As their way of life eroded, both Native American women and men were forced to enter into a servile relationship with white settlers. Indian women, and some men, washed clothes and dishes and did other household chores for settlers. Some Indian women worked as nursemaids for white women. As their lands were scooped up by non-Indians eager to wrest a profit from the land, Native Americans’ communal, agrarian way of life vanished--and with it, the Native American women’s prominent tribal role.

…In the 1870s, Hispanic villages remained almost untouched by the growing presence of white, or Anglo, settlers. Some Hispanic men performed seasonal work for Anglo settlers for extra cash, then returned to their villages. This extra income enabled Hispanic farmers to purchase additional livestock or to open a store. By the 1880s, however, an expanding railroad system brought more white settlers to the Southwest. As more Anglos arrived, they forced their cultural values and business practices on Hispanics. They imposed the notion of private property, the use of property for commercial gain rather than for subsistence, and an economy based on money instead of barter.

Most important, they simply took land that had been commonly owned by Hispanic villagers. Lacking sufficient pastureland, villagers could hardly sustain their agrarian way of life on their small individual plots. Gradually, Anglos gained control over the local village economy throughout New Mexico, Arizona, and Colorado. With insufficient land to support themselves, Hispanics had no choice but to work for the new landowners. Hispanic women were no longer able to help support their communal life. They began to work for whites as seamstresses, cooks, launderers, domestics, hotel keepers, and even prostitutes. Like Native American women, they worked as day laborers for someone else instead of as farmers for their own people.

…In the mining camps of Butte, Montana, as well as in the desert outposts of New Mexico, women worked as prostitutes and owners of brothels and saloons. Women became prostitutes for a variety of reasons--to rebel against strict parents, to experience the adventure of a mining camp, or simply to earn a living when no other choice of work was available. Some women prospered and turned their earnings into lucrative real estate investments, but many women felt socially outcast and were at risk of contracting venereal diseases, which were often fatal, or of being physically abused by male customers. Prostitution was a lonely, insecure life spent mostly in dark, shabby hotel rooms.

A shameful chapter in the settling of the West concerns Chinese women who were sold into prostitution. These unsuspecting young women were either kidnapped in China and smuggled into American ports, or they were deceived by agents posing as matchmakers who lured them to America. Either way, they became virtual slaves, forced to service the sexual needs of Chinese immigrant male laborers working on the railroads and ranches of the West. Some found sympathetic support from female missionaries who sheltered them in special group homes and trained them to be wives and mothers. But the missionaries pressured them into entering marriages that were not always happy or compatible, and these unfortunate young Chinese women still had little control over their lives.”

- Harriet Sigerman, “‘I Wish I Had Many Hands”: Toilers on the Land.” in Laborers for Liberty: American Women, 1865-1890

#harriet sigerman #laborers for liberty #gender #american #history #indigenous #1860s #1870s #1880s

[enduringenthusiast]

Alador, Odalia, Abuse, and Codependence

This episode dropped a lot of revelations into the nature of Alador and Odalia’s relationship. When we first met Alador the fan response was that he seemed so harmless, followed by a lot of fans pointing out he was still neglectful to the children and not to cut him so much slack. In the end, they were both right. 

It’s obvious Odalia is, to put it simply, worse. That Odalia is more directly harmful in the children’s lives, putting them in situations that physically and emotionally harm them. Alador’s crime is neglect; he doesn’t listen to them, talk to them, and backs Odalia when she carries out her plans. Now we know Odalia was manipulating Alador more intently then we were first led to believe: threatening him, forcing him to spend an unhealthy amount of time working, and intentionally isolating him and the kids. Alador has a not often represented, but realistic, blend of being abused and not even realizing that’s what's happening. 

Part of why he doesn’t realize, or at least doesn’t care, is their codependence on each other. The two enable and bring out the worst in each other, allowing themselves to do what they want. Odalia gets someone who subscribes to her powerplay, a malleable target who will do as he’s told, and access to his inventions for selling and exploiting (money). Alador gets something from this too, he gets someone who funds and supports his research, who encourages him to devote himself to the work he loves, who does all the sales of those inventions for him. He doesn’t care where the money comes from, or at what cost if he gets to do his work. If one of them leaves, it’s over, especially Alador. 

I love that Alador never claims that Odalia was “behind everything all along,” and instead acknowledges the impact his passivity and enabling of her hurt his children and actively fights against it. So many shows end with blind forgiveness from a child to a parent, and I like watching it actually develop over multiple episode that Alador is trying to be better and make up for it. (Kinda hope Odalia’s left in the dust, we don’t have time for her redemption and it’s also nice to see media say it’s ok to cut people out of your life) 

#alador blight #odalia blight #toh #the owl house #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #original #analysis

[nothingtherefornow]

Sadly and furiously, there's worse teachers than Bustier and Mendeleiv, and worse principals than Damoclès in real life

I've just read stories and testimonials from people about their years in primary and secondary school in France, And I've realized that, in fact, there are really so much worse cases than Miss Bustier, Mrs. Mendeliev, and Mr. Damocles as teachers and principals in real life :

Teachers and principals who aren't just enablers, but bullies themselves. Teachers who select one of their students as a scapegoat to vent all their frustrations, often punishing them unfairly, and ignoring or making fun of their difficulties, humiliating them in front of other students, etc. To the point that it also encouraged others students to bully the scapegoat student. One testimony particularly schoked me :

"I had a teacher who found all possible excuses to punish me, when we had presentations/assignements to make, the others in my class had 1 week to do it... I had to do it for the day after. She very often deprived me of recess, prevented me from going to the toilets, but above all, she couldn't see me so much that she very often sent me to the principal's class to do my punishments. She and the director were very good friends, and the director also had fun punishing me and saying mean things about me in front of her students. I was the student not to become. And this had quite a repercussion since the class of the director attacked me physically and also mentally during the lunch break (the only recess I had the right to because I had to eat), which , over the months, had rounded up all the other classes who came to harass me too (except my class, being aware that I did nothing wrong). And the harassment was even sometimes sexual and I confess that I do not understand how no supervisor could see what was happening."

it's terrifying how Miraculous actually only shows a fraction of school bullying and what a bad teacher is

Fortunately there are also testimonials on teachers who have helped students a lot.

A favorite youtuber of mine spoke of a teacher in a large kindergarten section who had traumatized her, and led her to withdraw into herself and never participate in class again. Then in CP, she had a teacher who was the exact opposite, fair, kind and attentive A teacher who helped her heal the wounds of the previous year. as kindergarten and primary shared the same canteen, the bad teacher and the good teacher already knew each other, and one day the youtuber witnessed a conversation between the two teachers of which she was the subject. The good teacher complimented her student and expressed her joy to have her in her class, while the bad teacher dared to ask "are you sure she is not mentally retarded?" about her former student, and she added that "according to science" students who are too well behaved hid a vice, and that one should not hesitate to often punish them, even if it means going as far as corporal punishment. The nice teacher replied that if she were to come across a teacher punishing his students this way, she would report them to the rectorate, slash their car tires, and set their house on fire. Then the good teacher asked to her colleague "I sure hope you're not that kind of teacher, right ?" Karma is rare in real life, but when it does its job, it's a jubilant moment ^^.

This story may be exaggerated, but I found it interesting to cite it

Myself I had an immense chance to have a schooling which took place without aplomb despite my autism thanks also to the presence of my twin sister (my parents always and rightly arranged for us to be in the same class) and I have always had relatively good teachers.

But reading and listening to this kind of testimonies really makes me realize that there are still a lot of bad teachers who do not just enable but also participate in the bullying of one or many students. Those kind of "adults" are the shame of teaching, people who shouldn't even have the right to teach nor approach children.

SPOILER WARNING ABOUT MIRACULOUS SEASON 5

That's why the episode Confrontation had me starting to despise Caline Bustier and Denis Damoclès a lot less, because it's better to have a teacher and principal regretting their past bullying enabling actions and misleading, and wanting to make up for it and become better, rather than teachers and principals who do enjoy abusing their students and never get caught

#miraculous ladybug #bullying and bad teaching #abusive teaching #school trauma and phobia #I hate teachers and students who abuse and torment others #fuck the bullies #whever they are students or teachers #comparison with real lives testimonies

[sanctified-sanctuary]

I won’t have time to add them to my carrd for a while so quick reference for the old new goon squad 🤪

Liam “Jekyll” Hyde- hellhound shifter demon, he’s in his late-mid 20s, He/Him, big idiot who rushes into situations head first but is also the first to laugh at the consequences. Long dark red hair that’s pulled half up usually but still in his face, light tan with dark freckles all over his body and long claw scars from his chest over his shoulder down his back and a supernaturally large bite scar on his shoulder. His eyes are green into gold toward the iris, the gold takes over the more he shifts eventually also darkening his sclera. He grew up on the infernal plane with other hellhounds until he was summoned by Hunter, at which point he agreed to be their familiar and spent his time split between earth and infernal planes from his early teens. He’s the largest personality and the leader of the pack if you will, but he’s also the bleeding heart always taking in strays it’s in his nature

Hunter (WIP last name)- infernal witch 3/4 human 1/4 incubus on their mother’s side, they’re half a year older than Jekyll, They/Them, a bit heavy on the sarcasm but very approachable/caring. Shorter light hair, they tend to dye it vibrant hues but it is naturally a whitish color, somewhat pale with no noticeable blemishes save for hidden enchanted tattoos. Their eyes are a light blue with a violet shift, more prominent when they’re practicing magic or using their demonic influence. They grew up with their dad as a single parent, summoned Jekyll when they realized they had bloodline magic and wanted to have a friend around that would understand since other kids saw them as weird with their mom’s mysterious background. Definitely an enabler and sarcastic best friend type, a bit more parental of the group but will encourage dumbass behavior too

Adora “D” Nova- succubus, she’s the youngest though only by a few months and still in her late-mid 20’s, She/Her, a ray of sunshine guaranteed to lighten the mood when she steps into the room she’s also the most emotionally intelligent/developed. Split color hair falls past her shoulders in a shag cut, one side a deep copper and the other a medium warm blonde dyed or natural she’ll never tell, her light skin has a few beauty marks and a dark gothic winged heart tattoo on her lower stomach. (She’ll tell you it’s a “succubus birth mark” but she got it tattooed on a dare on Earth when she was 19) Her eyes tend to shift color depending on the environment and if she’s exerting any influence, they’re normally a deep burnt maroon red that lighten to a brighter raspberry pink when using her talents. She also grew up on the infernal plane and made friends with Jekyll when they were late teens, eventually sparked up a romantic relationship in their young adult into early 20s that’s more or less on again off again because the lines between friends and lovers has already been blurred. She hangs out with the pack as often as possible, though she does pop back and forth between the planes more than anyone else she makes plenty of time to drag the crew along to seedy dive bars for post punk shows on the regular and they all blend right in

Zeke (WIP last name)- ((more of a secondary muse if you have good rp ideas it helps to bring his muse out!)) demon? (He refuses to disclose), he says he’s the oldest by a year but he’s cagey about the exact numbers late 20s, He/Him, unsettling and occasionally uncanny yet he’s the comic relief of any tense situation. He also frequently dyes his hair, typically shades of muted blues and greens, it’s trimmed tight on the sides and loose on top purposefully messy, he sports a tan that comes and goes with the seasons when he isn’t pasty white. His eyes are a light brown with metallic flakes that catch in the light, it doesn’t seem they glow or change at all with talent use but there is a sharpness to them that’s otherworldly even among hellhounds and other-planar beasts. He met the group on earth when they were all 19-21 ish at a house show and they clicked instantly, he mostly hangs out with the group and prefers to not be on his own unless he’s set on a mission (usually it’s a snack run- this man can eat). He’s dodgy about personal information and can be generally unsettling to be around if you’re unfamiliar with him, but he does his best to quell those feelings in other people when he speaks to them.

#⋆♱⋅⟡⋅♱⋆ queue #⋆♱⋅⟡⋅♱⋆ voice of god -- OOC posting #//THEY ARE FREE FROM MY BRAIN AGAIN #// pls pls pls if you want any of them lmk I love em lots and I’ve got more time with holiday this week to actually write yippie #// also they have so many different verses this is just going to be their new “main” for all intents and purposes!

[starry-skies-116]

Miko Nakadai Facts (Reboot AU:)

Sixteen years old, Japanese American, heir to multibillion dollar weapons and energy company Nakadai Industries and the illegitimate child of CEO Yoshiro Nakadai and his secretary Sonya Wang. Her defining traits are straightened tresses of jet black hair and bright, piercing copper eyes. At the start of the show, she dresses in more formal clothing- a blazer, a pencil skirt and an insufferably high ponytail- and she doesn't have her iconic pink hair streaks yet.

***

She comes across as cold and arrogant, but hides a softer side to her personality beneath. She serves as a little bit of a foil to Jack in some areas- academic, diligent, determined and resourceful- but due to them both being rather emotional, impulsive and dramatic, they often enable each other's antics and get into trouble more often than not. They're practically the definition of "sharing a braincell."

***

She's also a part-time reporter that works for a tabloid newspaper called "The Daily Blaze." It's mentioned a few times that a mild-mannered and timid man named Craig is her editor, who freaks out every time he learns that she risked her life to get front-page material for her article.

***

Unlike the original version of Miko Nakadai, this version of Miko didn't have a loving family- her upbringing actually stunted her development and her empathy. A childhood of constant emotional and even sometimes physical abuse at the hands of her controlling parents has left her bitter and cynical. She was forced to suppress her interests and her autistic traits, rendering her lonely but also heavily distrustful of others.

***

At first, she's harsh- bitter and angry at the world. She responds to any attempts at socializing with quick and blunt responses. She sometimes does and says things that are outright evil, in the sense that they wouldn't be too far from what a bully would do. She doesn't understand how the consequences of her actions would affect other people because she constantly acts on the anger that poisoned her at such a young age.

***

She's also very vindictive and quick to snap, responding to anyone wronging her with retribution- even if it hurts her. She even lets a coworker get robbed because of how they insensitively mocked her for her rich background- and when they tearfully confront her about it, she coldly throws their own words back at them, saying: “I missed the part where that’s my problem.”

***

This is why her dyeing her hair and changing her clothes to a more 'punk rock' style holds a much more personal meaning to her- those pink streaks and space buns are symbolic of her letting go of her anger and reclaiming her freedom back from her oppressors as she turns her life around for the better. It represents a new beginning for her- one that the kindness of those around her had given her.

***

Her dynamic with Bulkhead, as a consequence, is reversed- instead of her being the one to encourage him to let loose and get into trouble, it's basically the other way around. She's done with the Wreckers' shit at first, but really, she's never felt more free than when she's around them.

***

She likes punk rock and shoujo anime, and is a huge cat person. She used to run a podcast before it was taken down by her parents- which is why she begged them for a job opportunity anyways. They did do a nice thing for her- the collaborative broadcast- but they only did it just so she could shut up. A similar incident happened in the past with her electric guitar, with them throwing it out.

***

She has two older half-siblings- Himeko and Sora, both of whom are twins that are in college. They were both born from Yoshiro's first and only marriage that spiraled and ended in a divorce, and pretty much raised her way better than her parents ever did.

*** She wears full sleeves because she has to hide the bruises on her arms that she gets from her parents sometimes- when the Autobots first discover how she's being abused via the bruise on her wrist, Bulkhead's immediately ready to commit ten felonies for his human and then some.

#transformers #transformers au #transformers reboot au #tfp #transformers prime #tfp au #miko nakadai #transformers oc

[self-loving-vampire]

Thank you for your post on NPD!

I had a parent who suffered from it, like a lot of people. It was agonizing watching them continually destroy their own life, and knowing they were probably the common cause, but unable to stop.

They died relatively young as a result, miserable and alone, and there's basically no way to feel anything without also feeling an overwhelming sense of hurt and sadness for them, because they certainly didn't want to be that way.

It's extremely important to acknowledge the damage they did to others -- damage that will long outlive them -- but that doesn't mean they weren't also a victim of their own condition.

I think the core of the issue with NPD is similar to the issue with autism: The narrative is pretty much fully controlled by people who don't have the disorder or really know what it's like, so they end up in echo chambers where they convince themselves that somehow a disorder that can make people feel worthless when they are less than perfect or perfectly pleasing (as is the case with C-PTSD and other conditions that come from trauma) is somehow not painful to the person suffering from it, who is just assumed to be evil for the sake of being evil and has no emotions beyond malice.

Not helping matters is that I notice that there seems to have been a change in discussions of abuse, with practically all of it being pinned on this one disorder to the point of making "narcissist" a synonym for "abuser" even though that doesn't work out demographically given how common child abuse is.

I remember that when I was growing up a lot of what now gets called "narcissistic abuse" used to just be called "abuse". If any qualifiers were added to it they usually referred to the type of actions taken by the abuser (emotional abuse, sexual abuse, financial abuse, etc.) rather than whatever personality disorders they were imagined as having.

I get the impression that this also results in people having a twisted perception of NPD as "evil person disorder" and literally caused by demons (some people do believe that sincerely).

The most troubling thing is that when people pin all evil on this one condition, which often a result of abuse in itself, they also neglect thinking too deeply about the wider social issues that encourage and enable it (most notably the extremely ancient and widespread idea of children as property of their parents and the family being a system of domination in which children are often expected to be violently "trained" into decent behavior).

The fact that the people who are most vocal about quite literally demonizing NPD are so often pro-spanking conservative Christians rambling about satanic conspiracies and "the Jezebel Spirit" is also enough to make me suspect some amount of misdirection is involved, consciously or not.

After all, if you blame abuse on external forces and mentally ill individuals like that rather than accepting it as a consequence of the values you endorse then you can keep the image of the church and the family clean.

It somewhat reminds me of when certain people started trying to blame school shootings on autism. It felt like blatant scapegoating.

#long post

[hopelesscatdad]

K time for me to divulge the basics of my OCs relationship dynamics.

Milo(Dodge Ram) x Jasmine(Smart Car):

Jasmine never wanted to be with a truck. She often avoided them if she could. The whole size difference, in every sense of the comparison, was often joked about, in sfw and nsfw ways, and very often the jokes and teasing were directed at her by male trucks. By the time she was 13-14 she was sick of it, and tended to avoid trucks in general if she could.

So when in eleventh grade she noticed a dark Blue truck often watching her, waving at her, and smiling at the sight of her, she was immediately wary of another creep.

This culminated one night when they both ended up at the same house party with their respective friend groups, everyone wasted. Milo's friends were encouraging him and trying to get him to go over and talk to Jasmine, leaving him smiling and often glancing her way. In contrast, Jasmines friends were taking advantage of her anger again, feeding into her paranoia, and goading her into being impulsive and to give the creep truck a piece of her mind. She did, in a fit of anger going up to him and challenging him to a game of Chicken of all things. Milo wasn't sure why she was so angry, but found it cute and agreed. He lost the game, he knew he would. He couldn't find it in him to actually risk hurting her. He went home that night hoping his infatuation with her and her fireball spirit was just the alcohol. It was not. She went home that night convinced she proved him wrong.

They didn't interact again until a couple of weeks later. Milo watched her hurriedly flee their one shared class right before the bell rang, unusual for her, and came up with an excuse to ditch class as well to go find her. He found her mid breakdown, frustrated and angry at everything going on. He pulled up next to her and waited silently, only for her to eventually wail at him to "fuck off and leave me alone you creep!"

He complied, happy to have an excuse to try and cut off his feelings for her. He knew she was chaotic and emotional and wild and it wouldn't be smart to get involved in that. The problem is she saw him actually leave her alone the next two weeks, never even glancing at her, and only then did it click he was different. He was interested, sure. But he wasn't after he in that way. So she invited him to hang out with her and her friends, and he agreed. The rest is history.

Their first kiss was spurred on by her anger. He kept hanging out with her, never making a lewd comment but always happy to be near. Was he interested? Was he not? Why did she care? She knew why she cared. Why wasn't he a creep like she thought? Eventually one day while they were alone she angrily confronted him, practically yelling "why are you so kind to me?" Before lifting up and kissing him, completely shocking him. As she realized what she did, he moved a tire to cup her fender, then went in for his own gentle kiss. She melted into it. That was the start of their relationship.

The high-school years were tumultuous. She was at the worst of her anger, often exploding at the world and often at him too. Add her self confidence issues with not having any direction compared to him with his sports and plans for college... but he never invalidated her feelings, and also listened to her once she calmed down, which was more than her parents ever did, so she opened up to his suggestions on ways to better manage her anger by the time college rolled around.

She followed him to college, and weasled her way into a temporary in campus lobby job despite not being a student. This set up enabled her to freeload the college social experience, not that Milo minded. He was actually happy to see her get a fresh start away from her parents, and away from her friends that really never treated her well and often abused her anger.

Eventually they pulled through College as well, and, having not gone pro, Milo ends up as a trainer in the city they were at anyways. This is how she ends up with that mall makeup store position to help contribute financially. By now they've been together for 6 years, and are finally settling down into something of a possible future together. Her anger has mellowed out some(unless you insult someone she cares about), but her emotional intensity and impulsiveness stay strong. Milo has learned to stand his ground more, and that plans not working out is okay, but he's still just as gentle and caring as ever, especially towards Jasmine.

Anyways that's all for now I'll fill out that ship ask with these two later. But also if anyone just has questions in general about these two please ask I will so happily answer. Also brief nsfw mention down below for those who I know are probably curious.

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Yes. They do the do. It's not perfect or easy but they make it work.

#pixar cars #disney pixar cars #oc #jasmine smart #Milo Ram #I'm unhealthily obsessed with these two rn #already writing about them in a story

[klapollo]

something i see discussed in eating disorder support spaces a lot that i feel like a lot of people dont know about or consider is the way abusers (oftentimes partners from what i've seen but parents and even friends come up a lot) will weaponize someone's ED or poor body image to denigrate them or enable self-harm. it feels like literally every single day someone comes to edanonymous and posts about how their boyfriend knowingly says they looked better when they were starving themselves to death, or encouraging their ED behaviors, or purposefully saying how they want them to be as thin as possible so they'll be desirable.

on the sister sub, edanonymemes -- a lighthearted place often used to laugh at the ridiculousness of ed logic or commiserate or cope with humor -- every few days someone will post a "meme" about how their spouse who knows about their ED told them to go on a diet, or how their partner cheated on them and told them they're undesirable after gaining weight back in recovery.

on places like twitter, adults have to warn the children to stay away from "ana coaches" because there's a dedicated contingency of people who will take advantage of anorexic girls' desire for motivation to abuse them and get naked pictures of them in the form of bodychecks.

the people on these forums often beg the OPs to get out, to protect themselves, but there's only so much that strangers on the internet can do. it's just so bleak.

there's a lot of factors at play here. fatphobia making saying a lot of this shit FEEL normal, for example, but misogyny in particular has a huge role. the way EDs thrive partially bc of our social ills is even worse than most people even imagine.

#emotional abuse cw #eating disorder cw #fatphobia cw

[advacademy]

How to Prepare Your Child for the School Admission Interview

Introduction

Every school in the world now, specially private schools, organizes pre-admission interviews. They were asking not only high school students, but even very young children about their basic readiness to start school. Now, the story is not about adults but children.

Because it’s hard to teach a young child everything and also have a good first impression. We are looking at this article for information on how to prepare your child for the interview. As the Best School in Indore helps students grow academically and personally.

 School Interview Tips for Children

Let us now find out about the top tips and tricks that can help parents prepare their children well for school interviews.

1.  Research the School:

Before the interview, thoroughly research the school your child is applying to. Familiarize yourself with the school's values, mission, and educational approach. This knowledge will enable you to align your child's interests and experiences with the school's philosophy, showcasing a genuine interest in their educational community.

2. Practice Interview Questions:

3. Focus on Communication Skills:

Effective communication is essential during an interview. Help your child develop strong verbal and non-verbal communication skills. Encourage them to maintain eye contact, speak clearly and fluently, and actively listen to the interviewer's questions. Practicing good posture and body language will also convey confidence and engagement.

4. Highlight Achievements and Experiences:

Encourage your child to showcase their achievements, extracurricular activities, and community involvement. Discuss their experiences in leadership roles, teamwork, and any notable projects they have undertaken. This will demonstrate their  thoughts and highlight their ability to contribute positively to the school's community.

5. Encourage Critical Thinking:

Schools often look for students who possess critical thinking skills. Help your child develop their analytical and problem-solving abilities by engaging them in discussions about current events, literature, or scientific discoveries. Encourage them to express their opinions and support them with logical reasoning.

6. Teach Resilience:

Preparing for a school admission interview can be stressful. Teach your child how to manage anxiety and stress by practicing relaxation techniques such as deep breathing and positive visualization. Remind them that setbacks are a natural part of life, and encourage them to learn from their experiences and persevere.

7. Dress Appropriately:

Ensure your child is dressed appropriately for the interview. Opt for neat and comfortable attire that reflects their respect for the occasion. Avoid overly casual or flashy clothing choices, as they may create a negative impression.

8. Practice Time Management:

Punctuality is crucial during the interview process. Teach your child the importance of arriving early, allowing time to settle and compose themselves before the interview begins. This will demonstrate their respect for others' time and showcase their responsibility.

Conclusion

Preparing your child for a school admission interview requires careful planning and support. By following these tips, you can help your child feel confident, articulate their thoughts effectively, and make a positive impression on the interviewers. Remember, the key is to encourage your child to be themselves and showcase their unique qualities. With thorough preparation and a boost in their confidence, your child will be well-equipped to navigate the school admission interview successfully.

#Best Schools in Indore #List of CBSE schools in India #Top 10 schools in Indore #Best CBSE school in India #Best Academy in Indore #Best Tips Prepare Your Child For The School Admission #Best Way to Prepare Your Child For The School Interview

[scotianostra]

August 4th 1870 saw the birth of the entertainer Harry Lauder in Portobello.

Harry was the eldest of seven children, Harry’s parents were John Lauder, a master potter, Porty was famous for it’s pottery works back in the day, the family moved to Derbyshire in 1882 where John Lauder was going to design china. However, he died on 20th April and they had to move to Isabella’s parents’ home in Arbroath

When Harry left school aged about 12 he went to work in a flax mill.  The family then moved to Hamilton where Harry worked in a coal mine.  In 1891 he married Ann Vallance, daughter of the manager of the mine.

Harry’s fellow-workers, who whom he often sang, encouraged him to sing in local music halls.  He joined a concert party and began touring, which enabled him to give up his job at the coal mine.  By 1894 Harry had turned professional and was singing in London venues..

Though a few other songs contend for a place among his best, Roamin’ In The Gloamin’ seems to be the one most often remembered. and even nowadays must be one of the best known songs written in and about Scotland, come on everyone knows it,

Roamin’ in the gloamin’ on the bonnie banks o’ Clyde.

Roamin’ in the gloamin’ wae my lassie by my side.

When the sun has gone to rest,

That’s the time we love the best.

O, it’s lovely roamin’ in the gloamin.

On 28th December 1916, Harry’s only son John Lauder who was a Captain in the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, was killed at Pozières.   Harry wrote the song “Keep Right on till the end of the Road” in memory of him.   Captain Lauder was buried at Ovillers, France and his father had a memorial placed in his son’s memory in Glenbranter, the Lauder family home in Scotland.

For his many services to the war effort, Harry was knighted in 1919.  Lady Lauder died in July 1927 and Harry continued to tour, sing and write songs.  He retired in 1935.  Apart from his songs, Harry also wrote several books and appeared in several films.   He came out of retrieved in the Second World War, entertained troops in Britain and also took part in radio broadcasts.

Sir Harry Lauder died on 26th February 1950, the pics show him in with stars of the day on which he was on a par with, I love Stan Laurels walking stick!!

#Scotland #scottish #entertainer. #film star #Singer #history #music hall

[cherumie]

i have some hcs about Grelle's pre-reaper life, which i have formed over years upon years of thinking about her 24/7. Bear with me, I'm sick so my brain can't think of the right words to use, and this is very unstructured and full of gaps (which id be happy to fill) because it's my first time talking about this to anyone and idk what I should and shouldn't mention. tw for period-typical queerphobia, mentions of abuse and suicide (because, you know, shinigami):

She was the eldest child. To me, the eldest of three, but the number isn't that important. Her family was well-off but not influential. I am undecided on this, but i lean towards them being comfortable because of her dad's occupation (trade???? medicine????), rather than a noble title.

I just know she was a clever little smartass as a kid! She wouldn't focus on any subject that bored her, but to me she was always very witty, athletic, and a fan of the arts, although her temper and capricious nature were present ever since she was little. She probably had some dark traits and crueler instincts even as a kid, but 1) it was nowhere near as bad as it is in canon, and 2) it was enabled by an overbearing mother and a dad who uhhh,,, will be explained as we go.

She adored her mother, who was a sweet, mild-mannered woman. They were inseperable throughout her childhood, and her mother encouraged her to be herself and was accepting of her feminine/flamboyant mannerisms and habits (something her dad did not like at all). I want to think that Grelle's mom love her throughout her life, even when it hurt, but her passive nature didn't let her interfere and help her child.

And here comes my favourite topic; Grelle's dad! Imo, he sucked, in a period-typical bigot way. I think of him as a hot-headed but otherwise intelligent man (as intelligent as someone like him can be), who had the biggest inferiority complex because of his humble origins (immigrant/working class parents and stuff). This made him obsessed with securing his legacy through an heir, so he really pushed Grelle to act the way he expected an heir should act. After a certain age, they would fight over Grelle's behaviour and identity, and he would often resort to violence to make sure she wouldn't "act up" in public or do anything that would result in him losing face (because i do have a mean streak, i like to think that she's the spitting image of him; same hair and eyes, similar features and build, similar personality and temperament. Even though she's stuck at a fairly young age and she definitely inherited the grace and some delicate details from her mom, the resemblance is uncanny. You know, because im a sucker for the "resembling someone you despise" trope, it makes everything worse when you think about it).

So it basically started to get bad after Grelle turned like, 10? 11? The time kids are sent to boarding school, and when puberty first hits. I think her dad turned a blind eye to her clearly being trans and having different ambitions than what he wanted because he thought it was just his Kid being a Kid and that she would outgrow it. After he realised that wasn't going to happen, he'll broke loose. Now I think that something happened in her mid teens, probably a breakdown, an especially big fight, an event of sorts, that made her snap under the pressure and finally start playing by her father's rules. Imo I see her adopting a persona that has qualities from both butler Grelle and OVA Grelle (which I'd love to expand on but it's an entire post in itself). She maintained the qualities her father thought valuable, but never questioned him or went against his wishes in any way.

This went on for around a decade, until she became a reaper (in canon she's in her late twenties to early thirties when that happens). I would blame that on a steady mental decline; she turned inwards, escaped through fiction, and some of the tendencies that were already there (i don't want to give them a term; im not a psychiatrist, and even though i have my theories about Grelle's mental landscape, again, whole other post) met some growing delusions and a ton of repression and resentment, and it obviously didn't mix well. Even though she could mostly keep it to herself in the beginning, it became more and more obvious that she was slipping away as she entered her mid-twenties.

I think she became a reaper because of an impulsive thought or an event that she magnified in her head to a catastrophic degree, or again as a result of a breakdown. We know from canon that she often acts before she thinks, and that she can have extreme reactions to things according to her mood. I know people used to think about how she went through with it a lot, but I honestly have no idea. I want to say that she killed her dad before she did it, but it might be too gratifying and self-indulgent so I am not decided on that yet.

Aaand that's p much it?? Like that's a very general version of it because I've already forced you to read all that. Thank you sm for your time, I would love to read more hcs about our girl, and to also expand on specific areas of mine if i get the chance. I love our oc Grelle Sutcliff 🥰

(ill star signing these as anon mo if that's okay!)

I was planning on picking apart this ask & giving my own take on ur headcanons but I just decided that that's too hard so I'm just gonna post it like this lol

But anyways YES I LOVE IT. It's obvious that you think about this a lot & I thank you for sharing ur brain with me 😌 It's so interesting how pretty much every fan has a different version of Grelle and her backstory in our heads. I would love to hear other people's personal takes on her!

( and yeah ofc that's okay! nice to meet you :) )

#sorry i couldn't give a more in depth response #im very very very burnt out right now bc of irl stuff (´-﹏-`；) #Kuroshitsuji #black butler #ask #anon #grell sutcliff #grelle sutcliff