#Neglect tw

[liketolaugh-writes]

Running a brief analysis of the Drakes vs (my conception of) the Fentons. It's fun.

Danny- My Parents Were Not Neglectful

Tim- I need you to understand that parents aren't supposed to poison their kids

It's not that Tim pities Danny, exactly? But I feel like Danny's incessant denial would bother him. He's like, I'm not here to tell you how to feel about all this, but Your Parents Absolutely Were Neglectful. Which is a tough thing to hear from Mr. My Parents Left Me Home Alone For Six Months.

Emotionally, the Fentons' pre-portal neglect probably had a lot fewer lasting effects on Danny, but there's a lot to be said for growing up in a house that was unsafe from the beginning.

Tim- Your House Had Traps In It

Danny- no it was just kind of messy

Tim- you tripped on wires and died

Danny- I Told You Not To Talk About That

As far as Tim is concerned, his parents loved him (wanted him to have the best of everything, wanted him to be happy and safe, wanted wanted wanted) but not enough to be physically or emotionally present - his dad didn't seem to know how even when he was trying. And Danny's parents loved him enough to be physically and emotionally present, but they sure as hell didn't seem to care if he was safe.

Danny- they were very protective of me!

Tim- they left unlabeled acid on the kitchen counter

Danny- I knew not to touch anything in a beaker

Tim- from experience?

Danny-

Danny- maybe

All of the post-portal shenanigans are a much messier issue that Tim isn't going to touch with a ten foot pole, but this is something he feels qualified to talk about. It's a very emotional conversation though. They're in very different places when it comes to accepting what their parents did wrong.

[poemsandghosts]

grieving the version of myself I was never allowed to be

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

thinking about nonverbal people who died because of… abuse, neglect, hate crime—by caregiver & PCA & carer, by doctors, by staff, by professionals, by education people, by strangers… suicide…

& thinking about nonverbal people who died maybe not directly because them but while these happening

all those who even after death their story be (re)written by people who killed them. who led to their death. who stood there n allowed these deaths to happen.

[nonverbal = all the time only. not episode not go nonverbal.]

[genderkoolaid]

This happened in 2022, but I didn't hear about it then. A teenage Black trans boy with multiple disabilities was murdered by neglect by his transphobic parents. He was also misgendered by the media when it was first reported, which is unfortunately unsurprising.

[irondad-defensesquad]

even if we're just dancing in the dark

In which Tony has a bad dream, Peter hasn't slept at all, and they're two stubborn idiots. Also on AO3!

TRIGGER WARNINGS: past abuse and neglect, bad dream/nightmare, and implied/referenced alcoholism.

DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/roship DNI.

--

It’s dark and cold. Chilling cold.

It’s all black and white. Only black and white. Tony sees no gray. He sees no stars, either. Only white snow.

He searches for any other color, preferably any orange, warm fire, the smell of hot cocoa… any welcoming home.

Tony, finally, encounters a payphone. Unfortunately, it’s not inside a cabin. He has some change left and he calls the first person on his mind. The one person who misses him when he’s gone. The one person who always picks him up, no matter how long it takes.

“H-Hello? J?” Tony is freezing so damn much, it hurts. “C-Can you come p-pick me up? He… He k-kicked me out of the car… M-Made me walk… Please, I’m cold…”

He doesn’t receive any reply.

“I-I’m- I’m in the middle of the road. I can’t… see anything, b-but I know I’m not anywhere near home. I s-see a bench, though.”

Tony receives no questions. Least of all any concern from the other end. He hears nothing, not even the ringing. Not even breathing. But someone is there, right?

“J-Jarvis?” He calls. He sounds like the little kid who would go to his butler after having a bad dream, or after Howard screamed at him again.

He waits for a “yes, sir?” or “Master”. Or just “Tony”. Anything.

But…

“Jarvis…?” Tony’s voice is higher, about to break into tears. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Jarvis?

Don’t leave me, buddy.

--

He wakes up crying.

Tony doesn’t remember the last time he cried after a bad dream. It must’ve been after his parents died, as well as after Jarvis was deceased.

He’s near his fifties and yet he feels like a little kid.

Tony realizes he’s in his room, upstate. He’s home, not anywhere near a blizzard. He’s safe here.

But he’s alone tonight. Pepper is working abroad.

He’s not having an anxiety attack. No, he’s just…

Sad.

Tony curls up in a ball, hugging himself fiercely, yet hiding from the world. He keeps it down, or else Howard is going to open that door with the most violence possible and scream at how worthless his pathetic excuse for a Stark son is.

But then, like Tony usually does, he can’t stay in his bedroom. He often tiptoes to the kitchen – or, in his later years, his workshop. Not his father’s. Tony briefly looks at the time – it’s almost 3 AM. Sighing, he leaves his bed and goes out to another sleepless night.

He figures it’s best not to bother Pepper, considering the time zone. Same counts for Rhodey and Happy, despite them readily talking to Tony whenever he needs.

It must have something do with the topic of the dream.

Tony has told others about the nightmares where he loses everyone he cares about, or a potential end of the world where he’s the only one left alive. But never the ones about his deepest fears: of never being enough, of his father’s words, of the smell of alcohol, things breaking and exploding…

Sometimes, they’re scarier than the usual superhero baggage.

Either way, Tony makes his way to the kitchen to either drink water or make coffee. He hasn’t decided yet.

He passes by the workshop, and…

The lights are on.

Did he forget them on or-

No, there’s music playing. And it’s definitely not AC/DC.

Tony makes a detour, wanting to understand what’s happening. If he did leave everything on or if someone is in there, indeed.

When he goes inside, it’s “I Wanna Be Sedated” by The Ramones playing. It’s not very loud.

And someone’s humming along the music…

“Just get me to the airport, put me on a plane, hurry, hurry, hurry, before I go insane, I can't control my fingers, I can't control my brain, oh, no, oh, oh, oh, ho…”

A teenage boy happens to be hanging from upside down, reading a book and rubbing his pencil against his head. He’s quick to notice Tony in the lab.

“… Oh! Mr. Stark! I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Peter smiles nervously, getting down from the ceiling.

So, two things: 1) Tony completely forgot that Peter was staying over tonight, and 2) Why is he up at 3 in the morning?

“Mr. Stark?” Peter’s smile disappears. “Are you okay?”

Albeit confused, Tony frowns and questions, “Why aren’t you in bed, mister?”

“Why aren’t you?” Peter puts his hands on his hips, looking far goofier than ever serious.

“Answer me first.”

“But I asked firster than you!”

“Firster- have you even slept at all?”

“What about you? You look spooked, Mr. Stark! Did you have a bad dream or something?”

“I’m the adult here, just answer me already! Why are you up at this goddamn hour?”

“Jeez, Mr. Stark, it’s not even school night, why do you bother?”

“Because someone never tells me what’s going on until I have to find out for myself!”

“Okay, when you’re ready to talk, let me know,” Peter just jumps and returns upside down.

Tony groans. “Do not go upside down on me, young man.”

“Everything is fine, Mr. Stark! I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?”

“‘Why’ why? Why do you ask so many questions?”

“Peter, I literally just woke up, stop being a pain in my ass already.”

The teenager pretends to be reading whatever book he has, refusing to look Tony in the eye. Yeah, something is definitely going on with him, too bad Peter is too much of a stubborn little shit to trust his own mentor.

“God, you’re fucking impossible,” Tony gives up and sits on the couch. Dang, he needs coffee.

… Turns out Peter made some coffee, now that he smells it. The coffee maker is not too far from there.

Sighing, Tony takes his mug and gets some coffee for himself. The first sip seems to calm him down. No one ever understood his relationship with black, bitter coffee.

… Even though he knows Peter put a bit more sugar in it. Tony doesn’t mind it, though.

He glares at the teenager, who’s still up there, doing the silent treatment. Meanwhile, “Pretend We’re Dead” by L7 plays in the background. Peter goes back to his humming – he seems to be taking notes in the book. Tony will assume that’s just his homework.

Tony just… “vibes” there. Mostly because Peter won’t say a damn thing.

The music selection seems to tell it for him.

Garbage’s “I Think I’m Paranoid”.

Then Van Halen’s “Jump”.

Peter hums the songs with passion.

Tony, as concerned as he is, notices that the boy is wearing those Hello Kitty pants again. Peter loves saying he hated them, but here they are.

Suddenly, it’s Bruce Springsteen.

“Dancing in the Dark”.

By far the saddest one.

How the hell does Peter dance upside down without feeling sick?

Tony sighs again, seeing that DUM-E is dancing along. A sad dance as well.

His grumpiness, having recovered thanks to the coffee, mostly disappears. Tony may only move his feet along with the music.

Hell, Tony used to hear this a lot when he was Peter’s age (or close to it).

…

“Even if we’re just dancing in the dark… Even if we’re just dancing in the dark…”

For once, Peter turns around to Tony. He isn’t smiling.

The man doesn’t yell at him again. He just gestures at the coffee and drinks another sip.

Not too long after, Peter gets down again. He leaves the book aside and takes his own cup.

“Can I… sit here?” The boy asks, referring to the free space on the couch.

Tony shrugs. “Knock yourself out.”

They sit together in silence. Peter is rather stiff.

They drink coffee simultaneously.

It’s almost funny. They do that without even trying.

“… Um…” Peter gulps. He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Silence.

“… I couldn’t sleep ‘cause… I dunno, sometimes there’s so much in my head, y’know?” Peter explains, awkwardly. “It’s a lot- a lot of things. I didn’t want to be in my room so I thought I could distract myself.”

Tony hums. “I take it that it’s school too, right,” he guesses.

“Yeah. There’s this test coming up… I’m scared I’m gonna screw up, so I just- I just wanted to be prepared.”

“You could’ve asked me to help you—”

“It’s nothing we do here, honestly. It’s English.”

“I can still help with that. I’m not an outsider in other subjects.”

“C’mon, you don’t have to—”

“Peter,” Tony inhales before getting mad again, “I just want you to remember you don’t have to do everything by yourself. If you need help, you can ask me or ask someone else.”

The teen doesn’t protest.

“… Yeah, I know.”

Tony doesn’t reply with a snarky comment or a scoff.

“And you can let me know when you can’t sleep, either,” he says instead. “Especially if something is bothering you.”

Peter may not outright accept, but he’s not completely avoiding the offer, either.

“… You can tell me when something is bothering you, too, Mr. Stark,” the arachnid says. “I know you’re the adult, but then who’s looking out for you?”

“It’s not your job, kid.”

“Yeah, but… you don’t have to, like, put a façade when I’m around. I’m not gonna think any less of you.”

Tony wants to shake his head, but he doesn’t. He wants to cry, too. He wants to cry because of these little puppy eyes that care about him no matter what. Tony certainly doesn’t want to use the kid for his own problems… But coming here helps.

The man puts his free arm around the couch, somewhat inviting Peter to sit closer if he wants.

“… Well… You know my dad,” Tony begins. “He was cold, he never wanted me around, I could never live up to him… So the thing is, in my dream, I relived this one time where… we were returning home from a party – my dad and me. I was drunk. We were both drunk, honestly. But Howard acted like I was the fucked-up alcoholic, that I embarrassed him. I don’t remember well what I said to him, but whatever it was, it was enough for him to kick me out of the car and force me to walk all the way home.”

Peter tenses, listening to all of this.

“I remember yelling right before he left,” Tony continues, “‘Yeah, you know what, I don’t need you! I never did!’. And I was alone. In the freezing snow, with no coat on, because he simply did not care. So, I walked. I was so freaking cold. I was crying and it hurt a lot. I was lucky to find a payphone so I could call my butler, Jarvis. He was the only one there for me at home, from the very beginning. Even then, I had to wait for him, lying on a bench. For a second, I thought Jarvis was going to give up on me, too. ‘Cause he’d been dealing with my bullshit for who knows how long. But no… first thing he did, was wrap me up in two coats, and he took me to his home, so I didn’t have to face my parents’ disappointment. He didn’t get angry at me, and I couldn’t understand why… But I knew I could count on him, always.”

There’s a few seconds of silence before Peter sits a little closer in curiosity.

“Wow. You… never really told me about Jarvis.”

“Jarvis… He was…” too good for me. “He was an actual father to me.” And I feel like I never really told him that.

Peter looks contemplative.

“Jarvis reminds me of you.”

Tony immediately looks at the kid, shocked.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’d do the same for me. Well, you already do.”

…

“Well… In the dream,” Tony clarifies, “Jarvis gave up on me. So I just… lied in that cold bench, all on my own.”

Peter looks pained for him. Then he replies:

“I’m glad he didn’t, in reality."

Tony gazes at him. Peter is smiling yet tearing up.

“I’m also glad you didn’t give up on me,” the latter whispers, briefly looking away in shame.

Dang it. This kid is going to make him cry again.

But in the good way.

Tony, instinctively, wraps Peter in a hug. Which shocks the teenager.

“Is this- happening??”

“Yes, Peter. It’s happening.”

“Oh.” The boy awkwardly hugs Tony back. “Are you crying?”

“It’s good tears, kid.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks.”

“… Y-Yeah. Thank you, too.”

Tony doesn’t break down like before, but he lets himself cry quietly. He rubs Peter’s back up and down, until he reaches the back of Peter’s head to smooth his curls. The other is still a little unsure how to react, though he eventually relaxes and doesn’t care much about it.

Finally, Tony releases him and pats one of his shoulders.

“… You wanna watch a movie?”

“Oh, sure!”

“I can make popcorn and there’s still ice cream left.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.”

“You can pick the movie.”

“Awesome, yeah, yeah.”

And of course, Tony hands him his old MIT sweater, noticing that Peter is cold.

At one point, not too long after… Peter has fallen asleep.

Tony doesn’t, but at least he gets to look after the kid, and thus take him to bed.

After smiling fondly, Tony leaves Peter’s room.

After that, he revisits some old family pictures. Specifically the ones with Jarvis. They never had many solo pictures together, unless they were taken by Ana, Jarvis’ wife.

He needs to frame these. Tony is Jarvis’ son, after all.

[cattenburg]

minkie pie after living in a rat infested cellar with no exercise and being severely malnourished, and yet still being incredibly strong physically and having a sleek, flat mane with zero matting, lice or knots

[starlit-harbor-citizens]

This is really just a personal ramble about my experience with plurality, and a positive experience with a friend of ours. There is a VERY brief mention of neglect, but it's not going into detail. There's also mentions of fakeclaiming and fakeclaimers, so take this as a warning!

Yesterday I actually had a really positive experience with a friend and talking about being plural? We both are plural in our own ways, and I won't go into the details of their plurality because that's just disrespectful and an invasion of their privacy.

However, I feel like they'd really like the pro Endo side of Tumblr, because a lot of what we talked about really was in support of non-traumagenic plurality. I remember a part of that conversation really consisted of us just saying "Who's to say that the human brain can't just do that in abnormal situations?"

Now, to further on what's meant by "abnormal situations", examples of that are, obviously, trauma, but also severe isolation. Hell, willing a system into existence could be considered abnormal. Obviously, there's 10 million things that could fit into that category of abnormal situations, but these three are just the examples I can think of off of my head.

It was just nice to know that someone we know outside of our psys also agrees that plurality is possible without trauma. We've had to deal with fakeclaimers, and associated ourselves at one point with said fakeclaimers (never again) because we just wanted a sense of community with plurality. Seeing harmful ideals like that really affected us, and we still struggle with the thought of "What if we are faking?" It's hard to deal with, and definitely a part of us that we're going to have to work on healing.

I've acknowledged that our system most likely doesn't fall under DID or OSDD standards. We didn't receive heavy formative childhood trauma, the most is a bit of neglect from our caretaker at the time from what our birth giver told us. It's taken me a while since syscovery to acknowledge that "yeah, no, your origins are in some way, non-traumagenic". That thought, when we were first discovering our system about a year ago and only knew about traumagenic plurality, meant that we were faking. We knew we weren't faking, as our experience was very real. It's taken us up until very recently to acknowledge that it's okay to not be fully traumagenic, and that we're not fully traumagenic.

We tried for a while to rationalize us being traumagenic, but that's really not the case. And, that's okay. I'm okay with that now. My conversation with that friend of ours brought up these feelings, in general. If anyone reads through this all the way, I appreciate you for reading my insane ramblings lol (/silly). But, seriously. It's okay to be non-traumagenic in origin. Plurality can just... Happen, willed in or not. Thanks for coming to my ted talk lol

-Ambrose

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

thinking about gijinka!metal sonic again. bc like in a humanisation she’d be like the biological kid of eggman right? and that’s giving me such brainrot. the tl;dr is that she was born through surrogacy to serve as eggman's heir when he dies and basically she was raised to be eggman 2 (her deadname is literally ivo jr) and despite growing up with a safe, wealthy environment with a ton of education she never really felt loved by her father so after he and sonic start fighting she pretty much immediately both replaces half her body with cybernetics to serve as a useful pawn in her fathers schemes and started dying her hair in the hopes that if she looked like sonic she'd at least get any attention. she eventually ran away (after realising she was trans and being terrified of her father not accepting her) and like kinda did the whole sonic heroes thing but being like a human meant she couldn’t just be reset so. she just kinda started serious therapy and now is in an awkward midground where she has absolutely no idea who’s side she’s on. i also have some more detailed thoughts on her under the cut if u want.

the modifications she did to her body for her cybernetics stunted her growth a lot. she was short as a kid and as a teenager she's like 4’7 max. it was extremely invasive and painful, but she was that desperate for any sort of familial love. being eleven it was not exactly done great and while she’s a terrifying combatant she's in and out of hospital the rest of her life for some reason or another.

eggman does actually fully support her transition, bc while he's a terrible dad he does on some level genuinely care about her and like, he cares more about her continuing the mad science legacy than how she presents herself.

she’s very much a sheltered rich kid. the closest thing she’s ever had to a friendship is trying to murder her fathers arch nemesis, and that started when she was eleven she didn’t have any sort of friend before that. her socialisation is messed up enough that despite technically still being fully human (just with very advanced cybernetics) she's still very much the maladjusted violent ball of anger and jealousy she is in canon. sonic and co literally thought she was just a very humanoid killer robot for years. like, up until heroes. but no it’s just severe trauma.

she does however have more hobbies than torturing small animals! she's fond of liveleak.com, licking batteries until she's electrocuted (her modifications prevent her from being seriously injured), and inventing weaponry. she eventually picks up some less… concerning hobbies after a bit of therapy and spending time with sonic and co. (she particularly enjoys fashion and, surprisingly enough, animal crossing).

she mostly resembles her father (her biological mother was specifically picked so that’d be the case, along with many other stringent requirements) but she looks close enough to maria robotnik that she Constantly freaks shadow out. especially bc she is again very sickly and probably will die young bc of the complications with replacing half of her body including her brain with cybernetics made by an eleven year old. she exploits this to experiment on him when she’s bored. she’s not as familiar with biological sciences as robotics but she does kinda want to Not Die and unethical experimentation on the immortal ultimate life form helps.

yes, her nine year old pre-cybernetics appearance is deliberately meant to look a little like alex kidd with the messy hair and pallet. bc she’s neglected in favour of sonic. why not.

[poemsandghosts]

a friend recently told me she thought I was privileged to live in a stable household free of conflict. she made this deduction by observing that I had very high emotional intelligence, knew how to expertly deescalate conflicts and could recognize subtle mood shifts in people around me and handle them accordingly.

all very accurate and true!! but somehow she still managed to come to the wrong conclusion

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

when you nonverbal severely communication disabled and caregiver reliant, your caregiver can just. lie and make shit up when speak for you to doctors to cover up their abuse and neglect, cover up fact that they don’t know your symptoms (not even basic ones like. pain), not tried to, never listened to you, never noticed, never tried to help, even tried to delay help (n succeeded) when you desperately ask for it.

doctor then give a shitty misdiagnosis (diagnosis that stigmatizing even when it real, any new symptom going be blamed on it now, even if it acute life threatening) because of those lie. doctor then get out their own lane own speciality to nullify your existing diagnoses that you know seriously affect you like it does affect sometimes seriously affect many people.

n your incompetent, ignorant, ableist, abusive neglectful caregivers so full of hope n trust in medical professionals—because with all that they never had to go through, all these years surviving without them, why wouldn’t they—believe them. believe that in future should work toward fading away the only aids that still stubbornly preserving an ounce of my dignity n hope, to get me walking, speaking, because there no reason can’t. get more reason (now affirmed by someone with impressive degree!) to never challenge idea they hold since very beginning, that this just like their temporary illnesses, n “bright future” lie ahead of me where am perfectly able bodied (and neurotypical, but in their view am not autistic etc to begin with, so all null & void) & walking & living independently n happy with better life because am able bodied n walking n not tragically depressingly wheelchair bound.

n am the one have to live with their incompetency and ignorance.

n it’s going to kill me.

everyone write your story for you. everyone write your story for you based on their own life their own assumption their own bigotry, then treat as if they quoted directly from you. n not even have reason doubt any of this power dynamic wrong n messed up.

your own writing of your own story. either silenced, thrown away, never listened to, it never happened, it never got written in first place. here, this the story you wrote, as they hand you story authored by every single person on earth except you.

doctor have power over patients, parents have power over child. n when you add fact that you’re completely totally utterly vulnerable n dependent n reliant on them, have to 100% receive what you receive from them because you not have power of protest—somewhat because ability, but mostly because you not given the dignity n grace to be given that power

everyone have power over me. because am dependent on everyone’s good grace, help, support, saving.

n everyone around you abandon you for it. because you’re alone n suffering n too disabled to self help n thus insufferable n needy n too complicating to their life

but

“beggars can’t be choosers”

n you need them. you need all these people. you will never escape. you will die here.

[irondad-defensesquad]

TRIGGER WARNINGS: child abuse and neglect.

"well, you know my dad. he was cold, he never wanted me around, i could never live up to him..." tony sighs. "so the thing is, i relived this one time where... we were returning home after a party. i was drunk. we were both drunk, honestly. but howard acted like i was the fucked up alcoholic. and we fought. i don't remember well what i said to him, but whatever it was, it was enough for him to kick me out of the car and force me to walk all the way home."

peter tenses, listening to all this.

"i remember yelling right before he left," tony continues, "'yeah, you know what, i don't need you! i never did!'. and i was alone. in the freezing snow. i had no coat, because he simply did not care. so i walked. i was so cold. i was crying and it hurt a lot. i was lucky to find a payphone so i could call my butler, jarvis. he was the only one there for me at home. even then, i had to wait for him, lying on a bench. for a second, i thought jarvis would give up on me, too. 'cause he'd been dealing with my bullshit for who knows how long. but no... first thing he did, was wrap me up with two coats, and he took me to his home, so i didn't have to face my parents' disappointment. he didn't get angry at me and i couldn't understand why... but i knew i could count on him, always."

"wow. you... never really told me about jarvis."

"jarvis... he was..." too good for me. "he was an actual father to me."

[aelirus]

AAAHHH going NUTS about how brilliant Cyrus could've been. I mean, he is, he discovered rotom, he created things capable of calling gods, he's a weapons manufacturer

he is absolutely filled with limitless knowledge. But his passions were just never allowed to take shape.

like, you know how you feel when you hyperfixate on something, and it's this rush of feeling and adrenaline, but it all turns into awful negative energy because you have no one to talk about it with or think no one cares?

that is definitely what poor little Cyrus felt... hell, even big Cyrus. No friends, no one he wanted to talk to, no places he wanted to go. Family who didn't entertain his interests in any way.

the most he'd get was when he'd babble about whatever it was he was interested in to his mother, who listened but never engaged in it. It at least gave him some sort of outlet, but there was still no connection there.

and he would've preferred to stay out of his fathers way whenever possible. His presence was stifling and oppressive. Cyrus feared saying one word out of place just to be reminded of how odd he was, and he didn't know why or how to change it.

[devildevotee]

never give neglectful parents the benefit of the doubt. don't do it. that's the metaphorical devil on your shoulder.

[cloyingblccd]

──   (  emilio sakraya. twenty-five. demi-man. they/he.  ) thank god you’re here, man - have you seen ZAKARIA QADIR anywhere? i totally lost them after their rendition of flash mountain by djo last night. no? they’re like, aye - high and go to  LANGSTON - i think they’re a JUNIOR studying ANIMATION (2d and 3d)? but who knows, these days. all i know is that they’re LACKADAISICAL, CONGENIAL and a SAGITTARIUS . last night they kept going on and on about how they won MOST LIKELY TO CREATE A WHOLE NEW CONSPIRACY THEORY THAT MAKES NO SENSE TO ANYONE BUT HIM last year, which is cool and whatever, but i just wouldn’t expect it out of them, considering they’re so, like, SPRIGHTLY and OBTUSE, you know? anyways - i’m going to check down by wickham-on-heath park & beach, i think that’s where they like to hang. text me if you see them, okay? bye!

student file.

full name — zakaria qadir.

nickname(s) — zak.

place of birth — brooklyn, new york.

date of birth & age — december 22, twenty-five.

gender / pronouns — demi man, they/he.

sexuality — queer.

occupation — service attendant at franklin & brown antiques.

astrology — sagittarius.

dormitory — tba.

interests — skateboarding. synth music. weed. shrooms. cuddling. conspiracy theories. imperfect teeth. gossiping. found family. mustard. the cast carcass he kept from breaking his arm at 16. sleeping with white noise. romcoms. vampire weekend. silver jewelry. reality tv. popcorn with extra butter. learning about other people’s interests. light beers. halloween.

aversions — christmas. birthdays. 3 hour lectures. turtlenecks. miscommunication. reading. being asked for your credit card number when signing up for a free trial. negativity. fireball. putting their eggs in one basket. country music. sad movies. pickles. breakups. avoidant attachment style. arguments. being too hot to fall asleep. snobs.

quirks — has made every halloween costume they’ve ever had from scratch. clicking their tongue constantly without noticing. a constant stream of conversation with himself under his breath. has a specific ringtone for each contact in their phone.

most played — flower power by greta van fleet.

notable features — bushy eyebrows. mole on his left cheek. lopsided smile that favours the right.

general disposition — breezy and bullheaded.

character study — steve harrington ( stranger things ) & fred jones ( scooby doo ).

public record.

when zak was born, they spent all of 5 minutes with their mother before she was up and running off from the hospital, leaving them behind with nothing but their name

life after that was more or less the same theme - people took them in for weeks, months at a time if they were lucky, before they were eventually either kicked to the curb or a ‘better family’ was ready for them

of course they had friends growing up, foster siblings they  kept close to their heart and still do to this day, but they’d always been obsessed with the idea of found family, of someone picking them because they actually wanted them, not because there was government money involved

there were bouts of abuse, neglect, days where zak would run away and spend freezing nights on the streets, but it didn’t change their personality; deep down to their core, zak had always been loving and selfless, albeit a bit too reckless for their own good

around the time they were 17 and just about to age out of the foster system, a family took them in, and zak immediately knew something was different with this home - it didn’t take them a week before they were asking zak to allow them to adopt him into their lives forever

it’d been a good 5 years since zak found their family when they were visiting home for their birthday and the christmas holidays - the only night they spent away from family the same night a house fire destroyed their entire family and all their possessions with it

since they had been legally adopted before the incident, zak inherited the family’s savings - enough money that they had what they needed to live off of if they left school. zak's grief had been terrible at the time, enough that they dropped out of school knowing they'd never be able to function in class. but years later, they’d grown bored and tired and wanted to finally go back to school, eventually applying to langston’s animation program

personal details.

though they’d grown up in. a desolate position, the family that’d adopted zak were producers of a film studio that had a hefty amount of money - the only reason zak can afford school and do what they really want, tho they didn't actually have too much in savings, truly Cannot afford much outside of school

Very passionate about claymation movies, what they want to make in the future

literally just. a loving goofball, super protective, doesn’t believe in violence but would fight anyone for the people they love, they just love too fiercely when they accept people into their life

loves school but always struggled with it bc of adhd and dyslexia

an adrenaline junkie through and through

still struggles badly with grief, doesn't love talking about their family and yet does? at the same time? yeesh am i right?

skateboarding is their primary mode of transportation, often just does it for fun by the park and beach

becomes very attached very easily!!!!! its honestly destroyed some friendships and has definitely ruined relationships; becomes clingy, untrusting, scared of people leaving them etc.

it’s also made hookups a mess tho they do in fact. Participate in those Quite Frequently

[fetidfruit]

application.

──   (  sophie wilde. 23. cis woman. she/her.  ) thank god you’re here, man - have you seen TABITHA “TABI” SWALLOW anywhere? i totally lost them after their rendition of softly by clairo last night. no? they’re like, aye - high and go to LANGSTON - i think they’re a SOPHOMORE studying FASHION DESIGN? but who knows, these days. all i know is that they’re INTUITIVE & COMPASSIONATE and a CANCER . last night they kept going on and on about how they won MOST LIKELY TO BRIM WITH TEARS OVER A BEADED LAMPSHADE GATHERING DUST IN THE BACK OF AN ANTIQUE SHOP last year, which is cool and whatever, but i just wouldn’t expect it out of them, considering they’re so, like, SHY & HOPEFUL, you know? anyways - i’m going to check down by franklin & brown antiques, i think that’s where they like to hang. text me if you see them, okay? bye! / as penned by nai.  28.  gmt.

student file.

full name — . tabitha alina swallow.

nickname(s) — . tabi or tabs.

place of birth — . a home birth in a metal bath in a ramshackle commune shed. rural america somewhere but tabi gets it mixed up #memoryproblemteas

date of birth & age — . june 22nd, 23.

gender / pronouns — . woman, she/her.

sexuality — . maybe bi. undetermined.

astrology — . cancer.

dormitory — . castle fell.

interests — . sylvanian families. particularly smooth and interestingly coloured pebbles. mohair leg warmers. umbrellas with corny cartoons on bought for 99p from charity shops. attending petting zoos for mental health reasons. pastel satin ribbons in the place of normal laces. grandma adjacent antique floral sofas. tiny nonsensical purses. the fluffiest bunnies. that one image of snoopy wearing little glasses and inspecting a dress he's sewn. frida kahlo socks. addressing unjust pigeon hatred propaganda. medieval princess hats with tinkling bells on the end. homemade ceramic mugs with chips for character. stuffed toys. illustrated books about fairies. pretend tea parties. baby teeth. morning birdcall.

aversions — . cynicism. judging a book by its cover. watching wildlife documentaries where any animal gets hurt even if it's the natural order. not finding sentimentality in meaningless objects. going to bed with unbrushed teeth. ai art. plain rugs without character. leaving out that one friend because the pavement's too small. coffee. the stale musk of unwashed laundry. sofas without cutesy eccentric cushions. badly wrapped store bought sushi. when people kill bugs. taking off her npc cartoon character jewellery that she has to wear always. being asked a question in a roomful of strangers. wordy philosophy books. the fact people don't speak like animal crossing characters with real life subtitles.

quirks — . always wears either flats or kitten heels STRONGLY believes in comfort n resents anything taller for encumbering feet. sometimes wears long dainty dresses jst to take the trash out bc it makes her feel nice. forever a smidge startled if u address her directly bc she can't quite believe it. sometimes gets overwhelmed in public spaces n puts on these dingy pastel headphones out of nowhere. has the nonsensical urge to try n befriend any given animal even if it could maul her. hates littering so ends up putting trash in pockets n carrying around trash w her at all times bc she forgets to empty them / her bag. picks things most ppl hate as her favourite so they don't somehow learn abt it n feel left out even if inanimate.

most played — storm in summer by skullcrusher.

notable features — . big watery boba alien eyes. pastel nail polish (picks it into disarray often). tiny pea head.

general disposition — . nervous. tender. newborn fawn vibes.

public record.

as i mentioned prev, tabi was born in a metal bath tub in a dingy shed on a rural lot far off the grid in somewhereville america. CULT TW her mother ws actually indoctrinated into a group living on a self sustaining commune n tabi was the product of her n the leader's #copulation. tbh tabi cld honestly have multiple half-siblings without knowing abt it bc of this bc he was Busy! she grew to b about 3 ish maybe b4 the group was disbanded by the authorities n bc of the conditions occurring there was some to-ing and fro-ing b4 ultimately it was decided tabi's mother wasn't fit to raise her any mre So! she entered into the system pretty young n bebe

PTSD, TRAUMA TW tabi doesn't remember a whole lot of details abt her childhood. it's more these little flashes n images w vignetted corners. sometimes she'll see a kid alone on a swing in a certain degree of sunlight n it'll jog smthn bt she won't be able to put her finger on it. she gets this uncomfortable sinking feeling in churches listening to the pastor give his sermons n seeing hw trusting everyone in the pews looks. smthn abt authority curdles in her tummy like bad milk. mayb this is part of why she's so bad at enacting it herself. a vast majority of tabi's childhood is a patchwork quilt w squares missing. when she tries to warm herself in the cloak of it she can't help bt shiver

NEGLECT TW tabi wound up being fostered by a couple who relied on each tiny head in their home as another source of government funded income. every day was a scrap to earn ur place and tabi was often overlooked as a result. i kind of picture her as the runt of the litter guinea pig who always got butted out of the way to munch from a bowl of sunflower seeds. she'd jst sort of blink in the corner n pick over what she cld when the best was already spoken for

there were small silver linings. a foster sibling w whom tabi banded together for a short bt nourishing 2 yrs and taught her what family feels like. they were relocated fr behavioural difficulties at school n tabi was unable to maintain contact bt they hold a special place in tabi's heart still. she hopes the stars shine extra bright wherever they are now. (possible wc tbh)

tabi also learned how to b resourceful. being a foster kid in the house that she was, her allocated toy was a dingy sylvanian cat with an ink stained ear and elongated whiskers. tabi cherished her like the most valuable asset any person cld ever fathom to imagine possessing n spent quiet lunchtimes in the art classroom crafting miniature clothes out of odd materials

this ws a whole gateway into tabi's favourite form of expression. designing and making clothes was where she shined. it some experimentation on a sylvianian toy scale b4 she felt brave enough to move to real person sizes bt tabi made it work bc she jst pretended she was a giant sylvanian too n adapted measurements accordingly. besides it made thrifted clothes otherwise a bit worse for wear something more fun n interesting when she embroidered patterns with cheap thread or painted orchids and birds of paradise up the pant legs.

when tabi reached 16 she received a letter in the mail. her foster mother watched with a squint as she carefully pried it open. it ws from her birth mother.

they still keep in touch 2 this day. its sporadic without any consistency to it n her mum is quite all over the place to put it lightly bt tabi has a lot of patience n understands that her mum is just a bit different to other people. she doesnt blame her for any of it. it's kind of sad bc tabi ends up advising her on her life rather than vice versa n is more of the parent than the child in many ways

me realising ive gone on way too long abt her story growing up like omgggg aha stoppppp. anyway got scholarship to langston fr fashion design n has been self sufficient scraping by since 18 so. hits the whip.

personal details.

frm an outside perspective tabi is quite literally akin to her namesake n like a skittish stray tabby cat. it takes her a minute to feel comfortable in an unfamiliar social situation n she tends to sort of jst be quiet n shut down bc she doesn't think her input is needed unless it's specifically asked fr

that SAID sometimes she jst meshes w ppl n feels comfy from the get go. it's rly a case by case basis n she doesn't have a criteria for it its more of a gut feeling / vibe tht sort of puts her at ease. mayb like a kindred soul underlying everything situation. or like. idk this person has something abt them that feels like they might Understand. u know???? nods n walks away without further explanation

vry creatively inclined. likes weird little trinkets n is EXCESSIVELY sentimental abt almost anything, even a random stone she picked off a beach 7 yrs ago. intensely crafty n loves making thoughtful gifts fr ppl out of nowhere someones literally jst minding their business then tabis like um hi so i made u this tea cosy bc u said mugs burn ur hands when theyre too hot one time n i figured it might help :) the person like wtf. do i know u?

OCD TW struggles w self imposed rules n numbering things. always hd to check she locked her door by trying the handle 3 times afterwards. idk mayb it's bc she's had so little control in her upbrigning but also had to Be in control so consistently throughout her life that it feels like there's this immense pressure to get everything right n no margin for error bt. ya. hangs head.

relates a lot to patchwork teddy bears. feels like a mismatched amalgamation of every place she's ever been n every person she's ever loved or loathed. so intent on finding the light in any dark situation tht even if it was pitch black she'd squeeze her eyes shut so tight she'd conjure phantom stars on the backs of her eyelids. sometimes looks for the good even when it isn't there </3

That Girl who secretly reads fantasy books abt faerie smut To Cope. except coping jst means mentally leaving ur body for a couple of hrs to laugh at feyre fr her core "pulsing with heat" over a hand kiss as if tabi wldnt react the same. it's complex.

[kismutt]

( jonathan daviss. twenty4. cis man. he/him. ) thank god you’re here, man - have you seen CYRUS BOSTICK anywhere? i totally lost them after their rendition of house song by searows last night. no? they’re like, aye - high and go to PALLADIAN - i think they’re a SENIOR studying FOREIGN LANGUAGES (LATIN, WELSH, GAELIC)? but who knows, these days. all i know is that they’re POSH, DEBONAIR and a CAPRICORN . last night they kept going on and on about how they won LEAST LIKELY TO BENEFIT OFF THEIR NEPOTISM last year, which is cool and whatever, but i just wouldn’t expect it out of them, considering they’re so, like, COMPETITIVE AND SHREWD, you know? anyways - i’m going to check down by wickham-on-heath park and beach, i think that’s where they like to hang. text me if you see them, okay? bye! / as penned by alli. twenty5. cst.

DID YOU WANT TO BE SOMETHING MORE ... 

cw:  divorce tw,  neglect tw

profile.

full name — griffin cyril 'cyrus’ bostick iv 

nickname(s) — cyrus, literally he’s just cyrus

place of birth — cardiff, wales

date of birth & age — december 24 & twenty four

gender / pronouns — cis man & he / him

major — foreign languages with specializations in latin, welsh, and gaelic

university — palladian

languages — fluently: english, welsh, scottish & irish gaelic; conversationally: french, portuguese, spanish; reading only: latin, arabic

astrology — capricorn

residence — holland hall, suite 4.

interests — horses/equestrian riding, animals, the ocean, surfing and swimming, tennis, poker, history and anthropology, classic novels, red and white wine, champaign, wales, languages, math, travelling

aversions — rosé wine, being underdressed, frugal spending, his dad, golf, opera, pickles, football (all kinds), planes, silence

notable features — preference for luxury and subtly, how straight he stands so he can claim that yes he is 6 feet how did you notice? i’ve been told since i was young i have a really tall aura, so yeah, obsessively clean hairline, like bi weekly touchups, smells faintly of leather

general disposition —  posh, sophisticated, gluttonous, chivalrous, debonair, competitive, shrewd, self-serious, jealous

character study — tybalt and romeo ( romeo and juliet ) & macbeth ( macbeth ) & henry winter and francis abernathy ( the secret history ) & kendall roy ( succession ) & oberyn martell ( game of thrones ) & robin swift ( babel ) every rich guy asshole mean dad stereotype ever

history.

in cardiff, cyrus had his mother, he had his brother, he had his horses and the estate. returning each summer to the lifeless frame of his father’s hamptons home, his only company the often frantic hunting dogs his father kept plenty of, was more than a bother. cyrus was never quite sure of his father’s job. his halfbrother often teased that griffin cyril bostick the third was an mi6 agent, like the bond films that filled their childhoods, but cyrus wasn’t convinced. he spent enough time with the man to know he wasn’t capable of much bravery, even if he understood the draw to corruption. 

kept tucked away from the city, cyrus’s world was small in america.

as long as the bostick’s had held property in america, rumors of succumbing to the ‘karmic resolution of their immense greed’ spread like plague down the bloodline. his mother had instilled this in him young, but the draw to luxury must be sincerely genetic, because though he tried to resist, cyrus grew particular with age. 

he has a preference for the thread count in his sheets (over one thousand), the brand of bag he stows his bridles in (longchamp), the type of car his father rents for him (german). his mother did little to temper his desires. why should she feel bound to discipline when his father stole so much time from her? she could afford to buy cyrus the catalogues he would produce before her, so she would. 

cyrus also demonstrated an impressive intelligence very early on. he is incredibly adapt at picking up languages, and spent his youth picking up every local language he could get his hands on. village children, vacationers in the hamptons, local immigrants, cyrus was fond of bothering them all until they gave up the keys to a new language to him. the most he allows himself to hope for, beyond retiring to a horse ranch, is opening an international branch of his father’s investment firm. so he studied, and studies, relentlessly. 

this is not to say that cyrus grew up without joy, or with much strife back in europe. his mother was a constant lighthouse, if not prone to treating him, sometimes, with more reluctance than his brother. if she says no to cyrus, will she lose him to his father? and is it right to deny him something good, when he has to go away again come summer? 

cyrus isn’t one to answer that question. for his own part, his world is relatively small. while he loves social events, company, parties, chatter – he has trouble opening up much. he can be attention-seeking, a product of his father’s cold shoulder. he can be manipulative, a product of his father’s modeling clay. 

context.

he has a small hoard of animals he attributes to being owned by his .. ‘lordship..’ lol. with the exception of his favorite riding horse, teddy – government name superted, after his favorite (welsh) childhood cartoon – these animals live at the family estate. wallace the sheep dog, bronwyn the barn cat, and rupert the retired race horse. 

he wants to be the best at everything he does. competitive because he is a child of neglect oh…. everyone play a violin for him actually it is sad. but he needs to work on it he will push over a child in an easter egg hunt type beat. and he does not celebrate easter, but there is $20 in one of those eggs. does money even mean anything to him, you ask? well. you’re being rude. 

he is intense. he is dramatic. he has a fragile ego that he will happily admit he needs stroked. he’s a simp. he’s a douche bag. he’s your father’s worst nightmare and your mother’s best daydream. he contains multitudes. we all do. 

he hates the monarchy, he hates the american government, he’s honestly pretty anarchist considering how comfortable in the upper echelon he is as well. like i said. we all contain multitudes (unethical things we like).

wanted.

group of beautiful people – anyone else in the chat kind of shallow and vain and love pretending to be better than everyone? anyone else love being expensive and dramatic and like television if it was real life? let’s link.

exes. – any gender cyrus is an open opportunity clubhouse. he probably cheated. he thinks he wants monogamy because he wants to prove his dad wrong but. who is going to tell him. he’s toxic asf. 

tutors/students – he is really freakishly good at languages!! let him tutor you!! he is really crazy bad at history and science! it makes him so mad and he needs these grades to be perfect so please help him.

student government – i feel like cyrus would do this. anyone who runs against him. anyone who is also into student government. anyone who wants to rule the world and go out for drinks and pretend to know more about the world than other people. pretentious – hey. i am not a tory - cyrus. yes he thinks he’s doing it in a les mis way. no he will not admit he’s seen les mis.

horse girls – he’s on the equestrian riding team at palladian… his horse, teddy, lives here in the stables and everything. maybe your muse works in the stables or also has a horse here or etc etc. he plays polo, too. yes he’s annoying. 

rumor mill. – cyrus will start a rumor for you and he will spread it like wildfire. i do feel like he kind of knows everyone to an extent. he’s good at memorizing names. he remembers that thing you said to him at a party when you were really, really drunk. he won’t tell anyone. as long as u tell him something else he CAN tell someone.

etc….. i am so down for whatever. they mean in our thread and we go based on chem?? yes. i love. cyrus fits a wc?? beautiful. anything else…. childhood friends? family friends? american (hamptons) friends? drama.