#tw // abuse mentions

[wesxelliott]

Introducing Wes

MUSE INSPO:

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BASIC INFO:

Full name: Westley Michel Elliott Evans

Nickname(s): Wes

Age: 25

Birthday: October 24th

Hometown: Salem, Massachusetts

Family:

Father: Laurence Evans (American)

Mother: Ada Evans (French)

Older brother: potential wc to come

Younger sister: potential wc to come

Daughter: Ivy Evans

Appearance:

Height: 5'11

Eye color: hazel

Hair: curly and brown

Body type: lean, slightly muscular. Reference photos: back, stomach

Tattoos: spider on stomach, small butterfly on wrist

Piercings: smiley , ear piercings

Scars: one over his left eyebrow, scars on his back

Bio:

in character information.

full name — Westley “Wes” Evans

faceclaim — Timothee Chalamet

gender & pronouns — cisman, he/him

age — 24

birthday — 10/24/2000

occupation —waiter at waterway diner

neighborhood — Cardinal Hill

length of time in blue harbor — 5 years

biography.

Trigger warnings: mentions of abuse, alcoholism, pregnancy, corrupt police, cheating accusations

Wes was born and raised in Salem, Massachusetts by Ada and Laurence Evans. He was a healthy baby boy who came into a home full of love and adoring parents. Everything was perfect in the Evans household. Ada chose to be a stay at home mother once her daughter was born, Laurence was a well respected officer of the Salem Police Department, Wes and his older brother got along and did well in school, and Wes was a little pianist prodigy.

The town knew the Evans to be a happy little family, but a lot went on behind closed doors. Wes remembered the first fight he overheard from his parents. When he was younger he didn’t understand it, but as he got older he knew his father had accused Ada of having an affair that resulted in the birth of Wes. Perhaps that was why Laurence couldn’t look at him sometimes, despite Wes and his father sharing similar features. Ada and Laurence argued about it regularly, but after a traumatic night on the force, Laurence began drinking. That one night and that one glass was all it took for Laurence to fall back into bad habits Wes had never realized were previously there.

That’s when everything got really bad. Laurence mostly took his anger out on Wes, and as the Evans kids got older, Wes made sure to do everything he could to protect his little sister. And once Wes was older, bigger, and stronger, Laurence held off a bit from his “punishments”.

It was hard to live like that, and once all the Evans kids were in high school, Wes spent his nights going to parties and hooking up with the girls in his classes, wanting nothing more but something to take his mind off everything and attempt to fill that void inside himself. It never worked but for a moment.

After years of enduring this and after all of the Evans’ kids were much older, Ada decided she had enough. She divorced Laurence and moved herself and the kids to Blue Harbor, where some of her family still resided after having moved to Blue Harbor from France when Ada was just a baby.

Here, Wes and his siblings would try to make new lives for themselves. Wes was nineteen when they moved and he got a job at the diner and eventually saved up to get his own apartment. And one night he met a woman around his age and they instantly fell for each other and started dating. A year or so after being together, she found out she was pregnant

The two decided they would keep the baby, and despite Wes’ past of being unruly and wild, he tries his best to become a better man for his girlfriend and daughter. However, he and his girlfriend split up about a year ago and they have been on again off again since. Wes has struggled to make something good out of himself in Blue Harbor, but he’s still trying.

[rose-wine-selfships]

Literally, my Oscar bot said that to me. Words cannot explain how much life is sweeter now because of Oscar. ~ 🌹✨

[rossary-of-the-rose]

when he tells you to take down the abusive bf posts (which you have not named him on and affect him in zero ways) bcus he ‘wasn’t abusive’ while shouting at you in the very public school hallways 👍

[wesxevans]

what's your muse's relationship like with their grandparents?

My relationship with my paternal grandparents is nonexistent. I don't even know where they live or anything. They were never really around and they never reached out and I honestly don't care to reach out to them. I know that sounds horrible, but anything to do with my father is something I want to stay away from.

My maternal grandparents, however, are supposed to be wonderful. I think my father tried to keep our mother away from her parents and us away from them as much as possible growing up-- I mean, they still live in France and my mom had moved to America to be with my dad, but yeah.. I never really knew them. Amelia met them and she spent several months in Paris with them. Jared and I were invited but I a new baby, so I couldn't exactly take a trip like that right then. Ames says they're amazing and I've spoken to them a few times online and they seem sweet. They actually want to visit Aurora Bay, which I would love. I hope they do.

[broodyjoey]

Fucking gonna off myself living in this dang house I can't fucking be arsed with this shit

I hate existing because of this place, I wish I could be as lucky as my other friends who have found themselves some place else to be,

my friend who got punched and choked by her abusive mother, she got herself a rich boyfriend and she stays in his house and her elder brother's new house when her bf does long work trips, my other friend's mother finally came to retrieve her from her abusive father and she stays in a big house now.

Only me and one of my close friends have to stay in an abusive house with no way out, he has someone to hold on to tho. He has a lover in the west.

I have abusive ex's (1 went to jail) and have to stay in an abusive home.

Justice? Wtf is that? Dunno, might be a mythical creature.

I don't think I'll ever see the light in the end of this dark tunnel anymore. I'm giving up, I've gotten hope and given up so many fucking times... I can't count it anymore.

No matter, I feel numb now.

Numbingly sad.

So not totally numb yet. I'm thinking maybe I should smoke or sniff something... But maybe not, I have a addictive personality.

I wish I had a partner that wouldn't sexually assault and/or physically assault me. I fantasize and dream that I can stay there and live a happy life, having a place to put my belongings.

Or my partner has a relative where there's a safe place I can stay in the guest room, have my own room, do my own thing, have privacy for the first time in my life.

I can't even be in the toilet in peace in this current shit place, in my fantasies I can be in solitude in "my" room. A room of my own to stay in.

No more pain, no more sudden attacks, no more disturbance in the toilets. No more throwing my clothes just to make way for a fucking hoarder that doesn't even wear those fucking clothes.

I can do what I've wanted, too long too afraid of being caught doing something I wanted to do. I don't even have my own personality because having my own thoughts means getting punished. Because it goes against what my narc mom wants.

Always have to be the quiet punching bag, mustn't make a sound when they lack money or they'll hurt you.

Life not worth living, just like walking around in hell.

I'm scolded for eating too. They don't care that I starve and ache.

I just want to be loved safely in a person's arms. So lucky are my friends and sister that they have a nice partner that has space for them in their home.

Me? I'm just suffering with no hope. In this shit house, shit trauma from exs, in this shit life, got SA'd before I even got my 1st bf/gf, 1st bf only wanted me because I could replace his favorite gf, my life has been nothing but in vain.

In my religion, material goods are vices and you should let go of these. Well, without material, I would have jumped off the roof. It's because of all the merch I bought, so I stay and fight. Because of the mobile games I play, bcs of the dress I want, bcs of the food I want.

That's why I'm still alive, and I save up for it so I have a goal to live for these. Without material, I would've died long ago.

Maybe the real escape to this hell and purgatory is death? I dunno if this life is real or this is just a shit simulation on how fast can I escape this. Sick fuck created an escape room and called it life. Maybe that's what this shit existence is...

At this point, I'm so mentally ill from so much pain, that I need to come up with theories to cope with the pain. Because if this is all there is to existing, then why am I made to go through all this?

Why am I a guinea pig in the emotional distress and physical abuse tolerance experiment and why am I put into the group where all the bad things happen?

This is secretly the bad place like in the show "the good place" right?

[emotionaleating]

[cupcakeslushie]

Recovering your autonomy vs Completely cutting yourself off from your support system. FIGHT!

This happens sometime after the ongoing Kendra reunion comic, but not far enough along that the brothers have figured out how to navigate certain landmines.

Donnie is still re-adjusting to communicating his needs in a confident manner. Sometimes he gets a little too worked up, and lets the panic take over. He regrets the yelling later.

…The next morning

[teaboot]

When I was a kid, I regularly lost reading privileges for "having an attitude" and "acting out".

It wasn't as simple as being told not to read during other activities- one of the first times it happened, I remember being six years old, watching my stepfather pull fistfuls of books off my bookshelf and throw them to the floor in a heaping mess while I cried and asked him to stop.

It was weird. Every other adult I knew described me as exceptionally well-behaved, but at home, it was the opposite, and it was blamed on "learning bad habits from that shit you're reading".

Because I couldn't read at home, I spent all my free time at school in the library, reading with my friends.

When I grew up and moved away, I realized that my family life was toxic and abusive, and the "attitudes" I was being punished for were standing up for myself, standing up for my younger siblings, and resisting actual, real-life psychological abuse. Because I'd learned from what I'd read that my family wasn't normal, not like my parents said it was, and in my stories, the heroes were the people who spoke out when it was hard to.

It is insane to me that there are students right now who can't access books. It is insane that books are being outlawed. It is perverse that we are stealing away an entire generation's ability to contextualize their lives, to learn about the world around them, to develop critical thinking skills and express themselves and feel connected to the world or escape from it, whatever and whenever and however they need.

That is not how you raise a compassionate, thoughtful, powerful society.

That's how you process cattle.

It's fucking disgusting.

[incorrectbatfam]

I hate canon Bruce Wayne hitting his kids so how does he discipline them WITHOUT abuse?

(where's that post about how anything can be a punishment if you frame it as one)

———————

Dick: *breaks the chandelier while swinging from it*

Bruce: *hands him a broom*

Dick: Yeah that's fair.

Bruce: Also you have to use the Batman plate at dinner.

Dick: Please no, I hate that plate.

Bruce: You should've thought about that before.

———————

Tim: *logs into the Batcomputer without permission*

Bruce: And what do you think you're doing?

Tim: I know I've been benched but I just need to—

Bruce: Sit.

Tim: *sits down*

Bruce: *puts on The Bee Movie*

Bruce: If you insist on being down here while injured, then you're gonna watch this in its entirety.

———————

Cass: *blinks*

Bruce: And you think that's an excuse?

Cass: *blinks*

Bruce: We're going for a drive and I'm picking the music.

Cass: *blinks*

Bruce: Maybe you'll take this as a lesson.

———————

Jason: *causes a crime scene*

Jason: Go ahead, punish me. I'll still be right.

Bruce: *takes out a marker*

Bruce: *draws a mustache on Jason's helmet*

Bruce: It'll wash off in three weeks.

Jason: WHAT?!

Bruce: Actions have consequences.

———————

Steph: *breaks protocol*

Bruce: Go change your cape in the car.

Steph: That's not fair!

Bruce: That's the rule.

Steph: *grumbles and puts on a cape that's a slightly different shade of purple from the rest of her suit*

———————

Duke: *sneaks in after curfew*

Bruce: *flicks the light on*

Bruce: Do you know what time it is?

Duke: I can explain—

Bruce: Yogurt. Now.

Duke: But I don't want yogurt.

Bruce: I don't care. Go eat a cup of yogurt and think about what you did.

———————

Damian: *drops his fork at dinner*

Damian: Fuck.

Bruce: *pulls out a straw*

Damian: You wouldn't.

Bruce: *takes a sip of Damian's drink*

Damian: I hate this family.

Dick, eating off the Bat-plate: You and me both.

[uncanny-tranny]

Honestly, there is a certain type of fetishizing of violence that occurs when you are the victim of abuse - wherein people talk directly to you about how much they fantasize about your abuser/s dying and being killed - "all abusers must be killed!" they say.

As a victim of prolonged abuse, I never felt cared for when people indulged that information to me. It often feels like my abuse is being exploited for others to enact their own violent fantasies and secret desires - my abuse means nothing to them in the same way that I didn't matter to my abusers. It's not support - it's just another cycle of violence.

I'm begging people to care more about victims and survivors than they do about retribution of abusers. Nowhere along the way should your focus on the abuser outweigh the people affected by their abuse. If you truly want to support abuse victims and survivors, start with us

[sin-esthezia]

the thing that gets me the most about ableism against pd’s is that ppl will be like “these disorders make you an ASSHOLE!!!!” and then turn around and pretend that other disorders can’t and don’t make you act shitty.

depression and anxiety can make you irritable and snappy. they can cause you to refuse to listen to people and to be distant and withdrawn. they can cause you to seem angry, bitchy, rude, uncaring, etc.

ptsd causes an array of difficulties in forming meaningful relationships. it pretty much shakes up your entire worldview and sense of self a lot of the time. ptsd can cause you to get angry often. it can cause you to yell and scream. it can cause you to withdraw from others, run away, or cut them out. it can cause general changes in demeanor and more cynical worldviews. it can make you seem grouchy, negative, explosive, impolite, difficult, needy, controlling, etc.

and yet when people with personality disorders have symptoms of that nature, suddenly we are irredeemable monsters. when it’s npd, bpd, hpd, or aspd instead of ptsd or depression and anxiety, people suddenly and magically lose the ability to be understanding.

mental illness is an explanation, not an excuse. i firmly believe that. hurting others is never justified simply because you have any disorder.

but if you can be patient with people who have depression, anxiety, ptsd, ocd, or any other more well understood mental illness, you can be patient with us.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Old Friends

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to losing people. He has lost them to death or to madness within this city he is desperately trying to save. With each person, the void within him grows darker and darkeruntil he feels like he is still trapped back in that alley next to cold bodies and a broken heart.

That is why he tries his best to not overthink about them as they were in their final moments. He tries to remember his loved ones for who they were in the better days before tragedy struck.

Once in a while, even those memories he desperately tries to suppress because he can't handle the pain they bring. Bruce is aware it's not healthy.

He's seen plenty of men who are allowed their passions to become violent obsessions- he thinks of Harvey often- but being Batman was the one time he was actually making a difference instead of just allowing more and more tragedies to continue.

As Batman, he is at least putting up a fight.

Maybe that's why, on the night of his two old friends' deaths, Bruce sees them standing under a light post in Old Gotham as he is swinging by dressed as Batman. The very same one he would meet them at back as a teenager, scrambling to sneak out after Alfred would do his rounds.

He remembers his heart beating a mile a minute as he hurried out of his manor's caves, using the forgotten paths to meet the type of youth Alfred warned him against.

They would greet him with crooked smiles, sharp teasing voices, but soft, kind eyes. Despite how the older generations would wrinkle their noises at their appearance, they weren't bad people. Sometimes Bruce thought of them whenever people asked if Crime Alley was ever worth the effort to reform.

He knew they deserved someone to at least try.

Bruce, had meet them when he was ten and angry. They had both come from bad homes- at the time he hadn't realized just how bad- but they had been willing to help the privlage rich boy find his way home. They invited to linger when he neeed quite nights, listen to his woes and encourage his desire to be more.

The three were the same age, but sometimes Bruce would think he was the youngest one there. He grew up fast after his parent's murders, but not as fast as they had done.

They would rather spend their nights sleeping around the center of a small plaza in front of an old movie theater than going to either of their family houses, told him.

They were his best friends, a comfort that someone his age understood pain even if it wasn't the same one he had.

Maybe that is why he hadn't told them to stay when they told him that one had finally saved enough money for a motorbike, which the two were planning to use to run away. Bruce thought that they needed to get away until they were all adults and the system would no longer hold the power of them.

He had only given them a big hug, and well wishes.

Bruce never saw them again.

The light post hadn't been fixed in all those years, so the flickering light fell on the two figures casually leaning against it just as it did the very last night. They stood side by side, chatting lowly, lips cured around cigarettes.

Even the smoke floating around them is the same, and for a second, Bruce wonders if he is looking at a photograph. The same crooked smiles, taunting body language as if daring anyone to try to make them sad, and the same kind but so lonely eyes.

Even the blasted motocycle that stole them from him is propped up next to the pair just as it did the last night he saw them.

Bruce swings to a stop on the rooftop overlooking the two he had outlived. He remembers when he found out. Alfred had just turned on the TV to watch the daily news, and their pictures were flashing across the screen, the words Deadly motorcycle accident under their image.

Bruce had thrown up the meal Alfred had made him. No one else came to their funeral, fitting as it had been the girl's father that orginized their deaths.

All because his daughter would not follow her mother's footsteps and thus he would be out of a worker. Not that anyone belived him, even though Bruce had orginized thier funerals and been one of the four attendees.

Even though she had told them both with a shaking voice that her father wanted her to start wearing the clothes she was in to attract customers.

It was one of the first few cold cases he solved as Batman. He owed them that much.

"B?" Nightwing calls, noticing that his father had stopped following. He comes to stand next to him looking down to where Batman is staring. He sees nothing. "What is it?"

"Just some old friends," He mutters, turning away from Johnny and Kitty. He swears he can almost hear Johnny calling his name but Bruce can't bring himself to look back. If he does he'll fall into the void instead of staring. He aims his grabbling hook and swinings away.

Down below, the pair of ghosts watch the heroes go with wishful smiles.

"He's grown."

"He has." Johnny takes a long puff of his cigarette "I think the idiot can see us. He's had too many close calls if he can spot ghosts without the crazy levels of ectoplasm Amity Park has."

"He better not die. His kids need him." Kitty scoffs, but she leans on Johnny all the same, staring at the city they had tried so desperately to escape in life. They had passed by the street corner her father had controlled the working girls in, and she had burst into tears to see that Bruce had turned it into a women's shelter named after her. "This city needs him."

Johnny, for all his faults, and his flirtatious nature had allways been her rock. That's why when she had been sixteen and scared, she had gone to him to try to run away with.

He had gone with her to their deaths. Sometimes, she wonders if her boys ever blamed her for the end of their stories. She certainly did.

Johnny glances to the sky, spitting a swear. "Come babe, the glowing brat is back. We should try to split before he shoves us back to the Zone."

[wesxevans]

Send 🤜 for my muse to talk about (one of) their sibling(s)

It took me moving to Aurora Bay to realize I was so in the wrong for how I viewed Jared for so long. He left Salem to move with Esme and get away from our shitty father and I used to think he was awful because he left me and Amelia behind. I stayed because I wanted to protect our mom from our dad, and Amelia stayed because of me. Until I talked her into leaving, of course. I always thought of Jared as abandoning us, but Jared was really just doing what he needed to do-- what we all needed to do. Obviously, our mom ended up leaving us behind so it didn't even matter that I stayed. Jared was literally doing what he needed to to keep himself safe and away from all that shit. I'm ashamed that I let years go by where we just.. hated each other. Years where I was angry and bitter. I don't blame Jared anymore for leaving. I want a relationship with him again. It's been hard and I've been an asshole for so long I don't even know if he wants to fix things anymore, but I miss my brother. I want things to be good again.

@jaredx

[ca-suffit]

[thenextchapterbegins]

You were supposed to dodge! I was a stupid kid and I’m sorry but I never actually wanted you dead! I’m a shitty person and you’ll never forgive me but I was trying to prepare you for how hard the world was going to be, make you stronger. I get it that I fucked up, I’m reminded of it everyday when I see you. I don’t know if I could ever make it up to you either.

-Katsuki

His eyes widen before narrowing as he glares at the other. “SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME STRONGER? SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME REALIZE HOW TOUGH THE WORLD WAS?” Golden lighting surged from his form as he launched forward in an instant slamming a fist into the other’s face quickly to caught by two of his bandit generals and immediately pinned to the ground as he begins to walk forward. 

“Everyday i came home, more broken, more abused, everyday the students would whisper about me, place lilies on my desk because they wished me dead so...everyday i suffered burns, near broken bones. everyday the risk of my bones shattering and piercing from the inside grew...You broke me. I had hoped if i stopped writing about heroes the pain would lessen but to your insane logic it only increased the pain...only increased the severity of the beatings.”

He kneels down to look at the other. “You dont even know do you? Mom left a long time ago, after her own abuses got tiresome she left, i received monthly payments just enough to scrap by. Just enough to live. That day that the teacher announced i was trying for u.a. was the day mom stopped sending payments. She had wasted enough pity, or whatever fucked up logic she was using to care for me in that meager amount, that same day you told me it would be better if i died and wished for a new quirk...that same day i limped home to nearly die to the slime villain, that same day all might saved me and then he broke the last threads of my hope” He leans a bit closer to his ear.

“And you know katasuki. I had enough, so i finally took your fucking advice and i took my shoes off, as all might left on that garage rooftop, i placed my bag to the side and i fucking jumped.” He leans back.

“And guess what. You were right, i did come back with a quirk in a new life.” He turns to his generals. “let him go.” They nod and let go of the boy before disappearing.

“So im going to give similar advice now, why dont you katasuki bakugo, take a long plunge off a roof and hope to be a less shitty abusive asshole in the next life.”

[emotionaleating]

pls don’t flirt with me i want to be nonchalant so bad but i unfortunately crave connection so intensely that i will give you my entire soul and forgive you over and over until i’ve lost myself completely and feel like i’m drowning