#and so does the show treating haley right and not just as a stupid little girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

olivinesea · 3 years

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Oooh fun! Okay, do you have any headcannons or thoughts on a dyslexic Hotch? I feel like I never see dyslexia with any characters really, and I like the idea of him with it. And if you do and you want to write something about it, a dyslexic Hotch with the team (and them being the supportive and protective family they are?) Thank you! ❤️

I hope you have fun, wherever/whatever you’re doing!!

I love this so much!! Thank you :) okay I don’t have much personal experience with dyslexia so hopefully I get this decently accurate. The biggest thing that surprised me when I was doing a quick search is that it isn’t actually a matter of reading words or letters backwards? It’s more an inability to connect letters to the appropriate sounds or to break words up into component parts; a general phonological awareness struggle.

So, as with many things, it seems to me to be a matter of slowing down, learning at your own pace. This ties in nicely with so many of my other Hotch thoughts, I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Idk what this is, it’s neither headcanon nor proper story but hopefully it’s something like what you were looking for:

When he’s a kid he gets called a slow learner due to his undiagnosed dyslexia. It was much less common to get that kind of diagnosis back then in general and I am sure his dad would have hated the idea of his son needing any kind of extra help. So he’s slow to speak, slow to learn how to read, has difficulty with numbers, absolutely hates being called on to read out loud because it’s actual torture and the other kids have no hesitation about laughing at him. So he becomes withdrawn, labeled a “bad kid,” stops trying because, fuck it, he never gets any kind of support, who cares right? It’s always a fight at home, he starts hiding his work, lying about his grades. This works for awhile bc his parents are distracted by other things. His problems are much bigger than grades by the time they do notice.

However, while he hates school and the way people talk about him and his struggles, like he isn’t even there, he discovers that he doesn’t hate learning. There’s a small library in town where he found he could hide out, no one bothering him for hours if he just sat still for with a book open. He was good at sitting still, at being invisible. But eventually a librarian notices that he’s always got the same book open, some sort of technical manual, that he is rarely turning the pages. She asks him if he likes what he’s reading. He’s just alarmed to be spoken to, afraid that being noticed means he will soon no longer have this sanctuary. He nods and tries to bluff his way through but it’s obvious he hasn’t read it, despite having looked at it for weeks straight. The librarian doesn’t say anything outright, just lets him be for now.

Next time she sees him she brings him a different book, a collection of Grimms fairy tales. He wants to complain that it’s for little kids but is too nervous to refuse it. She asks if she can read him her favorite story from it. It’s dark and twisted and fantastical and he can’t help but be drawn in by it. He’s sad when she’s done reading, wants to hear it again, to capture all the details to replay to himself later. She shows him where it starts, encourages him to read it himself. He doesn’t look at her bc he doesn’t want her to see how upset he is by that, already frustrated by the anticipation that he won’t be able to get through it. But she stays with him, helping him where he gets stuck, asking him questions about the story, making sure it’s making sense to him.

They slowly work their way through the whole collection over the course of months. They spend days on each story, repeating it until he’s confident, she never makes him feel like he’s taking too long or wasting her time. Sometimes has to reread a section multiple times, gets hung up on the language rather than the story but it’s okay, she gives him a notebook to copy down parts that spin too loudly in his mind, saving them and also releasing him from their hold so he can move forward. She lets him keep the book, tells him it was too old to stay in circulation anyway, they had a new copy on order already. She’s the first person who was patient with him, that showed him he could do it, he just needed a little more time, a little more practice than other kids.

In college this is part of why he spends so much time at the library. Part of it is his natural inclination to overwork himself, push until he’s given more than he can in hopes that it might be almost enough. He knows he’s never been enough, why would that change just because he’s in a new place? But the other part is he simply needs more time to get through the coursework, to make it through the excessive amounts of reading he’s assigned. Some other students don’t even bother to read but he would never do that, he makes sure that he not only reads every chapter assigned but he reads it again, takes notes, highlights, annotates, does everything in his power to be prepared. Sure he might work himself to the point of exhaustion, to the point where he makes himself sick (though he’ll try to deny that too) but he’s never caught trying to read something while others wait for his answer, the letters and sounds meaningless, slipping away from him faster the more eyes he feels turn towards him, wondering what could be taking so long. No one ever gets the chance to laugh at him for being slow in college, he never allows them to see that side of him.

As an adult, the leader of the BAU, he’s too well respected for anyone to dare laugh at him but he still hates feeling unprepared. This ends up looking like long nights in the office, reviewing case files to the point of memorization, so that he won’t have to read any of it in front of his team. He can if he has to, he’s developed skills over the years, ways to calm the panic that only makes it harder, can fake it well enough that no one would really notice. Until one day, distracted by a migraine and the fallout of some fight with Haley, he gets stuck. He can’t remember something and he tries to read the sentence that has the information but the stupid word just won’t resolve into sounds that make sense and he just stops talking. He’s glaring at the form like it might catch fire. No one says anything for a moment while he tries to refocus, tries to work around echoes of laughter, decades long past but always ready to jump out at him if he lets his guard down, allows a mistake, a tired moment to derail the image of perfect competence that he’s built around himself. Penelope jumps in, finishing the thought, completing the list of traits shared by the victims. He forces himself to smile at her because he really is grateful, it wasn’t her fault. She scrunches her nose at him, dismissing his silent thanks with a toss of her head. It was nothing, everyone needs a little assist now and then.

No one brings it up and he doubles his efforts not to let anyone see. But he’s so tired on the plane coming back from a case, he’s been staring the same forms for an hour at least. He can feel his ears turning red with frustration. There’s really no reason he has to do this now but the fact that his mind is refusing, almost seems to be teasing him, makes him dig in harder. Emily sits down opposite him, pulling the folder away without asking. He’s about to say something sharp, something he’ll regret saying to her when he really means it for himself, but the expression on her face is so odd, smiling with a frown between her eyebrows. It isn’t pity, she respects him far too much, but there is curiosity and something else, something soft.

“Drink with me.” She slides him a glass and they don’t talk, just look out the window, look at the light playing off the ice in their glasses. He doesn’t see the file again until it appears on his desk, every form neatly filled out, the places needing his signature flagged. All but the last spot, where she’s signed his name eerily perfectly, difficult for even him to see that it’s not his own. Just so he knows she can if she wants to. Equal parts offer and threat.

Penelope and Reid start a book club. Derek joins right away. Emily rolls her eyes when she’s invited, muttering something about spending her free time on more work but they know she will join. Rossi flat out refuses to read the books but offers his house for meetings. Hotch hesitates, wanting to say yes but nervous to commit to an activity like that. He loves books, loves to talk about books. He doesn’t love a time limit on books.

The next time they have to drive to a case, Derek puts on a copy of the audiobook. It’s the first time they make it to a destination without any bickering from the backseat. They don’t get through the whole thing but later he finds a copy of the audiobook on his desk, complete with a disc player and headphones.

A different month, Reid tells him about how his mother always used to read him books and somehow finesses an offer to read to Hotch without him even realizing he’s accepted it. So Spencer comes in to Hotch’s office on lunch breaks occasionally and reads to him whatever the book of the month is. He loves it, remembering the first person who read to him, how shocked he’d been to be treated with patience, with understanding and wondering how he got so lucky to be surrounded by people like her, so ready to support him, wanting him there with them rather than off alone, uselessly fighting with himself to prove his self sufficiency over some uncooperative letters.

Okay, that was so much more than I was planning on but here we are. I hope you liked it and thank you SO much for the idea. If you ever have any others you want to share I am totally here for it. :)

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mochiiyaya · 4 years

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Can We Fix This?

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As you were cleaning, ignoring the notifications you hear a ring from the door. “Ah sorry, we are closed, come tomorrow.” You said as you looked up to see a familiar but slightly different brunette. “Y/n.” He softly said. Your eyes widened. It felt like time stopped. “T-tooru? What are you doing here??” You said almost like a whisper. You rubbed your eyes to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you. “It's me Y/n.” He says as he comes closer. “P-please don't c-come closer.” You said as you backed away. Your hands were shaking as you tighten your hold on the broom. It was dead silent and you can hear your unsteady breathing. You knew the reason he was here yet this came to you as a surprise.

“Why are you here.” You said looking to the floor. “Y/n i wanna talk. I texted you saying I'll be coming. Please let's talk.” He said. “I didn't check my phone..” You softly said. “I'm glad you didn't then because you would have left. We both do know that. Y/n I'm not planning on staying forever in Japan, I'm going back to Argentina soon.” He said as you could feel his eyes on you. “Then why come back there no poi-” You were cut off, “You are the reason…” He said softly. Your eyes widened trying to hold back to tears. “Stop! Just stop it... Why?” You said.

“Y/n..” His soft voice makes your heartache. “Tooru just stop... Please just.. stop.” You say. “No Y/n hear me out, please. Just for now.” He said as he reached out for your hand. You pushed his hand away, letting go of the broom. “Why should I? When I pleaded for you to just listen you didn’t give it a second thought.” You said getting frustrated.

“You are the reason why I'm back in Japan. You were always on my mind. I wanted to hold you, I wanted you by my side, I wanted to hear your voice, see a text for you. I couldn't handle it anymore. I just had to see you. Don't you understand Y/n.” He said as you heard his voice break. Tears falling from your face. “I want to say how much I hate you yet I just can't.. because I know I don't. I don't think I will ever hate you even after everything that has happened.” You said letting out a sigh. “Can we fix this? Can we fix us?” He said as he reached out for your hand holding it tightly.

“Maybe if you came sooner maybe we could have..” You said as you pulled your hands away. “D-do you have someone new?” He said as his voice break. You looked at him. Your eyes widened seeing the brunette face covered with tears. “Y-y/n p-please tell me you didn’t, p-please tell me that it's not true.. Tell me that I'm the o-only one, the only one you love.” He breaks down falling to the ground. Your heartaches to see him like this. Your sight blurred from the tears.

“Tell me that the years we spent together meant something to you, tell me that the memories we had never left your mind, tell me that you still want to marry me. Please just tell me please. I'm begging you.” He paused a moment trying to catch his breath. “Y/n please don't leave me alone. Don't leave my side... Don't give up on us. W-we can try this again right?” He said, looking straight into your eyes pleading to you. “Tooru..”

“Y/n, please... I-i know it's my fault yet all these years I couldn't let you go even how much I tried too, I couldn't even think of anyone besides you. I was stupid and young yet I knew you meant the world to me but I l-let you go.”

“Get up please.” You said softly. He did what he was told to do. You wrapped your arms around him for an embrace. He did the same yet buried his face in the crook of your neck and held you tighter.

“T-tooru” You took his silence as he was listening. “I um where do I start this.” Your mind running wild trying to find the right words. ”Um I don't regret the times we spent together. I was really happy. I miss the dates we had, the late-night calls or talks, our little adventures, cheering you on when you had a games, and of course you.” You heard him trying to hold back his cries. “I'm glad I met you even though how we ended things could have been better but we were both still young and trying to figure out who we were. I know that night, the things you and I said were not true, we were just shouting out random things out of anger. Maybe if I was a better girlfriend for you, you wouldn't have left me behind, maybe if I convinced you that I'll stay with you until the very end you wouldn't have given up on me… on us.” You said as you gripped his shirt he was wearing.

He backed up to look you in the eyes. “Y/n you were enough. You gave me everything a person can-” “But i-”. He cut you off before you can say another word. “I promise you that. You made me feel like I was actually enough that my endless training was good enough for once. You stood by my side when I needed it the most. You were everything to me. I was so stupid..” He went back to the same position he was in.

“That day you left broke my heart in so many ways. You showed me how to love but you showed me how painful a heartbreak can be. When you left I questioned if you ever loved me, if I meant anything to you, if you ever needed me to stay with you, or if I was enough for you. It took me years to get over it. I wanted to know these answers from you yet not that long ago I have been feeling okay. To answer your question yes I meant someone. He now means the world to me, he made me feel like I was enough, that I'll be okay, and i wouldn't change that. I'm happy now, Tooru.” You felt his breathing change. You back away and hold his face. He grabbed your hand and held it tight. His eyes have gone puffy and his nose seems a bit red.

“Tooru I love you I truly do but I'm slowly moving on and you should too. Maybe things might have been different but this is how things ended up. Maybe in another time, we ended up together and we were happ-”

“Don't say that in front of me because I really really wish that's how we ended up.” He said with a sad soft look. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. That small kiss had so many emotions that weren't said.

You both looked at each with love in your eyes yet you both knew there's no going back to how things were and after this, you both are going to move on with life. You knew he loved you and you loved him but your feelings for Kenma only grew with every moment you spent with him.

“Does he make you that happy?” He asked. “Very” “Then i-i guess that okay by me..” He said as he holds you tighter, ceasing your hair. “If you hadn’t met him would it have been me?”

“Tooru, I thought of marrying you”. “But look at you now liking someone else that’s not me.” You let out a small chuckle. “I'm not sure because what if we didn't settle our argument and never talked.” You let out a sigh.

“Right... You have no idea how much I wish we were together again at this moment.” He left a small hurt laugh. “If only if it was true.”

“Maybe it is, you never know. You believe in aliens so why not believe in another universe where we are happy and we fix this.” You backed away flicking his forehead. “Oww that wasn't necessary.” He rubbed his forehead. “And aliens are a different story.” He said as pouts. You let out a laugh

Hearing you laugh makes his heart race. Your laugh was music to his ears. How much he misses being the reason for you smiling, laughing, and overall your happiness. He knew he wasn't the one in your heart now and he has to learn how to be okay with that. He blames himself for letting you go. If only he could go back in time to change everything he would in a heartbeat. He felt like crying again. He’s willing to put his happiness aside if it means you’ll be happy.

You looked at him with a soft loving face and smiled. You placed your hand on his cheek to wipe away the tears that were running down with your thumb. He pulled you in a tight hugged. “Y/n I love you will all my heart remember if he doesn't treat you right I won't hesitate to hurt him I won't back down if he breaks your heart. Okay?” He said. You let out a small laugh and hummed in response.

How much he didn't want to face the truth that you're no longer his he had to accept it. “In another life time, we can fix this huh?” He thought to himself.

You both held each knowing this will be a goodbye and both of you are moving forward.

Little did you know someone was watching your heartfelt moment.

⊱ . .⃗ ༉‧₊˚✧ . ˚ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪✩‧₊✿ ⊰

Sweeter Than Apple Pie | 16

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↳ ❝ Yn owner of a rising bakery cafe. One day a pudding head boy enter with his close friend looking for an apple pie. What will their future bring them when they keep meeting?❞

❥ a/n: i’m honestly not the proudest of this writing but i hope you all enjoyed it 🥺

✧ tag list ✨: @tepjameme @rosecarft-lollipop @mochahyuck @hnpriscilla @pasta-warlord @mikantsumiikii @usamizuki @notamazinglizzy @nekoma-hoe @satomiis @simp4tsukkii @achly @lilidrawz @juns-random-world @gabbaeae @cleopatera @mental-instability-xviii-ii @yammmers @alyssasteaparty @fleurnymph @newfriendjen @glyxiebear @handsoffmyfriends @lollawindsay @bbecc-a @officiallykuute @moonlightaangel @just-snog-already @goodnight-haley @sol-demure @johnnysactualgf @animewithmemes @michelepiekenma @icaruskenma @urmyshinsuke @mirikusashes @daninaninani @babyshoyo @lostmarimoismyhubby @jvhoons @kozumesupremacy @2sj2 @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @shhhspect @destruhction @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @rachelexe @madusas-girlfriend @sukiuqu @a-applepi @elianetsantana @elixabeth-exe

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hotchley · 3 years

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(Teen Hotch and Haley prompt)

She knows better than to startle him. Haley knows what that monster does to Aaron, she has patched him up too many times to count. But she figures a hug would be okay, so she comes up behind hotch (Idk what the setting for this would be) and Haley wraps her arms around him and he lurches forward flinching and starts to have a mini panic attack despite her gentleness.

Basically Haley starles Hotch and he has a panic attack and she calms him down. (Feel free to change or alter some of the prompt a little bit) like maybe one of Haley’s friends “play” punches him and he freaks out. Either way Haley comforts him.

seven

(because that was the song that I listened to the most whilst writing this)

tw: child abuse, panic attacks

Haley Brooks loved Thursdays'. In fact, if she had to choose, she would say that Thursday was her favourite day of the week. Nobody would ever ask her that, but it was. She knew it was strange to pick such a random day, but it was the one day of the week where she felt like she could relax and enjoy herself.

The theatre club met on a Thursday. She loved theatre. It was fun. And it was the one thing Jessica had never done either, so it was entirely hers. No comparisons. No competition. Just her, her friends, and a musical that she already knew she would hate after the final show.

And of course, Aaron Hotchner. Haley loved Aaron. She knew that already. People may have said that it was ridiculous for her- a seventeen year old- to say that she loved someone like that, but what they didn't understand was that this was Aaron.

He was different. There were a million different parts to him, and she seemed to be the only one that ever got to see them all.

She saw him stumbling through dances, but trying his best and she saw him flustered when people complimented him. She saw him smile- a real, genuine smile- whenever he realised she was staring. She saw him when he was debating, real passion on his face.

She also saw him when he was terrified that his father would find him hiding in her room and take his anger out on her. She saw him when he was so angry with the world that it terrified him because what if he turned out exactly like his father, he couldn't do that and he needed to leave before he damaged her just like everyone else.

It was painful to watch him wince as someone touched his shoulder. It took every ounce of her self-control to not march down to the police station and demand that they arrest Mr Hotchner because he was an evil, evil man that should never have been allowed to have children.

But she couldn't do that. They wouldn't believe her. Aaron had begged her to not say anything. He had tried once. His father had broken his arm and he had ended up in the hospital because he wasn't allowed a hospital.

So she kept his secret. And the window to her room opened all through the evening, even in the winter.

That was the other reason she liked Thursdays'. Mr Hotchner worked late. By the time he came home, Aaron was already hidden away in his room, away from angry fists and alcohol-scented breath. On every other day, there was a chance he would be climbing through her window, blood staining his shirt and tears drying on his cheeks.

Nobody had ever wiped his tears away. The first time she did, he flinched away from her touch. She had thought it was her. Then he apologised, and her heart had ached for him. He spent more time in her house than his own, without anyone knowing, of course. It was stupid, and impossible, but the words were always on the tip of her tongue.

She thought he should live with her. It would be impossible until they both graduated, but she knew her parents would get over themselves eventually. His dad was always angry, even when there was nothing wrong, and it was unfair.

It was unfair that Aaron had to suffer, and it was unfair that nobody was willing to do anything, and it was unfair that his childhood had been torn from him, leaving him a broken shell of the person he could have been. It was unfair that all she could do was clean up the blood and make sure he ate enough.

She liked Thursdays' because she knew Aaron would eat enough. That he would sleep through the night.

She knew Aaron was not the violent and aggressive man that the teachers treated him as, nor was he the trouble-maker Jessica and her parents believed him to be. He wasn't the strange and weird kid that the rest of the cheerleading squad liked to tease him for being. Aaron was soft and sweet, always sticking up for the younger years and he was smart and funny.

That was why she was so happy that he did theatre with her now. It was one of the few moments where other people could see the version of him that she knew existed and loved with all her heart.

He was talking to one of her friends' about the choreography they were learning. His back was facing her, but she could tell from his hand gestures and generally relaxed stance that he was enjoying himself. That made her smile. He deserved to enjoy himself, and to have something good in his life.

She slid off the table she'd been sat on and headed over. Aaron seemed far less tense than he had in any of the previous rehearsals, and it was nice. Cute, because it meant he didn't care about his rambling or poor dance skills.

They weren't officially together- they'd only been on one date that had been cut short because Aaron had needed to run home- but she liked to think they were dating. Or at the very least, good friends. Sometimes she wanted to kiss him, if only to convince him that he was worthy of love, but it was never the right moment.

A hug was okay. Friends hugged all the time. And besides, Aaron could always do with hugs, but there were very few people that were allowed to give them to him. His brother didn't count, because most of the time, Aaron was the one hugging him and that was different. His mother hardly touched him now.

She stepped forward, pressing a finger to her lips when her friend went to say hello. Her friend nodded and turned her attention back to Aaron, who was still rambling about something or other. It sounded like he was talking about Les Miserables, which impressed her.

Haley took one more step forward.

Aaron felt hands wrap around his stomach. His stomach which had bruises forming because his father hadn't even bothered to take his shoes off before taking his anger out on his eldest son. He flinched, but it was too slight for anyone to even notice. Haley pressed her forehead to his shoulder, hugging him tightly.

Her touch was gentle. Her hands were soft. But Aaron did not feel that. He did not feel the love or joy that she did at having him close. He just felt the fear and dread that he always felt when his father came home before he could escape. He felt calloused hands that were harsh and unforgiving.

Before he was aware of what he'd done, he had twisted out of her grip and ran out the room. It was a habit he wasn't even aware of anymore- always standing as close to the door as he could. He had no idea where he was meant to go, only that he needed to get away.

Haley remained frozen in position. She looked down at her hands. Mr Hotchner's hands were much larger than hers. Rougher too. When they touched Aaron, it was to inflict pain and hurt. She knew how that monster touched him. She'd cleaned him up enough times. She should have known better.

But she'd just assumed he would be fine, and now she was here, frozen in position whilst he fled, probably that somebody was going to hurt him.

"Is he okay?" her friend asked.

That shocked her back to reality. "I- give me two minutes okay?"

She ran out the room without even waiting for a response. This had happened once before. It had been terrifying, but they'd gotten through it together, and afterwards Aaron had been so grateful. It made her sick to think that he'd been going through it alone.

Without an ounce of hesitation, she entered the boys' bathroom. Only one door was open. She immediately ran over to it and sat down.

Aaron was struggling to breathe, tears streaming down his cheeks as he rested his head against the wall.

"Aaron," Haley said, fighting to keep her voice steady. This wasn't about her. She needed to be strong for him.

He shook his head. Haley longed to touch him, but they were both still just trying to work out what worked for him. Touch was not one of those things. So she sat opposite him instead, close enough that he could hear her without having to struggle.

"Baby it's me. Haley. We're going to get through this. I need you to listen to me though. Can you do that?" The term of endearment slipped out by accident, but she wasn't about to take it back. Short sentences that were easy to understand were key to helping him through whatever happened to him in these moments.

He nodded, once, slightly hesitant.

"Good. I'm going to breathe in. Can you do that with me?"

Aaron nodded, and she just prayed she was doing this right. She inhaled, slightly relaxing when he did the same. She counted to five and hoped that was the right number, before exhaling. Aaron did the same.

"You're doing so good for me Aar," she assured.

She had no idea how much time passed. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. But eventually, Aaron's breathing returned to normal and he didn't flinch when she held her hand out for him to take. The pressure grounded him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"You should come and live with me," she blurted out. Immediately, she cringed. Aaron was already so much older than he seemed. Saying that would only make him realise just how immature she was.

He smiled slightly, drawing circles over her knuckle. "Yeah?"

"Mhm. We could do whatever we wanted. Like eat pancakes for dinner, and dance round the kitchen whenever wanted, and watch those rom-coms that you love so much," she said, smiling slightly.

"That'd be nice. Tell me more about this life of ours together."

She could never tell him no. It was halfway through her spiel about the way they would decorate their hallway that she realised exactly why he wanted her to speak. He found her voice soothing and it was helping him.

So she decided to be brave, and she took a chance.

"Aar?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. And I think we should go on a date," she said, all in one breath.

"What?"

"You don't have to say yes. It's just- I'm sat here, planning out what our future home looks like but you don't even know how I feel and I needed you to know that."

"I don't think anyone's ever loved me," he confessed quietly.

"Can I hug you?" she asked, not sure what she was meant. Because saying that wasn't true would be an insult to everything that he had been through. Love hurt sometimes, yes, but not in the way that he was.

He nodded. He still tensed when her arms went to his stomach, but she took her time, making sure he knew it was her, not someone else. When she finally embraced him, he sobbed into her shoulder.

She just ran her hand through his hair. "One day, we're going to get out of here, and it's going to be the best time of our lives."

They did eventually get out of that small town. And they ate pancakes for dinner, danced to ABBA hits in their tiny kitchen that wasn't even made for two people, watched silly rom-coms that never failed to make Aaron tear up, and they decorated their hallway with photos of them and their friends.

#tw child abuse #tw panic attack #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch #haley hotchner #teen!hotch #teen!haley #hotch x haley #hurt aaron hotchner #hotch whump #hotch angst

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bosspigeon · 3 years

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hurts like hope

Pairing: M!Detective/Mason Word Count: 3100 Summary: Detective Juniper Fenn tries to figure out just what the limit on his incorrigible hope is, and when he’ll finally be able to stomp it out.

Hello I Am Here With More Self-Indulgent Character Study Nonsense. For $8000 a month, I Will Stop.

CW for vague descriptions/references to sex

Nothing has ever hurt Juni like hope has.

He wouldn’t call himself an optimist by any means. He’d probably settle on “optimistic pessimist” if pressed, which means always expecting the worst, because at least then he’s either right or pleasantly surprised.

But in spite of that philosophy, there’s a stupid, naive part of him that won’t die, no matter how much it’s beaten down—his dumb, desperate hope.

He hoped doing the best he could in school, never getting into trouble, never arguing with Mum or making her feel guilty for leaving him behind would show her he was good enough to acknowledge in more than impersonal letters and distracted phone calls on major occasions.

He was always disappointed.

He hoped working a job he didn’t care about, that didn’t suit someone as soft-hearted and anxious as he was, would make him feel closer to the memory of his father, would make him feel like he was doing something good enough to make people care about him like they did Dad.

Disappointed again.

He hoped letting Bobby walk all over him, use him, and placate him with saccharine-sweet murmurs of “Oh, angel, you’re so good to me” would make him see Juni as more than just a convenience, a doormat and a stepping stone to bigger, better things that would always matter more than Juni’s ever mattered to anyone.

The repetition got exhausting, after a while.

When he meets Mason, he thinks he’s given up on hoping. At that point, he just wants something for himself. He wants to be selfish. He wants to be wanted, even if it’s just for a tumble or two. Even if it’s just because his stupid, special blood suddenly means he’s catnip for supernaturals. Even if it doesn’t mean anything.

I’m doing this for me, he tells himself when Mason’s touching him for the first time, when strong, calloused hands are dancing up his sides, and he tries to shrink away, suck in his gut, and Mason squeezes with a pleased little growl that makes Juni whimper. I’m doing something for me, for once in my fucking life.

The lights are off. They crashed through the door without turning anything on, but Juni knows Mason can see him just fine anyway, and he wants to squirm, wants to hide, but Mason distracts him with a very thorough kiss, his touches gentle until Juni responds positively, his sharp eyes picking him apart, like figuring out what the detective likes is the only assignment that’s ever mattered.

And then Mason calls him stunning, and he’s done for.

He’s sure that’ll be it. One and done, and Mason will forget all about the messy, bumbling detective now that he’s whet his appetite. It hurts to think about, it hurts to hope, so he doesn’t.

(That’s a lie. He does. He always does, because he’s stupid.)

He tries to bury the hope like he’s done before, but it’s no use. Every time Mason sits as close to him as possible without physically touching him, every time he gives him one of those long, smoky looks, every time he puts out a cigarette when Juni asks or just doesn’t light one at all, every time he touches Juni with a gentleness that feels almost reverent, like Juni is something worth treating carefully, it fights back harder, hopes louder. In just a few months, the vampire’s got Detective Juniper Fenn’s fragile little heart on a string, and he doesn’t seem to know it.

If he did, would he even care?

Juni gets his answer before long.

He’s only seen me naked.

He told himself he wouldn’t hope. He wasn’t hoping. He knows better. He should know better.

But he hoped, and it hurt, and it’s exactly what he deserves, isn’t it? Once bitten, twice shy, and all that, but Juni’s been bitten so many times, and he never shies enough for it to matter. He walks right on into the hurt with open arms, like a moth to a flame, to a fucking bug zapper, and just licks his wounds until the next flame comes along to reduce him to ash all over again.

When will he learn?

If nothing else, he’s resilient. It’s one of the few things he’s got going for him. He knows how to roll with the punches and pretend everything’s fine, because he’s been doing it since he was old enough to know crying for his Mum wouldn’t do anything but give him a headache. So he runs out of Haley’s in tears—she’s known him since school, so she knows he’s a crybaby and won’t tell a soul—but at least he knows how to calm himself down before he walks into the station. He plasters on a smile, cracks a few jokes, and everything’s fine and dandy.

And then Juni’s fucking ceiling explodes and his room floods, because nothing can go right in his life. At least it wasn’t some supernatural attack this time, he supposes. Small mercies.

Of course, it’s got to be Mason who greets him, when he’s soaked to the skin and covered in plaster, and still recovering from seeing Mr. Yu naked.

And Mason apologizes.

The hope he thought had finally, finally died the slow, painful death it deserved springs back to life in his chest like one of those inflatable clown punching bags. He wants to be annoyed, because an apology doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot if you don’t even know why you’re apologizing, and it feels more like Mason’s blaming Juni for having feelings (stupid, stupid feelings) rather than actually taking accountability for causing hurt, but he’s an idiot, so of course he reaches out, takes Mason’s hand, and asks the dumbest question he’s asked in his life. And he still has to Google literally every odd sound his car makes, because the poor thing is held together with duct tape and dreams at this point.

“What does this mean for us?”

And he’s blown off again, and when the hope shrivels up this time, he wants to grind it into the dirt with his heel, salt the earth so nothing grows there again, because really, when is he going to fucking learn? He wonders how Mum just turns off her feelings, and if that sort of thing can be taught. He wonders if she’d make the time to teach him, now that she’s “trying.”

He wonders if Dad was as much of a raw nerve of a person as he is, but it’s not as if he can ask anyone about it.

"You two… One of you is going to have to make the big leap, and he has no idea how."

Felix has never been shy about needling Juni about his ridiculous and obvious whatever-it-is with Mason (calling it a crush seems as childish as it is reductive, since he doubts it can be called a crush anymore once you’ve, uh, had sex) but this time it comes out... Softer. Gentler. Definitely annoyed, groaned out with a hearty eye roll, as if the two of them are personally responsible for all of Felix’s woes, but still... kind. Kinder than he expected, and that is enough to throw him off for Felix to leave him behind before he can even shake him and ask him what the hell that’s supposed to even mean.

No idea how?

Mason’s confusion when he apologized strikes a new chord, suddenly. Mason doesn’t know how he fucked up, just that he did. In a normal circumstance, with a normal guy, Juni would assume he was just being a dick. Of course he didn’t do anything he saw as wrong, he’d just be apologizing to get back into Juni’s good graces—and also his pants. It was certainly Bobby’s MO.

But these aren’t normal circumstances, are they? And Mason’s not a normal guy.

Juni doesn’t want to think about what he saw in the mirror at the carnival, but if he were any good at not thinking about things that upset him, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head, trying to clear it of the splashes of red, of the screaming, and he swallows until he can calm himself down.

At least he can distract himself with drumming up signatures for the blood drive. He thinks he can. But Mason is there, and he’s distracting, aloof and unamused and annoyingly gorgeous, and Juniper Fenn never professed to be a terribly strong man. There’s a gut-deep urge that draws him to the vampire, an itch under Juni’s skin to get close, poke at that sneering facade and see the softer bits underneath.

Juni’s seen so many of those softer bits, far more than he thought he could ever get when he tumbled into bed with Mason for the first time. He honestly expected to be ignored entirely once he gave him what he was after in the first place, but instead he was given little fragments of something more, and sentimental idiot he is, he’s been hoarding them and trying to cobble together something from the scraps he’s been given. So he drifts closer, pulled helplessly into Mason’s orbit, and he doesn’t even know what to say, so he just laughs awkwardly and needles Mason about not helping.

Which… works, somehow?

It doesn’t exactly go where he’s expecting it to go, conversation-wise, and he’s left reeling with Mason’s stark, shameless honesty. There’s something that warms him, knowing that the vampire seems to, if nothing else, respect him, in his own way? That anyone, much less someone as difficult to impress as Mason, thinks he’s good enough? Not just good enough, but ‘better than pretty much anyone’ he knows? Juni’s known Mason long enough at this point to understand some things about him, and one of the most obvious is how loyal he is. Loyalty is everything to Mason, and he’s fiercely protective of those that have earned it.

Juni’s fingers are slack enough with surprise that Mason can take the board from him and wander off to frighten the general populace into signing up for the blood drive, and Juni is left with his heart fluttering in a very damning way.

Don’t be an idiot, he tells himself fiercely, shaking his head as if that will rid himself of the pointlessly painful affliction he’s tried for years to shrug off. Just because he likes you as a person doesn’t mean he wants anything else with you.

Whatever weirdness still lingers between the two of them, Unit Bravo’s company makes what would have been a really boring, lonely task actually pretty fun, between Felix dancing around and chatting happily at any citizen of Wayhaven drawn into his orbit, Adam and Nate working together like a well-oiled machine to collect and transfer signatures, and Mason looking genuinely confused whenever someone is brave enough to weather his thunderous expression for the chance to chat with him, however briefly.

It’s nice to be with them all, and their comfortable rapport and playful banter makes it surprisingly easy for Juni to brush his confusing feelings aside and just be, for a while. At least until the banter halts sharply, and every eye is looking over his shoulder. “Hello, angel.”

Juni closes his eyes and stiffens, jaw clenching as a shudder ripples through him. No, no, no, not him. Not today.

Juni's relationship with Bobby was never terribly comfortable, but he’s always been something of a boiling frog cautionary tale. Bobby is not the sort of person who ever turns off the persona. He was rarely ever just Bobby, and Juni knows that hasn't really changed. While they dated, even when they were dumb kids, Juni was always stuck in the shadow cast by someone so desperate to stand in a spotlight they stepped on everyone they claimed to love in order to feel even a shred of that artificial warmth. Juni supposes he wasn’t much different, only the artificial warmth he craved came from Bobby.

He has no idea why Bobby is still so hung up on him. Juni always got the feeling he was never more than the road of least resistance to Bobby. He was easy. Low-maintenance. Didn’t kick up a fuss over being talked over and ignored, because not only was he used to that sort of thing, he was just so grateful to be anyone’s anything, he’d let the man get away with murder just to keep that illusion of happiness.

“What the hell did you just call him?” Mason snarls, stalking to Juni’s side. Juni’s trying to keep calm, trying not to turn into a complete disaster of a person under the sudden stress, but his fluttering awareness of the vampire is crashing into his shrieking fear of confrontation and turning into a messy cocktail that he knows all four vampires can sense. Vaguely, and a little frantically, he wonders if he just smells like anxiety all the time, if anxiety has a smell. It probably does.

“I… always call him that.”

He does, always has, and back when Juni was blindly obsessed with everything he pretended Bobby was, he convinced himself it was cute. Looking back, it always felt sleazy and fake, but Juni’s a master of nothing more than he’s a master of ignoring his own discomfort.

“Not anymore you don’t.” Mason takes another step forward, and for a moment Juni’s terrified he’s going to start a goddamned brawl in the middle of the square. There’s a mean little part of him that wouldn’t completely hate that, but thankfully that’s outweighed by the sensible part that knows he’d be the one stuck dealing with the aftermath. He’s reaching out to try and stop Mason from escalating things further when Adam, thankfully, intercedes.

And then Mason returns to Juni’s side, and a strong arm slips around his waist and hauls him close. His heartbeat goes crazy, and he can only be grateful that none of Unit Bravo are telepathic, because he’s sure his brain is making godawful dial-up noises. It’s a struggle to maintain politeness, but he does his best. Bobby, at least, seems to realize now is not a good time to try and pick at Juni’s defenses, with four government agents backing him up, one of whom has a possessive arm looped pointedly around him.

"Just because he's being polite, doesn't mean he wants you here.” Well, Mason’s greatest skill is reading people, and he’s probably figured out that Juni’s go-to defense mechanism is to pretend everything is fine and dandy and smile, smile, smile no matter what. Still, his protectiveness (if that’s what it is?) makes Juni’s stomach squirm. Mason’s almost baring his teeth at Bobby, who hopefully will not notice that his canines are a bit sharper than a normal human’s should be. “So piss off.”

Thankfully, Bobby is the sort of person who doesn’t like to start fights he’s not sure he can win, so he leaves with, of course, a sleazy parting shot that makes Juni shudder. He really, really hopes Bobby doesn’t find him when he’s alone. He’s got enough mental stress on his plate at the moment, thank you very much, Bobert.

He tries not to make a sad little noise when Adam ushers them back to work, which means Mason pulls away from him, but he’s not sure how successful he is, given the long look he gets from those smoky grey eyes. He throws himself into the work of cleanup to avoid anymore uncomfortable conversations, because he thinks he’s exceeded his quota for the day.

Of course, he thinks that, but he never knows when to quit, and he winds up sidling up to Mason again, fueled, once again, by hope.

He wants to smack himself with a rolled-up newspaper.

What’s the definition of madness, again? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? He wonders if Mum still has his old therapist on retainer. He bets she’d have a field day with whatever the hell he’s doing now. She’d probably be able to retire with the royalties from a paper picking apart his myriad neuroses and subtle self-destructive tendencies. Maybe he should ring her. Someone deserves to profit from his ridiculous inability to take a bloody hint, and it’s certainly not going to be him.

But, God, Mason’s hands are on him, tugging him in, and he’s helpless under that stormy stare, he had not a chance in hell to resist, not when Mason is being soft, and open, and what the hell does any of this mean?

Juni sometimes wishes he’d resisted when Mason first started teasing him, turned him down, tried to keep things professional and friendly rather than stumbling all over himself at the first sign of interest. He wouldn’t mind at all if Mason just wanted to be friends, because at least then he could still be close, still bask in the steadfast loyalty and companionship of a man who would take a bullet for any one of his team—his family—and Juni could keep his heart intact. But he knows without a doubt he never stood a chance. So he sinks into the attention, leaning into it like a flower towards the sun, bares his soft throat and softer heart and hopes against hope he won’t be torn open and left to bleed.

It’s never gone well for him before, but optimistic pessimism and all that. He’ll either get exactly what he expects and deal with the painful consequences like he always has, plastering on a smile until he can go cry alone and listen to sad music to remember how to face the world again, or the battered, bruised hope that won’t fucking die will finally, finally be rewarded.

Mason’s smile when Juni pitifully asks “That’s it?” leaves him breathless and dizzy in a way just a smile has no right to, but it’s so warm, so open and sweet, it blindsides Juni when he’s already weak. He’s completely helpless. Absolutely done for. Nate’s disapproval is hardly a blip on the embarrassment radar, because Juni is floating.

And, as if Mason isn’t satisfied with just completely rendering him a puddle, he hops off the table with a quick peck on the cheek and saunters off to clean up, leaving Juni’s scrambled thoughts to chase themselves around in a circle. It was just a chaste little kiss. It shouldn’t even mean anything.

Of course, to Juni, it means everything.

For once, just once, without mentally whacking himself with a broom, Juni tentatively allows himself to hope.

#the wayhaven chronicles #specialist agent mason #specialist agent m #twc fanfic #twc detective #pidge writes #oc: juniper fenn #HERE IT GOES HERE IT GOES AGAIN #this one technically comes before the other one ive posted #i just posted that one first bc of the way things appear on tumblr #so you hit this one first and then that one #that makes sense right?#hhhhhh anyway here's some more character study nonsense for juni #bc thats where im at i guess #its all v long and disjointed but thats what my brain is doing so uh #¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

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cinnaminsvga · 5 years

Text

forever fools | tddup!spinoff

→ summary: jieun learns that saying goodbye is a two-way street, and sometimes it's easy to forget to look both ways before crossing.

{or alternatively: here's some sad lesbian angst ft. sana from twice}

→ genre: angst, slight fluff/humor, tddup!au → word count: 5.8K → a/n: this was commissioned by my lovely patron haley, to whom i am forever grateful for. i don't know if this is what you were expecting, but hopefully you enjoy it!! thank you again for being such a great star in my life!! if anyone else is interested in commissioning me for works like this, head over to my patreon (link in description) for more details. without further ado, here’s some lesbian greek goddess angst lmao!!

There’s something strange about looking at an empty bedroom, Jieun thinks as she snaps her last suitcase closed with a note of finality reverberating in the still air. The normally cluttered closet stands forlornly against the wall like a shell, the floor looks pristinely white for the first time in a century, and the window sill is devoid of all the little succulents that Demeter had given her from the first day she had arrived at Olympus. Above all, what unsettles her the most is the fact that the room did not look like it has ever been lived in at all. Jieun shakes her head, a small smile of amusement gracing her face. The cleaning naiads truly do not hold any prisoners when it comes to dust and dirt.

As she looks around her room, it is hard for her to keep the nostalgia at bay. After all, for the longest time, Jieun has called this place home––an oasis away from the terrible migraines and playful chaos that happens on a regular basis while working as an Olympian. It is the one place where she can escape when Zeus’ antics would get a little bit too much. While she did sleep in the same bed as him on most nights (not quite out of her own desire, but rather, because of a sense of duty that compels her to stay faithful to Zeus), she always did like slinking away to her little haven whenever she had the time.

She does not know what this room will be used for, since Y/N has expressed her desire to stay by Zeus’ side. Jieun chuckles at the memory of a red-faced Y/N when she had explained her reasons, saying something along the lines of “I need to keep both eyes on that man-sized toddler” even though her rapidly beating heart and flushed cheeks said otherwise. Oh, the beauty of young love.

In the midst of her contemplations, she hears a knock outside her window pane despite her room being high up in the heavens. Normally, most mortals would be confused as to who would have the ability to climb thousands of meters up into the air, but since Jieun is a goddess (or soon to be an ex-goddess, to be exact), things like this are hardly ever out of the ordinary. Even more so, Jieun knows exactly who the intruder is, because no one else would be crazy enough to disturb her privacy and wear those gaudy winged Gucci slippers with a stupid grin on their handsome face.

“Someone called for the bellboy?” Hermes says in lieu of a greeting as Jieun opens the window for him to enter through. Hermes flops down from the window sill, his Gucci slides thumping loudly against the carpeted floor. He takes the suitcase away from Jieun’s hand, who almost seems reluctant to let go. Noticing her mournful face, Hermes steps closer to her, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly.

“Hey, you doing okay, Hera? I know it must be weird. Hell, I think it’s gonna be weird not hearing you nag me all the time,” Hermes jokes, but his voice drips with sadness. In truth, Jieun always did appreciate Hermes’ presence, especially since the two of them had become gods at around the same time period. Jieun has promised herself that she wouldn’t cry in front of the others, but somehow seeing the usually upbeat god looking so forlorn was making her tear ducts moisten against her will.

“Nah, I’m fine. We all knew this was coming, sooner or later. Besides,” Jieun huffs, pinching the younger’s cheek with a smirk. He whines, but doesn’t do anything to push her hand away. “Even when I die, something tells me that you’re going to be visiting me in the Underworld more often than you did when I was here on Olympus.”

At that, the trickster god laughs, his ears reddening at the accusation that the two of them knew was true. He shrugs his shoulders, the sadness abated for now. There is more than enough time to be sad in the future. “Perhaps. Don’t tell Yoongi though, because I’m going to be using the excuse that I miss you for the next millennia until he starts to get suspicious of my frequent visits.”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t mind either way,” Jieun smirks, ruffling the boy’s hair in endearment. Hermes gives her a wicked grin, neither agreeing nor denying the claim.

“This is the last of your belongings, right? No need to call the Anemoi to help bring your stuff down to your new home?” Hermes says, lifting the suitcase to check its weight. He whistles when he feels how light it is. “Damn. You really don’t have a lot of stuff on you, huh? You’ve been living here for the past 1000 years so I had expected at least a few more bags, if I’m being honest.”

Jieun shrugs, gesturing around her room. “This bedroom was honestly just as much as a storage space as it was a hiding spot, and there wasn’t a lot of room to keep things over the centuries. Plus, I was never into material things, so the things I have are mostly necessities rather than memorabilia.”

Hermes shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips. “Ah, the frugal Asian in you really hasn’t disappeared even after all these years, huh?”

“You can take the girl out of Asia, but you can’t take the Asian out of the girl,” Jieun laughs, pushing Hermes out of her room. “Now get out of my room––I have to start doing last minute preparations for the wedding and I can’t do that with an annoying twink in my room.”

“Who are you calling annoying? That’s no way to treat your bellboys! A tip would be very appreciated, by the way,” Hermes whines, but he slips out of the window regardless.

“I’ll give you the tip of my strap if you keep delaying! Now shoo!”

Hermes snorts, winking salaciously at her. “Oh, you know what this baby boy likes, huh?” he says, guffawing loudly when Jieun goes to grab his ankles from her window sill. Floating outside with her suitcase in tow, Hermes gives her one final goofy salute before he is off to deposit the last of her belongings in her new mortal abode.

Left to her own devices once more, Jieun walks over to her closet, where a single white dress hangs loosely like a ghost. She thumbs the fabric, an odd feeling rising up her chest at the sight of it. This is the dress that she would be wearing to the wedding, an heirloom that has been passed down for generations after each Hera has passed the torch to the next. She remembers the previous Hera wearing this exact dress during her union with the previous Zeus, remembers the way the dress had made her previous mentor look spectral in a way––as if she was already gone before she had even left.

The thought jars her, and she rips her hand away. She wipes her palms against her jeans, feeling sweat start to build for whatever reason.

Unwilling to stay in this empty room for much longer, Jieun is thinking of having some last minute checks with Y/N to see how she is holding up when two small bodies crash through the door in a flurry of limbs. Jieun hardly flinches when the two girls stand up in noisily, their giggles giving her the impression that they may not be as a sober as she hopes they would be. Demeter is the first one to straighten up long enough to shoot her a wide smile.

“Hera! What are you doing here being all mopey and sentimental? You’ve got a party to catch!” Demeter laughs, her potent intoxication causing sprouts to grow out of her head. Hestia smiles, more reserved than the younger (or was it elder? Demeter is certainly older when it came to human years) but clearly just as out of it, as she plucks the small plant and tucks it into her own ear.

“I’m not being mopey,” Jieun frowns, mopey. She gives the two other goddesses an appraising look. “And what party are you talking about? I’m assuming it’s my surprise farewell party from the Facebook event that our lovely Eos accidentally invited me to.”

Hestia gasps, slapping her head comically as she looks at Demeter in disbelief. “That stupid bitch! I told you that we should’ve used Eventbrite instead!”

“Either way,” Jieun interrupts, watching as the two continually sway on their feet. “That doesn’t explain why the two of you are already drunk out of your minds when the supposed party hasn’t even started.” She suspects they must have also gotten a hold of Dionysus’ secret stash of godly pot, because she knows the two girls aren’t exactly the lightest drinkers. Either that or the excessive amount of binge watching shitty Netflix shows has finally caused their limited brain cells to deplete.

“Who says the party hasn’t started?” Demeter grins, tugging Jieun by the wrist and out of her room. Before Jieun can turn to take one last look at her old bedroom, Hestia closes the door with a bang, and somehow Jieun knows that this might be one of the last times she’ll ever get to see it.

Hestia has the decency to shoot her a guilty look. “We weren’t purposefully gonna start the party before we brought you there, of course. But Wendy-unnie over here––” Demeter squawks at the use of her human name, slapping her shoulder playfully, but not appearing entirely as offended as Jieun had expected, “––saw that they were serving spiked nectar that Iris stole from Dionysus so really… Can you blame us?”

Jieun rolls her eyes playfully, a smirk gracing her lips. “Of course, that explains everything. How could I be so selfish?”

Demeter manhandles her until they reach the Chariot Room (which is basically just a garage with a mismatch of vehicles from every time period imaginable; they bypass the Hatsune Miku chariot with averted eyes.) They approach one of the more modern vehicles, parked near the exit of the garage. Jieun looks at the license plate and notices that its Artemis’ silver car that she uses when she does her nightly moon journey.

“Please tell me Artemis actually let you take her car and we’re definitely not going to hotwire it––aaaand of course you’re hotwiring it,” Jieun groans, watching helplessly as the two younger girls start doing who knows what to the poor car. If the car had been sentient, she is sure it would be filing a sexual harassment case with how much tinkering they were doing.

“It was her idea to host the party anyway, so sucks to be her!” Hestia says defensively, her brows furrowed in concentration as she conjures magical fire out of her hands to help… whatever it is that Demeter was doing. Jieun does not want to know where Demeter pulled out the tube of toothpaste from, and why it was needed to hotwire a car.

“I really don’t understand why we need to celebrate my departure anyway. It’s not like I’m leaving forever; in fact, I’m probably going to have to deadbolt my apartment to keep you vermin from breaching my privacy,” Jieun jokes, snickering when she sees the affronted look that Hestia shoots her. “What? You look at me as if I were lying.”

“Well, you look at me as if I haven’t been pestering you ever since I turned from drab ol’ human Yeri and into the banging goddess that I am today!” Hestia says, her eyes lighting up gleefully.

Jieun snorts. “You’re right. You’ve been a pain in my ass ever since you existed. How foolish of me to think otherwise.”

Seconds later, Hestia and Demeter make a noise of contentment when the car whirs to life, signalling that whatever they had done had miraculously worked. (Again, Jieun doesn’t want to know, and the less she knows, the easier it is for her to escape Artemis’ wrath later on.)

“But seriously,” Demeter begins, standing up and hopping into the driver’s seat. Before Jieun can even argue, Hestia takes the passenger seat, sticking her tongue out petulantly like the supposedly “banging” goddess that she was. “Artemis and Persephone planned this party mostly to get back on your good side after they got mad at you for making Y/N marry the thunder twerp. Which, I mean… Can you blame them? He’s a fucking loser and Y/N is… Well. Have you seen her ass?”

Jieun jumps into the backseat, a huff of air punched out of her lungs when she realizes she just sat on one of Artemis’ stray buttplugs, poking itself into the small of her back. Jieun gingerly picks it up, throwing it against the back of Hestia’s head. “Yes, I can blame them. At the end of the day, it’s my decision who succeeds me as Hera and I needed to choose quickly because my time was almost up. Y/N just so happened to make the perfect candidate, so they had no right to be angry at my decision.”

Demeter grumbles. “Yeah, I know you’re right. It’s just that we really thought you were on the lesbians’ sides... No wonder you never showed up to the blood compact, traitor,” Demeter says, no bite to her tone. The smirk on her face tells Jieun that she’s far from mad. “Still, I would’ve loved to have Y/N join our little dyke trysts. Do you think maybe she’s bi?”

“Who knows?” Jieun muses, staring out the window as Demeter clicks for the garage doors to open. The sunny open sky greets them as the three women start driving out of Olympus and to wherever it is that the party was located. If Jieun squints hard enough, she thinks she can see the mortals milling about on earth, where she’ll be in just a few more hours. A mortal, once more.

“And besides, there are other mortal girls that Artemis and Persephone can find,” Jieun says, looking away from the view to glance at Demeter’s reflection from the rear-view mirror. When the agricultural goddess notices, she gives her a knowing look.

Despite her inebriation, Demeter manages to safely drive them to the party, which happens to be the mansion where the nine Muses are known to live in. Demeter parks the car haphazardly, uncaring for the rules of parallel parking and all codes of ethics as she takes up the entire driveway before turning off the ignition. Hestia is the first to jump out, stretching her legs and ready to race back towards the party.

“C’mon, slowpokes! The nectar is getting warm,” she calls out, rushing towards the door where the sounds of laughter and singing can be heard even from the garden.

“Remind me to keep her away from the alcohol during the wedding,” Jieun murmurs to Demeter. The other girl only grins wildly, and Jieun knows that there really isn’t any use depending on her when it comes to the topic of sobriety.

Jieun and Demeter follow after Hestia to find the party already in full swing. Demeter loudly announces over the din to tell everyone that the celebrant has arrived, and a chorus of welcome’s come from all around. Jieun flushes under the attention, never one to go to full out raging parties in the first place, least of all the ones dedicated to her. Regardless, she walks around to greet everyone, thanking them for coming despite their inebriation rendering most of them useless to anything other than them replying with raucous giggling and hugging.

Artemis and Persephone somehow find their way towards her, stumbling through the crowd and piling their drunken bodies onto her to capture her in the tightest bear hug imaginable. Jieun laughs under their assault, using up all her strength to pull away long enough to see that their faces are already decorated with lipstick smudges and other stains that Jieun has no desire to learn about.

“Jieeeeeeun, you came!” Artemis cries, rubbing her cheeks against Jieun’s. She already feels the lipstick rubbing itself uncomfortably against her skin, but she does not pull away out of politeness. “I thought you wouldn’t come!”

“And why is that?” Jieun asks, awkwardly patting the babbling younger as she starts to hiccup from both intoxication and excessive emotions. “Also, who told you that you’re allowed to call me by my human name, young lady? I’m still Hera to you until tomorrow evening.”

“Sorry, she’s a little tipsy,” Persephone giggles, prying herself and Artemis away from Jieun to let her take her first breath in over a minute. “But seriously Hera, we’re really sorry about how we acted with the whole Y/N thing. We shouldn’t have gone ballistic on you and called you a hetero on Twitter. That was definitely uncalled for and totally barbaric of us.”

“Don’t worry, kids. I was hardly phased by your insults,” Jieun smirks, giggling at the absolute sorrow and guilt contorting the archer goddess’ face. “Really.”

“But it’s so out of line! No one deserves to be called a het, not when you’re so fucking gorgeous and sexy and hey are you free tomorrow evening––” Artemis starts hiccuping incoherently, and Persephone has to wheel her away before she can embarrass herself further.

“We’ll talk later when I sober her up! Have fun tonight, okay? We’re willing to take our ‘punishment’ later for our terrible crimes, if you know what I mean.” Persephone winks, pushing her friend away to the kitchen, probably to get more drunk and grind against each other. Jieun stores away this scene away into her memory for blackmail later on.

After her encounter with the two hosts, Jieun decides to circle the rest of the room. She greets a few familiar faces, including the actual people who live in this mansion. The Muses that she greets are at various stages of drunk, but most of them welcome her warmly despite their incoherency. When Jieun enters the main dining hall, she can only watch worriedly as the Muse of comedy hangs precariously from the chandelier while wearing nothing but a silk black robe.

“Thalia, don’t make me fucking burn your clit off again! The chandelier is going break under your fat ass. Get down from there or else––SOMI!” Polymnia cries, almost missing a stray foot to the face. The crowd hoots at the display, egging the comedian on. “This is your last warning!”

Jieun chuckles at their antics, but she can’t help but notice that she has only seen eight of the sisters so far. Her palms begin to sweat, knowing full well who the missing Muse is and wonders if she might have chosen not to attend due to the argument that still lies fresh on both their minds. She feels the disappointment start to build up in her stomach, thinking that the Muse of tragedy truly wants to avoid her like she had feared.

After Jieun circles the whole living room to give her regards to all the other party-goers, she decides to head upstairs to one of the balconies to get some fresh air. She sees a few more straggling guests, most of them too preoccupied to properly respond to Jieun’s soft greetings since their faces are currently entrenched in other endeavors at the moment. Still, Jieun doesn’t mind as she passes by the bedrooms to the slide open the balcony door and allow the soft afternoon breeze to caress her face.

Since her eyes are closed when she welcomes the gentle wind to blow around her, she does not immediately notice two things.

One, there is a giant ice sculpture in Jieun’s perfect likeness, with all her curves and imperfections open to the world to see. The summer heat does not melt the sculpture, but this is not a surprise when it comes to the power of gods (plus, someone placed a small ice bath around it, though Jieun does not know why that would be of any help whatsoever.)

Two, she is not alone.

Melpomene stands idly by the edge of the balcony, her gaze trained away from Jieun. She knows that the Muse has noticed her presence, because her shoulders are hunched up in a way that only means that she is on guard and ready to flee at a moment’s notice. The Muse of tragedy stares up at the sky, neither of them saying a word as the two of them quietly listen to the muted music from the party downstairs and the sound of drunken naiads prancing wildly in the gardens.

The sun has begun to descend, but Jieun notices the way it slinks across the sky irregularly, almost as if a toddler were just slapping it across the sky like a tennis ball. Instead of the usual twilight transition that is familiar to most people, the sun appears to transform immediately into the moon, as if a light switch had been turned on and suddenly it was night time. The sky darkens immediately, and the world around them is bathed in stars.

Melpomene must have been sensed Jieun’s confusion because she offers up an explanation, voice scratchy from misuse. She sounds sober, unlike the rest of her sisters. “It’s Apollo. Artemis got him to take her shift as the moon for today,” she says, never once looking back at Jieun. She continues to stare at the random spirals that Jieun now knows is the work of Apollo’s disastrous driving skills. Poor kid.

“Well, he only did become the newest Apollo a few months ago. Although, I wouldn’t say that Artemis should have trusted him to do the night shift when he can hardly do his own day shift,” Jieun comments, pursing her lips as Apollo does a steep nosedive before thankfully going back on course.

Melpomene does not reply. The two of them stand in awkward silence, and Jieun has no idea how to break it. She wants desperately to speak to her, knowing that it wouldn’t sit well if she left Olympus knowing that one of her dearest friends stayed mad at her. She fidgets beside her, mouth opening and closing shut as she thinks of something to talk about.

“Hah, speaking of Apollo… Do you remember who came before him? I never even knew his human name,” Jieun starts, already beginning to spew out whatever nonsense comes to mind.

“Never really liked the sixth generation Apollo. He always gave off a lecherous vibe, and we were all so excited to see him leave. I remember how Hermes had gifted him a stink bomb disguised as a bath bomb for a goodbye gift… I could smell the stench all the way from Olympus. I’m lowkey worried that all of you are itching to kick me off as well and pull a stink bomb on me,” Jieun jokes, but her voice cracks imperceptibly, giving herself away.

Even though she tries to keep her voice lighthearted, deep down, she doesn’t even know if anyone will actually be sorry to see her gone. Sure, this party is dedicated to her, but that’s hardly a reason for her to believe that any of these people like her. Olympians are notorious for latching on to any reason to throw a party; hell, she solemnly remembers when Poseidon’s goldfish laid its first egg and they had partied for a whole week.

At the end of the day, she is just another mortal. Who is she to expect that anyone would remember her in a few thousand centuries?

There is something about her words and her tone that makes Melpomene snap out of her silence, eyes blazing with a fury so intense that it surprises Jieun. She gapes at the angry brunette, who corners her to the edge of the balcony until her butt bumps against the cool surface. When Jieun looks over her shoulder, she sees that the naiads from the garden have gone elsewhere, leaving the two of them alone.

Melpomene jabs her finger right into Jieun’s sternum, her hand shaking with emotion. “How fucking dare you insinuate that no one will miss you. How fucking dare you think that anyone would ever forget you!”

For a moment, Jieun is at a loss for words. Jieun splutters indignantly, wondering where Melpomene’s misplaced anger was coming from. She stares wide-eyed at the younger and wonders if her irritation stems from something more. “It was just a joke,” she says, lamely.

“A joke? Is that what you think everything is?” Melpomene laughs, and Jieun thinks the flower inside her heart wilts at the sound. It’s harsh, a sound wave that grates against her eardrums. The younger is never one to laugh without mirth, despite the nature of her role as the Muse of tragedy, but Jieun knows that the tormented tone in her voice is no longer because of the tragic tales she weaves in her stories––

It’s because of her.

“You betrayed us, didn’t you know? We all thought that we had more years to spend with you, and you just suddenly drop the bomb on us that your death day was coming,” she cries out, tears welling up in her eyes. Jieun’s hands itch to wipe them away. “Do you have any idea how terrible it is to find out that the person you love more than anyone in the world is going to leave you forever?”

Love. She loves her.

Somehow, the words don’t make sense to her.

“I’m not going to leave forever,” Jieun says instead, irises flitting about and unable to stay still. Her legs burn where they touch Melpomene’s own, and she wants to pull her closer and never let go. “I already told you last week that you’ll be able to visit me as a human until the Fates cut my string. I didn’t betray anyone.”

The tragedian’s nostrils flare, and she clutches Jieun’s shoulders tightly, as if she was afraid she would disappear if she didn’t hold on quick enough. When Jieun observes her closely, she notices the way her lips quiver with the effort of keeping it together. I did this to her, Jieun thinks sadly. Is this what love does?

“Did I mean nothing to you, then?” Melpomene murmurs, voice shaky as a leaf. She digs her nails into the back of Jieun’s shoulders, but she doesn’t mind the pain if it lets the younger steady herself. Anything. Take anything from me.

“If I truly meant something to you, you would’ve known that things like this matter to me. You should’ve cared, but you didn’t.”

Jieun exhales, tongue thick in her mouth. “Sana––”

“Don’t call me that!” She shouts, wrenching her hands away from her body as if she had been burned. Her absence hurt Jieun more than any of the scars from the wars she has fought––not even the agony of Zeus’ lightning bolt can compare to this pain. Melpomene stalks away from her, and it is only when she separates herself from Jieun that she allows the tears to fall.

Even when she was crying, Jieun can’t help but think that she is the most beautiful person that she has ever seen.

“Mel,” Jieun tries again. It hurts knowing that she has probably lost the precious gift of being able to call her by her true name, and it twists her heart painfully to realize that she will never get to experience the sweet taste of her name on her tongue ever again. “None of us are immortal, Mel. We’re all bound to pass, just like our predecessors. You should have known my time was limited. And besides, we’ll meet again in the Underworld––”

“Don’t you get it?” she seethes. She turns away from Jieun then, not allowing her the opportunity to watch helplessly as the only girl she’s ever cared for starts to openly weep for her, a living corpse. The weight of time has never felt so suffocating until then. “The Underworld is different. By then, it would have been centuries of us having to stay apart, and who is to say we’ll find each other again? Hades told me how difficult it is for lovers to reunite and how they often forget about each other by the time they do meet again. How can you be so nonchalant about this––?”

“Melpomene, my love,” Jieun whispers, and she takes a tentative step towards her. When she gingerly places a palm against her back, she feels the younger tense, but she does not move away. Jieun carefully slides her arms around her waist, embracing her loosely as she nuzzles her face into her back. She takes a shaky breath. “I’m still here, aren’t I? We lasted centuries before ever meeting, and I’m sure I’ll keep waiting for you for another more. Why worry so soon when we have time?”

At her words, Melpomene starts to shake violently, the sound of her sobs echoing into the night. Jieun refuses to let go, trying so hard to make the other girl understand she hasn’t died––not yet. She’s only ever felt alive whenever she’s around the tragedian, and that hasn’t changed even after centuries of stolen kisses in the meadows and whispered promises in the shadows.

Even in the light, those promises will hold true. Jieun will make sure of it.

“I’m scared,” Melpomene eventually says after a few minutes of sobbing, still faced away from her lover in fear of breaking more. But when Jieun gently cups her cheeks to face her, she can’t help but follow her touch like a moth to a flame. Jieun’s heart breaks at the sight of her swollen eyes, the look of pure devastation spilling the contents of her soul to anyone who can see. Melpomene continues, “I’m scared that we’ll forget.”

“I know,” Jieun whispers, and she suddenly notices the wetness on her own face––she’s been crying, too. Melpomene begins to brush them away, just as Jieun goes to brush them off as well. Melpomene lets out a watery giggle when their hands clumsily bump against each other.

Jieun grabs her hand before she can pull away. She squeezes tight. “It’s fine to be scared, you know? And I know it’s hard to see me go, but is it really harder to believe that I won’t leave you alone?”

“It’s not, but I can’t help but worry––”

“Mel, I have to tell you something,” Jieun interrupts, and she tries to sound firm to fully make her understand. She wants––no, needs her to understand that there is nothing to fear. “My time with you has meant so much to me, even more so than the time I spent with my own husband. You know this, don’t you?”

At the mention of the god of thunder, Melpomene lets out another bitter laugh like before, and a single fat tear rolls down her face. “Ah, Zeus. How could I forget? At the end of the day, how am I even sure that you felt the same way I did? I was only a mistress––a secret kept away from everyone because you had to keep your queenly status. Whereas for me? I was just someone you fancied when there was no one to hold, someone to keep your bed warm––”

“That’s not true,” Jieun says, staring wide-eyed at the girl’s accusation. “You know that’s not true. I cared for you more than I can even bare to handle.”

“Don’t lie. I’ve seen the way you look at Zeus,” Melpomene counters, head shaking in exhaustion. She’s no longer angry, only tired from all the worries and anxieties that have haunted her for years, perhaps even for centuries. “You might not know it, but you always did look sad when you looked at him, because you knew that he would never love you the way you loved him.”

“It’s true that I love him,” Jieun begins, taking a shuddering breath. She lets out a laugh of her own, as mirthless and weary as she felt. “But it’s not the same way I feel for you.”

At those words, Melpomene scoffs, pulling away from Jieun. She begins to walk away, gaze downcast as she goes to slide open the balcony door and rejoin the party. “Even now, you can’t say those three words back to me,” she murmurs, putting on the strongest smile she can muster. It disappears just as quickly as the wind.

Before Melpomene can walk away far enough, Jieun rushes towards her and grasps her hand in her own. It isn’t even strong enough to really stop her, and Jieun’s loose grip tells Melpomene that she can leave if she really wants to.

But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

She doesn’t because she can’t, and wouldn’t want to. Despite all the worries bubbling within her, all of them threatening to erupt and destroy everything that she has come to know and love, there is one thing that keeps Melpomene sane. It is just so unfortunate that the same person who used to make her heart flutter and her soul sing symphonies is the very same person who has the power to cause everything to fall apart.

At the end of the day, she is only mortal. She can pretend to be the Muse of tragedy, who is able to weave sorrow into words just as quickly as a seasoned archer is able to draw their bow. All the talent in the world can never erase the fact that she is just a girl, and she fears just as much as she loves.

When Jieun leans forward, her breath mingling with hers in a slow waltz, the stars reflect themselves off of her eyes. They were made for you, is the last thing thinks Melpomene before her lips are millimeters away from her lover’s, until the space between them is nothing more than something that happened once in a dream. Jieun’s gravity pulls her closer still, until there is nothing more to give.

I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, her heart beat thunders against her eardrums, urging Jieun to hear. She wonders if she has doomed herself, like the protagonists in her tragedies.

Melpomene pulls away for a split second, enough to gather air into her lungs which she will inevitably waste as she presses against Jieun and she is left breathless and lightheaded. This. This is what I will remember during the nights we will spend away from another. I hope you don’t forget them, too.

The party downstairs continues to rage on. The two lovers kiss by the balcony, with an audience of stars to keep them company. Melpomene fools herself into thinking that time will wait for them, if she just prays hard enough.

But she knows how tragedies end, and so she weeps.

#kreativewritersnet #iu scenarios #jieun scenarios #sana scenarios #sana imagines #twice scenarios #iu imagines #jieun imagines #WOW my second time writing a fic for another fandom... wig lmao #anyway if u wanna commission me check out my patreon!!#if you wanna read the context for this fic check out my smau titled til death to us part (tddup) to read more!!

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gaynoctgar · 6 years

Text

Thoughts about Prompto’s arc in “Brotherhood”

The real title, for now, is something like “Prompto being formerly fat was not even remotely necessary and was offensively handled” or “Haley rants about Brotherhood because it’s so fatphobic”

TW: eating disorders, fatphobia.

It’s also incredibly long, but I really want to share my thoughts.

Update: 10-4-2018: inspired by comments and tags, I added more examples of dialogue that exemplifies the problem

Update: 22-4-2018: accounting for the new “official profiles”...it got worse, everyone.

Oh Prompto. Prompto Argentum. My beloved, sweet, beautiful bi boy who could have had a much more satisfying arc. They really tried, didn’t they? They tried to give you a touching backstory and instead exposed their fatphobia. And as for the bi part, well, that’s another essay in and of itself....stay tuned everyone.

Yes, this is one of those posts. That’s why I put all of this under a “Keep reading.” It’s just something that has been subtly bothering me for a long time and I thought I’d give this short essay format a try. There will be a TL;DR at the end, I suppose, but please read through this if you are interested in this aspect that I feel is both underexplored and overexploited about my most favorite character in anything ever.

A bit about myself before we begin: I am rather chubby. I’m 5’4” (162cm) and 220 lbs (100 kg), and I have struggled off and on with eating disorders since I was in high school. I do realize this makes me “obese,” but this essay isn’t about that. Rather, it is about how fatness and obesity is often portrayed in media as a character flaw, or something to overcome, and my own feelings about why this is harmful. To be clear, I want to make two major points with this: 1) Prompto being “formerly fat” is not something that was even remotely necessary for his character arc and its inclusion and resolution are nothing short of fatphobic and; 2) the fact that Prompto receives his character development via losing weight in Brotherhood is emblematic of every problem I have with how media chooses to include fat people.

These points are incredibly intertwined, so let’s start by exploring what was intended by the episode. I want to be clear and demonstrate that I fully understand what the episode intended to show, and I will continue to acknowledge what the likely intent was. This essay/rant is critiquing the execution.

If the point of Brotherhood was to suggest that Prompto had a lonely childhood until he met Noctis, that’s great! I understand that that’s what Brotherhood was showing. HOWEVER. I have been sickened, from the moment I saw his episode, with how his journey to lose weight was correlated with his journey to “be good enough” to be Noct’s friend. Let me be clear. I understand that we are supposed to interpret this as a character flaw on Prompto’s part, and we see in the gayest scene the rooftop motel scene that losing weight did not resolve Prompto’s self-confidence. I know that. What I am saying is that him losing weight was in no was necessary to include, at least not in the way that they did. There are some ugly implicit implications here, not least of which is that eating nothing but salads is, I would argue, just as unhealthy as what he was doing before. The show treats it as a positive good that Prompto appears to be starving himself and thinking obsessively about losing weight, and that is what I am taking issue with.

I, personally, detest the “formerly fat” trope and all its incarnations. Wouldn’t it simply have been enough to say that Prompto was painfully shy (he was) and very lonely (he was)? Why do these feelings have to be justified via his body? Was there no other way you could justify Prompto simply being too shy to talk to Noct? Noct’s the prince, Prompto is a commoner who feels that he’s nothing particularly special…would this not have been enough? Doing it the way that they did implies that being fat is a moral and character flaw that needs to be corrected in order for you to be seen as a hero. That is what I am taking issue with.

And yes, I realize that the “weight loss journey” is jump-started by the fact that babby Noct says “heavy…” when trying to help Prompto to his feet. Believe me, I understand first-hand how much that hurts. I faced many similar instances in my own life. I can’t blame him for saying it, he’s a kid, but I do want to point out that Noct never apologizes for this. You could say “he didn’t realize he was wrong” but maybe you could have had a scene where Noct wonders why the cute boy with the camera is avoiding him, and Ignis can say something like “well, did you do or say anything that might have upset him?” and Noct can actually apologize for hurting Prompto’s feelings. This is not unreasonable to expect. When I was a kid and people were avoiding me, my mom always asked me to think back on why that might be. It’s part of growing up and learning that your words and actions have consequences.

TO BE FAIR: I do think the motel scene was an attempt to rectify all of this in the game. While Prompto formerly being fat is not explicitly mentioned, he is mortified that Noct remembers him back in elementary school. Now, I love Noct, but he’s stupid sometimes, and not very intuitive. This is, however, in his character, and I will allow it because the very next thing he says is “You should have said something sooner.” This shows Prompto (and the audience) that Noct doesn’t give two shits about how Prompto looks, now or ever, and I am happy that this was included. However, there is no given reason behind why Noct couldn’t simply talk to Prompto himself beforehand. Like I said, Noct is an idiot, and also a lot more shy and awkward than he lets on. But this moment was sweet between them, even if you don’t ship promptis, and I do think it is fair to mention it.

However, coupling all of this with the fact that the “character sheets” show us that Prompto does, canonically, have a fear of gaining weight, as well as these little snippets of dialogue…

Prompto: Hey, let’s hit up the Crow’s Nest!

Ignis: If you wish to put on weight? Certainly.

Prompto: *sighs* Yeah, I know…

(I swear to god every time I get this dialogue I SCREAM at Ignis, how is this even remotely okay to say to your friend who you damn well know has problems with his weight and there’s no way you don’t know this--)

EDIT: The addition of this quote is based on the tags from @gentiuna, I knew I was forgetting something!

Noct: Why is your face so fat?

Prompto: I’m NOT fat!!

(I swear to Jesus you’re on thin fucking ice with me Noct, that’s not even remotely funny and you need a time out to think about what you’ve done--)

This one I have only gotten once in my ~400 hrs of play but I swear I didn’t make it up; if anyone finds the specific words, I will correct it:

Ignis: talks about food and how it’s “anything your heart wants” or something

Prompto: Yeah, it’s the wanting that’s the problem.

I think this was intended to be a nod to Brotherhood but (and @bernielu can back me up on this) I SCREAMED when I heard it. How is that REMOTELY okay? Nobody even REACTS to this, or asks if Prompto is okay, or ask him why the FUCK he would say that.

This is when it becomes pertinent, I think, to discuss my own experience with eating disorders. I have wonderful friends and family, and I’m well on the road to recovery, but back when I was in high school, I just straight up wouldn’t bring food to lunch. Retroactively, I realize they all brought extra, hoping I would get just hungry enough to pick at the scraps (I usually did), and that was their way of helping me and showing me that they cared. It can be hard to want food sometimes. As offensive as I find its inclusion, I do think that’s an accurate way of representing how it can feel: you know that food is good, and you know that you are hungry, but it’s wanting to eat it that’s a problem. Here’s my issue: that should have raised everyone’s red flags, and the fact that nobody, NOT EVEN NOCT, WHO WE CAN EXPECT TO KNOW ABOUT THIS, says ANYTHING about this, and the game writes it off as another one of its Infamous Banters ™….it’s not looking great. It’s not looking like representation, to me. It’s looking like erasure and fatphobia.

Babby Prompto is supposed to be viewed with pity but also, I think, with disdain: by the audience and by Prompto himself. I’ve noticed in many fics that the fans like to almost romanticize this aspect of him, and explore that he has an eating disorder which is…I don’t’ like it because most of these fics come to the same conclusion: Prompto ends up skinny anyway and it’s just a quirk about him. This is what I meant when I said that I feel this is overexploited, earlier in the essay, but also underdeveloped in the sense that they basically, in my opinion, show this as something that Prompto had to “get over” to be a real protagonist. They don’t go into how fucked up Prompto’s psyche must be from this. It’s just kinda…ignored.

UPDATE 22-4-2018: I’ve got to get this off my chest, the new “Official Works Profile” for Prompto made all of this worse. It literally outright states that, after rescuing Pryna, Prompto “decided “to become the right sort of person for a Prince” and worked to change himself. It also refers to Prompto having a “pudgy youth” as if that were a bad thing. It also says “Incidentally, Prompto’s photography hobby developed when he was dieting and took photos to record his weight loss progress.” Not gonna lie, this one made me physically ill. There was literally no reason for that other than to imply that being fat is somehow immoral. Why is Prompto’s “personal resolve” equated to losing weight? Why couldn’t it simply have been to be more outgoing? I’m fucking ANGRY, I’m done being polite about this.

My solution, then? Well, one of two things: 1) don’t make Prompto fat to justify his bad childhood if you know you’re just gonna make him thin and completely ignore that he was ever different, which is my preferred solution, or 2) have at least one character be bigger and that’s just how they are and it’s not made into a plot point or anything.

A final note: I KNOW people can and do drop tremendous amounts of weight, and I want to be clear that I am not suggesting this is bad or that people shouldn’t do it. A person’s weight and their relationship to it is their own business, and as long as people have a healthy relationship with their body, I’m not one to judge. I know that we are supposed to see Prompto’s weight loss as heroic and a strong example of his dedication to Noctis. And sure, we get that. But maybe I have convinced you that the development we get comes at the cost of fatphobia, at least in terms of how it was portrayed here.

TL;DR: Prompto didn’t need to be fat to develop his character, and its inclusion and treatment in the narrative of Brotherhood suggest an uncomfortable degree of fatphobia.

If you stuck around for the whole thing, thank you so much for reading my thoughts. It’s something that has been bubbling up in me for months, and now I am finally able to put it in words. <3

#tw eating disorders #tw fatphobia #please take care of yourselves with this one #haley talks #haley has opinions #haley has a soapbox #it's just something i've been thinking about for a long time #ever since i first saw it i knew something wasn't right #brotherhood #prompto argentum #text post #long post #first try at an essay about this #let's see how it goes #i do not know how to format this on mobile so it will show up weird there #i'm sorry

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thelillykane · 7 years

Note

for the salty ask meme #6 #1 #4 #5 and #12 Just pour all the salt, jennie!

oh my god i just refound this in my ask box so sit tight i’m gonna try & answer real quick~~~

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get? + 4. Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?

as always, the answer is l*cas and p*yton like!!! it doesn’t make sense to me AT ALL how people ship this couple and consider them to be like soulmates when l*cas spends half of season one, all of seasons 2 & 3, half of season four, and the majority of season five being blatantly and vocally in love with other women* (mostly brooke but then in season five he’s literally engaged to and planning to marry lindsay and um friendly reminder kids that he’s not the one that calls off the wedding!!! he’s not at the altar going “yeah i love p*yton” he’s literally…devastated when lindsay leaves him and he even tries to win her back but like sure ok i guess he loves p*yton)

also, like…p*yton literally only wants to date him the second he becomes unavailable which isn’t even me being mean it’s just the goddamn truth!! he wants to date her in s1, she isn’t interested, and then he starts to move on (and she finds out brooke has a crush on him let’s sip that fucking tea together) and she decides she wants him!!!. and then she does the same thing in season five when he asks her to marry her and she says no so he?? moves on like anyone who got rejected would do and THAT’S WHEN SHE FLIPS HER SHIT and is like “oh well when you were eighteen-twenty you wrote a book where you promised to love me forever so you can’t get engaged to someone else even though yeah i started dating julian like a week after i said no to you”

and tHEN when they weren’t pissing me off on screen by treating everyone (brooke) like trash they were boring!!! like how tf

ALSO LISTEN the fact that not only does the show do a 180 and be like “oh lol l*cas always loved her even when he literally was repulsed by the mention of still having feelings for her” BUT THEY ALWAYS TRY TO PRETEND LIKE EVERYONE ELSE IN TREE HILL WAS WAITING FOR THEM TO BE TOGETHER AND NO ONE WAS haley – l*cas’ best friend!!!! – is vocally against them being together on like 3 fucking occasions minimum, nathan is 100189001 team brooke penelope davis, karen & keith – lucas’ PARENTS – actually take the time to get to know brooke and end up rooting for her and her happiness both individually and w/ their son and they never bother to do that w/ p*yton, skills literally calls l*cas out on his behavior and calls p*yton out on hers (re: them being shitty af) but then two eps later is all ~lol i was a fan~ when he clearly wasn’t, i could fucking go on but you see my point like…no one wanted them to be together including them

the way they treat brooke formerly gets its own bullet point because oh my god even thinking about it makes my blood boil like 98% of the time i’m fucking i’m pissed

also re: them being ~soulmates~ and they ~were meant to be together from ep 1**~ hilarie burton, who plays p*yton, literally came out in an interview this year and said that they never intended, to her knowledge, as the actress PLAYING P*YTON!!, for l*yton to end up together but that the show switched gears around season four iirc (because sophia bush wasn’t super comfortable filming endless romantic shit with her ex husband who had cheated on her which i support fully)

ALSO i could be wrong but like….i’m pretty sure l*cas kisses brooke in every season he’s a main in (the s6 is a fakeout flash forward in which he lowkey envisions himself marrying brooke and lemme tell you that sure doesn’t seem like he’s super committed to p*yton) and you can’t say the same for him and p*yton (again i might be wrong but i don’t think they kiss in season 2) and they only kiss in season 3 because peyton thinks she’s gonna die and he’s sitting right there

^ the above is arguably the pettiest bullet point on here but i don’t give a FUCK i hate this fictional couple with every atom i possess

FUCK !!!! LISTEN that stupid “you’re always saving me thing” that p*yton says to him and it’s supposed to be romantic like lol he literally didn’t even go into the school for her that day!!! like sure once he’s in there he ends up saving her but that isn’t even what he wanted to do!!! he goes into the school to try and get nathan and to make sure nathan doesn’t get hurt!! when brooke is sobbing telling him she lost track of p*yton when she was getting out of the building l*cas doesn’t get all White Knight and go in to save her he literally was gonna stay with brooke!!! who he loves!!! (there’s an instance similar to this in season one where he only ~saves~ her because he is like…around when brooke is trying to get help for p*yton and probably others too but that’s the BIG one)

ALSO OH MY GOD in season 3 when they make p*yton realize she loves l*ke again they do it in the dumbest way??? she’s literally…with j*ke and she is asleep and mumbles l*kes name and then j*ke is like “u said his name in ur sleep u don’t want to be with me” and dumps her while she’s crying and saying she flat out doesn’t love l*cas (but then she has no one else so she’s like lol what the heck i guess i will love him romantically)

and btw that^ is another instance where it wasn’t p*yton choosing to be with l*cas it was literally someone deciding NOT to be with her…which come to think of it is how they always get together? like?? they never choose to be with one another except in season one after they fucking cheat on brooke like dirtbags and then l*ke dumps brooke to be with p*yton but after that they literally..only pick each other as last resorts because they have no one else. like lmao!!! that is not my idea of grand romance otp it’s literally…sad in the pathetic, embarrassing way

*idr season six that well but i am willing to bet he does it a little bit during this season as well (also from what i remember they literally…stopped writing scenes w/ him and brooke one on one together because they knew the audience would take one look at those scenes and KNOW he still loved her and not p*yton)

also um brooke/lucas parallel nathan/haley so much so it’s just so fake whenever people try and say they weren’t the intended endgame for a while there like…look at the parallels. open your eyes.

anyway y’all i could probably keep going i am the most bitter and angry about them always and there’s literally 200+ things that are just ??? about them it’s Too Easy

oh also fandom jumo but uh piper/l*o from charmed are boring as shit they’re okay in s1-2 and after that i was like hey can we get him off my screen thanks

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

I don’t think “ruined” is the right term, but there are definitely some ships that I saw overhyped imo and then when I watched the show I was…underwhelmed. (I’m referring specifically to Ch*ck/S*rah when I type this because the never ending will they-won’t they was just fucking exhausting and by season 3 – which is where i am currently on hiatus – when they actually got together i just could not bring myself to care) (also she can do better and deserves better and season 3 chuck is like the worst version of him so far but)

6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?

not to my knowledge!

12. Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?

i was just talking about this the other day with amanda!! (i would normally tag her but she loves l*yton and i respect that so i’m not gonna make her see the seven paragraphs in which i Destroy them)

essentially we talked about how everyone needs to back up off of season three of veronica mars. like, sure, compared to seasons one and two it’s not as good, but even those seasons have stuff i don’t like such as: gross rape plots, needless and unwelcome attempts at love triangles, sidelining of POC characters for ?? reasons (it’s racism y’all, that’s the reason), sidelining of female characters for White Male Development (re: Mac not becoming a regular that season while Dick & Cassidy both did), etc. and all of those reasons are the big reasons why people shit on season three but [dennis reynolds voice] newsflash asshole! it was there the entire goddamn time

^to continue the above, i think season three has SO MANY POSITIVES AS WELL for example: logan canonically tells veronica mars that he loves her. um. that’s Good Shit. also!!!: parker lee is there, weevil working w/ keith mars for a bit, logan and veronica making out on the stairs to fidelity by regina spektor, holy fuck does veronica mars love logan echolls so much, THAT SCENE WHEN LOGAN APOLOGIZES TO VERONICA AGAIN!!, BEATS UP GORY SORKIN BECAUSE HE’S RUDE AF TO VERONICA, SHRUGS WHEN GORY THREATENS HIS LIFE, IMMEDIATELY GOES AND APOLOGIZES TO PIZ, AND THEN VERONICA WATCHES HIM WALK AWAY BEAMING WITH HEARTS IN HER EYES LIKE THAT SCENE IS IN SEASON THREE YOU GUYS IT’S RIGHT THERE and then like!!! there’s quality eps in there that i love with my whole heart~~ wichita linebacker!!! poughkeepsie tramps and thieves!!! postgame mortem!!! charlie don’t surf!!!

in summary: like…yeah parts of it were geuninely awful. just..like….the rest of the seasons. and the movie. which is like.. another Thing

also fandom jump again but uh Rory’s decision to leave Yale in season six was absolutely the right one for her to make and Lorelai is the fucking worst about it. and if Lorelai hadn’t overreacted and ostracized Rory over it Rory would’ve gone back to Yale and lot sooner and that’s what you missed on Glee

#cariebishop #jennie interacts with people #anti leyton #buffys #victoria pls come drag l*yton w me #don't look amanda

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kaylajamesgrey · 5 years

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Early Works: Little White Lies

I just want to start off by saying that I've never been that girl. You know, the cliched romantic who's just waiting for the right guy to come along and sweep her off her feet. The girl who dates the bad boy, gets abused emotionally or physically and withdraws from life. Then her best friend magically appears out of nowhere and saves her from said bad boy. That's not me.

Sure, I dated a notorious bad boy not too long ago. And yeah, he was a jerk. And sure, my Best Friend came to my rescue and helped my leave Heartbreaker. But I'm not in love with him. ...Ok, so I'm a terrible liar. And I suppose it just makes it even more cliche if I tell you I never meant for it to happen. It just did.

Best Friend and I have been friends for years. We met back in Pre-K when we were both sent to the time out corner for eating crayons. Bonding over our mutual dislike of the other kids and our shared favoritism for the color red, we were inseparable. All the way through the rest of the year and through elementary school it was easy. Middle school was a little tougher, with people always asking if we were dating. (I never really understood how anyone could "date" at that time in their life but that's a different story.) High school was actually easier on our friendship than middle school. By then people realized that guys and girls could be friends and we didn't have to define our relationship. Looking back, I realize that may have been the problem. They were right: hindsight is 20/20.

Anyway, back to high school. Our friendship was pretty convenient. I found that my problems were easier to understand from a guys point of view and I assume he felt the same way because he frequently asked me for advice as well. Yeah, I had girl friends, we couldn't talk about everything, but most of my time was spent with him. And then I met Heartbreaker.

He was supremely popular. I've never been a loser but I'm not exactly A-List material. I was somewhere in the middle. But once people found out that a popular guy was interested in me, they started treating me differently. I admit, I got a little carried away with all the attention. So much that when Heartbreaker asked me to stop spending so much time with Best Friend, I barely hesitated. Anything to stay in the good graces of the cool crowd and the guy who I was sure was my soulmate. Never mind the fact that he was controlling and mean. He loved me, he said. It was in my best interests to do what he wanted, he said.

Long story short, Best Friend pulled an intervention. He showed me how stupid I was being and helped me find the strength to break it off with Heartbreaker. Turns out he was cheating on me anyway, but that's not the point. Best Friend was my knight in shining armor. I think that might have been when I first started falling for him.

After months, three to be exact, of dealing with these new feelings for Best Friend, I decided to tell him. I know I should have said something earlier but hey, getting the courage to talk about your feelings isn't easy. Anyway, better late than never, right?

So Best Friend walks up to me. I was really nervous because what I was about to suggest was in major violation of the male/female friendship code. "Hey." A one word greeting? He had to know that something was up. Where was the insulting nickname? The random and useless fact? I would've slapped myself but that would have drawn even more attention to my weird behavior.

"Hey Ladyface." He did the typical nod that seemed to be a common greeting for males.

"I have something I want to tell you." I was starting to think that maybe I had been taken control of by aliens or possibly possessed because this was not going to plan at all.

"I've got something to tell you too." I don't know how I could have missed it before but I finally noticed now the expression on his face. He seemed happy, or was he nervous? No, he was like an excited puppy. What had him squirming around like an ADHD six-year-old?

"You go first." That would take the pressure off of me. I'd let him talk, gather my thoughts while he mumbled about his newest random discovery, then tell him.

"You know Haley?"

I nodded. Who didn't know her? She was one of the elites, probably the most popular girl in school. She was rich, pretty...and completely evil. You'd think her name is pronounced hay-lee, right? Wrong. Don't call her hay-lee. Never call her hay-lee. It's hal-lee. I'd had more than a few run-ins with It's-Hal-Not-Hay this year alone. Psycho. She's also been rumored to be the school slut. Considering how fast she cycles through boyfriends - and that unfortunate time I happened to walk around the back of the school - that one's probably true.

"We're going out."

I continued to nod for a second then froze. "Wait...what?"

"I'm dating Haley now." He seemed pleased with the idea. It made me want to throw up.

"Wh...when did this happen?"

"Last hour." He finally seemed to catch on that we weren't on the same page, excitement wise. "Look, I know we usually talk about these kind of things before we act but things were going pretty well and then she just asked me. And I'd be stupid to say no to her." He looked away for a moment and I took the time to wipe my eyes in case it looked like I was crying. When he looked back, I tried to make it look like I was scratching my nose. I'm not sure he bought it though. He looked at me for a second, then kind of sighed. "I've got to go. I'm going to go meet up with her for lunch. You'll be okay with the girls, right?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm fine." I did my best to sound convincing but like I said before, I'm a terrible liar. "Have fun."

I turned and walked away, searching for my other friends. What the hell just happened? How did things get so off-track? What happened to my plan? What about the script in my head? I knew it wasn't going to go exactly the way I wanted it to but adding new characters into the scene was just wrong. I rubbed my eyes again. I was not going to cry. Not at school, not where anyone could see me.

I was happy for him, really. I mean, I love him, I've figured that much out. And when you love someone, you want them to be happy, right? Even if it means you're not? He seemed pretty happy talking about New Girlfriend. So I guess I have to be happy for him. And I am...sort of. Ok, so I'm also upset. And mad. Mad at myself for not acting sooner. Mad at him for picking her. And mad at that skank for somehow brainwashing him into liking her. Who hasn't heard about her trashy reputation? It was all over the school - literally. The bathroom graffiti alone could be used for a resume should she ever decide to go into prostitution.

To be honest, I'm not sure how I get through those next few weeks. I don't know if she had a way of knowing people's secret pain, but New Girlfriend took it upon herself to become my new BFF. Maybe she was just trying to get to know her boyfriend's best friend. And maybe the terrorists weren't trying to blow us up. Maybe they just wanted to invite us to a pool party. Yeah right.

There was one good thing about spending less time with Best Friend - I got to hang out with my other friends, particularly my cousin who went to a nearby high school. Her parents had recently divorced and I took it upon myself to try and make her feel better. Cousin's school was putting on a carnival and I had promised to go with her. It wasn't my usual scene but at least I got away from New Girlfriend for the day. I'm pretty sure she would have tried to tag along if she wasn't busy working or something. One thing that I noticed was that New Girlfriend was kind of clingy.

So I went to the carnival at Cousin's school and to be honest, it wasn't as bad as I expected. It was actually kind of fun. The games weren't totally lame, the food was good and there was an actual band there. I had fun...at least until Cousin told me that the band was actually Heartbreaker's new project. I choked on my pretzel.

"What?" I glared at her. "You never mentioned that he would be here."

"Sorry," she mumbled, not meeting my eyes. Good to know she felt guilty. It was a little late for that now though.

"Ugh. Whatever. It's not that bad I guess...just give me a heads up next time, ok?" It was hard to stay mad at her.

She smiled. "I will. I swear. And hey, it's not like you'll see him much anyway. He'll be hanging all over his girlfriend Haley."

Ok, we seriously needed to talk about her lack of tact. Even if I left him, the last thing I wanted to hear about was my ex with some girl named...Pause. Rewind. "Did you say HAL-lee?" How many people had that unusual pronunciation?

"Yeah, don't call her Hay-lee. She'll bitch you out." Maybe I was being paranoid, but how many girls in this town had that name with that pronunciation and were that anal about it? This couldn't be a coincidence.

"Long, wavy brown hair down to here?" I drew my hand across my chest, just under the neckline of my shirt. "Acts like an airhead?"

"The hair description fits but the airhead part doesn't. She seems pretty smart in a ruthless dictator sort of way."

That fraud. I should have known that Jessica Simpson act was just that - an act. She was probably trying to keep me from figuring out that she had another boyfriend. Come to think of it, I bet she didn't have a job. Why would she? Her family was loaded. "Does she go to my school?"

"Yeah...why, do you know her?"

"You could say that...." I looked around. "Is she here?"

Cousin's eyes scanned the crowd. After a few seconds, her baby blues narrowed like she caught a whiff of something awful. "Right there."

Following her pointing finger, I looked across the gym. Standing there in her typical too-short miniskirt and a semi-cute blue tank (one that we had bought together actually) was...New Girlfriend. The over processed hair gave it away even before I saw her face. Not that I could see much of it. She was pressed tightly against Heartbreaker, playing what looked like an Olympic round of tonsil hockey. It made me want to throw up. "That bitch."

Cousin looked confused but I didn't have time to explain. I had to get out of there before New Girlfriend saw me. I quickly made my excuses, then left. I got into my car and drove around, trying to process this new information.

I'd have to be an idiot to not realize how this changed everything. I had to decide what, if anything, to do with this new information. Best Friend's happiness, and possibly mine, rested on my decision. When I realized I was too distracted to drive, I pulled into the parking lot of the park halfway between Best Friend's house and my own. Ironic, if you think about it. Growing up, Best Friend and I used to use this as our meeting point when we went places together. A lot of good memories were made in this park. It was only fitting that one of the most important decisions in our friendship would be made here.

On one hand, I could tell him what I saw. I could tell him that New Girlfriend was a cheating, lying whore and just exactly what I saw at the carnival. He would break up with her, leaving him free to date other people. People like me. But he would hurt. He trusted her and he seemed to really like her.

And what if? What if he didn't break up with her. What if he stayed with her because he liked her that much? Or what if he didn't believe me? What if he thought I was lying? He could stop being my friend. Or what if he did break up with her, and I did tell him how I felt. What if he didn't feel the same way? What would that do to our friendship? I put my head in my hands and sighed. I couldn't tell which outcome was worse.

I sat in that park, thinking of all the possible outcomes. That's where I was now, sitting in a patch of grass under the tree we used to climb. That's where Best Friend found me.

"Hey Ladyface." He sat down next to me and started pulling up random blades of grass.

"Hey." My voice was soft. Could he tell something was wrong?

"What's up?" He sounded concerned. Of course he could tell. It usually made me smile, knowing that he knew me so well, but right then I didn't want to deal with it. I still hadn't made my decision.

"It's our park." I swept my hands out, gesturing at our surroundings. It wasn't an answer but I hoped it would make him change the subject. He nodded slowly, looking around.

"Remember the first day of sixth grade?"

"Um...kind of." Why was he bringing this up?

He grinned. "The first day of middle school you wore that white skirt. You know, the one all you girls went crazy for? You made such a big deal about it, showing it off, parading around all the boys."

I remembered. "Yeah, I was trying to get Max's attention. He was so dreamy back then, you know." I laughed, thinking about the social hierarchy of middle school compared to how it was now. Max used to be the top dog but now he was possibly the biggest loser. It was funny how things changed.

Best Friend nodded. "Oh, of course. But do you remember what happened next?"

"How could I forget? Some kid put red paint on my chair and ruined my skirt. Max didn't talk to me after that. I never did figure out who it was." That kid had started my middle school career off on an awkward note. No one ever forgot the "period girl."

He was looking down at the ground again, this time was a guilty expression on his face. "That was me."

"What? Why?" That didn't make any sense. We were best friends at that point, why would he embarrass me?

"I don't know." He was grinning for some reason, probably remembering what an epic prank it had been.

"Meaning." I stuck my tongue out at him, then threw some of the grass he'd pulled up into his hair. He was kind of obsessive with his hair, always trying to make it look messy but not too messy. He plucked the grass out but missed a blade and laughing, I reached over and pulled it out.

We were face to face. I always forgot how intense his eyes were until I was looking right at them. I stayed there for a moment and we just looked at each other. Then, with a sigh, I pulled away. My decision was made.

What happened after that is another story, one I know I'll never forget. After all, it's not every day your longest friendship dies.

#short story #early works

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onlyonewoman · 7 years

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Worst Da Ever

Another ficlet I may use later in my ace lowbones verse. In this one, Ned is dealing with the couples fifteen-year-old girl, Roisin, who wants to get on a date Ned has some unusual - and usual - objections to. *** ”Da…” ”Yes, Rose? ”Can I ask you something?” ”If it’s ’bout the tattoo t’is still a no and if ye do it anyways ye’re grounded until ye turn eighteen.” ”Jesus… No, it’s not the tattoo. Unless you’ve change…?” ”Fat chance, kiddo-no-kid. What is it?” ”Well…” Roisin leaned in the doorway and Ned put his calculations down. His daughter had the ”I really want this and you have to say yes or I’ll die” expression in her face. Which meant it was probably not very serious. ”There’s this guy, Tom Dawson...” ”The lad with the hockey trunk ye’re walking home with?” ”I… How did you know?” ”Ye’re passing me job on yer way home, Rose.” ”Oh…” Roisin bit her lip and Ned smiled. ”Ye’ve planned on asking him out, or what? Or he asked ye?” ”Look, it’s just this game on Saturday and I was thinking about going.” ”The hockey rink isn’t exactly a club, Rose. Of course ye can go.” ”Yeah, but…” ”But what?” ”It’s in… uhm, London.” ”London? Ye’re goin’ to a hockey game in London for a Saturday night?” Ned had to make an effort not to roll his eyes. Fifteen and in love meant one did a lot of silly things and it was very obvious why Roisin had chosen to ask him instead of Billy, thinking her da would be easier to convince. Not on this one. Ned folded his arms. ”Since when did ye start liking hockey, by the way? Thought ye were a football and dance girl.” ”Da…” ”No.” ”No?” ”No as in ye can’t go.” ”Why?” ”Cause ye’re fifteen, he’s sixteen and yer daddies will not let ye spend a Saturday night in London on yer own.” ”But it’s just hockey!” ”Even worse. Ye don’t even like hockey.” ”I do!” ”Oh, yeah? And what does that bloke like that ye do, huh? He’s asked to come with ye to a dance show?” ”He doesn’t like dancing.” ”Football?” ”No.” ”What about concerts?” ”He only listens to radio stuff.” Ned shook his head in disappointment. ”God have mercy… Books?” ”Doesn’t read.” ”Goat sacrifices?” ”Da, ye’re such a dork.” ”And ye’re not going to a hockey game in London with a lad who wont give any of yer hobbies a chance, Rose. At least not until ye’re older. Then ye may throw away yer money and time on stuff ye don’t like to be around a boy who’s boring the hell out of ye, but not now.” ”You’re so unfair!” Roisin turned around and went to her room. ”You don’t let me do anything! You suck!” Ned just rolled his eyes and scratched Gwin’s head. They both jumped a little as the door upstairs slammed and Ned sighed. ”Never seem to get used to that fucking door slamming, boy. Ye’re lucky, not having to be the worst da ever at least three times a week.” Roisin was difficult and although Ned knew being fifteen was a rough age, he freely admitted there were times when he had no idea how to handle her – and times when he could’ve been more strict. And if he’d allowed Roisin to go to that game, Billy would’ve been furious. Ned looked at his dog on the floor. ”I’m fiftytwo, Gwin, and I feel damn useless. Ye have any advice?” Gwin just yawned and Ned shook his head. ”Sleep on it, ye say? Don’t think that’ll help with this one.” He spent the rest of the afternoon with his calculations and foregone asking Roisin to help out with dinner, since having a grumpy teen walking around like a raincloud didn’t make a very good company. Around half past five, when Ned was putting the salmon stew aside to cool off while enjoying Celtic Frost’s To Mega Therion, Billy came home from work, as always greeting his husband with a kiss in the hallway. Billy smelled from autumn and rain, fabric softener and weak cologne. ”How was your day, hon?” ”Good. Yers?” ”Some whiny customers and a cranky boss, otherwise fine. Close your eyes.” ”What are ye up to?” ”Just close your eyes.” Ned sighed but did as asked and heard the sound of wrapping tissue and something that probably was a small box falling to the floor. ”Oh, crap…” ”Can I look now?” ”Not yet.” His husband’s hands were gently removing his earring, tucking his long hair away and Ned smiled as a new jewellery took its place. He opened his eyes and turned to the old mirror above the dresser. The earring was in silver, just a little thicker than his old, with a black stripe in the middle. ”You like it?” ”Very much.” Ned turned around and gave his husband a long, soft kiss before looking at him with a slightly teasing eye. ”What’s the occasion?” ”Nothing, really. Just that I saw this downtown and came to think of you and since I love you so much… well I couldn’t resist buying it.” Billy blushed a little and Ned smiled, the feeling of being a useless da temporarily forgotten. ”Ye’re so sweet I’ll get cavities. Thanks, Billy, I love it.” A loud thump could be heard from upstairs and Ned rolled his eyes. ”And there’s one who doesn’t love me very much right now.” ”What did you do? Ask her to take the trash out or something else equal to slave labour?” Ned chuckled. ”Worse. I told her she couldn’t go to a late hockey game in London on Saturday, so apparently I suck.” ”She actually thought you’d agree with that? And she hates hockey.” ”But not one of the bucks who’re playing.” Billy snorted. ”Even better reason for her not to go. Wasting a whole night watching a game she hates just to look at a guy who probably can’t put three interesting sentences together without help.” ”Glad we’re on the same side, hon. Damn, I forgot the fish!” Ned hurried back to the kitchen, saving the stew from being burned. Billy lowered the volume on the stereo at the table and Ned stirred in the food. ”Don’t gimme me that look, Billy.” ”What look?” ”The one I know ye’re giving me back now. Celtic Frost is pure fucking quality.” ”It’s a bunch of depressed blokes in need of cough drops and hugs.” ”This is a groundbreaking Swiss classic, thank ye very much.” ”You’d let Rose go if this crap was playing, right?” Ned turned around, ladle risen and pointed at his husband. ”If this was playing in London, then I’d become fucking religious and camp outside their hotel, ’cause they quit in 2008 and I’ll always regret I never went to see them. Could ye be an angel and tell our daughter dinner’s ready?” Two minutes later, as Ned and Billy already sat down and Gwin had gotten a small piece of salmon as a treat, a very grumpy Roisin came down, sighing as she sat on her place. Billy rose his eyebrows. ”Hello, daddy. Hello, Roisin. How was school? It was good, I got a really good result on that history test.” Roisin suddenly looked nervous and bit her lip. Ned served her rice. ”Yeah, I forgot to ask ’bout that, sweetheart. But I assume, just as yer daddy, that ye studied hard as ye promised.” ”Yeah…” ”And? How did it go?” ”Uhm…” Roisin picked at her salmon, not meeting her daddies eyes and Billy cleared his throat. ”You’re not going to that hockey game no matter how that test went, just to make it clear.” ”You’re always agreeing with da.” Billy exchanged a look with his husband and Ned shrugged. ”Not on everything. For example, he doesn’t like Celtic Frost’s masterpiece from -85.” ”True. But you’re still not going to London on your own, Rose, and that’s final.” ”I’m not gonna be on my own!” Ned cleared his throat. ”How did that history test go?” ”Alright.” ”B plus, then?” ”Uhm…C…” ”C?” ”Minus…” Billy and Ned looked at each other and Ned sighed. ”Roisin Nour Haley, exactly how stupid do ye think yer parents are?” Billy poured himself more water. ”I’d say you’re grounded for at least two weeks.” ”Two weeks?! Da?” Ned just shook his head. ”Don’t look to me for support, kiddo. One more complain and I’ll make it three. Eat yer dinner and then ye’re getting started with homeworks. If ye want to go anywhere except school before Christmas, I suggest ye make some improvement in history class. Okay?” Roisin sighed, defeated. When Ned used that voice it was final and she knew it. ”Okay, da.” ”Good. Now, eat. I wanna have a look at that test later. And ye could just as well gimme yer phone right away.” Their daughter reluctantly handed over the phone and Ned locked it inside the medicine cupboard and put the key in his pocket. Roisin picked at her food, only to get a look from her da saying this was a really bad time to keep being rude and she finished quickly, asking to leave the table and Ned happily let her. Once she’d disappeared to her room, Ned shut his eyes and leaned back. ”Why does it feel like ye just sentenced us to two weeks of hell?” ”Because I did, and you agreed.” ”I did. And how are we to control that when we’re working?” Billy shrugged. ”I guess she has to come to your work.” ”Are ye fucking kidding me?” ”It’s a library. Can’t think of any other place better suited for studies.” ”So I’m gonna babysit our fifteen-year-old at work, take her home and then spend the whole evening watching her as well? Sorry, hon, but this seems like a punishment for me.” ”Not if I take the evening shift.” Ned folded his arms. ”Go on.” His husband scraped his plate clean and refilled his water glass. ”I’ll be at home every evening too, so you can have some time on your own. You’ve not been out much lately, hon, and you should take the opportunity to go to the cinemas or something. See friends.” Ned’s one seeing eye suddenly became very soft and he smiled. ”Ye’re willing to stay at home, forcing Roisin to learn years, wars and rulers every evening for two weeks and hear her complain so I can get an out of jail card?” Billy shrugged, suddenly blushing a little and he rose from the table to put his plate in the dishwasher. ”If anyone deserves it, it’s you. And if our daughter is smart, she realises sleeping in history class isn’t worth the trouble in the future. Besides, I really think you deserve some time on your own.” He folded his big arms around his husband, nuzzling the still sore neck and the earlobe where the new earring was attached. Ned leaned into the touch, suddenly realising how tired he was. After the assault, his body had never really learned to reckognize it’s signals like before and the collected pain and weariness usually struck when he relaxed enough to truly feel his body. It happened with irregular intervals so it was tricky to foresee it, which was one of the reasons he still needed a service dog. Billy nibbled for the earring once again and Ned smiled. ”No occasion, really? Ye just happened to see it?” ”Only reason I need to bring you a gift, is that I love you and you’re making me so happy by simply being you. You’re the best husband ever.” Ned hummed, the day’s tension bleeding off a little as he rested his head against Billy’s frame and he chuckled as Gwin came to nudge his calf. ”Best husband and worst da ever… Thank God, Gwin doesn’t speak English.”

#lowbones #ned low #billy bones #black sails #fanfic #modern au #aces of spades and hearts #ficlet #teenage daughter #parenting #love #service dogs #fluff #everyday life #asexual

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psychotherapyconsultants · 7 years

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Why Every Therapist Should Read Dr. Robert Firestone's New Book "Overcoming the Destructive Inner Voice: True Stories of Therapy and Transformation"

Some people collect stamps, others baseball memorabilia. I prefer psychotherapy and treatment related books. It would be an understatement to say some select works have had a profound influence on my career. As I type this blog, I have a vintage 1925 hard back copy of John B. Watson's Behaviorism sitting to the side of my monitor. In its day the work commanded a hefty price tag of $3.00 and tied for the most expensive tome in W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. "Lectures-in-Print" psychology series. Today, a signed copy—mine isn't, darn—will fetch $1000.00 on eBay. The book shows its relative age by sporting two small and quite primitive paper covers glued to the hardback surface of the text. A few feet away is yet another one of my prized possessions: Andy Salter's classic Conditioned Reflex Therapy. Salter, often cited as the true father of behavior therapy and assertiveness training, could write as well as he could practice psychotherapy, and that's saying a lot. A cursory glance to my left reveals several volumes from Lewis R. Wolberg's time-honored The Technique of Psychotherapy set. These books not only serve as a premier source of psychotherapeutic information, but weighing in at approximately 6 lb. per book, can easily substitute as a set of dumbbells for your next set of bicep curls if you happen to be away from the gym. But the important thing is the impact that books of this ilk have on you as a helper. A case in point. When I purchased a copy of Jay Haley's Uncommon Psychiatric Techniques of Milton H. Erickson, M.D., I stayed up the entire night reading it. I thought I would never have a psychotherapeutic literary experience of this magnitude ever again. I mean history never repeats itself and they don't write psychotherapy books like they used to . . . or do they? Frankly, after reading the Haley work, for the first time in my career my thirst for psychotherapeutic tomes was beginning to wane. I went through an extended period where nothing caught my fancy. Then came the dawn. Enter Robert W. Firestone's 2016 book Overcoming the Destructive Inner Voice: True Stories of Therapy and Transformation. As I delved into the first chapter I unconsciously found myself giving my college class in theories a little extra time for a break so I could sneak back to my office and peruse a few more pages in Dr. Firestone's work. Keep in mind that Firestone is no Johnny-come-lately to the psychotherapeutic arena. He began his clinical psychology practice in 1957 (not a misprint). Just to put that in perspective it was the year auto manufacturers put fins on cars making them look more like rocket planes, the Frisbee was released, and Elvis purchased a mansion in Memphis and named it Graceland. So much for the theory that experts who write psychotherapy books don't have any real-world experience. In a sense I have both known and respected Dr. Firestone's work for an extended period of time. As a former program director of a suicide prevention center, and later a book author on the subject, I showed Dr. Firestone's award winning 1985 video The Inner Voice in Suicide to countless helpers and graduate students. It was simply a cut above everything else I could find on the topic. This book shares unique insights from the movie. So what makes this book different and dare I say it, special? A lot of things. First, the book is not sterile or antiseptic. Dr. Firestone is very familiar with the reader, often sharing his own innermost thoughts, feelings, reactions, and on occasion an off-color word. Most books of this genre portray the therapist as devoid of reactions, as if he or she is a blank slate or perhaps a computer performing the interventions. Not so in this case. The author comes across as a real person. Moreover, his anecdotes go well beyond the traditional psychotherapy office with tales including friends, relatives, and colleagues. It is difficult, if not impossible, to remain emotionless when Dr. Firestone recounts his friendship and first-hand experience (i.e., he was there) of the death of the famed psychiatrist R.D. Laing. He also shares his up-close-and-personal experience with noted psychiatrist John N. Rosen, who pioneered direct analysis which utilized psychoanalytic principles to take on the problem of schizophrenia. This creative approach contradicted the establishment's view that psychosis was a biochemical or strictly a medical problem and thus could not be treated by psychotherapy. Firestone gives us a truly unique perspective of the psychiatric facilities of yesteryear and helps us answer the question of whether Dr. Rosen was a genius or a madman. If you are searching for another cookie cutter book that says do x,y, and z to cure your clients, this is decidedly not the book for you. And don't let the title fool you. Just because the term "inner voice" is emphasized, this is definitely not just another book on CBT. Far from it! In my estimation, the inner voice is a lot more intricate than conventional cognitive therapies. It is as if Dr. Firestone tweaked cognitive therapy, infused a healthy dose of existentialism, and added a dab of psychoanalysis in all the right places. In a nutshell, your inner voice is composed of critical remarks from your mother or father, or significant others. These thoughts can eventually morph into your own negative thoughts. Thus, you might say to yourself: "You are so stupid. Only an idiot would do that. Who would want to date you. Nobody!" Not that as a therapist you would have any personal problems, but just in case you know a colleague who does, Firestone rounds out the book with an appendix aptly titled "How To Incorporate Voice Therapy Into Your Life." Translation: Therapists as well as their clients can harbor some painfully destructive inner voices or parental attitudes he terms the anti-self. I'm not going to spoil it for you by telling you everything, but I will go on record as saying that his work might just be the cure for the common psychotherapy book. It's definitely a keeper. Or to use a play on words from an advertisement released in the early years of Dr. Firestone's career: The name that's known is Firestone, where the psychotherapeutic rubber meets the road. from http://www.psychotherapy.net/blog/title/why-every-therapist-should-read-dr.-robert-firestone-s-new-book-overcoming-the-destructive-inner-voice-true-stories-of-therapy-and-transformation

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bayouolive · 7 years

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Olive’s Thoughts About the Bachelor- spoiler alert

As per ush, here are my stream of consciousness thoughts about the premiere of the gazillionth season of The Bachelor starring Nick threepeat Vial. This time expanded to include commentary on pre- and post- limo entrance segments. That’s right, doing big things in 2017. Tune in next time to see if watching this foolishness forces me to break my sober January resolve.

Pre-Limo Montage

Just gonna put it out there if Nick was interested in pursuing true love he'd probs date in real life like a real person rather than go on these shows

Three words to describe are, not three words to describe is

What sort of fashion boutique does one operate in Hoxie?

"Very serious business woman" ... also i'm sorry the Nanny is for who? For her? Wut.

Oh here come the dolphins

OH SNAP JADE'S MAID OF HONOR

Limo exits

Danielle- Nail biz, really pretty, rocking the cleve, he looks in to her.

Elizabeth- Marketing manager, Texas, I’m sorry that is a wedding dress.

Rachel- Dallas attorney, nice fantasy reference! But didn't seem to be much chemistry. Also he def checked out her ass.

Christen- Dress is way too yellow and fan was weird. Also he like can't make eye contact with her. B/c she is being a creeper.

Taylor- She's super cute, omg awkward awkward awkward why would you say that. Ugh that was disappointing.

Angela- "Model", way too much lipstick. But cute dress.

Lauren- Hussy, so weird. He seems so not in it.

Michelle- Lemonade comment, she's super cute.

Dominique- Fourth times a charm yawn.

Ida Marie- Her shoes are awful. Trust fall. Cuteish.

Olivia- Eskimo kiss and fur coat seemed a bit much and also what the hell is he sposed to do with the coat. KILLING THE NAME AGAIN.

Sarah- Okay running is stupid b/c then you get sweaty. But he seemed okay with it.

Jasmine- "Done this before a million times." Oh god this is so weird. Omg omg omg. No rings.

Hailey- No underwear girl. No. Never. No. By the way it sounded like she said underwear sex. Also another Canadian trying to channel the Caitlin.

Astrid- German girl. Wow so weird. So weird. No no no no.

Jade's maid of honor- Omg he is like frozen. HE DOESN’T KNOW WHO SHE IS WHAT.

Corinne- Nanny biz owner girl, pretty but SO YOUNG. Hug token yawn.

Vanessa- Special ed teacher. V. cute.

Danielle- Neo natal nurse, boring french toast convo.

Raven- Arkansas girl. I feel like her hair color should be a little less dark. Also stupid pig call.

Jaimi- Chef. Yeah NOLA. Also great hair. Shoes are intense though. Okay that balls comment was so weird and also the nose ring was dumb.

Brianna-Yawn shirt-off joke.

Susanna- Pretty but beard massage is so weird and not a thing.

Josephine- Omg bad face job bad bad bad bad. Bad extensions. Omg the hotdog makes me want to vom.

Brittany- So pretty. But omg that exam was so effing strange.

Jasmine- Flight attendant. Okay yes I'm sure he knows it’s a flower. [Side note: ahaha holy red dresses]

Whitney- Pilates instructor, boring. But super pretty dress.

Lacey- Camel. Wow hump jokes. [Side note: I love that they are just calling him a slut to his face and also that everyone was in on the camel.]

Alexis- Left shark costume. Does she think it's a dolphin costume? That is def a shark.

30? Somehow I missed a girl...looks like it was Kristina, Dental Hygienist....yawn?

Post-limo

Rapidly losing interest so commentary may be sparse

Yawn at everyone being annoyed someone cut in. Of course they did. Find a new bit for the cocktail party ABC, this is old.

We've got our first crier, Jasmine!

Hahaha the shark catching the treats was funny

Haha I like that she was basically just like duh you idiot I work at a hospital

Oh snap...who will get the first impression rose...

Who hates flowers?

AH RACHEL!!!! yay! [first impression rose]

Guys i hate that I really like him but I do

Rose Ceremony

Montreal girl, Danielle [nail girl], Kristen [weird yellow fan], Astrid [german girl, bleh], OKAY WE DON’T NEED TO HEAR CORRINE WORRY OUT LOUD WE GET IT, Corrine [eye roll], Elizabeth [wedding dress girl], Jasmine.

Okay I’m also super annoyed by the dental hygienist girl b/c I didn't even notice her in the limos.

Brandi, Arkansas girl, Cristina [STOP YOUR WINING YOU GOT A ROSE], Danielle [neo natal nurse], Sarah [runner girl], Josephine [yawn], Lacey, Taylor, Shark, Haley, Whitney, Dominique, Jane, Brittney.

NOTE: I may have missed a few because at this point I was experiencing my second food delivery fail of the night and flew into a blind rage.

This Season On. . .

"MY HEART IS GOLD BUT MY VAGINE IS PLATINUM."

Mic.drop. I don't think anything more ridiculously amazing could be said.

Thank you Bachelor gods for the gem that is Corinne.

Olivia Singelmann

J.D.

Georgetown University Law Center

#thebachelor

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hotchley · 3 years

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the slave of duty: aaron and dave

Surprise guys, I started the conversations series! I have no idea how many there are going to be, but there are several living rent-free in my head, so... we shall see!

Anyways. This is what happened between Aaron and Dave after the end scene of 5x10. It’s mainly dialogue (cos you know, conversations) and there is very little point to it, however, I had fun writing it!

I think that’s everything....

read on ao3!

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, minor character death

“You were right,” Aaron said. They were alone again. Aaron’s hands had been shaking when they were leaving the graveyard. Dave had spotted the tremble before Aaron could hide it.

He tried not to think about the blood that had stained his hands when they had entered the building. He’d never been afraid of Aaron, not even in that moment, but now more than ever he was afraid for him.

Who was supposed to take his hands and convince him that he was alive and human and good and kind now? Haley was dead. Aaron wouldn’t let anyone else touch him. Not now.

Dave had offered to drive him back to the apartment. Hotch hadn’t even put up a fight. He had just shrugged and gotten into the passenger seat, jaw slightly clenched as he stared out the window.

Jessica and Jack were out. Hotch mumbled something about going to the shops and offered to make coffee. Dave had wanted to say no. He didn’t want to be there, noticing how the carpet didn’t quite fit in one space, or how, if you knew where to look, you could just about make out the bullet hole.

But he knew Aaron. Knew how he would bury his pain the moment his son came through the door. Knew that he would act like he was fine when he returned. If he returned. Rossi knew what Aaron had said just moments ago, but there was still time for him to change his mind.

Aaron did not trust easily. An invitation into his apartment- his apartment and not his home because this was not his home, had never been his home- was an invitation into his heart. His mind.

Dave was not going to let that get away from him. He had lost the love and trust of so many people in his life, Aaron’s name was not going on that list. So he said sure.

Which was how he find himself clasping a mug of too-hot coffee he didn’t really want as Aaron took a sip of water. One of the few things that would not destroy his stomach.

“Was I? What about?”

“You said that I had a family. And that when we got Foyet, I would have to make a decision, to make sure I didn’t let the purest thing that had ever happened to me get away. But I got so caught up in everything that I never stopped to think, and now...”

Rossi set his mug down. He knew he had always been a little bit dramatic, and the way he went about things was not always the way Aaron wanted them to happen, but this felt different to those occasions.

“Now what?” he prompted.

Aaron looked up, tears forming in his eyes, thumb drawing circles over his knuckles. He look both so much younger and older than he really was. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that Dave hadn’t seen since he first joined, but a heavy sadness that hadn’t been there before.

“I lost my family months ago. But that was a temporary thing. Now she’s not coming back- which is all my fault- and I’m so afraid of hurting my son that I’m going back to the same job that killed her.”

Dave sighed. He should have known that his dramatics would go completely over Aaron’s head. In his opinion, he lost Haley the moment the divorce papers came to the office instead of his house. Because the Haley he knew would never be that cruel. But anger changed people, and she was gone now. He’d like to remember her goodness.

“Aaron,” he said.

The other man looked down. “Dave. Not now.”

“Yes now. Because you didn’t kill Haley. That was Foyet’s decision. You did what you could. And you’re not going to hurt your son. Not in the way you fear you will. But when I said that, all those months ago, I wasn’t talking about Haley. Or Jack.”

“Dave, you said my family,” Aaron said. Even despite the water he was sipping, he had a headache. Dave and his stupid flare for dramatics wasn’t helping either.

"And I meant us. The team. I meant Spencer Reid, who you have always treated as a son. I meant Penelope Garcia, who remembers what your favourite cookies are. I was talking about Jennifer Jareau who reminds you that monsters can be defeated and Derek Morgan who has and always will trust you with his life. I meant Emily Prentiss, who would die before betraying you. I meant me, who has seen you angry and hurting and not flinched. We are the people that loved you unconditionally through everything."

"I-"

"We're your family Aaron. Even if you want to keep your distance because you're scared of hurting us, we love you. We're not walking away or going anywhere. And I know that terrifies you, but it's the truth. When I told you to not tell the purest thing in your life get away, I meant don't lose us."

"But I've already done that," Hotch said. He did not shout. And that, perhaps more than anything that had happened over the past few weeks, hurt David Rossi. Because Aaron wasn't even trying to fight. He had already given up. Already decided that the team could not and would not love him anymore.

"Have you?"

"Dave, I humiliated Reid for lying about his injuries when I had done the exact same thing. I put myself above the case, days after I made Morgan unit chief, which completely undermined him. I insulted Emily and our friendship, lashed out at Penelope and JJ. I've been a terrible person. Derek had to pull me off a dead man's body. Classic overkill." He laughed as he said the final two words, but there was no humour.

"You did do all of those things. That much is true, yes."

Aaron glared. "That's not exactly convincing me of anything good."

"Because you're not letting me finish. Yes, you fucked up and you did the wrong thing but that doesn't change anything. We still love you. I know what your childhood was like. I know that your parents loving you carried the price of perfection and silence. I know that towards the end, Haley's life carried the price of changing your nature. But we aren't them. One bad thing isn't going to make us run away."

"But it should. I killed a man with my bare hands. Nothing more. We've worked enough cases to know what happens after that. I'm a terrible person."

Dave did not know how to convince Aaron that he was not going to become a case file on their desk. Because the truth was, he was not sure himself. There was every chance that now Aaron had done it once, the urge to do it again would overpower him. He knew what Aaron needed to hear, but he would not lie to him. Not in this moment.

"You are not a terrible person Aaron," he settled on. Because every time he looked at him, he saw the wide-eyed rookie he met in Seattle who just wanted to save the world. But sometimes saving the world was impossible, and right now, the world was Aaron.

"Dave. I'm too much of a coward to be around my son so I'm going back to the same job that killed his mother. The only real parent he ever had."

It was too much. It was just far, far too much. Dave slammed his mug of coffee down on the table, feeling slightly guilty when Aaron flinched at the sound, but not guilty enough to apologise for it. He needed to speak before Hotch fell down the hole of despair.

"Have you been listening to me? Your job did not kill Haley. That was Foyet. And you are not going to hurt your son. Not in the way you think you will."

"How can you be sure?" Aaron asked.

"Because you are a good man. Because you have fought, every day of your life, to break that cycle of abuse. And you have never stopped fighting for what is good and what is right. Because even when you had just lost the love of your life, you sent your son away out of fear that he would realise what the blood was."

Aaron turned away and Dave knew what had to be said. What had to be done. Because Derek Morgan was an excellent leader, and one day, he would take over that role. But he would do it because it was Aaron Hotchner's time to step away and be with his son. He would not do it because Aaron was scared.

"Haley asked you to teach your son what love was," he said, each word carefully calculated. He needed to say your. Because Aaron still did not view himself as Jack's father, even though everybody else did. Because what Aaron did not understand was that it was not about being perfect. It was about being enough.

Aaron looked at him, mouth parted. He hadn't realised. In all the hurt, panic, emptiness, anger and grief it had never once occurred to him that the team would have heard that last conversation and final confession. It was stupid, but he just hadn't. "She did."

"The best way for you to teach your son about love is to show him what it does to people. It makes them happy. It makes them smile. And sometimes it makes them cry. I know you, Aaron. I know you think that coming back means that you're failing Jack but you won't be. You will be teaching him that family is much more than blood. That when you find your passion you hold onto it. And that love, for better or for worse, can and will be unconditional."

And Aaron shattered.

He slid from the couch to the floor, covering his mouth as sobs wracked his body. It was like all the pain he had been keep inside him since the day George Foyet broke into the same apartment they were sat in and stabbed him finally overwhelmed him. His body shook and his breathing started to sound more choked, but Dave was frozen.

It was only when the coughing started that he managed to force himself to act. He dropped to his knees and sat beside Aaron. He just hoped that he would recognise who was touching him and remember that he was safe.

"Hotch. It's Dave. Breathe with me. Yes, that's it. Okay. You're okay. It's all going to be okay."

Before he was aware of what was happening, Aaron's arms were wrapped around him in a tight and desperate hug. It was almost painful. Dave let it happen. Aaron needed something that was real, and genuine and grounding. The last person he'd held had been Haley, her perfume stained with the scent of blood and her body cold. Dave smelt like expensive aftershave and he was warm and his heartbeat was a comforting drum.

"I just don't get how people as good and kind as the team could love me unconditionally. Haley did her best, but that wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. I'm never enough. And I am so fucking terrified that one day, the team are going to realise that, and I will just be alone and broken, like my father always said I would."

There was not time for Dave to explain that it wasn't that his love for Haley wasn't enough, it just wasn't what she needed and that was okay. Because to Aaron, unless he was perfect, he was failing. And he knew that Aaron would not believe him. The only people he would believe about that would have been Haley, but was now Jessica.

"You are enough. You were enough then and you are enough now. The team are never going to think you're not enough because you are. You have given them a family and hope and a purpose. You have done more for them than you will ever understand and they love you. I love you. And on the days where you can't lead, one of them will step in. You've already seen it happen."

"What if I come back and I can't do it? Then what?" Aaron was searching for a reason now. Any reason that would mean the team would not love him the way Dave believed they would.

"Then we will support you. And we will miss you, but we will let you go because sometimes that is what love is. But we won't hate you. Or resent you. We'll stll just be a phone call away because we are your family. And it's not always pretty. Sometimes it's ugly."

"Do you promise you won't hate me?"

Dave had always been slightly different to the team. He had always been the one Aaron went to. The one that could talk him down and convince him that he had done the right thing. He had watched Aaron grow and harden and break. He had taught him that the palm pressed to his cheek was an action of love and given him the title of lead profiler. He'd been a coward after the Boston Reaper as he left Aaron to pick up the pieces. But he'd returned when Jason Gideon left without saying goodbye to the men that had held the team together. One through their ability as a leader, the other through their ability as a friend.

When Dave thought of the months between Jason's departure and his return, he thought of the toll it must have taken on Derek. He was the one that had provided the emotional comfort Aaron had been too closed off to give, even though he was battling his own anger at being left.

"I promise Aaron, on everything that I hold sacred."

Aaron relaxed against him, leaning back against the couch. Dave took the glass from the table and tilted his chin, forcing Aaron to take small sips. When half the glass was emptied, he took the glass and placed it on the table once more.

"Thank you," he whispered, voice still a little hoarse.

"You're welcome," was Dave's response. It was easier than having to explain that Aaron did not need to be grateful.

"By the way, I expect your paperwork from the most recent case on my desk by Monday," Aaron added, a slight grin on his face.

"I'd expect nothing less," Dave said, ruffling Aaron's hair slightly.

They were going to be okay.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch #hurt aaron hotchner #sad aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner needs a hug #hotch whump #hotch angst #tw child abuse #david rossi #rossi #david rossi is a dad

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