#purely on the basis I don’t hear anyone else making sound effects… you’re telling me I’m supposed to just push elevator buttons in silence
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who’s up making sound effects ☝️☝️☝️
#talkingcore#realizing that the little pshooo noise I make when moving an object from one place to another can in fact be heard and perceived by others#purely on the basis I don’t hear anyone else making sound effects… you’re telling me I’m supposed to just push elevator buttons in silence??#like when you’re looking for things you don’t do like a lil choochoo chugging a long situation? okay… 👁️👁️💥💥💥💥#hot girl walk backfired I am so sleepy fuck this group project I can’t do anything til other people put info in…. I want to sleep#they pushed it off an extra 50 minutes pls let’s just get it done so I can go to sleep peacefully at like idk 8:30 (this is unrealistic)#I can sense the stress and disappointment. so sad so sad#maybe I’ll wait to post so I can have as much of my woes in one place (I am so sleepy)#this is hell I forgot we had a floor meeting at 830. the dude whose work I’m waiting on is not done. I’m feeling like the Arthur dad#tip: I am so fucking mad though the mad is really just Tired it’s due at 9 am tomorrow I do not want to be thinking about this past 10pm#it’s 8:49 maybe it’ll be good soon Please I need Slumber though also there’s Clunking going around who’s clunking#919 literally no progress this is super hell. DUDE WHERE SRE YOU GOING WE ARE ALL WAITING ON YOU AHHHHHHHHHHHH#man…………….. this is twisted. and sick :((((#THEY FINALLY FREED ME 9:37 GOD DAMN… AND THEYRE STILL NOT DONE IM JUST NOT TRAPPED ON ZOOM#this is my attack on London for Realsies we already had an extension it should’ve been due this morning. ass cheeks up for Real for real for
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04/09/14
I don't like my family. I mean, I don't know too many people who are overly fond of their families but between my mother's gambling problem and my father's fondness for sleeping with women who aren't my mother without her permission, family reunions are a nightmare. It's not even their proneness to addiction, it's the fact that I am the only family member who hasn't gone to some form of therapy or rehab to try and "fix" their "problems". I don't look on addiction as a problem; I look on it as a character flaw, one that doesn't need to be fixed. It simply needs to be controlled. That's what my parents never understood - still don't understand - about me or my sister. They were always trying to fix us like we were broken and it was torture.
But at least we always had each other. This was my first family dinner since my sister was arrested and I had to face the two of them alone. Really, I think it was just rude of her to get caught and I could easily make an argument to the effect that she did it on purpose specifically to avoid dad’s birthday dinner. But I know that's not true.
If I’m being honest, I could have gotten the family reunion over with a few years ago but I always had an excuse available: I have a work function, I have a custody hearing, I’m trying to figure out how to stuff a body into a pizza oven while my husband’s at work. They still laugh at that last one. One day I’ll tell them it wasn’t a joke. Maybe at Christmas.
Thank god for my two little terror’s at home, though. If it weren’t for them I’d be forced to visit my parents at least once a month. I’m so glad they saw reason and blamed their grandparents for what happened to their mother. Now I don’t even need to come up with an excuse, I just tell them that I can’t find a babysitter and wait for next year when they try to call. It’s a beautiful system.
Until this weekend.
I told my mother that the kids were here for the weekend when, in fact, they were both away (Jason at a friend’s house, Sandra touring universities with James). The peace and quiet was so welcome I didn’t think twice about lying to my mother.
And then she showed up at the door. Apparently she called James and he had foolishly told her the truth, thinking I had also told her the truth. I already scolded him so there’s no need to make snide remarks in the comments, dear readers.
So in burst my mother on Saturday morning insisting that my father would be here later in the day and we needed to clean the house for supper with the three of us. Great.
To her credit, my mother taught me some very valuable things: how to get stains out of carpet, and her desire to take risks in everyday situations. Mostly her cleaning skills, though, that woman could spark a blood bath in the kitchen and you’d never know it an hour later.
Huh.
Now I’m very careful about the cleanliness of my home. Too clean and the police become suspicious but too messy and I get these weird rashes all over my body. It’s not pretty. But my father has never been able to stand anything less than perfection when it came to the cleanliness of his home. When we were growing up we wouldn’t be allowed to eat a meal until the entire house passed inspection. I admit that in university I rebelled against him by living in an absolute pigsty but I slowly grew to appreciate the values of living in cleanliness. And having bleach on hand at all times.
Yes, for all my parent’s flaws, I can honestly say that they have shaped me into the woman I am today.
That still does not mean I want to see them on a regular basis and that certainly does not excuse them from acting like assholes at dinner. From the moment my mother stepped into my house she had to comment on everything, comparing it to her precious little condo that she and dad had bought now that they “didn’t have to entertain”. Of course that didn’t stop her from complaining about the fact that I never visit and that they were forced to move to a smaller house since their grandchildren were brainwashed into thinking they were the villains.
They say brainwashed, I say logically persuaded.
In any case, my mother spent more time criticizing my furniture choice, my choice of colour and even my choice of dish soap than she did cleaning which is odd even for her. Usually she’s much better at multitasking.
And then, like good little women, we had to make supper before father dear returned from chopping wood or selling women’s dresses or whatever he does now in his old age. It’s not that I minded cooking, it’s that it was expected of me. I hate when people just assume that I’ll do something. It irritates me to no end and if it were anyone else they would have found the body the next morning and I would be adding their information to my notebooks. But since they’re family I made an exception.
Mostly because it would have raised too many questions.
Like clockwork, dad showed up as we were putting the food on the table and immediately made a beeline for the basement. He always liked to start at the bottom and worked his way up when he made his inspections. Thank god I remembered to change out my load of laundry. He has a nasty habit of airing out people’s dirty laundry and I doubt blood stains on my nice white blouse would have made him particularly excited. One habit I was glad to break was waiting for everyone to be seated before we ate. Sometimes dad’s inspections could take hours and I was not about to let his invasion of my privacy stop me from enjoying a good home-cooked meal. Even if my mother was glaring at me as I ate in silence.
That’s the thing about my family. Even when we were growing up, I can probably count on one hand the times when we’d had long, serious conversations. We rarely spoke to each other. Everything we said was silent. Glaring or disapproving looks were sometimes indistinguishable from disappointed or disturbed looks but after a while they all meant the same to my sister and me: you’re not good enough. I remember that look always made my sister cry. Even after all these years – in my own home no less – I still get an uneasy feeling in my stomach when my mother glares at me like that. Like she’s trying to burn me from the inside out. Like she knows my dark secrets. Of course she doesn’t. If she did I would have been arrested by now. My mother would literally turn in her own daughter if it meant making herself look good.
Which brings me to dinner - or at least the moment when we all sat down together. I have never believed my mother to be a good woman – nor would she want me to – but there’s a certain level of loyalty even criminals and low lifes have. She brought it up so casually like it was every day conversation. My father, to his credit or cowardice, remained silent as my mother recounted her tale.
I am not known for my calm attitude or my ability to forgive so it is out of sheer preservation that my mother is still alive today. I want you to understand that, dear readers. I am being purely selfish.
My mother turned my sister in to the police. She wasn’t caught by chance. She was ratted out. Four years and she finally got up the courage to confess to a crime I didn’t even know she committed.
After I heard the news, I honestly don’t know what happened or how dinner ended but when I next found myself it was later that evening and James was holding me back from attacking the washing machine with a hammer. Thank god he found me; that was an expensive machine.
All jokes aside, I have never blacked out like that. I’ve had moments where rage has overtaken me with a victim and they’ve ended up more guts than flesh but never for this long and never without supervision. I had James call my father to make sure they’d made it home safe and sound. He sounded so calm as he talked to my parents but I could tell he was scared.
That’s what my mother does to people. She brings out the terror in them. It comes in many forms but it’s like her super villain power: drawing the nightmares from people. I would think it was a gift if it didn’t affect me so much.
Instead it’s a curse. A terrible plague.
In a lot of ways my parents are well matched in that manner. Though my father’s terror is more silent but deadly.
Four days later and I’m still trying to fathom how someone can do that to their daughter. You don’t just drop a bomb on them like that in the middle of dinner. It’s so rude.
I’m hoping I scared them enough that they won’t want to have another impromptu family dinner for at least another year.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
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Of Bittersweet Desserts, Roses, and Memories.
Characters: Ozpin, Ruby Rose, Ozma, Oscar Pine, and Summer Rose.
Pairing: Summer + Ozpin & Ozma [Platonic], Oscar x Ruby [Oscar has a crush.], Summer x Taiyang [Mentioned].
Genre: Fluff & Angst.
Summary: Every time Ruby gets to eat a cookie baked by Headmaster Ozpin, they always remind her of her mother’s cooking. Upon finding her Headmaster baking treats in the dormitory’s kitchen, she decides to talk to him about it. Takes place post Volume 2. Lightly references the DC Comics.
[Note: No beta, we die like Adam. ]
Ruby Rose remembers the first time she had Headmaster Ozpin’s cookies, it was the first time they met face to face after she tried to stop Roman Torchwick who was escaping from his attempted robbery at the shop she was in. Once she took one cookie from the plate he was offering, she couldn’t stop shoveling them in. Waves of nostalgia and warmth filled her being with those treats. The taste of them reminded her so much of her late mother’s own baking, and lately those cookies have been on her mind for the past week. Not only that, but she heard a rumor that her headmaster would on the third Friday of every month in their dorm’s kitchen, except no one manages to find him in there when they go check there to see if the rumors are true. So while the rumors were proven to be untrue by the multiple attempts, even Velvet Scarlatina, her upperclassman attempted to see if it was true, but failed to find him. Ruby found herself unable to sleep and wanted to grab something to drink, thus leading herself to the kitchen. After quickly walking through the dark hallway and using her scroll as a flashlight, Ruby noticed the kitchen door was closed, but the lights were on inside. She also could hear… light humming? Putting the scroll back in her pocket, and gently opened the door wondering who else was awake beside her. Her silver eyes widen to see, unable to almost believe what she was seeing.
Headmaster Ozpin, coatless, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and placing cookie dough on a baking sheet without a care in the world. The rumor was actually true?!
Ruby was at a loss of words, she didn’t know what to say or should she bother him this late at night. Or rather why the heck was he in the kitchen of the student dormitory this late at night?!
Ozpin looked up to see Ruby just staring at him in utter confusion, and the headmaster could understand why as the concept of seeing him baking this late at night was so strange.
“Miss Rose, it is rude to stare,” Ozpin finally spoke up, causing Ruby to snap out of it.
“O-Oh sorry Professor Ozpin!” She stammered, still getting used to the sight before her very eyes. “I… I just wanted to grab something to drink… I uh… wasn’t expecting to see my Headmaster here making… sweets,”
“Yes, I agree. It probably is a strange sight to see me baking in the student dormitory this late at night, but… it’s a tradition I have,” He chuckled, his amber eyes glinting with a hint of amusement.
“A tradition?” She asks as she walks towards the refrigerator to grab a gallon of milk inside.
“....I suppose I can tell you, since you are her daughter according to Qrow,” Ozpin grabbed the oven mitts on the counter to cover his hands. “You see, your mother and I… well to say in her terms. We were not only close friends, but ‘Baking Buddies’ as she liked to call us,”
Ruby nearly dropped her glass that she reached for in shock, her mom and her headmaster… BAKING BUDDIES?!
“So that’s why your cookies tasted so familiar to me, you baked them all the time with my mom!” Ruby spoke up, feeling slightly giddy. She hardly ever hears about what was her mom like before she settled down with her dad, Taiyang. No one would ever talk about Summer to her with the exception of her Uncle Qrow when he visited and her older sister Yang. And to hear something new about her mother, even as ridiculous sounding as being baking buddies with her headmaster. She began pouring the milk into the glass she grabbed previously. “But… why in the kitchen the student use?”
“Now that is a bit of a long story,” Ozpin replied, placing the baking sheet in the oven, once he completed that task. He closed the oven and removed the mitts, turning his attention to her now.
“D...do you think you can tell me? It’s just that hardly anyone talked about my mom before she married my dad.” Ruby began, while Ozpin raised an eyebrow at that, “He would never bring her up no matter how hard I asked, and Professor Oobleck and Professor Port refused to talk about her ether when they came by to visit, I just… I want to know more about her. So please?”
Not that many people talked to her about Summer Rose? Her own mother? Not even Taiyang told her stories about their days as Team STRQ? Ozpin knew the blonde was suffering from losing both Raven and Summer, but this….
‘It wouldn’t hurt to tell her how you started this tradition…’ A slightly deeper voice spoke up, ah yes. Little did Miss Rose know that an ancient spirit named Ozma was listening in on their conversation, and Ozpin can only hear him as Ozma’s spirit is bound to him now. But, he would never tell her that, not yet at least if time comes to pass and he began to trust her more… ‘Let the girl know about her mother, even if the memories are bittersweet Ozpin,’
‘I was going to anyways,’ Ozpin mentally replied back to Ozma, turning his attention back to Ruby still awaiting his answer. “Very well, but I’ll tell you a shorter version of it as it’s rather late at night and I wouldn’t want to keep you awake... “
Ruby’s eyes glimmered with excitement, as the rosebud couldn’t contain the excitement with that big smile on her face. Finally! Something new about her mom!
“Thank you so much, Professor Ozpin!” She beamed at him in pure happiness, earning a chuckle from her headmaster.
“Well let’s see ...It began about...twenty years ago…” The headmaster began.
…...
“Why in the world are you inviting me to bake with you this late at night, Summer?” A seventeen year old Ozpin inquired watching the nineteen year old Summer Rose gather the cooking supplies on the table.
“It’s to help take your mind off of things, Oz” was Summer’s response. Oh yes, that was another thing. They were on a casual first name basis with each other, considering they grew close over time with Ozpin helping her by giving her advice on how to handle being a team leader. And Summer would help him with his… headaches let’s call them that.
…...
“Headaches? Sorry for interrupting already, but what do you mean by headaches?” Ruby broke through the immersion.
“Well you see, I would … get stressed out easily from the early days of my time as Headmaster, my head would start to hurt, and well your mother was there to help me through them…” Ozpin answered her. In actuality those were side effects of the merge process between Ozma and his new host. Ozpin would get sudden amounts of Ozma’s memories and he would get overwhelmed by all the trauma the spirit endured. Thank the brothers that Summer was there to offer comfort and aide. And while he in return did in return offered her advice, he also taught her how to use her silver eyes.
“Ooooh okay…”
…....
“Listen, I know you and I have a thing when it comes to sweets,” Summer pointed out, Ozpin looks at the mug he was holding filled with hot cocoa when she commented on their affinity for sweets. “So, why don’t we try baking our own? I know the basics if you need any help. And who knows it could be relaxing!”
“I...I suppose we could try,” Ozpin gave Summer a faint smile, who returned the smile with her own. “I actually did enjoy helping my mother bake from time to time before I was offered this position,”
“That’s great then--”
“However, you are still a student here, Miss Rose” Ozpin cuts her off firmly, “While I truly enjoy the close bond we share, I can’t have you slacking on your studies,”
“Point taken, Professor Ozpin, sir,” Summer teased with her own silver eyes gleaming with amusement, before pondering for a moment. Her expression focused. “ Then how about this, Oz? If I can keep up with my studies then… we can keep this as a tradition? Buttt ...” Summer walked up to him, “You have to… um…”
“How about I take it easy more often, so that way… you can be more focused on other things? Like schoolwork?” Ozpin smiles softly at her.
“You’re one of my best friends you know that right? I can’t help myself but worry... “ Summer frowns, looking down. “Raven once told me I can be too soft and naive, but…”
“And I am incredibly grateful for your concern, your selflessness and kindness towards others is a powerful weapon in it’s own right,” he places a hand on her shoulder. “The world could use more kindhearted people like you Summer,”
“Thanks Ozpin,” She smiles at him, “... So do we… have a deal?” that got a chuckle out of him.
“Yes, Summer we have a deal, but we can’t be doing this all the time,” He replied, taking his hand off her shoulder and began sipping on his beverage.
“Then how about… once every month on the third Friday?”
“That can work, but it would have to be late at night since hardly anyone uses this kitchen at that time apparently…” Ozpin placed his now empty mug aside, and rolled up his sleeves.
Summer nodded, grabbing a bag of flour, her expression now determined.“Alright then! Let’s do this!”
…
“So what was your first attempt?” Ruby asks, as she watches him take the now baked cookies out of the oven. Her stomach now rumbles, Ozpin’s cookies smelled so delicious…
“It was a small cake, unfortunately your mother mistook sugar for salt and well... “ Ozpin replies as he places the hot baking sheet on the stove so it could cool off. He shudders, remembering the horrible salty taste that still haunts him. Although he could hear Ruby’s giggle behind him which gave him a small smile.
“Mom was a very kind person wasn’t she?” Ruby sighs happily, looking at her now empty glass that had milk moments ago.
“She was very much so,” Ozpin stares at the cookies, as memories of their baking sessions came back to his mind. He could recall their laughter and the fun they shared during those times. “But, I suppose a part of me still misses her and I continue this deal even with her no longer being here…”
‘She was a very dear friend to the both of us Ozpin,’ Ozma remarked sadly, as Ozpin reached for his mug to sip on his now warm cocoa. Once the cookies were cooled off, he handed a couple to Ruby.
“Oh, thank you!” She smiles before partaking in the delicious treats with him, the headmaster’s eyes widen slightly as he spots tears glistening and threatening to fall from Ruby’s eyes. “...R...Really thank you… I got to finally know more about what mom was like and...and I got to taste her cookies again because you two created this recipe together…” she sniffled, wiping away the tears.
“You’re very welcome, Miss Rose,” Ozpin replied with a gentle tone. “I could give you the recipe if you’d like,”
“Professor Ozpin… Um I was wondering… can we… can we do this again?” Ruby asks, her eyes focused, and taking a deep breath before exhaling it out to calm herself. “You know… baking stuff with you like you did with my mom and you could tell me more stories about her?”
“... I wouldn’t be against it, however, like with your mother. I expect you to focus on your studies and training. Should you get good marks and continue to do well in the academy, consider us baking sweets and exchanging stories about your mother on the third Friday of every month to happen.” Ozpin’s amber eyes met Ruby’s silver ones with a focused gaze, his tone stern but friendly.
“Yeah! I’ll do my absolute be...s..t..” Ruby’s usual hyper tone ended with a yawn. The headmaster chuckles.
“Miss Rose, perhaps you should head back to your dorm room where you can rest. I’ll finish cleaning up and be on my way soon enough,” He advised, placing the leftovers in a tupperware he’s brought with him.
‘You’re also going to talk to Taiyang about this aren’t you, you’re quite… angry,’ Ozma finished for him.
‘Of course I am, I… We may have loved Summer in platonic way compared to his romantic love for her, but for him to not tell her about her mother is ridiculous! To see Miss Rose… no Ruby break down like after one simple story about her mother is just…!’ Ozpin mentally replied rather sharply back at Ozma,
“Okay, see you later,:” Ruby held back another yawn after cleaning her own cup, and left the kitchen. She eventually made it back to her room where the rest of her team were sleeping peacefully, although Ruby was pretty sure both Blake and Zwei heard her come in because she saw one head drowsily rise up on the bottom bunk bed, before laying back down after seeing who it was. And Zwei was sleeping on her partner’s bed. She quietly climbed up to her own bed, determined to keep her part of the new bargain she created with her Headmaster. She lays her head down and fell asleep to the oddly comforting light snoring from her older sister Yang.
.
.
.
Nearly one year later….
“Ruby? It’s nearly midnight...what are you doing?”
Ruby nearly jumped in surprise at whoever spoke up while she was trying to remember a recipe Ozpin had taught her, she turned to see it was Oscar Pine, the newest addition to their group and the one who now hosts Ozpin’s spirit. Since their headmaster has met his fate at the Fall of Beacon.
“Oh, I was going to bake some cookies,” She finally replied.
“At midnight?” The farmer raised an eyebrow at that.
“Well you see, Professor Ozpin and I would bake around this late at night and he would tell me stories about my mother and her days at Beacon, We even called ourselves Baking Buddies” Ruby explained, “And while it’s not friday, I just wanted to try continuing the tradition on my own terms now,”
‘The baking buddies part is partially true, I didn’t call us that, but I let her have her fun with it,’ Ozpin’s spoke up explaining himself quickly when Oscar mentally asks the spirit what did she mean by that.
“Hey Oscar, would you like to be my taste tester?” Ruby asks,”I may have forgotten about some of these recipes during my journey to Mistral, and it would be nice for someone else to taste my sweets”
“I’m not exactly fond of sweets compared to Ozpin, but if it’s you I’ll do it…” Oscar replied, a light dash of red colored his cheeks and he was unable to meet her eyes. “And Ozpin can help you out too by recalling any steps or ingredients you’ve forgotten about,”
‘Smooth,’ came a light chuckle from the thousand year old spirit.
‘Z-zip it Ozpin,’ Came Oscar’s hasty mental response.
“Oh that’ll be great! Thank you Oscar, and you too Professor Ozpin!” Ruby grinned at the boy with two souls.
“Let’s get started!”
FIN.
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Catching Up to Noctis Month
So yeah, that moment when you forget that you have two places to post things and just completely abandon one for a few days... Sorry.
So I will post Chapters 5 - 7 on here today and then be a good noodle and actually do it when I am supposed to.
So yeah.
Fandom: Final Fantasy XV / Relationship: Prompto/Noctis /
Tags: Ignis, Noctis, Prompto, Meeting the Mom, Ignis Mommy, Dinner, Acceptance
Chapter Five: Ignis
Ignis was not incorrigible.
He let Noctis get away without eating veggies almost on a daily basis.
He would deal with Gladio’s dirty humor all day.
Give the King a little bit of false hope that his son wasn't a total and utter failure at friendships.
Let Cor do his own business without the constant surveillance of a royal advisor.
What he was, and proud to be, was cautious.
So when Noctis mentioned that he had found a new friend, Ignis did what anyone who served the prince would do.
He gave Noctis his very blunt opinion.
“I would suggest being on your guard Your Highness. He could very well be simply in it for the money and fame that comes with being friends with the Prince.”
Noctis had nodded but his face was glued to meatloaf in front of him, like he was deciding whether or not it had vegetables.
He was uncanny at detecting them, a skill that Ignis found infuriatingly useless.
But after a beat, he either decided that there was none or he wasn’t in the mood to fight because he took a bite, chewing as he glanced back up at Ignis and nodded again.
“I know Specs. But he seems different. I think even you might like him.”
Ignis highly doubted that. But he gave Noctis the benefit of the doubt, simply shaking his head as he turned to finish off the dishes.
“I don’t think we will know till I meet him. Why don’t you bring him over one day?”
Noctis had sighed, Ignis already imagining his eyes rolling.
“Specs, he is a friend, not my lover. I am not just gonna suddenly say, ‘Hey my mom of an advisor would like to interrogate you; why don’t you come over and eat some of the food he probably poisoned?’”
Ignis smirked, shaking his head as he rinsed.
“I don’t think it would be so weird coming from the Prince.”
“Yeah but I like to think that he isn’t just listening to me because of that.”
Ignis heard it, the tiny hint of anger coming from the statement. He turned and watch Noctis, the only indication of his emotions the slight harsh stap of his fork into the food.
Of course Noct knew more than anyone else.
Ignis nodded and finished washing the dishes in silence.
They hadn't really talked about the friend after that, Ignis assuming that Noctis had ditched the potential threat.
He was decidedly wrong, looking down at two pairs of shoes and listening to two voices shout in the living room when he came over one day.
Oh great.
Ignis walked in, ready to face the poison of a person who thought they could take advantage of his prince.
What he met made him freeze.
The boy playing with Noct was a tiny thing, his body more agile than anything else and his hair blonde enough to shine in the sun.
He was weaving around with his controller, his face flashing through so many emotions so quickly, Ignis wondered how the boy didn't get dizzy on his own.
He was, in every meaning of the phrase, the exact opposite of Noctis who barely showed his emotions to Ignis himself.
The prince did give him a glance, his face going safely blank as he battled a monster on the screen.
“Hey Specs. Prompto came over.”
The boy Prompto glanced at Noctis, confusion splattered on his face.
“Who…?”
He glanced at Ignis and instantly, the shock was there, his hands dropping the controller as he stood up, his face turning red from embarrassment.
“Oh crap, I didn't even notice you! I-i am sorry! I am Prompto, Noct's uh, friend? You uh… must be Ignis right!? Noct told me about you. Oh but not in a bad way! Like, in a 'He makes my lunch’ kind of way! I mean, like he told me you make his lunch and sometimes other meals and cleans up and stuff an-”
Noctis sighed loudly, throwing his controller down as the screen fades to a GAME OVER. He gave Prompto a look before glancing at Ignis.
“He is just gonna ramble till you stop him Specs.”
A squawk and Prompto threw a pillow at Noctis, hitting the prince square in the face.
“Don't tell him that Noct! He'll think I am a weirdo!”
“Well you kinda are so…”
Prompto instantly jumped on Noctis, effectively trying to smother the prince of the entire kingdom for calling him weird.
Ignis just stared for a moment, trying to figure out how these two boys even found one another.
Then Noctis’ stomach growled and he instantly locked Prompto into a headlock as he looked at Ignis.
“So… you're here to make dinner right?”
Ignis sighed, glad he was back on familiar ground.
“Yes, I had assumed you hadn't eaten yet. Is Prompto going to stay as well?”
The question instantly made the boy still. Noctis let him go and gave him a look, the question in his eyes as well. Prompto fidgeted, giving Ignis a small look.
“Ah no. I should head back… uh, don't wanna overstay my visit and all that.”
Noctis frowned and Ignis knew that look.
“Aren’t you staying for dinner? Don’t worry: Specs like cooking. And getting people to praise his creations.”
Prompto looked at Noctis, their eyes having a silent conversation. Ignis watched for a moment, looking as both boy seemed to fight. Noctis gave the boy a look, like they had actually talked about it. Prompto seemed to silently scream in horror, like he hadn’t actually thought to stay long enough to be in this predicament.
Ignis remembered what he told Noctis; wondered if Noctis had done exactly that.
But before he could say anything, the fight was over, Prompto giving the prince a dirty look and Noct looking away, victorious.
He turned towards Ignis, his hands wringing as he looked at the floor.
“Uh… if it is okay with you… Noct has been telling me about how you cook super good food…”
His voice was barely above a whisper, like he was genuinely afraid of asking. His whole body seemed to shrink, like a scared puppy. He kept glancing at him, at Noct and then down and back again.
Like he didn’t think he was allowed to stay over for dinner.
Ignis felt something soft and decidedly warm fill his heart as he watched Prompto.
He coughed, gaining the attention of both boys.
“I was going to try a new recipe today anyways. It wouldn't be bad to have a second mouth for an opinion. Prompto, do you have any trouble with green curry?”
He looked and saw the watery eyes, the disbelief too obvious on the poor boy's face. Prompto scrubbed his face, giving Ignis a smile that could blind if not subdued.
“Ah, no. I don't have a problem with that.”
Ignis nodded, turning towards the kitchen, hearing a slap on the back, not sure if it was from Noctis and Prompto but not bothered. The sounds of the game started up again and as he cooked, Ignis was surprised to hear something he hadn’t heard in awhile.
Noctis’ laughter.
Prompto was the hardest child to feed.
Not that he was picky like Noct, or doubting in actual edibility like Gladio, or even the silent consideration for new foods like the King.
He was just so… much.
“Prompto… just eat it already.”
Prompto waved his hand in front of Noct’s face, his camera angled so awkwardly that Ignis almost thought he was going to drop it.
“Just give me a second, I need to get a shot of this. It looks amazing!”
Noct watched his friend take a few pictures as he ate his own food, his face smiling as he chewed.
Ignis was undoubtedly impressed.
After another round of photos and one Noct grabbing a fork of Prompto’s food to which the boy was decidedly offended for, Prompto actually took his first bite.
It was almost too much for Ignis.
The boy’s face was shock at first and then delight and then pure love, all within the space of a few seconds as he chewed and swallowed.
He looked at Ignis, giving him starry eyes and a now-blinding smile.
“Ignis, dude, you are like, the best. This is… just…”
He took another bite then, his face telling Ignis all he needed to know.
After dinner was more games and even more of Prompto’s emotions.
But soon, both boys were stretching, Noctis yawning and Prompto actually looking at the time.
“Oh crap, it’s late. Dude, we have school tomorrow.”
Ignis had glanced up from his reports, looking at Prompto shook Noctis, who had managed to fall asleep almost instantly.
“Noct, dude. You have a bed. It’s like not even ten feet away.”
Noctis mumbled something incoherent but Prompto snorted, shaking him harder.
“You say that but I totally know you’re beat my butt tomorrow when you have a sore neck from sleeping on the couch. Get up.”
After a few more minutes, Prompto just sighed and picked up Noctis up. Then without ceremony, he instantly let him fall, Ignis watching with horror as Noctis yelped. But Prompto just smiled, a grin too wide to be innocent crooked on his face.
“Well, now that you are more awake, your bed awaits, your Highness.”
There was a beat of silence, then Noctis instantly pulled Prompto down, the boy shrieking as the prince began to tickle him. They fought for a minute, both filling the room with too-loud laughter until Prompto managed to get away, his face pink and his freckles standing out.
Ignis sighed, standing up.
“So are you going home then Prompto?”
Prompto nodded, giving Ignis a smile as he grabbed his backpack and slung it over a shoulder.
“Yeah. Thanks for uh… making dinner and letting me stay for it. It was great.”
He was still slightly embarrassed but Noctis stood up too,wincing slightly as he grabbed his side. He sighed and stretched.
“You could just spend the night.”
Ignis looked at Noctis, ready to interfere but Prompto beat him to it.
“Maybe another time.”
Noctis sighed but didn’t argue, instead looking to Ignis.
“Fine but at least let Specs drive you home.”
Prompto looked ready to argue that as well but Ignis beat him to it, grabbing his things.
“Yes. It is a bit late for you to be wandering around anyways. I will be glad to do it.”
-
Prompto bit his lip, looking out and trying his hardest not to touch anything more than necessary.
Ignis’ car was amazing, something Prompto would never even dream about. When they had gotten in, Prompto was surprised he wasn’t arrested for touching the beautiful thing, much less riding in it.
But Ignis had been nice enough to offer and Noct looked put off enough that he hadn’t kept his promise to stay over so Prompto had agreed and now they were on the way to his house, the map on Ignis’ phone guiding them to his address.
The silence was weird, at least for Prompto, so he cleared his throat, giving Ignis a smile.
“Uh, thanks Ignis. For uh, driving me home and all that. And for dinner too. It was great.”
Ignis glance at him and gave a small smile.
“Nothing too hard Prompto, I do it all the time. I am just glad I got ot meet the friend Noct has been talking about this whole time.”
Friend…
Prompto felt the warmth bubble inside him at the thought that Noct had mentioned him as a friend. Mentioned him at all.
He gave a small laugh, “Yeah, and I am glad I got to see the reason for Noct’s continual survival. I wonder how you keep up with him.”
Ignis laughed at that too, giving Prompto a smirk as he drove.
“Well yes, it is a job in and of itself.”
Prompto nodded as silence settled, this time not as awkward.
He remember what Noct had told him, how his advisor had invited Prompto over for dinner to try out a recipe. How he was pretty strict but also pretty bad at denying Noct so it should be fine.
How the only eventful thing that might happen was Prompto getting interrogated and/or poisoned.
He knew Noct had been joking but that didn’t stop him from avoiding staying over too long, just in case.
But now that he had, he was glad.
Ignis wasn’t harsh, wasn't all horror-looks and disappointed faces.
But maybe he is just being polite… Noct did say he was easy on him.
Maybe he just didn’t want to say anything with me there…
Prompto swallowed hard, his hands instantly rubbing together as he worked his lower lip.
Maybe he will tell Noct to stop hanging out.
Maybe I messed up and he just didn’t want me there when he mentioned it.
Prompto bit his lip harder.
“Hey… Ignis?”
Ignis didn’t look at him, something he was grateful for.
“Yes?”
“Well uh… Do you think… Is it really alright… Uh… Is it okay… for me… to be here?”
Ignis didn’t even react, his driving unperturbed but Prompto saw the slight twitch in his eye, the way his face slowly lowered into a frown.
He felt his heart sink and he instantly looked down, wringing out his hands.
The rest of the drive was quiet, Ignis not looking at Prompto as he silently debated whether he should try to talk again or not.
But soon enough, they were in front of his house, the map blinking the destination. Prompto swallowed, opening the door and trying hard not look at Ignis.
“Uh… thanks again for the ride Ignis… sorry. About everything.”
He got out, knowing he had blown it when Ignis leaned towards him a little.
“Prompto.”
Prompto swallowed, trying to give Ignis a smile.
“Yeah Ignis?”
“I have to say that the choice should lie with the two involved. No one else should have a say. But, if I may, I do believe it has been awhile since Noctis has laughed.”
He left Prompto with that thought, driving off as he waved goodnight.
When he saw Prompto back playing games with Noctis, both laughing and horsing around, Ignis simply smiled.
It seems you have waited long enough.
Noctis.
#final fantasy 15#final fantasy xv#ffxv#noctis lucis caelum#noctis month#ignis scientia#prompto argentum#meeting mom#yes ignis is mom#canon complaint#cause canon sucks
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Can we talk more about nurturing Todd and touch-starved Dirk? It seems there is much to be said.
You are asking a lot. Or rather two separate things that I suspect will dovetail neatly together. Unfortunately that means this answer is going to be long. Fortunately I can wax lyrical on both.
Let’s start with Todd.
We know a few things about Todd. We know Todd was kind of a self-absorbed asshole for a significant portion of his life. We know that he has a tendency to lie, cheat and steal. We know that Todd spent a significant portion of his life putting himself and his own interests ahead of everyone else’s. We know that all of this changed the second Amanda got sick. We know that he carries a tremendous amount of guilt for the things he’s done. We know he is mired in self-loathing.
We also know that he is the first person to help when no one else ever has. We know that he prioritizes Amanda above even his own safety.
Now I suspect some people would assume this is Todd’s version of atonement. I don’t think that’s the case.
Now, don’t get me wrong. People can change. People change all the time. Life and experience shapes and molds us, and we in turn adapt accordingly. But a person’s core personality is still their core personality. You don’t start an ESFJ only to become an ISTJ*.
So I suspect Todd’s caregiver tendencies have always been there. This isn’t counterintuitive. People who are drawn to care for others are more than capable of hurting others, just as a nurturing personality type does not always preclude selfishness.
In fact, caring for others can be a decidedly selfish act. It gives us purpose. It makes us feel good about ourselves. It is a means through which we can showcase love and in turn feel worthy of being loved. Carry this too far and you’re looking at a saviour complex. But keep this reigned in and suddenly there are well-defined parameters to justify our existence.
Either way, it stems from low self-esteem.
I suspect Todd was like this as a child. I suspect he spent a lot of his youth helping. I suspect this is probably something he carried with him into his band. I suspect the band would have fallen apart long before they did had Todd not been around. I suspect a lot of his actions (the lying, the stealing) arose from frustration and resentment. These are both common traits of caregivers. It’s hard not to grow resentful when we expend so much of our energy caring for others but get nothing in return.
And that’s the crux of it, because caretaking is not by definition an altruistic act. People who caretake don’t do so purely from a place of good. They do so to feel useful. They do so to feel needed; wanted. And without that feedback caretaking quickly takes on a much darker tone.
Take Todd and Amanda.
Todd has assigned himself as Amanda’s caretaker. He routinely travels an hour out of his way to visit her. He does her dishes. He likely does her shopping. He pays for her medication. And yet nowhere in that does he allow her autonomy.
Remember what he said to her? You can’t go with them. Not you shouldn’t. Not are you sure it’s safe. You can’t. This is after he dragged her away from her life because he decided she would be safer with him. He has assigned himself as her protector and feels entitled to dictate the terms of her existence. Amanda wasn’t wrong when she said he didn’t care about her. Caring about someone is selfless. Taking care of someone is not.
Dirk’s arrival throws Todd’s life into complete and utter chaos. It’s unsurprising that his first instinct is to reject Dirk outright, to want him gone simply because the disruption is too much to bear. But, of course, Dirk refuses to leave, which leaves Todd on somewhat unfamiliar ground. He’s never had a friend before. Friendship requires selflessness. Todd, I suspect, has only ever had people he’s taken care of (his sister, his bandmates, etc.).
It’s a role he falls instinctively into. Todd needs to feel needed. He needs to make himself feel useful. Look at the first time he met Farah. His first act was to get her a glass of water. It wasn’t something she needed. It was something Todd needed so that he could feel like he was doing something useful.
His relationship with Dirk unfolds in much the same way. He makes himself useful. He bandages Dirk’s minor cuts and scrapes (none of which required bandaging). He is, in fact, the perfect assistant because Dirk requires constant assistance and by assisting Todd can continue to feel needed and useful. At some point it’ll backfire, because codependency is not the cornerstone of a healthy relationship, but for the time being I suspect it is the foundation upon which their friendship is being built.
That all sounds rather hopeless, but character growth can’t exist if a character doesn’t start from a place of imperfection. Todd’s season 1 character arc ending with You Get What You Deserve playing is both fitting and telling. In order for Todd to grow as a character he needs to experience loss. He needs, universally, to atone for his past mistakes. Only then can he begin his journey, and ultimately his journey should end with him becoming a better person. He needs, over the course of however many seasons this show runs, to learn the difference between caring for someone and taking care of someone.
So what does all of this have to do with Dirk being touch-starved?
Well, I’d argue touch-starved isn’t the word we’re looking for. He’s care-starved. And as I mentioned above, this isn’t a good thing. It’s a dangerous setup for a codependent relationship that runs the risk of destroying them both. It also has the potential of fuelling their personal growth storylines so that they eventually end in a place of equality. Only time and Max Landis will tell.
So now let’s talk about care-starved Dirk.
To do that, we need to talk about Dirk’s childhood. More specifically, we need to talk about Dirk’s time in Blackwing.
Because Dirk was taken into Blackwing when he was what, 9? 10? Possibly even earlier and who knows what his childhood was like before then. Now let’s say, for argument’s sake, that Dirk is 36 (Samuel Barnett’s age). He’s been out of Blackwing 16 years now, meaning that he was in their custody for at least the better part of a decade. More specifically, he was in Blackwing custody for the entirety of his adolescent years.
Now we know from Bart that she knew about the others. We also knew she never met them. So it’s reasonable to assume neither has Dirk.
We know for a fact that Dirk has interacted with Col. Riggins. We can assume from his reaction to Todd’s “experiment” request that he has likely interacted with contingent of doctors and scientists. Given the visceral reaction he had to Todd’s request (and to seeing Riggins again) it is also safe to assume that most of his interactions with these scientists and doctors were unpleasant.
In short, Dirk was a lab rat. If you want to get more specific I think it’s fairly safe to say that the vast majority, if not all of Dirk’s formative adolescent (and possibly pre-adolescent) years were spent in CIA custody where the only people he interacted with were the ones using him as a research subject.
Now as someone who has a sister who interacts with research animals on a regular basis, I can assure you that research animals have their basic needs met. They are fed. They are watered. They are looked after when they are sick. They are permitted sleep.
But that’s about it.
They are not socialized (unless an experiment calls for it). They are not educated (unless an experiment calls for it). They are not touched beyond the necessary handling required for a given experiment.
We know that adolescence is a time of significant neurological development. We know that studies have been done examining the long-term psychological consequences of social isolation during adolescence. We can extrapolate from studies done on human research subjects, solitary confinement in prison populations, long-term hospitalization during childhood and adolescence, and the long-term side effects of childhood abuse and neglect. We can look at all of this and reasonably hypothesize that Dirk Gently did not come out of his time in Blackwing unscathed. At the very least he is a deeply traumatized man. It is equally likely he experienced developmental delays and/or impairments as a direct consequence of his captivity.
We also know, based on his comments to Todd, that Dirk doesn’t have friends. That Todd is the closest thing he has ever had. It is reasonable, then, to assume that the vast majority of Dirk’s post-Blackwing life has remained relatively solitary. He has undoubtedly interacted with suspects, victims and possibly the occasional assistant, but nothing that lasted beyond a case and certainly nothing that would provide any sort of emotional connection. Whether this was the will of the universe or a direct consequence of his trauma/impairments remains to be seen. Either way, it is highly unlikely anyone has ever taken care of Dirk, whether it was something as simple as bandaging a cut or providing a sounding board for his theories. And if season 1 taught us anything, it’s that Dirk Gently rather likes having someone take care of him.
He certainly goes out his way to praise Todd for it. You’re quite a good friend. You saved my life. I couldn’t have done it without you. Hell, his desperation for a friend is also indicative of this. And while tender and sweet and something fandom tends to latch onto, it’s not a good thing. What we end up with is a man who needs to be needed taking care of man who likes being taken care of. As I mentioned above, this is not the basis for a healthy relationship. It’s the basis for a codependent relationship. One in which Todd’s caretaker tendencies are rewarded by Dirk’s need for attention/love.
Now I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but don’t despair, because as I mentioned character growth (on both their parts) is what’ll lead this relationship into something healthy. It’s already started. The basis for their relationship may be flawed, but that doesn’t mean Todd won’t learn to let others take care of themselves (he’s already started by letting Amanda go) or that Dirk won’t learn to stop relying so thoroughly on others (their fight sets the foundation for that).
So eventually we’ll end up with two characters on an equal footing, each bringing their own strengths and weakness that perfectly compliment the other. In the meantime, though, we get Todd bandaging Dirk’s cuts and Dirk preening under the attention, relishing the fact that another human being actually cares, that someone wants to take care of him and keep him safe and run soothing fingers over his cuts and he has never, not in living memory, known that. And because Dirk is Dirk, he will be sure to tell Todd this with ample praise, which will reaffirm the connection between Todd’s sense of self-worth and his ability to take care of others.
TL:DR: The whole thing is going to snowball until it eventually explodes, but hopefully what comes out the other side are two people who complement each other perfectly and are better for having known each other. But as I said, only time and Max Landis will tell.
Basically, it all comes down to this: Ain’t human psychology grand.
Some Notes:
*I use the Meyer’s Briggs personality types only as an example here. I do not mean to imply this is Todd’s personality type, and in fact would discourage anyone from using the MBTI as it is a highly flawed test with significant psychometric deficiencies.
Articles worth reading on the psychological effects of: social isolation, long-term hospitalization, solitary confinement, human research studies.
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4145882/https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4588096/http://www.beyonddifferences.org/media/uploads/teacher-docs/consequences_of_social_isolation_2015-2016.pdfhttp://steinhardt.nyu.edu/appsych/opus/issues/2015/spring/Corcoranhttp://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/00221325.1959.10534230?journalCode=vgnt20http://easap.asia/journal_file/9301_V3N1_p9.pdfhttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_subject_research
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