tbh the marketing around skin care is incredibly insidious and devious. even the word itself – skin CARE – makes it sound like we’re all spending hundreds of bucks on this stuff for sheer health reasons when, let’s be honest, the vast amount of skin care regimes are solely about improving the skin’s appearance and hiding the fact that women age at the same rate men do.
companies tried and in many ways succeeded to pull this off with make-up. the whole “you’re Empowering Yourself by conforming to society’s standards of what a woman should look like while spending all your money on those products” routine. but pulling it off with skin care is so much easier because it doesn’t feel like a big deal. you’re not changing your appearance or covering things up, you’re just helping your skin out! and so on.
like, i mean. i am into skin care. i spend money on skin care products. i am not somehow going to pretend that i am above all this and don’t feel better when i pamper myself with a facemask and can marvel at how smooth my skin is afterwards. and i am certainly not going to laugh or point fingers at women who feel the same.
but that doesn’t mean the whole concept should be immune from criticism, especially considering the fact that the industry is just as gendered as make-up is. like, just the fact that 99% of this stuff is marketed towards women should ring alarm bells. it’s really not enough to treat it as make-up’s harmless little sister.
This is for @letsgetoutalive‘s Mental Awareness Challenge
Thank you to @whispersandwhiskerburn, as always, you come to my rescue.
“Illness”: Autism Spectrum
Warnings: hopefully nothing; fluff, a little angst maybe?
Word Count: 2795
Characters: OFC Bonnie, Bobby, Dean, Sam, Rufus
Summary: Bobby takes in a little girl after a hunt leaves her orphaned. After finding things different, he takes her to an appointment. She’s diagnosed, but that doesn’t lead to happy days. Like all parents, he struggles, but does the best he possibly can... (shit summary sorry)
“Why won't she join us?” Sammy asked Uncle Bobby, upset that his cousin wouldn't join in his game.
“She’s content by herself, Sam, just gotta leave her to it, kid.” Bobby explained, looking across the lot at his surrogate daughter. She was sitting in one of the stripped cars, she'd set up her own playhouse, rather - a safehouse, in.
“Come on, Sammy. We’ll go find your toy truck.” Dean said, taking his little brother's hand and leading him back into the house.
Bobby watched as Bonnie sat contentedly playing with her model plane and parts of the old car.
He'd picked her up from a hunt gone wrong. The police had wanted to take her to foster care, but she'd cried and cried. Something about her had Bobby up and swear to raise and protect her. But she’d also come with her own challenges.
Weeks went by without a word; Bobby put it down to her seeing her parents death. Dean had been that way after Mary died. But then months went past, and she seemed content enough with her new home, but still not a word.
“Watch out, sweetheart.” Bobby called as she ran along the gravel behind the boys, but too late. Her foot caught in a pothole, and she sprawled across the ground. Bobby rushed over to her, and the boys stopped in their tracks, looking back worried.
“You’re ok, Bunny.” Bobby helped her to her feet and began to pull her into a hug, the first show of physical affection. She looked terrified and ripped her arm from his hand, tears beginning to spill, so Bobby immediately dropped his hands, shocked that this little girl, the girl he now looked to as his daughter, was terrified of him.
“What happened?” Sam asked, the three of them staring at Bonnie. “Why is she crying, Uncle Bobby?”
“I’m sorry, Bun, I’m sorry,” Bobby whispered, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans, thinking it over, hoping for the best, suspecting the worst.
Dean had gained plenty of experience with looking after Sam, ever the big brother, he grabbed Sam’s hand and waved Bonnie over. She stared at them through her tears, the sobs stopping.
“Come on.” He encouraged, and with that, she wiped her eyes and followed them up the gravel path, as if nothing had happened.
Bobby took her to a children’s shrink, out of his depth and terrified that he would be traumatizing her more by not getting her help. His old man had been a terrible father, and being a parent was--well, it made hunting look easy.
“Mr. Singer, she’s showing some of the classic signs of Asperger's. Do you know what that is?” Bobby shook his head and the kind lady continued in a soft voice that wouldn’t upset Y/N.
“It’s a part of the Autism Spectrum. It's not unusual for children with this condition to be more physical than verbal, but not a word in months does raise some concern. Do you mind leaving us so I can ask her some questions, see if she responds to any of our tests?” Bobby was unsure, but she'd come to be his whole world, and there was precious little he wouldn't give to know what was going on in her head, to hear her talking to him.
“What kind of tests?” Bobby asked, looking over the little girl at the lego table. He was out of his depth, but his protective instincts were still strong.
“Cards with pictures, the norm for children of six years.” Bobby took a deep breath.
“Bunny?” She looked up at the older man, “I’ll be right outside, ok?” He assured, pointing to the door. The doctor held it open for Bobby, and he stepped through. He caught a glimpse of her confused face as she got up from the table and took a step in his direction, then the door was shut.
Bonnie wasn't stupid, she was well aware that there was something different, but she didn't want to be left with the Doctor. As she walked towards the door, the doctor stepped in front, crouching to her level.
“Bonnie, I need to ask you a question.” She tried to catch Bonnie’s attention. Bonnie’s hands began to twist between each other, her fingers winding this way and that.
“Bonnie, Bobby’s just on the other side of the door. I promise.” The doctor tried again but Bonnie looked down at her feet, shuffling them against the carpet, swaying slightly.
“Bonnie?” The doctor reached out, touching the little girl’s shoulder, attempting to gain her attention.
“Bobby!” Bonnie screamed, loud and clear enough through the door.
Her savior burst through the door; he looked astonished as his adopted daughter hid behind his legs, tears fresh in her eyes and making tracks on her cheeks already.
“What happened?” Bobby asked, angry and confused, watching the little girl who was holding the knee of his jeans.
“I touched her shoulder and startled her. I should’ve known better. I’m sorry, Mr. Singer.” The apology reached the doctor’s eyes. Bobby took a deep breath and nodded.
“We can make another appointment; I can give you brochures and other reading material, and in the meantime I can put you in touch with a group for parents who face similar problems?” The doctor offered, going back to her desk, already collecting up reading material.
Bobby accepted the pamphlets, and said he’d call about another appointment, unsure of what was best for Bonnie at this very moment.
“Bunny, Boys, breakfast!” Bobby called up the stairs, the boys had been left behind by John, again. Dean and Sam understood, now they were older, if Bonnie wanted to be with them, she would; if she didn't, she wouldn't.
Bonnie came down the stairs, close to tears as she struggled with one of the buttons on her overalls.
“Help, please.” She sniffed as she approached Bobby.
He would always want to hug her, to hold her tight and tell her everything was ok, to kiss her forehead and tuck her in. But after the first attempted hug resulted in terror and tears, he’d understood deep down, physical touch for her was different, it was more intimate, so he was hyper-aware of every second of contact. Being her father was certainly a learning curve, each day was a new lesson, each word a new memory, each smile a light for the darker times.
The first shrink appointment hadn’t gone to plan, sure, but, what is it they say; try, try again? The ongoing meetings had opened her up, and she'd become more talkative - for her anyway!
He bent to her level and carefully fixed the button into the loop, securing the suspender.
“There you go, Bun.” He smiled, encouraged when she actually met his eyes and returned the smile before sliding away to go sit in her regular seat. Bobby stood up, called for the boys again, and then turned to serve breakfast.
One day Bobby was fixing up a car, it wasn’t all hunting after all, when Bonnie came home from school. She dumped her bag and sat on a nearby tire, watching her adoptive father work. Bobby caught her craning her neck a few times to see what he was doing, and after the third time he gestured for her to join him.
“Wanna help?” He asked, beaming when she nodded and jumped up.
“What does this part do?” She asked, pointing at the timing chain.
“That holds this,” He pointed at the camshaft, “And this,” he pointed at the crankshaft, “in the same position to each other while the engine’s running. If this stops working, you ain’t going nowhere.” He watched as she nodded and processed it all, then she pointed at another part.
“And that?”
“That’s a spark plug, it creates a mini-explosion between the air and compressed fuel, that make this one work,” he pointed to the row of four cylinders.
“It looks like a … piston?” She squinted as she tried to remember her science class.
“Yeah, look at you! Do you know what it does?” Bobby asked, she was incredibly smart and this was possibly the longest two-way conversation they’d ever had. He watched and listened as she explained what she’d learnt about pistons, and he was brimming with pride and love for this girl.
It became the regular afternoon with them, she’d get home from school and help on the cars. Bobby was thrilled to finally have a way to connect with her.
“Bunny?” Bobby called up the stairs, turning to Rufus, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to touch other people’s stuff?” He growled, ripping the compass out of the older man’s hand. Rufus chuckled but looked up at the creak in the stairs.
“Hiya, Bonbon, keeping out of trouble?” Rufus asked as Bonnie came down the stairs.
“Yes.” Bonnie replied, her only greeting accompanied with a polite smile.
“This kid’s a keeper!” Rufus said with a laugh. Bonnie’s eyebrows drew in at his remark, she looked at Bobby, alarm evident in her eyes.
“Why wouldn’t you want to keep me?” She asked, concerned.
“Sweetheart, he’s just… it’s just a saying. It doesn’t mean anything.” Bobby smiled at her while swiping at Rufus with the back of his hand.
“Where are you going this time?” She asked, taking in his suit and tie, catching a glimpse of the fake badge as he raised his arm.
“Outta state, but I’ll be back before school on Monday.” He answered.
“What is it?”
“A pissed off spirit.” Rufus answered, he’d moved to Bobby’s desk and was shuffling through papers. Bobby rolled his eyes at his friend’s manners but looked backed to his daughter.
“So you don’t need the badge.” She stated, looking at her watch as she went to fix herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Bobby shared a look with Rufus, he’d be here forever if he tried to fight Bonnie’s logic; she didn’t like that he lied, actually she didn’t understand why he had to lie. Bobby put the badge down next to her on the bench and fought the urge to kiss her temple.
“I’ll be back first thing Monday. Promise.”
A few years back, after explaining to Bonnie why he posed as an FBI agent, why he had to lie, he’d kept a spare badge in the glovebox. It hurt, lying to his daughter, but he kept telling himself, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Bobby checked up on her that night, calling before she went to bed, make sure she’d eaten and hadn’t studied all day. He called her on Sunday morning after her shower, everything was to a schedule for Bonnie, easy for Bobby to follow along. She spent the day fixing engines, Sunday was her free day after all, she treated herself to pasta for dinner, even though it wasn’t thursday, but when Bobby hadn’t called and it was past her bedtime, she worried. She called his mobile, she called Rufus’s, she even called Sam to see what she should do.
Bonnie had polished all the pistons she found in the car yard and laid them in a line down the hall, she’d mapped the length and breadth of the house from one room to another, she was rewiring the TV when Bobby arrived home.
“Bunny? What are you doing up?” He asked surprised to find her awake at two-thirty on a school night. He had ash in his beard, blisters on the insides of his fingers and thumb, dirt under his fingernails and in the creases around his eyes.
“You said you’d be back first thing Monday. You promised.” She was angry and upset, but determined to finish putting the TV back together now that she was half way through. Bobby dumped his bag by the door and removed his cap, scratching at the top of his head, what did she - Oh.
“Sweetheart, I meant…” Bobby had realised his mistake, by promising first thing she’d taken him literally, as she so often did. “I’m sorry, darlin’. Forgive me?” He asked, crouching next to her. She looked up and stared at his cheek.
“Yeah. But don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” She muttered, returning to the TV once Bobby nodded and stood up.
She was nearing the end of high school, top of all her classes, while still helping Bobby on the cars. When the boys stayed for prolonged periods of time she’d let Dean help on the cars and engines, chatting away about the mechanics they’d both learned to love. But Sam was her best friend; they got along like a house on fire, and even though she was six years older, she helped him with homework, stayed up talking to him, even let him lean on her, touch her - much to Bobby’s amazement.
Her graduation rolled around, and the boys begged John to let them go to the ceremony to cheer her on. It had taken Bobby days to convince her to attend and many late night calls to Sam to even make her think about getting up on the stage.
The day came and she was nowhere to be found. Bobby was going mad, knowing they’d be late, but he couldn’t find her anywhere until he spotted her tucked into the hollowed out car that she’d used as a safe cubby ten years ago.
His heart broke at the sight of her. “We don’t have to go.” She had tear streaks down her face and had a line of polished pistons in front of her; she must have scoured every engine here.
“The boys can just come back here, and we can have pizza.” He assured, leaning against the rusted truck.
She shook her head, her jaw tightening in determination. “I promised Sam.” She sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve.
“But I don’t want anyone to clap.” She’d always hated loud noises, the exception being a roaring engine. Bobby smiled and patted her arm.
“Deal.” He agreed. He remained calm on the outside, knowing what a struggle this was for her, but on the inside he was ecstatic, getting to see his baby girl up on the stage, showing off her smarts.
Bonnie Singer, her name rang through the open grounds and she stood up, her heart thundering in her throat. She kept her eyes down, her feet moving, as she rushed the stage and grabbed her certificate and ran down the other side, not even stopping to shake hands. Bobby was glad they’d asked everyone to keep applause to the end and shuffled over to allow her to sit between him and Sam. When the final speech was made and everyone stood and cheered, throwing their hats into the air, she covered her ears, turning towards Sam for cover. He laughed and took the hat off her head, throwing it up into the air for her.
“Bonnie you looked great up there, I think I even got a photo!” Dean declared, giving her a large smile. She smiled back, not making eye contact, it was clear she was anxious.
“Well done, Bonbon.” Sam cheered, pulling her into a one armed hug, she tensed but didn’t push him off. Bobby had grown to envy the youngest Winchester’s ease with her.
“I’m so proud of you, Bun!” He smiled, a tear in his eye. He was desperate to do what Sam had, to even be able to squeeze her arm would be a miracle, but he respected her comfort zone, knowing that all of the emotions around her in the gymnasium had to be making this difficult.
Bonnie fidgeted and shifted from foot to foot. Finally, with a nudge from Sam, she stepped closer and wound her hands around the older man's waist, ducking her head under his chin, squeezing him tight before retreating.
“Thanks, Dad.” She whispered. Her eyes still didn’t meet his, but it was more than he’d ever dreamed. He couldn’t help the tear that rolled down his red cheeks, and at that point, he didn’t give a damn who saw them.
“I didn’t mean to make you sad.” She said, noticing the tears, backing away further.
“No, Bunny, I’m not sad.” Bobby said, sniffling and wiping at his eyes as Sam and Dean stepped back to give them a moment.
“I’m so happy, you have no idea.” Bobby, opened his arms wide and shrugged, “I’m just an old man proud of his little girl.” He choked on his words but managed a bright grin. Bonnie stepped in and gave him another hug. Calling him Dad may not have been her idea, but she was glad Sam had suggested it. Seeing Bobby happy was more than enough to force her unease aside.
As fate would have it, I adopted a girl and two boys, and they grew up great!
We shall keep our priests within the confines of their temples in the same way as we shall keep our professional army within the confines of their barracks. Army and priesthood shall receive honors high as their valuable functions deserve. But they must not interfere in the administration of the State which confers distinction upon them, else they will conjure up difficulties without and within.
— Theodor Herzl
Perhaps it didn't occur to him that having fundamentalist laymen in power can be just as bad.
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