#is this a result of the curse? we'll never know. except we probably will because the curse is very very obviois

[annabelle--cane]

I guess the thing that makes me not so fond of Jon's addiction allegory is that it's only coherent to a certain extent? Like I think people sometimes forget that he's actively violating these people

anon, through no fault of your own you have accidentally hit upon my sleeper agent trigger phrase. I have layers of answers to this.

so first off, yeah, it's not a 1:1 direct metaphor, it's a soupy dream logic fantasy plot device with flavors of a lot of different things. there's quite a lot of addiction in there, there's some abuse of power, there's some cyclical nature of trauma, there's a dash of disability, there's a few notes of gendered violence, there's a good bit of just. violence violence and being kind of a motherfucker because goddammit it feels good to be an active agent about something in your life, even if it's just choosing to be a worse version of yourself than you strictly need to be. a lot of tma's worldbuilding is very allegorical, but apart from aspects of individual statements nothing really matches up quite 1:1 with a real world counterpart, and if more things did then it probably wouldn't be a fantasy show anymore.

secondly. okay to contextualize this answer a little bit I have a kind of hypothetical video essay project about vampirism and addiction that I like to spend a few hours thinking about every so often but am almost certainly never going to make because the full research burden required is a lot higher than I actually have the time to properly do. but because of that I've spent a lot of time sorting through why framing vampires as addicts really works for me in a way that it doesn't seem to for everyone, and I think a lot of my thoughts on that also apply to jon. there's going to be a bit of a detour here before we get back to talking about tma, but we'll get there, I prommy.

I've seen a lot of people take issue with various paranormal addiction allegories because, a lot of the time, the act that is meant to metaphorically represent the act of use itself is something that is directly and inherently harmful to others, e.g. drinking human blood, handing over power to your hedonistic Evil alter ego, holding the cursed amulet and going crazy going stupid, slurping trauma out of the head of some guy you ran into on a boat to norway, etc., and yeah, I do get that. substance use is not inherently harmful like that to anyone except sometimes the user themself, and addicts are not inherently fucked up and destructive people; those are dangerous stereotypes that often lead to the demonizing of a whole group of sick people.

here's the thing for me, though: those are definitely truths I want explored and represented when it comes to portrayals of non-allegorical actual addicts, but fantasy fiction isn't for showing the world as it is, it's for showing a subjective fun house mirror version of reality where certain aspects are minimized and magnified depending on how it feels to live through it. and yes, absolutely in real life drug use is not an inherently evil act and it does not make you an inherently evil person, but... doesn't it kind of feel like that? sort of? absolutely no one is living their best life nor on their best behavior while experiencing any kind of major mental illness episode, and when it comes to addiction you've got a very clear tangible symbol of when The Episode is happening that it feels like you have much more control over than when it comes to other illnesses. it's also a thing where people are a lot more likely to be openly angry and distrustful of you if they find out it's happening. so you mix together the ideas of "I know I get worse as a result of doing this one specific thing" + "I act less like myself when I'm using, it rearranges my priorities and I care less about hurting people because that's what happens when you're experiencing The Horrors" + "society at large/people directly around me are pretty quick to say that doing this is evil," and you get the subjective emotional result of "I hurt people by using and it makes me monstrous." I tend to respond to those kinds of paranormal allegories like they're just cutting out the middle man of those subjective fears. "using makes me monstrous" -> "using is monstrous."

anyway. jon archivist.

don't get me wrong, I totally understand if this aspect of metaphor doesn't gel for some people and they only like taking it exactly as far as the text explicitly makes them, but I really get a lot out of reading jon's connection to the fears as addiction precisely because he does genuinely awful things to people as a result of it. he's a person in a very bad physical and mental place with little to no support who is constantly being told by both allies and enemies that he's already a monster just by being alive, and he copes with that by secretly falling further and further into an compulsive act of consumption that skews his priorities and makes him care less about hurting people because at least sometimes getting to be the cause of pain makes him feel a little bit less powerless when he has to be the subject of pain the rest of the time. then he's found out and is made to stop, and he has to grapple not just with the physical toll of withdrawal but with knowing there is a not insignificant part of him that will excuse any act of malice if he knows he'll feel better afterwards.

the end of tma is very explicit in the fact that the rules of its world are shaped by the subjective worst fears of those who live in it, it's "an exercise in unreliably reality" as jonny sims put it once, and I think that principle extends backwards in some ways to apply to the rest of the show. I don't think the fact that there are only entities of fear and not hope or love is meant to be a full commentary on the total nature of the real world, it's a reflection of what fear and suffering can make the world feel like. eric and melanie both go to really harsh extremes to extricate themselves from the fears and live peaceful lives, and in both cases something happens that foils their plans (getting murdered + the apocalypse, respectively), but I don't think the intended message is to say that is definitively how real life works, they are metaphors for the limits of individual agency in larger systems and represent two types of worst-case-scenarios. similarly, I don't think reading jon as an addict implies that addiction inherently involves violence or that the reactions of those around him were completely unjustified, it's just a subjective exploration of the kinds of fears that can come with addiction dialed up to 100.

[nexyra]

RWBY's Love Language - Part 2

Hello friend ! I'm back at it with a second part and whatever character I can think of ! (Among which best boy Oscar because he deserves it, and also more adults)

Let's go !

***

Oscar Pine

So ! While I love Oscar with my whole heart, honestly guessing his Love Language is no easy feat. One thing for sure : touch isn't is thing even if it's how everyone else chose to communicate their love.

I saw a post a while back detailing how Oscar is always putting his hands up as a barrier when he's scared or uncomfortable and that makes me cry a little instead but it's true TT. Anyway...

In the latest volumes we've got quite a bit of comforting Oscar-talks but I have to wonder how much of that is due to Ozpin's influence really. As a result I've decided to settle on... Acts of Service or Quality Time ! This is based on a few details : when people are upset with him in one shape or form, Oscar was always very eager to prove himself useful, give some aspect of concrete help (such as cooking a Casserole, ringing any bell ?). Plus I imagine that's the exact brand of help his Aunt would have needed most on a farm. Added to that, he always seems fairly happy to be included, be with the others no matter what's going on. Training ? Yay ! A movie with Jaune & Weiss ? Smiling puppy look. Fancy party ? Shenanigans together ! So yea, I love seeing my boy loved and hugged but please everyone settle for the loving he's most comfortable with <3

“She made a choice! A choice to put others before herself! So do I.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I thought you guys would appreciate a hot meal after... spending all day looking for me, apparently.”

“No, it's okay. These past few days, I've been scared of the same things you were. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be... me. But I did some thinking, and I do know that I want to do everything I can to help with whatever time I have left.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Ozpin

For our favorite immortal wizard aka not quite dead Headmaster... I think the answer is rather obvious. When you're so careful with your words, but also so fiercely devoted to humanity, Words of Affirmation is a must. Ozpin constantly does his best to calm, to reassure. He's good at controlling the conversation and getting people where he wants... Except he more often than not use it to make them think and help them reach an healing ore motivating conclusion. This man is so insisten on giving and cultivating hope, so painfully aware of just how much words can change... There's no doubt in my mind that it's through these very same words that he tries to fight the darkness in others' mind, even when they don't want to let themselves be persuaded. And with some help from the farmboi, Ozpin is gaining in honesty and earnestness. And that can only help in giving comfort.

But to be honest... If you offer him a hug I doubt he'd refuse, and he definitely deserves one. Also therapy. For Oscar too. Everyone in therapy 2k21.

“Ruby. I've made more mistakes than any man, woman, and child on this planet. But at this moment I would not consider your appointment to leader to be one of them. Do you?”

“It's not every day that friends are able to come together like this. Time has a way of testing our bonds, but it's nights like these that can help keep them stronger than ever. Nights like these are ones we'll never forget.”

“Don't worry, Mr. Arc. Your journey is far from over, and the same might be said for all of you. Unlocking your Semblance isn't the end. It can still grow and evolve. Providing you are willing to put in the work, who knows what could happen?”

- - - - - - - - - -

Emerald Sustrai

Now here I'm gonna go ahead and say that the way Emerald has been taught to express her love and the way SHE would rather preffered to be loved most likely do not align. At the side of someone like Cinder, and even Mercury who isn't exactly the most emotionally vulnerable person; the only brand of love that gets an easy pass is Acts of Service, and that's probably what Emerald is the most used to. I can go on a mission with you. I can help. We go right back to the "I can be useful" mentality and I'm not sure she's been shown any other way honestly. Let's be real though : if someone offered a hug or some gentle words ? She'd probably pout & fuss but I hardly doubt she'd object.

“I don't care about Salem! But I owe Cinder everything. You want to fight her that bad? Be my guest.”

“I just... Cinder was the only family I ever had. She cared about me, taught me things... But without her here, I don't know if what we're doing--”

“I've been working on my Semblance. I can help. I won't tell anybody.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Pyrrha Nikos

What's with everyone and dedicating their whole love toward just helping their teammates anyway they can ?! Stop ! But any way, you guessed it. I'm pretty sure one of Pyrrha's top way of showing love is Acts of Service, and nothing means quite as much to her as Quality Time. For someone who's been put on a pedestal and has a hard time relating to people; both touch and words can be a bit awkward. But if they're wrapped up neatly in a training session or semblance explanations ? Well that's already a more familiar area. Pyrrha gives her whole to her friends and those she cares about. And in exchange, if anyone can simply... be there and spend time with her... May it be at the ball or simply sitting in the courtyard... I'm sure our girl would be delighted.

“Jaune, you know if you ever need help, you can just ask.”

“I'm constantly surrounded by love and praise; but when you're placed on a pedestal like that for so long, you become separated from the people that put you there in the first place. But thanks to you, I've made friendships that will last a lifetime.”

“I'll do it. If you believe this will help humanity, then I will become your Fall Maiden.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Qrow Branwen

If I say Gift Giving for the corvid, is someone gonna hit me ? Come on it's fun ! Okay, more seriously... I think this kind of love conversation is kind of a necessity for Qrow. With a semblance such as Bad Luck, making everything complicated... Qrow tries to keep his distance from those he cares about. And since he's an emotionally repressed (but caring) asshole on top of it... Well that kinda narrows down his option. You know what DOESN'T put anyone at risk but can still bring smiles on their face ? GIFTS. Shiny things, souvenirs from his missions all over the world to give to 2 smol nieces. Sounds safe right ? That said, as any good emotionally unavailable character in this show, I gotta say Qrow probably has a thing for helping out and making himself useful in relation to Oz, Tai or the rest of the inner circle. So you know what that means *whisper* Acts of Service.

That said ! When it comes to receiving some love back... Qrow probably likes everything he doesn't allow himself to have. Soft touches, loving & comforting words, spending time with a friend without his semblance making everything complicated... We know that's all he wants.

“You idiot. I know you didn't do this.”

“Look, pal, I'm not sure who you are, but you need to leave my niece alone.”

“No one wanted me... I was cursed... I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world... I thought I was finally doing some good...”

- - - - - - - - - -

Clover Ebi

And among our newbies (and gone too soon) friends we have Clover ! Clover was a very good contrast to our dusty old crow but also a great help. Kind-hearted, perceptive and honest; he knew just how to put Qrow's self-loathing in his place and push him to give himself some credit. He always had a nice word or a joke for everyone, and visibly the rock of the Ace Ops : an expert a keeping the moral up and the mood companiable. Evidently, Words of Affirmation was his expertise. Had things gone differently, I'm sure we'd have had time for many more earnest and helpful conversations with this teal-eyed fisherman.

“It's a good thing they had someone to look up to and get them through it. Not everyone is so lucky.”

“I meant deflect a compliment. Those kids wouldn't be where they are without you. You've had more of an effect on them than you realize.”

“We don't have to fight, friend.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Winter Schnee

And today in the "emotionally unavailable" category we have... Winter Schnee ! TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS PEOPLE ! Just - I would say look at Ruby but even she doesn't talk about her bad vibes... Nor does any of the "Words of Affirmation" peeps. Honestly what's wrong with y'all people ? Anyway Winter cares so much. Is it hidden behind professionalism and a stern *big sister* demeanour ? Sure. But it doesn't negate just how much she loves her closed ones. She's fiercely loyal, and even if she doesn't let her personal feelings get in the way of her duty and doing what needs to be done, no one is allowed to say she doesn't care. Countrary to Weiss, Winter doesn't seem as good nor as aware of the love that exists in simply *being* with people. Rather, she's dutiful and ready to help any way she can when given the chance. You guessed it, yet another Acts of Service kind of love... Maybe I'm doing this wrong XD. I'm on the fence about Words of Affirmation as well. Despite her standoffish looks, Winter has always been very open & reassuring during her discussions with Penny. But she's more stern when it comes to Weiss so I dunno x)

“I don't recall asking about your ranking, I'm asking how you've been. Are you eating properly? Have you taken up any hobbies? Are you making new friends?”

“You've grown up a bit, haven't you? You're not the little girl clinging to the family name anymore.”

“You can't just buy trust like everything else! You have to earn it!”

And that's it for Part 2 ! I might do some other characters if people suggest some but I don't have a pressing need to right now. I have many ideas of songs to apply to various characters however so that's prob what my next posts will consist of (or fun templates)

If anyone has tips to create RWBY gifs or links to download the eps in good quality I'll take it ! Good day everyone !

[emachinescat]

Another whumpy AU.

Title: Henry's Allegory of the Doghouse | Fandom: Psych

Summary: Just when Henry is wondering if trying to repair his relationship with his son is worth it, after all, he gets a call that changes everything. "Mr. Spencer? It's Gus. I'm at Santa Barbara General. There's been an accident." Spellingg Bee AU; part 2 of "AU That Glitters" series. Contains spoilers and whump.

Words: 3,307

TW: motorcycle accident

AO3 Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Episode: s01e02 Spellingg Bee, Whump

Year Published: 2017

Full story here or on AO3!

When Henry ventured back outside, dusk had come and gone and night was beginning in earnest. He wasn't surprised to see that Shawn had left without saying goodbye. He was even less surprised that he'd left the doghouse unfinished and the tools out. With a grunt of irritation, Henry lugged the pitiful excuse of a doghouse back into the garage and tossed the toolbox in behind them. Half wishing that he could slam down the garage door to get some of his irritation out, he had to settle for jabbing the control button repeatedly and aggressively.

He should have known. Shawn had never finished anything when he was a kid; why would he start now? Never mind the fact that he was pushing thirty. Henry snorted. Face it, Spencer, he ordered himself. Shawn never grew up, and chances are he never will.

Stomping back up the stairs to the porch and slamming the front door behind him, Henry found himself wondering if it was even worth trying to salvage the mess he and Shawn had made of their relationship at this point. Shawn obviously wasn't trying, just like he never tried at anything. Why should he have to put in all this effort if Shawn was just going to give up, like usual?

It wasn't about the dog house, he realized. It never had been. It was, and always had been, about their relationship. With a small, unamused chuckle as he puttered around, getting ready to turn in, Henry acknowledged that his relationship with his son was the doghouse. Too much effort to make it work, stuffed into a dark corner until it necessity demanded it be dragged out and refinished, but it was still too much effort to make it work, and so… and so back in the darkness it went.

***

Shawn internally cursed that stupid doghouse as he veered his motorcycle around a wide curve. Why was nothing ever simple with his father? For Pete's sake, Shawn had asked for a tiny favor, and his dad had dragged out the Hound Hotel from Hell out of the garage and insist that Shawn finish it. Did he not realize that this case was time sensitive? If he was going to solve this case and keep his standing at the police department, prove that he wasn't a one-hit-psychic wonder, he needed results and fast. Did Dad not realize that this kind of thing was one of the reasons he'd left home in the first place?

Yeah, the divorce and being there for his mom were factors – big ones, in fact – but did his father ever stop to consider that what might have driven Shawn away – driven Mom away – might have been his overbearing, overruling, stifling iron grip? No, of course he didn't. Because all he cared about was results. How many hats, Shawn? How many hats?

Who – the hell – cares?

With a frustrated sigh, willing to admit, at least to himself, that he was, by this point, possibly, brooding, he tried to clear his mind and focus on the road before him. Maybe he'd given up a little too soon. As much as he hated that idiotic doghouse, it was, unfortunately, his key to finding out what had poisoned the spelling bee judge. Tomorrow, he'd come back and fix the damn house, get his results, and go back to avoiding his dad as much as possible.

The headlights of a larger vehicle coming up fast behind him indicated that someone wanted to pass. Shawn kept to his side of the road to let them by, but they just kept coming. Before Shawn could figure out what exactly was going on, they were on him, jarring the back of his bike and sending him careening off course.

Shawn struggled to regain control of his bike, but it was too late. The last thing he saw before being tossed from his bike and toward the rocky ravine on the side of the road was a large van, headlights blazing, overtaking the smoldering corpse of his bike and disappearing over the hill.

Then there was pain, and everything went black.

***

Henry's phone woke him up.

Looking at the clock on the nightstand, he saw that it was just a few minutes to midnight. "Seriously, Shawn?" he grumbled as he fumbled out of bed and groped around for his phone. Who else would be calling him this late? And probably wanting some asinine favor as well. Well, tough luck, kid.

When he looked at the number on displayed on the screen, though, he didn't recognize it. Damn telemarketers were getting a lot more ambitious these days. Still, a spike of foreboding rose up in his gut. Telemarketers didn't work these kinds of hours. Even they, devil spawn though they were, had to sleep sometime. And Henry didn't give his number out to just anybody, so who…?

Clamping down on the sick feeling trying to encapsulate his being, Henry answered gruffly.

"Yeah, hello?"

The voice on the other side was quiet and shaky. He didn't recognize it until it said, "Mr. Spencer? It's Gus."

Guster? Really? Henry could've sworn he had the kid's number, if only to keep tabs on Shawn. Maybe he'd gotten a new number, or Henry hadn't added Gus's number when he got his own cell phone earlier in the year. Either way, it looked like it was his son's much-too-patient-and-forgiving best friend calling, which meant that Shawn had done something stupid. Again.

"Gus? What did Shawn do this time? You're not at the Mexican border, are you?"

The next words froze Henry's veins and released the fear that had been trying to build up inside of him. "N-no. I'm at Santa Barbara General. There's been an accident."

Henry was out the door before Gus finished speaking, in his truck, and speeding toward the hospital.

God, please. Not again.

***

When he arrived, it was to find Gus pacing back and forth in the ER waiting room, arms crossed tightly across his chest, a breathy keening noise accompanying every breath. Henry recognized it instantly as a panic attack, as he'd had to coach a much younger Guster through several of them when he and Shawn were kids, once when a large, but harmless, spider had found its way onto Gus's sneaker. That one had been a doozy.

But Henry didn't have time to put the kid gloves on (oddly enough, it'd always been a lot easier to don the kid gloves for a kid who wasn't his own). Stalking over to Gus, grabbing the frantic man by his tense shoulders, and spinning him around to face him, Henry demanded, "What happened?"

Gus's eyes were red-rimmed, but he managed to regain relative control of himself. "I'm not sure. I got a call about forty-five minutes ago from the hospital. They said that Shawn had been in an accident and that he was en route to the ER. They didn't give me much more than that; I'm waiting on the doctor right now."

Henry's heart tripped over its metaphorical feet in relief. That meant Shawn was alive. Hopefully, he would stay that way. Then Henry could kill him himself. How many times had he told Shawn to get rid of that death machine?

A thought suddenly occurred to him, and it troubled him more than he cared to admit: "Why'd they call you? Why didn't I get a notification?"

Gus was suddenly very interested in a stain that looked disturbingly like dried vomit on the waiting room's wall.

"Gus…?"

"I don't know; they told me I was Shawn's emergency contact."

Henry's heart sunk like lead into his gut. "What about me? Last time—"

"I don't know, Mr. Spencer. I'm sorry. Shawn must have changed it. You'll have to ask him, I don't know…"

The wheezing was starting back again. Releasing the tension in his shoulders the best he could, knowing that Gus wasn't at fault, Henry gently guided the young man to an empty chair and sat him down. After Henry had settled in beside him, he spent a few moments studying his son's best friend. He hadn't seen the kid much since Shawn had left home. Hadn't seen him at all since he'd left for Florida and come back last year. Kid must be keeping himself busy, he assumed. He looked good, though. Other than the obvious panic attack ravaging his systems.

"It's okay, Gus," Henry said, awkwardly patting the young man's back. Once Gus had calmed down enough, Henry rose to his feet. "I'm going to go to the front desk, see what they can tell me."

From behind his hands came Gus's muffled reply, "Good luck with that. They wouldn't tell me a thing except to please sit down and we'll let you know as soon as we know something." The high-pitched mocking tone was so petulant, it nearly caused Henry to let out a bark of hysterical laughter. Instead, he made his way to the desk, determined to get some answers about his son.

Three frustrating minutes later, he sat back down beside Gus and let his own face drop into his own hands. "Dammit."

Gus's muttered "told you" didn't help matters any, and Henry closed his eyes and tried to stave off his own waves of panic.

Dammit, kid. Why didn't I check up on you sooner? I should've asked you to stay for dinner… I should have made you finish it… I should have gotten rid of that damn bike a long time ago.

***

It was a little over an hour later when a nurse poked her head into the room and announced, "Shawn Spencer?"

Henry and Gus clambered to their feet and followed her when she beckoned them over. "We'll just take a moment to talk before we go see Shawn, okay?" She led them to a quiet hallway to the left of the main bustle of the ER and into a small office better suited to be a broom closet. "Have a seat." Gus and Henry scrunched themselves into the two hard plastic chairs nearly stacked on top of one another on one side of the office. For two people who hadn't properly spoken in years, it was a little too close for comfort, but neither complained, too focused on getting information about Shawn.

"Hi, I'm Lily Eastridge," she introduced herself. "I've been helping Dr. Davis with Shawn; he's finishing up with him right now. Are you Shawn's father?"

Henry dipped his head. "Henry Spencer; this is Shawn's friend, Gus. How's my son?"

"Overall, he's pretty lucky, Mr. Spencer. It could have been a lot worse. Still, he has some pretty extensive injuries, but none that should prove to be life-threatening. Your son should make a full recovery."

Both Henry and Gus breathed sighs of relief. "Thank God," Gus exhaled.

The nurse smiled. "So this is what we're looking at right now." She consulted her chart with a quick flick of her eyes before continuing, "Shawn was brought in via ambulance after a passerby spotted his motorcycle off of Nilesferry."

"He was on that backroad on his bike? No wonder he crashed," Henry couldn't help but grouse. How many times had he told Shawn to stick to well-lit roads, especially at night.

The nurse allowed his micro-tantrum, then went on as if nothing had happened. "We did several tests, including an MRI, an XRAY, and an Ultra Sound to check for internal organ damage. Ultimately, we treated Shawn for a severe concussion – no skull fracture, but it was probably a close thing – and a broken wrist."

"That's all?"

The nurse raised her eyebrow at Henry's brash, but somewhat relieved, tone. "No. He had a couple of other concerning injuries, including a four-inch-long gash in his left shin and a dislocated kneecap." Gus and Henry winced in synchronization, but Nurse Lily wasn't done just yet. "This leads me to what is, along with the concussion, perhaps the most severe and concerning of his injuries. Shawn sustained a complete tear to his patellar tendon."

Gus said a word that Henry didn't even know was in the kid's vocabulary. Outwardly, Henry shot the kid a disapproving look. Inwardly, he was a bit proud of him. Didn't know Gus had it in him. But that led him to realize that something that would incite such a reaction in someone like Gus was probably not good at all for his son.

"Can we speak in layman's terms?" Henry asked irritably, his worry for his son coming out as it always did – through gruff words and brash tones.

"The patellar tendon's what anchors the kneecap to the shinbone," Gus explained. "It's usually a pretty debilitating injury, especially a complete tear."

The nurse shot Gus an impressed look. "Wow, are you in the medical field?"

Even in his state of worry, Gus managed to adapt a smug look on his face and flick the side of his nose like a mosquito had just landed on it. "I'm in pharmaceuticals. Surprised I haven't seen you around here."

"Gus, time and place," Henry snapped. "So what are you going to do about the tendon?"

"We've scheduled him for surgery first thing tomorrow morning. Dr. Cunningham is doing the procedure; he's very skilled at what he does. After that, Shawn will have to go through some pretty intensive physical therapy, and he may have a limp for a while, but he should, eventually, regain full mobility and function of his leg again."

"Thank God." This time it was Henry's turn to thank a deity he wasn't even sure he believed in.

"Can we see him?" Gus asked.

"Certainly. Fair warning, he is in a good deal of pain. We do have him on morphine, but low doses so that we can better monitor his concussion overnight. As long as those symptoms don't worsen, the doctor should be able to use an anesthetic to put Shawn to sleep during the surgery instead of a local one, and we should be able to bump up his pain meds after the surgery." She gave them an encouraging smile. "Now, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to Shawn. The doctor should be getting him moved out of the ER and into a room shortly, and then you can stay with him tonight if you wish."

***

Shawn looked, for lack of a better word, like hell. Lying there with his left leg bandaged and suspended above the bed, IV pumping drugs – but not enough to dull the shine of pain in his eyes and on his forehead – into his arms, head bandaged, eyes unfocused and glassy, wrist in a splint until they put it in a more permanent cast…

"Dammit, kid," Henry said for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He reached out, hesitated, then told his pride to shove it and brushed a strand of sweaty hair off of the kid's forehead. "I told you that damn thing wasn't safe."

Shawn seemed to be having trouble following the conversation, because at least two and a half minutes passed before he responded, words slurred and voice hoarse, "'t wasn' my fault."

Henry shook his head. "It never is, kid."

"N-no," Shawn gasped, squirming slightly against the pain. "Wasn' an… acc'dent."

Henry's heart stuttered. Was Shawn trying to say what it sounded like he was saying? "Shawn, did someone do this to you? Was this intentional?"

It was another long, agonizing minute before Shawn caught up with the conversation and tried to nod, decided against it with a wince of pain, and answered aloud, "Yes. Someone ran me… off th' road."

Anger like none Henry had ever felt welled up inside of him like a volcanic eruption. Someone had done this to his son. Someone had tried – and damn near succeeded – to kill him. He cursed. Loudly. So loudly, in fact, that he woke Gus, who had nodded off in the window seat.

"Wuzzat?"

"Don't worry about it, Gus; go back to sleep," Henry ordered.

Muttering something indistinct about Pluto, Gus acquiesced with a cavernous yawn.

"How'd I … get here?" Shawn asked blearily. He looked like he was about to drift off, and Henry hoped to God that the meds were starting to do something.

"Ambulance, kid. How else? Some good Samaritan saw your bike in the brush and called 911."

Shawn was now trying to shake his head and discovering that this, too, was a no-no for people with severe concussions. "Can't be right," he muttered. "The d'rection the bike … was headin' … too far out, no street lights. No one could'a seen me…"

Henry narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying, Shawn?"

"M'be they didn' mean to kill me."

Henry's eyes now flew to the opposite end of the spectrum and widened. "You think the person who ran you off the road might've called 911?"

"Why not?" Shawn asked. "Should'a been no … way t' know it was them… Pro'ly waited a few minutes … then called. Would'a attracted lotta atten…tion if they'd killed me … 'tention they didn' … need…"

Shawn's eyes were drooping exponentially now, and although Henry's first instinct was to press for details about the car that had done this – because about to crash or not, Shawn would have noticed – he ultimately pushed his cop instincts aside and waded into the very strange – and new, and awkward, and uncomfortable, but not unwelcome – waters of father instincts. Giving his son an encouraging smile that the kid probably didn't even see, he smoothed back another couple strands of hair and said, "That's a good lead, Shawn. I'll call the station right now and have them track the number and see if we can find the person who did this."

Barely conscious anymore, Shawn added, sounding like he was already asleep, "…pro'ly … find … our killer … too …"

Henry laughed softly. "Damn it if you don't manage to solve this case while concussed in a hospital bed, kid."

To his surprise, Shawn said one final thing before succumbing to slumber, "I'll fix … the doghouse … t'morrow, kay, dad?"

Amazed, with a tightness in his chest that felt surprisingly like pride, Henry shook his head at his son's drugged and concussed optimism. "Don't think you'll be up to that for a while, sport," he said, resting a hand briefly on Shawn's mussed hair. "We'll do it together when you get better, huh?"

There was no response. Henry waited a few minutes, until he was certain that Shawn was finally, mercifully asleep, then grabbed his cell phone and stood up to make the call. Halfway to the door, Henry turned to look at his now resting son. He thought of the doghouse, and of how he'd lamented the effort that Shawn didn't seem to be willing to put into it, or the relationship. He remembered how he'd wondered if it was even worth it to try to resurrect his relationship with his son.

After the roller coaster of emotions he'd ridden in just a few short hours, he'd learned one thing: It was most definitely worth it. He'd lost him once to circumstances and hard feelings. Now that he had a chance to get him back, Henry was sure as hell not going to lose him again. It would be a long, hard, tough road, and they'd probably regret taking it at some point or another, but the moments with his son tonight in the hospital room had proven that it could be done.

It would be done, just like the damn doghouse, even if he had to do all the work himself.

But smiling softly, remembering his son's offer to fix the doghouse the same day he would be having his knee opened up, he realized that he probably wouldn't have to.

Maybe, just maybe, Shawn was willing to try to fix the ragged remains of the doghouse of their relationship, too.

[pafsplayground]

OKAY WELL I REALLY WANT TO RANT ABOUT MY OCS SO YEAH Y'ALL HAVE TO SIT THROUGH THIS FOR A BIT

Page is super self conscious, that's why he's literally the only one in his immediate family who wears a mask.

Lil Meg was found rummaging in the trash by Jiri, she immediately bit Jiri's wings upon being picked up.

The last time Twist had more than two airheads they almost broke their leg after forgetting that their hand isn't attached to their body and tried to dangle from a tree. They were not allowed candy since.

Claymore LOVES coffee. It doesn't have the same effect to him as it does to others (cuz hes an alien) but he likes it.

Kinda obvious but Claymore smells like clay.

Page has a strawberry garden in his and Twist's backyard.

Fluff brings Claymore coffee from the Cafe whenever she visits her brothers.

Jiri, who started as just my internet persona, is now considered a universe jumping being. This is why she plays a roll in Lil Meg meeting Page and Twist despite not technically belonging in their universe.

Tove and Fluff have been friends since 7th grade.

Draca likes all meat EXCEPT for turkey, for some reason. Nobody knows why but that's the ONLY meat she won't eat. She is why ham is present at family dinners during this universe's version of thanksgiving.

Yes, they have a different version of thanksgiving in this world.

Lee, Hunter's daughter, plays Smash Bros and mains Kirby.

She has also completed every run in Undertale. Including all the neutral endings.

Fluff likes musicals. Her current favourite is The Lightning Thief musical. Totally not just me projecting on my own characters

Draca struggled with her sexuality for a while because she was never introduced to the concept of sexuality (not her mom's fault, you can't expect a dragon to think it's important to specify. Her mom is very supportive.)

Probably cursed but in this universe the Cats musical is called Humans and Humans (2019) is just as cursed as Cats (2019).

Fluff makes great smoothies.

Hunter has a Reddit account SOLELY because he frequents r/roastme. He's very well known there.

Lee has TONS of Worms-on-strings. She sells them for two dollars a worm at school. She has multiple packs of thirty sitting in her closet.

Fluff loves buying succulents. She has three on her nightstand.

While Fluff has a green thumb, Draca has a black thumb of death. She can't even water a plant without killing it.

Draca is lactose intolerant.

Which is a real shame because she loves cheesecake.

Fluff's tail gets REALLY heavy after a shower and she spends 30 minutes after showering using a blow dryer on it.

Lee has Minecraft pajamas. Tons of them. More than just the Enderman onesie.

Amari has a tiktok account with 10k followers.

Hunter does his best to be a good dad to Lee. He goes all out on birthday decorations and themes.

The Boone-Kless family get together once a month for DnD. Draca's mom hosts for the atmosphere, she also roleplays the bbeg because it hits different when a 50 foot long dragon is the one monologuing.

Lee has ADHD and uses fidget toys and sensory stuff.

Page loves trail mix.

There is literally no reason for twist to not have an arm I just decided why not and gave them a floating hand and no arms. Their twin sister is perfectly normal.

Oh yeah they have a twin sister.

While uncle Alistair could have raised the Boone kids, he was already dealing with 2 year old Adya and Twist so he didn't want an infant and a six year old to worry about.

The Boone kids were raised by grandma and grandpa Uroe instead.

Fluff was 4 and Hunter was 9 when they found Claymore and his little crash site. (I'll talk about Claymore's story in a separate post.)

Lee WILL talk your ear off about her special interests.

Despite everyone in this universe being furries, pets do still exist. It's like a monkey-human situation.

Fluff wants a pet snake.

Both Fluff and Page are eggnog monsters. During the holidays, it's best to get your cup before they even know it's in the house or you won't get any.

Draca is a great cook. Fluff on the other hand, is better at baking.

Page and Fluff bond over baking.

As much as she loves the latte art Fluff can do, Lee is no longer allowed more than one (1) cup of coffee a week.

Nobody knows why Hunter and Fluff's parents had a hit on them. It's a cold case.

Hunter has nightmares about his parents.

Hunter made some mistakes as a teen and as a result, is a single dad. Lee's mom wasn't a nice person. He blames himself.

Draca can breathe fire but she doesn't use it often. When she gets tired, little puffs of smoke come out of her nose.

Switching universes for a sec, the largest age gap between the Test Subjects is 3 years (Sty 13, Carmen 16)

The youngest known subject was 9 but the "researchers" felt like they were too annoying and stubborn to deal with.

The current youngest known subject is 12. They are not central to the story. If it's any consolation, the Test Subjects do end up busting out the others eventually.

The Test Subjects were captive for 2 years. Adam was 13. Cam was 13. Sty was 10 (and a half!).

After busting out; Adam, Cam, and Sty helped Carmen out. As a result, freeing Julie as well.

Julie is an asshole and never gets redeemed in any way. She manipulated and took advantage of Carmen and deserves what she gets.

Not a single main character in The Test Subjects is straight. Not one.

Adam is aro ace.

Cam is an ace lesbian.

Sty is a demi boy (they/them and he/him) and gay.

Carmen is a lesbian.

Julie is.... Well.... She's Julie. She doesn't care. She's pan, I guess.

Cam spent MONTHS stumbling around before Adam and Sty just went "nope, we are GETTING you a cane"

The "researchers" didn't give two shits about the subjects comfort or pain. They'd regularly perform horrible stitching and this resulted in them just saying "if it bothers you so much, fix it yourself".

Basically the subjects performed surgery on each other to PROPERLY stitch up whatever transplants they had.

They also bandaged them poorly, so the subjects would have their "roommates" fix it.

The rooms they were kept in had one "bed" that they either fought over or took turns on.

They weren't kept in the best condition is what I'm saying.

Carmen is the mom friend of the group.

If I could draw it right, Carmen would have a lip piercing. We'll have to settle for earrings for now.

On the topic of piercings, Draca would definitely have an eyebrow piercing if her scales didn't get in the way.

Speaking of Draca, she was a very rebellious teenager. One time she graffitied a huge green dragon on the side of a building that cut down a ton of trees in front of her mom's cave.

Speaking of Draca's mom, she's bisexual and currently dating a Sapper named Trix.

Back to the dnd thing, here are their most played classes.

Draca tends to play barbarians or paladins. Real tank-y classes.

Fluff plays druid or sorcerer.

Claymore likes playing bard.

Hunter tends to go for rangers.

Twist likes playing a wild mage.

Page prefers wizards or warlocks.

When they let her play, Lee plays a Cleric.

Mipos, Draca's mom, never told Draca what kind of dragon they are.

Lee decorates her room with stickers and posters.

These are the Boone-Kless fam's current PCs

[shamelesssoulkidvoid-blog]

LESSON #24 THE CHECKLIST OF THE INCORRECT MAN

Celebrating the post 80 and the almost senescence of the blog, it is time to review again if they are all paying attention and putting into practice all the wise #yawey councils distributed here.

At this stage of the game, you should have it very clear #colorchocolate what are the things you should look for in a man and what not. Enfantizando the no.

Check this checklist and see how many of these characteristics your new candidate has:

IT IS TERRITORIAL:

You give him a bit the same 80% of the time and the other 20% is grabbing you making you think he does not give the same, but deep down you're as interchangeable as a world-class album figure. It always happens like this: Something happens between you, it disappears, and it seems to make it clear that the thing is not going anywhere untilaaaaaa ....

Until someone else loves you, even better if someone is close to him. There if he comes back and for all. Why? Well, because he loves you.

I lied! By ego.

That's right, look at it as Candy Crush but instead of candy, egos, and you are the chocolate ball at that moment. Points for your ego to prove that you can have it when you want, double "sweet" "divine" points if it rises in positions within the ranking of their friends.

So every time you agree to grab it, throw it away, answer the chats, change plans for him, you're collaborating with him to feel even more winning and level up ... do you want that? EEEEESOOOO QUIEEEERES? # YesI wantNoMentiraI do not wantPerdónameColombiaSoltera.

YOU HAVE A PANIC TO COMMITMENT

All the men in our fabulous and rather deceptive romantic comedies have a quasi-lethal phobia of commitment. But what Hollywood teaches us is that if you behave yourself and you also look like Emma Roberts, the anillophobes will put aside their emotional disorders, and they will make you their foreva and eva.

Well, in real life, the thing is a little more cumbersome and less entertaining. A man who does not want to define things does not do it because:

- You do not convince him, then he is still checking the menu while he has you there on the waiting list.

- You have mommy issues, or daddy issues, or some kind of trauma where life taught you that relationships only bring problems, in which case you will need more than short dresses and sharp comments, to get him out of his mental traps.

- He loves to stay with several legs open tabs: he is a man who enjoys having options, it is more of the emotional buffet than a la carte, and if you like to be the white rice of your life, then go ahead.

IT IS AMBIGUOUS:

If you could describe how it feels for you in a single word it would be:

a) adsñkasldad.

b) I do not understand the question, there is a lack of data.

c) Fish.

If you marked any of the above is because you clearly DO NOT HAVE IDEA. And you have no idea because his behavior seems to indicate that he feels love / hate / disinterestedness / friendship / madness / indifference / laverdadnosleolloolor.

He is an ambiguous, ethereal guy, everything he says sounds gaseous and highly misinterpretable. He is one of those who can throw you a "miss you" and mean 32 things at the same time.

Why do you insist on living in a world where you have to guess what Wednesday is happening all the time ?! Is not it enough for you to live in Peru ?!

Look, you're not a Xmen character, he can not choose to be 20% girlfriend 50% grip 30% friend 10% psychologist 10% entertainment-on-board-while-I'm-in-the-chamba-and-I-do not -a-nobody-with-who-textear. You are a person and you have the right to be one, and declare, to have a man with eggs, to come out of the emotional closet, and define how things are #TechitoModeOn.

IT IS IMMATURE

Sleep with children and you will wake up ...

Children often do not take responsibility for what they do, if the 3 year old breaks the jar, will not come to tell you that you are going to look for an equal or deposit your value, probably try to hide it under the carpet or blame his sister. The little ones do not know well how to deal with certain emotions and they get desperate, that is why sometimes they push the friend, or they get tantrum.

That is why they have mothers who raise them, and turn them into little men capable of taking responsibility for their actions, who know what they want and where they are going, who understand where certain emotions come from and do not intimidate them, on the contrary, they live them maximum.

Well, this one skipped that step and except for not needing a diaper or using a bottle, it's still a baby. One capable of tearing you apart and hiding under the carpet, of forgetting your supposed "friendship" and hurting you, of beginning to babble about the need to do something productive for your life other than beating your own PlayStation record.

IT IS A MAN "OF MANADA"

The friends. THE FRIENDS. Your tribe, your pack. It is a concept that goes beyond being only legs, here there is a theme of who is alpha and who is not, of a man who does not bring a dead animal, not a man. Then there are the sacred dates with the cronies, the mutation that suffers every time you are with them that makes you want to call the Ministry of Culture and say that you have found the remains of the Cromagnon man. And everyone has a bit of macho, a bit of "oe huevón do not be stepped on all day you're behind that skinny" and "do not let any woman tell you what to do" (and usually they are the ones who need to be say WHAT TO DO #SiSabesALoQueMeRefiero

He is the typical individual who feels so pressured by the group, who always walks in the internal battle of being a normal asshole or being a quasisimio # EvolucionasMásLentoQuePikachu

Then it is important to tell you that you do not need to have someone who has so little confidence in himself that he has to try things on other people all the time.

RESULTS

If you did not mark any:

See how you've grown. It seems like yesterday you were hugging the water, cursing the moment you took that third Jäger and left that second message. And now you have a guy next to you, well, I have no idea if it's the right one, but if it's none of the above, it can not be that bad, so we'll consider it a crushing victory.

If you marked one:

The idiot you have on your side is not the worst idiot on the face of the earth, but you should end it / stop checking your last connection time on WhatsApp. It's like the beginning of the flu, right now it's a little annoyance, but you know it's going to be horrible.

You have learned some, but you have clearly skipped a couple of lessons, please start from number 1.

If you marked two:

Your man is almost 50% unacceptable. What does not imply that you can continue wallowing with him for "all those cute things that are in the other almost 50%". The other half are probably also signs that it's not for you, like having an ex that is your "best friend" and telling your fights with him. If you leave it now, it could still happen as a good anecdote for your friends and a reason for drunkenness playing I never.

If you marked three or four:

Have you ever seen one of those movies in which someone is stuck in his car in the middle of the rails and the train just approaches and can not catch the fucking car ?. Okay, that's you and you're about to be crushed by a toxicity machine. Your boy is like those bathrooms that smell terrible but they have put spray to try not to stink so much #ApestanYPeor. You are so close to disaster that if you do not go out now, you will not go out as a sister.

If you marked five:

Congratulations! Somehow you have managed not only to find a asshole, but one multiplied by 5, something like a Great Assassin, a Tera Assassin, a colossal or apotheosistic asshole. It requires a foolish woman, with questionable capacity for reasoning, and a poor vision to achieve it. Poor creature, you must have forgotten what a good man is; flee, run away now and we promise to make us crazy when someone asks us if that is your ex.