#cause i feel like way better people could've gotten this ask and given you a satisfying answer

[keyh0use]

Don’t you think the maturity difference between Rafe and Barry is a little weird? I mean Barry lives alone and sells drugs while Rafe is so dependent on his dad. And isn’t the age difference also a little strange?

I don’t mean this as hate just genuinely asking.

Canonically? Not even a little bit. Almost everything about Barry is speculation. How old is he? We don't actually know because the show never confirms it, if he celebrates his 24th birthday in season 4 we can't argue he's actually 27 just because fandom says he is. He refers to the trailer(s) as his, but does he own them? Were they passed down when his parents died or were they foreclosures or is he renting or did he scrounge up enough cash to buy the property? Again, we don't know. In the first episode, Rafe and Barry clearly know each other but they aren't chummy. When Rafe gets himself into trouble he runs to Barry both to get high and to get help from someone who's just as loose with their morals as he is, and in turn Barry gets money. I won't say what formed between them is platonic because that would be a lie but I also don't think it was intentional, especially on Barry's part.

Is there a power imbalance? I don't really think so. Does Barry appear to have way more life experience? Yeah!

I think that's something Rafe would be attracted to (no matter how he views Barry; as a partner or a friend or a brother, etc.) because he thrives on guidance. And yes, Rafe is mentally ill and struggling with addiction while his father neglects and physically abuses him. He wants affection and reassurance and help which he has outright asked for only to be told very coldly to "man up." (and I want to take a second to point out so it's not glossed over that RAFE IS AN ADDICT. Rafe needs to get high often, drugs require money, Ward gives it to him. In what world would Rafe have the capacity to turn away offerings that carry little to no expectations from him? Houses, cars, money, etc., it's provided for him so what's the point of going to school or working hard like Barry has to?) At such an uncertain time in his young life it makes sense, at least to me, Rafe would be trying his hardest for approval. Especially with Sarah pulling away from the family and potentially making room for him to weasel his way into Ward's unfeeling heart. So I don't think Rafe's relationship with his father should be used as an example of why he's unfit for a relationship with someone more stable. If anything, I feel Barry and Rafe's lives would be better together, mainly because I feel Rafe would be pushed to get help and have the support to do it.

okay, but In fanfiction? Where they're dating or fucking? Sure, the age difference is a little off. As someone in their mid-twenties I sure as shit wouldn't date someone with 'teen' in their age. BUT I think it's fair to assume Barry The Drug Dealer didn't have the greatest moral compass to begin with, worsening after time with Rafe. Would he take advantage of Rafe's vulnerability? depends on what I'm writing, but probably, yeah, at least in the beginning. Would he use Rafe for status or money? same thing, probably in the right circumstances. There's probably more I could say but I feel like I'm rambling and I'm not sure I'm doing a good job at answering this anyway. But thank you for asking (:

[icedragonlizard]

Headcanon: Kirby hugs everyone

Kirby is a very huggy boi. He loves giving hugs.

Pretty much anyone that is Kirby's friend is going to get hugs from him.

Hugs is one of Kirby's ways to try to provide comfort for someone. He's not good with words of encouragement as he's kind of nonverbal a lot of the time anyways. He'll give you a hug to try to make you feel better, and he also does it just to make you appreciated and cared about, since he wants that for pretty much everyone more or less.

Generally, this works out very well. Even people such as Meta Knight, Magolor, and Daroach that generally aren't huggers on their own are glad to accept hugs from Kirby. It's the least they can do after how lovable and endearing he is, and after everything he's done as a hero.

Every dream friend has received hugs from Kirby. Even Dark Meta Knight, who is generally the most reluctant out of them to accept a hug, has relented to Kirby hugs. Nobody can deny Kirby his hugs.

A lot of Kirby's friends love to return the favor and give him hugs! The most prominent examples of this are King Dedede, Adeleine, Ribbon and the animal friends. Out of the animal friends, Rick, Nago and ChuChu are the most happy to have hugs with Kirby any time. Nago in particular is just a straight up cuddlebug, he's a big hugger too!

ChuChu, Kine and Gooey may not have great skin texture for hugs, but does Kirby care? No. He gives them hugs anyways! Even though Kine and Gooey aren't able to hug back, it's not like they care, they enjoy getting hug by Kirby regardless! They appreciate him so much.

Marx rarely gets hugs in his life. Generally, he doesn't really care for hugs. That being said, Kirby has given him hugs... and he appreciates it! There's a part of Marx that does think it's rather amusing that Kirby chooses to give him hugs considering what happened between the two before, but he figures that the least he can do is accept those hugs! Kirby caught him by surprise one time by hugging him while he was bouncing on his beach ball, which then caused him to fall.. Marx ended up laughing after that because Kirby sure got him there!

The mage sisters normally aren't suited for hugs considering their elements cover their bodies (i.e. Francisca feels icy to touch, Flamberge feels very fiery hot to touch) but I headcanon that they're capable of turning off the elements inside their bodies to where they're capable of giving hugs. And they do that for when Kirby asks to give them hugs. They love hugging with Kirby! They owe it to him after he saved them and Hyness, who likes to hug him as well!

Out of all of Kirby's friends, though, the two that are definitely most needing and deserving of hugs are Taranza and Susie, considering the things that have happened in their lives. After Kirby reconciled with them, he's sometimes been going out of his way to act as emotional support for them. He's made sure to give them both tons of hugs... their grief makes him sad and he wants to them to still feel cared about and appreciated despite losing the people they loved.

Taranza needs hugs for obvious reasons. Dude is just heartbroken from all the things that happened to him. He's so grateful to Kirby whenever he gives him hugs, it often makes him cry happily. Kirby is effective at acting like an emotional support dog for him sometimes.

Susie has gone a very long time without any hugs. When she got banished to Another Dimension, she didn't have anyone that she could've given hugs to, and when she finally returned to her mind-controlled father that forgot her existence, he refused to accept hugs from her... tragic. The first hug that she's gotten ever since the Another Dimension incident was from Kirby when they reconciled.

Because Susie went so long without hugs, it's made her not used to physical affection for the most part. When Kirby hugged her the first few times, it made her flabbergasted, and it even made her cry when she tried figuring out how to respond to it. But eventually as she got more used to it, she really likes Kirby's hugs! Even if she's still not really one for physical affection otherwise, she's glad to have hugs with Kirby any time... she's grateful for it, as it's indeed helpful for her.

That's basically all I have for this post! As this post highly establishes, I headcanon that Kirby loves giving hugs, and will give a lot of hugs to those that need it. It doesn't really get more huggable than Kirby.

Kirby is such a softie. He has so much love and care in his heart. He cares so, so much. Whenever he befriends someone, he's going to act like a real friend to them. He might not talk very often, but it usually doesn't even matter because of how endearing he is. He wants his friends to feel cared about and appreciated, and giving them hugs is probably his best method of making them feel cared about.

Thanks for reading! More Kirby headcanon posts will come later!

[cearthduo]

very interested in what u have to say the ctommy line "he's like my owner" about cdream and cdream having ctommy listen to a disc of him being tortured in exile. please rant about that slash not forced

This is a really fun ask because boy oh boy do I have thoughts. And I'm sure it will upset the masses (especially my take on the second part of this ask)

Now, to start with the owner quote... genuinely the bane of my existence. Mostly because people tend to use it to try and understand discduo's general dynamic when it should only be used to understand how Tommy feels. Tommy sees Dream as his owner, sure, but this doesn't automatically mean that Dream feels the same way. The only thing this quote does on Dream's behalf is highlight the amount of control he had over Tommy during exile. Or at least, shows how much power Tommy percieves him having. I say percieve because in reality, Dream had no power at all over Tommy. The realization of that is what motivates Tommy to leave exile in the first place and what keeps him going afterwards.

That quote, to me, shows Tommy's mental decline and his dependence on Dream as his only "friend" the only thing "keeping him alive" someone he depends on. Very similar to a pet and owner relationship. No matter what an owner does, a pet is unable to fight back, unable to run, unable to escape because it depends on it's owner for survival. This is how Tommy sees himself and Dream during exile. And that's all that quote is meant to show. I'd argue that Dream saw exile as more of a "mentorship" preparing and molding Tommy into a weapon he could use. Not unlike Techno post exile (though he definitely went about it in a moderately better way)

Now. Let's get into my favorite topic. Post prison discduo's relationship, because absolutely NO ONE has gotten this stage of their dynamic correct so it's all up to me. This will upset the "Dream is so obsessed with Tommy that he started fucking with him the second he got out of prison for no reasom" crowd, so i ask you to get your sighs and eye rolls out of the way now and enjoy the rant.

Before we can talk about the torture disc, we first have to talk about Dream's appearance on exile island. So... what was that about? Did Dream, fresh out of prison, really decide his first course of action would be to torment a child for no reason?

Well!

Obviously not.

Dream went to exile island for one reason and one reason only. To retrieve the axe of peace and repay his favor to Techno. Tommy just happened to be there and so Dream took the opportunity to scare him. But why? You might be asking. Why would Dream attack Tommy? He could've just left. Well, the answer is obvious, in fact Dream out right says it before he starts attacking Tommy.

Dream's main goal once he gets out of prison is to get revenge on the people who allowed him to be tortured in prison. Obviously, that means Sam and Quackity, so why then is Tommy attacked? Simple. Dream believes that Tommy direct caused and supported his torture. And this isn't a random moment of Dream blaming Tommy for his problems either. Dream is attacked by Quackity immediately after Q talks about Tommy's death/revival and Dream asks if people "thought it was cool." That makes it pretty obvious that Q was torturing Dream at least partially on Tommy's behalf. And given the fact that Tommy is the only person alive who has been affected by revival (and the reason Dream's life was originally spared due to Tommy wanting to keep the possibility of seeing Wilbur again) It makes perfect sense that Tommy is not only the reason that Q wants to torture Dream, but also may be the reason he wants the book at all.

Dream is not an idiot and could've easily pieced this together, causing Dream to treat Tommy the way he did Sam. Taunting, scaring, and threatening him as payback.

Now, let's go back to the original topic, the torture mixtape. We've already established that Dream has a real reason (in his mind) for targeting Tommy. But why did he do it the way he did? Well, we see during most of the post prison lore that Dream is not at his full strength. Tommy and Tubbo comment on how slow and weak he is during the dsmp finale. Dream also needs to recruit Purpled just to take down Quackity, who would've been easy work for let's say doomsday era Dream (minus the slime army which Dream didn't even know about when he recruited Purpled)

Dream's inability to fight is very important because it explains why Dream resorted to taunting, threats, and triggering Tommy's trauma. It's a scare tactic. Because scaring Tommy is really all he can do to get him off his ass. Even though Tommy is a weak opponent, Dream wouldn't be able to kill him in genuine combat. I mean, hell, Dream barely even comes close to harming Tommy or Tubbo during the finale. And so soon after his escape Dream was much weaker than we see him during the finale.

Post prison, Dream's goals barely even include Tommy anyway, and he's more of an annoying obstacle than a genuine opponent at that point. Tommy isn't even worth half the effort Dream gives to Quackity and Sam. Dream used the threats and mixtape to scare Tommy into avoiding him so that he wouldn't have to fight yet another opponent.

Also sidenote: Dream definitely knew Tommy was getting that axe to try and kill him. Again, he's not an idiot. Keeping Tommy too afraid to try anything is important for Dream's survival and his overall plan for the server.

Anyway! That's all I have to say about this topic. I haven't slept and I'm slowly going insane so uhm... if I repeat myself too many times justttt pretend I didn't.

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

I'm the Percy and Jason Are Opposites/Equals anon. Thx for the reply, and after reading it I agree with you with a lot of stuff. I do like Jason - but I wish he was expanded upon more, you know? Given more canon depth as we were with Percy. His trauma as a CHILD SOLIDER for one!. And his abandonment issues could've been tied to his Fatal Flaw - never choosing what he wanted because what if he chooses himself and it's wrong and he's abandoned again, alone in a scary place.

hey anon! sorry it took me a hot min to get to this I just wanted to finish up the drabble series before responding to asks and comments again

you and me both on the Jason expansion front. there's just too much happening in the hoo books. I think it would have been slightly better if Rick had made each book form one pov at least. that way, although we still have the problem of 5 strange new characters, we may have gotten a better insight into them if they each had their own book you know?

like

Jason pov for The Lost Hero

Hazel pov for The Son of Neptune

Piper pov for The Mark of Athena

Frank pov for The House of Hades

Leo pov for The Blood of Olympus.

I feel we could have gotten so much more from the characters like this.

Jason where he realizes the gaps in his memory, where he compares camps and fighting styles, Jason where he struggles with his reality and the fact that it was ripped from him once and it could be again (what's to stop it? it was so easy the first time). a deeper insight into his struggle between being Greek and Roman.

Hazel with her past life and how she is tied into the whole prophecy. Hazel learning how her past has brought her people from the present. how she has this power that she doesn't quite know how to use and it's causing a curse.

Piper figuring out who she is without the fake memories of Jason. with the new development of her parentage and the stings attached to that. the way she was the emotion amongst the group . how she worked to make sure everyone felt what they needed to feel. maybe a bit about her sexuality (which from what I gather *Trials of Apollo spoilers* she identifies as lesbian now?).

Frank learning to trust others with a life that ties to something easily gone. Frank figuring out his own mess of power and the burden that comes with being a child not of Aries but of Mars. frank who still grieves his mother. who doesn't really know how to fight the way his parentage would assume. Frank's internal struggles around the life he wants and the life he is being forced to have.

Leo figuring out how to win the war and what he must do. figuring out that he ISNT the seventh wheel. he is simply the seventh. Leo who is not a tag a long for the team but rather an integral and valued member. who doesn't revolve his whole life and interaction around his loneliness. who learns wha it means to be his own person.

I think more could have been done with the books. I think more should have been done. but I am looking at this with the eye of 21 year old who has had years of reading and analysis behind her now. they are still targeted towards 10-12 year olds and although Rick didn't do much for the characters he certainly gave his target audience something to devour.

so I guess everything with a large pinch of salt.

anyway I agree i wish we had more about everything to do with jason but I'm also really happy with our little corner of the universe where we develop and delve into Jason's character without the hindering of canon.

thanks for the ask anon! hope the weekend is going splendidly! I'm sitting in the sun as I type this and it's really a ball

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 3

Word Count: 4,279

POV: Reader

Warnings:  Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens

Notes: Ok so we’re moving on to part 3. Feel free to send me in suggestions for things that you’d like to see happen in the Bubble. Also a few people have mentioned our reader having a love interest in the end, feel free to tell me who you think it should be. I love hearing from your guys. Happy Reading!

If day two went anything like day one you had your work cut out for you in more ways than one. You woke up early and got ready, grabbing a quick breakfast in the kitchen that was part of your suite. Heading down to the lobby, you found that everything was going according to schedule and that breakfast seemed to be going fine and there had been no food fight incidents like last night's dinner. All in all, the morning went pretty well. A lot of the teams had practice or went to at least check out the rink and there was very minimal interaction between them. Lunch went just as smoothly, with only a few minor problems here in there that needed your attention.

 By three o'clock you headed up to your suite to eat your lunch the kitchen had prepared and rest your feet a bit. You tossed your blazer off and grabbed a fork, sitting down on the sofa to eat the avocado quinoa salad chef had made you. Barely three bites in, your phone rang. "Hey Car, what's up?"

 "I hate to bug you, but Logan said there's a problem at the pool. He said it's urgent."

 "Did he say what it was?" Dropping the salad on the coffee table you grabbed your keys and headed to the roof.

 "Nope, just that he needed someone up there right away."

 Your suite had a private staircase to the pool and you took the steps two at a time, hoping that Ovechkin wasn't throwing anyone off the rooftop pool. "I'm already on my way. Thanks, Car."

 "Keep me posted," Carly said before ending the call. You burst through the door expecting a disaster but finding the place pretty calm. There were some players in the pool and even more lounging around on the chairs. It was definitely a mixed crowd, with some Bruins, Bolts, and Capitals there, but they seemed to either not be interacting or actually being friendly with each other. Scanning the pool deck, you looked for Logan but noticed more eyes on you than anything else. You finally saw him, over by the towel bin.

 "Logan, what seems to be the problem?"

 He was visibly flustered and yet you couldn't see why. "I…I ran out…I ran…"

 "Oh for godsakes spit it out."

 "I ran out of towels." You blinked a few times thinking that with his mask on you'd not heard him correctly. That's when you realized you didn't have a mask on as you'd been eating when you ran out of the room, but really with everyone being tested daily and no one coming in and out of the bubble, you were fairly safe. Still, you took a step back just so that there would definitely be six feet between you and Logan. It was probably for his safety as well, because running out of towels was not an urgent matter and you really wanted to cuff him upside the head.

 "So call housekeeping and have them bring some up."

 "Oh yeah right." You rolled your eyes. Logan was not someone you wanted on your team in this bubble life, but you'd had no choice as your bosses told you he had to be there. Pulling out your phone, you made the call yourself down to housekeeping; who said they would be right up.

 "Ok, now that's done. Is there anything else you need?" You tried to be patient, but you could see Brad Marchand laughing at the exchange between you and your co-worker. You glared back him, hoping to silence him especially after all the chaos he'd helped cause last night, but he just cocked his head at you, as if the look you gave him meant nothing.

 "Well, I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do up here," Logan said bringing your thoughts back to work.

 "It's simple Logan, pick up the towels, put them in the bin, make sure it doesn't overflow." Like it currently was you wanted to add. "And call housekeeping if you need more." You'd thought you'd given him the easiest job at the hotel, but obviously, you'd need to rethink things if he couldn't handle this.

 "Right, right." He said shaking his head franticly. Housekeeping came up then with a huge stack of towels and you motioned for him to go get them, though he didn't register your meaning right away. Just as Logan went to turn to get them, Marchand came by, walking between the two of you. If you hadn't felt it, you would've never noticed the light push he gave you, making you stumble and lose your balance, sending you directly into the pool.

 You surfaced the water sputtering. "Well, that son of a…"

 "Are you ok?" Strong arms came around you and carried you over to the side, even though you could stand in the water.

 "Yeah, I'm…ouch!" you went to get your footing and noticed a pain shoot up from your ankle but also your shoe felt a little funny.

 "Don't try to stand on it." He moved you so that you were face to face and you finally recognized your rescuer as Jake Debrusk from the Boston Bruins. "Here wrap your legs around me and I'll take you to the side of the pool." Although you found yourself doing as he asked, you realized you weren't that far from the edge and probably could've just swum there yourself. Once you were finally there, Jake lifted you up to sit on the edge, while a few other players came around to see how you were. Well, you wanted to assume they were there to see if you were ok, but it was probably more about the fact that you were soaking wet and your silk cami was clinging to your skin, not leaving much to the imagination. Jake brought your foot up to look at it, moving your ankle in a few directions and making you wince. "I don't think it's broke, but it might be sprained." He took your high heels off and held it up. "I'm not surprised, the heel is totally broken."

 "Shit, they were one of my favorites too."

 "You should probably get some ice on it and elevate it," Jake told you, and you realized how cute he was. He had a smile that reached from ear to ear, and a voice that you could listen to for hours on end, which he probably got from his dad.

 "You're probably right. Do you think you could help me down to my room?" I mean if you were going to have to stay off your feet for a little bit; you might as well make it worth your while. The grin that was on his face got a little wider.

 "Yea…"

 "It's ok I got her." A voice from behind you said, and Jake's face fell. You could tell he was going to argue but the person continued. "You're soaking wet, she doesn't need that mess in her room." Jake simply nodded.

 "Yeah, you're right Charlie. You should take her." Well, you had a one in two shot, on who it was going to be, either McAvoy or Coyle. Craning your neck, you tried to see which is was, but the sun was bright and blinded your vision. They scooped you up before you could even think about shielding your eyes, and the next thing you knew you were face to face with Charlie Coyle. Jake was cute, there was no denying that, but he also seemed a little too innocent; whereas Charlie, well, there was something intriguing about him. You couldn't quite put your finger on it just yet.

 Charlie headed to the elevators, with you in his arms. "What floor are you on?"

 "Twenty-nine," you answered and he cocked his head realizing that you were in the penthouse suite. "One of my perks for being stuck here running this place."

 "Not such a bad perk." The doors no sooner closed than they were opening back up again and you were fishing for your key to open the room. Entering on the second floor of the two-level suite, you directed him to the bedroom. "You should probably get out of these wet clothes." You cocked your head at his suggestion. "No need to get a cold and all. People will think you've got COVID or something." He tried to add hoping to sound helpful.

 "Can't have people thinking that," you agreed. "The bathroom's that way. I could use a towel." He carried you into the bathroom, then set you down on the small stool, that you'd gotten for the vanity. He made no move to leave and you had to chuckle to yourself, as you knew exactly what was on his mind. Coyle was easy on the eyes with a soft smile. His features reminded you of Tyler for some reason, so you weren't opposed to where his thoughts were leading. You wiggled the soaking wet camisole up your body; peeling it off and throwing it in the tub. You'd worry about getting it cleaned later.

 His eyes went wide, dropping immediately to your breasts, which were only clad in a lace bra, your nipple already hard from the water and also in anticipation of things to come. "Could you help me with the skirt?" You hopped up on your good foot and twisted around so you could hold on to the counter while he unzipped the garment. You could've gotten it down easily yourself, but decided Charlie could have a little fun. He came up behind you, fingers working the zipper down, then he shimmied the wet skirt down your legs. His sharp intake of breath could be heard in the bathroom, as he took in your matching lace thong.

 Charlie let his hands glide down your thighs, all the way to your calves. Once the skirt was on the floor, his hands stole around your waist, lifting you up while his feet moved the garment to the side. "Better?"

 "Much, though still a little wet."

 He reached for a towel, and instead of handing it to you, he patted you down with it. Starting at your shoulders, he worked his way down to your breasts. "Seems futile to have this on," he said as he pulled at your bra. You simply nodded, and his hands went and unclasped your bra before he resumed his work of drying you off. You watched him in the mirror, as he moved the towel to your front, toweling off your breasts. The cloth dropped out of his left hand and his palm covered your breast. Your breath hitched in your throat, right as we tweaked the nipple. He continued drying you with his right hand as his left toyed you with your breast. "Has anyone told you today, how beautiful you are?" He breathed the compliment in your ear and it sent a shiver down your spine.

 "Not in the last few hours." You teased and he smirked at you through the mirror.

 "Well, you are." His lips were on your neck then, dropping kisses all around there and then down the back of your spine. The towel followed and he dried both of your legs, gliding his hands up your inner thighs, before sliding your thong to the side and dipping his fingers between your folds. "Mmm…This spot is pretty wet."

 "Well, I don't think…" You gasp as he hit that sweet spot inside you. "You're helping." The moan that left you echoed off the bathroom walls.

 "You like that?" you hummed out a yes and he continued to finger your pussy; the towel completely forgotten now, as it lay on the floor. "Then maybe we should get rid of this altogether." He made swift work of ridding you of your panties and now you stood completely naked in the bathroom mirror. "Should we move back to your bedroom? I mean you really shouldn't be on that ankle."

 You'd actually forgotten about the injury and now that you thought about it, your ankle didn't hurt all that much, but you weren't going to argue with moving things to a horizontal position. "Sounds like a good idea," you answered and turned as he grabbed your ass so you could wrap your legs and arms around him. His mouth came down on yours the minute he held you and he took a moment to just kiss you before making his way to the bedroom. Your hands threaded through his hair, tugging gently so he would deepen the kiss. Charlie didn't need to be told twice as his mouth devoured yours. He kissed differently than both Pasta and TK. Long sensual strokes of his tongue in your mouth; he wasn't hurried at all. When you were in the bedroom, he gently laid you down on the edge of the mattress before dropping to his knees. He propped your legs up on his shoulders, then proceeded to kiss and nibble on your inner thighs, before taking his tongue and licking between your folds. "Oh," you moaned out as he started to eat you out. His mouth worked it's magic on you, flicking across your clit, before his fingers spread you and he could thrust his tongue inside. Your hands played with your nipples and you could feel the smirk on his face as he looked up at you from his spot between your legs. His mouth left you, only for a second to be replaced by his fingers and you groaned out in pleasure.

 "Does that feel good babe?" and you hummed your approval. "I can make you feel much better." His mouth was back on you then sucking on your clit. It threw you over the edge and your hips bucked up into this mouth. Charlie's free arm pressed against your hips to hold you still as he worked you through your orgasm. His fingers slowed as you came down from your high. "You're fucking beautiful when you cum." Your body was already flush from your climax, so thankfully he didn't notice the blush that his words gave you, as he crawled up your body. He'd already shed his swim trunks but hadn't removed your juices from his lips as his mouth connected to yours.

 The kiss caught you off guard, or maybe it was just the fact that you were still on a euphoric high from your orgasm, but as soon as you recovered, you pushed at Charlie's chest for him to roll onto his back. He went easily and you kissed your way down his body as he made himself comfortable against the pillows. His cock was rock hard and pressed up against his stomach. You bypassed it at first, letting your hands lightly skate up and down his thighs before licking up the length of his dick. He sucked in a breath as his hands slid into your locks, not pressuring you to take him in your mouth, but urging you to, and so you did. Taking just the head between your lips, you swirled your tongue around. "Fuck babygirl, your mouth feels like heaven." Slowly you sank down on him, taking him deep in your throat. His hips flexed up into you slightly and you gagged a little but recovered quickly, sucking him in and out of your mouth. You hollowed out your cheeks sucking hard on him and he moaned. You let one hand toy with his balls, as you bobbed up and down on his cock. They tightened under your touch, and you knew it wouldn't take much more to make him cum. It was shortly after that, that he pulled you off him. "Can we…?" He tried to catch his breath before starting over. "Would you…?"

 "Fuck me, Charlie." You spit out as you wiped the back of your hand across your face. He grabbed you under the arms and hauled your body up to his so that you lay on top of him. You straddled your legs around his hips, his cock nestled between your pussy lips and you rocked back and forth; his dick getting coated with your wetness.

 He grabbed your hips and stopped your teasing. "Fuck (Y/N), I need inside you." Reaching down he took his cock and lined it up with your entrance, then thrust fully inside you. He wasn't huge, but you still enjoyed the familiar stretch that having a cock inside you brought. It took a few minutes while you both adjusted, but then you started to ride his cock. His one hand guided your hip, helping you set a steady rhythm, while his other played with your breasts, tweaking and pinching your nipples. You threw you head back at the combination of being filled by Charlie and what he was doing with your tits. "So, fucking beautiful." He breathed out, then flexed his hips up into you. You rode him for a bit before he flipped your positions and you were suddenly underneath him and he pumped furiously in and out of your pussy. "Gonna cum for me again babygirl." You were close as you felt your orgasm building but didn't know if you would get there in this position with him. You snuck your hand between your bodies to play with your clit. "That's so hot. Yeah baby cum for me." It wasn't long and you felt your legs start to tremble as the orgasm worked its way through your body. The wave came crashing down on you and your pussy quivered around his cock. He thrust a few more times before pushing deep inside you one last time; the muscles in his neck straining as he came inside you, calling out your name. He took a second to catch his breath, then quickly pecked your lips before rolling onto his back. "You're fucking amazing." He finally breathed out.

 "You were pretty fantastic yourself," you echoed back as you rolled on your side. "One thing though," he looked over, a look of contentment on his face. "How the hell do you know my name?" You knew him of course, that was part of your job, but you weren't wearing your credentials when you'd gone up to the pool, because you'd been in such a hurry.

 "Babe, I wouldn't forget someone as beautiful as you.' You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the comment. It was definitely unnecessary considering that you'd already fucked him. "I'm serious, I remember when you introduced yourself yesterday. I knew I had to make it a point to get to know you. Just didn't think we'd end up here so fast, not that I'm complaining."

 You were lightly tracing your nails over his chest and found yourself asking one last thing. "So is that why you totally blocked your teammate from bringing me back here, because you wanted to get to know me?"

 There was a blush that stained his cheeks. "Yes and no," he rolled on his side to face you then. "Thought it would be a good opportunity and all, but he's a kid, probably would've lost his load the minute you took off your shirt. I was doing you a favor." He said with a little wink, then kissed your lips again.

 You pulled away, though a bit reluctantly. "I should probably get back to work."

 "Yeah I get it, you're in popular demand." You gave him a little chuckle as you knew he wasn't talking about your hotel duties. "But listen, I would like to get to know you, so call me and maybe we can chat or do other things sometime while I'm here." He rolled out of bed then and retrieved his shorts, pulling them on in one swift motion. "You sure the ankle's ok?"

 "It'll be fine. I'll just wear some more comfortable shoes for the next couple of days." He leaned over the bed and kissed you one last time before heading out the door. "Talk to you soon," you said as he made his way out.

 "I sure hope so."

 Once he was gone, you called down to the front desk to let them know what had happened at the pool and that you'd be down shortly as soon as you grabbed a quick shower. You were just finished putting on some makeup and throwing your hair in a messy bun when your phone rang. It was a Facetime call from Tyler. "Hey baby," he said with a smile as his face popped up on the screen.

 "Hey Ty, how's bubble life?"

 "It fucking sucks." He was laying on his hotel bed shirtless. "I just got back from practice, but I'm bored out of my mind."

 "Aww, poor baby. I feel so bad for you just laying in that hotel room with nothing and no one to do?"

 "Right," he agreed a pout on his face.

 "You mean to tell me you haven't charmed the pants off of some hotel server yet?"

 "(Y/N), this is not your hotel. Everyone, I mean EVERYONE," he emphasized it by bringing the phone closer to his face. "Is male. Can you fucking believe that?" You couldn't help the burst of laughter that left you. "It's not that funny babe."

 "Oh I beg to differ, it's hilarious." You had a hard time catching your breath from all your laughter.

 "I wish I was in Toronto with you, baby. I miss you so much."

 "You wouldn't be missing me if someone was there to keep you company." He always said things like this. It was just part of his natural charm and being an outrageous flirt.

 "That's not true at all. I swear I tell you this all the time, yet you don't believe me." Part of you believed that he did miss you, but you thought it was only because of the amazing sex the two of you had. You'd never thought about it being anything more. "Anyhow, how're things on your end?"

 "Well I had a food fight between the Bruins and the Caps on the first night, so it's been fucking fantastic."

 It was his turn to laugh now. "Tell me that's why Pastrnak tweeted what he did about Wilson."

 "Well not exactly, but that was the end result after the two got done playing a game of pool."

 "Wait, so Wilson and Pasta were in your suite?" He frowned at the thought knowing that you'd been staying in the penthouse. "Please tell me nothing happened."

 "Nothing happened." It wasn't necessarily a lie, considering all you'd done was kiss Pastrnak and promise the same to Wilson. You decided it was best to leave out what had happened between TK and Charlie just moments ago. It had sort of been an unwritten rule between you and Tyler that you didn't speak about your sexual encounters.

 "Oh, good. Wilson's an ass. Did I tell you that when you called me the first time?"

 "Nope, you only said that he gets around."

 "Well he's an ass and you should stay away from him."

 "I'll try and remember that." Even though you knew that wasn't going to be possible. "Oh, by the way, tell your friend Marchand to fuck off next time you talk to him, as he pushed me into the pool this afternoon and ruined my favorite heels."

 The look on his face on was one of both contained laughter and indignation for what you went through. "Marchy can be an asshole at times, I'm sorry babe. I'll buy you new shoes to replace those."

 "You don't have to do that Ty." Though it was sweet of him to offer. "I'm going to plot my revenge on him though."

 "Seriously, don't get involved with him. He can be a little rat when he wants to."

 "We'll see." You told him not willing to make a promise you weren't sure you could keep.

 "Not to change the subject, but how's the bet going?"

 "You mean the one that when I win, you'll be my sex slave." He chuckled at the mention of what you would win if you succeeded.

 "Yeah, that bet."

 "It's going; plans are in place." They weren't, but they would be soon.

 "You know we should just scrap it." You couldn't quite read the look that crossed his face to see if he was serious or not.

 "Afraid you're going to lose?"

 "No, it's just…" He seemed to think about what he wanted to say. "Can't have you having all the fun."

 "Consider it payback for every time you post the bat signal Seguin."

 "You know it's not a bat signal. I've told you that before." He seemed to be sincere but you couldn't tell for sure.

 "Whatever, I've already got a plan in place." You didn't but tomorrow was another day, and you would start then for sure. "But listen, I gotta get back to work. I'll call you later and if you're lucky I'll give you a little show."

 "I'll be waiting for your call. Don't go and find someone else to play with." He teased.

 "I'll try not to," you told him and swore there was a look of concern on his face, but it was quickly replaced with a smile and a wink. "Talk to you soon, Ty." You blew him a kiss before he said goodbye and hung up the phone, wondering how you were going to win that bet with him, because there was no way, that you were going to be his sex slave for a full twenty-four hours and you knew if you agree to cancel it that's exactly what you'd be doing.

[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.

[jisunwithtaeandkookie]

Can You Keep A Secret? Pt.25

Summary: Your close friend Taehyung, shares a secret with you, a big secret: You have had a crush on Jimin for the past 6 years. But what he doesn't know is that you have done something bigger than that, something that could destroy many people's lives in seconds. That's a secret for you to keep. But something even bigger is floating in the air: what you have done could destroy BTS's friendship forever...but that's a secret even you don't know yourself.

Pairing: Reader × Jimin/Taehyung ft. Other Members

Genre: Drama/Humor

Words: ~2700

[Tuesday, October 30, 07:34 PM]

It was snowing.

Jimin stood outside my house, not caring about how cold it was getting. He just kept staring at the little box he held in his hands. He kept looking at it for a few seconds, then sighed before opening it. He smiled as he looked inside it, before he broke out into a grin.

“This will look even better on her,” he said, the shape of the diamond reflecting in his eyes.

“Hyung.” Jimin turned around at this unexpected sound, almost jumping up from the surprise. “Jungkook? What are you doing here?” He said, quietly tucking the box inside his jeans pocket.

Jungkook stood silent for a moment, frowning sharply at Jimin, making him feel a little uncomfortable. Whether it was because of his gaze, or because of what he was hiding, Jungkook didn't know, but Jimin looked sideways after a short moment, avoiding looking at him, and he knew that Jimin was nervous. Finally, when he spoke after a minute, he didn't answer the question he was asked.

“I don't get what you are trying to do, hyung.”

Jimin flinched for a quick second before composing his expression. “What am I trying to do?”

“You could've easily ensured that Tae hyung and Y/N-ah get to have a talk before she leaves for good.” Jungkook took a little step forward. “They could've talked if you wanted.”

“Me?” Jimin frowned, clearly annoyed by Jungkook's confrontation. “What did I do? Did I stop them from talking to each other?”

“Seems that way to me.”

“I am not coming in between them, Jungkook. They chose this. They brought this upon themselves. Tae-"

“Do you think you are fooling me with that crap? I can see what you are up to!” Jungkook's voice had gone up a notch; he was getting annoyed.

“Do you think I am up to something?”

“Seems that way to me.”

Jimin scoffed. “Jungkook, don't try to be oversmart with me.”

“I could say the same.”

“What do you want me to say?” Jimin yelled in hushed tones, careful that the voice didn't reach the people inside. “It was Tae who misheard, and it was Y/N who doesn't want to sort out the-"

“Wait a second.” Jungkook cut Jimin off, frowning deeply, while Jimin stood still, looking at Jungkook, silently regretting the words he had just uttered.

“Misheard?”

Jimin didn't answer; he couldn't.

All of a sudden, everything came into light. All the broken pieces seemed to connect to form a whole story, and Jungkook stood there with his eyes wide, finally understanding the whole truth. Everything made sense now, and he looked at Jimin again, with a whole new expression, and a whole new point of view than before.

“You are way too desperate with that ring, hyung.” He said calmly. “Do you think she will say yes to you if you do that?”

“The ri-what?” Jimin seemed to have a hard time concentrating on finding the right words to say.

“I saw the box, hyung. I know what you're trying to do.”

Jimin looked at him with an unreadable expression. “Jungkook, please don't get me wrong,” he stepped forward. “It's not what it looks like, I-"

“Stop right there, nope.” Jungkook shook his head, stopping Jimin from stepping forward as well as speaking. “I don't want to look at you right now.” He said, turning around to go in.

Jimin sighed, looking down, and looked up after a moment.

“Jungkook?” Jungkook stopped where he was, waiting for Jimin to speak further. Jimin took a long moment before speaking.

“Will it be so wrong?”

This was enough for Jungkook, and he turned around, running towards Jimin, his eyes blazing this time.

“HOW DARE YOU??”

[Tuesday, October 30, 09:34 AM]

“JIMIN HYUNG!!!”

“Jungkook, easy!” I tried to calm him down as he walked towards Jimin. “It was just a joke.”

“Shut up, you don't know anything!” He screamed at me, and I jumped out of his way as he stood right in front of Jimin. Jimin looked perplexed while looking at Jungkook.

“Hyung.” He said, and Jimin smiled nervously. “Kook, I-"

“Hobi hyung is not letting me get in his selfie, do something!!”

“Huh?” I and Jimin blurted out at the same time, and looked at each other for a moment before looking at Jungkook, who was making an angry face. A laugh escaped Jimin's mouth and I joined him, more relieved than laughing. “Let's just see what this is about.” Jimin said, stepping towards the kitchen door, and I looked at Jungkook, before following him outside.

Jungkook stood where he was for a moment, after we had left. He had a serious expression on his face as he looked outside the kitchen window.

“I don't know what you are trying to do, but I intend to find out.” He mumbled slowly, before exiting the kitchen.

☆☆☆

“Come on, give me a smile!!” I said, grinning widely, holding the phone in my hands, ready to click a picture. Yoongi just scoffed.

“Oh come on, Yoongi. Don't be so grumpy.” I said, jumping up and down, and he rolled his eyes. “You are way too enthusiastic.” He said in a low voice.

“Ugh, Yoongi, all I want is a selfie with you to take with me back home!!” I scowled, and pointed at Hoseok. “He was so much better than you, he didn't cause such ruckus.” Hoseok looked at me and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up.

“First of all, it's my phone you are taking the selfie with, so you are not taking it anywhere anyway. And besides, you don't need to take selfies to take with yourself, you can take my memories with you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Geez grandpa, grow up.”

“How much more do you want a grandpa to grow up?” He shrugged.

“Ugh, you're impossible.” I said, rolling my eyes, and suddenly his phone dinged from a text he had gotten. We both looked up at the screen, and a surprised look came on both our faces.

“Who is Stalker Gi-"

“Give me that!!” He snatched the phone from my hands, and ran away.

“Geez, what's up with him?” I said after a moment after composing myself from the momentary shock he had given me. No sooner than the words had left my mouth, I heard someone laughing behind me. I turned around to see Hoseok laughing. “What are you laughing at?” I frowned.

“Nothing, it's just…funny.” He said, and laughed again.

I kept frowning at him, not saying anything. He stopped laughing after a moment, and leaned towards me from where he was sitting. “Do you see Jimin?”

“Uhm..” I was dumbfounded for a moment at his complete ignorance of my question, then I looked at Jimin, hard at work on the spray paint on the door, wiping it clean. “Yeah….it's so unnecessary, I am leaving tomorrow anyway.”

“He is doing it because he cares for you.” Hoseok looked at me with a serious look in his eyes. I was confused at his sudden behavior change. “Okay...I appreciate it, and you didn't answer my question.

He smiled, looking away from me, and I could see it was rueful. “Love is crazy.”

“Huh?” I frowned, trying to understand his words. I hadn't seen him like this before. “What are you talking about, Hobi?”

He frowned for a second, looking at Jimin, then at Yoongi in the corner, and then at Jin who was cleaning out the living room table. Jin looked back at Hoseok when he found him staring at him. “Uhm, get up and do a little work, maybe?” He raised his eyebrows.

Hoseok kept looking at Jin for a moment, and then he looked down. “Yes, hyung.” He said, and suddenly looked around. “Hey!! It's 3 in the afternoon, isn't anyone hungry??”

His voice was met with a few groans and a few 'yes'es all across the room. I wondered what kind of a host I was, internally facepalming myself. “I can cook something.” I said, and stopped, looking at Jin who had just said the same words alongside me. He looked back at me sheepishly.

Hoseok looked at both of us. “I was thinking, maybe order something?”

“Oh yeah, sounds better.” Jimin shouted from across the room.

“Hey what do you mean by that?” Jin stood up abruptly, making Jimin jump a step back in fear. “Nothing special, hyung, ha ha.” He laughed nervously.

“Yeah, what do you mean by that, tiny hyung?” Jungkook poked his head out of a box of books which he was closing. Jimin made a frustrated face.

“Look at your face, oh my God!!” Jungkook burst out into a fit of laughter. Jimin scowled, looking at Jungkook who was giggling uncontrollably, and I guess he finally snapped.

It all happened in slow motion. A wet rag landed on Jungkook's laughing face, shutting him up. Everyone went silent for a moment, as we watched Jungkook. Jungkook grabbed the rag and held it away from his face. And then he screamed.

“Eww, it had paint on it!!”

The snickering was started by Jimin, and then we all joined in it. The whole room burst into laughter. Even Yoongi joined in it. Jungkook looked at every one of us with an angry expression, but what made it funny was the black paint on his face, which wasn't making his expression seem angry at all.

“Stop laughing!!” He yelled, and we started laughing more loudly.

“I said, STOP LAUGHING!!”

“Let's get you cleaned up, Kookie.” I walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll fix this up, don't worry.”

“You better,” he looked at me, pouting. I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing; he looked really funny.

“She is laughing at you, Jungkook.” Namjoon pointed out from behind. Jungkook scowled at me, while I scowled at Namjoon. Namjoon just shrugged. “Eh, just doing my job.”

“I am going to kill you, Jimin hy-" Jungkook turned towards Jimin, and stopped. “Hyung?”

Curious from Jungkook's confused voice, I turned towards Jimin, and I was confused as well. Jimin stood still, looking outside the door, not paying attention to us. I frowned: what had happened to him all of a sudden?

“Jimin? Are you listening?” I said, walking towards him, and standing behind him. “What are you looking so closely at?” I said, trying to get a look outside the door and having a hard time doing it because he covered the whole doorframe, blocking my view completely. “Jimin?” I said, and suddenly he turned around, finally coming to his senses.

“Yeah, nothing!” He jumped, and slammed the door shut in a snap.

“Wha-" I stood shocked for a second by his reflex reaction. “What's up with you?” I said after a moment, trying to compose myself, and I saw him smile nervously. “Nothing, just…the door is done.”

I frowned, looking at him. “Okay…thanks, and you didn't need to do that.”

“Uhm…you are welcome, and I needed to.” He smiled sweetly.

I was confused by his smile. A moment ago, he seemed really serious, and now he seemed completely normal. It was freaking me out: a part of me wondered if he was hiding something from me, or from everyone, and another part wondered about what he had said to me back in the kitchen.

Had he changed in these 8 months we had been apart?

Had he adapted himself to a different persona to get over what had happened?

He met my gaze, and he pouted. “Come on, Y/N, I am hungry after all that cleaning.”

“Yeah..” I nodded absently. “I will order something.”

“Help me first!!” Jungkook whined from behind, and I turned around to see him still pouting. Jin laughed. “Come on Kook, I'll help you.”

Jungkook looked back and forth at me and Jimin, and then nodded towards Jin. “Okay hyung, lead the way!”

I kept looking at Jungkook from behind as he walked towards the bathroom with Jin, thinking whether this was really him or if he was just pretending to be happy right now. His words rang in my ears in a different tune: he was not happy, or even if he was, he was not sounding like usual. My intuition was not allowing me to believe that my childhood best friend was normal right now.

Had he changed in these 8 months we had been apart?

Had he adapted himself to a different persona to get over what had happened?

Tearing myself apart from these thoughts, I looked around. Everyone was still standing where they were, waiting for someone to say something, because of the absence of topic of discussion. I realised with a start that I was hungry too.

“Let me order something for you all.” I said, taking out my phone and dialling the local shop's number. I turned backwards while doing it. “Chim, at least go sit.”

He nodded, typing on his phone.

“Okay the food should be here shortly.” I said, putting my phone back in my pocket after having ordered the food. “What should we do until then?”

“Well we are done here,” Namjoon said, looking around the living room with a sigh of relief.

“True that.” Yoongi said, snapping his fingers towards Namjoon, a smile on his face. “I like your way of thinking.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon nodded, smiling towards Yoongi. “So I was thinking, maybe we should move towards your bedroom and help you with the clothes?"

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, the smile fading off of his face. “Rest, Namjoon. The word is rest.”

He shrugged. “I mean, better get it done quick if we are at it. Who knows when the mood will change, it doesn't take much time to start procrastinating.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jin said, coming out of the bathroom. “I am not a procrastinator.”

Jungkook, who was behind Jin, snickered. “Yeah, hyung, speak for yourself.”

Namjoon looked sharply towards Jungkook. “You wanna say something?”

Jungkook put both of his hands on his freshly washed face. “No, I'm good, thanks.”

“Okay, you heard the leader, back to work!!” Hoseok yelled it like a command. “Move towards the bedroom!”

“Yay, raid Y/N's bedroom!!” Jungkook jumped up, and made a beeline towards my bedroom. Jin followed him, and then Namjoon and a reluctant Yoongi followed, along with Hoseok.

“I really wish you were a hermit, Y/N. You wouldn't have to worry about packing clothes.” He muttered as he walked towards my bedroom.

A voice came from inside the room. “Not everyone is like you, hyung!”

“Aii, shut up maknae!!”

At least something hadn't changed.

I rolled my eyes, sighing. Dorks.

“Dork.” I heard from a distance, and looked towards Jimin, who was seated on the couch, looking towards the door behind me, the phone still in his hand.

I looked behind, and then again at Jimin. “Who are you talking to?”

He looked at me. “No one.” He got up from his seat, and turned to walk towards my bedroom. “Let's go, yeah?” He said, giving me a smile.

There it was again, that smile. It was starting to bother me. He was smiling, sure, but it didn't seem like he was smiling from inside. Something seems wrong, my mind said to me, and I wanted to dismiss it, but I knew better. I had known him for a really long time.

Then there was another thing. It was okay when I did this with Jungkook, he had been my friend since we were in elementary school and I knew him better than anyone else, so I was pretty confident that I could sense a change in him correctly. But this was Jimin, and I couldn't really say anything when it came to him, could I?

I was in a dilemma, one half of me was sceptical about this, and the other half wanted me to let it all go and trust Jimin. Because even though I had known him for a relatively shorter amount of time, my mind was telling me to trust him.

And right now, I saw no reason to go against my mind.

Can You Keep A Secret? Pt.25

Part 24//Part 25//Part 26

For other parts and the MASTERLIST, please refer to the link in my bio. Thank you so much for reading!!

Any theories about the update? Tell me in the ask box. Any queries about the update? Ask me, I'll be waiting. And also, if you want to talk, DM me, and let's chat!!! Stay updated, and happy reading!!

Tag(s): @slut-for-fandoms

[sugarcookiesandsins]

Hey. So I don't meant to come off as rude or offense, but I'm really curious. I know you're a new blog and that you're friends with Kura, but I feel like you lost a lot of originality you could've had. You basically try to mirror everything she does, which I understand it's also because you admire her and want to be like her, but you can't BE her ... Like for example,,, you use "Jae talks" when it used to be "Jae speaks" lol and now you want amm asks when that's all she's been doing. (1)

This is going to be a long answer, but I feel it prudent to respond to this ask in particular because of the evidence this anon has brought against me in regards to my friendship with Kura ( @re-sugance ). She is free to make of these accusations what she will and whether or not she continues to be friends with me is up to her discretion and judgement. Each point that this anon has brought forward will be quoted and addressed. 

1. “…lost a lot of originality that you could’ve had…basically try to mirror every thing she does…”

    I feel that in no way I have lost any originality. I am very proud of my own ideas for my stories as well as the work I have put into making those ideas into reality through each chapter. Apart from Nymphet Garden, all my stories are independent works that are in no way related to Kura or her ideas for her own stories. As for trying to mirror everything she does, there is no way I could even if I wanted to. Like Kura, every writer on Tumblr is unique in their own way with their own quirks and interpretations for even the most common au’s that may exist.

    True, the mafia!au idea for Charmed was not mine, but then again everyone who writes and reads that genre knows that. What is mine, is my application of the idea to the boys. Their profiles, painstakingly constructed so readers could relate more to the story and to the OC, because isn’t that the goal of any ‘x reader’ or ‘reader-insert’ stories? For the reader to feel like they are that main character. Those are my ideas. So please, if you still believe that I am mirroring her, tell me where. 

2. “…because you admire her and want to be like her, but you can’t be her…”

     I will not deny that I admire Kura; she is an amazing writer with a wonderful gift. Nor will I deny, that I have imagined being able to write like that. All of her readers will agree with me that she had a nuance about her writing that blurs the line between reality and fantasy, making the stories more real to our minds than they should be. And because I understand the art in her works, I also understand that I will never be able to be her.

     I have my own writing style that differs from hers by a mile, but I am not disappointed in it. It is a style that I have created over these last 10+ years that I have been in creative writing. I have developed it through what I have read and through my influences in literature, and especially through my own personality that shows through my voice. I have my own merits in my writing, and if I want to rise in the ranks of the tumblr writing group, I will be doing it with assurance in my uniqueness and not the filched merits of others who have already achieved success. 

3. “…you use ‘Jae talks” when it used to be ‘Jae speaks’ …”

If you really looked through all the tags on my old account, you would have noticed that I alternated between the two, half out of forgetfulness for which I had used before and half out of indecisiveness. When I deleted my original blog, and recreated my second one, I decided on which one sounded better when said aloud. You have no idea how many times I felt like a maniac alternating between both, before I decided that talks sounds better than speaks. Even phonetically the ‘ae’ from Jae and ‘a’ talks have a similar vocal shape when I say both words, making them sound better suited than the transition from ‘ae’ to ‘ea’ if I say Jae speaks. 

4. “…now you want amm asks when that’s all she’s been doing…”

    Yes, her and many other authors. If you would like I can provide you with a list of authors that participate in the ‘ask my muse’ and ‘ask my character’ types of asks as they are very helpful. Personally, I saw them more as a way for me to be forced into thinking more about my characters and their backstories, further than what I have to come up with for the story. They also provide authors with the opportunity to get ideas about possible spin-off chapters or one-shots to create.

    As an author, you have read the story and chapter many times, the repetitiveness sometimes causing us to miss the smallest of details. These details are the wonderful little easter eggs that our readers discover and tell us about. This is why I started opening my inbox to ‘ask my muse’ and ‘ask my character’. 

5. “…you already have an advantage given you are collaborating with her and she has a follower base…”

    This is the most disgusting accusation I have heard. What ‘advantage’ do you think I am trying to gain? What you are insinuating here is that I am using Kura, someone who I personally call a friend, to help boost my own popularity on tumblr. I find this downright disgusting and a direct attack on my character and morals. Yes. I am collaborating her, but you best believe that I am putting my own share of work into this collaboration. I have in no way specially requested her to promote me on her website and the only promotion I have ever gotten from her is her tagging me in our collaboration and by reblogging a one-shot I co wrote with another writer. That to is on her recommendation blog and not her main one. I believe that if people follow me it is because they have read my works and enjoyed them. If you feel like I am using her, please ask her yourself. She is very strong individual who I believe is able to cut people out of her life who she feels are toxic. 

6. “Even your writing style has changed.”

     The beauty of being a writer is the ability to experiment with your writing style. Here I assume you mean that my writing style had changed in an attempt to match hers. Subconscious interference is not something to be taken lightly, and if you find evidence that my writing has changed to match hers, I am also sure that you will find evidence of stylistic qualities that will match Joseph Konrad and Jane Austen as well. As I have mentioned above, I am influenced by what I read. I read Kura’s works with just as much voracity as the works of greats. In light of that, I find it no issue that my writing style had changed; it is changing to improve and to learn. 

7. “….I don’t mean to come off as rude or offensive.” ; “Sorry if this comes off as mean but I’m just curious if you’ve noticed that you’re doing the those things as we do.” 

     I think that the first thing is your attempts at placating me regarding the crude accusations you have made regarding my intellectual property and my character. Do not try to justify your accusation of me using a friend to further my own aims or that I am losing my “originality”. If you are accusing me of such, I believe that you should own up to it. And the first step, is coming off of anonymous and facing me as yourself. Additionally, I wonder who this ‘we’ is that you speak of. This means that there is a group of you that share these ideas. I invite you all to come forward, and not just to me, to Kura as well. I believe she also has the right to see these accusations you are making as it involves her, does it not?

I have addressed every point you have brought forward regarding my ‘mirroring’ of Kura’s blog and writing. This will be the last time I will address such claims as they are demoralizing and with the intent of hurting me. I have confidence in my own writing and wonderful friends who have faith my me and my character; this is all I need.