#In my defense I posted this around my bedtime

[ailithnight]

So, just now realizing that when I posted this, I forgot to copy/paste the rules in so that people knew what the game was. : / Y'all, I swear I am an intelligent human being.

Anyway, fixed that now, and I am absolutely still open to getting asks. Especially since folks probably didn't know that's what this was when I posted it.

Also just gonna retag @omnicrafts and @clockwayswrites cause I imagine if you saw the first tag, ya didn't know what it was supposed to be and ignored it. So here's a retag in case y'all wanna play now that I've actually, y'know, pasted the rules of the game in.

WIP Tag Game

Took a while to get to this, but better late than never.

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

So, since until a few months ago, I was relegated to writing in the notes app on my phone, I don't actually have a WIP folder with files that have proper names. So instead y'all just get the names of the fics themselves.

A King in Arkham

Caught and Content

Technically A King in Arkham is the only active WIP. Caught and Content is more of a "I'll add to it if I think of something" kinda thing. I have no forward plans for it. But I guess if someone asks about it, I'll look back over it and see if there are details or threads I could expand on.

Also, be aware, I probably won't answer any asks very soon. I'll be trying to sleep shortly. Expect answers sometime late tonight, early tomorrow morning. My normal waking hours from working night shifts.

Now, for to tag other people. Hmm... I'm not sure if @omnicrafts and @clockwayswrites have been tagged yet.

[manikas-whims]

Dad Xavier with twins (boy and girl)

i know there's a general consensus in the fandom with the LIs all being girl dads but idk guys..For Xavier, sometimes i see him as a girl dad but other times, he seems more like a boy dad. Then i said fuck it! Xavier is now father to twins 😌 hope y'all like these HCs ♡

⭐ Dad Xavier who gets emotional and teary-eyed at the first sight of his twin babies because he always felt like a wandering soul with nothing to call his own. Yet now, he has you, and you've given him these adorable babies..all of whom he can call his family.

⭐ Dad Xavier who uses his light evol to create adorable characters when narrating a bedtime story to the twins.

⭐ Dad Xavier who tells scary stories when trying to get the kids to fall asleep at the proper time (like he did in that one Secret Times with MC 🤭)

⭐ Dad Xavier who often himself tends to fall asleep while trying to get the kids to sleep 😆

⭐ Dad Xavier who regularly takes the kids to the arcade and wins them all the plushies they ask for from the Claw Machine.

⭐ Dad Xavier who has managed to teach the kids the names of certain stars, constellations and planets as well as taught them random space facts.

⭐ Dad Xavier who is calm and collected in his tone but his blue eyes seem to glow when scolding the kids. Even you shiver at the intensity of his piercing gaze.

⭐ Dad Xavier who is a master at all the video games but loses on purpose to watch his kids giggle and jump in delight at beating their Daddy at the games.

⭐ Dad Xavier who is as fiercely protective of his babies as he is when it comes to you. Will fight the world for them and for you.

⭐ Dad Xavier who hugs the kids to sleep when they have a nightmare or just a bad day in general.

⭐ Dad Xavier who isn’t particularly fond of the kids going anywhere near weapons but knows that it's essential for his kids to have self-defense skills. And thus, when the kids are of appropriate age, you two together train the kids in proper combat and a weapon of choice (we've seen Xavier's excellent swordplay and with Mountain Journey, that he's also amazing with a gun)

⭐ Dad Xavier who joins the twins for a midnight snack and tries his best to defend them from your scolding.

⭐ Dad Xavier who watches the twins favourite movies with them late at nights during the weekends.

⭐ Dad Xavier who let's the kids mess around his piano, even teaches them a few easy tunes.

⭐ Dad Xavier who teaches the kids all sorts of ballroom dancing, from Foxtrot to the Waltz. These sessions often end with him asking your hand, and two of you ending up slow dancing at your home in the late hours of the night.

⭐ Dad Xavier whose kids accidentally come across Mommy's stash of Lumiere merch, and end up watching some old commercials and content with you two. The twins later on stare at Xavier with sparkly eyes full of admiration and ask if their Daddy is secretly a superhero 🥺 (that night Xavier almost burns your entire stash of Lumiere merch).

another post that's been collecting dust in my drafts for so damned long..i’ll probably share one for each LI at some point 🤞

» MASTERLIST «

[hypers-omniac]

Dragon!Reader came to me in a dream I’m not even kidding. Maybe it’s my subconscious telling me I need to post smth LOL.

It's been stuck in drafts for a couple days, but im posting in a self-celebration of one of my favorite creators ever following me !!

Anyways here’s wonderwall.

CW: maybe a little suggestive at the end, a tad of angst. BUT NOT MUCH I PROMISE (maybe later)

Can’t stop thinking about dragon!reader- mean and covered in scales, something the forest itself seems to fear as the leaves quiver in the trees. Huffing smoke through your nostrils like the grumpy thing you are, hunted for a reward by many who’ve failed. The waxy glare of the sunlight bouncing off the trees and onto your scales as you sunbathe- gathering the warmth you need and taking a moment to yourself.

You’re legend. A bedtime story parents tell their kin about in bedtime stories to stray them away from the forest. Your crudely drawn face posted to the walls of nearby taverns, waiting for the next fool who might take up the challenge and never return. Your claws bear blood, both metaphorical and literal, in a way that haunts you at night during private hours.

It’s your first instinct to be defensive, to be mean and harsh to all that enter your forest it’s all you’ve ever been taught, all you’ve ever known is violence and hatred for what you are. It’s not any different when a rather.. boisterous knight steps into your domain, the crackling of dead and dried leaves alerting you to his presence. You’re all bared teeth and slit eyes- smoke puffing out of your nose at the Invader, readying yourself emotionally to have to spill his blood.

But.. he never attacks. A rookie knight, certainly, with how amazed he seems. You must be the first thing he was sent out to hunt. His blue eyes follow your defensive movements and curled tail, even when you snap your teeth at him. He wears a stupid mohawk that only comes from men his age. Your growls do not deter him, but you can’t bring yourself to attack first when his weapon is not even drawn, the steel not a threat to your scales, just yet.

So you huff once more, the smoke making him cough and splutter, his eyes burning and tearing up. And then you walk away indignantly. Careful to never turn your back as you go about your daily task. Much to your chagrin, he follows you around, asking you questions you refuse to answer- “It’s rather rude to ask a lady her age, knight.”- he’s like a puppy, tail wagging as he follows you around.

Johnny, you learn his name soon enough. Because he comes back the next day, repeating the process. It’s annoying, having a fly buzzing around your ears constantly. But it’s hard to be mad at the little thing when he’s just curious- “No, Knight. I do not lay eggs.”- even if his curiosity wanders occasionally. He called you bonnie, and you can’t bring yourself to reject the title. It’s endearing.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to let your guard down around the man. With every huffing laugh he manages to squeeze from you, your eyes are always drawn back to his sheathed sword attached to his belt. A constant aching reminder of what you can never have, and exactly why. Your tail curls around yourself protectively at the thoughts, the same way it always does around him. It’s so exhausting having to worry about your safety all the time, but what can you do?

Johnny? Oh, he’s just happy to be around a Bonnie lass like you. Trying to be as charming as possible. He just wants you to use them, reader. Pin him down and take what you need until the two of you can get along. Maybe you’ll stop being so grumpy towards him if you take his frustration out on him? A man can dream.

Bloody hell, he’s not even a real knight. But they won’t let anyone into the forest unless they’re authorized. Johnny is just lucky one of his friends is a knight, letting him borrow the armor after a short ramble from the Scot about your picture- the damn drunkard having seen it at his favorite tavern. “Bonnie lass, Kyle. Gotta lemme see her, yeah? Jus’ gotta try- jus’ for a bit, jus’ so they’ll let me in?” Mans WHIPPED.

(He never even brings his sword. It’s an empty sheath and a fake handle, just so he can keep going into the forest in search for you without blowing his cover. What a guy)

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Calling all enjoyers of the OrangeJuiceVerse and teenage shenanigans!

That’s right, it’s time for another episode of Bedtime Stories With PCE, and this one is SO self indulgent like I know that’s the purpose of this series, just self indulgent orange flavored bonus content, but this one, mannnnn.

Essentially (PCE stfu about OJV Kyle’s bad knee), I was thinking about how i really didn’t let my annoying ass get into the gang as 15 year olds very much post A Fall In The Springtime. So I wanted to explore that dynamic a little more, featuring stupid fights, getting scolded by your parents, Kyle being an angry little fucker, and the way one person in a friend group getting sick means everyone’s getting the plague lmao. Set a couple days after AFITS, here’s

•Fuck It, We Ball•

Stan sighed as he approached the bus stop, Cartman and Kyle already engrossed in whatever they were arguing about now. And so it begins.

He planted himself at Kenny’s side, kicking at the slush that had refrozen with the temperature dropping again over the last few days. Damn March and its unpredictability. “Dude, how do they have the energy for this at seven in the morning?”

“Oh, you know how these two get when they’re bored,” Kenny said nonchalantly. “Probably why Ky suggested takin’ the bus today.”

That made sense. While Stan and the others had taken to making their own ways to school being sophomores, carpooling and the like for the most part, occasionally they’d all load up on the bus for nostalgia’s sake on days nobody had to stay late for extracurriculars. Kyle had been leading the charge in that the past couple weeks, bored being out of basketball and irritable while his knee healed. It honestly wasn’t surprising that he’d find excitement in the childhood routine of debating Cartman, and Cartman just liked to rile Kyle up in general, not that it was hard these days. Stan had laughed his ass off just the other day at his boyfriend’s claim that he was “drowning in ennui”. Dramatic, but warranted.

“IT WAS STUPID WHEN WE WERE NINE, AND IT’S MORE RIDICULOUS NOW!��� Stan’s attention was drawn to his boyfriend’s shrill screeching. “BEING GINGER IS NOT LIKE BEING A VAMPIRE!”

Cartman was grinning in a very self satisfied way. “You burn in the sun, you’re creepy, you suck souls…”

“YOU’RE SO GODDAMN STUPID!!!”

Kyle, directly ensnared in their friend’s trap, moved to swing at him with a crutch, but overshot and was slipping forward, slamming into the ground with a loud “FUCK!”

Stan, Kenny, and even Cartman froze, eyes wide and speechless because Kyle was already hurt; slipping on the ice like that had no doubt made it worse. Kyle curled into the fetal position, clutching his bad knee and cursing up a storm. Stan ran to him in an instant.

“Dude, shit, okay, okay. Fuck, did you hit it?”

“What the HELL do you think,” Kyle hissed, writhing a little in the snow. He’d only recently been able to bend his knee semi-normally again, only with support, and here he was holding it to his chest in a way that definitely couldn’t be comfortable.

“S-Stan, I… GOD, FUCK YOU CARTMAN!!!”

That back and forth was always a good indicator of Kyle’s level of aggravation. He was extremely quick when he was upset enough. Less aggressive on his own, Stan jumped to his partner’s defense without hesitation.

“Why the shit would you work him up like that, huh?!?” Stan demanded, taking their obnoxious friend by the collar of his coat. He gave him a shake, not enough to actually hurt, but Cartman still whined like a pitiful little creature. “He can’t fight anyone yet! He can’t even stand!”

Kyle dragged himself a little down the ice. “I can buttfucking stand! Dramaticfuckass-“

He crumpled under the weight of his own body. Stan caught his neck before his head could whack the ice. “Dude!”

“I’m going to obliterate you,” Kyle warned.

Stan wanted to roll his eyes, but didn’t dare. Instead, he gently scooped Kyle into his arms, relieved when he felt wiry arms latch instinctually around his neck. He turned to the other two as he rose. “Grab his shit.”

Thankfully, Kyle’s house was the closest to the bus stop, and under the rapid pounding of his own heart, Stan could hear Kyle’s pissed off mumbling and sporadic whimpers of pain.

“I’m trying to be careful, dude,” he promised. “I know it’s still hurting.”

“Yeah, because some FAT ASSHOLE made me FALL!” Kyle seethed in Cartman’s direction.

“Ay! You’re the one who was trying to hit me, JewBot!”

Stan spun around to shoot Cartman a glare. “You started it and you know it, fuckknob. Give the backpack to Kenny and fuck off to school if you’re gonna keep causing problems.”

Cartman snorted. “I would, but Kahl’s bitch mom is going to pitch a fit and I happen to find that shit funny, obviously.”

“DON’T CALL MY MOM A BITCH!”

Ohhhh boy. It was definitely too early for all this. Kenny bounded up to the porch, using Kyle’s crutches to knock on the front door. “Guys, tone it down,” he advised before turning the knob. Nobody really locked their doors around here, and they all knew it.

“Yo, Mrs B!” Kenny announced their presence as the boys filed into the foyer.

Only Kyle’s mom would be home around this time, Stan knew. Ike usually rode to his early college high school program with their dad, since it was closer to Gerald’s firm. Sheila tended to fill her days with community meetings and clubs and volunteer work, but she usually stuck around the house until the rest of the family was safely at school and work, ruling the group chat with an iron fist. A veritable lioness when it came to her boys, that one.

Which was why her alarmed gasp upon seeing her eldest son glowering in Stan’s arms wasn’t surprising in the slightest.

“Kyle! Boys! What on earth happened?!”

“He slipped on the ice,” Stan explained, gingerly easing him down onto the couch. “Bashed his knee pretty good.”

Sheila let out a “WHAT?!?”, and Kyle groaned, clearly already done with his mother. “Ma, please don’t freak out. I just need to put it up a few hours or whatever, it’s fine.”

She planted her hands on her hips and stared each of the boys down like only a mother could. Cartman actually cowered a little, avoiding eye contact.

“And just how did you fall, huh, bubbeh?” She demanded of her son. “I thought I told you to be careful.”

Stan hated having to do damage control, but Sheila trusted him, so he was probably the best bet at the guys avoiding too much trouble. “He and Cartman were just arguing. You know how carried away they can get.”

“Don’t look at me, Mrs Broflovski,” Cartman said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Kahl tried to whack me! It’s not my fault his little bird bones gave out.”

“SHUT UP CARTMAN!”

“Kyle!” Sheila scolded. “Inside voices! And how many times do I have to tell you boys not to roughhouse when it’s slippery outside?”

All four of them mumbled varying apologies, even though he and Kenny hadn’t been involved. Kyle’s mom kept raving.

“And here I was about to head out the door! Oy, I’ll have to tell the book club ladies I won’t make it to brunch, and goodness! The PTA meeting will need to be rescheduled, and I suppose I’ll have to put out a grocery order for delivery and miss the deals I’d get going myself-“

��Ma,” Kyle interrupted, even more overwhelmed than he had been. “You don’t need to change your plans or anything. I know you have a full day.”

“You can’t just stay home alone! What if you’ve hurt your knee worse?!”

Stan could tell his boyfriend wanted to roll his eyes. “It really isn’t a big deal, okay? And I’m not alone. The guys can help me if I need anything.”

Kenny had already taken to removing Kyle’s hat for him and hanging it on the hook by the door. “Yeah, we got ‘im, scout’s honor.”

“The hippie would probably stay anyway,” Cartman pointed out. He had migrated to the kitchen and was rifling through the freezer, hopefully for an ice pack and not to raid the snacks.

Well, as much as Cartman was a dick, he wasn’t wrong. Stan had no intention of leaving Kyle’s side.

Kyle’s mom pursed her lips and checked her watch. Stan could practically see her internal conflict: would she deviate from her carefully curated schedule to stay home and smother her son, or would she let four teenage boys skip school and hang out in her living room? He turned on his best “charming and trustworthy” face; he usually had good luck with adults.

Sheila sighed, and Stan felt disproportionately victorious. The woman was even more expressive than Kyle was. Clearly, the gang was about to get a day off class with no grown up supervision. Yes!

“Fine,” she relented. “But only because I’m already running late. I’ll see if I can get all four of you an excused absence.”

That definitely wasn’t going to be an issue. Principal Charles would just love the idea of them practicing “wholesome male friendship and emotional support” and all that. If that wasn’t the conclusion the principal came to on his own, Cartman was a master manipulator and could talk himself, and the rest of them by extension, out of trouble.

Sheila grabbed her purse and bent down to kiss her son’s forehead, leaving a lipstick mark. “You’re a little warm, Kyle, do you feel-“

“Ma, I was wearing a hat,” Kyle groaned. “Please give the worrying a rest.”

“Fine, fine,” she clucked, shaking her head. “You boys just behave, do you hear me? And Stanley, you call me if I need to come home.”

“Yes ma’am.”

When the door shut behind her, Kyle groaned yet again, dramatically throwing his arms over his eyes. “I swear to God, she’s gonna be fussing over me like I’m a kid until the end of time.”

“Totally weak,” Cartman agreed.

“She just gets concerned about you,” Kenny reminded him. “I mean, it’s not like she doesn’t have a reason.”

Stan almost expected Kyle to fly into a rage at that, but he just sighed. “Can’t wait to be done with the goddamn crutches so she can chill the fuck out.”

Yeah, Sheila Broflovski ever chilling the fuck out was probably about as likely as Randy sobering up. Not gonna happen. And Kyle had gotten more than just the hair, nose, and height from his mother; he’d also gotten her temper, so Stan chose to let him believe she’d let up once he could walk.

“Ha! That’ll be the day,” Cartman laughed as he turned away from the freezer, ice pack in one hand and a popsicle in the other.

Stan caught the pack easily when it was tossed his way, ignoring their resident troublemaker in favor of getting his super best boyfriend’s leg elevated better. “This okay, baby?”

“Yeah, it-“ Kyle cut off with a wince. “Doesn’t hurt as bad as it did at first.”

“Still hurts, though?”

“I mean, it never really stopped hurting,” Kyle said with a shrug. “Not all the way.”

Stan had done his research after his partner first messed up his leg. What the basketball coach guessed was a sprain turned out to be a hyperextended knee and partial meniscus tear, straining the outside ligament and everything. Not an injury that required surgery, since Kyle was young and relatively healthy, but he wasn’t supposed to put any weight on it at all for a full month, was supposed to be taking anti inflammatories and painkillers. Kyle tried to downplay it, sick of being out of commission, but Stan maintained that it caused him more trouble than he admitted.

Kenny hopped up from where he’d been perched on the arm of the couch. “Where’s your drugs? I gotcha.”

“I don’t need-“

“Nightstand,” Stan interrupted. Kyle wasn’t about to weasel his way out of medication. Kenny bounded up the stairs as Kyle angrily unzipped his coat and threw it in the general direction of the jacket hooks.

“Dude, I don’t want the fucking painkillers.”

Cartman snorted from his position on the floor, where he’d claimed control of the remote and was looking for trashy reality tv. “You’ve been on crutches for weeks and you still can’t walk, you dumb bitch. Take the goddamn pills if you hurt. That’s like, common sense.”

“You wouldn’t know common sense if it bit you in the fat ass.”

As much as Stan hated to agree with Cartman, he did have a point. “Kyle, please don’t be difficult about this. We’re just trying to help.”

Kyle scowled and crossed his arms. “You can help by getting off my case. I swear, you guys are as bad as my mother.”

“No can do, firefox,” Kenny re entered the living room, holding the orange vial of painkillers aloft. “Consider us on your case like white on rice. This bottle should not still be this full.”

“Let me see that.” Stan confirmed that it was pretty obvious that Kyle had been slacking on the meds. “Dude, c’mon. Have you not been taking these?”

“I took them “as directed” or whatever the first week,” Kyle protested. “I don’t like how they make me all foggy and tired!”

Stan fought the urge to groan. “Baby, you’re literally in pain. Your leg’s gonna hurt if you don’t treat the symptoms.” He didn’t add that the fact that Kyle had been hurting and doing nothing about it had definitely played in to his irritability. He knelt down and took Kyle’s hand. “Will you just take one? For me? Your pain is my pain.”

Cartman mimed throwing up. “Jesus Christ, you fucking simp! What is this, a shitty fanfiction?!”

“SHUT UP, CARTMAN,” Kyle snapped. Then his eyes met Stan’s, and his anger dissipated some. “Damnit, Staniel. Don’t give me the face! You look like a sad puppy and- ugh, fucking fine, but if anyone draws dicks on my face while I’m taking a damn high ass nap, I’m kicking the ass of everyone in this room.”

A threat not to be taken lightly, even with Kyle’s current physical limitations. Small, injured, about to nod off from the pill he’d swallowed while he was talking, but vicious.

“No dicks, promise,” Kenny said with a hand over his heart.

“Yeah, we all know the only dick you want on your face is Stan’s-“ Cartman was cut off by a throw pillow flung in his direction. “Fine! Geez, I won’t fuck with you.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Stan offered.

Cartman rolled his eyes and went back to flipping through daytime television. “I hate your gay ass, I’m so seriously.”

———

There was only so much Real Housewives the boys could take before it got old. And Stan really didn’t give a shit what the Kardashians were up to. Even Cartman had gotten restless after a few hours, corralling Kenny out the back door to throw chunks of ice against the fence.

Kyle was still sleeping through all of it, though his sleep looked far from peaceful. Kyle didn’t usually sleep well in general, and lying in an uncomfortable position on the couch with his face tight even in sleep, he looked to be struggling. Nightmares, probably, made even weirder than normal by the drugs making him sleep harder than he usually did.

Stan didn’t have the heart to wake him up, instead just in his lookout post on the floor next to the couch. He switched the channel to National Geographic and turned the sound off, letting his head fall back next to his boyfriend’s.

He couldn’t have been asleep long, before being jolted awake by a thump and a muttered “god damnit”.

Adjusting to the dim light of the living room, Stan landed on Kyle, who had apparently walked into the doorframe in his post nap confusion. He was immediately up and darting his way.

“Dude, you’re supposed to be using your crutches! Where’re you going?”

Kyle grumbled and rubbed at his leg. “I’m running the Boston Marathon, what does it look like? I’m on a piss quest, Stanathan.”

Stan swung an arm around him for support, helping him hobble down the hall. “For fucks sake, Ky, you’re gonna hurt yourself walking around like this.”

“Didn’t think about it,” Kyle argued. “I told you the pills make me all groggy.”

They stopped at the bathroom. “Can you make it?”

Kyle hopped through and shut the door. “I’m not helpless.”

Stan leaned against the wall, trying not to laugh at the frustrated look he’d flashed. “You have a good nap, at least?”

“Had a dream I was in a wheat field.”

“A wheat field?”

“Yeah.” He heard the toilet flush and the faucet start up. “We were trying to invade a kingdom of giants with a marching band. And then I was in my car and all the tires exploded. Pedro Pascal was there.”

Steadying his boyfriend on his way back into the hall, Stan chuckled. “The Mandolorian slashed your tires?”

“Apparently.”

Heat was radiating from Kyle like a furnace. Not that he didn’t usually run warm, especially when he slept, but even Sheila had noticed earlier. Stan helped him down onto the couch and rested the back of his hand on Kyle’s face, checking for fever.

“Dude, do you feel okay? You look kinda pale, and you’re hot.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Jesus, not you too. I’m fine. I can’t be sick on top of everything else, you just worry too much.”

That wasn’t how it worked, but okay. Kenny and Cartman came barging in the kitchen door, shaking ice from their shoes in a haphazard way that a certain matriarch wouldn’t appreciate.

“I need some fucking hot chocolate!” Cartman declared, Kenny letting out a muffled agreement through his scarf before unwinding it.

“Guys,” Stan started, “have you been sick at all the past week? Like, fever, dizziness, anything?”

Kenny shrugged. “I had the sniffles a couple days ago, that’s it.”

“I don’t get sick,” Cartman insisted. “My immune system is superior. Oh, lame, you guys! Is Kahl infected with some disease now too? I mean, more than just his default.”

Kyle moaned dramatically. “Please cut it out. I’m tired, assholes.”

Stan ignored him, at least until he had a chance to check for certain. “Ken, will you get the thermometer? Under the kitchen sink. I think I might’ve given you guys that cold I had over the weekend.”

“You got over that in like, two days,” Kyle pointed out.

“That was me. This is you. And if you’ll recall, I almost cracked my head open in your bedroom,” Stan reminded him.

“Because you’re a dick who tried to ignore it.”

“And what are you doing right now?”

Kyle opened his mouth to make some remark, and Kenny took the opportunity to shove the thermometer under his tongue. Kyle glared but didn’t yank it out, probably hoping to prove them all wrong.

“Ha!” Cartman was at least a little amused reading the screen. “Of course you’re sick. What, can’t handle a little seasonal bug like the rest of us?”

Moving to lunge off the couch, Kyle swung, not missing this time, but falling to the floor nonetheless. Cartman wailed like he’d just been stabbed.

“Did- did you guys see that?! Kahl totally got me in the eye! Oh, god, I’m blind! I’m suing your crippled ass!”

“Knock it off, Fatboy, you’re fine,” Kenny said tiredly. “Kyley, I think we should get you up to bed and call your mom.”

Stan was inclined to agree, not just because Kyle was definitely running a temperature now, but also because he’d just fallen for the second time in the span of a few hours, and there was no way even Kyle could deny how much that had to hurt. He scooted the coffee table out of the way to help him up.

“Okay, use the good side, I’ve got you.”

Kyle had gotten pretty graceful at using the pistol squat method to get up without putting weight on his bad knee over the past few weeks. He’d always been deceptively strong, even like now when he was sick and drawn, and Stan was just kind of there just in case he faltered.

“Don’t call my mom,” he pleaded. “It’s just a little fever. I can probably sleep it off.”

Well, considering his ridiculous stubbornness, Kyle could probably argue that illness going around right out of his body. “You can try, dude, but Sheila’s gonna be pissed I didn’t tell her.”

“I’ll handle it,” Kyle mumbled, accepting his crutches and letting Kenny and Stan accompany him to the stairs. “Will you guys stay?”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Even Cartman?”

“Pshh, like I wanna stick around for the jew to get pissed off and try to kill me again.”

The guys knew Cartman well enough to know that was just his way of saying he didn’t want to be the reason Kyle got carried away and hurt himself, but they didn’t point that out.

“Then fuck off, fatass. Go manipulate the FBI or whatever you get up to,” Kyle said with another eyeroll.

Cartman snorted. “Eh, it’s still pretty early. Maybe I’ll start a cult or something.” He grinned mischievously. “See you assholes.”

Kenny flipped on the hall light. “I wonder what it is that he actually does in his spare time.”

“Something stupid or illegal.” Kyle groaned as he was helped into bed. “Or both.”

That sounded about right. Stan settled under the blankets next to him, Kenny having procured the cold meds still in the drawer from Stan having been sick. Stan read the pack carefully before handing Kyle a few capsules. “Here, dude. It’s the daytime shit. No acetaminophen or any of the crap that’ll fuck with your other drugs.”

“Thanks.”

Kyles massive “Ass Pro Shops” tumbler, a Kenny McCormick creation that was forever stationed on Kyle’s nightstand with its blue silicone straw, washed down the medicine before Kyle lied back with a sigh. He was clearly still in pain, and now feverish to top it off. “Have I mentioned yet that I’m really fucking annoyed?”

Kenny snorted, casually shooting the mini basketball into the hoop mounted on the closet door. “Darlin’, you’ve made that pretty clear.”

Stan wrapped him up in his arms, carefully, like his boyfriend might attack like a wounded animal. And here we see an injured fox, in his burrow, directly after fighting off the raccoon. He has allowed the continued company of the bear and the opossum, who continue to aid in his recovery. The rabbit often accompanies this ragtag group, though she would likely be unwilling to leave school, fearing both the agitated fox’s anger and a potential to be grounded.

Laughing at his mental nature documentary comparison was probably not in his best interest, lest Kyle assume he was being made fun of, so Stan just kissed his boyfriend’s flushed cheek. “You gonna be able to fall asleep again?”

Kyle snuggled closer. “Mm, if you keep holding me like this.”

Stan knew both he and Kenny would have to leave his side eventually. Kenny had basketball practice and Stan had off season football conditioning. He could get out of classes today, sure, but coach wasn’t about to ease up on him, not with Stan set to play first string in the fall. If South Park had one thing (other than cattle) to be proud of, it was high school sports.

Still, he’d savor this moment, getting to take care of him with Kenny for backup, and he’d probably cave and stay if Kyle asked.

———

The alarm clock on the nightstand flashed that it was almost three when Sheila poked her head in to whisper (or her version of it, at least), “boys!”

Uncharacteristically, Stan was the first to wake, followed by Kenny, who had curled up at the foot of the bed like a pet, while Kyle only moaned and rolled over.

“Yes ma’am?” Stan mumbled, rubbing his eyes and disoriented from their nap.

The matriarch planted her hands on her hips, one auburn brow arched in concern. “Is everything alright? Eric already left?”

“Mhm. A while ago. He went because he was making Ky mad again and they were trying to fight and we all didn’t want him to hurt himself more. It was Cartman’s decision.” Stan didn’t know why he was defending the dickhole who liked to mess with his favorite person. Maybe because Cartman had recently shown a few redeeming qualities, plus Stan felt bad in general about giving the guys his cold. “Kyle, he didn’t want us to call you, but he’s running a bit of a fever. Or, he was a few hours ago. We got some medicine in him, so hopefully it’s down.”

“WHAT WHAT WHAT?!”

Kyle sat up quickly, squeaking a little in his confusion. “Ma, what’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”

She rushed over, immediately all over her son. “Oh, I knew it! I knew you were warm this morning! Call it a motha’s intuition, but I knew you’d caught what’s going around that school of yours!”

“He’s okay, Mrs. B,” Kenny cut in. “Stanny and I both got over it quick, and Cartman definitely had it but didn’t even complain, and you know how he is.”

Sheila sighed, hands still on the face of an absolutely peeved Kyle. “Oh, I suppose. I just, I worry! About all of you! And my poor baby is already hurt, I can’t imagine how miserable it must be-“

“Ma, please. I’m okay. Just let me go back to sleep.”

Turning to the other two, who had gotten up and were standing attentively like seven year olds in trouble, she offered a motherly smile. “Why don’t the two of you go down and make yourselves a snack?” She suggested. “You have to leave for your sports soon, right? Can’t go on an empty stomach!”

Kenny opened his mouth to protest, but Stan knew how Sheila’s mind operated. She wasn’t going to take no for an answer, especially while she had already blustered into full caretaking mode at the mention of her child under the weather. She’d do that for all five of them, yeah, but as much as Kyle would kick his ass if he said it, Kyle had always been more prone to physical problems than the rest.

“Will do. Ken, sandwiches real quick and we head to the school?”

“Works for me, brother. Thank you, Mrs B.”

Sheila smiled tensely, trying to force feed Kyle the lukewarm water at his bedside. Stan reached around her to squeeze his hand. “Okay, dude?”

“I’m okay. Little plague and a fucked up leg can’t take me out.”

“Kyle, language!”

Stan had to laugh. “We left the thermometer downstairs,” he offered. “If you want to check again. We’ll be outa here in a sec.” He kissed the back of Kyle’s hand, noticing how glassy his eyes were, all the brighter in their fever flush. “Can I come check on you after?” He was asking both Kyle and his mother.

They answered in unison, which made Kenny laugh. “Aight, loverboy, let’s feed us so we don’t die during suicides.”

The irony wasn’t lost on either of them when they made it down the stairs into the kitchen. “Dude, I really hate the idea of leaving him alone.”

Kenny retrieved sandwich supplies eagerly from the fridge and cabinets. They all knew where everything was kept in each other’s houses.

“He’s not alone. Got his mama, and you know she’s leaping at the chance. Where do ya think Ky gets it?”

True. Both Kyle and Sheila shared that overbearing motherly quality. They thrived on caring for people.

Problem was, Kyle was a godawful patient, and Stan liked to coddle him in spite of the protests.

“Make me a pb&j, will you?” He asked Kenny. “I’m gonna heat up some soup for Ky. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast, if he did have that.”

“He’s gonna get annoyed,” Kenny pointed out.

That was true, but still. “Dude, my boyfriend is hurt, sick, stubborn as fuck, and diabetic. I’m not letting his levels get messed up.”

Kenny laughed. “Just marry him already. You’d make a great overprotective husband.”

“Sick, man, we’re kids!”

“That has nothing to do with what I just said. I’m talkin’ future shit.”

Stan dumped a can of chicken noodle into the pot he’s grabbed. “You deadass said “already”. We’re sixteen and fifteen.”

“You’re still gonna be a good husband one day.” Kenny was building sandwiches, didn’t look up. “We call him a mom, but you’re absolutely the type of dad to be waiting on the porch with a shotgun if your daughter brings home a date. Not that your pacifistic ass would use it.”

That was true, guns were not his favorite. “Ken, knock it off.” He checked on the time. “Hey, drink some water. We should head out as soon as we eat.”

Canned soup was easy and quick enough to heat up, and Stan had it poured into a bowl with a few crackers on the side by the time Kenny had gotten sandwiches and drinks set up on the bar. “Gonna take this up to Ky, be right back.”

“Leaning into that knight in shining armor complex pretty hard today, huh?”

Stan flipped him off over his shoulder.

In Kyle’s room, Shiela was humming at a low volume, fussing with the covers and the washcloth she’d laid on his forehead. Kyle saw him first.

“Dudeeee,” he complained. “Tell Ma I’m okay and she doesn’t need to smother me.”

Laughing and setting the soup on the table, Stan leaned over to run his fingers through Kyle’s hair. “Sorry, but I’m on her side, dude.” He gave Sheila a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, I just, he was already getting pretty good rest and I didn’t want to rile him up-“

“Oh, believe me,” she said pointedly. “I know he’d have only worked himself up.”

“I’m right here!”

“See what I mean?” Sheila put on her all business face. “Bubbeh, Stanley and Kenny have to leave soon for practice.”

Kyle looked positively betrayed. “Dude, you’re actually leaving me?”

“You need more rest, baby. I can maybe come back and visit after conditioning?” Yeah, right. More than likely, his mom would veto any more company until Kyle was over the fever. “You need to eat and keep taking it easy.”

“Yes, sir,” Kyle grumbled sarcastically.

Stan suppressed another laugh and kissed the back of his hand again before turning to Sheila. “We’ll be out the door in a few minutes. I’ll ask before coming after.”

She nodded. “I think that would be best. Thank you for helping out today, Stan.”

“Definitely, dude.” Then he froze. He called his own mother dude, but he had never called Kyle’s mom that. Thankfully, she smiled fondly.

“You boys just put your dishes in the sink when you’re done. Have a good practice.”

Stan grinned and kissed Kyle again before heading back down. Kenny was halfway through his sandwich when he plopped down and snorted.

“Man, I totally just called Ky’s mother “dude”,” he commented.

Kenny giggled. “Only you, brother. Gotta tell ya, I think this basketball team thing? This is probably a one time deal.”

“You’re not planning to play next year?”

“It’s just, well, it was only fun with Kyle, and he’s out for a hot minute. Plus I could be spending my free time workin’. Lot to think about, ya know? And it’s not like you and football. I just wanted to try it out.”

Stan understood. He’d cycled through plenty of hobbies himself. “Why not just go ahead and quit?”

Kenny shook his head. “Season’s almost over, anyway. Gotta finish it out. So, for now…” he saluted with his sandwich. “Fuck it. We ball.”

[typingatlightspeed]

Some heavy and scout coddling medic please?

TF2 Fanfic - Weary

Medic's utterly bushed after a week of hard pushes and losses, and finally capturing a win at the cost of the last of his energy. He returns to his quarters from cleaning up completely drained, only to find his lovers waiting to dote on him.

Ao3 Link!

It's all fluff, bay-bee! Enjoy! :D

---------

"Ach, my body," Medic groused, slipping through the door to his quarters and shutting it quietly behind him, sagging. He leaned his forehead against the door, unwilling to move just yet, finding it difficult to will himself the last gasp of energy to turn and flop onto his bed.

He was exhausted beyond compare, fatigued past synonym, tired down to the marrow and barely holding himself upright. A long week of difficult pushes had seen loss after loss after loss, unable to breach RED's defenses to deliver the payload. Today, the team had rallied, hammering at the defensive line until they finally prevailed, but it had taxed Medic to his limits, calling pushes and directing his teammates as he built charges and dove out of the line of fire from every angle.

Once the adrenaline had worn off as he showered away the grime and sweat and blood, Medic had found himself growing progressively more boneless as he sluggishly schlepped his way back to the dormitory hall, and his quarters thereby. Whoops and hollers from his teammates as they partook in post-victory celebrations and afternoon rituals faded past his closed door, leaving him in the relative quiet of his own space, able to finally just stop for what felt like the first time in days.

When he finally mustered the herculean amount of energy required to merely turn on his heel to face his room, Medic's eyes snapped open in sleepy surprise. "Was?"

Heavy and Scout reclined on his bed, half-covered by his sheets, shirtless. He was sure neither man was wearing a stitch of clothing, but honestly he couldn't bring himself to get excited about it. His weariness drove away any lurid thoughts.

"'Bout time you got here," Scout teased, stretching languidly to show off his body to his oldest lover. "Bed's awful cold without ya, Doc."

"But we help make it warm for you," Heavy assured him with a warm smile, scooting onto his side and patting the space between them.

"My men," Medic hummed softly, a smile crossing his lips. "I'm too tired for any fun, I fear," he cautioned, tossing his gloves onto his desk and unbuttoning his coat.

"This is fine," Heavy dismissed with a wave. "Want to hold you, give you nice cuddle after big win. You did well, Doktor. Work hard all week. You deserve reward."

"A reward?" Medic asked, smirking a little.

Heavy merely rubbed his furry chest in reply, smiling knowingly.

Medic shed his coat and tie and set to his waistcoat and shirt, chuckling. He couldn't resist Heavy's fluff, to be sure. "You spoil me."

Scout hopped to his feet as he noticed Medic fumbling with his buttons, wobbly with exhaustion. "Here, Doc. Lemme," he offered, making quick work of the man's too-many buttons and helping him strip. Layers fell to the floor to be dealt with later, Medic laughing as Scout lifted his arms to illustrate what he wanted him to do, pulling his undershirt free once the doctor complied. "I feel like a child being undressed for bath time," he chuckled, his arms falling to his sides.

"Well you already got cleaned up, so I guess it's time to wrestle you into some footie pajamas and read you a bedtime story," Scout teased, unbuckling Medic's belt and opening his fly, shimmying his trousers and underwear down together until they bunched around his thighs. He gestured for Medic to sit, and the doctor complied, perching on the side of the bed and watching with a smile as Scout carefully pulled his boots off and set them aside.

"I don't think even Pyro has a set of footie pajamas big enough for me," Medic laughed.

"Yeah, that's true. I guess you gotta sleep naked, then." Scout grinned and tugged Medic's clothes the rest of the way off, his socks ending up in the bundle of trousers and underwear that now sat in a pile on the floor with his shirts and waistcoat.

"Do I still get a bedtime story?"

"You really want me to tell you a big long story right now?" Scout threatened knowingly, ushering Medic to lie down and drawing the covers gently up over him.

"Only if you don't mind if I fall asleep during it."

Scout smirked, climbing into bed after him. "See now that's why I ain't gonna bother. Don't want you to miss any good parts."

Heavy wrapped an arm around Medic and tugged him close, letting him bury his nose into the fluffy hair at the middle of his chest with a contented sigh. One arm limply flopped over the giant, fingers lazily petting at the hair on his back.

Behind Medic, Scout slotted in, tangling his legs with the taller man's as he hugged him close and pressed soft kisses to the nape of his neck. "Just let it all melt away," he murmured, wrapping his arm around Medic and cuddled up close. "We got the day off tomorrow, and you got a nice long night's sleep between us before that. Nothin' to do but relax an' enjoy it."

Medic hummed out a soft sound of comfort, nuzzling Heavy's chest as he felt the tension drain from his body. Heavy's massive hand cupped his hip, surrounding him in the warmth of his lovers and blanket tucked up around his shoulders. Softly, he yawned. "Mm, I love you both," he murmured drowsily, sleep already tugging at him.

"We love you too," Scout soothed, giving him a squeeze.

"Good night, Doktor," Heavy whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of Medic's head, snickering softly as a quiet snore answered him.

"Damn, that was fast," Scout chuckled.

[rallamajoop]

The RE8 Timeline: Mia and Miranda

As mentioned in my post on Donna Beneviento, the other RE8 timeline question that’s been eating at me is just how long Miranda has been posing as Mia before Chris busts in on her.

It’s fascinating how many obscure clues you can find about the days leading up to the start of the game – and if that doesn’t grab you, I’ve also got some lovely fridge-horror-logic to share about why a bunch of jars of baby food and a note about Rose’s recent half-birthday may be some of the most subtly sinister details in the game.

To reiterate again up front, I really doubt there are any definitive, ‘canonical’ answers here. The whole game is a campy, fairy-tale fever dream, and if anyone had a clear timeline in mind, lord knows if the rest of the team were on the same page. Details from in-game documents may contradict cutscene dialogue, may contradict environmental clues, etc. But analysing all those clues still turns up some interesting details, so here we go.

To begin with, in the game’s opening scenes, we learn several significant things about “Mia”:

She’s ‘gone local’ (using local recipes, reading a ‘local fairy tale’ to Rose, etc)

She doesn’t want to talk about what happened in Louisianna (RE7)

She makes most of Rose’s food by hand

She and Ethan have been fighting

Something is very wrong with her

That last point is mostly a vibe, but it is strong. The idea that creepy ‘local’ tale is suitable bedtime reading is suspicious, and her tone of voice when she insists ‘there’s nothing wrong with my memory!’ is bizarrely defensive. Something is off.

All of this makes perfect sense in retrospect, knowing this is Miranda-posing-as-Mia. She’s doesn’t want to talk about the past, because what she "doesn’t remember" could give her away. She’s "gone local" because she is local. She makes baby-food by hand because she’s an overbearing mother from the early 1900s. And she and Ethan have been fighting because she’s a stranger masquerading as his wife.

Now, some of these things may be true of the real Mia as well, if to a lesser degree – there was already tension between Ethan and Mia, the Baker Incident Report talks about Mia learning local recipes, etc. And that does makes sense, if Ethan didn’t immediately notice the change – but we’ll come back to that stuff later.

Mostly what I want to point to is one detail you can find in the house that seems innocent out of context, but was a big oh shit moment for me with all that weirdness leading up.

Oh fuck, what has not!Mia been feeding Rose???

This is also the detail that convinced me ‘Mia’ hasn’t been Mia for some time. Because if Mia’s been making all the baby food for Rose since she started solids (presumably in the last couple of months), why would they be buying these jars at all? Which suggests it’s a recent change to her behaviour, that Ethan hasn’t quite adjusted to yet when he goes out for groceries ‒ we're probably talking at least a couple of weeks, maybe longer. And given that Mia isn't Mia anymore, every recent change to her behaviour becomes pretty suspect. (I mean, you can totally come up with other explanations where it’s some kind of nervous-new-parents-over-buying thing, or a ‘just in case Mia needs a break’-emergency supply that never actually gets used, but c’mon, this is horror: lemme have the freaky version!)

After all, we just heard a dark fairy tale in which a demonic bat and a monster fish ‘helpfully’ feed a little girl parts of their own bodies. Feeding people gross, corrupted food was a major horror element of the Baker family from RE7 too. Heck, there’s even arguably other canonical suggestions that ‘local food’ sourced around the village can enhance the powers of a mould-infected individual, given how food the Duke can make for Ethan boosts his stats (which is definitely me thinking too hard about a shallow game-mechanic, but shut up, this all works on so many levels!)

The opening also features one scene with real!Mia: the flashback/dream sequence Ethan experiences before waking up next to the crashed van. We know this is the real Mia, because she’s anxious about Rose and Ethan in a way that makes no sense for Miranda – in particular about something Ethan won’t face about himself (Ethan accuses her of keeping things from him, tells her they should talk about it, then blows off the conversation for a call from work).

It’s not clear how long ago this was – or even that it’s necessarily a real memory. It could just be a dream Ethan’s having, mixing up multiple different memories and some of his own anxieties (most of what happens in Donna’s basement could be taken the same way). But if it is a memory, the other key plot point is that Ethan receives a phone call about Rose’s test results. Put a pin in that one for later too.

There’s one more relevant detail that comes up when Chris finds the real Mia in Miranda’s lab, where she says she was captured and used in experiments. This is the kind of line it’s best not to get too carried away with, since it’s mostly here to explain why Miranda would have kept Mia alive at all. But if she’s had time for experiments, that does suggest Miranda’s had time to sneak back and forth between Ethan’s house and the village while posing as Mia, which does change the picture a little. I mean, you could say those experiments were performed by one of the four lords or some other assistant, of course, but it’s not the most obvious interpretation.

How Chris discovered Miranda was posing as Mia isn’t clearly explained (and is probably the kind of question you're not supposed to ask), though it’s vaguely hinted in dialogue that his team figured out her plan through 'recon'. Possibly, they had Miranda under surveillance, though it can’t have been very thorough – they obviously didn’t witness Mia’s abduction, for one, or they’d have known she might still be alive.

Then again, if Miranda has been sneaking back and forth from the village while posing as Mia, that might give Chris’ team more chances to spot her doing it and follow her back to the Winters’. Or maybe they’re not good enough to tail Miranda, and found out her plan from a third party, or one of those remarkably convenient diaries that RE characters are forever leaving lying around. Lots of possibilities, no real answers.

A few firmer details about Miranda’s movements come from the diary of Eugen, a peasant in the village. From this and other assorted documents, we can put together a partial timeline of events surrounding Mia’s kidnapping. The list below doesn’t cover every recent date mentioned in the game, just those I caught that looked significant.

February 2: Rose’s half-birthday (she was born on August 2, 2020).

February 3: Miranda requests Eugen find her a list of ‘drugs and tools’ in the next few days (that she presumably needs for her plans for Rose).

February 6: Ethan mentions a fight with Mia (or ‘Mia’) at the hospital in his diary.

February 8: Chris Redfield kills ‘Mia’ and kidnaps Rose and Ethan.

February 9: Eugen is instructed to deliver the tools to Miranda’s ceremony at dawn, where she divides Rose into four pieces. Ethan wakes up outside the village, and the main events of the game take place.

February 10: Miranda's ceremony to revive Rose/Eva takes place at dawn. Final boss battle and ending.

This timeline can’t give us an exact date for Mia’s kidnapping, but we do know from Eugen, that there was ‘no sign of Mother Miranda’ on the 8th (a hint she was off impersonating Mia), but she was in the village on the 3rd of February, about a week before the game begins. He also sacrificed two goats to Miranda on the 1st, but doesn’t specify whether she was personally present.

Now, it’s possible Miranda snuck back to visit the village on the 3rd while posing as Mia, but the more obvious read is that this is before Mia was taken. Either way, it’s safe to assume Miranda’s plans are well underway.

That’s about all the game gives us explicitly, but there are a few other clues.

The note in Ethan’s diary from the 6th about arguing with Mia ‘at the hospital’ provides no context for why he was at the hospital, but in the dream/flashback, we see him making an appointment to collect Rose’s test results ‘next Thursday’. Significantly, those test results can be found in a nearby drawer, signed ‘Applefeld Memorial Hospital’. So that much all adds up: the 6th was Thursday,* they were at the hospital to pick up Rose's test results. When Ethan refers to having “another” fight with Mia in his diary for the 6th, the argument from the flashback could well be the specific previous incident he’s thinking of.

This all matters, because we can be pretty confident the Mia from the flashback was the real thing: Mia can only have been replaced after that call took place. So when was that?

Rose’s test results are undated in the file text, but if you look closely at the in-game asset (screencap above), you might make out the date 28/1/2021. It’s not totally clear whether this is the date the tests were conducted, or the date the report was returned to the doctor. But it does make good sense for Rose to have been due for a check-up, as there are photos and notes about her ‘half-birthday’ on the 2nd Feb, making her just on 6 months old.

From this, we can make a decent guess when the flashback happened. The appointment is made for ‘next week’ and ‘next Thursday’ in dialogue, so the call must have been somewhere between Jan 26 (Mon) and Feb 2 (Sun) the previous week. And if the results themselves are dated to Jan 28, then the call can’t have come through before then, so that gives us between Jan 28 (Wed) and Feb 2 (Sun). Since the doctor says she's 'just received' Rose's test results on the phone, that date on the report (Jan 28) may well be the date of the call.

Either way, Miranda logically can’t have replaced Mia before the 28th – eleven days before the events of the game begin. (Still with me?)

There’s another, more sinister reason why Rose’s check-up might be significant: the BSAA was involved. The text of the report specifies “Results for additional fungal pathogen tests will be provided by BSAA.” The in-game image of the report has a “BSAA Europe Medical Division” logo as its header. And the end of the game contains a lot of hints that the BSAA is no longer to be trusted, and that Miranda may well have contacts in the organisation. So it’s disturbingly plausible that the results of the check-up were deliberately leaked to Miranda – maybe even results of those additional ‘fungal pathogen tests’ too, long before anything ever made it back to Ethan. Perhaps those 6-month-test-results were even the reason Miranda takes an interest in Rose.

All that said, there’s also good reason to suppose Miranda’s had her eye on Rose for much longer than a mere week or two – the fact the Winters were moved to Romania at all could suggest she’s been pulling strings there for some time. So maybe these latest tests only confirmed what she already suspected for a long time.

Either way, it’s very possible that leaked info from Rose’s 6-month-medical-check-up was a key inciting incident behind the events of the game. Happy half-birthday, Rose!

Lord knows how much of all that subtext was even intentional, but if it was, that is some subtle shit, and I applaud it.

But getting back to the point, let’s just expand that timeline a little.

January 28 (Tuesday): Date on Rose’s medical report. Earliest date that Mother Miranda could have replaced Mia.

January 28-February 2: Ethan receives a call from the hospital, making an appointment to come pick up his daughter’s test results on the 6th (Thursday). He and Mia have the argument from the flashback scene.

February 2 (Sunday): Rose’s half-birthday (she was born on August 2, 2020).

February 3 (Monday): Miranda requests Eugen find her a list of ‘drugs and tools’ in the next few days (that she presumably needs for her plans for Rose).

February 6 (Thursday): Ethan and Mia (or possibly Miranda-as-Mia) visit the hospital to pick up Rose’s medical report. They have the fight mentioned in Ethan’s diary.

February 8 (Saturday): Chris Redfield “kills” Miranda-as-Mia and kidnaps Rose and Ethan. Miranda revives, overturns the truck carrying Ethan and Rose, and abducts Rose.

February 9 (Sunday): Eugen is instructed to deliver the tools to Miranda’s ceremony at dawn, where she divides Rose into four pieces. Ethan wakes up outside the village, and the main events of the game take place.

February 10 (Monday): Final boss battle and ending.

There’s plenty of wiggle room in this timeline for other interpretations, but what little info the game gives us mostly seems to add up to this sequence. The 28th remains a plausible earliest date for Mia’s replacement, meaning she’s been posing as Mia for no more than 11 days at the very most. If we take it from Eugen’s diary that Miranda was still in the village on the 3rd, then we’re looking at less than one week.

And that’s just a little disappointing to me, because it doesn’t give a lot of time for stuff like, oh, you know, for all those jars of baby food to build up, while Miranda cooks baby Rose the kind of specially formulated diet that would make Marguerite Baker proud.

See, whatever timeline the in-game dates may suggest, I still like the idea of a Miranda who’s been playing a much longer con: pulling strings to get the Winters moved closer to her, and spending time impersonating Mia, rather than simply absconding with Rose at the first opportunity. That gives her time to make sure Rose is the vessel she needs and prepare for her ceremony before bringing the wrath of Chris Redfield down on her head (and that of anyone else who might take offense at Rose’s abduction).

It gives her time, moreover, to play at being Rose’s mother, while already working to mould Rose into her own daughter. She’ll eat what Eva ate, hear the bedtime stories Eva heard, be cradled in the loving arms of the same mother who mourned Eva’s death.

To that end, imagine a Miranda who may have befriended Mia long before replacing her, using one or more shapeshifted guises to learn more about her and her family, preparing to impersonate her believably. Maybe Miranda’s even the one who taught Mia some of those ‘local recipes’ – recipes she'll go on cooking after taking her place.

The game doesn’t dwell on the horror from Mia’s POV, and that’s a shame, because damn: being abducted and imprisoned, subjected to god-knows-what kind of experimentation – knowing all the while that you won’t be missed, because the monster who abducted you is now living in your home, wearing your face and sleeping beside your husband, who won't even know you’re gone? That is some A-grade shit.

For which matter, how do we know Mia was the only one Miranda was experimenting on? What if one of the reasons Ethan wants to talk about the Bakers at the start of the game is that he’s been having this horrific series of “nightmares” where he wakes up back in the dark, restrained and helpless, while a ‘possessed’ Mia leans over him with a grin and a scalpel? (We know his body would heal any evidence away, and we know Miranda was sourcing drugs – and why would she need drugs to crystalise and divide Rose?)

Basically, I’m 100% here for a Miranda who’s been insinuating herself into the Winters’ lives for at least the maximum nominal period the timeline backs up. It makes so much narrative sense, and the horror possibilities are wonderful.

But this is all just circling around the more character-significant question: how much of the tension in Ethan and Mia’s marriage was really thanks to Miranda, and how much was there to begin with?

The short answer is always going to be that it’s down to interpretation. The “Mia” who argued with Ethan at the hospital may or may not have been the real thing: nothing definitive points one way or the other. There’s definitely evidence things were tense pre-Miranda, given their interactions in the flashback scene. But there's also some evidence those arguments have taken a different character since Mia was replaced.

Miranda’s “Mia” is snidely dismissive of Ethan’s desire to talk about the past, claiming she just wants to put it all behind them. The real Mia from the flashback is anxious and depressed: tired of going back over past trauma, but at the same time frustrated with the aspects they don’t talk about (ie. Ethan). The Mia we hear worrying on the radio in Donna’s basement seems to suffer from a lot of the same anxieties. In the flashback, it’s Ethan being dismissive, insisting “Rose is fine, everything’s fine, what else matters?”

To argue about character inconsistencies here is to miss the point: they’re both worried about what their past means for Rose, and it’s all bubbling over now Rose is due for her 6-month tests. Given all that underlying tension and the weight of past trauma, it’s not unbelievable for the two of them have effectively been taking turns to be the one-who-worries and the one-who-brushes-those-worries-off. Sometimes, that's just how mutual anxieties work in a relationship bubble.

But the jump from the Mia of the flashback to the Mia of the Ethan’s diary – who blows up at the mere mention of events of three years ago – seems unlikely as the same Mia who was so anxious in that flashback, and so clearly still wants to talk about something they haven’t addressed. It’s hardly impossible Mia-from-the-hospital could be the real Mia (Ethan’s summary is very brief, and days have passed in between), but she makes far more sense to me as Miranda’s Mia, who quickly gets defensive when Ethan broaches the subject at all.

In summary: no, Miranda is not the only reason things have been tense between Ethan and Mia lately. But I doubt the argument "Mia" has with Ethan at the opening of the game is all that representative of what things have really been like between them. And the real issues are a lot more nuanced than the generic Mia-told-lies-and-is-mean take, but that’s really a subject for another post.

It’s only fair to admit here that one of the reasons I like the idea of Miranda replacing Mia earlier is because I’d like to be able to blame her for more of the problems Ethan and “Mia” have been having, because I like them both as characters, and I like them together. But then again, if you’re in the opposite camp, maybe you like the implications of the idea that things are already so awkward in the Winters household that Ethan could even go weeks without even realising Mia had been replaced by an imposter – it’s really all in the spin.

Because at the end of the day, the implications for Ethan and Mia’s relationship aren’t the point. There's just so much potential for atmosphere and twisted horror storytelling that comes with a scenario where Miranda has kept up her ruse for much longer than the nominal timeline suggests.

11 days? Oh, Mother Miranda is just getting started.

*Just to confuse things a little, the actual 6th February 2021 was a Saturday, not a Thursday, but the writers probably didn't bother to check: this is Resident Evil, not Lord of the Rings or something.

[mississpissi]

im asking you to explain :mic: abby and her dad go

ok this all started w bulks post about “abby” meaning “father’s joy” and it got me thinking about the contrast between cecil’s relationship with his mom versus the relationship i imagine between abby and her dad. fair warning that this mostly exists in my head but u bet ur burger im still gonna try to back up my ideas w quotes from the text (AP lit and lang babey).

first of all, looking at cecil’s relationship with his mom is super important. one of the first things we hear about her is that she used to hide from cecil for days and that she covered all the mirrors in their house (33). she also tells cecil to “beware, be warned, be wary”, which she apparently says to everything and cecil interprets to mean that she’s proud of him. we also hear in “Homecoming” (55) that cecil looks forward to seeing his mom every year at the homecoming game and was disappointed when he wasn’t able to. in “It Sticks With You” (182), we learn their mother would take them into the woods and walk quickly, cecil saying, “I think she wanted to lose us in the shadowy labyrinth of tall trees.” she would leave flowers at the base of the same old tree every time. she would ignore cecil’s questions. in “Bedtime Story” (132), which im convinced is about cecil (but that’s another post), cecil says “he just wanted his mother to show interest in his curiosity.” and even if that story isn’t about him, it is a story his mother would tell him at night, one he never heard the end of. in the traffic section of “Pioneer Days” (143), cecil tells a story of a boy left behind, abandoned by his family, left with nothing but a snake. im also fairly certain this is about him (cecil loves to tell his own story without ever really telling it). 

most revealing is what cecil says in “Ghost Stories” about his mother and her death. we learn their mother left when cecil was 14 (whatever that means), that cecil “thought that Mom would be back at any moment, like maybe she was away on business. Or out for a walk. Or just hiding.” He says, “And Mom flew away, when all other defenses failed her.” we learn she returned many years later, sick and old and “sorry”. we learn that she died soon after in a way that was “mundane”, that cecil was at work when it happened. we learn that cecil mourned her passing.

all of this paints a picture of a relationship that was strained, full of pain, downright abusive. and we see cecil, as he does so often, retrofit this pain to be something more palatable. she was hiding because she was proud. she didn’t speak to him because she was focused on something else. her defenses had failed her. she was struggling with alcoholism and mental illness. she was playing a game. she covered the mirrors because of pride. she came back! her death was inevitable. he misses her. he grieves her. he loved her. she might have loved him. he makes excuses for her because to do anything else would be to admit that he had experienced immense pain- to re-experience this immense pain. better to change the story.

now abby. 

we don’t know nearly as much about abby as i wish we did. we know she “approach[es] life with a total practicality,” that she will save her pain for when she is in private (It Devours!). steve says, “With Abby around, I can't imagine a bad thing that could happen" (89). we know her relationship with cecil has been tumultuous, that she leaned on cecil and then on steve as she raised janice. in “Bedtime Story”, the sister in the story fought with her brother, telling him she hated him. “she would wrestle him to the ground and pull his hair.” after the boy is buried in the ground, the sister often visits the tree he becomes. she plants flowers, removes beatles from his bark, reads in his shade, plucks his fruit. she visits with a man and a child, visits with joy and with tears in turn. this sister, this abby mourns her brother and tries to protect him, fights with him, loves him. 

and, again, in “Ghost Stories”, we learn that abby was “reserved and controlling”, that she dropped out of college when their mom left to raise cecil, that she blamed him (that cecil blamed her for not being their mom). we learn that abby was there when their mother died, that her death prompted cecil and abby to reconcile their differences. we learn that cecil and abby are both haunted by their family. 

here’s where i diverge from what we really have. 

we haven’t really heard from abby. everything we know of her we’ve learned from cecil and steve. but i have to imagine she resented their mother, that she hardly wanted to drop her plans for her future to raise her younger brother.  i hardly have to imagine what it’s like to have that kind of responsibility thrust upon you when all you wanted was to live your own life. i have to imagine watching your mother die, your mother who just reentered your life after years of neglect, would hurt, would be complicated, would cut deep.

i imagine mr. and mrs. palmer bringing home their first born child, naming her “Abby”, naming her “father’s joy”, naming her after the pride that swelled in her father’s chest. i imagine mr. and mrs. palmer doing their best to raise their daughter in a town as hostile as night vale. i imagine them wanting a sibling for their daughter, someone to keep her company when they couldn’t. i imagine abby struggling with the idea for a moment, then embracing her brother wholeheartedly. i imagine mrs. palmer naming their son “Cecil”, naming him “blind”, naming him after the future she saw.

i imagine abby, her father’s joy, watching as he brought his son to “work in the pasture” with him (132). watching as her brother was injured by his curiosity, watching as her father avoided him in his anger. watching her mother hide from her brother. i imagine abby realizing she would have to be the one to patch him up, even while both parents were still home. i imagine abby hearing her father promise that he “would give [his] life for [his son]”, hearing him say her brother could never be a doctor because “he feared for the boy's future patients”. i imagine her wanting her father to offer his life for her, to invite her to the pasture. i imagine her becoming more reserved over time, realizing her brother needed more help and attention, willing to step into the background because she loved him, because she wanted to be strong for her family. i imagine her doing everything she could to live up to her name, to be someone worthy of the joy of her father.

i imagine abby, her father’s joy, watching him leave. maybe she knew why, maybe she was simply left. i imagine abby watching her mother slowly fall into paranoia and fear because of her brother, because of what she had seen. i imagine abby following her mother into the woods, placing flowers on the trunk of a tree she recognizes, trying to keep cecil distracted by playing a game with him. i imagine abby making sure cecil got to school, got food when their mother was hiding from him. i imagine abby finding out her mother too had left, left her with now full time responsibility for cecil. i imagine abby becoming controlling because she had to, because she had lost control over so many other aspects of her life. i imagine abby channeling what she could remember of her father, trying to be strong, reliable- ignoring that he had stopped being that very suddenly. i imagine abby yelling at a teenage cecil, telling herself that it was better than ignoring him like they had. i imagine abby finding out she was to become a mother, a mother without a father, a mother to a daughter who had more needs than she could handle on her own. i imagine abby finding a man who wanted to help, who could provide a stability cecil was unable to, for all his enthusiasm. i imagine abby, kicking her drunk brother she had raised out of her wedding, not willing to look him in the face for years without seeing her father, seeing her mother, seeing ghosts.

and i imagine abby listening to her brother describe their father on live radio. i imagine her cleaning up after the dinner steve made, hearing about a man with a “thin mouth… [and] threatening, beckoning eyes” (192). hearing about a man, their father, her father, going into the forest with a shovel, digging himself out of the ground. i wonder if she put the pieces together retroactively or if she’d had them all along. i imagine her waiting for the shower to cry. i imagine her hearing that cecil received a photograph of their father (201, 219). i wonder if she went to see it, if she was able to, if she even wanted to see it. i wonder if she listened in, checking that her brother was taking care of her daughter, only to hear that her father, the man who’s joy she had once been, was actually talking to cecil (224). i wonder if she wondered why he was reaching out to cecil and not her. i wonder if she called cecil after, or if she knew he meant it when he said, “I refuse to look into it further.” i wonder if she hopes that when cecil is made to remember their father, she gets to as well. i wonder how long she was her father’s joy, and how long she spent grieving whatever changed that.

most of all, i wonder if WE’RE EVER GONNA GET TO HEAR ABBY’S FUCKING VOICE!!

[maxladcomics]

Hey, :/ anon here!

I'm gonna be completely honest. I was tired too and overreacted. I'm just so used to seeing people be assholes I read much too into it and??? Why was it so aggressive??? Also I brought up something unrelated??? Idk I'm sorry. Also my ask was absolutely awfully stated which really shows that maybe I should stop listening to my brain when it's past my bedtime. (Of course that doesn't excuse it.)

Basically, my problem was that you reblogged a thing that was talking about canon and came off as saying what Sans and Papyrus likes in canon and stuff. You refused some things that were canon or came up with ideas that weren't supported by canon (although not said otherwise.)

I'm very defensive due to undertale fans being cruel to others often and idk? I'm sorry again I'm a really shitty person. I should come off anon and apologize face off but :( I'm a coward.

You should reword it so it doesn't sound like you're saying this is canon, but everything else was 100% my fault. I'm sorry

Anon this isn't fair you're not supposed to be aware of your decisions and actions and regret things!

Hahaha, but it's ok!

At the point of answering your ask I was exhausted and shouldn't have replied because I like pretending to be concise and clear, but I can only do that in certain circumstances. BUT TO BE CLEAR- there is no malice, I'm not mad at you and you weren't wrong for getting mad about it. Not saying you were mad or came across that way, I understand it was a defensive reaction, I get that way around certain theories (Surprisingly not theories on Papyrus or his brother)

"maybe I should stop listening to my brain when it's past my bedtime."

Sometimes it can't be helped lmao. I hope you weren't too upset by it, and I'll edit out the bedtime thing from my other post, while I do believe I'm right in that part, the only proof I have is the lack of and I'm willing to concede that doesn't mean it's not true. Even if I want it to be GRR.

"You refused some things that were canon or came up with ideas that weren't supported by canon"

Tbh I might need someone to hold my hand and point out where I went wrong with it, that post was definitely aimed at being as canon as possible with direct quotes to support it (obviously didn't add them because that would've made the post too long to be bearable), but obviously the one with the lack of proof is the bedtime story one which I'm willing to edit out (and pretend to be salty about it).

BUT ALSO FAIR ON BEING DEFENSIVE. I understand, I get that way too around certain theories and ideas, which is the main reason I have built myself into this corner, I barely follow anyone and don't wander out into the fandom anymore. Is it lonely? NOPE. Do I regret any potential awesome friend out there that I'm missing because I'm doing this? YES. ALL THE TIME. I've made awesome friends but what if there's ones out there that I can't get because I have to find and interact first? AHH I THINK ABOUT THIS A LOT.

But anyway, you're not a shitty person, as I mentioned in another ask, your ask inspired a comic! I had to rush to note it down because I was relying on my memeory to hold it to sketching stage but felt it slipping away lmao. I am a little concerned the comic will come across as having malicious intent BUT I WANT TO DRAW MORE THAN ANY CONCERNS I HAVE.

[knackfandomarchive]

Condensed version of my Lucas Headcanon Post.

Because I'm a chatterbox. Sorry to @bestbuybathroom if the answer to your ask was overwhelming.

Lucas:

Liked school. Very smart.

Lost his mom in a fire when he was 8 and he lost all his belongings.

None of his blood relatives wanted to adopt him.

May or may not exhibit some bully behaviors.

Cried at night

vaguely suicidal

Had few/no friends

Was exhausted all the time

Threw tantrums

was otherwise polite to grown-ups

was/is interested in physics.

Loves puzzles

Raided the beverage tables for hot cocoa mix. Straight up ate it a few times.

Dedicated his life to solving the orb as a way to prove his self-worth, essentially. Vaguely obsessive/possessive.

Liked to hold the orb and carry it around where possible.

I may have accidentally made every character autistic.

Was 10 when Knack was 'born'

12 in the first game, 16 in the second game.

Acted as the older brother to Knack first. Treated him somewhat like a Toddler and a Pet in one.

Thought of Knack as *his* achievement, not the Doctor's.

Can be willfully ignorant.

Taught Baby Knack good stuff and funny stuff but also bad stuff.

Reenacted some things his mother would do as a means of affection, e.g bedtime stories, dancing. Kind of acted as a pseudo-parent.

Thought Baby Knack was dying when Knack was very sleepy.

Got good at reading Knack's body language.

Talked to the Doctor for Knack. Was the first to figure out Knack is able to communicate.

sometimes imitates Knack's mannerisms and vice versa.

Rarely jealous, but it does come up.

Kick-starts Knack's mischievous streak and teaches him some of his more overtly animal-like behaviors.

Thinks of Knack as Little Knack

Was very grabby with Baby Knack and often still touches Knack for this or that.

Grows confident that Knack would never hurt him. Too confident in some cases; for example taking something from a Baby Knack who was growling at him.

Would pass out if his scalp is massaged, but also very sheepish about it.

Sees himself in Knack.

Grew skeptical of the Doctor's authority

Encourages Knack to try new things

Knack & Lucas:

Switch big-brother-little-brother roles from scene to scene. Vulnerability, protection, defense and projection.

Ryder:

could not take care of Lucas while in the throes of grief.

gave Lucas the holoprojector locket.

convinced the Doctor to take Lucas in.

Gave Lucas a knife for his 12th birthday. In the original post I said butterfly knife because it's cool. I am now convinced that it's a soil knife to dig poop holes, because it's funny.

Doctor Vargas:

Played peek-a-boo with Lucas when the boy was a toddler

Super lonely

Throws himself into his work to push away his grief. Inadvertently teaches this to Lucas.

Well-meaning but selfish

Doesn't know what Lucas needs to heal.

Treated Lucas like he was sick when he cried.

Introduced Knack's orb to Lucas in an attempt for Doc and Lucas to both heal.

Took Lucas to museums and aquariums etc. Later Lucas and Knack. Later Lucas and Knack and Charlotte.

Initially thought of Knack as a kind of device.

Gave Lucas the Grappling Gun for his 12th birthday.

Once describes Lucas as having become more responsible since Knack came into their lives.

Knack:

Started out with 0 knowledge. Minor intuitions baked in, much like any infant.

Fell asleep for the first time in Lucas's arms. Doc had to carry him to his own room because he is a heavy boy even when Little.

Had a kind of imprinting process. It played a major part in his early behavior and the development of his personality. It sounds like a big deal and it kind of is, but it's not any more special than human babies imprinting. Occasionally more robot angle.

In canon, Knack's role seems to depend on his size. I like to subvert this on occasion.

Hangs out with Lucas as Little Knack

Is the Doctor's favorite...

Is a major teacher's pet.

[bilbobagginshome]

A bedtime story.

This is an experiment. Can you tell I can only write serial stories as opposed to one shots. Will probably be the only dark romance I write.

i genuinely hate this but decided on posting it since I’ve been MIA.

 Gojo Satoru x Black Fem Reader story.

“Mommy, can you tell me a bedtime story” White eyelashes fluttered softly, a defense to her sleepiness.

“Of course dear, what would you want to read? Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, or Princess and the Frog.”her mom softly responded 

“Those are boring. Today, Ms. Aki read for us a scary story, it was about a witch who would kill men. The boys were so scared during nap time but I wasn’t.” she loudly proclaimed, blue eyes glowing despite the room only being illuminated by the dimming solar night lamp beside her bed.

“Really? Okay then , my story is a bit less darker but i’ll make it as enjoyable as possible.” Y/n responds with a smile to which Malaika sees this as confirmation to place herself more comfortably underneath her purple sheets and  between her assortment of pink and purple plushies.

* * *

Once there was an aspiring writer, she dreamt up realities that could only exist on a sheet of paper or a laptop. Her only problem, her worlds were beginning to seem similar. Every short story published seemed like the sequel to the previous one and her blog readers were getting bored, desperate for something exciting , something that would change the world and hopefully turn to a Nteflix series …

* * *

“Mom, small words please.”She yawned out.

“Oh I’m sorry.”

* * *

After deciding that enough was enough, she decided to go on a journey and she landed on a place. Japan. She didn’t know the language or culture but an idea of a romance story began to stick like glue in her mind and she couldn’t let it go.

Although it took her months to realise her goal, she finally was able  to leave and after packing her few clothing essentials and a tearful goodbye to her family , she left for.

Now Japanese culture was different from hers She had to bow despite her culture saying the opposite. There were table manners that she should follow unless she wanted no one to talk to her and the people there were nice but only talked to one another. She became very sad and always thought about home. She began to regret even leaving home because she left all her family and friends there . Her writing got worse and even her fans started not liking her stories.

But one day, on a cafe near her home, she met the most handsome man she had ever seen. He looked strong , and his hair was as white as snow with lips as pink as the cherry blossoms outside. And he seemed strong too. Someone wanted to cut her off the queue as she wanted to order her favourite chocolate cake and tea but he stopped them. It was like seeing a real life prince charming.

After saying each others names, she found out his name was Sato. Sato was always looking at her. He was to be the actor that would play the man she wrote. He sat alongside Wanja, the girl to play her in the story . She was more beautiful that the writer and even though she was a bit jealous of her prettiness she thought that Wanja was a perfect fit .

After the meeting ended, the writer tried to tip toe her way out of the meeting but Sato stopped her and asked her to go on lunch with her. She said yes though she did not want to and as they waited on food she said sorry for writing about him even though she didn’t know him very well. He said he did not care and when he found her story , found it fun enough to act in and decided to tell his movie company about it. She wasn’t as scared being around him anymore and found him very funny to talk to. They even gave ach other phone numbers after lunch.

Soon the time to make the movie started. They had become good friends and the writer had fun with her first friend, They were always together or she’d find him somewhere where she was.They ate together, went to the park and walked together and even went to the beach and swam together. But unlike the writer, Sato liked her more than just friends, he wanted to be her boyfriend.

So when work started and she started hanging around more people, Sato would say bad things about them to the writer . These stories were not true but the writer believed them. He would stop her talking to other people and make her talk to him all the time. Slowly he started to take her from home to work to so that she doesn’t go out with her new friends. He put cameras in her house to always look at her. Creepy right? But she didn’t know about this , all she knew was that he was her first friend and she shouldn’t betray him. But she was also scared. Her clothes had began to miss and always felt like someone was looking at her 

She told Sato about it. Sato pretended to be scared for her and told her he could stay at her place. That she could do work at home rather than going out and he will take care of her. She said okay and went to live with him. Living with him at first was fun. He made breakfast for her and his house was big and beautiful with everything she could ask for. It wasn’t like her small apartment with tiny windows.But she got bored . Aside from work and other witing she didn’t do much only sit around like a lazy kitty. One day, she asked of she could go out . Sato refused saying that she may be still be looked for. And although she had only asked to walk outside he still refused. She started not liking Sato though she hid it . And one day , she found something weird in Sato’s room that she wasn;t allowed to enter. Many pictures of her after she met him. She got scared and decided to run so far away he’ll never see her again.

* * *

“And so mommy , did she run away?” Malaika yawned, cocooning herself more into the bed.

“Yep, she went back home, and found her family and friends.” Y/n replied softly as she adjusted her silk blue bonnet.

“That was a bit boring mommy.” She drawned out. 

“What was?” Satoru asked as he walked in the room, illuminating the barely light room with the hallway light.

“Just a story, let’s go to bed, she’s sleeping.” Y/n responded as she rose from the bed , Satoru placed a kiss on her forehead and after standing straight up, with a slightly condecending smirk on his face , said.

“Where’s my kiss to welcome me home love?”

[aronarchy]

https://twitter.com/b0ytits/status/1618717771893977088

Saw some really terrible abolish bedtimes discourse over on Masto under a mutual’s post & it got me thinking about why the majority of people even alleged leftists and anarchists so aggressively go to bat for using coercion & authoritarian tactics to control children’s behavior

Was discussing it with some friends & we named lots of ways folks could arrive at a misunderstanding of the idea. Folks having differing concepts of what “bedtime” entails, folks thinking that bedtime abolition means not having any limits or boundaries with kids around sleep, etc

But I think there’s a subtle indoctrination into the logic of authoritarian parenting that really holds it all together

I think that a lot of folks come to retroactively believe in their adulthood that they would not have slept/eaten/met their own basic needs if their parents had not used authoritarian tactics on them to make them do so

It’s a circular logic. Because my parents used authoritarian tactics to make me go to bed, I clearly would not have done so if they had not, therefore it was justified and correct and must also continue to be done to other children

And this logic has buy-in because its psychologically self-protective. If it was necessary, than any harm caused was justified and acceptable

It protects adults from both having to interrogate whether or not their experiences with authoritarian parenting as children were harmful (harm which their own parents will never acknowledge and accept responsibility for)...

... AND whether or not using those same authoritarian tactics with their own children is causing harm

It is immensely painful & difficult for most people to accept that they were harmed by a loved one, especially if that person is unwilling to acknowledge it & accept responsibility

It is likewise extremely painful and difficult for most parents to accept that they have harmed their own child. So people become intensely defensive when asked to confront the reality that children are people, they are trustworthy, and they can be taught to listen to their own bodies’ signals without force or coercion

And just as an addendum, I’d like to remind folks that the conceptual framework that kids are inherently bad or naughty and must be corrected/controlled by adults in order to become good is directly rooted in the Christian idea that we are all born into sin 🙃

[residentsweatgoblin]

I'm only coming from the perspective of Ireland and Spain (Just Cataluña really) but "golliwogs" (the racist dolls mentioned above) havent been a thing since the 80s (still recent enough to merit discussion but not something ive ever seen in my living lifetime) and while the dutch are definitely very weirdly defensive about their "Minstrel Shows" (the festive blackface) I cant say I'm familiar with any other european yuletide traditions that are still practiced today that are particularly racist/offensive (I am open and encouraging folks to challenge me on this with citation btw). Anway, let me share with you some actually good european winter solsticetime traditions. In Ireland we sit around and drink from dawn til dusk around a warm fire with friends and family because its too fucking cold out and most everyone has work off, and we watch prince of egypt / ben hur / high school musical. Theres not really a name for it, thats just what christmas day/stevens day is about. As for a more localised tradition, remember that bit where I said its too fucking cold out? Yea well aparently all the leaded fuel really did a number on us Dubliners because come christmas day, without fail you'll see folks congregate at docksides, launches and beaches all around Dublin for a 'Christmas Swim'. Now, diving into briny water in late december at the same lattitude as Hudson Bay (thats in Canada), should probably be a death sentence, but Irish waters are fed into by a series of warm atlantic currents, so while still being pretty cold, its actually not terrible to swim in. And yea, people just go do it, on christmas day, because there wasnt shit else to do on christmas day back in the day. I dont know if this tradition extends to other coastal areas of the country but it probably does, maybe not up north cus its fuckass cold up there.

Now in Cataluña, *smacks lips* oh theyve got the best shit ever.

First of all, the nativity scene, the iconic centrepiece of christmas, such a pristine diorama, youve got the iconic trio joseph, mary and joseph, the donkey that worked so hard to get them here, some gentle well kempt shepherds, angels, cherubs, a divine star, theres even three kings that happened to be passing through town...but arent you forgetting someone? Arent you forgetting the most important figure in the nativity? Arent you forgetting...

EL CAGANER

Or to roughly translate: the shiterrrrrrrrrrrr

This guys a little figurine included in the nativity scene, typically placed outside the stable (the guy has a sense of decency he just had to go is all) its a predominantly Catalan tradition, but its common down the mediteranean coast and even Portugal and Naples.

Traditionally its just a little peasant guy wearing a red catalan beretina but theres shops around Barcelona where you can get celebrity Caganers.

this shit is better than funkopops in literally every conceivable way

But you know whats also a classic scatalogical festive season tradition in Cataluña?

Tió de Nadal

Look at this jolly little guy! Originally he didnt have the face or the legs and wasnt so small, once upon a time he was just a big log that you dragged into the house and assigned some personhood to for the hollywood season. Starting from the feast of the immaculate conception, every night before bedtime you give the tio a little bite to eat, and is covered in a red blanket to stay warm, then on chirstmas day or christmas eve, the kids beat the tio with sticks while singing songs, usually with lyrics ordering tio to defecate. After all the song and dance is done, you lift the blanket up and low and behold, tio has shit you out a beautiful pile of presents! Typically comprised of nuts, torons, candies, dried fruits and small toys, what a swell guy! Anyway, to get back to the topic of the post, im not trying to detract from the broad points, but for real it was kinda making it sound like every European country is the Netherlands and we're all out here cheering on blackface on christmas day. Again, if anyone knows of any other sickeningly offensive european holiday season festivities let me know, Im open to education and not just making shit up about other peoples of the world.

my only advice is to BE CAREFUL posting about holiday traditions around europeans. you'll post something casual like "anyone else watch the old Grinch movie every year? what a classic" and a european will appear as if summoned and say some shit like "funny how USAmericans always CONVENIENTLY forget that Not Everyone On Earth is from The USA…….. no of COURSE we dont watch 'the grunch' or whatever the fuck that is…. our tradition is to attend a community showing of Glummdorf the Racial Stereotype"

[apieters]

Kopa: "So how often do you really get into a sword fight on a narrow beam?" Andre: "More often than you'd think, Your Majesty--good job slipping, by the way."

In This Scene

In Swashbucklers of the Magic Kingdom, my still-being-outlined Disney fanfiction project, Chris Carnovo the tyrannosaur and Andre Caron (the eponymous swashbucklers) specialize in different fencing styles and weapons: Chris favors thrust-centric swords like the rapier and smallsword, while Andre favors cutting weapons like sabres, broadswords, and longswords. Their weapon preferences also reflect slightly different philosophies when it comes to fighting: Chris tends to emphasizes self-defense and even the sporting aspects of fencing, while Andre tends to favor a more militaristic approach centered around earnest combat. This means that certain clients tend to be drawn more toward one or the other teacher. While I haven't yet drafted this portion of the story, Prince Kopa of the Pridelands will eventually admire Andre's sabre/broadsword skills enough to choose it as his main fencing style. Here, Andre trains with Kopa on how to fence on a narrow ledge. While unrealistic in our world, in the Magic Kingdom odd fencing situations, like having to fence on a narrow beam, are much more common.

Behind the Scenes

Another bedtime sketch I finished a while back and am posting now. The "slip" Andre is referring to is the way Kopa pulls his right foot backwards as he parries Andre's cut. This is a signature technique of the Scottish/British broadsword tradition that serves to protect the leg from cuts and move the body and face a few extra inches away.

[ohwhale22]

JHOPE WEVERSE POST

2023.12.31

weverse link

translation:

"ARMY 💜 How are you??💜🫡 2023 is just around the corner. But I think it was a special and thankful year in many ways, so I came to say hello briefly. This year, I think I worked and moved in a variety of ways, focusing clearly on the military. I want to show you things that I haven't been able to show you. I'm going to an award ceremony alone I want to attend big shows in Paris I want to repay you with a big gift before I join the military. I made a song with someone I respect I prepared contents that will make you feel warm while serving in the military After living in such a busy and fierce life, I joined the military. 😂😂 As a soldier, I've been running for 9 months Already? We are preparing to welcome the year of the entire country. (Of course... it's October at the end...😢😂🫡) All I can feel is that I want to show you a great performance as soon as possible, That's how much I miss you! I miss our members and I'm worried, On the one hand, I feel the same.. It also gives me strength...! I can tell you because I've been through it before...! I'm sure everyone feels the same way there!!...haha Before bedtime, I think a lot and encounter various dreams. Things that were so natural and trivial became ideal It relieves fatigue for a while and lets you breathe stiffly. I'm sure my dragonfly is the same today as the sun goes down, right? Haha The day of faithfully completing the duty of national defense makes the start of 24 years stronger!!! Anyway, thanks to you, we endured and moved in 23 years. It's new, but I still want to express it...😅🤣) Happy New Year to you... Our real and ideal ARMY, our members Let's not get sick and be happy!!!! 🥰😍🤩 I love you!!!🥰😍

💜 Happy birthday, Tae Taehyung. 💜 🤫"

[soupandsimple]

Your Side (With Sirius Black)

[ telling boyfriend Sirius to stay away from you on a hot night ]

* fluff! (mention of nudity but nothing happens with it)

** it’s adult Sirius Black but you can decide if it’s pre, post or no Azkaban Sirius! Enjoy 🖤

…………..

“Siri get away from me” you said to your boyfriend Sirius Black, causing him to huff for the third time that night.

It was bedtime and Sirius was desperately trying to cuddle with you, which tonight you just weren’t having.

He was by far the biggest night cuddler you ever met besides yourself, so it’s not that you were trying to be mean but you did have your boundaries, such as with this hot and stuffy weather happening tonight; it was so unbearable that even just the thought of being cuddled up made you feel warmer and more irritated.

In somewhat to Sirius’s defense though, you were only clad in panties because of the heat so telling him to stay away from you tonight was like telling a child to pick broccoli over a piece of candy.

“Doll c’mon…” Sirius whined, trying to envelope you into his arms again.

“No seriously, it feels so disgusting in here and you trying to pile on me makes it worse” you snapped, putting your arms out a bit to have him stay back.

“Did you just call me disgusting?” Sirius scoffed, acting offended.

“I said it feels disgusting in here…” you reiterated, rolling your eyes. “Look, just stay on your side tonight, okay?” you said, turning your back in his direction and scooting over to your edge of the bed as much as you possibly could.

Realizing he wasn’t going to win this, Sirius grudgingly accepted and took to his side. There, with back against the mattress, he laid flat and ran his hands up his face in defeat. He allowed his fingers to slip through the front of his hair a bit before releasing a sigh, “Goodnight love.”

“Night” you simply replied, aware that he wasn’t happy but more than grateful that you finally got your requested space…for a few hours anyway.

Because sometime during the middle of the night, you sleepily mumbled out “Baby?” and inched over close beside Sirius. And although he himself was deep in sleep, he unconsciously wrapped his arms around you.

Letting your face snuggle against his chest then, you exhaled a sigh of comfort and easily fell back into dreamland.

——————————————————————————

When morning came, you groggily woke up and looked up at the man you were attached to; a man, who by the way, was already adoringly looking down at you.

“Good morning beautiful” Sirius said with still a hint of morning raspiness in his voice.

“Morning,” you muttered, as you inhaled the cool morning air through your nose with a little arch of your back for a stretch

“I stayed on my side like you told me to darling but I can’t say you did the same,” he teased with a cocky smirk as his thumb brushed your shoulder.

Smiling meekly as you remembered your orders to him last night, you closed your eyes again and tucked your face back into his chest. “No I didn’t, but I know you don’t mind” you muffled contently against his center.

Sirius chuckled lightly at your outright confidence, “No, I most certainly don’t” he said, confirming your statement as he kissed the top of your head and tightened his hold on you. <3

TagList: @regulusblackswhorecrux

[mayakern]

hi i realized i didn’t answer any of your questions whoops. in my defense it’s past my bedtime (accidentally took a 3hr nap earlier) and the edible has kicked in.

anyway their dynamic is very funny. rodeo is mischievous and loves to instigate chaos/conflict/playtime and annie loves to to steal joy. or at least she tries. so often rodeo will have a toy and she decides she wants it so she’ll go to a different toy and act like it’s her favorite thing in the world and when rodeo goes to play with the new toy she swoops around and steals the original toy. it’s incredibly funny to watch, especially because rodeo does Not care. he is a one man party and he makes his own fun, whether you want him to or not.

the dogs love playing together and i have tons of videos of this, some of which i’ve posted. rodeo loves getting beat up by dogs twice his size and that’s great because annie loves to give him the snack down. this might look scary but i promise they are both absolutely thriving.

he is an irl pokemon and this is just kinda how he is

love Annie and Rodeo's mischief gremlin faces, I feel like each of them have a different energy! how's their dynamic as doggy siblings? also have you ever drawn your dogs?

they defs have different energy!! annie is very loving and goofy but also VERY judgmental. she also is a bit of a control freak and isn’t very social, especially with strangers. she gives new dogs ONE CHANCE and if they do something she doesn’t like she goes off to sulk in the corner and feel persecuted. she’s also very sensitive and clingy and is basically a lap dog despite being 45lbs.

she also loves trying to die. one time she tried to jump off a second floor balcony because she saw a dog she knew on the sidewalk. she didn’t even particularly like that dog she just knew it. on christmas morning she ate six whole sticky buns that contained THIRTY FUCKING RAISINS and had to be rushed to the emergency vet. luckily she doesn’t seem to have the grape skin allergy and is fine now.

rodeo, on the other hand, is incredibly social, which is very funny considering he’s a shiba. he will sometimes have reservations about larger dogs but that only lasts like 10 minutes max. he is goofy and enthusiastic and high energy and so, like, jaunty?? i don’t know how else to describe it. he is also legitimately naughty. like, he’s a little miscreant. he is also incredibly nosy.

we worked with a trainer doing really intensive training with him for a while to help with his relationship with the cats (because he thinks they’re very fun but they do not have the same play language so the cats don’t think the same) and when we described him as naughty she was like yeah ok every dog owner thinks their dog is naughty. then she spent a couple weeks with him in her home while we were out of town and she was like, what is this dog shaped goblin and why does he love stealing. how is he such an agent of chaos. it was honestly very validating to have this professional dog trainer who specializes in high drive breeds like malinois and german shepherds look at rodeo and go “i have to rework all of my methods because this guy is so goddamn weird.”