#most of the story is fluff

[canisalbus]

What if I told you that RoobrickMarine went and wrote an entire novella starring my 16th century dog couple? It's very canon-adjacent, well researched and thoughtfully put together, has inspired me a ton during these past months and it's now publicly available at AO3. I highly recommend it.

✦ Separation ✦

[wolfy1298]

“A cloud atlas symbolizing Dvalin and his former master, the Anemo Archon. It details the winds and clouds of the northern regions and contains the powers of the sky and wind” -Skyward Atlas description

[taz-writes]

here's a hot take for today

the narrative function of sex is the same as the narrative function of fight scenes is the same as the narrative function of songs in a musical

no i will not explain

[overly-verbose]

I'm just thinking that Uraume is a great cook, but the real masterpieces are made up of people. I understand that Sukuna will be a little uncomfortable eating people's kebabs (that usually scares teenagers, you know). BUT. The moral mobility of His Evil Majesty's mentality simply says to me: Find the enemy, and the big guy will finally get a nice meal. He worked so hard, he deserves dinner. ("Fu_k, Marry, Eat" game. Start). SO. ONE DAY. People tempura — yes or no? How much Curse is in our King?

Uraume is indeed a great cook, ridiculously even lol

- I mean afaik it's canon that, whilst human meat is supposedly difficult to prepare well, they managed to do it; which is one of the main reasons why Sukuna kept them around aside from the fact that they're a powerful sorcerer lol

(he most probably liked the unaltered taste by itself too (he did in my Series Canon for sure), but Uraume made it additionally enjoyable - so for Mr. I Do What I Want it was definitely a unique plus lol)

As for SIkuna eating people, hmm

Although he's pretty deeply in denial about it, he doesn't actually directly feel anything negative at the prospect

(as showed in Part 4, he actually found the little taste of Yuji's blood he got by accident ridiculously enjoyable, if in terms of Identity Issues and 'Ah Shit That's The Kid's Blood' extremely distressing as well. What a fun combination)

- it's Everything Else around it that makes him uneasy; like the fact that he Knows It's Wrong, The Kids Would Most Freaking Likely Not Like it, and just overall the Character Dissonance he feels about it all

because how the fuck can he be a protective inner marshmallow that would just like to hug the kids, and give them headpats, and heal their wounds, and just overall take care of them as best as he can 🥺

and someone that gets absolutely freaking giddy at the idea and acts of violence and bloodshed (as long as it doesn't involve Some People but especially if it involves Other Ones) at the same time y'know?

(sorry bro, you're not gonna get any less contradictory anytime soon if ever - have fun being yourself, whatever that means, lol

Complex characterisation and all that ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ)

But returning to the topic; I won't say anything about further down the timeline

(he might, he might not, who knows, probably not in a way that would upset the kids too much if anything but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

but there is this one particular, hm, person that would fit all boxes in terms of being a mostly guiltless but still tasty snack, though not as tasty as possible, who miight be meeting him relatively soon (how??)

- and SIkuna wouldn't even need to break any promises with Yuji (oop spoiler 👀) to indeed have a spooky snack!

So, before anything as sophisticated as tempura - there may be moreso sashimi :] *HeeHee HoHo's a bit as lighting strikes in the background and I comically jump in surprise because wtf the sky's clear-????*

.

[shirubiaowo]

Me posting all of my newest art before I forget and speed run my final presentation

[freak-accident419]

genuinely dreading the day i stop writing for jhutch characters, as one of the many first authors still here to write for his chars ever since the fnaf movie came out 🥲

[utilitycaster]

I propose we start referring to the "uwu I want my sweet babies to just be happy in a little seaside cottage, why is there so much icky plot that gets in the way of endless soft nothingness?" mentality surrounding so much of fandom as "cottage cheese." It is not a compliment.

(to be clear: this as an ending? fine! sometimes even great! but if you want a next season or more canon content? this is typically a goodbye. A happily ever after is so often summed up in three words because narratively that's all there really is to say. At best (for shippers anyway) the cottage gets destroyed utterly in the next season premiere so they have a reason to venture out together. At worst the relationship gets destroyed utterly so one of them has a reason to leave the cottage.)

[deiaiko]

#8 - Grief

Masterlist

Previous

Next

Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3

[crimeronan]

i keep reading thinkpieces and critiques of current mainstream fiction & how fandom has influenced mainstream lit and vice versa, n some of them make salient points about how fanfic does and doesn't prime a person for writing original fiction, etc. and some of them are very "fanfic has poisoned and corrupted the youths" and "we are rotting our brains" and "old man yells at cloud." and throughout all of this i just have the unshakable feeling that no matter what side of the "culture war" (if.... it can even be called that....) u fall on, these thinkpieces are typically missing two of the most important explanations for Why The Mainstream Market Is How It Is. which have very little to do with fanfic.

1. publishers are looking for books that are easy to read, easy to hype, and easy to mass produce. great insightful well-crafted works of subversive literature are not this. cute romcom tropey fluff IS this.

and perhaps most importantly,

2. most professional writers are not very good.

[gothsuguru]

I NEEEEEEEEEEEEED TO MAKE A TOJI FIC.

[scarlet-alleyway]

Okay im still brainrotting about your amazing work AND I HAVE TO ASK ABOUT THAT DAMN BULLET.

Will it make a comeback?? Will someone get hurt again?? Is Raph 100% okay or will there be some complications with the wound??? Idk if I’m fixating on minor details but I’ve been thinking about it sm

I mean... On a scale of 1 to ten,

.

.

.

How mad would you be?

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Ateez MTL likely to be romantic

Mtl: to be romantic.

I think all of them are pretty romantic so I sorted this by the size and kind of romantic gestures they‘d do for you.

(Explanation after cut)

——————————————————————

Most

Seonghwa

Yunho

Wooyoung

San

Hongjoong

Jongho

Yeosang

Mingi

Least

Seonghwa/Yunho: oh my. you are getting BURIED in love. They do all the classics. Movie date, Picnic Date, Beach date, tracing the way to your bed with roses, Amusement Park date, Restaurant date, Park date. You get the idea. They CONSTANTLY tell you how amazing and loves you are and how they don’t deserve you. Which you obviously protest against. They look at you with stars in their eyes (yes im talking Yunho looking at Mingi stars in their eyes)

Wooyoung/San: Wooyoung would be cooking for you all the time. Whatever and whenever you want. Always giving you cuddles and making sure to touch you 24/7. Both of them would probably constantly tease you with cheesy pick up lines. San would be attached to you at all times, always telling you how amazing and beautiful and wonderful you are. They would bring you little gifts to remind you how loved you are.

Hongjoong/Jongho: Love songs. A lot of love songs. Hongjoong would write the most beautiful lyrics for you even if he spends a lot of time away from you in the studio. He would make sure that every day when you listen to music you are reminded that he loves you. Jongho would do something similar. He would send you voice messages throughout the day singing you little love songs. One of his favourite romantic gestures is singing you to sleep.

Yeosang/Mingi: listen, these boys are romantic as well. They are just a bit shy and don’t like to show it. They don’t like spending money as much so they will usually just plan a little movie night at home on the couch. Their way of showing you how much they love you spending time with you, no matter what you are doing. Yeosang is definitely the type to blush every time something romantic happens. And Mingi just throws himself at you as soon as it’s getting comfortable.

I am not claiming to know how they behave/would behave. This is pure imagination.

—

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

—————



[twistedappletree]

I really want to write a short post-canon story about Jin Ling having nightmares from all of the trauma he’s endured, so Lan Sizhui uses his spiritual energy and their connection to guard his dreams one night and ends up guiding Jin Ling through his sleep.

Meanwhile, everything they see in Jin Ling’s dreamscape is lush and vibrant and fantastical without even a hint of anxiety or darkness, and while Jin Ling assumes the entire dream is shaped by Lan Sizhui’s influence, Lan Sizhui is only blocking out Jin Ling’s intrusive thoughts—the rest is all of the light and wonder Jin Ling’s imagination conjures on its own, a glimpse into what his dreams would be like every night if he hadn’t suffered all that he did.

[thenamesblurrito]

"one might even say a universal constant" i'm imagining there being some form of universal alteration going on, and she's uneffected. or someone has the ability to erase someone, and she just tanks the blow without getting effected.

hmmmm not actually far off, at least conceptually? Servo is just like any other mech, she can die or be injured or fall prey to whatever supernatural nonsense happens this week. i really do mean it when i say she's an ordinary background character in SNAP's plotline. but, the "canon" story for SNAP isn't all that's going on in the universe, and isn't even the only story that could play out. Servo just happens to be a normal dude who, in one reality, got tangled up with some pretty significant reality-bending events and thus she is something of a staple in every single timeline

even her name is a self-fulfilling prophecy. the name "Servo" is roughly the in-universe equivalent of Mohammed or Jesús, being a religious name broadly relating to the Guiding Hand (which is in fact why the mechanical term "servo" refers to hands as well despite having nothing to do with them). she happens to have one of the most common names for mecha, but... somewhere, somewhen, she might have been the reason this name is common in the first place

heroes with any kind of funky alternate perception (i call it othersight) like Cyclonus often get confused when looking at her, bc why would someone so normal have such a tangled metaphysical presence?

[lucagray813]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: LEGO Monkie Kid Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Qi Xiaotian | MK & Zhu Bajie | Pigsy Characters: Qi Xiaotian | MK, Zhu Bajie | Pigsy (Monkie Kid) Additional Tags: Family, Fluff, Inspired by S5E1

Summary:

MK and Pigsy spend an evening reminiscing over a very important bowl of noodles.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Greetings and salutations and welcome to the FIRST EPISODE of what I’m calling

Bedtime Stories With PCE

Let me explain.

So I, like many other people, make up little stories in my head in my downtime, particularly when trying to fall asleep, and for the past year or so those stories have been South Park related, and wound up driving me to make an ao3 and actually write those stories down and curse the cyberspace with them, but the thing is, not all of my mental stories make it to even my notes, because I didn’t have the intention of writing them down. Either because they’re way too self indulgent and most people would be bored with lack of plot, or they’re just a continuation of an old Whumpshot that I think abt before bed, and I feel like if I were to put these bedtime stories out there it would be SUPER annoying, ESPECIALLY because

A lot of my little bedtime mental stories are OrangeJuiceVerse. Which is off putting enough as is, because I feel like while the series is all essentially stand alone stories that take place in the same universe, people look at a series with over 19 works and get overwhelmed because to be fair, that’s a lot even if most are oneshots. So I wanted to start a tumblr exclusive series, for the handful of people who would welcome the stuff I don’t feel confident enough to put on ao3, my little continuations to things that didn’t warrant a chapter 2 structurally, that kind of thing.

So, here’s the first episode! the most self indulgent couple thousand words of Stan taking care of an injured Kyle that I have ever done, following the events of Bicycle Lane , if ya read it lmk what you think, y’all know the drill, here

•covered•

Kyle woke up again without Stan beside him, and to to the noise of his phone ringing on the nightstand. Against his better judgement, he answered, already disgruntled at seeing the caller ID.

“Can I help you?” He grumbled.

Cartman’s grin was audible. “So you’re alive.”

Yep, this asshole would never learn to start a call like a normal person. “Why would you think I wasn’t alive, fatass?”

“Uh, because you look at least half dead in the picture your dildo sent?”

Kyle pulled the phone away from his face to open the ‘SP Survivors’ group, and groaned. Stan had sent a photo of Kyle, asleep with one arm draped over his eyes and the other holding Moose to his chest like a kid with a stuffed animal, and the caption was “Speak No Evil Take No Shit Broflovski won’t let a car take him out 🤘🏻”, which was definitely Stan’s attempt at calming himself by joking about the events of the day. Just without nearly enough context, naturally.

“I can’t believe he sent you guys that,” Kyle groaned.

“So you actually did get hit by a car?” Cartman’s tone took on that thinly veiled concern of his. “You hurt, bitch?”

Kyle rolled his eyes and glanced at the open bedroom door, pretty annoyed that he was starting to feel the ache in his body again now that he was fully awake, not to mention that he had woken up alone, but his boyfriend and cat were probably just downstairs. “I’m alright, jackass. Just banged up, but not bad.”

“Good, because if you died, the hippie would totally kill himself, and I plan weddings, not funerals.”

“That’s NOT fucking FUNNY, Cartman!!!”

He heard footsteps on the stairs after raising his voice. Thank God.

Cartman snickered. “Sorry, sorry, I think it is, though. Did you get a look at the license plate so you could sue the driver?”

“No, dude, it was fast as shit and they barely hit me anyway.”

“Traffic cams, idiot. You show the courts the picture of your battered little body, go to the er and milk it for all it’s worth, get a doctor to testify-“ of course Cartman was already scheming.

“I’m hanging up on you.”

“Not if I hang up on you first.” Then he added, “I’m glad you’re okay.” And dropped the call. Asshole always had to get the last word in.

Kyle laughed weakly and covered his eyes again, pulling his hand away only when he felt a tiny weight jump onto the bed. “Hi, little man.”

“Don’t know what world you’re in that’s got you calling me “little”, dude,” Stan joked, joining them.

Stan knew full well Kyle was talking to the cat. And he felt a thousand times better when Stan leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Hi, baby, you okay? When did you wake up from your nap?”

“Mm. Hi. A few minutes ago when Cartman called.”

Moose butted his little head against Kyle’s hand, looking to get pets. Stan smiled apologetically. “Yeah, sorry, dude, I figured the guys would call me for details since you were, like, asleep in the picture.”

“You know how Cartman is.” Kyle waited for Stan to get settled and then shifted himself so that his head was on his partner’s shoulder. “Did you have a panic attack while I was out? That why you went around telling the group that I faced off against a car?”

“Not a panic attack,” Stan assured him. “I just-I went to get our shit out of the truck and I was gonna start fixing your bike, and then I got to thinking about it again, what could have happened, you on the side of the road like that, you know.”

So definitely close to a freak out then. “Poor Stan.” Kyle placed a hand over Stan’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. “I’m okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

“You’re gonna stay that way,” Stan declared, his voice sounding like he did when he got really into a cause, like last year when he recruited Kyle’s ever eager to protest something mother for an anti-seaworld campaign. “Because I’m gonna nurse you back to health and never let anything happen to you again.”

Dramatic, cheesey, adorable, overprotective loser. Kyle snorted. “Nurse me back to health? What, am I a maiden who caught some mysterious illness and now must languish on the sitting room couch while my suitors bring me flowers? Is this a Jane Austen novel? What’s next, we have a dramatic kiss in the rain?”

The attempt to lighten the mood worked. Stan laughed and tenderly pressed his lips to his cheek.

“Sarcastic little fuck,” Stan chuckled. “Moose, I’m only giving your father a pass to be an asshole because he’s in pain and he’s cute.”

Moose had fallen asleep between them.

“Staniel, I have literally had worse, and so have you.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna baby you.”

He’d let Stan baby him, just a little, but only because he’d nearly had a full breakdown seeing Kyle hurt in the snow. Kyle would still pretend to argue against the coddling. “You better not-“

He was cut off by Stan’s phone vibrating with a FaceTime request from Kenny. Stan held it up with a grin.

“At least Ken has some sense.” He answered, and Kenny’s voice flooded forth.

“Stan the man! Show me the firefox!”

Kyle rolled his eyes at the nickname before Stan held his arms out farther to get them both in frame. “Hey, Ken.”

Marj popped into the screen too. “Kyle Broflovski! You’re tellin’ me you got hit by a car?! You better explain, mister.”

“I didn’t get hit by a car, it was more like a tap,” he insisted. “Driver didn’t even notice, it was so fast.”

Kenny gave a low whistle. “Still, though. Shit’s wild. You hurt bad?”

Stan handed him the phone so he could run his fingers through Kyle’s hair. Kyle showed his friends the bruise across his arm from trying to break the fall, which had developed into a blotchy purple over the past few hours.

“Gnarly, right? But it’s just some bruises and a twisted ankle. I’ll live. You guys tell Stan he doesn’t need to baby me.”

Marj laughed incredulously; Kenny grinned and shook his head. “That’ll be a sunny day in hell.”

“Huh?” Stan paused playing with Kyle’s hair. “Dude, the saying is cold day in hell.”

“Yes, but a lot of hell is actually cold, other than the lakes of fire and shit,” Kenny explained with that mischievous smile of his, like this should be common knowledge. “There’s no sun down there, though.”

Kyle was thoroughly confused, but his leg hurt and he needed to use the bathroom, so he didn’t ask for clarification. Plus even if he didn’t want to end the call, he’d learned that Kenny’s explanations for some of the stuff he said only confused you more.

He sighed. “I’ll take your word for it, man. Thanks for checking on me, guys.”

“Hey, we gotta keep an eye on each other, even if we went our separate ways,” Kenny said. “Can I draw a comic of you fist fighting Lightning McQueen?”

“He already started it,” Marj added.

Naturally. “Yeah, yeah, go for it. Love you guys.” He passed the phone back to his boyfriend.

“We’ll keep everyone updated,” Stan promised, like this was a life or death situation and not something that would have him laid up for two days, tops. “Bye, guys.”

“Peace.”

“Bye! Hope ya feel better!”

Kyle rolled his eyes again when Stan hung up. “Dude, should I be expecting a call from my mom next?”

Stan chuckled. “Nah, I figured you’d obliterate me if I told her.”

“And you were correct.” Because that would result in not only a three hour call, but also Sheila driving up so she could smother him. Kyle sat up slowly, irritated to discover that his back was stiff now too. “Bathroom quest,” he mumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He didn’t push away Stan’s arm around his waist either.

“Easy, easy.” Stan helped him up, warm and gentle as ever. “Can you put any weight on it?”

When he did, it didn’t feel great, admittedly. The bruises on the outside of his calf from the car grazing him ached with the weight at standing, his ankle was pretty sore, and his knee felt stiff. But it was for sure more annoying than, like, agonizing or something, so he gave Stan’s arm a comforting squeeze.

“It’s not that bad.” But he figured he’d let his partner take care of him if he wanted, because Stan had been really fucking scared this afternoon, and Kyle knew he needed this. “You can help me, dude, just don’t try to hold me up while I piss or something.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Stan said with a smile, helping him walk carefully across the hall. “You got it?”

“Yes, honey, I got it.” Kyle sighed when he shut the bathroom door. Ignoring the sting of the abrasions on his palms when he braced his hands on the counter, he studied his reflection.

If he was completely honest, reality was finally starting to set in. He hadn’t fully accepted until Cartman mentioning funerals that, well, he could have died. Kyle could keep it together for Stan’s sake, but it was starting to get to him too. If that car had been going any faster, if they’d been a few inches closer, if he hadn’t been wearing his helmet, if he’d been knocked into oncoming traffic rather than into the ditch…

Kyle quickly peed and limped back over to the sink to wash his hands. There was cat hair stuck to the bandaid on his right hand, which helped a little to see. He was okay now. He was at home with his sweet blue eyed boys, both of whom would be ridiculously affectionate, but right now, seeing the (well tended) scratch at his hairline in the mirror, the gravity of everything kept tugging at him.

Can’t panic right now, Kyle told himself. He was a damn middle school counselor, had been for a couple months, and he had grown up with what he now knew was generalized anxiety (thank you, psychology degree). He knew the signs of a ‘what if’ spiral and when it was more helpful to “play the movie” or focus on the present.

Chronologically organizing where he’d been versus where he was now was an exercise his therapist during outpatient in high school had taught him, to contextualize progress and the order of events, keep out of the spiral of hypotheticals. Okay.

He’d ridden to the library down the road when Stan went to the gym, because his boyfriend was trying to get back into a routine of self care since coming out of a depressive slump and working out reminded him that he was alive. Kyle’s library mission was to find more book recommendations for his students that were a little more recent than his personal favorites, and he’d started the ride home with a decent list of YA novels and a few authors to research for the next time a kid was sent to his office not feeling engaged. He had been particularly excited to revisit the Inheritance series and order some paperbacks for his desk library that students who just needed some quiet time could choose from when there was a *vrzroom!* and he was flying off his bike, immediately pissed.

Not scared, not upset. Pissed.

Which was the whole reason Kyle didn’t drive unless he really needed to; because he got awful road rage when other drivers were fucking stupid. So, yeah, his first reaction was to be mad upon landing in dirty snow and seeing that his bike was definitely not in good enough shape to ride home and neither was he. His second reaction was to call Stan, and then call him again when the first time went to voicemail, because Stan would always rescue him if he needed it.

Another thing that had him mad was that while only a few cars had passed during this time, someone should have stopped. It’s that whole “oh no, someone else’ll help” hive mind mentality. Kyle was that person who stopped if he saw someone in trouble. So was his boyfriend.

God, Stan had been so visibly close to a full breakdown there in the beginning. Kyle got it now.

With one more mental reminder to stay in the here and now, Kyle pulled open the door and let Stan pick him up.

“Baby, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Stan said gently. Yeah. He was safe. Stan had him.

“Mm okay.” He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring himself or Stan. Probably both. “I think I just need some water.”

“Here.” Stan set him back on the bed and grabbed the massive “Ass Pro Shops” tumbler (another Kenny custom job) from the nightstand. Ice cubes clinked inside, which made Kyle’s heart ache with fondness; Stan had refilled his water while he was sleeping.

Moose settled himself back on Kyle’s chest after Kyle set the cup down. Stan sat on the mattress, carefully pulling Kyle’s legs into his lap. He was wearing one Breaking Bad sock and the other had Godzilla on it, and Kyle felt the back of his eyes burn again, because he was just so fucking cute, with that worried expression and the stupid mismatched socks and the Fall Out Boy shirt that was tight in the shoulders but he’d been too awkward to tell the Hot Topic employee she’d grabbed the wrong size when he bought it. And Kyle actually did almost cry at his partner’s broken murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, dude, hey. No, why are you sorry?”

“I- I missed your call, you could’ve-“

“Stan, I’m okay.” He was okay. “We’re not doing this again, sweetheart, I’ll be good as new soon; yeah I’m a little beat up, but gimme a few days and I’ll be back to normal.”

Once again, he was saying that just as much for his own sake. And he definitely wouldn’t tell Stan about Cartman’s comment regarding Stan killing himself if Kyle died. Absofuckinglutely not. But really, he WAS alright. Stan took a deep breath and smiled that dimpled smile down at him. That was a ‘fake it till you make it’ smile, for sure, but they’d make it.

“I’m gonna check on this, okay?” Stan said, the worry still present behind his eyes as he slipped his finger under the tucked in edge of the bandage halfway up Kyle’s shin. “Been a couple hours. You should probably take something too.”

Kyle nodded. If the color of the bruise on his arm was any indication, his leg was definitely gonna be gross. “Just don’t get freaked out if it looks crazy, dude. You know my pale ass skin shows bruises really hardcore.”

“I know, I just wanna make sure there’s not a hematoma going on or something.”

Between Kyle’s year of premed before switching to psych and Stan’s degree in veterinary science, they had a pretty solid understanding of injuries. Yeah, both of them would deny the extent of how bad off they were, but they had enough knowledge to know when the other was hurt bad enough to get some professional help.

They weren’t going to need professional help, Kyle determined, watching his partner unwrap his leg. It hurt a little more without the compression, but the mottled bruising on the side wasn’t raised, just dark.

Still, though, Stan looked upset, gently holding the slight puffiness at Kyle’s achilles and trailing a hand up the contusions to support his calf. “Dude, your poor leg,” Stan whined, “That looks really painful, Ky.”

“Looks worse than it feels,” Kyle reminded him. “I’m just white as shit and can’t even run into the kitchen counter without getting a bruise.”

Stan cracked an actual smile again, definitely remembering the time Kyle had whacked his hip on the counter and later that night hadn’t noticed until Stan interrupted Super Best Spicy Time to go “JESUS! DID I JUST DO THAT?!”. Always worried too much, that one. Not that Kyle wasn’t the same way, but still.

Stan carefully felt around his kneecap. “Is this aggravated too? You twist it at all?”

“It’s okay.”

“Alright, baby, just tell me if you need me to find your brace.”

Kyle nearly laughed, because even if Stan had trouble keeping track of most things sometimes, he knew exactly where all the medical supplies were. He wouldn’t have to “find” anything; the first aid kit was under the sink, knee brace in the top of the closet, diabetes supplies in the third drawer in the bathroom, melatonin, vitamins, cold meds, and ibuprofen in the bathroom medicine cabinet. Speaking of, the bottle of painkillers was currently on the nightstand; one of those instances of Stan thinking ahead. Kyle reached over and shook out a few while Stan gently started wrapping his ankle, swallowing the pills dry.

Stan looked up with disgust. “Dude! Are you a fucking snake?! Your water is literally right there, don’t do that in front of us!”

“Sssssss.” Kyle laughed when Stan didn’t find him hissing funny and Moose gave him the side eye. “Why do you get so grossed out when I do that?”

“Because it’s weird!” Stan stopped his ‘medic duties’ to throw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Most people can’t swallow like that. I can’t.”

In all actuality, Kyle mostly took meds dry to get a rise out of his boyfriend, who was godawful at taking any kind of medicine and complained about the taste of any liquid cough syrup but had to literally swallow pills in food, like he was a puppy.

“So we’re talking about “swallowing” now, are we?” Kyle was definitely a fan of anything he could use to segue them into a lighter mood, even a sex joke. Kenny would be proud.

Stan shook his head, but grinned, going back to his self appointed task. “Why is it that you always get flirtier when you’re hurt?”

“Because your goddamn knight in shining armor complex is hot,” Kyle answered, wincing a little at the bruises being touched but completely endeared at Stan cradling his lower leg with careful hands and lightly kissing the top of the bandage when he was finished wrapping him up.

“Thought you hated the white knight routine,” Stan teased.

Kyle pulled him down to kiss him. “I like it when it’s warranted,” he murmured against Stan’s mouth. “You’re cute.”

“You’re still gonna complain about it.”

“Mm, you know me so well.”

Then Moose *mrowed* in protest from between them at not getting attention too, and Kyle laughed. “We’ve annoyed the creature.”

Stan picked the little brown cat up and kissed his tiny face. “What, young nastyman? You bored? Wanna watch Animal Planet?”

More like Stan wanted to watch Animal Planet. Kyle rolled his eyes and sat up, reaching for his adopted son. “Did you get fed, beasticle? Want a treat?”

“Oh he got his favorite,” Stan assured him. “And extra treats because someone’s upset that his father got banged up by a stupid driver.”

Moose let himself be cradled against Kyle’s chest, purring like a lawn mower. “Baby boy,” Kyle cooed, rocking the cat a little. They’d only gotten Moose a few months ago, when Stan was volunteering at the animal shelter before working up the courage to actually apply at the vet clinic, and their fur child had quickly become a staple in their lives. And Moose was a really chill cat, just the sweetest thing. “You and your dad don’t need to worry about me.”

“We’re gonna,” Stan pointed out. “So, the critter’s been fed, but we haven’t. Whatcha feeling?”

Ugh. Yeah. Food was a thing. Kyle tended to get nauseous when he was stressed, but he knew damn well the nausea also came from not eating. Still, though, nothing sounded particularly appealing. “Whatever you want, dude. I don’t have much of an opinion tonight.”

Stan clearly didn’t like that answer. “Baby…”

“Just make what you feel like and summon me when it’s ready.”

“You should stay lying down,” he insisted.

“You know I don’t like eating in bed.” That was part of the hang up too. Dinner involved getting up, and moving would remind him that he wasn’t at 100%, which would stress him out more, because he had work the day after tomorrow and needed to be all good for stopping hallway fights, and crumbs were gross to sleep on which would make it even harder to drift off than it usually was.

“And I don’t like you not eating.” Stan could be just as stubborn as himself sometimes. “I’m gonna doordash something that isn’t messy, and we’re eating in bed, and I’ll wash the sheets.” Standing up with a determined expression, Stan caught Kyle’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Give me a moment, melda târ, I have an idea.”

He hurried down the stairs, and Kyle felt himself scowling, definitely not wanting to acknowledge that if he was this pissy this fast, even with Stan being adorable, his sugar was dropping, and like hell was he gonna check. Which also meant his partner was right, and he did need to check. It had been a good five or so hours since lunch.

“God fucking…” in the 70s, which was far from the worst he’d seen from himself, but not great. No wonder he’d suddenly plummeted into a mood. Moose made a little squeak.

“Yeah, your dad’s right. I gotta eat.”

Stan triumphantly announced his presence back in the room with a “let’s fuckin’ gooooo”, precariously balancing a pint of ice cream, two spoons, a glass of cheap wine and a can of miller lite. “Bed picnic ice cream date while we decide!”

The enthusiasm was so sweet. Stan was trying really hard to cheer him up and make sure he didn’t let getting hurt be an eating disorder trigger. That was something Stan never stopped worrying about. For real, the calorie count on the ice cream container was crossed out, even though that whole ordeal had been like six years ago. Stan Marsh, the most adorable man on the planet, who had brought the only thing in the house that wouldn’t leave crumbs in the bed, and the only thing that sounded good. Fuck, he loved him.

Kyle managed a smile and accepted the ice cream. “Dude, yes. I didn’t even know what I needed.”

Stan sat down beside him and propped them both against the headboard, one arm around Kyle, who was starting on the ice cream (Stan had grabbed the vanilla instead of the chocolate chip, probably in case Moose started begging for some), and the other going for the remote to start finding something to watch.

“You always have an opinion, babe. If you don’t, that probably means something’s up,” Stan said simply. “Figured with that and if you haven’t eaten in a while, you were starting to drop, right? You check?”

“I’m… on the lower side,” Kyle admitted, and fuck, that ice cream tasted like a video game health potion. “Why ice cream?”

Stan selected the first episode of The Last Of Us, and sporting that dimpled grin of his, grabbed a spoonful. “You crave sweet things when you’re upset or hurt, and ice cream never fails to kickstart your appetite. I know you better than I know myself, dude.”

And that went the other way around, too. Kyle sighed and let his head drift to Stan’s shoulder, watching as his boyfriend scrolled through the list of food options.

“You feel like a sandwich?”

“I mean, I feel like a Stan, but-“ Stan cut off with a laugh when Kyle nudged him. “Yeah, yeah baby, you want grilled cheeses from that diner on the square?”

“Mhm. Just put in the order notes for them to leave the condiments out of the boxes so they don’t get covered in fry grease.”

Stan kissed him lightly on the forehead before taking a sip of his beer, grinning around the lip of the can.

“Why are you making that face, Stanathan?”

“Just… there you are.” Stan finished placing the order and wrapped both arms around him. Moose sniffed at the abandoned ice cream container while his humans held each other. “You’re here. You’re okay. And you’re feeling good enough to make requests on the packaging on a food order.”

“I mean, it’s kind of off putting when your ketchup cups are all slimy because they were in the same container with the fries that just got pulled out of the oil, plus the grease smell is gonna linger in the bedroom after anyway, so might as well minimize the stain risk, and- *mnh*!”

The kiss that Stan stopped him with tasted like vanilla, and that distinct taste that was all his own. His Stan; his hero when he needed help, the one who Kyle swore could read his mind sometimes. The man who was so gentle when he was injured but so strong if someone he cared about was threatened. Stan, who was a massive dork at the same time he was the coolest person Kyle knew. “Luck” didn’t begin to cover it.

But Stan had him covered.