#fic: making assumptions

[snickerdoodlles]

Kinn slaps his thighs, breaking the tension. "I want food now, do you want food? I can make stringy eggs."

Kim blinks. It takes him twenty seconds too long to process that, but Kinn just waits for him patiently. "What the fuck are stringy eggs?"

"What eggs turn into after I poach them."

Kim blinks again. "You're offering me failed poached eggs?"

"I'm leaning into it." Kinn beams at him, feet tapping eagerly. "Want some? I've gotten pretty good. Porsche even says he almost likes them now."

Kim stares. Kinn's still beaming at him. "...Yeah, alright."

Kinn's beaming glows brighter.

(Stringy eggs, for the record, taste fucking awful. Kim should've known to never trust Porsche's opinion. He puts Kinn on his building register so they can have them again next week.)

#kinnporsche #fic: making assumptions #i swear im writing it im just a) slow and b) constantly distracted writing the end bits with ALL the brothers #kimchay reconciliation my beloved but kim & kinn reconciliation my HEART #fell and tripped a bit into kinn's b-plot here but oh my god i love it so much

[hbdttg]

“Hold the elevator!”

The elevator doors are mere inches from closing, but Steve dutifully shoots a hand out to stop them. They slide back open, revealing a flustered-looking man about Steve’s age on the other side.

He’s dressed head to toe in black, decked out in a simple black pullover with a modest V-neck, snug black jeans, and all-black leather Chucks with a messenger bag slung across his chest. The messenger bag is, unsurprisingly, also black, but covered in a collection of tough-looking patches and pins in varying shades of—well, it’s mostly red, dark red, white, and some yellows, but the pops of color still stand out against his otherwise monochrome ensemble.

His dark, curly hair reaches a little past his shoulders and he’s got this frankly outdated fringe that, despite its very 80’s vibe, frames his face perfectly. His eyes are large and expressive, and he’s got this frantic energy about him that reminds Steve of a live wire. He’s nothing like the buttoned-up suits Steve usually shares his elevator rides with each morning, and it’s a refreshing change of pace.

The man gives Steve a thankful look before stepping into the elevator and leaning against the side wall. “Thanks,” he says, a little distractedly. He’s got a pair big of headphones on and Steve realizes he’s in the middle of a phone call when he adds, “No, not you, Gare, I was thanking the guy who held the elevator for me. Yeah, this building’s crazy. There’s a whole-ass sixtieth floor—guess I’m kind of a big deal now.” He lets out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, reaching for the panel beside him.

As the doors close and the elevator starts to slowly ascend, Steve notices the man pressed the button for the floor above his. Both the fifty-second and fifty-third floor buttons are lit in a halo of green.

“You know I didn’t want to leave you guys,” the man continues, a bit more quietly now that he and Steve are sharing the same small space, “but shit, I couldn’t turn down the pay.” He scoffs. “Ugh, listen to me, just another cog in the capitalist machine. Man, if high school me could see me now. High school Eddie used to talk big about forced conformity and rising up against the man, and now here I am—”

Steve tries not to listen to the one-sided conversation going on beside him, but it’s difficult when a moment later, he hears his own name.

“—clocking in for my first day at fuckin’ Harrington Hargrove Hagan. The pretentious bastards can’t even shorten it to an acronym or something. God forbid they have to miss out on the sound of their own names.”

Steve manages to hold in the obnoxious snort that threatens to escape him. He’s starting to think he might like this guy—Eddie, his mind supplies helpfully—but Eddie’s next words have him freezing in place.

“And it’s nepo baby central. Yeah, pretty sure all the H kiddies are hotshot brokers with the company. All the biggest accounts—gee, I wonder why.”

Steve can feel the back of his neck burning hot with a mixture of annoyance and shame as Eddie cracks a caustic joke about silver spoons and trust funds.

“You’re kidding, one of them works at this branch? Damn, I guess I’ll just keep an eye out for the guy who most looks like he’s got a giant stick up his ass.”

This is quickly becoming the longest elevator ride of Steve’s life. He grits his teeth and stares fixedly at the floor display panel above the elevator doors, watching the numbers climb higher and higher. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

“Listen, I should go, but let’s grab a drink at the Hideout later. Cool, see you then. Bye.”

Forty-one. Forty-two.

Eddie removes his headphones and shoves them into his bag, angling slightly toward Steve. “Sorry about that, man.”

“You’re good,” Steve says shortly, not looking away from the changing numbers. They reach the forty-seventh floor, and all the while, he feels Eddie’s gaze on him.

It’s not like he’s openly staring, but there’s a certain weight to his furtive glances that completely counteracts his attempts at subtlety. It’s the type of gaze Steve’s familiar with, one that he’s been on the receiving end of since his sophomore year of high school when he hit a growth spurt and actually learned how to style his hair. Assessing. Appreciative. Interested.

And in any other situation, Steve would gladly engage. He’d turn on the charm, quirk the corner of his lip up in that way Robin always rolls her eyes at but reluctantly acknowledges as ‘passably effective’, and maybe even make up an excuse to sidle a bit closer.

But he’s not giving this guy his A-game.

Instead, Steve waits in stifling silence until the fifty-second floor is announced and the doors slide open. He steps forward to exit, but at the very last moment stops in the doorway.

He initially wasn’t going to say anything—though, a past version of himself would have definitely spat something biting and bitchy to Eddie about his snark, would have snootily told him to take his little assumptions and shove them where the sun don’t shine—but sooner or later Eddie’s going to realize he and Steve are colleagues, and he’s going to remember shit-talking him in an elevator on his first day of work, and it’s going to be awkward and uncomfortable.

Steve’s just speeding up the timeline, pushing for the sooner rather than the later, when he decides to spin around and fully face Eddie.

“I think you pressed the wrong button,” he says, all sweet and helpful like he’s talking to Dustin’s mom over a sink full of soapy dishes. “Couldn’t help but overhear that you work at Harrington Hargrove Hagan. It’s on the fifty-second floor, not the fifty-third.” Then he takes a small step backward, moving out into the carpeted hallway.

“Oh.” Eddie scrambles for his phone, unlocking it and scrolling quickly until he finds something that has him straightening up and smiling gratefully at Steve. “I guess I remembered it wrong. Thank you.” He pushes away from the wall, takes a step forward to follow Steve out, but then stops dead in his tracks.

Steve gleefully notes the line of Eddie’s gaze, how it lingers at the breast pocket of his shirt, where, clipped to a retractable badge reel, his building keycard hangs. Eddie evidently hadn’t noticed it during the elevator ride up, but he’s certainly fixated on it now.

Perhaps on the abstract yet easily recognizable Harrington Hargrove Hagan logo in the top right corner.

But more likely, based on the positively mortified look growing on Eddie’s face, on the name clearly printed underneath Steve’s photo in bold, black lettering: STEVE HARRINGTON.

Slowly, Eddie drags his eyes back up to Steve’s face. He stares in silence, eyes bugging nearly out of his head, face turning a concerning shade of pink, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and his reaction is extreme enough that a small part of Steve is almost inclined to take pity on the guy and laugh it all off.

Unfortunately for Eddie, a bigger part of Steve thinks Eddie looks kind of cute all red-faced and embarrassed like this. So he glances down at himself thoughtfully before turning his attention back on Eddie. “Wow,” he says with exaggerated astonishment, “now that you mention it, I guess I do look like I’ve got a giant stick up my ass.”

As if on cue, the elevator chimes in warning. The doors begin to close, but Eddie just remains rooted in place with that same wide-eyed, horrified expression.

When it becomes clear he has no intentions of actually exiting the elevator, Steve chuckles and wiggles his fingers in a cheeky little wave. “Welcome to the team,” he says airily, before Eddie’s still-blushing face disappears behind the elevator doors.

/ Now with a Part 2!

#stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #modern office au #corporate steddie au #eddie's in IT #HHH is a commercial real estate firm #but steve's not a hotshot broker he's literally just a guy who makes copies all day or some shit #i personally just want to see all of eddie's baseless assumptions shattered as he gets to know steve #fic writing #hbd #actually i've never read a corporate steddie fic before so if anyone has any recs i'd love to hear them

[erisenyo]

Another early @zukki-week entry that could alternately be for domesticity, 'there was one one bed,' and 'wait, we're dating?' Featuring gift-giving as a love language, meeting the parents without realizing it, that found family vibe, and the trials and travails of having a pair of very touchy best friends.

[“It’s perfect,” Suki breathes, grabbing Zuko’s hand and giving it a heartfelt squeeze before turning to Sokka and pulling him into a kiss that Zuko imagines involves way more tongue than their first. Not that he’s imagining anything, of course.] OR, Sokka, Suki, and Zuko navigate being together through long distances and tough jobs, working their way to something solid and sure one anniversary, special occasion, and reunion at a time. If only Zuko knew that's what was happening.

#Alternate premise - Suki's very earnest desire to make Zuko comfortable vs her own assumptions about his twitchiness #fic writing #my writing #atla fic #Zuko #Sokka #Suki #Zukki #Sukka

[crispyjenkins]

(AC wip) The Savage Price of Piety

it's desmond's deathday and i wrote like. 9,000 more words to this wip (first two parts here) last week and i want to brag about it, so happy deathday you wet bastard (mostly gen but with a surprise rarepair, time travel/reincarnation, found family, william miles’ a+ parenting, accidental subterfuge, desmond goes by miles mostly, inspired by study of flight by @esamastation but with a twist!, only somewhat historically accurate swears by which i mean probably not at all but leonardo had some Opinions alright) have some (three) chronological but scattered bits of scenes

  “Oh,” Claudia says as soon as she opens the door, seeing Ezio’s rather wretched expression, “you’ve figured it out, then.”

  “You could have told me,” he growls, following her into the entryway and closing the door behind himself. 

  Claudia scoffs, spinning on heel to lead the way further into the building for the kitchens. “I had one conversation with the boy, brother, I was hardly sure of it myself. Wait,” she halts and points a finger at him accusingly, “how did you figure it out?”

  Ezio, quite graciously he thinks, ignores the subtle insult to his intelligence. Sighing, he pushes back his hood before their mother sees him with it on indoors, and runs a hand over his beard. “I had Leonardo visit.”

  Claudia’s face slackens, before twisting into a rage that has Ezio stepping away warily.

  But she punches the wall instead of her brother, a shouted “Gods damn it!” echoing in the narrow space. Then she spins on her heel and hollers further into the residential part of the bordello, “Mother! We forgot about Leonardo!”

  Horrified by his sister and concerned for his mother’s current mental state, Ezio reaches out to put a hand on Claudia’s arm, but he doesn’t get the chance before Maria de' Auditore is shouting right back, “God damn it!”

  Grumbling, Claudia stomps down the hall and leaves a very confused Ezio hurrying to follow; she ignores all his pleas for explanation until she’s stomped into the kitchen, where their mother is pouring two very large glasses of wine, with very little water to cut down the potency. She passes one to Claudia silently, and then they both drink, though luckily they aren’t attempting to down it all at once.

  “I can’t believe we forgot the Maestro,” their mother mutters to herself as she comes over to kiss Ezio on both cheeks, before shoving the still mostly-full glass into his hands.

  “Forgot him for what?” Ezio wants to know, clutching the glass like a mother clutches a babe.

  “To test if Miles really is an Auditore.” It’s said so flippantly, like it doesn’t affect Claudia at all, but she also collapses into one of two chairs at the little tea table under the largest window. Their mother takes the other, massaging her forehead and looking like she’s grieving their family all over again.

  It occurs to Ezio, as he moves to stand next to the table, that she probably is.

--

“It’s all up to you now, Seventeen.”

  Desmond opens his eyes to the dark of the dormitory, faint moonlight cutting over the floor between his bed and Nino’s, and he can’t bring himself to move — even to roll off his arm that is very much still asleep. 

  Clay still haunts him.

  Five hundred fucking years, and his current twenty-four besides, and that fucker still won’t leave him alone. If Desmond were not so familiar with what an actual Bleed feels like, he’d almost think Clay is stuck in his brain the same way as his ancestors. Thank fuck he stopped Bleeding Ezio’s memories and feelings, while still retaining much of the training.

  Fuck, time travel is so weird.

  Or, reincarnation? He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure he was dead, he’s sure he burned, and he’s sure that though his 15th century mother had affectionately called him [redacted], his name is Desmond Miles.

  Or just Miles, he supposes. Sue him, he panicked when Adele first approached him, and the best aliases are ones you know you’ll respond to, right? If only he’d have had the forethought to divorce himself from his... future family’s surname.

  It sounds different enough with an Italian accent that it hasn’t caused any problems, yet. Like making him flinch. Or snapping that he hasn’t been a Miles since he was sixteen.

  Granted, he still has no idea what he would go by instead. Altaïr and Conner would feel weird, while Sef or Darim are just a bit on the nose, and does he look like an Edward? Malik, maybe. His grandmother here, now, is actually from the Levant, so his skin is certainly dark enough that people wouldn’t be surprised by the name.

Except that feels almost akin to naming himself Leonardo.

--

  So instead, Leonardo spends every spare moment with his best friend, sometimes to brainstorm, sometimes to simply be there for him. It’s during one of these visits, he and Ezio once again observing the youngest assassins in the training ring, that he hears Miles laugh for the first time, and it’s as if ice water has been poured directly into his veins.

  Oh fuck. Oh Saints, oh Holy Father, oh fuck.

  “Leonardo?” Ezio asks quietly, head tilted towards him in concern, but Leonardo ignores him to stumble for the bannister to lean over it and stare down at Miles learning a little jig from Tullio, laughing all the while.

  He had only heard it once, truth be told, and it had been Salaí that had caused it, but even three years later, Leonardo remembers the laugh of Rodrigo Borgia’s sinister little shadow.

  Below, Miles doesn’t stop smiling, but his golden brown gaze yanks up towards Leonardo as if knowing his thoughts are about him. His eyes narrow, then widen slightly in realisation, and then he winces and looks away, which is all the confirmation Leonardo needs.

  Turning around, Leonardo grabs a confused Ezio by the arm and drags him from the training room, ignoring his protests until they find the nearest empty room.

  “Leonardo, what—?”

  “Romulus.”

-

#that last one 👀 #the first one is part of my sib's favorite scene so far #middle one is just des being a Mess #crispy writes #also #absolutely do NOT think about the timeline i beg u #i am gay and Tired #savage price #that'll be the tag for all posts about this fic #if i do end up posting more #anyway the other posts are now tagged with it too #not star wars #for those that filter on my blog #title from poor isaac by airborne toxic event! #which was my 2nd most-listened-to song this year #yoinking some tags from the last posts: #this whole fic is based on the trope of time travel des not knowing how to lie for shit and people making assumptions (à la study of flight #except their assumptions turn out to be mostly right #des isn't ezio's kid tho 👀

[un-pearable]

i know it’s been years and it’s basically irrelevant now but i genuinely love the green ninja prophecy if only for how much it must have tortured wu and garmadon. how long have they known it!! how did they find it, this script dooming them to forever be on opposing sides!! by the time morro rolls around, wu's spent most of his adult life with this looming over his head - this threat that there's some great evil out there that even their father didn't prevent, and then his brother leaves and adopts the very title that the prophecy foretold against. and then a ridiculously powerful elemental practically falls into his lap, with an uncanny command of his element without even unlocking his true potential, and with another threat already on the horizon (the serpentine) and the rest scattered (not to be brought together until years later), that was all he could do. it's been at minimum decades, at most centuries of the two of them having to carry this burden over their heads - of garmadon succumbing and of this unknown dark lord attacking. when do you think they made the connection. the wrong connection sure, but it makes sense. and it makes sense that years later, after wu is proven wrong and his brother returns to him and his son leaves him, and after his brother threatens to leave him again, he'd work backwards. collect the elementals, rebuild what he can of an alliance, and hope he's proven wrong again. and then kai steals his bag by accident and the rest is history.

#text✨ #ninjago #is normal (is thinking about ninjago season one in TWENTY TWENTY THREE) #sorry yeah this is just building on/restating the last post i just made however: wu is fascinating #and these brothers are SO fucked up i love exploring it. this is w/o my personal hcs for how this whole thing shaked out bc THOSE #are being saved for a fic for my spinjitzu bros collection. #hot damn do i need to read those books. they torment me (the brothers spinjitzu doomed from unknown mystical creation) #whether or not the prophecy is well used or makes sense in hindsight i love it as a plot device. hell yeah hang over those demigods heads #like a noose. hell yeah tragically shape the entire narrative and the lives of entire families just bc people don't know how to reach. just #bc they made the wrong assumption and got their child killed. just bc they wanted so badly to be important and almost got their #soon-to-be brother killed. this thing is a fire hazard

[echo-rambles]

love don't know how to rest

words: 2,679 summary: a quick phone call with your boyfriend chan turns into a mini vent session. tags: swearing, established relationship, long distance relationship, minor argument, fluff, making up note: this started off as me clowning on chan's new hair because as much as I love him I was not a fan of it when I initially saw it. somehow it turned into a weird little vent thing about missing someone and wishing they'd take better care of themselves. (title from how to rest by the crane wives)

-o0o-

“Hey baby.” You immediately greet, answering your phone and then propping it up so your hands are free. 

Chan's face takes up the majority of the screen, and you get a close up of his forehead before he also seems to settle his phone somewhere. He hums in acknowledgment. 

You know for a fact he’s not trying to be rude, so you don’t worry too much about his non-greeting. Quickly looking at the time and doing the math, you speak up again. “Good morning. Have you just woken up?” It would be about 8am in Korea right now. 

“Hi- sorry I meant to say hi when you did.” It’s ok, you mumble, moving about the kitchen as you continue to make yourself dinner. Chan had messaged you only a few minutes ago, asking if you were busy and if he could call through. It wasn’t a very complicated dinner, mostly just heating up leftovers on the stove, so of course you told him to call. “I’ve been up since… six? Five maybe.” 

“Chan.” You chastise gently. Sending him a little look from your spot at the stove. He ducks his head, already giving you one of his smiles that spell an apology. 

“I know. I just- my brain hasn’t been able to shut off. I’m making the most of it until I end up crashing in the middle of the day.” 

“Light schedule?” You ask, already assuming the answer since otherwise he wouldn’t be able to so readily nap mid day. Chan makes a little agreeable noise. “That's good. And hey, if you don’t sleep at some point I can always ask Seungmin to smother you until you pass out. Forced nap time.” 

“That’s so fucked up.” But it gets him to chuckle, and that’s really what matters. “He’d do it too.” 

“Of course he would; I asked. Hey, nice hat by the way.” You lean close to your phone, squinting at the beanie he’s wearing. 

It makes Chan groan and push the beanie over his eyes for a brief second. “I'm trying to hide my hair, since someone hates it.” 

“I never said I hate it!”

“…you said it reminded you of straw.” 

Ok, so maybe you absolutely said something like that when you first saw his hair. It sort of just tumbled out of your mouth. “Because they bleached it all wrong! They killed your hair, Christopher. I was shocked, and distraught.” 

Chan shifts his beanie around, laying his hand flat on his head but never once taking it off. “I thought it would’ve come out better. I’ve been wanting to dye it-”

“I know, baby.” The teasing slips away from your tone, replaced by something more gentle and understanding. “But you gotta let your hair heal first before you fuck with it. Maybe let it grow out and dye it dark the next time you can? And then, once it’s no longer damaged as hell, you can do something fun. Like pink?”

Chan’s nodding along to your words, clearly watching you shut off the stove and shove all of your food into a bowl. He smiles at your suggestion. “One day you’ll get your pink hair dreams.” 

“We can match! It'd be so much fun. I think the world needs Pink Chan more than ever, really.” 

He hums instead of playing into the banter, hand still on his head, and you know that no matter how much you apologize for your initial reaction or how many jokes you make, the thought that he did something you don’t like is going to eat him up. Sighing, you bring the phone close to your face. 

“I think you look gorgeous no matter what, you know that right? I’ll tell you every single day until you believe me. Even with straw hair.” You lower your voice, trying to sound as solemn and as serious as you can. “Even if you were bald.”

“Bald?” His face goes all scrunched as he laughs, tipping his head out of frame and pressing a hand over his eyes. 

“Yeah. Shave it all off. Start from scratch.” You bring the phone and your bowl over to the couch, settling in. “I’m sure there’d be girls who would go crazy for the shaved look.”

“Should I be worried that you’re making sure I look good for other girls?” 

“Hey, listen, this is your job, and part of my job as the world's greatest girlfriend is to make sure you’re marketable to your audience.”

He’s still smiling, all big and soft and it loosens the knot of guilt in your chest. 

After a few minutes of the both of you falling silent, you eating and Chan just watching you, you finally speak up again. “I’m sorry for saying that stuff about your hair. I didn’t mean to sound so… mean.” 

“I know. I appreciate the apology though.”

“I just worry. Which is a shit excuse but- I don’t want them ruining your hair. I need you to take care of yourself, because I’m not there to do it!” 

“I know-”

“You take care of the boys and I take care of you because you refuse to let them do it; that’s always been the deal, but I’m not there so now no one is taking care of you-” 

“Love,” he cuts you off. Voice firm and commanding. “It’s just hair.” It’s your turn to mumble out an I know. “It’ll grow back. It can be fixed. I’m ok.” 

“I just wish I was there.” 

The silence creeps in again, and your food is growing cold. Every day you miss him, and the feeling just continues to grow and grow and you’re so afraid that it’ll get so big that soon you won’t have room for anything else. You need him to be ok, because if he’s not then… you’re not really sure what you’d do. 

“We take care of each other, yeah?” Chan says, making you snap your attention back to your screen. He must have pulled his phone closer to his face, and if this were any other moment you’d take the opportunity to snap a picture of the angle he chose, but since you feel all cold and serious in the pit of your stomach you instead just nod at his words. 

“Yeah-” 

“I don’t want you to ever feel like this is a one way street. It’s not your job to take care of me.” 

“I definitely don’t get paid enough for it to be a job.” The pit isn’t too cold or serious for you to deny yourself mumbling out a little quip. 

“We choose to look out for each other, yeah? I take care of you too. Don’t forget that.” Your little comment makes him smile. Just a tick of his mouth, but his whole face softens and you wish you could touch him right now. 

You want to be in his arms. Face pressed to his neck, where you can feel his pulse against the highest point of your cheek and his hands spread across your back and anchoring you. Long distance sucks ass. 

“I won’t. But sometimes-” You stop yourself, chew at your bottom lip and aggressively spear your food with your fork. “I worry that you’re so busy taking care of everyone else that sometimes you forget about yourself.”

“I’m guessing this has gone way beyond your feelings about my hair.” Chan tries to joke, but there’s still that underlying tone of his. The special one that only he can really get. It works it’s way under your skin. 

For a brief moment you think about leaving it there. Changing the subject. This was meant to be a relaxing phone call during a moment Chan had to breathe. He has a break and he chose to call you and all of a sudden you're just sort of dumping out all of these thoughts onto him over room temperature leftovers. 

But then you remind yourself that this is Chan. He’ll know if you’re trying to bottle something away. He always does. You joke that you know him, that he’s like an open book to you. This isn’t a one way street. He knows you just as well. 

Fuck it. Rip the band-aid off. 

“You look stressed. Overworked. Like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Oh wow, ok. Straight to the point.” 

“The only reason I know you’ve been eating is because Lino and Bin would probably force feed you before you ever went hungry. You just look exhausted and I know this is your job- I know you signed up for this. But it still breaks my heart sometimes when I can see you starting to strain under the pressure.” 

“I’m- I’m doing fine. It’s hard, yeah, but-”

“It’s worth it.” You finish his sentence, already knowing what he’s going to say because he always says the same thing. “I know. Why do you think it kills me that I can’t fucking be there? Because you work yourself to the bone and there’s no one around that’s willing to pull you away and force you to actually take care of yourself. The boys- I know they try, but they still see you as their leader. As their big brother. The things I do, the way I argue with you? No way they’d be willing to go that far. And I’m not trying to paint myself as this ultra special person but- jesus Chris, you can’t tell me that if, I don’t know; Felix tried to speak to you the way I do, you wouldn’t get upset.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are big and liquid and he’s listening to every single word out of your mouth. When you say his name, directly ask him a question, he’s blinking. Thinking about it. “No, you’re right.” 

Finally, you place your bowl on the coffee table, feeling like you need to get up and move or else you’ll probably start crying or something equally as embarrassing. God, it’s like all of these pent up emotions have just decided to spill out. Things you didn’t even realize you were upset about until now.

“Your hair honestly means nothing in the grand scheme of things. It’s hair, like you said. But it was something for me to tease you about- something small that I was upset about that I could actually comment on, when really all I’ve wanted to do these last few weeks is scream at you to slow the fuck down. No- I know what you’re going to say and I’m not talking about the company schedules. That’s your job. I’m talking about all of the extra hours I know you’re pulling because nothing feels perfect enough. All of those hours where you’re meant to be relaxing but instead you just work more because you feel like if you stop you’ll stagnate.”

Leaning away from his phone, Chan takes a deep breath. Puffs out his cheeks for a moment before releasing it all and then dragging both hands over his face. The beanie gets dislodged, and you see a shock of pastel yelloworange. It’s not even that bad. It looks cute on him. But it felt like some weird shock to your system when he showed it to you and you could tell he was unhappy with it. 

“What do you want me to say? It seems like you’ve covered all of the bases.” 

“I want-” You huff in frustration. “I don’t want you to say what you think I want to hear, ok? Never. We don’t do that to each other. I just want-” Again, you cut yourself off, not actually sure what you want. Not sure what the entire fucking point of this little rant has been. 

You take your built up tension and you make good use of it. Bringing your bowl to the kitchen and beginning to clean up the dishes while you listen to the way Chan sighs into the silence. There really isn’t anything for him to say. 

You can hear the way he tries to start a sentence at least twice, and you know that he’s frustrated that he can’t fix whatever this is. But there’s nothing to fix because nothing’s broken. You’re just kind of at the end of your rope and you just want your boyfriend close. Shutting off the sink and picking up your phone, you try to give him something close to a reassuring smile.

“Listen, I think I figured out what I want.” He looks at you, jaw working and eyes shining and you want to take his face in your hands and kiss him stupid. But you can’t have that, not right now. So you’ll have to settle with second best. “We take care of each other, yeah, absolutely, but that means you have to take care of yourself when I’m not around to do it. Because I’m thousands of miles away. I know it’s a big ask but can you please do that… for me?” 

“Yeah… yeah, I can do that. I’m sorry I made you worry.” 

“Baby, I don’t need an apology. I just want you to be healthy.” You’re quiet for a beat, watching the way his eyes flick down and away from his phone before skipping back to you. “And also for your hair to look different.” 

“Wow.” It gets him to laugh. It feels like a small victory. 

“I’m nothing if not consistent. And hey, I’m sorry too. For just- whatever that was. It was unfair to unload it all when you’re probably minutes away from being busy again.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for. Like, I do get why you’re sorry but I’ll always choose to listen to your problems. Especially if they include me, that way we can figure out how to fix it.” His soft smile is back, crinkling his eyes and making your lungs weak. 

Humming, you finally finish putting all of the dishes away. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” 

“I love you the most.” 

“I’m pretty sure I loved you before I knew you.” Chan says, smile stretching wider as he tilts his head like an adorable fucking puppy. 

You smile back, and it feels like sugar fills your mouth. “Ooh, that’s a good one.” 

It’s the same little game you always play after any sort of tense conversation. Trying to one up the other and having to concede when they say something that legitimately makes you melt. It’s a reminder that things are hard but you get through it. 

Hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter, you sigh. It’s a little dramatic, infusing just enough theatrics to keep the levity of the conversation. “Sometimes it really sucks that we both believe in healthy communication. I wish we were the type of couple to ignore things until the feeling goes away but really it just festers until we can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, right. We’re just too good at being a couple. It’s kind of boring actually.”

“That’s what I’m saying! You should tell me to shut the fuck up more often and I’ll… I don’t know, accuse you of cheating?”

“With who?”

“Lino?”

“Wow. Shut the fuck up!” He manages to say, between his breathless laughter.

“Yeah! See, you’re getting the hang of it already.” 

Things might not be solved, like at all, but you feel a little lighter. You spend the next ten minutes joking with Chan, and things feel like they settle back to normal. You’ll probably have to have this conversation again, with less tension and frustration. But that’s for later. When he doesn’t look so tired and has a block of free time to actually talk about it in depth.

You’re going to see him, soon. You hold on to that knowledge as tightly as you can. You’ll be there, with him, able to touch him and kiss him and tell him that all you want is for him to be happy. Maybe you can have this conversation again, in person. Where you can hold hands and crawl into his lap. Soon.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #echo writes #this is incredibly self indulgent #also i make some assumptions on how chan feels/how things work #anyway here's more self insert fic from me #because chan has bewitched me and caused me to write self insert for the first time ever

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

It had started because some people had misheard something Phantom said. One singular letter was responsible for the mess he was in right now.

They thought Phantom had said "Dad"

He had not, not this time at least, he was, admittedly, rather prone to accidentally calling Jack "Dad" because the man actually was. Though those moments were nothing compared to this.

It had spread like wildfire throughout the school, and then the city as a whole. Phantom had a dad, a dad who was visiting next week. That's what they knew, and theories and questions were already abound. Was Phantom's dad alive? Or dead too? What was their relationship like? Was this mysterious dad Phantom's blood (ectoplasm?) father? Or was Phantom adopted? How similar were they?

Dan just laughed at Danny over the phone when he tried explaining the situation to his older self before he came by to visit.

#danny phantom #i was going to make a proper fic but um. i couldn't choose a direction to go in with it. so heres just me writing down the concept ndksnsks #i just think Dan pretending to be Danny Phantom's dad would be really funny #obv they look similar. maybe people'll assume the DP logo is some sort of family symbol lol #honestly this could work post or pre agit. though the bit here is written as post #pretending not even necessary people could just assume. the “family drama” thatd ensue from a pre agit Dan who is Very Much trying to kill #would be very fun i think #and he'd most certainly play along if he was aware of the assumption #anyway daisybell stop making dp posts at midnight am to inevitably wake up and hate how they're worded challenge impossible

[nonbinary-eddie-munson]

I was thinking about how the run away with me au Robin and Steve "should we get divorced?" conversation comes about:

Theyre about 23 and Robin comes home in tears after another break up. The reason: Robin had asked her girlfriend of 8 months, Lorraine to move in with her and steve. Lorraine assumes this means steve is moving out and when Robin clarifys that no Steve is staying, he's an important part of her life theyre married for chists sake. Well Lorraine doesnt take that well, says she isnt going to spend her life playing second fiddle to Steve.

This isnt the first time a relationship had ended for either of them because a partner hadnt been able to accept that Steve and Robin were a package deal. Things had been especially rough for them romantically in the first couple years of their marriage. It wasnt until a particularly awful screaming match between Robin, Steve and Steves first real boyfriend, that they were able to admit their relationship was incredibly codependent and unhealthy. Steves boyfriend had been upset when Steve had cancelled on him for the 3rd time in a row because of a Robin Emergency™️ and decided to confront Robin about it while Steve was in class. Things escalated quickly when Steve came home early from class to find them arguing and immediately took Robins side. The argument and Steves relationship ended with a slammed door, a lot of tears and a new rift in Robin and Steves relationship.

It took a lot of long conversations with Carina and Marjorie, Steve working through his toxic masculinity enough to go see a therapist - He and Robin made a deal that theyd both go talk to someone about, you know almost dieing "do you think me being fucked up by what happened at starcourt makes me weak steve?" "No of course not!" "Well then why would it make you weak?" - and a summer spent apart (Robin taking an internship in rome to study latin) for them to sit down and have a long conversation about boundaries and ground rules for how they would navigate their relationship as well as dating in the future.

Steve and Robin agreed to both take a break from dating while they worked through their respective traumas, and figured out how to navigate their relationship in a healthy way. Things werent easy, the both of them occasionally backsliding into unhealthy behaviors, more than a few nights where one of them spent the night with Carina and Marjorie in order to have space from eachother. But eventually they get their shit figured out and decide to brave the world of dating again. Steve and Robin both have their share of flings and short lived relationships but nothing so far seemed to stick. That is until Robin met Lorraine.

Lorraine was funny, sweet and a little bitchy. They had immediately clicked after being introduced by some mutual friends from school. Robin really thought things with Lorraine were going to work out. Steve and Lorraine had gotten on like a house on fire, she had slipped into Robin and Steves dynamic easily, trading jokes and light hearted jabs, cooking breakfast together on days Lorraine would stay at their apartment. Robin had fallen hard and fast, she thought she had finally found someone who accepted that her and Steve were a package deal. So 8 months in when Lorraines lease was ending Robin (with agreement from steve) asked Lorraine to move in. Things don't go to plan. Robins dreams of a future with lorraine are shattered. She goes home broken hearted.

After Robin has cried herself out, her and steve cuddled together on the couch Steve is the one to broach the topic. Robin immediately bursts back into tears before he calms her back down again saying he doesnt want a divorce but he also doesnt want to hold Robin back, doesnt want to be the reason she cant find happiness. Robin replys by saying if anyone is holding the other back its obviously her, steve gave up everything to protect her afterall. Steve calls bullshit -years of therapy and he can finally say that word without cringing- says he would do it all again in a heartbeat, that she doesn't owe him anything. They stay up all night talking about it, about what the both of them want from their futures. Neither can see a future without the other. they're platonic life partners, one day they'll find their someones who can accept that and if not well, they'll always have eachother.

Of course they do find their someones in the form of a charming if infuriating metal head and a brilliant, sweet, and badass reporter. Through trial and error the four of them figure out how to navigate life together. They all live happy ever after.

Robin and Steve celebrate 30 years of marriage with divorce papers. They'll always love eachother but now they dont need a marriage to keep eachother safe. They dont need a marriage to stay as platonic life partners. They have eachother and they have Eddie and Nancy. They have everything they need.

-

Lmk what you think! I'd love to have someone to scream with about this AU and bounce ideas off of :D

Tagging by request <3 @ramyayaya

#i think steve and eddie find eachother infuriating in a good way and also a sexy way and i love that for them #i wrote this instead of sleeping #i'll actually turn this into a fleshed out fic i swear. i just happened to see a post talking about how a lot of fics make steve and robin #imcredibly codependent and started thinking about how i would handle that in my fic and decided to write out my ideas #i dont want it to come off as magically theyre perfect and okay. i think things would be messy in the beginning. and still a bit messy #even after bc theyre only human you know. i think having elder queers to talk to would be so important to them for helping them figure #things out you know #i think eddie and nancy wouldnt enter the picture until Steve and robin are 27/28 #im also still trying to figure out relationship dynamics bc the fruity 4 are in a polycule and how i think that would be for them #no matter which way you look at it the relationship between the 4 of them is inherently queer and thats beautiful #i hesitate to have eddie and nancy marry eachother in turn bc yknow heteronormativity #i think people assume theyre together and that eddie and nancy never confirm or deny why people make that assumption #but idk if they ever get married idk ill have to think about it #if you read this far in my tags feel free to hop in my dms and scream with me about this au #id love to have someone to bounce ideas off of #run away with me au #platonic stobbin #robin buckley #steve harrington #steddie #ronance #long post

[itsjaywalkers]

today?? i offer u making ghosts jeggy. tomorrow?? who knows.. (shout out to that making ghosts anon !! if you're seeing this.. this is for u <333)

“You do wanna fuck me,” Regulus insists in a grumble, the beginning of a pout pulling at his lips.  “But that isn’t the goal here, or what’s motivating my actions,” James retorts. “And you want to sleep with me too, so stop throwing it in my face like I’m the only one.” Regulus smiles, but it’s unamused. Icy. “I do,” he replies easily, letting his gaze fall down James’ body lazily before it comes back up. “I’m kinda curious if all that cockiness has something backing it up.” “Why don’t you come here and find out for yourself?” James taunts him with a cheeky grin.  The other man tries to hide it, he really does, but he’s too pale, and the soft pink dusting his cheeks is impossible to ignore.  “Propositioning to me, Potter?” Regulus sneers, leaning slightly over the table. “I wonder what Lily has to say about that.” What?

#rereading what i've written of ch 9 so far and this part was so funny to me #(they're literally arguing) #it's just #reg is always saying he doesn't care about james #that he doesn't like him even #outside of finding him physically attractive that is #but he hears that lily has a soft spot for him #and suddenly he's making assumptions🤔 #and getting petty over them🤔 #like believe me lily and james aren't together #but so what if they were huh regulus #why does it matter #why do YOU care #he's so silly #they both are #i love the pining arc #fic: making ghosts

[dimidarling]

A while ago I made my best interpretation from memory/assumption of a relationship chart for castleaudios’ Glenwood universe because I love it soooooooo much and was trying to explain some of the characters to a friend, and I realized it’s really hard to explain LOLL so I thought I’d post it for the Glenwood season 1 recap occasion since I’m about to get into the video!

[CW for series spoilers on this chart if you haven’t listened to it btw]

#this series is so easy to get fixated on its sooo good #if u guys like audio stories and reader/listener insert stuff and supernatural shenanigans hit it up !!! #I don’t asmrpost much bc I tend to enjoy it in my own little world but my friends knowwww how bonkers I’ve been abt glenwood #I have fic wips and everything I’m trying to get some of them to listen but #it’s hard (and I love and respect them for it. BUT. BUT.) #anyway I spend too long making this so I figured I’d post cause it seems like there’s a little fandom for it which makes me sooooo happy !! #I hope I got everything right like I said it was all memory/assumption #castleaudios #castleaudios glenwood #glenwood series #asmr #be niceys to me abt it btw I’m shyyy but I think it came out nice ! #rachelle’s is red w no heart btw bc it’s sorta posed as romantic or flirty or whatever but she sucks and it’s fake #fuck rachelle all my homies hate rachelle #canon one at least. friend au is acceptable

[lenievi]

The Captain's mind was too inflexible, too disciplined, but the Doctor was sentimental, soft.

Spock's meld with McCoy in Mirror, Mirror. [Spock's POV]

Ever since seeing Mirror!Sarek’s meld with Michael, I wanted to use “seemingly impossible depth of human compassion” in a Mirror!Spock/McCoy meld fic. Three years later, it’s finally here~

#spones #Leonard McCoy #spock #star trek tos #mirror universe #my writing #it's probably different from what you're used to but this is what i wanted to write~ #there's some blink and you miss it mckirk... i guess... it's all from spock's pov he makes assumptions lol #you can make your own #wonder if the kudos will be similar to my last niche fics or if they're gonna be a bit higher even though it's once again a niche thing :D

[erisenyo]

Questions for fic writers 1, 3, 5

Anon thank you so much for indicating the ask game, I did not realize I reblogged them both so close together lol

What inspired you to start writing fanfiction?

Epistles by Lady_of_the_Flowers lol. It is an absolutely stellar fic and I couldn't get it out of my head when I finished it. I kept imagining how the story might have gone on, what their BSS reunion could have looked like, how they might have found their happy ending...

And eventually I couldn't get it out of my head to the point that I wrote the BSS reunion (the teashop alley scene for any Burning Bright readers). And then I went hm, this could be better with a bit of context... (880K words later.)

3. Are there any specific themes you enjoy exploring in your fics?

I LOVE playing around with perception! How can two people experience the same event but interpret it differently because of their different frames of references. How can a character's behavior suddenly be recast in an entirely different light because of revelations about their background. How does an external POV contextualize or challenge or reframe an event. How does the reader's own perception come into play, whether through canon events or tropes or genre conventions, where expectation builds perception which then is challenged and recast by the unfolding events, not just within the text but within the reader as well.

5. What techniques do you use to create believable dialogue?

I really like writing dialogue, and I tend to think of building up an exchange in a few layers:

Verbal Habits: is your character a rambler (Sokka)? Blunt and terse (Zuko)? Always trying to poke fun (Toph)? Those verbal habits help build out the conversational voice of each character, and are often rooted in their characterization

Recognize Rhythm: Actual conversations tend to be a mixture of long and short sentences, exchanging listening and speaking, nonverbal as well as verbal cues. A hear-to-heart will have a different flow to it than shooting the shit after work.

Dialogue Isn't Perfect: People stutter and stumble, thoughts start and stop, there's cross-talk and interruptions, spoken word tends to be less formal than written word--building in those pauses and half-thoughts can help it feel more natural, and also show where a character is stumbling or struggling with a thought

Build Around the Words: layering in even simple action is a great way to make a piece of dialogue more engaging while also accomplishing some needed point A-to-point B or worldbuilding or exposition. Characters are also reacting to and thinking about what they're hearing, what they might say next, how it makes them feel.

Don't Forget Nonverbal Cues: Someone saying something with averted eyes and fidgeting hands suggests something very different than the exact same thing said with a direct gaze and squared shoulders. Body language makes the dialogue more rich.

Mix Up Your Sentence Structure: This is related to rhythm, but switch between using dialogue tags or not, put your internal aside at the front of a line of dialogue or the middle or the end, switch between long and short sentences. And do it all with a purpose--fewer dialogue tags and shorter lines of dialogue generally feel like a faster conversation, dialogue breaking in the middle tends to shift the emphasis of the sentence. Get a feel for the ways you can leverage your sentence structure itself to signal tone or pace or pauses!

For this Questions for Fic Writers asks game!

#Guys I love teeing up and then subverting tropes and expectations #I love directly engaging with the reader's expectations and assumptions #Makes it a little conversation we're having together and a little fic experience created in tandem #Also I love dialogue lol

[crispyjenkins]

Assassin's Creed fic 👀 I am always a sucker for (good) Desmond Miles fic, hell yeah, would 100% read those if you posted them.

👀 👉👈 you're my new favourite, anon. this isn't close to being done but i'm very fond of it so here's a lil preview~ inspired by esama's study of flight, but with a twist! (gen, time travel/reincarnation, found family, william miles' a+ parenting, accidental subterfuge, desmond goes by miles mostly)

  Inhaling a careful breath, Ezio pauses half a flight from their destination and Leonardo halts on the step above him, frown deepening in concern. “Ezio?” he prompts, when he still doesn’t say anything.

  Ezio sighs. “We have thirteen recruits now,” he explains, turning to lean his back against the staircase wall; the cool temperature of the stone actually calms him somewhat and allows him to go on, “He’s been with us a few months, now.”

  Tilting his head curiously, Leonardo bends closer to him. “I thought you had stopped recruiting for the time being.”

  “I had.” Ezio rubs over his face quickly, such discomfort usually unsafe to display so openly — then again, Leonardo is hardly his enemy. “One of my discepoli, Adele, noticed him first.”

  “ ‘Noticed him’?”

  “... In my defense, I was away on a long assignment.”

  Leonardo just looks bewildered, an expression that’s usually quite amusing to see on the man, but Ezio can only cough awkwardly.

  “He, ah, was here a week before anyone thought to question him.”

  His old friend blinks slowly at him, Ezio can almost see the calculations happening in his mind, before his whole countenance brightens enough to make Ezio wince. 

  “You mean he infiltrated the Brotherhood? And nobody noticed?” he asks gleefully. “Oh, Ezio.”

  Refusing to flush in embarrassment, Ezio crosses his arms with a humph. “As I said, I wasn’t in the hideout at the time. Geniuses some of my recruits may be, but they all thought I had sent him here. Adele was the one to notice he had previous training, and asked him where he had met me.” Letting out a long breath, Ezio does smile, just a little. “The whelp didn’t even deny having snuck in, ’said that this is where he wants to be and was tired of waiting for chance to put him in my path, or I in his.”

  Leonardo laughs brightly, moving to rest against the wall across from Ezio. “And Machiavelli didn’t kill him immediately?”

  “No, Valeria convinced them all to keep it quiet until I returned from my contract, the little hellions. She even used me as a meat shield when Niccolò finally found out.” Ezio loves his recruits to distraction, they’re his brothers and sisters and siblings and he would gladly die for any one of them. He would also like to never face down Machiavelli’s sword and rarely-used hidden blade ever again. Once was already in excess.

  “And the recruit?”

  “Miles defended himself, of course. At least long enough for Niccolò to become intrigued by his skill.” He’s still testing the theory, but Ezio is fairly certain even the rank of millite is too low for him, though why Miles would be hiding his prowess is a concern all on its own. 

  Leonardo has known Ezio far too long, and far too well to not guess at his unsaid meaning, his lips tugging back into a thoughtful frown. “You think he was trained by another Assassin?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” he admits with a sigh. “He certainly wasn’t trained by any of our branches.”

  “Miles, Miles Miles,” Leonardo muses to the sloped ceiling. “Unusual name. Germanic? Or French, perhaps?”

  Ezio had been considering contacting his brothers in Spain, despite being almost positive that Miles wasn’t trained by them; he hadn’t even considered the French branch. Actually, did the French branch even exist anymore? He thinks he recalls hearing of its decimation around the time of the Inquisition.

  “There’s a thought,” he agrees slowly, rubbing his jaw. “I’d have to ask la Volpe or another older member about their fighting styles, I only ever crossed blades with Helene, and she hadn’t been an Assassin in many years by then.”

  “Ah, Helene... Dufranc, was it? Yes, yes, the lovely rogue from Barcelona. ‘Mon petit Assassin’, if I recall correctly?” 

  Glowering, Ezio kicks his friend’s foot at the reminder of the nickname he only escaped upon return to Italy. Some of his Spanish brothers still tease him about it in their letters. “I regret ever telling you about that,” he grumbles, much to Leonardo’s amusement. 

  Though, he quickly sobers and meets Ezio’s eyes under his hood, pinning him there easily. “Why am I here, old friend?” he asks, softly, but leaving no room to wriggle out of the answer again.

  He really isn’t making this easy, is he?

  Ezio can only hold Leonardo’s gaze for a few moments more, before he has to look away. “Miles is a bastard from a Veneziana whore. He never met his father.” He needn’t look to know Leonardo gets it immediately, but Ezio still goes on, “My students aren’t nearly as subtle as they think they are, and I do not know if it would have occurred to me without their whispers.”

  Leonardo understands this immediately, too. “Ah, does he not bear significant resemblance to you, then?”

  Ezio shakes his head. “My recruits seem to think so, but I’m afraid I’ve gotten far too in my head about it and am no longer sure if what I see is simply what I want to see.”

  “Oh, Ezio,” Leonardo sighs, standing straight to reach across the narrow space between them and put a hand on his shoulder. “I would be glad to meet him, old friend. Then, after, we will sort all this out, just as we always have.”

  Despite himself, Ezio finds himself relieved by the comfort, and reaches up to squeeze Leonardo’s hand, before removing it and stepping away. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and nods to the bottom of the stairs. “Miles is usually sparring one of his brothers or sisters around now, come with me.”

  “Or siblings,” Leonardo reminds him with a soft laugh, following at his heel.

#title's gonna be from poor isaac by the airborne toxic event #this whole fic is based on the trope of time travel des not knowing how to lie for shit and people making assumptions (à la study of flight #except their assumptions turn out to be mostly right #des isn't ezio's kid tho 👀 #anyway i love desmond almost as much as i love obi wan if that tells you anything about my current state of mind #crispy writes #i also have a modern-era bleed effect injury angst thing and an altdes where they both go back in time which is a MESS of a fic #but it's power couple mostly established relationship where everyone thinks altaïr found another adha and they aren't exactly WRONG #seriously i could gush about desmond endlessly #anon #cj answers #savage price

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Okay so I'm seeing a lot of 'Sun sucks at cooking he he can't make cereal properly leave the cooking to Moon he's the best at it' in domestic aus

And that's great! I love that idea! But consider the following: absolutely none of you know anything about cooking.

I mean, sure, Sun's been cutting apple slices with peanut butter for so long he's got it down to an art, and his PB &J sandwiches are to die for. Moon's got directions to make tea and applesauce and instant jello for the kids that they share in their headspace. But that's pretty much the limit for their cooking expertise. So put them near a toaster? Yeah, they can figure it out. A microwave? Moon put a fork in it to see what would happen after Sun saw something about it online and got to 20 seconds before you slam into the kitchen and shut it off. And then talk their audio receptors off by scolding them for putting metal in the microwave and being in the kitchen without your supervision.

All you have to send them is a look and they decide to leave the oven alone.

Speaking of your skills...

Well.

While you're no 'master chef', you've picked up enough to scrape by. A few years on your own will do that to you. Compared to what your boys know, you're practically a god in the kitchen.

So you, with your grand total of maybe 15-20 recipes (half of which have cottage cheese or yogurt incorporated into them) are appointed head of the kitchen.

You're really only slightly better than the boys, but you at least know how to turn on a stove. Still, your skill level is really only enough to make the same few meals throughout the week. So, you all decide to figure it out together.

You look up some recipes online, grab some stuff from the store and dump it all onto the counter. The ingredients are nothing you haven't seen before (the boys regard the flour as some foreign and ancient play-doh from the stone ages), but you can't remember the last time you bought some of this stuff.

After you take in the wonders of vanilla extract and brown sugar, you pick something hopefully easy enough that it'll be impossible to mess up. Cookies aren't that hard. You remember making them when you were younger, and they usually came out alright.

You also remember that you were 9 and had adult supervision to make sure you didn't screw up.

And now you're the most competent adult in this operation.

You try not to picture the apartment going down in flames.

It doesn't actually go terribly. You manage to handle it pretty well, all things considered. Moon grabs your wrist before you pour the eggs into the flour, reminding you that you're supposed to do your dries, then your wets, and then your chips. You're pretty sure he only reminded you so he can keep sneaking chips into his cheeks when you're not looking, but you let him have it. You also elect not to say anything when you catch them pouring more chips into the bowl when you're not looking.

Sun spends the entire time obsessing over the shape of the cookies, making sure they're all perfectly rounded and spread out on the pan. Moon wedges a chocolate chip deep into the center of a few of them, watching his brother panic over the now 'ruined' cookies. He gets over it eventually, though, joining his brother in front of the oven to watch the dough rise and expand as the torturous waiting for them to bake begins. You pull out the tray and inspect your work.

They're...not that bad, in all honesty. There are little things that could be improved, but otherwise, you're pretty proud of your guy's progress.

You're not as happy about the mess, though. It looks like a hurricane has stormed through your kitchen, a fact that is quickly brought to the attention of your boys as they scramble to wipe down countertops and toss eggshells away.

...

I dunno how to end this cuz my endings suck so there it is, thank you for attending my ted talk.

#sorry to bother #don't mind me #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf moon x reader #i kinda just made the assumption that they can eat in this one #not sure if i should make that a thing in my fic #probably not #it just works better here #moon's definitely the type to steal chips when he thinks you're not looking #even if he couldn't eat them he'd steal them #and peanuts #to go feed them to the squirrels #y/n probably has to tell them that chocolate is bad for the squirrels at some point tho #i think if moon could eat he'd def have a sweet tooth #but uh anyways yeah there's that #drabble

[puhpandas]

Why do people like ggy? I don't like what it does to Gregory's characterization, how it makes Vanny pointless, and how it contradicts the game.

I think you just answered your own question. you dont like what it does to his character but some other people do!

vanny being pointless isnt GGYs fault, it's just unfortunate that GGY takes away from her. which like I said isnt his fault because Vannys lack of screentime/character is just a fundamental problem with her. if she'd gotten the screentime she needed, it wouldnt be nearly as bad.

and it doesn't really contradict the game if you think about it. theres nothing in the game about Gregory to contradict lol. he has a lot of mystery surrounding him that GGY can explain if you apply it to him.

Gregory's lack of a record, his skill with robots, freddy 'remembering' him somehow in cut security breach lines, sleeping in the box, a lot of these can be explained if you assume Gregory had memory loss during sb after getting freed like vanessa somehow. it makes a whole lot more sense.

and it's also just an interesting dynamic for Gregory and the other characters in his life! gregory and vanessa being in the same boat changes things, and it makes a narritave they're pushing in ruin make a whole lot more sense (the idea that Gregory and vanessa worked on mxes together, and collabed as a 'we were ur victims now we're going to lock you away' type deal)

#none of this is an argument btw just trying to answer ur question! #ive gone a little in depth about what ggy could bring to the table character wise in some fics #but not as focused as id like to make one #maybe someday #pandas.txt #pandas talks #pandas asks #the memory loss aspect is speculation but its one non-canon event #that makes literally everything else make sense #so. #its just fan assumption anyway

[phoenixcatch7]

I'm making a persona 5 au of svsss (au in that it was the modern world that was the au, and sy brought something along with him), and I'm having a lot of fun with it!

Sy dies the same way as in canon, but this time as the leader/a member of the Chinese branch of phantom thieves (when and how a Chinese branch was made can be handwaved). He's a fellow wild card, a fool arcana, he's got third eye and a fully realised but unawakened persona.

When he awakes in sqq's body, he starts on as canon, but starts to notice strange fluctuations on qj that indicate the presence of the meta verse - and not only that, but a palace. The system notices the mysterious appearance of a new program it can't delete - the meta nav.

Without the key words, however, Sqq can't get in. He can't find who it belongs to, nor what it might be. One thing is for certain though: lbh cannot find out. The blackened protagonist with free reign of the meta verse? An undoubtedly powerful persona of his own?? It'd be the breakdown incidents all over again! He wouldn't stand a chance!

It takes a lot of arguing with the system about narrative directions and plot holes for it to not direct him to the nearest ripple in reality. In dreams, igor agrees (he has a lot to say about his new situation, but Sqq kinda ignores it).

Then, one day, he finds a fluctuation strong enough to fit a human, and slips right through, his scifi fantasy ninja outfit appears in flames, and he is faced with the distortion of qing jing peak - roiling dark clouds, bamboo towering impossibly far over his head, brown leaves thick on the ground and a thunderous gong ringing from somewhere down the path.

A coliseum.

Screams ring out, metal clashes, beasts roar.

And standing in front of the metal grill gate, tall and bedazzled in riches and more unmarked than shen yuan has ever seen him, is shen qingqiu.

-

What is persona if not themes of the inner self and fighting literal inner demons and learning to love, both yourself and others, and overcoming tragedy?

There are some things I'm still unsure of, but I really want to explore the idea of the ghost of sj lingering on, still haunting the narrative and how that affects everyone. Normally, when a palace ruler is killed, their palace crumbles as well, but with Sqq still walking around and the systems intervention with his soul (having not died then in canon) the original goods wouldn't be fully gone.

The soul is! It's not sjs ghost, but rather his shadow. Real souls cannot live in the meta verse. But with the real deal gone, sy would be unable to affect him in order to make his way through the palace to the treasure the way a normal heist would go. Instead, he'd have to learn about sj himself, uncovering secrets and dispelling rumours. As the new Sqq, he would have to change his perspective and uncover the story behind the scum villain in order to progress. Remove the distorted perspective from himself.

Mini bosses would be a bad faith interpretation of yqy from sjs perspective, qiu haitang as she was at the manor. Enemies would be the coliseum guards and jailers, the shadow populace qj disciples in general misery, often forced to fight each other or monsters as sj watches on from the top seat. Nyy would sit with him. Poor shadow lbh would be a prime gladiator slave, suffering constant defeat. Sin: envy. I really want to focus on the fact he is both abuser and survivor, and his 'I suffered, thus so should you' thing. A bit like p5 strikers in that.

The plot would be basically Sqq handling both the canon events of svsss and also his investigation into sj, tracing paper trails of slave documents, hunting for potential secrets in the bamboo house, learning about the ghost backstab incident from lqg (which leads him to airplane), building up the courage to go down and talk to the brothel ladies, carefully teasing bits of history out of yqy. Also beating up shadows with a jojo stand and a .7 calibre sniper rifle he can fire like an automatic in his spare time. (if you don't know, persona lets you hold shadows at gunpoint for cash and items, but also flirt, threaten and bribe. Also you can ambush them and sometimes collect them like pokemon it's fun.)

The final battle would have the palace ruler sj transform into his final form (I'm thinking something with chains) but there absolutely has to be a human duel for the first phase, xiu ya to xiu ya. The surrendering of the crown would end in a hug, and sj performing a sincere but bastardised version of the peak lord crowning ceremony before he dissipates, and the coliseum starting to crumble and burn. As for the treasure... In the distorted world, an elaborate peak lord ceremonial crown, in the real world, an old, worn hair ribbon.

If I wrote it, I'd probably keep it shorter. Just the one palace, maybe sqh awakens his persona by virtue of being squirrelly and getting on his last nerve™. I'm thinking of the 'what don't I dare when it comes to you?!' because if that isn't a persona awakening scene I don't know what is. Conquering the bamboo palace would free qj from some 'unnamable' dark cloud and just in time to push lbh in the abyss (the palace time limit bring that sjs spirit would cruelly push lbh into the abyss rather than sy doing it (and being kinder about it)).

If it was longer, more persona users would awaken, despite sqq's best attempts. Liu qingge, ning yingying, shang qinghua obviously, gongyi xiao, zhuzhi lang maybe (they'd both live). A real motley crew. There'd be more palaces along the journey, each with it's own deadline - old palace master, lbh (though his palace would have the gimmick of being actually xin mo's), tianlang Jun, qiu haitang. Sj would still be the overarching palace, this time being the only one without a deadline maybe, and the story would end with a 'not sj' reveal for the new phantom thieves (with a side order of 'we already know and care for you anyway').

A sequel would be shorter: sy visits qiong ding for the first time since its all calmed down and realises that the distortions of a palace are still there, that they weren't a product of the bamboo palace. Yqy has a palace (because you can't tell me that man is mentally well). For a side of angst maybe the sy reveal was more open secret for the need to knows rather than strictly 'whoever witnessed two identical versions of Sqq trying to kill each other' and Yqy develops the palace as a result of not taking that well.

In comparison to the others, Yqy is the strongest cultivator alive, has been sitting on a soul deep distortion and trauma for decades since childhood, recently went through a heartbreaking reveal pointed directly at every single one of those issues, and oh yeah, has his soul directly bound to xuan su.

His palace's difficulty level is nightmarish. The corrupt version of the lingxi caves is a terrifying subterranean crawl through blood soaked caverns and bottomless pits. The gimmick is that near everything wants to suck your soul out. The only saving grace is that distortions are not inherently malicious, and they manage to lever that to their advantage. Unlike the others, yqys palace does not focus on him abusing his power over others - quite the opposite, in fact.

Through murals, echoing voices, and what sy and sqh remember, they piece together his own heart demons. It's scary - outwardly, the sect leader is fine, clear headed, going about his days just fine. The bloodied caverns he sees the world through tell a different story. To gain access it's a long process of easing out stories, working through his deeply ingrained self reliance, helping him work up to confessing the truth of xuan su. Not only to xiao jius shrine, but to his closest martial siblings as well, allowing him to be vulnerable and protected as he never has been.

But Yqy follows them into the palace, curious as to why they visit his peak every day. It's unstable, very dangerous for a person to meet their shadow, but it's too late. Yqy meets his shadow self, small and furious and stuck through with a thousand swords he uses to his advantage, and does the impossible.

A palace ruler awakens a persona.

Even as a trained group, the life force powered xuan su boosted shadow is too strong - they've already failed to defeat it once. Yue qingyuan, breathing grief like air but finally ready to heal, stands for himself. Rips off the smiling mask he's been hiding behind since he was five years old and freshly a big brother. His persona is magnificent.

And just in time, too, because, uh, turns out the meta verse is the systems doing, this time. And it's evil. I'm thinking a giant brainwashing vr-esque super computer. And they defeat it with the power of friendship and also lucifer.

#But if I made it as big as I wanted it'd be 100s k easy #Idk idk it's been swimming in my mind for ages #LONG POST #I've already got some personas and designs thought out but that'll have to be a separate post LMAO #I want to write it so bad ToT #Feel the prequel/sequel is unbalanced but it'd be during/post canon. They don't have to be the same length. #I mean maybe I could make it a palace per fic and have a proper series? #Themes: acceptance/false assumptions/self discovery/love and trust. All those good things. #See this always happens I go to write a funny haha self indulgence thing and it SPIRALS #I don't want 400k of plot I want to see Sqq in a scifi fantasy ninja outfit with a giant sniper gun mowing through 4d demons #While svsss characters watch on in shock and awe #Is that too much to ask?? #svsss #shen qingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #the scum villain's self saving system #persona series #persona 5 #persona au #persona 5 au #fic ideas #fanfiction #fanfic #crossover #crossover fic #Bamboo palace au