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#the cookie and tortoise joint kinnporsche headcanon universe
snickerdoodlles · 11 months
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Kinn: we used to bury Kim in kittens. actually that’s a lie, my mom only had 3 cats, but two of them were very rambunctious and Khun and I would chase them around all the time to get them back into Kim’s lap, so it felt like we had eleven.
Chay: 🥺❤️
Kinn: we got rid of them after mama died. Big and I smuggled them into our backpacks and pretended not to notice them howling and squirming the whole way to the shelter. I tried to explain to my teacher a cat actually ate my homework and got detention for a week, or at least I did until they called my dad and he threatened them until they reversed it.
Chay: wait, you got rid of them?!
Kinn: mhmm. they were our mom's cats, not Korn’s. we knew he’d kill them eventually and we were worried it’d happen in front of Kim.
Chay: Chay: hey Kim, remember when you offered to use your dad's ashes for target practice
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snickerdoodlles · 11 months
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@majestictortoise and I just came up with my new favorite Kim headcanon
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snickerdoodlles · 1 year
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so a few weeks ago, @majestictortoise​ and i were talking about VegasPete cohabitation negotiations. because the thing is, these two spent like 3, maybe 5 days max actually existing around each other before going im going to spend the rest of my life with him. very sexy of them to do that, except five minutes after they were both on the same page about this, Vegas does his best swiss cheese impersonation and then they spend several weeks in the hospital waiting for him to heal and reaffirm that yep, this is the man i want to spend forever with. again, very sexy of them to do that, but this means that they’ve been together for several weeks but still don’t know what its actually like to LIVE with the other person, much less live together plus one Macau. and on top of this mess, they also have to face the fact that none of them have a single clue how to run a household because none of their lives have been normal.
the first hint of their coming domestic clashes is, of all things, the dishwasher.
Vegas is freshly released from the hospital. none of them want to return to the minor family compound, or have anything to do with the mafia in general tbh, so Pete and Macau had spent the hospital’s no visitors hours reviewing Vegas’s dubiously acquired real estate properties for somewhere to live. two weeks before Vegas was due to be released, Pete and Macau had picked a cozy home in the suburbs and Porsche loaned a bunch of minions to get it dusted and fitted with some basic furniture. also, as the only one of them who’s ever been a homeowner, Porsche also thought to walk through the home with Pete and make sure all the taps were working and the electricity was running and the utility bills paid. a true bro, that one.
anyways, its their first evening at home. they’re still living on takeout because no one has the energy to cook (that’s Vegas’s area anyways), but Pete and Macau insist on putting the food out on actual plates and use actual utensils instead of eating out of the cartons with plastic and cheap bamboo like they have been. they pull the couch cushions to the floor and eat there because the flatpack table is assembled but the chairs are not, and its all very sweet and lovely. Pete loads the dishwasher and when he’s done, he notices Vegas grimacing and sweetly hustles him off to the bedroom for a handjob and rest.
two days later, after a wonderful meal courtesy of Pete’s grandma (she’s the best), the dishwasher is full enough to run. Pete puts the soap in, then pauses with a frown. i dont remember loading it like that, he thinks, before shrugging and running the thing. it’s just dishes, and he has more important things to worry about anyways.
the first obvious casualty of their collective inexperience are three of Vegas’s velvet shirts. he’s been wearing all his softest clothes, because he’s been stuck in hospital scrubs for much too long, so he’s working off a much more limited clothing pile than the rest of them. the only blessing in this scenario is that Vegas is the one to load the washing machine (well, Macau loaded it, because he didn’t want Vegas to strain himself, but they did it together) so Vegas doesn’t have anyone to yell at. he and Pete fuck out the angst of course, but the cloud of three murdered shirts still hangs over them for a week.
they figure a few things out, like how you don’t pour straight bleach on a counter stain because pure bleach bleaches the counter, there’s always another corner to dust even when you got them all, don’t forget to put the trash out the night before trash collection days. life trucks along, because life does that, then a new demon emerges.
“Vegasssssssssssssssss,” Macau wails from his bedroom doorway, “is the internet still out?”
“uhhhhhhhh,” Vegas says, looking guilty in the midst of scattered wires and a gutted cablebox. the three of them have been trying to figure out why the internet had abruptly gone down since last night and after the two of them had triple checked that everything was plugged in right this morning, Pete had disappeared to teach Chay how to punch stuff and Vegas had pulled out a screwdriver and pliers with a manic gleam in his eyes. Pete’s not even mad, though he does make a mental note to ask Porsche if replacement cableboxes are one of those free things or something they have to purchase.
“uhm,” comes a voice from the kitchen. “did you pay the internet bill?” Chay asks Pete, because he’s still ignoring Vegas while he figures out how he feels about the whole successful-and-attempted-kidnappings thing.
Pete, who’s never had a household bill before in his whole life, blinks. “is that what that mail was?”
Vegas, who knows what regular payments are thanks to growing up a mafia heir, but for whom household bills were but a distant myth, frowns. “i thought we agreed that thing was fake.”
“what the fuck is an internet bill?” asks Macau, because household bills do not exist to sixteen year olds.
“...something to look into then,” Chay squeaks out before fleeing for the front door.
Pete luckily has the sense to complain to his grandma about the situation during their next phone call. he is appalled to learn all those utility payments he paid when they first moved in are reoccurring monthly payments. grandma laughs at him for five minutes, but at least they now know to pay the electric bill on time.
the dishes thing comes to head after six weeks of Vegas making Faces every time Pete loads the dishwasher and Pete finally body slams him like WHAT
“mugs go at the back of the rack :) because they’re heavy :) it’s better balanced if they’re in the back :) :) :)”
it’s not a pretty argument. they fuck about it. the argument continues. they fuck some more about it. Pete picks up Vegas from his last physical therapy appointment the next day, except when Vegas tries to get in the passenger seat, Pete’s like “no no, heavy weight goes in the BACK we need to keep things BALANCED :) if you say ONE word of the lecture on the tip of your tongue I WILL make you walk”
and then Pete does make him walk. he doesn’t drive off, Vegas isn’t allowed out of his sight lest he do something stupid, so he follows in the car carefully to make sure Vegas doesn’t get into something stupid. it’s a level of petty bitch unseen before.
“this wouldn’t be a problem if you just loaded the dishwasher correctly :)” Vegas says when he’s finally allowed in the car.
“this wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t a bitch :)” Pete retorts.
they fuck about it when they get home of course, because what’s the point of domestic tension if it doesn’t fuel your sex life.
Pete finally asks Porsche to visit two months into living with Vegas. fucking out their domestic problems is fun, but he’s getting a little tired of their sex life being fueled primarily by who last forgot about the chore wheel. Porsche says hello and then excuses himself to the bathroom, only to take one step into it and hastily back out with an expression of deep alarm.
Porsche opens his mouth, pauses to rethink what he’s about to say, then asks, “where do you keep your toilet cleaner Pete?”
“my what?” Pete asks. he stares at Porsche blankly for a few seconds before hesitantly pointing at the handsoap on the sink, feeling a bit like he’s been asked a trick question.
Porsche smiles kindly. it almost doesn’t look strained. “not that, the stuff you use to clean the toilet bowl.”
Pete feels the question marks cross his face. “our toilet flushes,” he explains slowly, “it cleans itself.”
Porsche takes that in, gives a small little nod, and disappears to take a piss. “right,” he says as he exits the bathroom, “do you have a pen and paper? we need to make a shopping list.”
they write up a list--excessively long in Pete’s humble opinion, but Porsche insists they need all of it, and Pete’s not stupid enough to think he knows more than him--and have lunch before they go. Pete washes the dishes by hand because he’s still a little sore (emotionally and physically) over his and Vegas’s last argument about the dishwasher. Porsche watches him with plain faced horror.
“Pete,” he says, strangled.
Pete presses a soapy hand to his forehead and sighs so loud he rattles the window.
Porsche kindly doesn’t say anything on it, he just nudges Pete to the side, hands him a towel, and walks him through it. “you only need a little bit of soap,” he explains kindly, “fill up the basin with hot water and a small dash of soap, and you’re good to go.”
Pete wrinkles his nose at the steamy soapy water. “hot water dries out my hands,” he complains.
“we’ll pick up some gloves,” Porsche reassures, “but you need the hot water. it unsticks food better and sterilizes your dishes. the soap just helps.”
Pete sighs again. he’s starting to think anything involving dishes is a mistake.
Porsche and Pete go shopping. there’s so much stuff. Pete doesn’t know what the fuck he’s expected to do with three buckets, but Porsche insists. Pete’s even more alarmed by the sheer number of different soaps apparently required for a house. you’d think they’d have invented a universal soap by now.
“oh!” Macau says brightly, “i think i saw a tiktok for that!”
“ooh,” Pete says, immediately interested.
“absolutely not,” Porsche hisses like a wet cat, then sits them all down for a lecture on the dangers of homemade mustard gas.
never fear, they do figure out how to adult with the help of Porsche and Vegas’s growing collection of momfluencers and aunties who think his cheekbones can do no wrong. it doesn’t even take them that long, but tell that to the number of Vegas’s silk and velvet shirts that were sacrificed along the way.
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snickerdoodlles · 11 months
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I disagree with your chan headcannon
But I like your other headcannons so can I for macau headcannons if you don't mind
😂 well the good news is that i’m in the fandom minority with my “Chan is loyal to Korn only” camp and rarely ever post about him, so keep asking me about brothers and we'll be delighted together
and yes!!! MACAU MY DARLING BOY!!! i love him SO much, but i will limit myself to only three (3) headcanons for him on this post in a futile attempt to keep it from getting too long
Macau & Kim
his favorite way to piss Kim off is by making club mixes of chinese drama OSTs. he does this with Kim's actual songs too after those start rolling out, but this feud began long before they started posting to social media. Macau also starts off with a larger following for his mixes than Kim does for his covers, and while that eventually plateaus and Kim passes him in their follower counts by the time canon rolls around, Kim is still so fucking bitter. the day Kim starts to let it go is the day Macau posts a video of himself playing hot cross buns on the drama dizi* he stole from Kim years ago.
Macau & Chay
Chay and Macau do Not like each other. i know people like to make them friends, i just don't see it happening without a lot of work first and it's so much funnier to me if they're frenemies. i do love them as online gaming besties tho (before they find out who the other is), because then they both have to live with the mortifying knowledge that Chay once called Macau 'daddy' after he gave him a bunch of turnips in animal crossing, because they are teenagers and teenagers make stupid daddy jokes. any inclinations of trying to be friends because Porsche and Vegas are friends dry up faster than water on a hot pan after that.
Macau & Pete & Vegas
you know what's a great way to bond with brothers and in-laws? movies. you know what's the worst leisure activity to do with Pete and Vegas? WATCH MOVIES. every action scene is scrutinized and criticized and Pete keeps rewinding the same three seconds to mock the character's kick stance. any murder scenes are WORSE. Vegas hates romances and hates ballads. the only things not totally infuriating to watch with him are cooking shows and home improvement shows and the occasional gardening show and yawn. Pete's tastes are much broader thanks to Khun, but he also comes with so many opinions on how to properly watch shows and Macau doesn't actually want to dress up every time they watch a horror film.
so movie nights are almost a bust. they do find some movies they're all into, but it's usually an exercise in frustration. but then, one day while they're queuing up a film they're only 37% sure on, Pete's grandma calls with the hot town gossip--"do you remember Kobb Pete? yes, the nice old man who runs the fruit stand, remember how he gave you a mango on your first day of school and you dripped all down your new uniform? well, you'll never believe what's happened, you know how Kobb passed his stand down to his son Mew and Mew was training up his son Mod to take over one day, except they got into a fight on how to best display the pineapples and papayas and they had a fight, yes, right there in the middle of the road, and Mew fired his son, but Kobb backed Mod, so they opened a rival fruit stand with Mew's wife, but Kobb's wife sided with Mew and got the neighbors involved, and--"
it takes grandma forty minutes to regale the tale of the on-going fruit vendor feud. then she continues to update Pete on the rest of the hometown for another three hours. Macau and Vegas are enthralled. how often does your grandma tell you things Pete, can we be there for the next one, what's the full story behind the thing with Folk's fishing boat, why did you ask grandma if Sine's husband was in the garden--
listen, small town drama is the best drama. and Vegas is having a journey to discover which mafia things are things he likes vs which ones he forced himself to like to survive, and being a nosy cunt sniffing out all the juicy scandals is absolutely something he takes to with glee (he will become grandma's favorite when they visit, they are terrifying together). Macau just loves hearing all the petty drama and neighbors feuds that result in increasingly passive aggressive displays of garden gnomes instead of gunfire. movie night becomes grandma call nights and it's the best family bonding.
*inspired by Jeff buying one of the Wei Wuxian's flutes and the fact that he reportedly learned how to play it because he's a big ol' cql nerd ❤❤❤ this is also a reference to @majestictortoise's fic Middlegame, which everyone should read if they haven't yet and reread if they have
Send an ask, get a headcanon (prev: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)
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snickerdoodlles · 1 year
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Summary
Chay and Macau’s road to friendship is long, arduous, and largely untraveled.
;;;
Vegas and Pete are house decorating. Macau gets sick of Vegas’s Opinions(TM) on bland interiors and all the naked brooding/flexing, and thinks his best escape option is to crash with his worst cousin and ever worser boyfriend. And he’s right.
aka Chay & Macau: united in trolling, but nothing else
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snickerdoodlles · 1 year
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DMs are fun
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