I love when weak characters accidentally become the person with the biggest influence in the world because misunderstandings cause people to do their “bidding” and they’re completely clueless. Severely derailed the story with his influence and instead of living his life peacefully, he ends up being at the forefront of world-ending catastrophes.
I love the generic black haired, weak to strong, emotionless exterior, op knowledge of the world characters so much. I NEED MORE CHAPTERS;;
“i never see you at the club” ok well i never see you on ao3 at 2am reading about the same two bitches falling in love for the 1000th time in the 500th way
I just think Shang Qinghua should get so angry one time that he unconsciously overrides the System and unlocks Admin privileges and just deletes entire clans out of existance in the blink of an eye while going "writing you in was a mistake".
And I also think everyone who saw that refuses to ever talk about it, but they're all scared shitless of the tiny human by Mobei-jun's side now because they realize he's not just really smart and an amazing strategist, he's also a god and can kill them all in 0.5 seconds. And now they all think that Shang Qinghua is actually the one running the show and Mobei-jun is just, like, the face of the Northern kingdom only.
Shang Qinghua is utterly horrified when he snaps out of it and realizes what he's done (somehow??? He doesn't know wtf just happened) and how now everyone is terrified of him except for Mobei-jun who is just looking at him with heart in his eyes lmao
nothing on this god's green earth can convince me that peter parker doesn't have an ao3 account where he is elbows deep in a 'rise of skywalker' fix-it fic. like, fully invested in it, been writing it pre-spider bite with ned, who is just as enthusiastic about it. but the thing is, it's really hard to do updates when you are literally spider-man.
every three months he'll post and in the author's note there's some shit like "sorry this took a while, i got shot seven times :/" or "i know it's been a minute, i literally got hit by a bus and then stabbed in the leg, but i'm all good!" or sometimes ned would log in and post with a note "hey i'm a friend posting on the author's behalf, they're healing from severe hypothermia but promised an update, so here it is!"
and the fic just gets increasingly more popular for the author notes alone. a good handful of the comments are something along the lines of "i'm not even in the star wars fandom, i'm just here to see if the author is good" or "every update i cheer for another day the author gets to live at this point"
and any reader who is a native new yorker kind of pieces together that holy shit the author might be spider-man because the timeline adds up, and they just fully embrace it. spider-man will stop a robbery and the guy behind the counter will ask when the next chapter will be up. spider-man returns a stolen backpack to a girl and she'll tell him that he "really got poe's voice down so well, it's really impressive."
ned thinks it is hilarious. mj finds out about the fic from twitter, to peter's absolute horror, and changes peter's contact name to "friendly neighborhood ao3 author". but the worst thing to happen is after an avengers battle where peter took a pretty big hit and ends up in med-bay. and during a press conference, when someone asks how spider-man is healing, tony just drops "spidey won't be down for too long. the star wars fic will be updated within the week, probably."
When Lucifer finally gets found familied and excepts the hotel as his friends there are still times where he pretends he doesn't remember who they are. Specifically he does this when they irritate him.
For example Angel eats the last of his cookies and suddenly that's not Angel Dust that's Andrew, that's The Pink Guy, that's Spider Twink, that's Cocaine and Angel knows that Lucifer is fucking with him like he personally invited Angel to family game night last week everyone knows Lucifer knows his name. This goes on until Charlie is begging Angel to please just replace the cookies but Angel refuses because "He's the king of hell he can buy his own damn cookies!"
This goes on for a month. Angel replaces the cookies.
Shen Yuan stared up at the man, disbelief clear on his face.
The man before him huffed a laugh, brown eyes becoming crescent shaped with amusement. He was a little taller than Shen Yuan, a little broader, with a sleeve tattoo covering his right arm to his wrist. His dark brown hair was softly curled, more wavy, and a little shaggy, falling to his shoulders. His face reminding Shen Yuan of Binghe. Not a lot, but just enough if he were to tilt his head and squint.
“You’re just a kid.” When the man finally spoke his voice was as smooth as velvet. “How old are you?”
“Nineteen.” Shen Yuan automatically responded as he gawked.
The man had round wire glasses, a piercing on the left side of his lower lip, both ears were pierced, and he had cheekbones that belonged on a magazine cover. He was a little older than Shen Yuan expected. Somewhere in his late-twenties compared to Shen Yuans late teens.
“Cucumber-Bro, come on, I’m not that different.” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky offered a smile, showing off dimples underneath a days worth of scruff.
“How old are you?” Shen Yuan demanded, still blocking the doorway into the dorm.
“Thirty.”
What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” Shen Yuan asked aloud.
Seriously, this was the caffeine addicted crack-writer?!
When Shen Yuan had woken up back in his dorm room instead of in bed with his husband in the bamboo house, he immediately contacted Airplane—it was a gamble, but it paid off. The relief Shen Yuan felt when Airplane responded was like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He gave the other man his phone number and address, then waited an excruciating five days until the two could meet. (Because Shen Yuan lived in Beijing, but Airplane apparently lived in Chengdu, and last minute flights weren’t cheap.)
Shen Yuan knew that his friend would look different. Hell, Shen Yuan looked different! A little shorter, a little rounder, way younger. With pitch black eyes, short inky black hair, and an ear piercing. He was pretty rather than handsome, softer than Shen Qingqiu.
And it wasn’t that Shang Qinghua wasn’t handsome—he was! Like everyone else in PIDW. But Airplane?
“Can I come in?” Airplane asked while shoving his hands into his back pockets. He wasn’t dressed fashionably. His beat up backpack was slung carelessly over a shoulder, jeans were ripped due to wear and tear, his faded band shirt was due to too many washes, his sneakers were scuffed. And yet…
Shen Yuan dressed in the latest fashion. He tried his best to look good, he had standards for himself! He looked like a C-Pop star.
Airplane wasn’t even trying to be hot. (WHY WAS HE SO HOT?!)
It shook something inside of Shen Yuan. All of his past theories of Airplane being a troll flew out the window.
“Well?” Airplane looked like he wasn’t above shoving past his friend to get in.
Shen Yuan allowed his friend inside, still shook.
“Shang Qinghua.”
“What?”
“My name, bro.”
“Wait…you used your actual name for the character closest to Mobei!? Fucking Mary-Sue!”
“Ah, there we go, there’s the Peerless Cucumber I know. Although it’s weird to hear such vitriol from a face so cute.”
Shen Yuan felt the blood rush to his face and wished he had a fan in his hands to use as a weapon when Airplane chuckled.
“Come on, let’s try to figure out how to get back home,” Shang Qinghua said as he moseyed to the desk in the room.
Shen Yuan sighed as he closed and locked the door.
BONUS:
SY: I thought you said you were a broke university student who wrote to make sure food was on the table.
SQH: Yeah, dude. I’m working on my dissertation. Writing pays the bills.
