#fic snippet

[papayafromtv]

Batboys playing cards.

"-Well Damian's the biggest hater in this family," Tim points out, gesturing outwards with his can of coke as Dick places a card on the table. "Like he'll- dude, you'll hate for literally no reason."

"All of my hatred has reason." Damian denies casually, throwing a chip in his mouth and crunching loudly.

"Do you remember how much you hated me when you first came to Gotham? Like," Tim snickers slightly. "You didn't even know me, there was no reason for that."

"I didn't hate you," Damian argues. "I was just indignant at your continued presence in the house. And that was Todd's fault, not mine."

Eyes flicking to the side and noting the way Jason bites his lip before quickly taking a swig of beer, Dick narrows his eyes, mouth twitching upwards at the sides. "Wait, why would that be Jason's fault? What did he do?"

"When he dropped me off at the manor he told me Drake was a make-a-wish child."

Tim's posture goes slack, pausing as he places his card on the pile and looking across the table incredulously. "What?"

"Well I didn't-" Damian's face cracks slightly and he coughs, re-organising his hand. "I didn't know Robin was a thing that existed, you know? My mother told me about Batman because she wanted me to respect my father, but she had no reason to mention the fact that he had a sidekick, and Todd didn't like talking about his time with father so he never specified that he'd been Robin. And so when we got to Gotham like, a couple hours before we reached the manor we actually happened to see Batman out on patrol from a distance, right? And I saw Tim as Robin swinging after him, and I looked at Todd and was like, 'the fuck was that?'."

Tim and Dick both look at Jason, who stares intently at his cards, ignoring them, clearly in the midst of a desperate attempt not to smile. He was failing, lips twitching as his brow furrows in false concentration.

"And Todd tells me, without a second thought," Damian continues, sending Jason an exasperated glare, "That you were a charity case Batman had allowed to accompany him for a night, in partnership with the make-a-wish foundation; you know like when kids wish to hang out with their favourite celebrities or play football with their favourite team? So I didn't know you were like, supposed to be my new brother, I just thought you were some dying kid overstaying his welcome."

"You thought I was dying?!" Tim says, incredulous. Dick is staring at Jason with his mouth open, eyes shining in pure awe, and Jason silently shakes his head, pressing his lips together so hard they go white.

"I mean-" Damian smothers a laugh, gesturing. "You did look kinda sickly?"

Jason lifts his hand of cards up to cover his face, closing his eyes and letting out a slight squeak.

"Anyway, pick up two." Damian shrugs, tossing a card on the pile and leaning back in his seat, blank in the face of Tim's wide-eyed offense and disbelief.

"So when you tried to kill him...?" Dick asks, when it becomes clear Tim has bluescreened too much to respond. Damian sticks out his bottom lip, shrugging again.

"I figured 'hey, might as well speed up the process'."

Jason's shoulders shake desperately, and he turns his head to the side to mumble out from behind his shield of cards at Tim, voice wet with amusement, "I- I told him you had the condition of the kid from the secret garden, you know- where he had those weird back lumps and was all weak n' shit?"

Tim smacks him in the shoulder with his cards angrily, and Jason wheezes.

[teddy-tj-dore-jace]

Who would have thought some random repost and a poll would get me to write Trans!Grace?

Well it did.

Have a snippet

FINISHED FIC

[rue-x3]

Here, have some more Mamayuan tree spirit au (but different)

Fic snippet below v

An AU where tree spirit Shen Yuan sleeps a lot. Sometimes he wakes up after many years have passed, other times he’ll wake up after only a day. The duration of his sleep can never be predicted

It’s not something he chooses, he’s halfway to godhood and needs to preserve his energy—it is through sheer interest in the world around him that keeps making him wake up.

Insert SJ who’d gotten dragged to the edge of the forest to get beaten in private after making a mistake. He’s lying sprawled on his back, weak and tired as he huffs small breaths and tries to gain the energy to get up. He mutters something to himself—a complaint of sorts—while he catches his breath.

He doesn’t expect to hear a sigh from above him. Up on what seemed to be a large, tall, mutated plum tree was a person. Hidden within a crown of leaves, a male lays against a thick branch listlessly—his eyes never opening as he lets out a hum. It was as if he was inclining Shen Jiu to continue talking.

Normally Shen Jiu would’ve bolted up, standing straight before deciding whether he’d try to escape or use words to avoid capture. This time Shen Jiu was still, laying in the soft grass beneath the tree as he found himself spilling every complaint to the man in the tree. When he was done his chest felt lighter, and there’s a sense of peace within him. Shen Jiu himself wasn’t sure why he stayed and chattered with this mysterious man.

“If only I could kill those bastards”

Shen Jiu cursed, finally sitting up and rubbing his aching ribs. The man in the tree was quiet for a moment, still not opening his eyes as he shifted his position. The tree he was cozied up to seemed to twist and grow like magic. Then, right before Shen Jiu’s eyes, a plump plum dropped right before Shen Jiu, rolling to hit the side of his foot. It was quickly followed by several others that also rolled towards Shen Jiu’s feet.

“So violent at your young age…”

The man tutted, cracking his eyes open to stare at the child standing beneath his physical body. He’d changed his position from laying with his face pressed against the branch to leaning his head against his hand, his eyes squinting as he let out a lazy yawn.

“You should be focused on making friends at your age, why don’t you offer these up and fight hate with kindness?”

Shen Jiu snorted at the man’s words, narrowing his eyes at the other and scoffing. Why should he have to bend over and make amends with those shifty child abusers? He’d be a fool to reject the free food though, he would at least make sure that he and Yue Qi ate their fill today.

“I wouldn’t eat those if I was you..”

The man said as Shen Jiu reached down to pick up the plums from floor—his lack of enthusiasm towards the idea of making amends obvious on his face. Shen Jiu didn’t stop picking them up, ignoring the male stubbornly.

“I really wouldn’t. They might give you a stomach ache, they’re not very good for children.”

The man in the tree rolled over, leaving his back facing Shen Jiu as he cozied up to the tree again. The branches surrounding him seemed to shift, huddling together to block the view of the male.

“Do as you please though, your business isn’t my concern.”

Then, as if he’d never been there, the man disappeared. Shen Jiu just finished picking up what plums he could, not interested in taking the words of the other seriously. He didn’t know what type of trick the other had preformed to make the plums fall, but it didn’t matter. Adults weren’t reliable, like hell Shen Jiu would listen to someone telling him to forgive his abusers and make friends with them.

The walk back to town from the forest was painful—but the anchoring weight of plums in his arms made the pain a whole lot more bearable.

When he finally reached the streets he was familiar with, he found himself quickly pulled aside—the lowlifes that’d “taught him a lesson” earlier on behalf of the traffickers he was forced to work for had decided that the plums he was carrying looked way too good for him. Shen Jiu regretted not hiding some within his clothes while he was picking them up. He’d been so irritated by the whole “making up” comment that he forgot just what his role was on the streets.

He couldn’t afford another beating right now, so he could only grit his teeth and let them take the plums from him. A bitterness welled up in him, a deep dissatisfaction at his own helplessness. When he was let go he found his way back to his normal spot, settling down and waiting for Yue Qi, who usually arrived later than him whenever they split up. As usual, Yue Qi arrived somewhere around an hour later, his eyes lighting up when he saw Shen Jiu.

“Xiao-Jiu! Guess what I brought?”

Yue Qi was quick to cozy up to Shen Jiu, pulling the steamed bun that he’d somehow tucked away earlier from his hiding place. He immediately attempted to rip it in half, offering the bigger piece to Shen Jiu as he recounted where he managed to get it from. When he noticed how quiet Shen Jiu was Yue Qi got quiet, his tone softening as he murmured a quiet “Hard day?” to Shen Jiu.

Shen Jiu didn’t want to talk about it, so he just shot Yue Qi a glare that wasn’t really directed towards him and busied himself eating the half of the bun that Yue Qi had given him. Yue Qi wasn’t stupid, he could take a guess on what happened. He didn’t push for an answer from Shen Jiu though, he just continued recounting his day in attempt to distract Shen Jiu—wanting to help ease the mental burden on the other. The night was filled with quiet promises and hopes for a better life. It was a rare semblance of peace.

In the morning, there was a thick scent of plums that spread throughout the area. The streets smelled sickeningly sweet, as if the streets had been doused in plum juice. Shen Jiu felt choked when he woke up to smell the scent—even a lover of all things sweet, like him, found the strong scent unbearable. He’d barely had time to gather his thoughts before loud screams forcibly cleared his mind. He jolted up, locking eyes with Yue Qi as they both began to scramble up and get on their feet.

The one thing that the streets had taught the both of them was that some screams were opportunities. If there wasn’t a crowd running away from something, then it’d most likely benefit them to run towards the screams. So that’s what they did. Yue Qi pulled Shen Jiu along—using one arm to block his face as the scent of plums got stronger. Shen Jiu also pinched his nose, gagging slightly as they neared what seemed to be the source of the sickening, overwhelming scent of plums.

When they broke past the cloud swarming the plaza they froze. There, in the middle of the crowd, was a small plum sapling. Just a normal, simple little plum tree sapling… except its roots were exposed and visibly burrowed within the corpses of several familiar faces. The traffickers along with the paid men that’d beaten Shen Jiu the previous day lay stiffly beneath the roots of the sapling. There were rotten plums scattered around, some half eaten while others remained intact.

Shen Jiu heard his heart thumping in his ears, his blood pumping fiercely as he recognized the wrinkled pink skin of the plums scattered around as the ones he’d gotten yesterday. How did they turn into… this? There wasn’t time to mull over it though, the crowd was already beginning to move, whispers and theories bouncing around as the people shifted. Some said it was a vengeful ghost, others said it was a cruel trickster spirit, the whispers overlapped and prevented Shen Jiu from hearing anything more.

He didn’t need to hear anything else though, he just grabbed Yue Qi’s hand and booked it. He knew that someone had to have seen him with those plums, and if he kept loitering near the scene it’d only take a matter of time before someone connected him to the incident and got him into trouble. He wasn’t quite sure where to go—he’d just grabbed Yue Qi and booked it. They ended up at the edge of the forest, both of them panting as they finally came to a stop standing before the tall, oversized, mutated plum tree. The fresh air near the tree made it easy for the two to catch their breaths since they were no longer choked by an excessive plum scent in the air.

“Hello?”

Shen Jiu called after catching his breath, seeking out the man he’d spoken to the day before. Yue Qi stood behind him, staring at Shen Jiu with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He’d never seem Shen Jiu like this. It was like a mix of both panic and excitement. He wondered if this had anything to do with the bad mood he’d been in earlier.

Despite the boy’s calls, the figure from the day before did not reveal himself. The leaves of the tree rustled slightly before settling. Shen Jiu wouldn’t give up that easily though. He called several more times, squinting up to try and potentially make out the figure through the leaves. Right when Yue Qi was going to step in and say something, they both heard an extreme rustling noise. Shen Jiu’s eyes focused on the branch that’d stretched out to him yesterday and dropped the pink plums at his feet, it’d started stretching out again—its movements fluid as if it was something’s limb rather than a branch.

Yue Qi immediately moves to pull Shen Jiu behind him, clearly on guard against this tree after seeing what had happened to the men in the plaza. The branch stopped a little ways above them, dangling overhead as if waiting for something.

“Greedy little child. The taste of revenge not enough? Here, take these and run along. You’re quite noisy.”

A detached voice sounded, seemingly carried in by the wind. Shen Jiu noticed the way plum blossoms bloomed and began to bear plums—different in color than the pink ones from before. Rather than falling to the ground, the plums remained on the branch as if waiting to be plucked. It took a little while for Shen Jiu to convince Yue Qi that these plums were (probably) safe. When he finally listened to Shen Jiu (only relenting after sternly telling Shen Jiu that he’d (YQ) pick the plums and that Shen Jiu was to run is anything were to happen to him) and reached up to grab a plum, he was surprised to find that it plopped in his hands with ease. After confirming that it was safe Yue Qi and Shen Jiu were able to take a breather and rest under the tree, eating a seemingly endless supply of purple plums.

…

Anyways so cutting it short there because I wrote all of this in one go and my ability to write a consistent scene is fading ehe.

Basically it’s

SJ: These fucking child abusers suck

SY, who was woken up by the commotion: Child abusers? I hate those!

SJ: I hate them, I want to kill them!

SY: woah, you can’t do that! You’re a child, leave the killing to the adults. I’ll secretly kill them with these plums

Anyways the idea for this au is just characters coming to SY to rant or to seek advice or whatever and SY somehow solving the problem.

SJ and YQ make a living selling plums after the incident happens but eventually the Qiu thing happens anyways because QJL threatens SJ with YQ. YQ ends up going to cang qiong and the separation happens. I’d like to think when WYZ takes SJ they walk past the plum tree and SJ asks for guidance. SY is asleep though and doesn’t answer, however before leaving SJ tells SY that he’s going to be on the run for a while and he’s like “is this worth it?”

YQ comes around the next day and returns to the plum tree out of habit, maybe, and he just kinda cries there. His crying stirs Shen Yuan who’s like “why are you crying here? He’s in the next town over, stop being so loud and go find him!” and gives Yue Qi a nudge in the direction of the next town. YQ has like a moment where he’s like “why didn’t he come to cang qiong” and he and SY have like a little bonding moment. SY’s like “The circumstances of others may differ from your own, don’t jump to conclusions and hurt yourself any more than you have” and then he goes to sleep before Yue Qi can say anything else

Lots of characters will get to have their moment with Shen Yuan. :3

[mybloodstream-caffeine]

I'm cooking up something to the tune of predator!Ilya/prey!Shane, but I'm not sure where I'm going with it. Definitely nowhere safe or sane that's for sure.

Ilya walks up behind Shane on silent feet. Shane's body registers his presence before he does. It's Ilya's favourite thing - watching goosebumps break out over Shane's thick forearms, the small hairs on the back of his neck standing on end; the animal responsiveness of him.

Prey instinct.

Ilya presses up against Shane's exposed back, scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth against his bared nape. Feels him shiver. Hears his sharp gasp.

“Jumpy,” Ilya says absently, pressing his thumbs to Shane's protruding hip bones.

“You scared me,” Shane says, already melting into Ilya's touch, head tilting to give him better access. Yielding to him, always. “When did you get home?”

[frownyalfred]

fic snippet: BAMF!Roy shoots out all the streetlights so Jason can escape

—

Roy pulled his bow over his shoulder, three arrows between his fingers. He glanced at Jason out of the corner of his eye, like he was making sure he was still there.

“Run. I’ll cover you.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” Jason asked, mocking him just to see Roy flinch. “There’s twenty fucking alphas out there. They’ll see me right away. I was going to jump in the--”

“Trust me.”

Jason turned, astonished. “Trust you?”

“Trust me,” Roy repeated calmly. His sharp eyes -- a hunter’s eyes, just like Dan’s -- were focused on the men sprinting their way. “When I say go, you run. Make sure your eyes are closed at thirty seconds.”

Make sure my eyes are closed? Jason thought. Okay, Robin Hood. You sound confident. Why the fuck not.

Uneasy, Jason stepped closer to Roy, using him as cover. It was only when Roy drew the bow, the three arrows perfectly balanced between his fingers, that Jason saw the growing patch of blood in his side.

“You’re fucking shot and you’re telling me to run?” Jason asked breathlessly.

Roy didn’t reply. His bow was sighted higher now -- away from the armed men. Which was entirely unhelpful.

Fuck this, Jason thought, I’m going for the river.

“Run,” Roy said softly. Jason shuddered anyway, feeling the whisper of an alpha command, yet determined not to give in.

“No.”

“Run.”

The command snapped through his body, and Jason was running before he could think about what he was doing. An arrow whistled through the air, shattering one of the floodlights on the warehouse’s roof.

Jason looked back just in time to see Roy fire another arrow, then another, hitting a pair of headlights on a car someone had started. Faster than he could count, the arrows kept coming, arcing over his head and splitting between the alphas like they were inconsequential.

He’s trying to blind them, Jason thought, suddenly appreciative of the cover. But they’re alphas. They’ll still see him.

The lot plunged into darkness, every single source of light -- including a phone being used as a flashlight -- had been shattered. And Roy was still firing, somehow. Covering him, just like he’d promised.

Just like Jason had guessed, the alphas could still see in the dark. They converged on Roy’s position, seconds away from making contact.

He tried to remember Roy’s warning.

Thirty seconds. Close your eyes.

There were two seconds left. Jason paused under a now-nonfunctional streetlight, covering his eyes with a hand and peeking out warily between two fingers.

A lone arrow flew through the air, wider and heavier than the others. There was something attached to it, almost like a --

Flashbang, Jason recognized in that split second. He clapped his hands over his ears, because hearing loss was a bitch, and he was more than far enough away for a flashbang to burn his eyes.

The flashbang that went off was more like a nuclear weapon than a simple stunning tool. It lit up the whole sky, so bright, Jason could see the outline of Metropolis’ buildings far across the Bay. As it expanded, the explosion turned the typical white of a flashbang, then orange, and then -- a split second at the very end -- a deep, unsettling blue.

Jason flinched away just in time for the sound wave to hit him. Even far away, it almost blew him off his feet. It knocked around his already mushy brain in his less than happy skull.

After a dizzying few seconds, the light died down. Jason closed his eyes, finding the afterimages of the explosion burned into the back of his eyelids.

The lot was suspiciously quiet. If he squinted, he could see a few alphas down on the ground and not moving. Several alphas. Almost all of the alphas, he realized.

He could have taken out a whole army of alphas with that, Jason thought, trying to blink away his astonishment. Smart alpha.

Roy had disappeared into the night, and hopefully had before the flashbang had gone off near his heightened senses. Jason could still feel his fingers around the back of his neck, squeezing tight.

Run.

[idksmtms]

baby thoughts are being THHUUUNKKK ….

TMM! baelor with his wife in his lap, laying on a chaise in front of the fireplace, your head on his chest, his hand around you, his other hand running through your hair

and he tells you about his battles in the blackfyre rebellion and delights at the little “oohs” and “aahhs” and gasps you let out when he talks about the more gruesome stuff

and he feels your arms around him tightening, sees your lip wobbling a bit at some painful memories he recounts and hes just constantly kissing your head

haedcore inspired by seeing a clip of egg singing that folksong and specifically the line “country was in peril, the anvil was a rock, the hammer smashed the bastard” like thats THE HAMMER right there omg

OMGGG I love this. This is so cute, wholesome, sweet just aaaaa! PLSSS keep thinking thoughts, they give me life!!!

I expanded on it a little here because I couldn't not...

"Will you tell me about the rebellion?" You asked quietly, voice just above a whisper.

The room was quiet, disturbed only by the crackling of the fire in hearth, it's gentle warmth caressing you and Baelor as you lay on the chaise. It was that quiet time after dinner where neither of you were quite ready to sleep but were far too tired to attempt any more work.

Both of you had stripped down to the barest of clothes, your plain nightdress caressing you about the shins. He chose to forego any clothes other than a simple pair of black trousers, citing that he was feeling far too warm for anything else despite the chill breeze that rushed through King's Landing and forced you to have the fire started. But that was the dragonblood in him, both of you knew (and you had never once complained about having him like that in your vicinity...).

He was relaxed where he lay, his upper body raised slightly with the curve of the chaise and the massive pillows you insisted needed to stay there for comfort. You had come and strewn yourself on top of him, your head on his chest, tucked just under his chin, your legs tangled with his, your arms thrown haphazardly on either side of him as both of you murmured quietly to one another. One of his arms was wrapped around you, a snug weight over your back, and the other gently caressed your hair, occasionally fiddling or twisting some of the strands of your hair.

His eyes flicked down to look at you. You were watching your own fingers trace unrecognisable patterns on his bicep, the sensation a little tickle on the skin there. He smiled, kissing the top of your head gently.

"The rebellion?" He asked, humming in thought, eyes drifting closed as he delved into his memories.

"They speak of your bravery," you whispered, "the great hammer who defeated the Blackfyres. No one tells me much of that time, or at least, no one did as I grew up."

A mixture of warmth and something worrying, something apprehensive, pulsed through him. You would have been too young during the rebellion, perhaps not even born yet. He wrapped his arm a little tighter around you.

"Will you tell me of your escapades?" You asked, blinking up at him, the gentlest spark of hope in your eyes.

His smile returned, warm and soft and he nodded a little, his chin brushing the top of your head.

"Battle is never what you expect it to be," he told you, voice dropping a little lower. "It is never neat in the way they describe in songs. It is bloody, brutal, dirty." He rubbed your back as he spoke, a slow motion. "I remember one man with an axe in the thick of it, a frenzied madman in the bloodshed. He attacked with such a fervour... it was unlike anything I had ever seen. And he came at me with this axe, swinging and thrashing, and bam, he nearly lopped my head from my shoulders." You gasped softly, eyes going wide as they flicked up to his face. "I was lucky to have ducked when I did," he added quietly, your hands stopping their tracing on his arm, your palm resting flat there as you gripped the muscle.

"He nearly cut your head off?" You asked, voice breathless, and he nodded, smiling a little as if it was something funny.

"I endured worse than a near miss in the thick of the battle," he told you, eyes fully closed now as he imagined those moments 20 years before, where his life had changed irrevocably. "Feel the skin at my lowest rib, there, just above my hip," he guided you, relishing in the way you dragged your fingers down his side, lifting up your head so your eyes could follow. You felt about until you reached a long jagged scar, the skin still raised and rough this many years later. "There, that scar," he stopped you, hand still caressing your hair as he felt you lay your palm there.

You were familiar with this scar, though you had not thought of it much. It was gruesome to be sure, skin and flesh that had once been ripped through, but you did not ask Baelor about his scars for fear of worrying him over things passed. Often you laid your hand there as he draped his weight on top of you in bed, and even now, you gently caressed it.

"A sword with a serrated edge, made to cause the worst damage to any it encountered. If nothing else, the Blackfyres were clever with their weapons. It felt as though my entire side was on fire. I can still feel it ripping through the flesh." You clenched your eyes shut, your lower lip wobbling as you caressed him there, running your fingers over the skin before you turned and looked up at his face.

He was smiling softly at you, so much love in his expression as he watched you mourn for wounds that had long since healed. He brought you back to lay down as you had before, kissing the top of your head as a distraction. You pressed your arms to his sides, caging him in return.

He told you more stories, tales of his fights, of Maekar at his side, of the Hammer and The Anvil, and you were rapt for each one. You gasped, oohed and aahed, clenched your hands into fists against his chest or tilted your head to look up at him as he narrated a particularly vicious battle. And through it all he paused to smile, to kiss your head and re-centre himself in your presence.

Silence gathered for a few moments, settling calmly over the two of you as you breathed each other in. Then Baelor felt your lips smile against his chest, felt the whisper of your breath there.

"Country was in peril, the anvil was a rock, the hammer smashed the bastard with his giant veiny-"

"You cheeky girl," he huffed, face pulled into a wide shocked smile. He looked down at you as you giggled, hiding your face against his chest, nuzzling there as he grunted. "Who in all the realms taught you that?"

"I should not say," you responded, but your smile was wide and he could not help but to fall in love with it all over again. He cupped your cheek, lifting your head so he could lean down and press a kiss to your mouth.

"It was Egg, was it not?" He asked quietly, slowly opening his eyes and looking into yours.

"Mhm," you responded, biting your lower lip as you smiled and nodded.

"Oh that boy," he sighed, shaking his head, but you just leaned forward and kissed him again.

[sohasters]

🥒✈️Cumplane Secret identity AU???

Peerless cucumber becomes so notorious that he starts getting Airplane notices semi-regularly. Airplane needs some extra cash so he starts doing vtube/voice change streams where he draws PIDW characters, comics, monsters etc - he's a talented baby what can I say, and he gets a decent stream following, offering sneak peeks at his creative process - but he really doesn't want his face and ID as an erotica writer out there thank you!!!

Peerless Cucumber is absolutely ridiculous in his chat, ubiquitous, always there the second he starts streaming. Constantly dropping huge donos to ask ridiculous lore questions that literally go on for minutes... riding herd on other chatters and policing people... Eventually him being "worst mod" becomes a meme, and Airplane mods him mostly as a joke.

They start messaging, and weirdly it's not hellfire? Modding the channel is the first actually constructive thing Shen Yuan has done, like, ever. It turns out that when he has actual responsibility, he takes it pretty seriously? He's more reliable than anyone, especially himself, could have expected him to be? Everyone still clowns in him and calls him "worst mod", "everyone tell the mods they suck" but it starts to be affectionate, because he actually helps detoxify the community a little? (Only HE is allowed to be toxic on airplane's channel!!)

He decides to take a media and communications degree because social media is the only thing he's ever been good at. He sees a guy with a PIDW sticker on his laptop in his lectures, and they become study buddies! It's great!

They talk about their shared appreciation for PIDW probably more than they should. Study Buddy is pretty chill, he teases Shen Yuan for his BingGe obsession. Shen Yuan doesn't want to be a dick, so he doesn't really slag it off as much as he would online? And Study Buddy LIKES talking about the monsters and how cool Bing-gege is!! Maybe they talk enough that Shen Yuan figures maybe there's a reason he was never into wife plots? Maybe he's actually just... Not into... You know.... Girls? That way??? And Study Buddy is super chill? And maybe it's okay to talk about that stuff???

Meanwhile he's still chatting with airplane, who gets invited to attend a con to be on some kind of panel. He asks cucumber-bro along because he's shitting BRICKS, and he wants someone there who will, like... be in his corner?

Turns out Shen Yuan already has tickets because he and his study buddy were planning to go!

Oh, and look at that! He and airplane are booked at the same hotel! It's convenient!

They decide to meet in the lobby.

Shen Yuan and his study buddy go to their separate rooms to freshen up and rest, with a plan to meet for breakfast. Thirty minutes later, they're both back in the lobby.

Both of them are "waiting for someone."

Both of their "someones" are running LATE.

Shen yuan messages Airplane.

Study Buddy's phone buzzes.

Their eyes meet.

No fucking WAY. this is the guy who talked him through his LBH inspired GAY AWAKENING!! The friendly and supportive "bro" he has COMPLICATED FEELINGS ABOUT??? And that's AIRPLANE?

He literally spent five minutes TALKING ABOUT LBH'S MUSCULAR CHEST AND STAR STUDDED GAZE... to AIRPLANE????

Has he really spent MONTHS coming to the terms with the fact that AIRPLANE is kinda....

Could Bingge maybe portal in with Xin Mo and drag Shen Yuan to hell, because he can't deal with this 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

[lemonshrockey]

Starting my first willmack fic! Its omegaverse plus VERY protective Mama Toff. Here's a little snippet so please let me know your guys' thoughts!!