#a cool sounding name for an alter ego

[giffingthingsss]

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Slippery Rendezvous

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha doesn’t approve of your feelings for Bucky despite your many attempts to convince her that he is the man for you. What else can you do when she forbids you to date any of her friends?

Squares Filled: natasha romanoff / black widow (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

You wake up to an empty bed. What did you expect? That he’d stay? Bucky isn’t known to spend the night after fucking you but you keep wishing he would. You run your hand down his side of the bed and feel the cool sheets. He must have left early in the morning so that your sister wouldn’t see him.

It’s not like she hates him but she hates the idea of you being with any one of her “coworkers”. Natasha isn’t shy when it comes to relationships and often encourages you to go out and have fun with different men. She loves dating even if she doesn’t show it, and you love telling her about all the dates you get to go on. The issue is that she doesn’t want you dating anyone she knows. She knows the baggage that comes with the men she knows and doesn’t want you mixed up with it.

You went to University to get a degree as a voice actor. You’ve gotten gigs across the country but ultimately settled in New York where you got a job working on a popular animated television series. You’re already in your third season and have no plans of stopping anytime soon. Natasha loves to tell you how normal you are and how different you are compared to the shit she goes through every day.

You’re not a spy and you have no desire to be a spy. You’re not Natasha’s biological sister because you came into her life well after she got done with the Red Room training. She was on a mission to kill your father for all the bad shit he has been doing. You hated the man and had always wanted to leave. However, your mother died at birth and you were a minor at the time. He always hid his shady shit which is why he didn’t get convicted for anything.

She saved you and she adopted you a couple of years later. You don’t blame her for your father’s death even if she did pull the trigger. He’s a bad man who is rotting in Hell and you’re better off for it. Now, you have a successful job and are in love with the infamous Winter Soldier. Only he doesn’t know it and if he does, he doesn’t do anything about it.

You two met when Natasha was having a party at the Avengers Compound. She didn’t want you to go but you insisted that with her by your side, you’ll be fine. It’s not like the Avengers are going to pick a fight with you or anything. Even Bruce had his alter ego under control, so she relented and let you come.

Her world is and was much different than yours. She told stories of how she went to space, how she kicked someone’s ass, and how she infiltrated an organization. All you have to show for is the work you’ve done for entertainment. You’re not nearly as special as any of them but Bucky makes you feel like you are.

He kept to himself in the corner of the room drinking something that wasn’t alcohol when you approached him.

“Hi. Do you mind if I join you?”

“No, go ahead,” he clears his throat.

“I’m Y/N. I’m Natasha’s sister. Adopted sister, actually, but she feels like a real one to me. What’s your name?”

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” he chuckles.

“I know who you are but I’d thought I’d be polite and let you introduce yourself instead of assuming I know everything about you.”

“Right,” he nods. “I’m Bucky.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

You two fell into conversation that lasted well past the party. Natasha had a secret thing for Steve and didn’t mind staying over as long as you were safe and okay with staying. You left that night with thoughts of Bucky and when the next time you were going to see him, but Natasha didn’t share your enthusiasm.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do but I don’t want you seeing Bucky.”

“Funny. That sounds exactly like you telling me what to do,” you scoff.

“I mean it, Y/N. Bucky is a good guy now but he wasn’t always like this. He’s not all the way back yet and I don’t want you getting hurt. With any of them. They have too much baggage and you don’t need something like that in your life.”

You look out the window in annoyance.

“I just spent the last two hours talking to a guy who made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. I’m not saying I want to marry the guy but I felt something that I haven’t felt with any of the guys I’ve dated.”

“I knew bringing you to that party was a bad idea,” she scoffs. “You’re not seeing Bucky. End of story.”

“I am an adult, Nat. Let me make my own decisions. Let me decide if he’s worth the heartbreak.”

“He will do more than break your heart. He will break you. He didn’t get his name for nothing. His body count is well into the hundreds if not thousands. I am not worried about him breaking your heart. I’m worried about him killing you. I mean it, Y/N. Stay away from that one.”

You tried, God knows you tried, but there is something about Bucky that you couldn’t stay away from. You formed friendships with Wanda and Thor which gave you an excuse of going to the compound where you knew Bucky was living. Wanda caught on pretty quickly at what you were trying to do since she can read minds and all that, and she agreed to keep your affair with Bucky from your sister.

You’re not trying to hurt Natasha but you fell for Bucky and fell for him hard. He just never stays the night like you hope he does.

You get out of bed and walk to the bathroom where you hear the shower going. Natasha must be in there. You slip in and knock on the door to let her know that you’re inside the bathroom with her.

“Hey, Nat, I’m just going to brush my teeth. I’ll be out shortly.”

You slip in, close the door behind you, and walk over to the sink.

“I’m not Nat.”

You tense when you hear Bucky’s deep voice but then smile when you realize he slept the night in your bed. The curtain slides to the side just enough for him to peek his head out of it, and you turn to face him.

“I thought you left last night.”

“Nope. I wanted to stay the night with you. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

He closes the curtain again and resumes cleaning himself.

“Got any plans today?”

You’re about to answer when you hear the front door slam open and shut. Natasha is the only one who has a key so she must be back. If she found out Bucky has not only been dating you but secretly fucking you, she’d have a heart attack and probably kill him.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” The bathroom door shakes and you do the first thing that comes to mind. You quickly hop in the shower, fully clothed, and look at Bucky who smirks. The door opens and Nat walks in. “Y/N?”

“I’m in the shower!” Bucky’s mouth opens so you place your hand over it so he understands he needs to be quiet. “What do you want?”

“Listen, Steve and some of the guys are having a cookout at Clint’s farm. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

“Really? You’ll let me go?”

“I feel bad and I shouldn’t keep you away from your friends.”

“Is Bucky going to be there?”

Bucky nods and looks at you with mischievous eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“I invited you because Wanda and Thor will be there. They’re your friends.”

“I know.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine, Nat. I’ll hang with them.”

“Okay. We leave in an hour.”

She leaves the bathroom and you remove your hand from Bucky’s mouth knowing you didn’t need it to be there. He knows Natasha’s opinion of him and how she wouldn’t approve of you two dating. He just wanted to feel your hands on him if he’s being honest.

“Great, now I’m all wet. Look what you did.”

“I like it when you’re wet,” he smirks.

You shove his shoulder and scoff playfully but he grabs you and pulls you into him. He slides his hands into your hair and kisses you. He must forget the situation you’re in because you can feel his growing arousal on your stomach.

“No, Bucky, we should stop. I will not be tempted into shower sex again. Remember what happened last time?”

“Damn, my arm malfunctions one time and you’re triggered.”

“Can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself at this cookout?”

“No,” he chuckles. “It’s gonna be hard not to. Now I’m picturing you wet.”

“Hurry up and leave before she finds you in here. I’d rather not know what a fight between Black Widow and the Winter Soldier looks like.”

You slip out of the shower and back to your room without your sister noticing. While you’d like your relationship to be out in the open, sneaking around is just too much damn fun.

x

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[seongwars]

strangers by nature | ii

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.4K Warnings: mingi being a mean brat, puppy antics, swearing, hints of infidelity, slight angst

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A hollow laugh escaped Mingi as he sped through the empty streets, the night blurring around him. The bitter sound echoed in the car, mirroring the anger swirling inside him. He could still see the look on your face, that fierce, unyielding defiance in your eyes as you’d confronted him without a trace of hesitation.

"Maybe you should have fought harder against your parents instead of just rolling over every time they threw you a command. Including this marriage.”

You hadn’t raised your voice, hadn’t even looked angry. But the certainty in your words had cut deeper than anything he could remember. You’d said it so effortlessly, without a shred of remorse or regret, like you hadn’t given his ego a second thought.

And it infuriated him. 

Mingi was accustomed to people bending to his will, not challenging it. His life had always been cushioned by entitlement; his family’s wealth and influence ensured that. People smiled, nodded, and let him have his way—whether it was his colleagues, teachers, or anyone who understood the weight of the Song name. When he wanted something, he got it; when he didn't want something, someone else made it disappear. Life was simple, easy. Predictable.

He’d assumed you’d be no different. The arrangement your parents had orchestrated was supposed to be convenient, uncomplicated. You’d go along with it quietly, play your part, and leave him to live as he pleased.

But he’d been wrong. Terribly, wrong.

From the moment you entered his life, you were a force to be reckoned with—unyielding and resolute, unafraid to show how little you cared for the life planned for you. 

News of your attempted escape had reached him before he even saw you. You’d made it as far as the airport, ticket in hand, your heart set on a life free from the restraints of duty. But then, your parents intervened, having anticipated your plans. They’d sent the authorities to intercept you at the gate, dragging you back home just as freedom was within reach.

You argued, you bargained, and you did everything short of bolting a second time as they walked you into that boardroom on your wedding day. Mingi had been there, watching as you approached, and even in that moment, you’d made it clear through your narrowed gaze and rigid posture that you were entering this marriage under protest.

Though you resisted the marriage and all it represented, you held a deep sense of empathy for him, understanding that he too was bound by this fate. Your efforts to extend an olive branch and build some semblance of a friendship, only served as a reminder of how deeply entangled your lives had become against his will.

And Mingi always made it clear that no matter how much you tried to extend kindness or bridge the distance, he was set on tearing it down.

When your parents organized a small birthday dinner for you, Mingi didn’t even bother to show. He didn’t call, didn’t text—he simply forgot. The sting of his absence felt like a gut punch, even if it was hardly surprising. His indifference when you mentioned it later was almost worse. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” he shrugged, barely glancing up from his phone, his tone cool, unaffected. The casual dismissal in his voice, the complete lack of apology, was almost worse than his absence itself. 

The implication was clear: your birthday, and by extension, you, were not significant enough to be remembered.

It wasn’t until later, when meeting your cousin Jongho for lunch, that the truth hit even harder. Apparently, he’d heard from a friend of a friend that Ahri had posted on social media about her “spontaneous Tokyo getaway” with Mingi, complete with photos of their cozy seats on a private plane and playful captions flaunting their lavish trip. 

Then, there was the night San hosted his charity art auction, one of the biggest events of the year. It was the kind of evening meant to bring people together for a good cause, filled with artists and patrons, all of them dedicated to supporting the community. 

But Mingi had a different idea in mind. He arrived with Ahri, both of them looking effortlessly stunning and either blissfully unaware or fully conscious of the painful message they conveyed. Your in-laws were mortified, apologizing to you profusely, trying to smooth over the spectacle their son had created.

“When will you grow up and stop making a mockery of our family?” Mr. Song fumed through gritted teeth. 

"I thought we had a deal," Mingi replied coldly. "All I had to do was agree to this arrangement, and I could still have Ahri and live my life however I wanted."

Mr. Song’s face tightened with rage, his voice a low growl as he struggled to keep it down. 

“What I meant, Mingi, was for you to show some tact! Not to flaunt Ahri around and humiliate your spouse in front of everyone. It’s childish, and it reflects poorly on you. The least you can do is respect Y/N!”

“Respect Y/N?” Mingi scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “Respecting her would mean pretending it’s something real. But we all know why this is happening—more money and more power for you. None of this has anything to do with me or what I want.”

“You may resent it, but you are benefiting from it all the same. And that means you owe Y/N some basic decency, if nothing else.”

“This arrangement took my choices away. It trapped me in a life I never wanted. And now you’re telling me to be grateful for it? To pretend that this marriage means something to me?”

“When will you stop being selfish and think about others for once? Consider that Y/N never asked for this either.”

As if disregarding you in private wasn’t enough, Mingi took every chance to publicly humiliate you, constantly reminding you of your place—always on the outside, looking in.

The situation reached a boiling point at last year’s Gold Gala when he arrived completely drunk, blatantly reinforcing that your feelings and the event's social grace meant nothing to him.

As he staggered through the hall, his laugh rang out too loudly, drawing stares from guests who exchanged uncomfortable glances. His gestures grew more careless and exaggerated with every passing moment, completely oblivious to the hurt on your face, tainting one of the most important nights of your life.

“No, I’m not much into charity—though I guess marrying Ms. Choi counts.”

“I’m not here to support her, she begged me to be here. Begged me to care. Pathetic, right?”

By the time you arrived home, the tension was suffocating. You could still feel the embarrassment, lingering on you like a second skin you couldn’t escape.

“Don’t kid yourself into thinking this arrangement means anything. You're nobody to me.”

"Of course I know that!” The words flew out before you could stop yourself, raw and jagged. “All I asked was for you to be there because this event meant everything to me. Everything!" 

"I thought we could at least be civil, Mingi.”

“Civil?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with disdain. "You’re so desperate to play house, to fool yourself into thinking I’ll somehow feel something for you? By begging for it?" 

His gaze was cold, dismissive, as if you were nothing more than a stranger who had intruded into his life, uninvited.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer audacity of his words. Who was this pompous prick, standing here acting as if you’d imposed your existence on him? The last thread holding your patience snapped, and before you knew it, a dry, humorless laugh escaped you.

“Feel something?” you spat, unable to hold back the fury building in your chest. 

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re a catch either. Think whatever you want,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unwavering, “but I’m not the one who needs someone else to validate my worth!”

He blinked, momentarily stunned, his expression shifting as he tried to brush off your words with a sneer. But you could tell that something you’d said had struck a nerve.

“You’ve never cared about anything, Mingi. You don’t even know what it means to care about someone or something—because you’ve always had everything handed to you. There’s nothing that’s ever been meaningful to you because you’ve never had to fight for it!”

It infuriated Mingi—the way you exposed all the things he hated most about himself, holding a mirror up to the person he tried so hard to ignore. And that was something he couldn’t allow. He needed to keep you at a distance, to shut you down. 

Because if he didn't, he feared you might penetrate his defenses entirely—and he couldn't risk that.

As he sat in the warm, soapy water, Mingi’s tiny paws barely poked out from beneath a cloud of bubbles. He lifted a paw, watching droplets fall into the water, creating soft ripples that lapped against his sides. It was surreal. He had once scoffed at the very idea of being anything less than in control, of ever letting himself be so openly…helpless.

Everything looked bigger, more intimidating from down here and he felt smaller, more than he ever had.

Your gentle laughter pulled him back as you poured a bit more soap into the bath, sending a fresh wave of bubbles his way. You dipped your hand into the water, playfully scooping up the suds and sprinkling them over his head. 

He wiggled, instinctively shaking his head as the bubbles landed, but they clung stubbornly to his nose and ears, making him sneeze. The tiny sneeze seemed to amuse you even more, your laughter ringing out, warm and unguarded.

“We’ll find something for you to eat after this. Do you like chicken?” you cooed, your voice warm and sweet as you continued fussing over him. “That reminds me, we need to stop by the pet store.”

Mingi blinked up at you, the sound of your voice oddly comforting, even as it filled him with a peculiar ache he didn’t quite know what to do with. Here you were, utterly unaware that this tiny, scruffy puppy was your own husband, yet you treated him with a care and tenderness he felt he didn't deserve.

“I should probably think of a name for you,” you murmured thoughtfully, rinsing away the last bits of sudsy bubbles. 

His little face scrunched up as he shook his head, sending droplets flying. You grabbed the softest towel, bundling him up so that only his nose and eyes peeked out. Placing him on the bathroom counter, you noticed how his tiny body almost disappeared within the towel’s folds, leaving just a pair of adoring eyes staring up at you.

“You’re so tiny, you might get blown away!” you teased, testing the warmth of the hair dryer on your wrist. His expression turned into the cutest scowl imaginable, as if he was about to bark out a protest.

I’m not little! Mingi gritted, scrunching his tiny brows and squirming as if to show you he was tougher than he looked. He let out a bark, to prove you wrong.

“Alright, sorry, I didn’t mean it,” you giggled. 

You began to gently dry him, moving the warm air over his fur. His eyelids started to droop, each puff of warm air lulling him into a sleepy daze. 

“Pom Pom’s a cute name. What do you think?” you mused with a laugh, scratching him behind his tiny ear. Mingi managed to huff out a small whimper in protest in an attempt to communicate that you certainly were not to call him by that name. 

“Fine, fine. How about…Maro? You’re white and fluffy like a marshmallow?” You tilted your head, smiling as you gently tapped the tip of his nose.

Mingi grumbled, feeling his pride melt under the sheer humiliation, but he went along with the name. Despite his desire to resist, he couldn’t deny the comfort of being doted on—even if it meant accepting his temporary fate as your “Maro.”

Mingi stirred awake, feeling an unfamiliar warmth against his tiny body, the soft texture of grass beneath him. Blinking his eyes open, he was met with a new world—everything was…bigger. The trees stretched toward the sky, and the distant hum of city life felt overwhelming. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his mind struggling to adjust to this small, delicate form.

Everything smelled sharper, richer: the earthy scent of wet grass, a faint whiff of antiseptic, and…something achingly familiar, pulling him forward as if his paws moved on their own accord.

Guided by the scent, he scrambled over roots and pushed through damp bushes, his little body squeezing through the brambles. As he finally emerged on the other side, he froze. Just a few feet away, sitting alone on a bench, was the source of the familiar scent—Y/N?

His wife sat there, hands clasped tightly, her gaze distant and tired, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. But just as he took another small step forward, her eyes lifted and fell upon him. Her expression brightened, and the faintest hint of a smile warmed her face as she crouched down, reaching out to him.

“Puppy!” she gasped with an excitement that Mingi could feel down to his little paws. She beckoned him closer, and he trotted toward her, heart racing, wondering if somehow, even in this form, she could recognize him.

You held him close as you left the hospital, your hand gently supporting his back as he rested against your chest. Once you reached the car, you eased into the driver’s seat and settled him in your lap, feeling his soft fur beneath your fingers as you stroked him reassuringly.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your contacts until you reached your mother-in-law’s number. Taking a steadying breath, you hit the call button, hoping she’d understand your exit.

"Hello? Everything alright, Y/N?"

“I just wanted to let you know I’m heading home,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “There are a few things I need to take care of, but I’ll make sure to call later to check in.”

There was a brief pause on her end before she answered, “Of course, dear. Take your time, I’ll talk to you later.”

As you ended the call, Mingi blinked up at you, feeling strangely vulnerable in your arms. Being held and cherished like this was both comforting and overwhelming, a rare moment of intimacy that left him feeling exposed. The realization that someone could care for him so deeply stirred something inside him—a reminder of just how unfamiliar this feeling was, and how unsettling it felt to let someone in.

“Ready to go home?”

On the drive back, you hummed a quiet tune, the same one you always sang absentmindedly when you thought no one was listening. As he nestled into your lap, he felt himself relax, leaving behind a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in ages.

The bell above the pet store door jingled as you stepped inside, your eyes scanning aisles lined with every kind of pet accessory imaginable.

You wandered the aisles in a daze as Mingi, in his puppy form, bounced excitedly, his tiny tail whipping back and forth with unrestrained enthusiasm. His instincts urged him to sniff and mouth every item you tossed into the cart—toys, treats, leashes, a bed, and a sweater.

For a moment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief—shopping for puppy supplies while your husband’s life was hanging by a thread was surreal.

“Your puppy’s really cute.”

You turned to see a man holding onto the leash of a doberman that looked every bit as sharp as its owner. The dog sat obediently by his side, dark eyes focused and alert, muscles taut beneath its sleek coat. The man’s presence was striking, especially with his stoic demeanor that made him appear almost statuesque.

“Thanks!” you nodded, smiling. “He’s really sweet, even if he’s got a bit of an attitude.” Your eyes drifted to the gentle way his hand stroked between the doberman’s ears. 

“You look like you know what you’re doing, though.”

The man chuckled. “Thanks, he’s actually my first dog. I adopted him when his previous owner passed away. His name is Hetmon.”

Your expression softened. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” you replied sympathetically, kneeling down to greet him. 

“Can I say hi?” you asked, extending your hand for Hetmon to sniff.

The doberman’s wet nose pressed against your palm, and he let out a soft huff before nuzzling his head into your hand. You laughed, scratching him behind his ear, marveling at his calm and steady temperament. 

Now, hold on! Mingi’s eyes snapped up as he watched you fawning over this stranger’s dog. His little heart thudded, an unfamiliar surge of irritation bubbling up inside him. 

Why are you smiling like that? Why are you speaking to another man? Get away from him!

He let out a little growl, then puffed up his tiny chest and erupted into a string of yappy barks, standing tall on his hind legs in the cart. His little nose scrunched up as he tried to look intimidating, but it was more endearing than anything else. You glanced over, bemused, as he glowered with all the fierceness his tiny form could muster.

“I think your puppy is upset,” the man pointed out with a chuckle.

“Aww, don’t worry, Maro,” you cooed, “you’re still my favorite.” 

You scooped him up, planting a kiss right between his ears, which sent his little tail wagging against his will. You set him down gently on the floor, letting him meet Hetmon face-to-face. Mingi’s bravado wavered slightly as he looked up at the towering Doberman, but he squared his tiny shoulders, refusing to back down.

“Is Hetmon good with other dogs?” you asked, watching them carefully.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a total softie,” the man reassured you. “He may look tough, but he loves making new friends.”

As if on cue, Hetmon dipped into a playful bow. Mingi froze, watching the giant dog before him as he lowered his head in an exaggerated invitation to play. For a moment, the puppy tried to keep his air of superiority, giving a tiny huff as if he wasn’t the least bit interested.

But then he gave a low, friendly woof and Mingi’s puppy instincts kicked in. He took a tentative step forward, then another, his own tail starting to sway. Before he knew it, he pounced forward with his little paws outstretched, mimicking Hetmon’s play bow.

“Maro, you made a friend!” you cheered, watching in delight as the puppy bounced around with the older dog. Pulling out your phone, you couldn’t resist capturing the moment, captivated by the unlikely friendship forming before you.

“Looks like opposites attract,” Hetmon’s owner mused as he watched the two dogs circle each other, darting forward and bouncing back and forth.

“I’m Yeosang, by the way,” he added, turning to you with a friendly smile.

“Y/N,” you replied. “Nice to meet you. Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, actually, just a couple of streets over,” Yeosang said with a nod. He looked down at Hetmon, who was now reclining on his back, seemingly unfazed by the puppy climbing on him. 

“What about you?”

You smiled, watching the scene with amusement. “Same. Maro’s also my first dog, so I’ve been figuring things out as I go.”

Yeosang’s expression softened, his smile encouraging. “I remember that feeling. It’s a little overwhelming at first, but you get the hang of it. If you ever need any advice or a friendly ear, just reach out. There’s a park nearby that’s dog-friendly. I usually go there in the mornings if you’d like to join sometime.”

“I’d really like that. Thanks.”

Yeosang's easygoing grin faltered as he felt a tug at his shoelace. He looked down to see the tiny pup gnawing determinedly, jaws snapping at the string.

How dare you speak to her so casually! She’s a married woman! Mingi seethed internally, giving the string another sharp tug. Why did it bother him so much to see Yeosang chatting with you? He hadn't cared much about you before, but seeing you smile at another man so naturally baffled him.

What is wrong with me? He let out a low growl—though intended to be intimidating—would have been menacing if he weren’t so tiny. Right now, all he wanted was for Yeosang to take a step back, to stop talking to you like you belonged to anyone else but him—even though he couldn't say why.

“Maro, what are you up to?” you laughed, crouching down to pick him up. You slipped your hands beneath his belly, lifting him gently. But Mingi wasn’t done making his point. 

Nestled in your arms, Mingi twisted slightly, nudging your left hand insistently with his head. He pressed his nose right against your ring, his puppy eyes wide with urgency. 

See this? She’s taken! He gave a little huff and looked back at Yeosang with the tiniest scowl he could manage.

Yeosang, oblivious to the true intentions behind the pup’s actions, chuckled softly. “Looks like he’s tired. Puppies need lots of sleep, you know.”

“Sounds like someone needs a nap,” you agreed, gently setting the little ball of jealousy back into the cart.

"Oh, before I go," Yeosang continued, reaching into his pocket, "here's my number."

Mingi’s ears perked up, and his tail stopped wagging immediately. If he could talk, he’d be grumbling a thousand complaints. But instead, he glared up at Yeosang, hoping his intense puppy stare would get his message across: Back off.

⋆

The last twenty-four hours had been nothing short of a whirlwind: the accident, waking up in a completely different form, and now trying to adjust to this strange new reality. He was still Mingi, still aware of his responsibilities and tasks, but now he had to figure out how to accomplish them…as a puppy.

He padded around the penthouse, his tiny paws making soft clicks on the polished floor as he aimlessly wandered, bored out of his mind now that you were both back from the pet store. The excitement of the outing had quickly worn off, and now all he could do was sulk in the silence of the house.

His little tail swished back and forth as he circled the living room, kitchen, your piano, and the second floor of the penthouse. Finally, his gaze landed on the door to his room. A mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes, and with a determined wag of his tail, he marched toward it.

You paced around the living room, contemplating how to propose your idea to your mother-in-law: staying overnight once a week with Mingi. The thought of him spending nights alone in the suite, surrounded only by machines, unsettled you. He wasn't exactly your biggest fan—he’d made it clear where his heart truly lay, and it wasn’t with you. Yet, the notion of someone always being there, watching over him, brought you a small measure of comfort amid the uncertainty.

As the worry gnawed at you, you knew you had to act. Taking a deep breath, you picked up the phone and dialed your mother-in-law.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me,” you said, doing your best to sound composed. “I just got back from running errands and wanted to propose something.”

Her voice carried that usual guarded curiosity. “What are you suggesting?”

You respected your mother-in-law’s loyalty to her family, even if her protectiveness sometimes blinded her to Mingi’s faults. She had always been gracious to you, maintaining a sense of decorum that made you feel welcome but not entirely at ease. 

“I thought we could work out a schedule to stay overnight with Mingi at the hospital.”

There was a brief pause before she spoke, her voice carefully polite. “You’re very thoughtful, dear,” she began, “but…maybe it’s not necessary to stay all night. The nurses are attentive, and they promised to call us if anything changes.”

You glanced around the penthouse, searching for Maro, who had slipped away at some point. The quiet absence of the dog only added to the heavy silence, making the place feel even emptier.

“I have full confidence in his care team,” you replied, forcing each word into a polite, measured tone. 

“But I think Mingi would feel more supported if someone were there with him, at least some of the time. I was thinking I could stay overnight once or twice a week? Just so he doesn’t feel…forgotten.”

Mrs. Song paused just a moment, enough for you to feel that familiar flicker of hope—maybe she’d feel the same worry, feel something for her son that went deeper than surface-level appearances. 

But when she spoke, her words rang hollow. “Are you sure?” She hesitated, as if weighing how much emotion to offer before she could close herself off again. “I don’t want you to burn yourself out.”

“I’m sure. And I’ll take care of myself, I promise,” you replied, careful to keep any bitterness out of your voice.

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, I suppose there’s no one he’d be happier to see than you when he wakes up.”

You let the comment hang in the air, refraining from answering. The truth was far more complicated—it wasn’t about who Mingi wanted to see. It was about reminding him he wasn’t completely abandoned, despite how much he’d tried to push you away.

Murmuring a quick goodbye, you ended the call and let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, feeling a strange relief as the line clicked dead.

Standing in the quiet of the penthouse, you wondered how it was possible to care so deeply and feel so estranged at the same time. You exhaled slowly, taking a moment to let the frustration settle before setting off to find Maro, hoping the small presence of the dog might be the comfort you needed.

Mingi paused in front of the door, cocking his head and giving it a long, assessing look. The handle was far out of reach, far higher than any normal dog could ever hope to reach. 

With a huff, he pressed his tiny front paws against the door, trying to push and pull with all his might. When that failed, he gave up entirely on the handle and decided on a new strategy: digging.

He squatted down, wiggling his little rear end before he thrust his paws forward in an exaggerated motion, trying to dig under the door. His tiny claws scrabbled uselessly at the polished floor, making little scratching noises that seemed comically futile against the sleek, smooth surface.

He stopped for a moment, eyes narrowing in concentration, before he gave it another go—this time, with more vigor, his body wriggling in earnest as though the door might just give way if he showed it enough determination.

“Maro? What are you doing?” you asked, catching sight of the fluffball nosing determinedly at Mingi’s bedroom door.

He froze, glancing back at you with wide, innocent eyes, but his resolve didn’t waver. He turned back to the door, his eyes narrowing as if silently pleading with it to just open. 

You stifled a laugh at his antics. “Sorry, baby boy, but that room’s off limits.”

Your life with Mingi had been defined by boundaries—drawn lines, quiet distances, and spaces kept respectfully separate. Separate rooms, separate lives, and a marriage in name only. The closed door was a boundary, one you’d both agreed to uphold.

But it’s my room! He insisted with a bark of protest, his frustration evident. He didn’t want the carefully arranged, supposedly comfortable dog bed that sat innocently by the window. He wanted his own room, his own bed, and his own space.

“I don’t think Mingi would appreciate it if I let you in there,” you added wistfully.

Mingi could sense something in your voice—a sadness buried beneath your usual composed demeanor. His ears perked as he tilted his head, studying the way your shoulders slumped just slightly, the way your eyes lingered on the closed door before looking away. 

In that moment, he recognized that despite the walls between you, you were still here, trying to make the best of a life shaped by distance.

Letting out a small, resigned huff, he slowly padded over to the dog bed by the window, casting one last longing look at the door. Then, in a dramatic display, he flopped onto his back with a sigh, his little paws stretching up into the air, his fluffy belly exposed, hoping it might coax even the smallest smile from you.

Mingi wasn’t thrilled about giving up his room, but he figured if he could cheer you up—even a little—it was worth it. Because he knew, perhaps more than he wanted to admit, how lonely it must be for you, living in a world of closed doors.

"Thanks so much for meeting us here!" you greeted Yeosang warmly, handing him a cup of hot chocolate. His eyes lit up with a grateful smile as he accepted it, glancing down at Hetmon, who was already bouncing in place with excitement.

“No worries at all! I did say I’d be happy to answer any questions about dogs,” Yeosang replied, his gaze shifting to Maro, who sat at your feet, fixated on what would come next in your conversation.

You knelt down, scratching Maro gently behind his ears as the weight of your question settled in your chest. A tightness formed in your throat, and you hesitated, glancing up at Yeosang.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something…a little more serious, if that’s okay.”

Yeosang’s face softened, his usual bright energy shifting to a gentle calm as he took in your expression. His caring demeanor radiated warmth, an almost tangible reassurance that everything would be alright. 

“Of course,” he replied, his voice soft but encouraging. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

You unhooked Mingi from the leash, giving him a gentle nudge forward. “Go on, Maro,” you encouraged, motioning toward Hetmon, who was practically vibrating, his tail whipping the air behind him like a propeller.

"Hey, do you wanna play chase?" Hetmon asked eagerly, prancing in a tight circle around Mingi.

"We can also play fetch! My dad brought my favorite ball!"

But Mingi sat firmly in place, his tiny body angled away from Hetmon, focused entirely on your conversation with Yeosang. He narrowed his eyes, stubbornly ignoring the playful advances. As far as he was concerned, Yeosang’s angelic demeanor deserved the highest level of suspicion.

“No,” the puppy pouted, his voice stubborn and unmoving.

Undeterred, Hetmon scooted closer, nudging Mingi’s side with his nose. "Come on, just one game! I’ll even let you catch me!" He bounced in front of Mingi, crouching low in an exaggerated play bow, his tail wagging furiously.

Mingi huffed, his small body stiffening as he resisted the pull of Hetmon’s enthusiasm. He cast the doberman a sidelong glare that would’ve been intimidating—if he were anything bigger than a fluffball.

"No, I want to stay here," Mingi grumbled. "Your father is trying to hit on my wife."

Hetmon tilted his head, blinking with wide-eyed innocence. "That can’t be your wife; she’s not a dog. She’s your mom."

Mingi’s tiny temper flared, but he reminded himself he was dealing with someone with the mental equivalent of a toddler.

"Look, I don’t expect you to understand, but she’s my wife. If I tell you what happened, would you leave me alone?"

Hetmon sat back, pausing thoughtfully, his tail still wagging. "Okay, I’ll listen!”

Mingi sighed, rolling his eyes as if explaining was a chore. "Alright, so before I got...uh, transformed," he said, waving a paw at his small, fluffy body with obvious disdain, 

"I was married to Y/N. Then I got into a car accident."

Hetmon’s eyes went wide with awe, tail wagging in anticipation. "So… you died and became a dog?"

"No!" Mingi barked, his chest puffed. "I was transformed into one because I did bad things.” The words came out quietly, almost like a confession, and he glanced away, embarrassed. 

“I have three months to complete three tasks, or else I’m stuck like this… forever."

Hetmon tilted his head, his big eyes full of innocent curiosity as he tried to wrap his mind around Mingi’s words. He watched Mingi for a moment, then his tail gave a tentative wag.

“What do you have to do? Can I help?” Hetmon asked eagerly. 

“My dad says we always have to help friends!”

Friends. The word stung more than Mingi expected, a sudden reminder of how few people he truly trusted or felt close to. Yunho was really his only friend, the one person he could count on without question. 

He shifted uncomfortably, his thoughts drifting to the tight circle of people he called acquaintances: the other Choi’s, the son of Park Enterprises… all hand-picked connections meant to strengthen his family’s standing, but none of those relationships had ever felt genuine. 

Had he done this on purpose? Had he pushed people away to keep himself safe, to avoid the risk of betrayal or disappointment? Maybe he’d chosen solitude to protect himself from the sting of being left behind—but he hadn’t expected it to feel so empty now, as he sat here realizing that even a dog like Hetmon was willing to reach out with kindness.

“Okay, well...I guess,” Mingi sighed. 

You swallowed hard, fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup as you fought to steady yourself. The sunlight hit your wedding ring, casting a soft glow over the diamonds—a gleaming, constant reminder of the life you were bound to. In a way, it felt more like a chain. Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. 

“My…husband was in a really bad car wreck the other night. He’s in a coma right now,” you said, the words thick and heavy, as if each one were being forced out. 

The reality of it all settled in the air between you and Yeosang, and you could feel his compassion in the way he listened to you. His brow creased with concern as he took in your words, his quiet presence urging you to press on.

“I’ve made arrangements to spend at least one night a week at the hospital,” you continued, forcing yourself to look down at your cup rather than meet his eyes. 

“It’s hard to explain, but I guess I don’t want him to be…alone, even if he can’t really tell.”

Your voice trailed off as a feeling of helplessness welled up within you. You wanted to believe that Mingi could somehow sense your presence, that maybe your being there would make even a small difference. But at the same time, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that your visits might mean more to you than they did to him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s a lot to carry. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you. But you’re doing your best to be there for him, even when it’s painful.”

You felt a slight relief in his understanding, in the way he didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the weight of Yeosang’s empathy. 

“I also don’t mean to impose but…would you mind letting Maro stay over just one night a week? Until I figure things out?” you asked sheepishly. “He’s still so little, and I don’t want him to feel abandoned while I’m gone.”

“Of course, Y/N, don't feel bad for asking!” Yeosang nodded enthusiastically.

“Maro will be in great hands, I promise. I know Hetmon would love having him over! It’ll be like…boys' night, and I can build a fort for them, we can eat snacks…”

Yeosang’s eyes sparkled with genuine excitement as he spoke, his infectious energy making you smile despite your concerns. He had a knack for making the most mundane plans sound like grand adventures, and his lighthearted spirit was always a comforting presence.

The unexpected kindness caught you off guard, causing your shoulders to relax.

“Really?” you murmured, struggling to believe that someone truly understood and wanted to help in such a straightforward yet meaningful way.

“You're dealing with so much right now. I'm glad to help, even if it's small.” For a moment, you felt a lump rise in your throat, the weight of his words grounding you in a world that often felt chaotic and uncertain.

“You don’t have to face all this on your own,” Yeosang added, his words carrying a depth that felt like a lifeline. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Hetmon barreling across the grassy field, with Maro bounding right behind him as they zig-zagged through the park. The sight of the two playing together made you smile.

“Hetmon, come have some water!” Yeosang called out. 

The doberman’s ears perked up, and he shifted course, galloping toward his owner, excited for his water break. Maro, bounded after him, and hopped up onto your lap, nuzzling into your arms.

“Maro, guess what! You’re going to have a sleepover with Hetmon!” you announced, patting him gently. The words slipped out with casual enthusiasm, thinking it’d be fun for him to spend a night with someone who’s growing so fond of him.

What!?

Mingi’s gaze darted from you to Yeosang, then to Hetmon, who was still wagging his tail, blissfully unaware of the turmoil stirring inside him.

Despite his best efforts to stay aloof and independent, he had come to rely on your presence—the warmth, the comfort, and the steady sense of grounding you brought to his strange new world. The thought of being without that, even for just a night, filled him with something he was unwilling to admit to himself: fear.

<< i | iii >>

a/n: ughhh my taglist is ugly, I can't tag more than 5 blogs to a line now, so forgive me for the formatting

taglist: @syubseokie @koyagifs @sunnysidesins @thedistractedwriter @notevenheretbh1

@molberto @litolmochi @intowxnderland @yn-reincarnate @lemonkait00

@corgilover20 @randomgworlypop @taegi1016 @almondtofu006 @ateezaddict24

@desi2go @beabatiny @sangilov-r @roomsofangel @symmieangela

@dumplingsyum @etaerealboy @fairylover68 @foxinnie8

@yoonrixx @jean-swolo @silent-potato @jiwoongsblondehair @sanriomilk

@sanniesbum

[blue-blue-blooms]

The First Date

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Your first date with Eddie doesn't go exactly as planned after you and your friends get taken and drugged by Russian spies, making him think that you stood him up.

Warnings: A little bit of angst.

2k words

Eddie Munson.

You'd seen him around school. He was loud, rough, and slightly intimidating. 

The first time you saw him was in the cafeteria, loudly speaking about the throes of capitalism, forced conformity, and the demonization of people whom society deemed 'different'. You mostly tuned people out during lunch, but it was hard to ignore Eddie. He was so captivating. You weren't sure if it was the way he used his entire body when making a point, aggressively gesticulating, or the way his face twisted and turned as he spoke, or just his general demeanor, that made everything he said sound so poignant. He hadn't really been in your orbit before, so outside your social circle. You were friends with people like Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler, not necessarily because you were popular but rather through shared trauma. There was something about going through life-altering events and near-death experiences that really bonded people for life. 

The first time you spoke to Eddie was after you saw him taping a poster on a bulletin board outside the auditorium. 

Hellfire Club. D&D. 

"Hey, is that a D&D club?" you asked him.

He turned around, slightly startled, and looked at you with surprise. 

"Oh, hey! Didn't see you there. Yeah, it's a D&D club. I'm trying to recruit new members since we're running a bit low..." He replied, giving you a hesitant smile. 

He seemed a bit nervous, slightly tugging on his hair and anxiously tapping his foot. You're pretty sure you were making him nervous. You'd seen the way people like Steve treated people like Eddie, even though Steve had grown considerably after taking out a Demogorgon and watching his girlfriend nearly die. You'd seen the way Tommy and Carol used to laugh at the 'freaks', shoving them around in the hallways, making fun of their interests, like the time Tommy made someone in the band cry during a pep rally. The realization that Eddie was nervous because he expected you to do the same slightly hurt. 

"That's cool! This kid that I babysit—his name's Dustin, he really likes D&D. He plays it a lot with his other friends. Whenever I used to babysit him, he'd drag me to their games. I never really got it, mostly because any time I asked a question, Dustin would scream at me," you breathlessly ramble, "He's not a huge fan of anyone who doesn't get the point, like, right away."

It seemed that the more you rambled, the more at ease Eddie became, and suddenly he was laughing as you spoke. 

"Well, I promise that we don't yell at anyone in Hellfire. Only when we're excited," Eddie said, a small smile lingering on his lips as he looked at you, "Just in case you ever wanna join in."

"I might take you up on that offer. I've been pegged down the list of 'coolest teens' that Dustin knows, and my ego's taken a hit," you joked. 

You hadn't ended up joining Hellfire. But you and Eddie had become sort of friends. You'd see him around school. You were both in some of the same classes, you'd see him in the hallways and you'd wave at each other. Sometimes you'd see him in the parking lot after school and you'd chat for a bit. But that was the extent of it. You didn't grow closer until summer started and you got a job at Starcourt. You worked at Café Nocturne, right across from Scoops Ahoy where Steve had started working. Most days, you spent your lunch break lounging around Scoops Ahoy, eating free ice cream, and making fun of Steve with his co-worker Robin. Sometimes you wondered what Eddie was up to, not having seen him since summer started, and you found yourself hoping you'd see him around Starcourt. 

It wasn't until the second week of summer that you saw Eddie. The Café had been relatively quiet, only an old couple sitting in the far corner drinking lattes. You were trying to pass the time by making random drinks when you saw Eddie lingering by the cash register. 

"Eddie!" you said, surprising yourself by how loud you were. You cleared your throat awkwardly and shuffled over to him, sending him a shy smile. 

"Y/N? Hey, I didn't know you worked here," Eddie said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "It's nice to see you again, I was wondering where you went."

"Oh, just been making coffee...hanging out with my friends," you replied, "How's your summer been so far?"

"Erm, yeah, it's been okay. I've just been working, hanging out with Gareth and Jeff, writing some new music," Eddie replied.

"For Corroded Coffin, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, wow, how'd you know about that?" Eddie said, nervously twirling his hair. 

"Oh-um...I heard you talking about it in the cafeteria once," you responded, hoping you didn't sound like a stalker.

"Right, yeah, you should come see us sometime. We play in the Hide Out every Tuesday," Eddie said, as a shy grin crept on his face, "We kinda get a crowd, actually...of about five drunks."

You let out a small giggle, "That sounds nice. Unfortunately, I work every Tuesday. Maybe when school starts?" 

Eddie was slightly deflated at that, nodding his head in understanding. Not wanting to ruin your one chance at spending time with Eddie this summer, you hesitatingly asked, "Maybe we can hang out sometime? You could teach me D&D? I didn't get the chance to learn when you first offered..."

Eddie immediately perked up at that, nodding vigorously as he said, "Yeah! Yeah, that'd be great. I can totally do that. Erm, do you wanna meet here tomorrow at 7? We could grab some food-"

"Oh, I was hoping we could meet somewhere else. Maybe at Patty's diner? It's just that I spend all my time at Starcourt," you responded.

"Yeah, that works. Patty's at 7. It's a date," Eddie replied, before quickly backtracking. "Not like a date-date, I just meant, like, a platonic date. Like just friends hanging out, chilling, y'know? Unless you want it to be a date? It doesn't have to be! But, like-"

You cut him off before he could dig further into the hole he found himself in, giggling a little at how flustered he looked. "It's a date. A non-platonic, hopefully romantic, date."

"That's...that's great, yeah. I will see you then," Eddie said breathlessly, shuffling his way out as he raised a hand to wave goodbye, almost knocking into the table behind him as he left.

God, he's adorable. 

♡♡♡

"I swear to God Dustin, if we die in this elevator, I will strangle you with my bare hands," you grit out, pacing back and forth as everyone tried to reel in their panic, "I have a fucking date in two hours and if I miss it, I will literally end you."

"No one gives a shit about your stupid date," Dustin yelled, throwing his hands around wildly as Erica slammed a bottle of weird-looking fluid on the wall. You weren't even gonna try and deal with that, it looked like Robin had it handled as you watched her snatch the bottle from Erica's hands. 

Things escalated pretty quickly from there and suddenly you were lying on the floor of a bathroom cubicle, trying to make the room stop spinning. 

"Is this what it feels like to do drugs?" you groaned out, stretching on the disgusting tiles and praying that your head stopped pounding. 

"I wouldn't know," Robin replied, "But if it is, this sucks."

"Steve? Are you alive?" you asked, "I don't need you dying on me. You're my ride home." 

"I'm good," you heard him croak.

"Think we puked it all out?" you asked.

"Let's check...interrogate me." Robin said.

"When's the last time you peed your pants?" Steve asked, and you heard Robin let out a cackle, "Today."

"What the fuck, Robin?" you laughed.

"It was when they took out the bone saw. And only a little!" she defended herself, giggling with you. 

"I'm meant to be on a date," you moaned, "He's gonna think I stood him up. How am I meant to explain this shit?" 

"We'll figure it out," Steve replied, "Also, who's this guy anyway? You've been moaning about missing this date for, like, hours?"

"Yeah, it's getting kinda annoying," Robin added. 

"It's Eddie." you replied, crawling into the stall next to you and sitting down in front of Robin. "Eddie Munson. He's a senior. Long, curly, untamed hair. Really loud. Plays D&D."

"Wait, Eddie 'The Freak' Munson? Isn't he a drug dealer?" Steve asked, a little surprised. 

"Don't call him that!" you said, slightly defensive, "And I didn't know that. But if this is what drug consumption is like then he needs to stop."

As the drugs slowly purged out of your systems, and Steve tried to hit on Robin only to get rejected and have a heart-to-heart, the three of you found yourselves giggling hysterically in the dingy bathroom. It wasn't long until Dustin and Erica burst in and dragged you all out. As the night progressed, things only got worse. And soon, all of you were facing off a thirty-feet tall Mind Flayer and reeling from the loss that followed. Then the dust settled, a different story was fabricated, and everyone had to pretend to move on. And you had an apology to give.

♡♡♡

You didn't see Eddie until school started again. It was the first day back, hallways busy and bustling as the freshmen teetered around cluelessly. This year felt different, like there was some cosmic shift in the air. Everything seemed duller, void of any feeling. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but if you had to guess then it was probably the Starcourt 'fire' that had brought on this change. Things weren't the same after. It was like all of Hawkins was reeling from the loss, despite not having known the truth. You wished that you'd been oblivious. Maybe then everything wouldn't hurt this much. 

You didn't see Eddie around school until lunch. You were almost sure he was avoiding you. You finally saw him lingering in the hallway by his locker, putting some books in, and you immediately made a beeline for him. 

"Eddie!" you called, startling him as he looked up. 

You walked over before he could say anything, "I've been looking all over for you! I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to Patty's. I wanted to explain everything over the summer, but my parents grounded me, which was incredibly annoying since I didn't even do anything. But I think they were just super paranoid and didn't know what else to do and I didn't have your number so I couldn't call you and-"

Your rambling was cut off by Eddie as he held up his hands and dismissively waved, "It's cool, it's fine. Honestly, I don't know why I thought you would show up. If it was some joke or whatever, like, it's...whatever."

"What? No! That wasn't some joke. I really wanted to go on that date, but you know what happened at Starcourt, right?" you anxiously spoke.

"The fire? I don't see what that has to do with anything. Doesn't your shift end at 5?" Eddie asked skeptically. 

"Yes, yes it does! But I usually hang out at Scoops Ahoy because Steve's my ride home. I was doing that and then the whole fire thing happened, and I just got caught up in all of that, and then, y'know the house arrest? My parents thought if I stepped outside, I'd die or something," you quickly explained, "I promise I didn't stand you up!"

Eddie looked at you for a while until a small smile crept up on his face, "Relax, I believe you."

You immediately let out a sigh of relief, "I promise I'm not an asshole." 

There were a few moments of silence that stretched between you two until Eddie finally spoke, "I'm sorry about what happened. That must've been horrifying."

You don't know the half of it. 

You let out a nervous chuckle, "Erm, yeah, it was. But I've had some time to recover."

"How about we re-do that date?" Eddie asked, "Except this time I'm gonna pick you up, can't imagine the types of trouble you get into when I'm not around."

"Sounds good, Eds." you smiled, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. As you broke away, you could see a small blush settling on his face.

"God, Y/N, buy me dinner first."

[r0tt0]

hiii !! can u write head canons for hoodie/Brian?? if u want of course!! since I read the list I don't rlly remember if he was in it..

Hii anon!! Thank you for requesting something and of course I can!!! :D

Cw: Angst, hurt/comfort?, Mentions of depression, paranoia, anxiety, insomnia, OCD, PTSD, mentions of his weapons (Gun and a pipe)

Brian Thomas/Hoodie General Headcannons

Has a love hate relationship with the summertime. He likes it because of the warm weather but absolutely hates it too because of missions. Literally gets sweaty so fast due to his hoodie and ski mask combo. Immediately takes a shower when they get back to the base (whether it be the mansion or the cabin).

Has normal hygiene

His scent is like ocean/aquatic fresh, musky, spicy, and woody. (He’s worn “Nautica - Voyage” since his college days. He still wears it but has a backup so he won’t use up the whole bottle, the back up is “Ocean” by bath and body works. He stole it from a house while on a mission)

Speaking of backups, he has a backup hoodie on the very rare occasions his is dirty. It’s just a plain black pull over.

A bit insecure about himself but doesn’t realize it until he overthinks. On that note, he doesn’t like his tooth gap all too much. He’s gotten plenty of compliments on it but it just doesn’t stick with him personally. He just ignores it, he’ll say a quick “thanks”, think about it for a bit and then shrug the feeling off.

^^ Doesn’t give himself much time to self loathe or at least tries not to, it’s hard due to his depression.

NEEDS to have his pipe or his gun on or near him at all times. Paranoid and anxious.

Him and Tim always had a “bromance”.

“You don’t kiss your homies goodnight?”- Brian

He has so much walls built around him. He still finds it hard to trust Tim or anyone for that matter.

They’ve had an argument about it before and Brian flipped out on him and kinda let everything he’s been holding in since the “Marble Hornets” days. He still blames him for everything. The feeling of betrayal and everything else just hit him right in the chest all over again.

It ended so terribly and on missions they could not work as a team, caused them to do separate missions due to the lack of teamwork. Toby felt like a “child of divorce” -in his own words.

They didn’t talk to each other for almost 2 months. Neither of them apologized. They “let it go” and never spoke about it again, “moved” on from it like it was never said. They kinda just stood outside of the mansion in silence.

Tim had went outside to smoke a cigarette and he saw Brian sitting in a chair on the patio in silence. He just walked over near him to light up his cigarette and smoke, he ended up breaking the silence after 3 minutes of smoking and standing in silence. They went back to talking and joking like normal.

Brian still gets triggered by it all. “He is a liar” has been on repeat in his head and nightmares for years.

Nevertheless he cares so much about Tim.

Has insomnia, OCD, depression and PTSD. (And slender sickness)

Upon hearing him being called “The Hooded Man” he truly thought it was so badass.

“Has a nice ring to it”

The name stuck with him until Toby called him “Hoodie” after he also gave Tim the nickname “Masky” which in return made everyone follow suit with their new “Aliases/Nicknames”.

He still thinks The Hooded Man still sounds cooler but eh

Hoodie is a disguise, not an alter ego. Hoodie is Brian. He is 100% conscious unlike Masky/Tim who has blackouts and doesn’t remember his time as Masky. Brian however does remember. Obviously he’s not doing all of this willingly, but because he’s affected by the operator.

This is random but I think his favorite food would be burgers. Also a Dr Pepper lover and defender.

Toby calls him a passenger princess because on missions Brian always calls shot gun. (LMAO) (The seating chart is basically Tim being the driver, Brian in the passenger and Kate and Toby in the back seat)

I’d say around the mansion he’s cool with a few others besides Tim, Toby and Kate. He’d be cool with Jane, Liu, Nina and Eyeless Jack in my opinion.

The quiet one out of the Proxies.

Gets migraines sometimes now and the slender sickness makes him feel worse during it.

His phone’s wallpaper and Lock Screen are just pictures he takes while out in the forest (they’re really nice pictures too)

Doesn’t enjoy spicy food

Doesn’t shave his facial hair because it “takes too long” or it’s “too much effort”. In reality he just likes his facial hair and how it looks on him.

He’s very smart and calculated on missions, but he’s also just smart in general.

Pan romantic

Writes in black ink or pencil only, even black spray paint. Him and Toby are the ones who draw the slenderman pages and proxy symbols. Tim and kate hang up the pages.

Well that’s all I have for now! lol these are just my personal hc’s so I hope I cooked a bit ;-;

Check out my pinned post on my page if you wanna request me something to write!

Side note I forgot to add in i can write “Character x Reader” on the pinned post so I just edited right now!

Bye for now!! :))

[exoticabl4]

Where to start ?

Such a basic question and yet so many answers. At the beginning of your journey, you'll find yourself with a whole lot of motivation, goals and dreams, so you may feel kinda lost as to where you're supposed to start.

1. Know what you want.

It may sound kind of cliche, and stupid, but really, what do you want ? Yes you wanna be successful, but doesn't everyone want the same thing ? Be precise and give the details. What does success mean to you ? How does the highest version of you look like ? What's her self-concept like ? How does she dress ? Is she more classy or street wear ? Mysterious or a ray of sunshine ? Avoid following the trends. For example, lately the "dark feminine aesthetic" has been taking over tiktok and pinterest, and no matter how cool it might seem, it might not be your cup of tea at the end of the day. Do not to strive to become someone you won't enjoy being. Don't try to be liked by everyone or try to be the heart of the parties when you genuinely enjoy being alone more and have very few friends and acquaintances. And don't try to be "mysterious and dark" when you're actually someone who laughs a lot and who's socially attractive. You can also make pinterest boards with specific facial features you want, with the body type you want, the vibe you want in general. Or, you can keep a journal and divide your life into different aspects (physical attractiveness, intelligence, mindset...), and go into details in each aspect.

2. Create a base routine.

What's a base routine ? That's basically a simple, yet achievable and productive routine you're going to follow, and prioritize over any habit you want to add to your life. So for example, I don't have much time in the morning, so my base routine mainly focuses on after school (your base routine could be about all day, you do you), and it looks like this :

45 min of maths

1 hour of other school work

15 minutes on Duolingo

Learning one new page of spanish vocabulary

Listening to my beauty subliminal playlist 2x

Listening to my specific feature subliminal playlist 3x

Brush my teeths

Affirm and meditate

Go to sleep

As you can see, my base routine is literally SO simple. Every two months, i may add more stuff to my base routine. The goal is to prioritize this routine over any other new habit you wanna add. For example, let's say i wanna start working out every day for 1 hour, and the first day i started, i found myself with no time to work out, which is normal, since I'm still discovering about what works and what doesn't for me, but I'm not going to ruin my base routine or not do one of the habits in it, just for the sake of a newly formed one.

3. Create an alter-ego.

Really basic, but you're going to create a sort of character in your mind, give it a name (mine's name is Abla 😉). This alter-ego is everything you wanna be, so everything you wrote about in step 1, and you're going to start acting like her. Everytime you're feeling lazy, or confused, ask yourself "What would she do ?" (she being your alter-ego). Slowly, you're going to morph into her, and don't hesitate to go for it and exaggerate.

4. Find out about what you're supposed to do.

Divide your life into aspects. I personally, have divided mine into 6 aspects :

Physical attractiveness (face, body, hair, voice, scent, style)

Intellectual development (knowledge (psychology, body language, science...), language learning, chess)

Mindset (confidence, self-love, self-concept, self-worth, discipline)

Skills (cooking, endurance, baking....)

Spiritual life (religion, meditation, mindfulness, healing)

Personal achievements (writing a book, best at my promotion, become president of a club)

That's how i divided my life, now take the time to divide yours, and identify what habits you're supposed to follow in order to improve in each aspect. For example, to improve your appearance, you may have to start a skincare routine, so that's one of the habits.

5. Declutter your space.

Your phone, your room, your desk, your locker, your wardrobe everything. Change your phone theme, block people, delete unnecessary pics and screenshots, donate clothe you don't need, clean your locker. Have a rebirth in a clean and organized space.

So that's it for this post, hope it was helpful, bye my loves.

[jeannereames]

Do you think alexander considered hephaistion his alter-ego?

"He, too, is Alexander"

Did Alexander think of Hephaistion as his alter-ego? Quite possibly—but not by that term. For one thing, “alter-ego” is Latin, and we find it first used in writing by Cicero, although it may have been (quite possibly was) in common parlance prior.

The concept did appear to exist in Greek, but the tendency to apply it to Alexander and Hephaistion owes chiefly to two attestations. The first is the recorded meeting between Alexander, Hephaistion, and Sisygambus, wherein he supposedly said, of Hephaistion, "He, too, is Alexander." The other concerns a quip attributed to Aristotle, mentioned in Diogenes Laertus that friendship is one soul in two bodies—but this not found Aristotle's surviving works, despite a longish passage on friendship in his Nikomachian Ethics.

Without being unduly cynical, we must always take exact phrasing with a grain of salt. I think there's very little we can be certain Alexander said. Same problem with Aristotle, unless you're reading his actual writings, and even some of those are dubious, such as the infamous Ath Pol, or Constitution of the Athenians. We typically distinguish these as “pseudo-Aristotle.” (So if you see “pseudo-”some-name, that means the work is attributed to that person but almost certainly not actually written by him/her.)

So, as part of my usual ‘Let me ‘splain you why you can’t trust that story/saying…,’ let’s play some dating games here.

First, Cicero is our initial attested use of “alter ego,” in a letter to his friend Atticus, that dates the phrase to somewhere between 68-44, or middle of the first century BCE. Maybe we can push it back a little earlier to the early first century, but I’d be uncomfortable pushing it further without solid evidence. Popular terms change. Anybody call a fashionable (male) person, “That cool cat…” these days—except as a bit of a joke? I didn’t think so. 😉 But “cool” itself is otherwise still in common use. So we have to be careful about when terms are popular.

Now, the story of Alexander before Sysigamgus is best known from Curtius (3.12.16-17), but Diodoros also relates it (17.37.5-6), and so does Arrian (2.12.3-8)—although with a caveat. He says it doesn’t appear in his trusted sources (Aristoboulos or Ptolemy) but he tells it anyway, apparently because he approves of the actions in it.

We don’t know where it comes from. Maybe Kleitarchos? Possibly Kallisthenes? It does not appear in either Plutarch’s bio of Alexander or his Moralia, although normally he loved these sorts of anecdotes. There’s a good reason, however, that Plutarch doesn’t tell it (see below). Justin is just too short. (It also appears in abbreviated form in a couple of later Roman sources, Valerius Maximus and Dio Chrysostom. So it was clearly popular in the rhetorician crowd.)

So, what are the words attributed to Alexander? Diodoros’ Greek is kai gar kai outos Alexandros estin: “and for also this [man] Alexander is” (6). Arrian renders it kai gar ekeinon einai Alexandron: “and for that man is Alexander” (7). Curtius puts it, albeit in Latin, nam et hic Alexander est: “for he also Alexander is” (17). Yes, I rendered those into English pretty exactly, even if it sounds a bit funny. First, it helps show how every translation is an interpretation, but also allows us to watch the parsing itself.

None of them is exactly the same, even if the meaning is the same. That’s a good reminder we don’t have his exact phrasing!

Assuming the event even happened.

Why should we doubt it? Aside from Arrian’s skepticism?

This story feels a LOT like a classic lesson in proper clemency. I’ve talked about the importance of clemency before. The bulk of this tale is meant to show a chivalrous Alexander early in his career, before he fell victim to divine aspirations and the lure of that nasty Oriental Luxury <tm>. See what a good guy he was?! Plutarch, in his take, insists not only did Alexander not rape the royal women, he wouldn’t even look at the women. That’s probably why he doesn’t tell this story, because going to their tent absolutely IS looking at them, donchaknow. It’s even funnier because it’s Plutarch who tells us Statiera died in childbirth well, well after that baby could have been Darius’s. (Consistency? What consistency? Pfff.)

My point here is that the story may very well have been fabricated to make a MORAL point of how to be an honorable victor—whether in the era of the Successors (which grew increasingly bloody and vicious), or in the later Roman period. It would also provide a perfect example for Curtius to contrast with Alexander’s later Asian debauchery.

You may be wondering, But why would they make up an entire story like that? Wouldn’t people know?

Um, to prove my point I give you…Twitter, QAnon, and whatever quote is being attributed (wrongly) to Samuel L. Jackson this week. The more often people hear something, even a lie, the more likely they are to believe it’s true. Arrian’s other stories of after-Issos events has Leonnatos going to talk to the women, not Alexander (and Hephaistion). Of course, it’s entirely possible Leonnatos went the first evening, while Alexander and Hephaistion went the next morning. It even makes a certain amount of sense that he’d visit the royal women. So, the bare-bones of the encounter may be true, but mistaken identities and all those speeches were likely put in people’s mouths later.

Incidentally, there’s a pun in the line, as alex-andros translates to “protector of men.” So Hephaistion is also a protector of men. Romans and Greeks ate up that sort of word-play.

As for the Aristotle titbit…Diogenes Laertus reports a list of “sayings” (aphorisms) attributed to various philosophers. For Aristotle, one is: “To the query, ‘What is a friend?’ his reply was, ‘A single soul dwelling in two bodies’” (5.20). I’ve seen people claim he was referencing Alexander and Hephaistion. There’s absolutely no reason to assume that except romanticism and an Alexander-centric view. In our surviving writings by Aristotle, he barely mentions Alexander.* Shock, I know. 😂 But Alexander wasn’t at the forefront of his mind.

Additionally, as I said above, we have a longish bit on friendship in the Nikomachian Ethics, where that definition doesn’t appear, although nothing he says about true friendship in it contradicts the quote, either. But “Sayings of…” were a popular form of literature in antiquity, and sometimes a clever quip got attributed to more than one person! Maybe Aristotle did say that, but it’s not in actual writings about friendship by Aristotle. Aristotle’s writings on friendship are rather more complex; he lists three types of friendship in Book VIII.

Anyway, this little in-depth study is meant to help folks see how complicated it can be, to get back to what ALEXANDER himself said, thought, or even did.

Yet one thing ALL the sources agree upon: Hephaistion was Alexander’s favorite, not just (or even primarily) as a commander, but as a person. I’ve never read any claim to the contrary, and I have (quite literally) read everything in the ancient sources that concerns Hephaistion (and most everything that concerns Alexander too).

So, while it’s impossible to say that Alexander considered Hephaistion an “alter-ego,” or ever called him “Alexander too,” you can rest assured that every ancient source agrees that Hephaistion was dearer to Alexander than anybody else, maybe even including his own mother.

—————-

* 391a2: his “On the Universe” treatise opens with a reference to “Alexander,” who I think it’s safe to assume is the king. And 1420a5, is “Rhetoric to Alexander”--except that treatise is widely understood (even in the medieval world) to be bogus: e.g., a "pseudo-Aristotle" text. Plus Alexander is mentioned in a couple fragments.

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR EPISODE 7🚨

Dimension20 "Fantasy High Junior Year"

Episode 7 "Stress Tested"

Timestamp: 1:50:43

Video Length: 3min. & 50sec.

Fig incepts Ruben's dreams with Wanda Childa 💀

Brennan: "Let's do any Mystery rolls that we have here at the very end."

Emily: "I have a mystery thing I wanna do."

Brennan: "Cool."

Emily: "I basically want to- if we can't do it on campus, I don't have to do it on campus. I can do it around the town. I basically want to disguise myself as various eligible high schoolers and probe about Ruben's dating past."

Brennan: "Oh-hooo! Go ahead and gimme a Mystery roll. This is your third roll, so the DC's 15, but successes past a certain point will get you even more. You can give me Perception, Investigation, or Insight."

Emily: "All right, I think the goal is that I was gonna try and use my Actor feat, but okay, I'll do that."

Brennan: "I'll let you use the Actor feat to get advantage, but not to use your Performance skill. Cool?"

Emily: "Okay." *rolls dice* *scoffs*

Brennan: "You could take a stress." (Why is he so evil?! 😭✋)

Emily: "I'll take a stress. I'm gonna take a stress."

Lou: "You can take a stress."

Emily: "I want this."

Ally: "Ah, a stress pusher."

Lou: "You could take a stress."

Emily: *rolls dice* "That's 19."

Brennan: "That definitely passes. You ask about Ruben's-"

Emily: "And like, I wanna go through all of his lyrics and basically get a profile of what he might be attracted to."

Brennan: "You talk to a student. There's a Triton student at Aguefort whose name is Lashra. And you see she says like,"

Lashra: "Oh, Ruben's dated a lot of people. Like, he's in everyone's DMs. He's, like, constantly talking. I haven't heard anything that's, like, that gross beyond, like, what you would expect for someone who, like, got famous quickly."

Fig: "Yeah, no, I meant more like, does he have a type?"

Lashra: "I would say anyone who thinks he's cool, straight up. I haven't seen like a strong type. Oh! He talked a lot about this girl at the beginning of the year, Wanda."

Fig: "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I heard she's super hot and mysterious."

Ally: "Wanda Childa?!"

Lashra: "Yeah. Oh! He asked me if I knew if Wanda was gonna be at Frosty Fair."

Fig: "Okay. That's crazy. I'm so jealous of Wanda."

Lashra: "Yeah, he was like, 'I hope she's there.' 'Cause he's- I dunno if you heard, he's headlining."

Fig: "Is he?"

Lashra: "Yeah, he's headlining at Frosty Fair."

Fig: "Interesting."

Lashra: "Mm-hmm."

Fig: "Cool"

Emily: "So I wanna use that information to...I took the Dream spell and I wanna, just every night, give him dreams of Wanda."

(Ally laughing 😂😂)

Emily: "Just dreams of Wanda saying how good he is. Dreams of like-"

Ally: "You're invading a teenage boy's dreams. Inserting your alter-ego."

Emily: "My alter-ego."

Brennan: "My alter-ego."

Murph: "Alter-emo." 😂😂

Ally: "Alter-emo!"

Emily: "I think it's like- who did 'Tree of Life?' Like, Terrence Malick, kind of flashbacky. Her in fields."

Brennan: "Yeah."

Emily: "Her showing him her poetry tattoos, her putting hair behind her ear. It's just, like, everything is montages of that."

Brennan: "So you're incepting Ruben with Wanda Childa."

Emily: "Like a buildup of this crush on Wanda Childa."

Brennan: "Incredible. You successfully do that."

Siobhan: "Why is she always under a white sheet?"

Emily: "It's always like, yeah. It's always over her shoulder, like that Instagram travel."

(Siobhan and Ally laughing)

Lou: "Your mouth is talking, but it's just the sound of waves crashing."

Zac: "She's on the end of a pier?"

Emily: "Yeah. It moves in and out."

Siobhan: "Are there piers? Aren't we in a landlocked city?"

Emily: "Just like, her in the passenger seat doing this in the window."

Ally: "omg."

Brennan: "Incredible. Like a week after that, a single hits the thing of 'Not All Who Wanda Are Lost.'"

(Emily, Zac and Siobhan laughing)

Ally: "omg." 😂😂

Brennan: "Incredible."

[moistvonlipwig]

https://www.tumblr.com/moistvonlipwig/765364717503070208 gen question /and maybe stupid/ but why dont you call him angelus

short answer: because his name is angel.

long answer: the name "angelus," while it occurs sporadically in btvs s1-3, is actually not used nearly as often to describe angel's soulless self as "angel" is. "angelus" is used less like a separate name for angel's evil alter ego in early btvs and more like a more archaic/formal version of his name, one that even without a soul he eschews in favor of the more modern "angel." throughout the arc where angel loses his soul, both his vampire besties/worsties & the scooby gang continue to refer to him as angel for the most part, not as angelus. the use of the angel/angelus naming convention to draw a line between angel's souled and soulless selves is something that happens more on ats, most egregiously in ats s4, which in one episode (4.15 "orpheus," imo the show's worst) even implies that they are literally distinct personalities.

however i object to it because a.) it reinforces this idea that angel and angelus are somehow different people; we don't use different names for human harmony and vampire harmony, or souled spike and soulless spike, so why do it for angel? it's not as though he himself ever blames his separate personality "angelus" for his crimes; he consistently claims responsibility for them himself. and b.) it makes it harder to talk about him as a character who has a strong continuity of self throughout his iterations, even though i would argue (and have argued in many posts) that he does. analyzing angel's human life as liam, his soulless life (whether he goes by angel or angelus), and his ensouled vampire life are all crucial to drawing & understanding the full picture of angel. i will occasionally refer to him as angelus for convenience's sake, but in my angel-focused analysis posts, i deliberately call him angel instead of angelus, because i want people to understand that i am still analyzing angel, not his alter ego countess boochie flagrante who is a separate personality with no bearing on the personality of ensouled angel.

also tbh it sounds lame. "angel" is way cooler, creepier, and more poetic, as well as a more direct reference to kathy letting him in his family's house because she thought he was an angel. why make it latin for no reason? well, probably because they thought it sounded cool. but it doesn't. it's just goofy.

[crossover-enthusiast]

Long story short I had a dream last night that Skid and Pump where in, and at one point due to reasons they took on sort of alter egos called “Dread and Terror” and I think that’s sick as hell and I need to tell someone about it

Oooooo

Skid and Pump villain personas real

Seriously tho these names sound cool

[monochromaticblue]

Today I bring you, shuake spiderverse au

Tomorrow? Who knows.

Adding a break bc I’m going to RAMBLE

Ren is the one who gets bit by the spider obv

Have yet to decide on a name for him, Joker doesn’t feel spidery enough and Phantom Spider seems too on the nose but.

Goro is a detective working on hunting down said spider person, who keeps flirting with him.

Ren was a former member of spider society before quitting bc Miguel sucks. But he did make some friends in the form of his pre-existing friends from other universes who are spider people too.

That sounded rlly confusing hang on.

The PTs in Rens universe all help him out behind the scenes but then there’s also universes where each of them is the spider in that universe, so Ren has two sets of friends who are the same people. One of the Futabas made an app that lets them travel between dimensions without alerting spider society.

I have ideas to make each of the palace people (-Futaba probably) a big villain that Ren has to face all while dodging the really pretty detective who wants to arrest him.

Until Ren isn’t the only spider in his own dimension. Enter Akechi once again, now working alongside Ren as his own maybe spider themed alter ego that I also haven’t named…

except he wasn’t bit by a radioactive spider, his suit is entirely tech made to mimic Rens abilities (Goros ass cannot do whatever a spider can) featuring a very fun little ai named Robin Hood who keeps commented on Goro’s elevated heart rate when he looks at Ren. Wonder why.

The two continue to work together alongside the other spider thieves up until Ren and Goro wind up on a mission alone together in a lab, the very same lab Rens spider came from, where everything goes wrong, they get separated for a bit but manage to make it out in once piece.

Goro starts acting different after this though, becoming more snappy and never seeming to be available, always spacing out too. Also, there’s a new terror said to be attacking people at night, leaving its victims without heads. (If you can guess where this is going ily)

Ren, worried about his partner in stopping crime, goes to visit Goros apartment one night only to find it entirely a mess, unfortunately he can’t stay for long since there’s screaming down the street. Upon investigating, Ren comes face to face with the very creature he was hoping he wouldn’t have to see.

A thing a whole foot taller than him with a black and white striped body that almost resembled his suit in a way. Ren honestly would have thought it was a suit if not for the giant fucking mouth full of teeth and the horns. After promptly beating the shit out of Ren, the creature proudly announces itself as Loki.

Haven’t exactly figured out how the reveal happens yet but I do very much enjoy the idea of Goro having his own version of the iconic “we are venom” scene from the movie.

But basically Goro joining up with Loki was always the plan. His reasoning for teaming up with Ren is the same as in the game and he yeaa he’s been working with Shido, the mayor, this entire time :D the lab was entirely planned aswell. What wasn’t planned was how much of an impact Loki would have on Goros mental state, but he’s fine. Totally.

Blah blah shit happens, Shido becomes a major threat and Goro finally teams up with the Inter-Dimensional Spider Team for real to help take him down. Things don’t go according to plan, there’s a lot of fire, Goro can’t use Loki and Ren fails to save him! Tada! Canon event!!! *cue Miguel’s theme or whatever*

I want to include third semester because I think it would be cool but I just. Can’t think of how to make it work. But it would result in Goro coming back and finally learning how to get along with Loki.

This has been haunting my mind for weeks every since my friend sent me a design of spider Akiren.

Alsooo since there’s an alternate universe where each of the thieves got spider powers

This also means there’s a universe where it’s Goro.

Why have I strictly been using Ren this entire time? Because Akira is the one in Spider Goro’s world, with his symbiot Arsene

He’s uh. A little fucked up.

Thank you for listening to the deranged ramblings of a mad man, see you next millennium

[ask-emo-raiden]

Do u prefer Raiden over the name Jack or can we call u Jack >:D

i don't care too much either way i guess (o.o)

Raiden is like my cool mysterious online alter-ego nickname, but jack is just my regular name

no one actually calls me Raiden haha it just sounds badass, like some kind of comic book superhero... which would be way more fun than my actual crappy life (-_-)

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Nice answers! Can’t wait for more :D

1: I know in comics it’s just easy to draw but how does Jake (& some of his family) doesn’t get his identity revealed just wearing a domino mask? (Chris at least wears glasses & acts differently most likely) it would be cool if he got a full mask with a voice changer (my updated version of Jake has a black mask with white eye lenses & a flaming Nightwing logo in the middle)

2: what’s the duos bestest prank they ever pulled?

3: what’s their favorite “prank” items? Fake poo, whoppy cushion, arrow through the head “hat” etc

4: let’s say the duo wants to pull a “Batman Beyond,” who would they pass their superhero title to?

5: How would you bring the starburst duo into the main DC universe? Another crisis or just leave as is in your universe?

Happy April Fools Buddy @pin-crusher2000 and I assure you this’ll be no April Fooling around in this answer ;-)

1) He is able to hide his identity via both his subtle posturing which allows him being more laidback and casual and inflections on his voice which have him sound less guttural and deep when he’s not wearing his domino mask. I base this subtly in his presentation based on how both Grant Morrison and artist Frank Quitely demonstrate the differences between Clark Kent and his alter ego within All Star Superman

2) Oh it’s definitely the time they emptied out some bullies’ body sprays in their lockers during swimming lessons, refilling them with ladies’ perfume instead and it wasn’t until it was far too late when said bullies even noticed it

3) The Arrow in the Head Gay is among them for playfully fooling around the Arrows but Joybuzzers and Gag Peanut Brittle cans are their go to options

4) Chris - I say the Mantle of Nightwing might go to probably a future child of Jake and Meredith (semi canonically Jake and his wife had son they named after Dick Grayson) with Chris appropriately teaching the newer Nightwing the tricks and tools of the mantle

Jake - The mantle he made can fall to probably a fan of the original Skybird who looked up to Jake as their hero for that longest time and only steps into the matte fully at a time of emergency but Jake sees pony’s tail in the kid and offers to train them. Basically a combination of sorts of Tim(my) Drake and Terry McGinnis in that regard

5) Well if there was a chance to adapt Chris, Mar’i and Jake in to the Prime Earth continuity, I’d basically do it all akin to the way Jon was eventually incorporated via a run in with an all powerful force and antagonist that screws around with the timelines and memories of Clark, Lois, Dick and Kory but the presence of these heroes allows them to remember them and with their strong respective love for one another (Lois with Clark and Dick with Kory) plus extending the full timeline so that the elder heroes of it are allowed to age (mainly Bruce and Dick if anything), lo and behold the Grayson kids and Christopher Kent can be incorporated into the DCU proper and all the effects of their presence throughout can be felt.

Now of course that’s if they’re allow to be incorporated cause otherwise, I’d still stick them happily in my Earth-4080. For one thing, my version of the DCU at least doesn’t have Cry for Justice and Heroes in Crisis happen at all so that’s a bonus lol

[coro-chan6]

Somehow Supernatural

Summary: What happens when you somehow end up in the Supernatural universe? What happens when you're somehow special in the Supernatural universe? Read on to see the chaos that ensues.

Warnings: poc!character, gn!character, teen!character, heavy cursing, Winchester madness, Dean needs a warning just for himself

Word Count: 2018

Chapter One: What The Fuck and Where The Fuck

Do you ever feel like time is going slow? I usually don’t because I’m a fast-paced type of person, but lately, I’ve felt like time has come to a standstill. It feels like my 10th-grade year ended three months ago when it’s only been three weeks. I feel like I haven’t seen my friends in 2 weeks and not the mere two days that it actually has been.

I don’t know why my world feels like it’s spinning at half the speed it usually does. Maybe it’s because I’m excited? In August, I’ll start my junior year. My first year in high school that I’ll be an upperclassman. Maybe I’m happy at the prospect of almost being done with high school. Or… is time not going by because I’m not having fun? I haven’t been completely bored, but it hasn’t been the best summer I’ve ever experienced. 

Is there something waiting for me in the near future? Did my world slow because I have something to look out for?

I know this sounds really dramatic. Some 16-year-old goof with an overactive imagination. Perhaps that’s it… but something in me can’t let it go. 

Welcome to my thoughts! They never end, even when I’m asleep. They take me down dark and gorey paths and also wildly stupid would-never-happen-in-a-million-years paths as well. All this shit in my mind flying around at lightspeed is probably why I’m such a good writer. Or, at least I think I’m a good writer. And my mom, but do moms really count? 

I come up with things that are unique and cool. Because I’m a unique and cool person. I don’t know who I’m talking to but I feel like I’m talking to someone so instead of letting you suffocate in the hornets nest that is my mind, I’ll introduce myself.

I’m… actually I don’t want you to know my name, but I’ll tell you other things. I’m 16 and I like anime, and colorful stuff, and reading, and writing, and basically anything. I’m flexible like that. I can deal with people until I run out of battery like most introverted people. I have a severe superiority complex that I like to pretend isn’t a thing, but it’s definitely a thing. It doesn’t affect how I interact with people, but since you’re in my head, um, you’ll see all of it. I thought I’d give you a heads-up.

Anyway, what are you doing in my head? Who are you? It may be my superiority complex talking here but… am I some special being that’s about to save the universe or something?

…I’ll take your silence as a no. 

Could you talk to me though? It’d make me feel much less lonely and a lot less crazy. 

…

…

…

Oh my god, what am I doing? There’s no one in my head. There’s no one listening to my thoughts. I am quite literally just a goofy teenager that thinks they’re gonna gain superpowers but, let’s be honest, what I really gained was a mental illness. 

That’s what this is, isn’t it? I have split personalities like Tobias Hankel in Criminal Minds. Am I gonna start killing people because my alter ego demands it of me? Am I gonna go to prison? I know I’ve talked huge crap about how tough I am to my friends, but I would be deluding myself if I thought I could survive prison. I would be eaten alive!

Wake up!

Be so hilariously for real! I am so awake I can see the words spinning around in my head. I’m so awake that I could pinch my arm - when I find it - and it would hurt as much as my self-harm! I am awake!

…

Okay, I can’t find my arm. I know I said I would so I could pinch it, but I look down to where my arm should be and there’s nothing there but black. And I’m not saying that because I’m black because I’m not. All black people are brown, let’s get real. It’s a dark ass void. Like, a space of complete emptiness. 

Maybe I’m not as awake as I thought I was.

Wake up!

Dude, I’m trying! It has never been this hard for me to wake up in my life. Even when I was having those dreams about that tall, gnarly-handed fucker chasing me around I still had an out. I had that key that I would find and it would wake me up. And, yes, that sounds like the most made-up shit in existence, but those are my dreams. They’re a fucking acid trip.

“Wake up!” Hold on just a second��� I’ve heard that voice before. It’s familiar, at least. 

Not my mom, not my dad, not either of my brothers, none of my friends sound like that. It’s kinda looking like I don’t know this eerily familiar voice and I’m making shit up to sound cool, but I’m not! 

I feel someone shaking my shoulders like I’ve pissed them off or something. I would have been upset, but the feeling in my shoulders means I have to have arms! Right?

“Wake up! I did not hit you that hard!” They continued to shake me like I was a fucking snow globe, “You better not be messing with me, dude!”

The dark void and my thoughts that I could see as words in front of me were starting to fade away. After they did, I was kinda hoping that I could’ve stayed in the darkness forever. I mean, if this was a dream - and it definitely was - this was one of the most realistic ones I’ve had. So realistic that it was practically rude.

The image that replaced the void was a face. A face that I never thought I’d see except for on my calendar and TV. If I wasn’t going batshit crazy, I was seeing the Dean Winchester leaning over me as I was laid out flat on… hardass concrete?

“I swear I taught you how to avoid that move weeks ago. Where’s your head?” My head, Mr Dean Winchester sir is still trying to grasp the fact that you are a living, breathing, hunk of a man that is occupying the same space as me.

My mouth opened and closed like a brainless goldfish until I finally managed to word, “What the fuck?”

Dean looked taken aback. It was the type of face you’d give someone when they do something unexpected and I curse all the fucking time. This shouldn’t be surprising to him. Plus, he shouldn’t even know me in the first place!

“Where the fuck and what the fuck?” I sounded like a psychopath. Wording wasn’t going very well for me right now.

“Okay, let’s get you off the floor, and then we can talk about any brain damage you may or may not have gotten,” The next thing I knew, Dean’s firm arms were wrapped around my torso and my world expanded from just his face to… a storage closet room thing? 

There were those old-looking boxes that looked like fake wood but were really plastic stacked all over the room on various shelves. Toward the edge of the floor-to-ceiling concrete room was an opening through the shelves that seemed to go into another room. In the center of the room we were in - I know, a lot to keep track of - there was a white-painted demon star thing. Dean sat me in the chair that was presumably moved from the middle of the demon star.

“What the hell is going on with you right now?” Dean was now crouched in front of my chair staring at me with half-worried eyes.

“Dean…” I started.

“Yes?”

“Where the flying fuck am I?” His half-worried expression went to full-blown worry in a split second. 

“Does your head hurt?” He tried to feel the back of my skull but I quickly shifted away from him, “What’s wrong? Why are you acting like you don’t know where you are?”

“Because I don’t know where I am! I’m not stupid enough to think I’m actually in the bunker!” 

Dean looked as confused as I felt, “Kid, you are in the bunker.”

“And you’re Dean Winchester,” I scoffed, “You may look like him, but that’s kinda impossible.”

I know I said it was impossible, but remember that superiority complex I mentioned earlier? It kept making this whole situation more believable the longer I sat here looking at what looked like Dean Winchester and made me think I was here to save the universe or some shit. 

…look, man, I can’t help it!

“I’m getting Cas,” Dean huffed and turned to see the angel himself standing behind him. He let out an inhuman squawk of surprise that I wasn’t gonna let him forget before he reprimanded Castiel for probably the umteenth time for sneaking up on him.

“Dean,” Castiel said in his monotone voice, interrupting the hunter from his lecture, “Their energy is off.”

Dean quickly turned back to look at me before responding to Castiel, “What do you mean off?”

“It shifted. Like they’re like a whole different person.”

“May I interject?” I said… interjecting, “I don’t know who the fuck you knew before, but I am definitely not them. I’ve never met either of you in my entire life.”

“And they’re not a demon, Dean,” Castiel spoke up when he noticed Dean reaching for something - probably a knife - in his pocket. I owed Castiel one. I was not trying to get stabbed today.

“If they’re not a demon,” Dean stopped reaching for his weapon but was still tense, “Then what are they?”

Castiel and Dean both turned to me thinking I knew what the fuck was going on. I’m just as confused as you two!

“Well, my name is Jenny.”

“Don’t lie or I’ll be forced to look through your mind,” Castiel threatened.

“Maybe you should do that anyway,” Dean stated.

“No!” My voice cracked as I tried to keep my cool, “My real name is Casey. I’m a quirky 16-year-old from the barren land of the Quakers and I don’t mean any harm. I mean, look at me. Do you really believe I could do any harm?”

“They do have a point,” Dean said, “They’ve always been kinda skinny and noodly.”

His saying that made me look down at my body. I was wearing a plain red T-shirt with dark blue jeans and cringe-looking sneakers. I did look pretty skinny. My body - which was most definitely not this one - was more muscular than skinny. I also didn’t have hair scratching at my neck because I cut it when I was 13, but with this person's body, my hair was down to my shoulders. At least I was still my beautiful, golden brown skin tone.

“So… can I get up now or…?” I don’t know if it was a conscious thing or not, but Dean and Castiel had blocked my escape from my chair with their bodies. If I wanted to get up, I would have to push them, and I didn’t want to break the very thin layer of trust we had built up with my cooperation.

They seemed to have a whole conversation in their mind - maybe they did, I don’t know the extent of angel shit - before they eventually gave me space to stand.

I stood. Honestly, I thought I was going to fall over for some reason, but I didn’t. My new, skinny body did what it was told and stayed upright.

“Okay,” I smiled, “Where’s Sam?”

“How the hell do you know Sam? And how did you know my name?” Dean was still a bit suspicious of me. Telling him that he was part of a TV show I watched during COVID would probably make me sound crazy so I just went with:

“It’s a long story.”

Dean squinted his eyes at me as if he could actually see if I was telling the truth or not then, let out a huff, “Fine, come on. We’re going to the meeting room for a meeting.”

Oh boy.

AN: First chapter of my new series. Really excited to see how it goes! I have a bunch of chapters already written. I might post one every week. Hope you enjoyed!

[jakesuit0]

The Creeps Review

The main appeal in “The Creeps” are the interactions between Finn, Jake, Princess Bubblegum, BMO, Lumpy Space Princess, and Cinnamon Bun. It’s not a combination of characters we see much of. Like, apparently Cinnamon Bun has a crush on LSP. How cool is that? Him hitting on her is really funny and something I wish the series kept as a running joke. They also all have funny names for their alter egos, two of which refer to either farting or the lack thereof. I love everyone’s unique costumes, especially Princess Bubblegum’s. PB has a really nice swan shaped mask, a reference to her pet swan. LSP actually looks pretty for once in her red dress. Cinnamon Bun, the dumbest person in Ooo, wearing a top hat and monocle like he’s a scholar is hilarious. BMO looks cute, and Finn and Jake look rad, especially Finn’s wolf mask. The costumes, in addition to the haunted house plot, make this the closest Adventure Time has come to a strictly Halloween episode. Halloween doesn’t exist in Ooo, but they could’ve totally called it one like how “Holly Jolly Secrets” does for Christmas. The episode could have gone further with its cast selection. I like all the picks, but not including Marceline is a big missed opportunity. She loves pranks and her character fits the spooky atmosphere. Not sure why she’s never able to play supporting roles in the first half of the series unlike the rest of the cast. Tree Trunks would have also been a good addition. 

The episode reuses the murder mystery plot from “Mystery Train”. They lampshade this, with Jake accusing Finn or pulling a prank like he did in that episode. It’s nice having the characters casually mention events from previous episodes, which is still rare for the series. I think the characters and atmosphere differentiate it from “Mystery Train” enough, and even elevates it to a better episode. This also foreshadows Jake’s knowledge of Finn’s initial attempt at a prank. I like how it sets up a “who’s pranking who” mystery. Jake and BMO go off on their own. They have a conversation that some people don’t think makes sense knowing the episode’s twist. I give the writers more credit than that. Jake asks BMO if Finn is pranking him, because for all he knows, Finn could have hijacked Jake’s hijacked prank. And Jake screaming at BMO’s capture is just for dramatic effect for Finn’s ears. I like BMO’s speech in this scene, which is a bit iconic. It’s always heartwarming when BMO tries to cheer up Finn and Jake, and he’ll use his philosophy here to console Jake again much later on. 

We get a couple more great gags. Finn throwing PB off the railing is so wacky. Hearing the sound of a flushing toilet after LSP’s screams of agony is hysterical. I love her outburst where we find out why she and Brad broke up prior to “Trouble in Lumpy Space”. A “real ghost” appears, making Finn admit he was pulling a prank…up to this point. The melted Cinnamon Bun and BMO’s remains in the closet look very uneasy. Jake’s hijacked prank is very well done. He must have swapped the painting for the one with LSP in the darkness. Jake gets snagged by the ghost (more death foreshadowing), leaving only Finn left. He encounters a ghost lady, who has a fantastic and creepy design. He escapes, and sees the ocean waves crashing against the mansion outside. Seeing the ocean, his biggest fear, represents how traumatizing this whole experience is for Finn.

Jake, of course, was behind this. Lady Rainicorn was dressed as the ghost, and she talks about having sex with Jake in Korean. Sometimes I forget that she’s as much of a freak as Tree Trunks. I love LSP claiming she’s ready for Brad, even though that doesn’t come to fruition. I guess he’s moved on with Melissa. This is probably LSP’s funniest appearance in the series. Finn finds out that Jake wasn’t behind the ghost lady, leaving its identity a mystery for now. It’s not something that necessarily needs an explanation, as ghosts do exist in Ooo. I bought into the popular fan theory that she’s the ghost of Finn’s mom, which of course isn’t the case, but it was a cool idea. Finn puts his memory of her in his vault. He can suppress his traumatic memories at will!

Grade: A

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Alternate universe

I took this day to do a little mini-sequel to one of my multiverse travelling fics. This time it's the next gens on adventures. And a new magical girl.

Read on ao3 or under the cut

Isadora and Diana were in the park, eating ice cream.

“Isadora, do you sometimes wonder who you’re gonna marry when you grow up?” Diana asked.

“I… don’t know. Sometimes.”

“Me, too. If I even marry someone.”

“I wish there was a way for us to know. Imagine how cool it would be to see into the future.”

“Yeah, but also… do you wanna be spoiled?” Diana asked. “Then it’s not gonna be a surprise anymore.”

“That’s true!”

They ate up their ice cream and wiped their hands and mouths off with napkins. As they were throwing the napkins in the trash can, something rather unexpected happened.

There was a candy wrapper of some sort that fell onto the ground. 

“Fausta…” Isadora read. 

“What?” Diana asked.

“It says ‘Fausta’ on that candy wrapper. I don’t know why, but that name sounds familiar…”

Right then, the candy wrapper started flying, rather violently around. In a flash, it was gone, and instead was a girl with blonde, almost white hair with pink and blue streaks in it. 

“What the fuck?” Diana let out. She looked around to see if anyone else saw the same thing she saw. Isadora nodded in confirmation. However, looking around to see if any stranger noticed, they realized they were practically alone in the park. Weird…

“Hello! My, how you two have grown!” The girl had this odd accent, like she was talking Spanish the way an American cowboy would.

“Do we know you?” Isadora asked.

“Well… I don’t really exist as a person in this universe, but I have a connection to your parents!”

“Okay?”

She hugged them, and as she did, the girls realized she was floating in the air and brought them up with her in the hug. “I haven’t seen you since you were babies! I remember looking through the window as your mothers were on maternity leave with you.”

“But you look like you’re our age…” Diana said. “You must have a really good skincare routine.”

“Or you were a child when we were babies, and you’re not that much older,” Isadora suggested.

“Both are wrong!” the girl admitted. “My name is Fausta, and when your mothers were teenagers, they created some alter egos. I was Francesca’s alter ego.”

“Oh my god, you do kinda look like my mom!” Diana said.

“Yes. Well, you see, when an alter ego is created, they enter a universe only inhabited by alter egos, imaginary friends and made up people. We don’t age and we pop into existence being the age we were as we were created. So, your mom was around 18-19 when she created me. Therefore, I am forever around that age!”

“What are you doing here?” Isadora asked.

“I was summoned!”

“How?”

“Most of the time it requires a spell or a potion. But I can also be summoned by chance! And I just so happened to hang around in this universe today, disguising myself as a candy wrapper. And you said my name twice, and that’s the lucky charm!”

“I don’t really understand any of what you’re saying,” Diana admitted, “But sure.”

“What are you gonna do?” Isadora asked. 

“Well, what we do to the people who summoned us, we take them on a trip across the multiverse!”

“You can travel through different universes?”

“Duh! That’s basically all we do. The universe I live in is essentially just a void we float around in, so we enjoy ourselves watching how people live in different universes.”

“Okay… how many universes are there?”

Fausta laughed and grabbed their hands, as she dragged them away. 

They ended up floating in some sort of white sparkly space.

“This is the travel space in-between all the universes. I thought we could look around a bit in a few of them,” Fausta explained.

“When you say universes, do you mean that it’s us, but we live differently?”

“Yes, kind of. And there’s universes in which you were never born, because your parents married other people.”

“Ooh, can we see that?”

Fausta made an unsure expression. “Are you sure you want to see that?”

“Yes!”

“It could be interesting,” Isadora said.

“Well, alright… but if it’s too weird to see your parents with someone else then remember it’s not like that in your universe.”

They ended up in front of a house they hadn’t seen before. 

“Who lives here?” Isadora asked.

“Your mom,” Fausta explained. “But not your dad, because they never married in this universe.”

“Who did she marry, then?”

Right then, Violetta came out, preparing to pack things into the car. Behind her came three children, the oldest seeming to be Isadora and Diana’s age. She resembled Violetta.

“Is that… her daughter in this universe?” Isadora asked. 

“Yes… one of her three kids.”

“Three kids?” Diana asked, “Who did she have kids with?”

Right then, Francesca came out.

“What’s mom doing here?”

Francesca helped Violetta put things into the car. Then she gave Violetta a smile and kissed her on the lips.

Isadora and Diana stared dumbfounded.

“What…” Isadora whispered.

“Our moms…” Diana said, pointing at them.

“Yep!” Fausta shrugged. “In this universe, they married each other instead of your dads! Now they have three kids together!”

“Woah…” Isadora said.

“Hey, that’s our friend Lola!” Diana commented, pointing at a teenage girl walking up to the house. “Does she still exist here?”

“Of course she still exists! She’s not related to you, is she?” Fausta asked.

“Ok, so it’s… only us two that do not exist, basically.”

“Pretty much.”

“But what is Lola doing here?” Isadora asked.

“She’s saying goodbye to her girlfriend, who’s going on vacation!”

The oldest daughter of Violetta and Francesca went over to Lola, and gave her a big hug. 

“Ooh… so Lola’s dating her…” Diana said.

“That’s sweet… wait, but this girl doesn’t exist in our universe!” Isadora said. “Who will Lola end up with in our universe, then?”

Fausta shrugged. “You just have to wait and see!”

“Can you see into the future?” Diana asked.

“No… but there is a universe that is identical to yours, but it takes place 10 years into the future! We might get a glimpse of who you might end up with! If you have found the love of your lifes at age 26, that is!”

They popped away, and ended up in what appeared to be a dressing room. There were two people in there, and even when they were older, Isadora and Diana immediately recognized them. It was Kim and Stella.

Stella was helping Kim with a bowtie they wore. She was dressed in a very formal dress.

“It’s almost like it’s someone’s wedding…” Isadora said. “But who’s?”

Stella giggled in a rather flirty way. “Kim, let me help you!”

“I promise I know how to put on a bowtie!” Kim replied.

“Sure you do…”

Kim smirked. As Stella was focused fixing their bowtie, they leaned in to kiss her quickly.

“Oooh my god!” Diana exclaimed. “I knew it!”

“Yeah, I knew Stella had a big crush on them, but I didn’t know it was mutual!” Isadora said.

“Now I wanna see us,” Diana said.

Fausta turned to the left. “Well, here is one of you coming right now.”

Out from the door came Isadora. She was hearing the most beautiful dress they had ever seen. It was a wedding dress.

“I’m getting married?” Isadora asked.

“You look so pretty,” Diana said. “I’m jealous of whoever you’re marrying.”

“Are you ready?” Stella asked Isadora from this universe.

“As ready as I can be,” Isadora from this universe replied.

“I just wanna say it again,” Kim said, “But we really knew for so long something went on between you two. I can’t believe you’re finally gonna get married!”

“Yeah… I can’t believe it either.”

“Let’s hurry before we’re late to the ceremony!” Stella said.

“We need to see who it is!” Diana said, but Fausta stopped her.

“No… we don’t wanna spoil it, do we?”

“But I’m curious!” 

“Do you know who it is?” Isadora asked Fausta.

Fausta gave her a knowing look. “Well, I think it’s someone you know very well.”

She gestured with her head to her other side, and Isadora lit up. 

She knew exactly who it was. And suddenly her life felt even more complete. 

“What?” Diana asked.

“Oh, our time is up!” Fausta said, and suddenly popped them away.

They came back into the park. 

“Isa, tell me, who are you marrying?” Diana asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Isadora said.

“Yep… and it’s gonna be a surprise for you, too!” Fausta said.

“Wait, what?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? You’re gonna forget about all of the multiverse traveling.”

The girls got disappointed.

“It’s better that way,” Fausta explained, “Otherwise it could lead to horrible side effects. You will get a feeling of just having experienced something, but not knowing what.”

“Ok…”

“Well! Adios!” With that, Fausta disappeared.

The girls stared at her in silence for a moment.

Then Diana looked back on the candy wrapper.

“I think Fausta is some kind of candy. No idea what kind, but I’ve seen the name before.”

“Yeah…” Isadora said. “Hey, Diana… I feel like I forgot something I was supposed to remember.”

“Same! Huh… strange. What were we talking about?”

“Who we’re gonna marry.”

“Right! Hm… what did we say?”

“I don’t remember,” Isadora chuckled. And she genuinely didn’t. But she felt hopeful that the one she was gonna marry was someone standing in front of her…

She actually felt more hopeful than before.