#anyways i feel like i'm getting off topic but yeah

[blackcatxmagic]

"Truthfully you can trust a cat over most people anyway," Copper replied. "Or at least most politicians. Maybe this cat is just what the universe needs to usher in a new era of peace after a period of tyrannical rule." Now Copper was deep in thought about all of this, and he said to Luna, "I didn't expect to be thinking about all of this so much. It's going to weigh on me now." He frowned, but then Copper broke into laughter. Nodding, he responded, "Yes, Viktor should start his campaign now because he's the right candidate for the job. He just needs to get out there and explain his platform to all the citizens of the cosmos."

Luna understood his metaphor it seemed, and he smiled. "I like the sound of that, of love and memories as an echo. They reverberate through time rather than a space, over and over again. Even if the echo grows faint, it keeps existing somewhere." Pausing, Copper admitted, "Alright, the metaphor is getting away from me. Echoes don't last forever, I know. But still, it's a nice way to think about it."

Talk of their home state seemed to be a bit of a difficult topic for Luna, and Copper regretted asking. However, Luna still spoke about it, so he listened attentively. "There's still time you know," Copper told them. "I don't know the full story, so I don't want it to feel like I'm telling you what to do. Only you know what's right. But it's not too late if you want to reconnect. Trust me, you never have as much time as you think." For a moment, Copper trailed off, thinking about Damon, about how he hadn't realized how short their time would be; he wished he'd appreciated it more. This was not something he was going to discuss with a stranger though.

Laughing, Copper nodded at the other's comment. "Yeah, they really did," he said. "They wanted to give us strong names, which apparently meant names from ancient times. Meaningful, sure, but...imagine being in the family where there kids are named Aristotle, Copernicus, and Hypatia. And my dads don't even have strange names too, they're just Matthew and Owen. Maybe they always wished they'd gotten a name like ours or something." Again he laughed, saying, "Poor Jack with a normal name. I don't know how he gets by." Clearly he was just being facetious. "Jack is a good name actually," he told Luna. For a moment, Copper had to think about what Luna had asked him, and he said, "I always blank when this happens. How about you go first?"

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Luna giggled, her eyes lighting up at the image of a cat ruling the cosmos. “I think I would vote for him. I’d always trust a cat. They have great instincts, you know? Maybe he’d do a little tail flick to approve universal snack time, or a whisker twitch for peace treaties.” Admittingly, they had been a little nervous when they first started talking with Copper, but he was proving to be quite kind, and that made Luna feel like they could breathe.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Luna laughed softly, their eyes lighting up at the image of Viktor the cat ruling the cosmos. “I think I would vote for him,” they said. “He seems like the kind of ruler who’d nap through most legislation but still somehow have the perfect instincts when it counts. A whisker twitch for peace treaties. A tail flick to approve universal snack time.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When he said it was comforting–that stars still shone even if they were already gone–Luna nodded, something in their expression going soft and tender. “Yeah. It’s like… proof that love and light don’t just vanish. They echo. Even if you can’t always feel it, it’s still there. Still reaching you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When Copper asked about Texas, they hesitated, chewing on their bottom lip for a beat. “I do and I don’t,” they admitted. “It’s one of those places that gets into your bones. I miss the heat–not the melting kind, but the warmth in the dirt, y’know? The way cicadas sound like static under the stars.” A pause. “But things got complicated after my brother went back home. We kind of lost touch. Not because anything happened, just… time. Life. But I still look up at the sky and hope he’s looking too.”‎‎

‎ ‎ ‎ Their expression perked up a little when Copper mentioned his siblings. “That’s a cool set of names,” they said, with a soft, crooked smile. “Aristotle and Hypatia? Man, your parents really knew what they wanted when they named y’all. I like that y'all have interesting names. I got Lunara and my brother got Jack. That feels so boring in comparison.” They turned suddenly, clapping their hands together as they faced him. "So, clearly, you like astronomy. What else do you like?"

[lyxchen]

Okay so I've heard this said a bunch of times and I'm gonna admit I thought like that too for a while but no, Gi-hun did not win the games because he was lucky. A lot of people think that's how he won because he never killed anybody but that's really not the point. Gi-hun won the games because a) he's smart and is able to look at things from a different angle, b) because he is a good and kind person who also believes in others and c) because of the goodness and care get got back from other people.

In the first game he survived because Ali saved him and that wasn't luck, that was Ali being a good person and helping somebody not get killed. Ali could've not caught him, let him die, he didn't even know Gi-hun at all at that point and he put himself in more danger too by having to hold on to a person while standing completely still but he still saved Gi-hun because Ali is a good person.

In the Dalgona game he quite literally Was Not Lucky. He decided to go with the umbrella which is the worst shape to pick and he probably would have died if he hadn't looked at the game in a different way and decided to change his strategy. Gi-hun is smart. He is also optimistic and so he tried something new and found a different way to beat that game.

In the third game he survived because he was smart and kind enough to listen to Il-nam. The other people in their group dismissed him as just an old man speaking but Gi-hun didn't and that way they had a good strategy to beat the other team. The same goes for him listening to Sang-woo's idea of running three steps and then stopping, which ultimately was what saved them. His group also chose him as their leader (who, as Il-nam said, needs to not seem weak or loose hope because then the whole team is doomed). His team trusted in him and his optimism and they were right to do so.

In the marbles game he won because he was once again kind and decided to team up with Il-nam and also because in the end Il-nam decided to "sacrifice himself" for Gi-hun because he showed him kindness before. Yes Il-nam didn't actually die but he also knew that Gi-hun had cheated and still let him continue on to the next game, probably because Gi-hun had been good and kind and caring towards him before, even though he really didn't have to be. Gi-hun also didn't know this but by teaming up with Il-nam he inadvertently ensured that Il-nam had a lot more fun in the games than he would have had, had everybody just ignored to "old, fragile man". Gi-hun was good to Il-nam throughout all the games and it ended up saving him in the marbles game.

In the fifth game it's only some small moments as Gi-hun isn't really involved in the game because he's the last number but still it wasn't just luck. First of all he was kind enough to give the number 1 to the player that asked him for it. Yes, that number was bad but he didn't know that and had he been selfish enough to say no to that other player he wouldn't have survived. Being the last to play in any game can end up being bad for you, still he decided to give up the number he picked because the other player asked him to. Secondly he also survived that game because Sae-byeok was kind enough to remind him of which glass tile to step on after he had forgotten which one it was. It's only small but she didn't have to tell him and still she did. Sae-byeok btw is also good to him because before that he was good to her and protected her (even though he was angry at her at first) and that way he was able to gain her trust.

Lastly he won the Squid Game because Gi-hun was kind to Sang-woo and because Sang-woo deep down was still a good person. There were probably many reasons as to why Sang-woo decided to kill himself in the end but part of it, I'm sure, was also because Gi-hun was a good friend to him. I mean Gi-hun was even willing to give up all the money and go back home with nothing gained if it meant that Sang-woo didn't have to die and would be able to come home with him. Gi-hun deserved that win and that money and in the end Sang-woo knew that. He also knew that Gi-hun would make sure to take care of Sang-woo's mother and that he wouldn't just take all the money for himself because Sang-woo knew that Gi-hun is a good person. (Gi-hun technically also won the Squid Game because he was good at it which is also him being smart)

So in conclusion and I hope y'all haven't stopped reading yet: Gi-hun didn't win the games because he was lucky. He didn't just sit around doing nothing and won anyways. He won because he was smart but even more importantly he won because of the kindness and goodness that exists in humans and that is especially present in him. He won because he had empathy, because people trusted him, because he got back from them what he gave to them first. He never killed anyone and we can clearly see that he Could Never kill anyone in those games but that's not his weakness. Just because he didn't let himself get corrupted and turned into what the games wanted him to turn into doesn't mean he won because of luck. Him not playing by those subtle, hidden rules that are made to force him to be bad, to not care about others and to give up his kindness actually means he was better than the games. He won because he didn't let them turn him into a monster. They tried really hard and they failed and that's how he won!! But also on top of that he also won because he isn't the only good person in this show. He also won because other people helped him, were kind to him and gave a shit about him. Each and every person that helped Gi-hun didn't have to do that. They all could have not helped him, Ali could have not caught him, Sae-byeok could have not told him which one was the correct glass tile, hell, she could have Lied to him about it and the only difference it would have made for the other players would have been them being one more dead person closer to winning all that money. But that's really not how humans are and act which is why all these people helped Gi-hun, helped each other in small or big ways and in the end his own kindness and the kindness that exists in other people is what lead to Gi-hun winning. That's not luck. That humans being good

[4ddi3addie2005]

Before I went to bed I saw the Youtube notif that TADC was going to Netflix and it INVADED my dreams so vividly I have not had such an episodic sequential serialized cohesive dream in months it was literally its own chapter its own short story

[songsforthedeaf2002]

my bpd & adhd fighting over which one will ruin my life first

EDIT: i have no idea how total strangers are finding this but please stop liking this if we're not mutuals. what's happening why are strangers here. sorry i'm sure you're nice but please leave me alone

[midwesternfields]

BOOK REVIEW 📖

Last year I kept track of the series & films I watched; this year I've decided to keep track of whatever books I read! So this one is for the month of January – I'll share these sometime after the month is over, or if I read more than one book during the month, I will do their reviews as soon as I finish the book :)

[gustaveshomage]

.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

THATS SO REAL I mean i have boobs and i don’t like them but not in a dysphoric way for gender just i don’t like my body in general, but i only found out recently they’re an erogenous zone and I was like 🥲 like wdym this whole time they were actually there to make me feel good hello?? - ⭐️

OMG YES YOU GET IT like for me I also don't really view my chest as something that could be pleasure central lmao it's mainly just a nuisance, especially when shirts and tops and such fit weird because of the way the fabric is being pulled across my chest like hello I just wanna comfortably live 😭 I cant even wear bras anymore because it started to get so uncomfortable with the constant back pain I was having and now I only wear them if I have to go out in public so like not only do I not like the look I also hate the feel of them too

[invoncible]

have you ever thought of writing for one of Marks variants? If so you should definitely do Mohawk Mark his cocky attitude is so ugh …. i love your work by the way!

— thank you nonnie hope you like this ! I LOVE MOHAWK MARK OMG

"you know, i feel like i've seen you before." mohawk mark had you by your wrists, preventing your escape as he pinned you to the ground. he studied your face like you were a toy in his hands.

fuck. your boss had sent you to your death yet again. when you signed with your news station, you didn't realize you'd be signing your life away chasing these heroes and their problems.

you thought this was invincible—everyone did until a few minutes ago. they had similar getups and abilities. it was a logical conclusion, right?

wrong. within minutes of pulling up to the penitentiary, the news van was tossed onto its side, a invincible sized hole cut clean through the back. the variant grabbed you and your cameraman by the clothes and dragged you onto the ground... and here you were.

"oh, yeah!" mark snapped his finger, a wicked grin spreading on his face. "you're that news reporter! i remember you... didn't kill you back home cuz you always got my good side." he leaned in, taking your chin in his fingers and guiding you to look up at him. "s'that what you're doing here? you like the view in this dimension too?"

his eyes flicker dangerously to your cameraman, who was shaking behind the heavy lens on his shoulder. he huffed a small laugh at the sight, like the fear he smelled off your partner really got him going.

"yes!" you quickly exclaim, forcing his attention back to you.

his eyes snapped back to you. blood rushed to your head, pulse thundering in your ears. you try your best to not flinch at the way his rough fingers dug into your skin.

"what can i say," you laughed weakly. "you're the hot topic right now, had to get a piece for... myself?"

he paused, his expression like stone as he peered between you and your cameraman, weighing the options in his head: do i kill them for fun, or let them entertain me for a little bit?

after a long pase, mark rose effortlessly to his feet, dragging you up with him by your wrists. he slung his arm around your shoulders like you were old friends in some twisted version of reality. he twirled you around in the ruins, the destruction stretching out in front of you like some sick display of power.

“you like what i’ve done with the place?” he asked, voice dripping with mock innocence as he took in the scattered bodies, the blood-slicked ground.

"oh..." your eyes trailed over the wreckage, the broken limbs and bodies sprinkled over the ground like confetti, and all the blood was the icing on the top. "impressive."

you weren't lying, exactly. it was an impressive show of power, as sick as it was. unease twisted in your gut.

"i knew i liked you." he chuckled. "hey, let's get rid of this." he grabbed the mic from your hand and crushed it, the circuitry sparking one last time before dying completely.

"i mean, sure, i could kill you. it'd be a waste of a pretty face, so i’m not gonna. we've got history, you and i."

your pulse quickened. your eyes darted to your cameraman, who had already taken off, running toward another van and driving off. you grit your teeth. fucking coward.

you felt the weight of mark’s gaze burning into your back as he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"i'm not the same as your y/n." you reminded him quietly.

"yeah? come home with me 'nd find out."

"no." your eyebrows furrowed.

he smiled, your resistance rolling off his back like it meant nothing. "you're gonna. two y/ns are better than one, and besides you're gonna love my place—it's a palace. i'll get you a nice room and everything. all you'd have to do is stay by my side."

"mm..." you glared at him, trailing off but communicating your answer loud and clear. not that you thought he'd listen to you anyways. his grip on you was almost possessive. this guy was superpowered, for fuck's sake. you were dead for the second he decided he was done playing around with you.

"ohohoho," he chuckled, raising an amused eyebrow. "you're lucky you're cute. but you're coming with me." he shot up into the sky, already set on taking you to wherever he intended to stash you until he had a way back to his dimension.

you shrieked as you were vaulted into the air, anchored only by his arm around your waist.

"shhh," he grinned wildly, his hair fluttering in the wind. "you were the one that wanted a piece for yourself. you gonna refuse me when i'm accommodating you so nicely?"

against your better judgement, you clung to him and hoped that his nice mood lasted a long, long time.

© invoncible

[ebodebo]

TWO HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE...

PAIR⁀➷ dr. jack abbot x fem!reader x dr. michael robinavitch

WC⁀➷ 3.9k+

CONTAINS⁀➷ 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, threesome (i know that's right), dub-con themes because you're drunk, dirty talk, p in v, drunk sex, vaginal fingering, teasing, so much porn, so little plot, age-gap, reader is in her late 20s and jack and robby are... how old they are..., unprotected sex (they would never, but i certainly would), alcohol consumption, multiple orgasms happening simultaneously, slight weird vibes, but we persevere, ooc i fear, but still hot, power imbalance (they're attendings and you’re a resident,) & no use of y/n.

ANON ASKED⁀➷ hi bb! could we pretty please get a robbyxabbotxyou where the boys take you home after the monthly resident bar crawl. they both wanna make sure you get home safe, but all bets are off when they get in your apartment...

AUTHOR'S NOTE⁀➷ i love you anon... thank you for making my dreams of this two man come to life. you’re a real one! i actually need these men carnivorously and also like why have one when you could have two? anyways, enjoy this horny mess!

Jack and Robby take such good care of their best resident...

The small bar, the third one of the night, felt sweltering, with bodies dancing and sweating, creating a foggy atmosphere.

The music was deafening, and the floors were slightly sticky from what you assumed were remnants of spilled beer and forgotten shots.

Your head was pounding, and you could feel the blood rushing through your veins as you sat on the edge of the booth next to Frank, across from Samira and Mel. The cool leather of the seat offered some comfort as your fingers curled around its edge.

It was perfect.

"Safe to say, I'm a god," Frank said confidently, taking a sip of his beer. He winced when you elbowed his side, and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Might want to wipe the spit off your chin from sucking your own balls, Frank," you commented, watching as Samira and Mel burst into laughter.

"Ha, ha. So hilarious," Frank replied sarcastically, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head from side to side with mock laughter. He then looked around the room, scanning it clearly for someone. "Where the hell are Robby and Abbot? I'm outnumbered here," he sighed.

“I didn’t know they were coming,” you say through a fit of laughter that makes Samira giggle.

“They said they were,” Frank shrugs as his lip quips at your apparent drunkenness. “Sober up, will you. They’ll get mad at me for letting their favorite resident get shit-faced,” he gruffs.

You cock a brow, face warm. “Shut up. I am not their favorite,” you protest, unable to believe it.

Frank lets out a chuckle. “You definitely are,” he says, adding a touch of humor.

“Frank, you are full of shit,” you retort, pushing his shoulder in.

He looks across the table. “Samira? Mel? Care to chime in?”

You look at them, eyes hazy, to see an awkward smile grow on Samira’s face while Mel avoids eye contact. “Is it true?”

Samira tries to evade the question before Frank urges her. “Yeah… I’d say so.”

You narrow your eyes in thought, trying to adjust to the bright lights hanging above you and look at Mel. “Mel?”

She avoids your gaze, focusing instead on the ketchup bottle on the table. “Look, there are five grams of sugar in a single serving of this ketchup,” she remarks while reading the label.

“Mel?” you prompt, hoping to steer the conversation back to the original topic.

She sets the bottle down with a slight huff. “Frank’s… right.”  

“It’s not a negative,” Samira assures you, her voice calm and soothing. “Just an observation.”

You don't know how to express that you didn't take it negatively. 

In fact, you wanted it to be true.

Jack and Robby were two of the most experienced and exceptional doctors you had ever encountered. Each of them possessed a unique set of distinguishable qualities and strengths.

It didn't hurt that they were also among the most attractive doctors you had ever met.

You often heard the new interns and nurses gush about them, and the idea that they might favor you over the other residents sent a thrilling chill down your spine, even with the alcohol coursing through your system.

"Robby, Jack! Over here," Frank called out, gesturing his hand out to signal them to come over to you all.

You look up to see them approaching, and you could vomit, and not just from the alcohol.

"Be right back. Restroom," your words are slightly slurred as you stumble up and to the bathroom.

Once you reach the single bathroom, lock the door behind you before stumbling further into the room. You opt to lean against the inside wall, gently sliding down it to sink onto the ground, your skin blistering to the touch.

You don't know what's come over you.

Your thoughts are a jumble, unable to form a coherent train of thought, and you're fixated on Jack and Robby.

The new revelation of being their favorite doing more to your psyche than you’d like to admit.

You hear a faint knock on the bathroom door across the dimly lit room, the sound echoing off the walls. With a sigh and determination, you stand, almost tripping over nothing as you head to the wooden door, carefully unlocking the door before pulling it open to see Robby.

“Robby?” you ask, voice hoarse.

“Came to check on you,” he shrugs, observing your dilated pupils and disheveled hair.

You take a gulp, your vulnerability palpable. “I’m… I’m alright.”

“You look drunk,” he shakes his head, raising his brows knowingly.

“We’re at a bar,” you say. “What the hell else am I supposed to be?”

“Safe, for one,” his eyes flick between yours. “How much did you drink?”

You roll your eyes with an irritated sigh; your frustration is evident. “Not enough, apparently.”

"Are you upset?" he prompts lightly before his eyes go dark. "Did something happen?"

"No," you immediately assure, feeling slightly embarrassed. "It's… nothing," you shake your head fervently. "God, I need another drink," you try to take another step past him before you trip over nothing. His arms reach around you with ease, helping you stand.

"Yeah, no. You’re going home and going to bed," he gruffs, gripping you tighter. 

"I'm off the clock, Robby," you slur, trying to escape his grasp. "I'm not yours to boss around."

"What's going on?" Jack's voice comes from around the corner.

Of course.

When one lingers, you can count on the other being shortly behind.

"I would like you to get home in one piece, so right now, you are," Robby says with frustration as he holds you still. 

You shake your head, feeling your head spin, which makes you think he's definitely right, but you would never give the satisfaction. You manage to shake out of his grasp, attempting to go back around the corner before Jack's hand comes out to gently grab your forearm as you slump against him. 

"Come on, just listen to him, kid," he tilts his head to the side. 

"Oh… Jack," you look up at him. "Do you ever get tired of riding Robby's dick?"

“It’s good exercise,” he mutters, curious eyes boring into your stubborn ones. He wanted to catch you off guard and keep you on your toes. He levels with you now that he has your attention. “Now listen, stubborn,” he starts, eyes flicking, between yours. “Let us take you home. Make sure you’re safe. Get you to that bed, yeah?” He nods as he speaks, eyebrows raising.

You nod in agreement after a moment, too drunk and tired to put up a bigger fight you know you’d lose. Plus, his offer of your bed sounded too enticing to pass up.

“Can you walk for us?” Robby questions, reaching for your other hand to try and steady you.

“I think I might break my nose if I tried,” you breathe out, grasping Robby’s hand with your own, not bothering to acknowledge the swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Easy steps,” Robby mumbles as you move off of Jack to stand by yourself.

You grab Jack’s hand with your other hand and take a step forward. “Atta girl,” Jack praises, which makes your skin burn up even hotter. “Let’s get you to the car.” You nod, taking small steps until you manage to make it around the corner until you reach Frank, Samira, and Mel.

“We’re taking her home,” Robby raises his brow, which makes Frank’s lip quip.

“My purse,” you murmur as you rest your cheek against Jack’s arm.

Before Robby has to ask, Samira hands over your purse, which he holds with the tips of his fingers. They issue their goodbyes, and you manage to mumble a goodbye of your own before they haul you to the door to leave.

"See, I told you!" Frank yells as Jack pushes open the door for you to step through.

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the cheeky smile that spreads across your face as you feel the warmth from their helpful gestures.

It got worse when you finally settled into the car, and Robby leaned over your lap, pressing into your lower stomach to secure your seatbelt.

You felt a deep ache from where he had laid on you the entire drive home.

You craved more—a taste of what your body throbbed for, what it pleaded for.

A voracious hunger within you that couldn't be satisfied by just one touch.

“You’re both just… going to leave,” you mumble as Jack gets your front door open with the key you handed him, and you lean against Robby for stability.

“That’s the plan,” Jack mumbles before an irritated sigh slips through his mouth at the key in the keyhole, which seems to be stuck. “Jesus. This fucking door. I’ll come by tomorrow to fix this,” he says with intent, giving the key a hard twist, making it unlock before pushing it open.

Your heart sinks as it opens, already feeling the loneliness consume you which makes you sober up slightly. “Wait. I just, ah, remembered my sink has been giving me problems,” you say quickly as Jack turns around. “Do you guys mind checking it out?” Your eyes flick between them as they glance at each other. “Pretty please?” 

Robby gazes down at you, his resolve wavering. He looks up and nods towards Jack, a silent command for him to enter. Jack complies, swinging the door open wide, allowing Robby to slip inside with you by his side.

“Which sink?” Jack asks once Robby slips you down on your couch.

You sit up, your face a mix of surprise and confusion. “What?”

Jack’s eyebrow arches. “You said there was a problem with your sink? Which one is it?”

Your mouth drops open a little in remembrance. “Oh. Shit. Yeah, sorry. Uh, the kitchen one,” you hurriedly say, hoping he doesn’t see the crack in your facade.

He nods, moving towards it.

You’re not sure what you’ll say when he doesn’t find any problems, but you’re hoping you’ll have them both in bed before then.

"So… that was some bar crawl, huh?" you chuckle, trying to break the silence with a playful jab. 

"Didn't really get to enjoy it because we had to drag your ass out of the one bar we could make it to," Robby gruffs, though his tone carries a hint of amusement.

You look back at him, his hands over his chest, as Jack kneels to look under the sink. "I'm excellent company," you assure, putting your hand over your chest. "Plus, a little birdie told me I was both of your guys' favorite resident," you lay your cheek on your arm, pressed onto the top of the couch, still looking at him. "So it couldn't have been that bad." 

Jack lets out a deep chuckle, his voice echoing in the cabinet. "Yeah? Who told you that?"

"A little birdie," you confirm, a mischievous glint in your eye as you look at Robby, unwilling to reveal who told you, adding to the mystery. “Am I your favorite, Robby?”

“Don’t answer that, Robby. It’s a trap,” Jack snickers, still occupied with the pipes under the sink, unaware that you have moved from off the couch and now stand in front of Robby, leaning against the sofa, a seductive edge in your tone. 

“I… you’re an excellent doctor,” Robby tries to keep his tone steady.

“Yeah… I think you’re a good doctor, too. One of my favorites,” you move forward, seeing his brown eyes widen in surprise, and yet he doesn’t step away from you, his breath catching in his throat instead. 

“Rude,” Jack voices, moving to stand up, finally facing you and Robby. He tilts his head back as he sees you so close to Robby. “What about… me?” He finishes his sentence, his mouth dry. 

“I said one of my favorites. You’re my other favorite. I would never leave you out, Jack,” you assure, flicking your finger across Robby’s chest, a mischievous glint in your eye as you playfully tease Jack.

Jack crosses his arms over his chest, rocking on his heels. "What kind of game are you playing?" His voice is rough, lower than usual.

You throw your hands up, neglecting the spin of your head as you let go of Robby. "No game," you say honestly. "Just… thinking."

"Thinking about what?" he asks, watching a drunken smirk play on your lips as you glance at Robby in front of you.

You purse your lips, tilting your head towards Jack and then to Robby. "You boys ever share?"  

"What are you getting at?" Jack narrows his eyes.

"I think you should stay… both of you," you lick your lips.

"You're drunk," Robby finally voices, his tone a mix of concern and frustration. 

"You think I wouldn't fuck you sober?" You laugh. "The alcohol just gives me more courage.”

"We're your superiors," Jack shakes his head, his voice carrying a weight of responsibility. "This is messy territory."

"Nothing's fun unless you get a little dirty," you say, flicking your nail across Robby's chest again, making him shudder. "Isn’t that right, Robby?" 

Robby's eyes drift to your glistening lips; you only pull your eyes away from him to look at Jack, his voice echoing around the room.

“Both got scrubs older than you, sweetheart,” Jack reasons, though you can see a slight crack in his resolve.

“Is it supposed to deter me?” You prompt, edging close to where he stands. “Because that just makes you both even sexier in my book,” you stand toe to toe with him, so close he could smell the sweet wine coming off your breath.

“This is inappropriate,” Jack mutters, his voice a low whisper as his eyes flick to your tongue, licking your lips.

You lean in closer to him, hovering your lips over his ear. “Tell me to stop, Jack,” you begin, your hot breath fanning across his skin. “Tell me you don’t want a taste of me,” your tongue darts to run across the helix. “Or a feel of me squirming on your cock,” your hand drifts to rest on his erect cock confined by his jeans. “If you don’t want it… tell me.”

Jack’s head lulls back at your touch as he releases a shallow breath.

“The poor girl is starving, Jack,” Robby mumbles from where he stands. “Don’t leave her hungry,” he tilts his head back, eyes hanging lazily when you look over your shoulder at him. 

You turn to face Jack, and before you can speak, he leans in, pressing a deep kiss to your lips, his frustration rolling off him in sheets. You can feel his body close to yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

He’s hungry, too.

“Knew you needed it, Jackie,” you mumble into his lips. His hands move to grip the fat of your hips, his lips humming against yours with an intensity you yearned for.

You can hear Robby release a sharp breath before you hear his steps on the vinyl edging, closing in closer and closer until he stands behind you. His fingers move across your neck, fanning the hair away so he can press his lips to your skin.

“Taste so sweet,” Robby mutters into your skin as his tongue skims across your flesh, leaving a strip of saliva in its wake. You shiver at the feeling as Jack nips at your lips, coaxing your mouth to open.

Jack’s tongue slips into your mouth, prompting a small whimper to escape your mouth as he lets out a groan at the taste of the sweet liquor coating your tongue. “Mhm. He’s right. Taste so sweet,” Jack gruffs, hands greedily pressing into your lower thigh.

“Should we… move this to my room?” you ask, as Jack’s hand massages one thigh and Robby massages the other.

Robby pats your thigh lightly. “Lead the way, baby.”

It takes everything in you to pull away, but you do only because you know the reward that lies just ahead. You fidget with your fingers as you walk through the hall and shove open your bedroom door, Jack and Robby hot on your heels.

“Cute,” Jack comments as he sees various knick-knacks and trinkets displayed all around your room. He moves over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re sure about this?”

“I am,” you bend up to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I need you both.”

Jack lets out a dry laugh, holding you tighter. “Greedy girl.”

Robby slides behind you, eyeing Jack. “You heard the girl, Abbot,” his hands slide down your back before he squeezes your ass. “She needs us.”

You release a shallow moan that makes Jack’s pupils dilate. “Need it now, Jack,” you moan as Robby’s hand moves up to grope your breast. Instantly, Jack surges forward, his hand gripping your chin to kiss you needily before he walks backward, his hands still on you, to the edge of your bed, where he sits.

You stand in between his legs with Robby to your side. You pull away slightly, but Jack’s fingers find your belt loops on the front of your denim shorts, pulling you back towards him. “You come on me, yeah?” His voice is low, rumbling.

You can feel warm arousal already pooling between your thighs at his command, a soft swirl of your stomach as you nod. He shakes his head, unsatisfied. “Use your words,” he says, fingers tight around your belt loops.

“Yes,” your voice comes out as a strained moan.

He nods along, glancing at Robby. “You want to get her ready, or should I?”

“You do it, Abbot. She’s taking a liking to your theatrics,” the rumbling laugh Robby lets out shoots straight to your core. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?” he asks, moving behind you, his breath fanning across your neck. “Can see you squeezing your thighs every time he breathes. You got it bad for him, huh?” His lips press against your skin as your head rolls to the side, giving him more access.

“You got it bad for me?” Jack teases, fingers moving to unbutton your denim shorts, slipping them down with ease. “Think Robby’s got it bad for you.”

“How could I not?” Robby mumbles, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt before he slips it off your head. “Good God, look at you. So fuckin’ perfect,” he curses as he leans over you to get a look at you.

“Robby, you were right. She’s fuckin’ soaked,” Jack’s fingers drag across the wet spot already formed in your panties.

“Jack,” you mewled, body aching forward at his touch.

Jack tilts his head back cockily. “You like that?” He sucks his teeth before his fingers press back into you.

“Fuck, yes,” you brace your hand on Jack’s shoulder, reaching behind you to grab Robby’s hand to rest it on your stomach. 

Jack gives you a lazy smile, pulling your panties down with a swipe, leaving you bare. “Barely touched you, and you’re glistening,” Jack remarks, catching Robby’s eyes as he presses his fingers into your soaked cunt. 

You squirm on his fingers, cursing Jack when he pulls them out.

Robby runs his fingers up your stomach before picking his hand up to brush his fingers against your pouting lips. “Don’t torture the poor girl, Jack.”

Jack’s lip quips quickly, brushing your arousal, his finger on his jeans before he slips them down, along with his boxers, making his cock spring up. “Turn around,” he instructs, giving himself a nice tuck.

You oblige, Robby’s hand moving down to rest back on your stomach, helping you spin around. Jack pulls you back, slipping his fingers across your slit from behind, making you arch towards Robby. “Open up for me, sweetheart,” Jack mutters, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he nudges himself into your slit.

He hisses as you sink down on him and lets out a loud moan, gripping Robby’s shoulders for support. “You alright?” Jack asks, gripping your waist tight.

“Yes,” you choke out, turning your head to rest on your shoulder to look at him.

“Don’t look at me. Look at him,” Jack groans, grabbing your chin and turning your face to look at Robby, looking at you through half lids.

“Robby… take your, take your pants off,” you manage to sputter as Jack pounds into you.

Robby unzips his pants and slides his boxers off in a smooth motion. Your greedy hands reach out to stroke him as Jack holds onto your waist tighter, sliding into your deeper.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Robby chokes as your hand tightens around him, stroking with his purpose. His hand threads through your hair, massaging your scalp. “That’s a good girl.”

You moan at the endearment and rock yourself against Jack to stimulate your clit.

“Robby,” Jack pants, still moving inside you.

“Yeah.”  Robby doesn’t even have to ask. He brings his fingers to his tongue, coating them in a slick layer of his salvia before he presses them against your clit, giving you more stimulation. “Didn’t even need the spit, huh? You’re drenched,” he rasps as you pump faster, tossing your head back at the hoard of stimulation.

You don't have any breath in you to retort. You can't even think straight, and not even just for the alcohol. Hell, you're sure Jack fucked the booze out of the system. The sheer amount of pleasure running coursing through your veins leaves you almost paralyzed by pleasure, and with each pound of Jack's cock and swirl of Robby's fingers, you're sure you're going to lose it. 

Lose yourself. 

"Fuck, Abbot," Robby curses, watching you squirm, glossy eyes and jaw wide open, his head tipping back as he feels himself edge closer to release. "She's gonna lose it."

Jack lets out a dry laugh, grabbing your jaw. "That true, sweetheart? You want to come?"

"Please! Fuck… I'm so close, Jack," you can feel the heat rushing to your stomach, an impending orgasm looming over your head.

"Come, sweet girl," he murmurs as he feels his body release.

Your body convulses on his lap as a raging orgasm takes over. Robby grunts as he comes not too far behind, head hunched forward as his finger moves directly across your clit, easing you through your climax. 

Jack gives you no time before he taps your thigh, signaling for you to stand. "Let me taste you, sweet girl." You're breathing hard as you stand, grabbing Robby's helping hand to lay on the bed as Jack leans down, licking a stripe of your cunt, collecting your sweet arousal on his tongue. You arch your back, going threading through his curls. 

"Mhm. Sweet," he comments, tongue gleaming. "Come on, Robby. Give our girl a taste."

Robby nods, leaning down to lick your cunt, making you tip your head back, shutting your eyes promptly.

"She's sweet, alright. Think she wants a taste, Jack?" Robby glances at Jack, chest still heaving, his come still fresh on his cock.

"Let me ask her," Jack says, voice low, eyeing you. "You want a taste, baby?" 

Your head flicks up to see their hungry eyes on you. You lick your lips, nodding eagerly. 

Jack shakes his head. "No. Tell him."

"I want to taste you, Robby," you pant, chewing on your lip.

Jack gives you a nod of affirmation as Robby gives you a lopsided smile. You muster up the force to move and bend forward, sitting on your knees and carefully swiping your tongue across his cock, his come coating your tongue and the corners of your mouth.

“Christ,” Robby and Jack both mutter.

You pull away from him, swiping your tongue to clean the corners of your mouth.

“You’ve ruined us,” Jack shakes his head, admiration written all over his face.

“Maybe that’s what you needed,” you retort, looking between them.

“Maybe it is,” Robby mumbles.

MINI AUTHOR'S NOTES⁀➷ i never claimed this would be character accurate, but it was hot, right? dividers by @saradika-graphics

[velvetwyrme]

which deception would have an sti AND fuck cars?

in reference to: https://www.tumblr.com/penny-anna/767952128217104384/imagine-youre-a-mechanic-in-the-transformers?source=share

okay. so. first off. anon, thank you for sending me this because the idea that you read that post and just went- "hey, you know who i should pose this question to?" and sent it to me- is hysterical and i lvoe u.

anyway theres also a Texty answer under the cut if you want to read that, because i genuinely DO have thoughts about this, but i wanted to draw that comic because this ask made me laugh very hard when i saw it in my inbox.

also, the thrilling conclusion of the comic answer:

he fucked that car!!!!!!!

hi! Texty time. I think a lot of them would have/be one but not the other (either has a STI or is a Carfucker) but i included some of those here anyway because i think my thought process was funny for some of them. this is all purely my own opinions etc. etc. no basis for anything only vibes. i went through a lot of options and came to a lot of conclusions.

to reiterate the Chart for claritys sake:

Soundwave: No STI and no Carfucking. This is true across all versions of Soundwave imo. Rumble and Frenzy are a solid no on the STI front and a solid yes on the Carfucking.

Starscream: no STI, no Carfucking (despite what Soundwave thinks). TFP!Starscream specifically might have an STI though. Sorry man. Skywarp definitely has/had a STI but gets it treated on account of his trinemates. No Carfucking. Thundercracker would fuck a car but doesn't have an STI.

Shockwave: ??? - I'm not sure I want to know. "Once, as part of an experiment" was the original thing I wrote for his answer lol. True across continuities as well.

Anyway. moving on...

My actual answer for Megatron: REALLY depends on continuity. Here's a sample:

G1? Yeah, probably both. I can see it.

IDW/MTMTE? Nah. Maybe? ... Nah. I feel like if he had an STI it'd have been back when he was a miner. Would not fuck a car.

Earthspark? I feel like no STI but yes to the Carfucking. Except he feels really guilty about it after. I still haven't watched ES but this is the impression I get from him.

TFA? oh god. i don't know... i don't know....... he probably fucks cars. No STI.

TFP? Yeah absolutely are u kidding me? Yes to both.

Constructicons: I feel like they'd be a yes to both, but not at the same time, so they wouldn't have been the one/s to transmit a STI to a car. Also Hook would be ON TOP of treatment. Once they ALL got infected after combining into Devastator, and that was miserable for everyone. Nobody has fessed up to being the one who had it in the first place, but now they have treatment on hand just in case.

Also while on the topic of combiners... I think some of the Stunticons are also pretty good candidates for STI/Carfucking. Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider in particular shfkgbekfbk

I considered Tarn/The DJD and Overlord just because of how freaky them guys can get, but I think Tarn runs too tight a ship for that to happen, and Overlord is preoccupied with. worse things. The Scavengers on the other hand... sorry to Misfire, I can see him giving a car a STI. Relatedly, Grimlock would fuck a car but not have an STI.

Who else................................ wait.

Astrotrain. I can see it. Okay bye im going to sleep this took me too long to reply to fhfjfbrmfbdj

[umikawa]

a/n: omg ANOTHER senku fic?? Sedate me. I went off topic in this fic and didn’t even try to redeem myself so 🙏 writing Stanley next, wish me luck

senku ishigami x gn!reader | no warnings, set at the end of the village origins arc. 970 wc. Lot of dialogue cause that’s just how I roll (｀_´)ゞ

Senku was tired. 

Thoughts raced in his mind at a mile a minute, never-ending and constantly sprouting. On paper, he was sure it’d mimic the nervous system. Each thought that crossed his mind bothered him to no bounds, leading him to sleepless nights where he would devise plans for any situation that could happen. 

Like how to handle animal attacks like the one with Taiju in the beginning. What to do if there were (somehow) a fish shortage. What the plan was if an unknown settlement comes suddenly to raid the village. What to do if the Tsukasa empire decides to take action first…

For once (more than he’d admit), thinking made his head hurt. A groan leaves his lips as he holds his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe himself. 

“Another late night?” 

He turns around slowly, watching with parted lips as you approach him, a tray with two steaming cups in your hands. “Yeah.” Is all that he can come up with, mouth running dry. He can’t remember the last time he stopped to have a drink.

“You know, for someone as knowledgeable as you, I’d hoped you know that sleeping can be very beneficial to your health.” Senku chuckles at your words, gratefully taking the cup of tea from your hands. “What’s got you so worked up?” 

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, taking a long sip to mask his uncertainty. “I'm just thinking about how this whole thing will play out.” It’s not a lie; he is worried about how everything will go, but it isn’t what he hoped to say. Though, he isn’t too sure what he wanted to say in the first place. 

You hum, leaning against the edge of his workbench. Your eyes trail over the mess of scribbles on the papers in front of him to the notable bags under his eyes. “Have faith,” Senku nearly rolls his eyes. “Believe in your comrades, and everything will fall into place.” 

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the feeling of your hand holding onto his chin, blinking up at you with wide eyes as you tilt his chin. “You should rest, Senku. A general can’t lead an army with only a wink of sleep.”

He laughs to himself, shutting his eyes as he pulls away from your warm touch. “I know.” Is all he responds with. He knows you're right, but he goes back to the drawing board anyway, ignoring the irregular beating in his chest. “You can go.” 

His tone held no malice or annoyance at the blatant dismissal, his words gentle as he cast a glance your way. You’d walked away from the table, standing behind him now, likely to aid him in his next endeavor. 

Once again, Senku jolts at the feeling of your touch. Your arms wrap around his waist from behind, your head pressed in the space between his shoulder blades, and your fingers clutch the fabric of his tunic. 

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks. Voice strained to keep himself from shouting or worse– trembling.

“Come to bed, Senku.” You’d whispered, pulling on his tunic gently. He sighs, running a hand through his hair as the slightest bit of annoyance builds up. 

Not with you, with himself for ignoring his health to the point you were concerned. 

“Alright.” He sighs, turning around in your hold. You weaken your grip the slightest. Senku wonders if you thought he’d run away if otherwise. “Don’t worry, I won’t run.” 

“You’d better not, " you mumble, releasing him fully. Your hand slips into his, fingers intertwining in place. He felt like they were meant to fit together. Senku quirks a brow. “Just in case. Though I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to get very far with your… stamina.”

He rolls his eyes, allowing you to lead him out of the lab. Twigs and dirt crunch under your steps as you approach his hut. His eyes trailed around the village, and a part of him was praying that no one was awake to see you and him together. 

Not that anything was wrong with that– it’d just be another annoyance he’d have to deal with. 

Senku blinks down at your intertwined hands. When was the last time he held hands with someone? Did he ever? A flash of Byakuya crosses his mind, and a smidge of sadness crosses his face at the thought–right, when they went to see fireworks. 

He figures the look was still etched on his face when you entered his hut. Your hand comes to his face, thumb brushing over his knitted brows. He ignores the touch, his eyes lifting to meet yours. 

Instead of asking him what was wrong, as he thought you would, you wordlessly pulled him into you, fingers carding into his hair and ruffling it around. He groans out a noise of protest, frowning at the wide smile on your face.

“There’s something wrong with you,” he says, rolling his eyes when you pinch his cheeks. “Ten billion percent.” You don’t say a word in response, only messing his hair up even more until it falls in front of his eyes. “You’re weird.”

You scoff at the insult, pinching his chin. “Yeah? And what are you, normal?” He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re the craziest guy in this village, Senku. I assure you.” He chuckles at your words, and only then does he realize what you’ve done for him. 

Tore him away from his work, successfully relieving him of his stress and calming his mind. 

Except his mind wasn’t calm, and a million thoughts swarmed his head the second he locked eyes with you again. Did you always make his heart race when you looked at him?

And when did you get so… pretty?

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

teach me? // Quinn Hughes

a drunk conversation leaves your best friend wondering.

AN: based off this anon, this is the first of a few ideas i have for this topic so enjoy part one!🫶🏻

WC: 1.1k

CW: smut, quinn talks you through it, fem masturbating, a little bit of possessive quinn.

Quinn knows he should leave, he knows he shouldn't break your trust and listen but his feet won't move. He can hear your giggles, not a sign of discomfort in the conversation. A drastic difference from anytime you've been around the guys when these topics are brought up.

“y/n! Are you telling me you’ve never gotten off?!” There was another laugh, he couldn't tell who. Too focused on your answer. How could no one treat you right? No one’s found pleasure between your thighs? Tragedy for them, he thought to himself.

“Oh my god, no. I have gotten off, just not manually? If that makes sense. Like, no one else. No hands, nothing but the handy dandy vibrator.”

He needed to leave, his mind wandering and he knew all the guys would just chirp at him if he walked back with a hard on.

Everyone started to slowly make their way to bed, calling it a night yourself around 1:30. Your room right across from Quinn’s. You knew he was already locked away, trying your best to stay quiet while you were in and out of the bathroom that shared a wall.

Finally settling in your bed and grabbing your phone, seeing a text from Quinn. Come here, please. Followed with another text, Don't knock, just come in.

“Hi Q.” He was quick to pat his bed, “I need to ask you something, and you can tell me no or to fuck off and I wont ever bring it up again. I just, I need to ask.” You nodded at the man, who's now pacing. “I’m telling on myself and I'm sorry in advance. I was walking by when you and the girls were chatting and somethings been stuck in my head since and it makes me feel so bad because you absolutely don't deserve that kind of shit treatment. Oh god, I'm rambling. Anyways, no one ever made you cum? I can show you, oh my god I need to shut up.”

Your face was flushed, your nerves were setting in. Did Quinn just offer to get me off?

As if he could read my mind, “I don’t have to do it! I can just tell you what to do. Like you get yourself off and I just kind of lead the way.”

“You wanna teach me how to make myself cum?” Your voice was small, he was sure if he wasn’t staring at you he wouldn’t have heard. He nodded.

“Yeah, okay. Teach me, Quinny.”

That dumb conversation led you here. On his bed, pj shorts on the floor, legs spread and Quinn watching you from his desk chair.

You were both giggly about it. The nerves settled, it seemed a little funny, silly even. But he's your best friend. Who cares? All bad thoughts went away the second your legs spread and the man's eyes went a little wide, pupils blown as he watched your hand roam down your body.

“Fuck. You’re pretty.” He whispered to himself.

This wasn't sexy, well it wasn't meant to be, at least to your brain.

“Uh, like this?" you asked, a little embarrassed. "Fuck, this is stupid."

You were against his pillows, unable to fully look at Quinn who was still at his desk, starry eyes watching you intently.

Your hand was down the front of your body, shaky fingers searching for something you shared you'd never been able to achieve on your own.

Quinn adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts. Forever wishing he put on boxers before you came to his room.

He didn't know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked, "Are you even touching your clit?”

His words ran through you, a simple question truly but it was bordering on the dirty talk you desperately craved to come from his mouth.

You squirmed, shrugging, but he was watching your hand move, content with seeing your fingers moving through your folds.

"I think so?" you claimed. "I don't know. It's just, it's too wet to feel anything really."

Quinn felt his breath get stuck in his throat.

You finally looked up at his face and watched his cheeks burn, wondering if he'd move closer if you asked him to.

You dont know what fell out of your mouth, your brain is just on autopilot. Quinn’s now at the edge of his bed. Hands holding your ankle, rubbing softly.

"No, I know. fuck, um-" Quinn swallowed, shifting again. "Move in circles, be a bit softer. Fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, you'll feel it."

So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your folds, moving a little higher until you reached the spot he was just picking on you for, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your breath hitch.

“There you go, just like that.” He spoke.

You laughed to yourself, feeling stupid, and floaty, searching for that high. You crinkled your nose, as you did slow circles, soft and shy.

"Oh," you mumbled, mouth parting slightly. Still watching Quinn. He pressed his lips together, eyes flickering from your hand to your face.

"Yeah? Does that feel good?"

"Uh huh, feels good."

You thought you heard him let out a groan.

"Will I come?" you asked, still feeling small. "If I keep doing this?"

You were squirming again, moaning softly, chasing your high. He was watching you, open mouthed.

He was too far gone to try and hide it anymore, when he dragged his palm over himself, you moaned, eyes following his movements.

"Yeah, fuck. just keep doing that. Do what feels good, okay?" voice hoarse and wrecked, "you're doing so good, baby."

The praise made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers moving down a little further, confidence building as Quinn kept rubbing over his cock, "Holy shit, that's fucking hot. You gonna show me how tight you are?" he croaked.

"Uh huh", head tipped back into the pillows. you wanted him to keep talking. You just didn't know how to ask him.

Your foot slipped, bumping into Quinn’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around as he held you, making you shiver. "Oh, there you go," he murmured. "That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so good. Gonna have to stretch you out more if you ever want me in there, baby. Fuck. Can't believe you're gonna let me watch you cum. Gonna be a good girl and show me how bad you want it? Won't ever need anyone else after this. Just me and you."

[clairenatural]

Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.

It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.

It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.

He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.

Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.

So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.

It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 

The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”

It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.

Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.

"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.

Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.

"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.

"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.

He turns the keys. He drives them home.

Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).

Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.

It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"

Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."

"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."

"You didn't correct her?"

"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.

"Uh huh."

"It felt trivial."

"To tell her we're not married?"

"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.

Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."

"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.

Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.

"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"

Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"

Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."

Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."

Across the table, Cas grins at him.

"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.

"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."

"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."

They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.

[dex0s]

DON'T WORRY 'BOUT A THING// YAN!KPDH x READER

WORD COUNT: 1.9K

WARNING:YANDERE TENDENCY (wait until the next chapter...) REWRITING

CHAPTER 2 <<< CHAPTER 3 (Here) >>>> CHAPTER 4

(A/N): these three chapters are discontinued but it’s being rewritten I’m just keeping these up if people want to take this idea not the other one I’m writing

AT HUNTR/X HOUSE

"So, let me get this straight," you blurt out, words tumbling over each other in disbelief. "Demons are actually real like, real real, and they're trying to destroy this thing called the Honmoon, which I still don't even understand. And the Saja boys... they're demons too? Or whatever?" Your voice rises slightly with each sentence, the confusion piling up. "And somehow, I'm connected to all of this... because my emotions my feelings apparently affect the Honmoon?" You pause, staring at Rumi with wide eyes, as if seeing her for the first time. "Seriously, what are you? Are you even human?"

"What?" Rumi's eyes widen, her expression flickering with something between panic and awkward surprise. She looks between Mira and Zoey, as if silently begging them for backup, but they don't say a word. "W-What? O Of course I'm human!" she says, her voice a little too high pitched to sound convincing. Her eyes dart nervously before landing back on you. "What kind of question is that?" she adds with an exaggerated laugh, plastering on the biggest, most forced smile you've ever seen, like a kid caught sneaking candy and trying way too hard to act normal.

You glance at Mira and Zoey, and all three of you share the same bewildered expression—eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted, heads tilted just enough to silently ask, Did she really just say that?

Rumi clears her throat and straightens up, her cheerful act vanishing like a mask being pulled away. "Anyway," she says, voice suddenly sharp and focused, "back to the real problem. You can't trust the Saja boys."

Her tone sends a ripple of tension through the room.

Zoey moves quickly, almost too quickly, plopping down next to you on the couch with a sudden burst of energy. "Yeah! You should totally stay away from them" She pauses, then lights up. "Oh! Did I ever tell you I'm, like, a huge fan of your music?"

"Zoey," Rumi and Mira say in perfect unison, both staring at her with that older sibling look of disappointment and mild judgment.

Zoey winces, turning to flash them an apologetic grin. "Right! Right, sorry, off topic. Very off topic." She quickly refocuses on you, her tone shifting back to serious, well, as serious as Zoey gets. "But really, you should stay away from those demons. Or any demons, honestly. Matter of fact..." Her eyes sparkle mischievously, "Why don't you just stay with us? We can keep you safe. Protected. You'd be totally demon free and also surrounded by your fans." She beams at you, her smile wide and oddly reassuring.

"Um" You hesitate, glancing between the three girls. Their faces are nearly identical: wide smiles, eyes sparkling a little too brightly, like they're way too excited about the idea of keeping you here forever.

"Well..." you say slowly, backing up half a step, "as tempting as that offer sounds, I think I should, uh, head home. Try to clear my head, maybe get my brain out of the emotional dumpster fire it's currently in."

Just then, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out and glance at the screen.

Rual: Hey, are you ready to leave? I've got the car running. Just come down when you're ready.

"Oh, look at that," you say, waving your phone like a get out of jail free card. "Just got a message from Rual. He's downstairs waiting, sooo... I better get going, you know?"

You start walking slowly toward the elevator, trying not to sprint. Each step feels like you're escaping a velvet lined trap.

"Wait a minute," Rumi calls out behind you. Her tone has shifted again, urgent now, like she suddenly remembered something important. You hear her footsteps following you.

You reach the elevator and step inside, slapping the "First Floor" button a little harder than necessary. The doors begin to close, but Rumi moves fast, almost too fast.

You give her a tight, nervous smile as the gap between the doors narrows. "Bye-bye! See you guys!" you say in a sing song tone that doesn't quite mask your panic.

"Hey, wait! I have one more thing to say--!" Rumi lunges forward, arm half extended like she's going to stop the doors.

But it's too late.

Ding.

The doors shut with a soft whoosh, cutting her off mid-sentence. Her voice is silenced, and you're left alone in the elevator, heart pounding.

The hum of the elevator moving downward is the only sound now, but your thoughts are racing. What exactly did she want to say? And why did it feel like the second you let your guard down, something really weird was going to happen?

You grip your phone tighter, your thumb hovering over Rual's contact. Just in case.

As the elevator glides down, you lean back against the wall, feeling the vibrations in your spine, but your thoughts are louder than the soft hum around you.

Demons... Honmoon... and I'm somehow the center of it all?

You let out a shaky breath, eyes fixed on the glowing floor numbers as they tick down, but your mind is spinning. The fear creeping into your chest has nothing to do with a concert or paparazzi ambush—it's the kind that settles deep, like ice in your bones. Not even the thousands of flashing cameras or screaming fans you've faced feel this overwhelming.

You're a global icon. Everyone knows your name. Your songs have topped charts in nearly every country. You've performed in front of oceans of people, lived through sleepless tour nights, headlines, scandals, expectations, but this? This is different.

Because now, reality is breaking.

Demons exist. The Honmoon is real. And I'm... connected to it?

You don't even know what the Honmoon is, not really, but the way they spoke about it made your skin crawl. Sacred. Powerful. Dangerous.

And apparently... tied to you.

You grip your phone a little tighter, the screen still glowing with Rual's message.

You think back to what they said. To how Rumi stared at you like you were something fragile and strange. The way Zoey smiled too wide, like she knew something you didn't. And Mira—quiet, watchful. Always watching.

What even is the Honmoon? you wonder. The word feels ancient. Heavy. Like it doesn't belong in your glittering, fast moving world of awards and afterparties.

And then, a thought creeps in—one you don't remember anyone saying, but you feel it in your bones.

Two bodies. One soul.

The idea lingers, haunting. Is that what the Honmoon is? A bond between two beings who share one soul across different lives? Different forms?

If that's true, then where's the other half of you?

The elevator dings. The doors slide open.

You're back in the lobby. Polished floors, soft lighting, and the faint hum of luxury all around you. But everything feels... thinner now. Fragile. Like the world you've known is just a stage set, and someone just tore down the curtain.

You step out as the elevator doors glide open with a soft ding, and immediately—you feel it.

A low hum, like a distant song buried beneath the floor. It thrums up through your shoes, into your ankles, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat. Every step you take down the polished hallway makes it stronger, more noticeable. Not sound exactly—but sensation. Like a whisper under your skin.

You pause mid step, eyes dropping to the ground.

And that's when you see it.

Beneath the marble floor, a faint network of glowing lines. Blue. Luminous. Alive. They're subtle at first—easily missed by anyone not paying attention. But right beneath your feet, they shine brighter than the rest. The lines twist and curve like veins, or... threads in a tapestry.

And then, you see it: a shimmer. A form.

For a split second—just a blink—you see another you. A reflection, maybe. Or not a reflection at all. A translucent silhouette, walking in perfect sync just beneath the floor. The same walk. The same hesitation. The same unease.

Your breath catches.

You don't know whether to scream, freeze, or reach out. But then... you feel it again.

That humming—not cold or threatening, but warm. Gentle. Like a lullaby without words. It's not trying to frighten you. If anything, it feels like it's trying to soothe you. Calm you. Lull you.

Or maybe... make you forget.

Forget the demons. Forget the strange smiles. Forget Rumi's voice cut off by the elevator doors. Forget the truth that's starting to dig its way under your skin.

The hum gets stronger, softer at the same time—like a weighted blanket pulling at your thoughts.

You blink hard and take a step back. "No," you whisper, grounding yourself. "Not yet."

You shake your head and refocus, forcing your eyes away from the glowing lines. You can't afford to forget. Not now. Not when things are just beginning to unravel.

You glance up, scanning for Rual—hoping he's still waiting outside.

Because whatever that was beneath your feet?

It wasn't just power.

It was you.

And maybe... it was the other half of your soul, calling from below.

You push through the front doors of the building, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The world feels different now—heavier, like the sky itself is pressing down—but the second you see him, a thread of familiarity pulls you back to earth.

Rual sits behind the wheel, the car parked just a few steps ahead. One arm rests casually on the door, the window rolled down. Your voice floats from the speakers—one of your songs—and he's lightly nodding his head to the beat, like it's just another day.

You walk over slowly, your feet still buzzing faintly from whatever that humming under the building was. Rual notices you, his head turning with an easy smile. "Hey," he calls out over the music, casual and warm.

"Hey, Rual..." you murmur, your voice quieter than usual as you open the back door and slide in. You sink into the seat, your body there but your mind drifting somewhere else entirely—back to glowing lines, hidden reflections, and words you don't understand.

Rual shifts in his seat, glancing up at the rearview mirror. His dark eyes meet yours, and his brow furrows slightly at the distant look on your face.

"Hey... (Y/N), is everything okay?" His voice is gentle, but steady—grounding.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to blink yourself back into the present. "Hah... yeah. I'm good." You try to smile, but it barely reaches your eyes.

Rual narrows his gaze, not quite convinced—but he doesn't push it. He knows you too well for that. Instead, he leans forward and turns the music down slightly. "You wanna go get some (F/F)? It always puts you in a good mood."

You look up again, this time managing a real smile. In the mirror, your eyes meet his, and something in your chest unclenches.

You nod. "Yeah... that sounds perfect."

As he pulls away from the curb, you rest your head back and watch the city blur past the window. Your thoughts are still a mess—but for the first time tonight, you feel just a little less alone.

You think about Rual. He's been with you through everything—before the fame, through the chaos, through the hardest nights. Somehow, no matter how much you try to hide what you're feeling, he always sees right through you. And you love that about him.

Your smile softens, and in your heart, you whisper:

Thank you, Rual, for being by my side. 가장 친한 친구.

TAGLIST (Comment on this post to be put on) : @reni502, @zomqiez

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 6- The mission is non-existent

TW: School shooting

______________________________

Damian looks around the room, it feels more like an apartment rather than a room

"No wonder the miss rarely comes down for food, with the amount of kitchen appliances here she'd rival a small town restaurant..." Alfred chuckles, he looks at the expensive, top grade materials

"There's nothing in the fridge though..." Jason grumbles, Duke is asleep beside you holding your hand and Bruce admires the scene "That's enough, stop rummaging through your sister's stuff"

He looks around your room, pictures of your friends, you at parties, you at school events, how the fuck?, you held your own charity gala? How??? Where did you get the money? How did this not reach him?

"hng- ow- What the fuck!?" You wake up and you see the cast of the Addams family surrounding you

"Don't try to overdo it" Dick helps you sit up

"Huh?"

Reader! You are fucked, everyone's hatred meter has gone down to 10%, EVEN DAMIAN AND JASON'S METER

You shift further away from Dick, his gaze turns sad sensing your discomfort with him, he really needs to change that

"Is there something you need?" Duke asks, he holds your hand tight, "Do you need us to do something?" Asked Tim

"Can you all please leave my room..." You say and you see that Bruce hesitates "Are you sure? You might need assistance?"

Reader, make them go away, it keeps on dropping! If it reaches zero you'll fail!

"There's no need, it was just fear gas..."

_____________________________

School was absolute shit.

Damian had pulled you away from your friends to eat with you during recess, you'd also found out Tim bribed the principal to switch your classes so you'd have the same as his

Some of your friends are annoyed that your siblings are meddling, they've never eaten lunch with you before? Why now? And others are cooing, they've never seen you interact with your siblings, and the fact your gentler with your friends than your siblings makes them happy

Your teachers are grateful that you manage to tame Damian

"(Name)! I watched your violin concert last night! You were amazing!" Says a student, you smile "Thank you!"

Then the student's mood shifts "I heard that the route you were taking home was attacked by both the Joker and Scarecrow right? Are you okay?" They ask, the surrounding students get curious but don't necessarily engage

"yeah... I'm fine" you say, you're trying to think of ways to differentiate the topic, the student gasps "Oh but I saw on the news that you were one of scarecrow's victims! And that you inhaled the fear gas..." She says as she smirks, "I don't really want to talk about it, and I'm fine..." You answer

"Oh but-" Damian grabs her arm and pushes her away from you "She says she doesn't want to talk about it? Why are you pushing?! Are you really worried or you just wanted gossip?" He snarls

You see the girl wince but smiles anyway "ah right... Sorry"

And then it hit... An attack? It hits your school so fast, the students scream and panic, "Everyone out!" Shouted a security guard, you hear a bunch of gunshots in the halls and the screams from that direction become quieter until it stopped completely see

Are you serious?

A school shooting.

Never in your original years and reincarnated years combined have you ever been so fucking scared and pissed off at the same time

First and foremost, you just survived the mother fucking scarecrow, now you have to survive guns?

Damian holds your hand and runs away with you, "What are you doing!? You're supposed to save people!?' you whisper-yell to him, he gets you to a hidden area and hands you a small dagger he hid in his socks, he looks at you worryingly "Stay here, wait till I get back-"

"They've been apprehended!" yelled a student, "Well... There's no need for that huh?", slowly you and Damian walk out of the room to see what happened? Did another bat get them already? Was it Tim?

Then you see her.

In a hero costume, trapping the shooters with what seem to be magical ropes, her costume design looked like it was stolen from my hero academia

"There's no need for all of you to worry, for I Protagonist has taken care of them, they'll be handed over to the police" she says

"Did she really name herself 'Protagonist'?" Tim comes from behind you looking baffled at the name choice

"At least she saved us" you say

_____________________________

Hey so do you guys remember that one comment about the family couch on chapter 2? And how all the years of living there you never sat on it? Well after days of the family trying to get you to watch a movie with them on the couch, you confessed you feel weird about sitting somewhere sacred to them

You come home after volunteering at a soup kitchen that the family couch is gone, replaced by a new pristine couch with comfortable pillows

Stephanie smiles at you "You're back! Wash up, the family is watching a movie" mixed in her voice a tone of dominance, you can't say no

You find yourself huddled up, you feel yourself sweating as Tim curls up on you and Cass is leaning on your shoulder, Dick hand you the remote "You pick" she says

You scroll for a few moments and you feel the family get a bit impatient, so you click on the nearest movie you find

Bad idea.

It was a movie about a dog being abandoned by their owner in a hike and as they try to find their way home they die

You're in shambles, you've watched people die in movies, either terminal illnesses, a series of unfortunate events, murder, you've cried to some, some didn't phase you

But a sad dog movie?

You are wrecked, Jason hands you your 3rd tissue pack, your inconsolable, you hate animals getting sad endings, the. Titus licks your hand, Damian brought him to console you, while Bruce chooses another movie, this time he chose a dog movie with a happy ending, you hugged Titus the whole night

It happened to you before, when you and your friends were in a really lengthy assembly, they fell asleep on your shoulders, you made it your mission to not move at all, you didn't want to wake them, you liked that they learned on you for comfort

But Tim and Cass sleeping on you, you have no idea what to do, your instincts that you got because of your friends tell you to stay still so they'd be comfortable

Another part of you is screaming that if you don't move the hatred meter will go down

And go down it did

Everyone is down to 2%, you can't let it get to zero, you can't

Bruce looks at you "(Name) about your upcoming 16th birthday-"

He sees you asleep, he smiles and admires his children

Matter of fact you were just pretending to be asleep, if you hear another birthday party plan you'll die, last year you had that Damian excuse, but now? You're out of reasons to not have that stupid party

So you sleep...

Oh well look at all of you...

What a happy family.

You're done for.

_____________________________

Damian: I need to place (Name) in a safe space before helping

Protagonist: the job is done

Tim: Tacky fucking name

_____________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

The Best Friend Showdown

Season four had many, many flaws. One of the big ones was the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict where Ladybug starts relying on Alya more and more, basically using her to replace Master Fu. We get a sense that Chat Noir feels inferior to Rena Rouge because of this change, but it’s never directly addressed. The most we get is this conversation from Hack-San:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right. 

Which is actually a really weird bit of dialogue because - as far as I can tell - nothing in the episode revealed that Scarabella knew Ladybug's identity. She hands out miraculous all the time and no one knows who she really is. Why would this time be different? Ladybug could just show up in costume, explain what's up, and then hand off the earrings while using yet another miraculous.

Anyway, the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict is “resolved” by Rena Rouge being outed again (and I guess that matters this time), leading her to give up her miraculous so that Gabriel can’t steal it away, which of course leads Gabriel to steal it away and fully disempower Ladybug’s larger team, leaving Chat Noir her only teammate.

How satisfying! This is such good, character-driven story telling!

It’s not. This is plot contrivances to the max with no meaningful character beats, but we’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to do one of my favorite things: gush about a relevant Kim Possible episode! Today’s topic is episode 12 of season one: Pain King vs. Cleopatra, the episode that introduces Kim’s female BFF, Monique!

This was a bit of a shocker for me because I didn’t realize that Kim and Monique weren’t pre-series friends. Turns out that, much like Alya, Monique is a new girl, which isn’t a bad call. This was a nice way to delay Monique’s introduction for a few episodes so that the writers could focus on establishing Kim’s relationship with other key members of the cast like her partner, Ron. Spacing out your intros is the way to go whenever you can pull it off as it’s a kindness to your audience that keeps them from feeling overwhelmed, making it more likely that they’ll remember your cast.

The other, more important similarity between Alya and Monique is that, when Kim’s hero partner and life-long friend finds out about Monique, he is less than thrilled:

Kim: I barely got to see them. Right after I hooked up with Monique, the museum was robbed by some glowing-headed animal guy. Ron: Oh, that's nice. Ron: Wait a minute, who's Monique? Kim New friend, really great. Anyway, the thief stole an enchanted ancient talisman. Ron: Whoa, whoa, back up! How can I not know about a new friend? Kim: I met her at Club Banana, then again at the museum before I chased the glowing robber. Ron: So what's she like? Kim: The robber? Ron: The friend, Kim, the "new friend".

Throughout the episode, Kim and Monique continue to bond without Ron, leaving Ron feeling left out:

Ron: Seein' a pattern here, Rufus: Kim does her thing, I do my thing, and pretty soon - we're doing different things.

Which leads him to get a little territorial:

Kim Ron! What are you doing here? Ron: Can I dine with my best friend and her new friend? Kim: Uuh, Ron, Monique, and vice versa. Ron: Bearclaw? Monique: No, thanks, I'm vegetarian. Ron: Uhm, I'm pretty sure it's imitation bear? Kim: She's joking, Ron. Ron: Good one, hahaha, ha, good one. So, did Kim tell you that I'm her sidekick? Cause that role is definitely taken by me. Monique: Riiiight. Well, in... you know I better get to class. Later, Kim. Um, n-nice meeting you, Ron. Ron: Likewise, I'm sure! Kim: What is your problem? You're acting really weird. Ron: Well, let's see. You went to the museum with Monique, not me. Monique was with you this morning, not me. Hmm, pattern? Kim: Yeah. You. Weird. Ron: No, we're drifting apart because you're excluding me. Kim: I am not excluding you. It's just that you and Monique are... different.

Noticing some similarities to Miraculous here?

So how does Kim Possible resolve this conflict?

Well, the plot of this episode resolves around Kim Possible’s version of professional wrestling, the GWA. There’s a competition going on that Kim has no interest in watching (mood), but when Kim mentions the GWA to Monique:

Monique: Why didn't you bring [Ron] along? Kim: Unless someone put a waiter in a headlock, this is definitely not Ron's scene. Besides, he had a date with "Steel Toe". Monique: He scored tickets to Mayhem in Middleton? The GWA rocks! Kim: What?

It turns out that Monique and Ron have a shared interest! Multiple shared interests, in fact! Interests that Kim does not share:

Monique: You know, I still can't believe you met Pain King and Steel Toe. Ron: I can't believe you're into wrestling. Kim: I can't believe I know either one of you.

By the end of the episode, the conflict is resolved not with Kim having to pick a BFF or with Monique somehow being demoted, but by showing that this didn’t need to be a conflict at all. Kim can have multiple close friends that she shares different interests with without any of those friends being lesser. Those friends can, in turn, have their own friendships that don’t always involve her.

It’s a genuinely lovely resolution that makes me love this little friend group because it now has added complexity. Monique and Ron are friends in their own right! Kim is not the center of the universe in spite of her main character status!

I also love that Kim isn’t vilified for having other friends or portrayed as constantly leaving Ron out of things that he'd want to do in favor of Monique. Ron genuinely would not enjoy most of the things that the girls love to do together. At the same time, Ron’s feeling aren’t treated as totally irrational either and Kim even admits to ditching him. It’s a genuine, complex conflict that is super common when someone enters a new relationship be it platonic or romantic.

Obviously Kim Possible’s version of this conflict feels far less complex than Miraculous’ because Kim Possible understood that Ron should be Kim’s one-and-only partner, so his position was really never threatened. Monique does not want to be an action hero and is never given the sort narrative weight that elevates her to Ron’s level or higher, but that doesn't matter. The basic lesson here is still relevant and super important for the intended audience of both of these shows.

There did not need to be a Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict that never got properly resolved. Miraculous could have made these two friends and no, Scarabella doesn't count because Chat Noir has no idea that Scarabella is Rena Rouge/Furtive. Their relationship ended at the end of Hack-San. He didn't even know that Rena Furtive was a thing until she was in the process of being benched and that's the problem.

Kim Possible is not a team show, Miraculous is, and yet Kim Possible has better team dynamics than Miraculous. Monique could have joined Kim's team at the end of Pain King vs. Cleopatra and it would have felt natural because both Kim and Ron had welcomed Monique and formed a genuine bond with her. This is a true friend group that Miraculous can only dream of even though they've been adding new superheroes since season two.

We're going into a season with a full, massive team and yet that team has no established dynamics on the hero side. It's not a functional team! None of these characters have meaningful relationships with each other as heroes save for Alya and Nino since they know each other’s secret identities. The only relationships Miraculous cares about are the various romances and everyone's relationship to Marinette and everyone suffers for it.

The show would not have been harmed by Rena Rouge, Chat Noir, and Ladybug being a team. It was the thing I kept think after watching the Kim Possible episode. Since the team is the end game, why aren't we seeing them? It would have been so nice to have Hack-San end with Ladybug introducing Chat Noir to Rena Furtive instead of a nonsense discussion about an issue the episode didn't even address.