#as I said Im not sure there's anything new in there

[hyuniemyunie]

cho hyun ju x top male reader⋆⭒˚.⋆

nsfw

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(ФωФ): testing out her new pussy. yeah.

IM SO SORRY I DELETED YOUR ASK ON ACCIDENT LEO PFP IM SO SORRYYY😭😭😭

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

Hyun-Ju had never been the type to lean on others. Independence had been burned into her bones from the moment she stepped into military training, reinforced by years of isolation, survival, and a deep-seated fear of being seen as anything less than capable. But now, as she lay in the soft glow of warm lamplight, body still adjusting to the changes she had long dreamed of, she found herself allowing something new—vulnerability.

The apartment was quiet except for the rhythmic hum of the city outside, faint sirens wailing in the distance, the occasional chatter of late-night pedestrians. It felt oddly peaceful. The kind of peace she had never thought she would deserve. But here, wrapped in fresh sheets and the warmth of another body beside her, she let herself breathe.

Her fingers ghosted over the band of gauze still lingering on her side, a subconscious reminder of the journey she had taken to reach this moment. The weight of the past was still there—heavy, aching—but the presence next to her grounded her in the present.

"How do you feel?" your voice was gentle, but there was an underlying firmness to it, a steady presence that always managed to keep her from spiraling too deep into her own thoughts.

Hyun-Ju let out a slow breath, tilting her head toward you. Even in the dim light, she could see the concern etched into your expression, the way your eyes traced over her as if making sure she was still real. She had been through hell, and you had been there, waiting, patient.

“I feel…” she paused, struggling to find the right words. For so long, her body had felt like a battlefield—one she fought against, one she endured, one she reshaped with every ounce of willpower she had. And now, after everything, it was hers. Truly hers. The realization was overwhelming in ways she hadn't expected. "Better. Lighter." She exhaled a small laugh. "Like I can finally just… exist."

You smiled, shifting closer, your hand reaching for hers. She let you take it, intertwining your fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of your skin against hers was steady, reassuring. It made her feel seen, whole, despite the scars—both the ones that marked her body and the ones she carried inside.

“You deserve this," you murmured, thumb brushing softly over her knuckles. "Every part of it. The peace. The happiness. Feeling comfortable in your own skin."

She swallowed, emotions tightening in her throat. It had been so long since someone had looked at her this way—not just with desire, but with understanding. With patience.

A beat of silence passed before she spoke again, her voice softer now. "It's been a long time since I let myself be… held like this." A small, self-conscious chuckle escaped her. "I think I forgot how."

You didn’t rush to respond. Instead, you lifted her hand to your lips, pressing a lingering kiss against her knuckles before meeting her gaze again.

"Then let me remind you."

Her breath hitched slightly, heat creeping up her neck. There was something about the way you said it—not demanding, not forceful, just a quiet promise. A reassurance that she didn’t have to prove anything right now. She could just be.

She squeezed your hand in response, lips parting as if to say something, but in the end, she simply let herself melt into your touch.

Hyun-Ju tensed slightly as you leaned down, a flicker of self-consciousness passing through her. It was one thing to feel comfortable in her own skin, but it was another to be so vulnerable, so exposed. Especially when the body she now inhabited was still so new to her, the changes still settling into place.

She swallowed hard, heart pounding in her chest as you gently parted her legs, cool air meeting her newly formed folds. The gauze bandage was gone now, revealing smooth, unblemished skin that seemed to glisten softly in the low light. The sight of it, the reality of what she had endured and achieved, made her throat constrict with emotion. Your gaze was soft as it traced over her, taking in every dip and curve of her transformed body. There was no judgement, no hesitation—only a quiet appreciation, a gentle wonder. It made her feel cherished, desired, in a way that she had never experienced before.

She could feel the heat of your breath against her most intimate place, could sense the way you were taking in every detail. Part of her wanted to close her legs, to hide herself away from your gaze. But a bigger part of her, the part that had fought so hard to claim this body as her own, wanted to be seen. Wanted to revel in the fact that she was finally, truly a woman.

Your fingers brushed softly over her outer lips, tracing the delicate skin with a gentleness that made her shiver. She was still getting used to the sensitivity, the way every touch seemed amplified, electrified. Your fingertips dipped lower, parting her folds with a careful, teasing motion.

A soft gasp escaped her at the contact, back arching slightly off the bed. Her hands clenched in the sheets, gripping the fabric tightly as a wave of sensation crashed over her. Your finger circled her clit, drawing a whimper from her throat. The sound was foreign to her own ears, a desperate, needy thing that she had never allowed herself to make before. But here, now, with you, she let it spill freely from her lips.

"Hyun-Ju," you murmured, your voice a low rumble that she could feel vibrating through her core. "You're beautiful."

Hyun-Ju's breath hitched, a flush spreading over her cheeks at the raw, intimate way you were looking at her most private place. She could feel the heat of your gaze, the weight of your admiration, and it made her feel seen in a way she never had before. Exposed, but in the best possible way.

Your finger traced lower, teasing along her slit with a feather-light touch. She was already wet, arousal glistening on her newly formed folds. A soft moan escaped her as you explored her, hips shifted restlessly against the sheets, body canting into your touch. She could feel the ache building inside her, the desperation for more.

But you were taking your time, savoring every moment. Your finger circled her entrance, applying the lightest pressure, before dipping inside just slightly. The stretch was new, unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. She could feel her body yielding to you, opening up, inviting you in.

"Please," she gasped out, voice trembling with need. "Touch me more."

Your eyes flicked up to meet hers, a smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. "Patience, Hyun-Ju," you murmured, voice low and teasing. "I want to take this slow. I want to make this good for you."

She whimpered, fingers twisting in the sheets as your finger pushed in a little deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure coiling tight in her lower belly.

Hyun-Ju's heart raced as she heard your words, a thrill running through her at the promise in your tone. She could feel the urgency building inside her, the desperate need for more. The slow, teasing touches were driving her to the brink of madness, leaving her aching and wanting.

Without warning, you plunged two fingers deep inside her, filling her in one swift motion. A cry tore from her throat, back arching off the bed as pleasure exploded through her. She was so tight, so hot and slick around your invading digits. You could feel her walls clenching down, gripping you like a vice.

"Fuck, you're so tight," you groaned, pumping your fingers in and out of her. Your other hand reached up to palm her breast, kneading the soft flesh. "I can feel you squeezing around me."

Hyun-Ju could only moan in response, lost to the sensation of finally being filled, of being touched the way she had always dreamed of being touched. Your thumb found her clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub. Sparks of ecstasy shot through her with each press, each flick.

She could feel the pleasure building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter. Her hips rocked into your hand, meeting each thrust, silently begging for more. The obscene sound of wet flesh meeting wet flesh filled the room, punctuated by her increasingly desperate moans.

"Yes, fuck, don't stop," she gasped out, fingers tangling in your hair. "Feels so good..hah..haah..I'm so-so close!"

You could feel her walls beginning to flutter around your fingers, her body tensing. You doubled your efforts, fingers pumping harder, faster, as you rubbed her clit with quick, firm strokes. Your mouth found her nipple, suckling hard, grazing the sensitive bud with your teeth.

That was all it took to send Hyun-Ju hurtling over the edge. Her orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave, back bowing as she moaned out her pleasure into the room. Her sex clenched down around your fingers, gripping you like a silken vice as she rode out the intense waves of her climax.

You gentled your touch, letting her float down from her high as you slowly withdrew your fingers from her still spasming core. Hyun-Ju collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat coating her skin. her eyes fluttered open, a hazy gaze falling upon you as you shifted between her legs. She could see the prominent bulge straining against your clothing, the evidence of your own arousal. A part of her felt a flicker of nerves, unsure of how this would feel, how she would handle the addition of your penis inside her still new, sensitive body. But a bigger part of her felt a surge of desire, a deep yearning to feel you inside her in the most intimate way possible.

"Let me see it," she murmured, voice low and sultry. "I want to see you."

With a small smirk, you reached down and freed yourself from the confines of your clothing. It sprang out, long and hard, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. Hyun-Ju's tongue darted out, wetting her suddenly dry lips as she took in the sight.

You wrapped a hand around your length, stroking it slowly as you positioned yourself at her entrance. She could feel the heat of you, the weight of you, poised to claim her once more.

"I'll go slow," you promised, voice rough with desire. "Let me know if it's too much."

Hyun-Ju nodded, a breathless "okay" slipping past her lips. She trusted you, more than she had ever trusted anyone. She knew you would take care of her, would make this good for her.

With a deep breath, you began to push forward, the head breaching her entrance. Hyun-Ju gasped, back arching slightly as she felt the stretch, the unfamiliar pressure. It was intense, almost too much, but not painful. Just new.

You paused, letting her adjust, as you slowly sank deeper inside her. Centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch, until you were fully sheathed inside her tight heat. Hyun-Ju's eyes widened, a low moan falling from her lips as she felt so utterly full, so completely claimed.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," you groaned, hips still pressed flush against hers. "So tight and perfect."

She could only whimper in response, walls fluttering around your cock, trying to adjust to the intrusion. It was a strange sensation, but not an unwelcome one. She took a shuddering breath, trying to relax her body, to let you sink even deeper inside her. She could feel every ridge, every vein, every pulsing throb of your dick as it stretched her open.

"You feel so big inside me," she gasped out, voice trembling slightly. "you're reaching so..so deep.."

You smirked at that, giving a shallow thrust of your hips, burying yourself even further into her hot, slick depths. "Is it too big, Hyun-Ju? Too much?"

She shook her head quickly, fingers digging into your shoulders. "No, no, it's perfect. You're perfect."

Emboldened by her words, you began to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip remained before plunging back in. You set a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too hard, letting her feel every inch of you as you claimed her body.

Hyun-Ju matched your rhythm, hips rolling up to meet yours. She was still getting used to the sensation, to the feeling of you deep inside her, but it was quickly becoming addictive. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure racing through her nerves, stoking the fire in her belly.

Your mouth found hers in a hungry kiss, tongue delving past her lips to taste her deeply. You consumed her moans, swallowed her cries of pleasure as you continued to move inside her. One hand slid down to circle her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in time with your thrusts.

The dual stimulation was almost too much, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel the coil of tension in her core winding tighter and tighter, the pleasure cresting like a wave poised to break.

"I'm getting close," she gasped against your lips, walls beginning to flutter around your pistoning length. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Hyun-Ju's body trembled as the pleasure mounted, each deep stroke of your cock pushing her closer to the brink.

"Doll, you feel amazing," you groaned, your thrusts becoming more urgent, more insistent. "So pretty.."

She could only moan in response, nails raking down your back and leaving angry red marks as she clung to you. Every muscle in her body was pulled taut, every nerve ending alight with sensation. The world narrowed down to the point where you were joined, the slide of your penis in and out of her dripping sex.

"Yes, fuck, don't stop!" she gasped out, words punctuated by desperate, needy cries. "I'm so close, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

Her second orgasm hit her and it hit her hard, making her back arch sharply off the bed. Her pussy clamped down around your cock, gripping you rhythmically as waves of ecstasy crashed over her. In the midst of her climax, she felt you swell even harder inside her, your thrusts becoming erratic, urgent. With a groan, you buried yourself to the hilt inside her spasming body and let go.

Hyun-Ju could feel you pulsing, could feel the hot spurts of your cum painting her insides. The sensation prolongued her own orgasm, each pulse pushing her to new heights of bliss.

Finally, as the last aftershocks faded, you collapsed against her, both of you slick with sweat and panting for breath. Hyun-Ju wrapped her arms around you, holding you close as she savored the afterglow.

"That was... incredible," you murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. "You did so well, my love."

She smiled softly, a sense of pride and contentment warming her from the inside out. "Yeah? you too, thank you."

Hyun-Ju and you lay entwined, basking in the afterglow of your passionate lovemaking. The room was filled with the soft sounds of your mingled breaths slowly returning to normal, the occasional contented sigh escaping your lips.

As the minutes ticked by, you could feel yourself softening inside her, the initial tight fit loosening slightly. Hyun-Ju made no move to dislodge you, seeming content to stay connected, to feel you deep within her.

You lifted your head to look at her, taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the dreamy, sated look in her eyes. She was a vision of pure, unadulterated bliss, and the knowledge that you were the one who had brought her to such heights of pleasure filled you with a deep sense of satisfaction.

"Thank you," Hyun-Ju murmured, voice low and soft, almost reverent. "That was... thank you for making this so special for me."

You brushed a strand of sweat-damp hair from her forehead, cupping her face in your palm. "No, sweet thing, thank YOU. You trusted me, opened yourself up to me, and let yourself feel everything. That took incredible courage and vulnerability."

She leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. As you both lay there, wrapped up in each other, the city outside continued its endless march of time. But in that moment, nothing else mattered. There was only the two of you, lost in the haze of intimacy and connection.

Finally, with a soft groan, you carefully pulled out of Hyun-Ju, your cock slipping from her body with a gush of combined fluids. She shivered slightly at the sudden emptiness, automatically clenching her thighs together.

You rolled to the side, pulling her with you so that she was curled up against your chest, her head pillowed on your shoulder. Your arms wrapped around her, holding her close, keeping her safe and warm.

"Rest now," you murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You've earned it."

Hyun-Ju nodded, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Together.." she whispered, snuggling closer, her eyes drifting shut slowly.

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee

fluffy Joel drabble to help clear my head. I was a barista for 8+ years and loved my regulars, so this is like a little slice of my life when I worked for a family owned coffee shop in the downtown of a city. Hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a ptII cause im thinking hot car sex w these two after their first date.

Inspired by that tlou (game) scene where Ellie asks if Joel used to go to coffee shops, and he admits, ‘All the time.’ And when she asks what he would order, he says, ‘Coffee, just coffee’ 

Vanilla latte, iced—extra pump of vanilla, three pumps of caramel, swirl, whipped cream. Chai latte, soy milk—hot, extra hot. Cold brew with sweet cream, shot of peppermint. London Fog—extra foamy, not too hot.

"Coffee. Just coffee."

You could’ve kissed him right then and there. And he was handsome enough that you wouldn’t even have to close your eyes. He must’ve caught the way your shoulders relaxed, how the sigh left your body like a weight lifted.

“Comin’ right up,” you smiled, ringing him up as he slid a few ones into your very, very empty tip jar.

‘Just Coffee’ guy settled at the small bar along the window, joining the usual morning stragglers—people who took their time with their warm mugs, occasionally ordering a bagel or a scone to go with it. He sat next to your crossword regular, an older gentleman who always had a puzzle in front of him, filling in the blanks with unwavering confidence. Always pen, never pencil.

You left them to it, but your eyes drifted toward ‘Just Coffee’ now and then, making sure his mug wasn’t too low, wasn’t getting too cold.

The morning flew by in a blur of orders and chatter, the shop filling and emptying in waves. By the time you checked back on ‘Just Coffee’ guy, he was gone.

A pang of disappointment sat low in your stomach. You wished you would’ve gotten him talking—he had that air about him, the kind of presence that carried stories. The people who sat at your bar top, the ones who weren’t rushing in and out for their nine-to-five caffeine fix, were always the most interesting.

You were surprised to see him the next day. A smile lifted at his lips as he stepped up in line, cash at the ready in his large, dirt-greased hands. A man who worked manual labor, clearly.

"Coffee," he said, his twang deep and velvety. "Just coffee, miss."

"You got it," you said with a smile, handing him a warm mug of your house roast as he took his new usual seat at the bar.

"Dammit—" the man next to him muttered, scratching his chin with the tip of his pen. Steve, your crossword regular. Under his nose, the day’s puzzle sat partially filled in, his brow furrowed in frustration. “What in the hell is the ‘process of leveling or smoothing wet concrete’? Seven letters?" He called your name, exasperated. "You got any idea?”

"Steve, if I knew anything about construction, I’d be way further along on my home improvement projects," you called over the hiss of the milk frother.

"Screedin’ is the word you’re lookin’ for, I think."

‘Just Coffee’ spoke casually, like it was second nature, his voice rolling low behind the lip of his mug. Steve blinked at him, like he hadn’t even realized the man was there, his wide eyes darting between him and the crossword.

"I think that might just work! How do ya spell that now? S-C-R-E—"

"S-C-R-E-E-D-I-N-G," ‘Just Coffee’ said slowly, the drawl thick and steady as the letters tumbled off his tongue.

You smiled to yourself, glancing his way. Knew he had to be manual labor. But before you could turn and ask him about it, he was already stepping off the stool, giving a quick nod of thanks, and heading for the door.

A couple of ones landed next to his empty mug—more than the cost of his coffee.

He didn’t come the next day.

Or the day after that.

By the fourth morning, you caught yourself lingering by the bar, staring at the empty stool where he sat. The coffee shop was just as busy, orders coming in waves, regulars dropping their change into the tip jar, Steve grumbling over his crossword. But something was missing.

You’d gotten used to those hazel eyes meeting yours across the counter, the quiet weight of his presence. The way his dark, unruly hair framed his face, always a little windswept, a little messy, like he’d rolled straight out of bed and into a long shift. His hands—rough, calloused, dirt still lingering in the creases—wrapped steady around a warm coffee mug.

It had only been a handful of mornings, but somehow, he’d settled into your routine like he belonged there.

And now, the absence of him gnawed at you in a way that surprised you.

You should’ve asked him his damn name.

By the sixth day, you convinced yourself it didn’t matter. He was just another customer, just a passing figure who needed a caffeine fix before moving on. Maybe he found a different coffee spot. Maybe he’d never been the type to stick around anyway.

But on the seventh morning, as you wiped down the counter, movement by the door caught your eye.

You turned, heart kicking up against your ribs.

There he was.

Another worn flannel, same dirt-streaked hands, same heavy-lidded gaze scanning the shop like he hadn’t been gone for a week. And when those hazel eyes finally landed on you, a flicker of something warm and familiar crossed his face.

You pushed off the counter before you could stop yourself.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” you said, trying to sound casual, but you knew he could hear the lilt of amusement in your voice.

“How are ya, miss?” he drawled, stepping up to the counter, cash already in hand. “Been busy.”

You nodded, trying not to stare too long at the way his fingers curled around the worn bills. “Let me guess—coffee, just coffee?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You got it.”

As you poured, you finally asked the question that had been itching at you since the first day he walked in.

“You got a name, or am I just supposed to keep callin’ you ‘Just Coffee’ forever?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as he watched you.

“Joel,” he said.

You smiled, setting his mug down in front of him. “Well, Joel—hope you don’t disappear on me again.”

His fingers brushed the warm ceramic as he settled onto his usual stool. “Jobs come and go, just depends on the day, hunny.”

Hunny. It was damn near like honey dripping from his tongue in that slow drawl, thick and warm. The way it rolled off his lips curled low in your belly, heating your cheeks as you turned to the next customer, hoping to God he didn’t notice.

The middle of the week was always slow, which worked in your favor today. By the time the morning rush faded, you found yourself wiping down the counters, clearing dishes near the bar, and finally getting the chance to ask Joel about his life.

You rinsed out a mug, letting the warm water run over your fingers as you glanced toward him. He was nursing his coffee slow, one hand wrapped around the mug, the other resting loose on the bar. His posture was easy, relaxed, but you could tell there was something there, something deep in his bones that he carried.

"So, what kinda jobs come and go?" you asked, keeping your tone light.

Joel glanced up from his mug, considering you for a moment. “Construction, mostly," he said, rolling his shoulders like the very word made them ache. "Been a contractor for years—fixin' up places, layin’ concrete, buildin’ what needs buildin'.”

Figures. Those arms—strong, steady—the kind that looked like they knew the weight of real work. His hands were large, rough and calloused, the kind you’d feel long after they touched you. But, Joel was a customer. You weren’t thinking that, of course not.

"Guess that explains why you knew the crossword answer last week," you teased, tossing the rag over your shoulder. "Steve still talks about it like you pulled magic outta thin air."

Joel huffed, shaking his head. "Man’s usin’ a pen for a crossword, and I’m the one impressin’ him?"

You grinned, leaning against the bar. "Hey, knowledge is power around here, Joel."

He let out a quiet hmm and took another sip of his coffee.

Before you could press further, the bell above the door jingled, and you got up hastily to take the newcomer’s order.

“Don’t worry about him,” Joel called over, sitting up straighter, setting down his coffee mug as his gaze flicked toward the man.

He stepped inside, his dark hair long, face clean-shaven, dimples deepening as he took in the scene. Something unspoken passed between the two of them—something that made it hard to tell if they were coworkers, friends, or something else entirely.

Then the man clapped Joel on the shoulder, grinning wide, “So this is what you’ve been ditchin’ the mornin’ crew for, huh, big brother?”

Your brows lifted. Brother.

Joel exhaled hard through his nose, eyes narrowing with obvious irritation, but his posture remained loose—like he was used to this, used to him.

“What ya got for me, Tommy?” he asked.

You barely had a second to process before Tommy’s attention shifted to you. His gaze swept over you, warm and playful, before he leaned a little too comfortably against the bar, ignoring his brother.

“Well now,” he drawled, flashing you a grin that could probably talk its way out of a speeding ticket, “if I knew this was the kinda place Joel was sneakin’ off to, I would’ve tagged along a whole lot sooner.”

Joel muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead.

You crossed your arms, biting back a smile. “And here I thought he just liked my coffee.”

Tommy let out a low chuckle, tilting his head. “Can’t say I blame him, darlin’.”

Joel let out a long, long sigh, already done with whatever this was turning into. He stood, tugging his jacket over his broad shoulders before clapping a firm hand on Tommy’s back—firm like a warning.

“C’mon,” Joel muttered, steering him toward the door.

Tommy let himself be dragged, but not without a final wink in your direction. “I’ll be seein’ you around, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips as Joel shoved him out the door with far more force than necessary, the bell jingling wildly as they disappeared outside.

Joel glanced back once, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the last two minutes of his life before heading off into the distance.

You just smiled, shrugging as you wiped down the counter.

But things changed after that morning.

Tommy only needed to step through the damn door before Joel was tensing at the bar, a muscle twitching in his jaw, his coffee suddenly the least interesting thing in the room. He continued to show up every morning, still ordered just coffee, still sat in his usual spot—but now, his eyes lingered on you more.

And now, he stayed just a little longer.

Not by much, not enough for anyone else to notice, but you did.

You noticed how his gaze flicked toward you between sips, how his fingers tapped idly against his mug whenever you laughed at something a customer said.

His brother joined him more too. You noticed the way he cut Tommy off real quick anytime his brother got a little too comfortable leaning against the counter, that exasperated “Tommy” carrying a warning underneath it.

And you noticed how his tips got just a little bigger after that morning, a couple extra bills tucked under his mug like an unspoken thank you.

So when a week passed—no sign of Tommy this time, no interruptions, just Joel sitting at your bar—you wondered if today might be different.

And it was.

Because today, as you cleared a dish from the counter, Joel cleared his throat. Not the casual kind, not the I’m just readjusting in my seat kind.

The nervous kind.

You glanced up, brows lifting. “What’s eatin’ ya, Joel?”

Joel exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat. “Yeah. Just—uh.” He scratched at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “You, uh… ever eat anywhere that ain’t this place?”

Your lips twitched. “You askin’ if I leave my own coffee shop, Joel?”

His jaw tightened, clearly close to regretting whatever he was doing, but he powered through.

“I’m askin’ if you’d wanna get somethin’ to eat. When your shift is done.” He finally met your gaze, voice a little gruffer than usual, but there was something hesitant in his expression—like he was braced for you to shut him down, “With me.”

You leaned back against the counter, arms crossing as you took your time, letting him sit in it for a second. Watching the way his fingers curled around his coffee mug, how he resisted the urge to shift under your gaze.

Then you smiled. “Are you asking me out?”

His eyes flicked away, like he really hated how direct you were, but you could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Then, after a pause—“That…a problem?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

Joel’s fingers flexed against his mug. “Good.”

You grabbed a napkin and a pen, scribbling something before sliding it across the counter. “Then you’re gonna need my number.”

He eyed it, then you, something unreadable in his gaze before he finally, finally reached for it. His fingers brushed yours as he folded the napkin, tucking it into his pocket without another word.But you swore—swore—you saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took another slow sip of his coffee.

[adumbratrapedme]

Atsumu Miya x reader | teen pregnancy. pt 1 the news.

Synopsis. a teen pregnancy storie between atsumu and reader.

wc. | genre. angst to fluff |cw/tags. angst, teen pregnancy mentions, fluff, etc.

teen pregnancy series masterlists here!

╭⋅ So, this happens on your third year at higschool, you guys dated since your first and at first it was good, but... im a sucker for "fuckboy!atsumu" allegations and agst so...

╭⋅ Atsumu definitely has that charming, cocky persona, and he’s known to flirt with anyone who catches his eye. But when he’s with the you, he can be surprisingly soft and genuinely sweet. Still, it’s a struggle for him to drop the “playboy” act completely, which causes a lot of tension in u guys relationship.

╭⋅ You guys always break up- and come back- break up- and come back-

╭⋅ Despite breaking up (thing he regrets everytime) he hates seeing you with someone else and can’t stand the thought of u moving on.

╭⋅ The pregnancy news hits him harder than he admits, and he starts questioning whether he’s ready to be a father and whether he deserves the chance to make things right with you-

╭⋅ DEFINITELY struggles with the idea of being a father, especially because he’s used to living a carefree life. He’s not sure he’s capable of stepping up, but as the pregnancy progresses, he realizes he might have to.

╭⋅ Before he fully realizes the gravity of the situation, Atsumu might initially avoid facing the pregnancy news because he’s scared of what it means for his future. He doesn’t know how to balance his carefree attitude with the responsibility that comes with having a child. It’s a huge step for him to admit he’s not ready, but once the reality sets in, he’ll struggle to find his place in the reader’s life again.

╭⋅ And in case you are curious this takes place in the same "universe" as osamu's teen pregnancy storie mwhaheheh

It’s been two months since you and Atsumu broke up—again. The same cycle, the same arguments, the same bullshit promises since you were in your 1st year. He’d swear he’d change, swear he was done flirting with other girls, done making you feel like you were just another option. And maybe he meant it in the moment, but he never followed through. So, you ended things.

But, of course, Atsumu never really left you alone.

Even now, as you sit in the classroom with a classmate, laughing at something dumb he said, you can feel Atsumu’s eyes on you. He’s standing by the doorway, pretending to talk to one of his teammates, but you know he’s watching.

Your classmate nudges you. “Miya’s glaring at me.”

You sigh. “Let him.”

Truthfully, you have much bigger problems than Atsumu’s jealousy. Like the positive pregnancy test sitting at the bottom of your school bag, wrapped in tissues and regret.

You haven’t told anyone. Haven’t even figured out how to process it yourself. But the weight of it is suffocating, pressing against your ribs, making every interaction with Atsumu feel ten times heavier.

When the bell rings, you head out quickly, but you barely make it a few steps down the hall before a familiar hand grabs your wrist.

“You’ve been avoidin’ me,” Atsumu mutters, his grip firm but not tight. There’s that usual cocky smirk on his lips, but his eyes flicker with something else.

“I don’t owe you anything,” you reply, pulling away.

His jaw clenches. “Who’s that guy?”

You blink. “What?”

“The guy you were sittin’ with,” he says, voice dropping. “You datin’ ‘im?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “Oh my god, Atsumu, are you serious? You’ve spent the last two months acting like I don’t exist, and now you’re mad because I sat with someone else?”

“I never acted like ya didn’t exist.” His voice is quieter now, rough around the edges. “Yer the one who walked away.”

You exhale slowly, gripping the strap of your bag. This is pointless. He’s always like this—possessive when it suits him, distant when it doesn’t.

You should just walk away. But the words are already clawing their way out of your throat.

“I’m pregnant.”

The hallway noise fades. Atsumu just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Like his brain is still buffering, trying to process what you just said. Finally, he breathes out a short, shaky laugh. “What?”

You hold his gaze, refusing to repeat yourself. His smirk wavers, and then, for the first time in all the years you’ve known him, Atsumu looks genuinely lost.

You don’t wait for him to process it. You turn, your feet carrying you down the hallway, away from him, away from everything. Your heart is pounding, each step feeling heavier, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop. Atsumu doesn’t say anything more. Not that you’d expect him to. He’s still standing there, frozen, his mind racing, but no words come out.

As you step outside, the cool air hits your face, and you breathe it in, trying to steady yourself. You have a plan. Sort of. You’ll figure this out, somehow. You always do.

But then, you hear his voice again.

“Wait.”

It’s soft, hesitant—definitely not the usual Atsumu, not the cocky asshole he always is.

You don’t stop.

“Hey,” he calls, louder now, more desperate, his tone slipping into something unfamiliar.

This time, you force yourself to pause but don’t turn around.

Atsumu’s footsteps echo behind you, and he catches up quickly, standing a few feet away. You still don’t look at him. You don’t want to.

“I—” He hesitates, and you hear him swallow. “Is it mine?” You freeze, your blood running cold for a split second, before everything inside you snaps. You turn around sharply, fury building up in your chest.

“Of course it’s fucking yours, Atsumu,” you snap, your voice cutting through the air. “Unlike you, I don’t go sleeping around with people after I end a relationship.” (I have a question guys, english people, is it “unlike you” or “like you”. ?? Confused at 100% hope is understandable tho)

His face goes pale. He opens his mouth to say something but falters, clearly not knowing how to respond to that. You can see the guilt in his eyes, the regret, but you’re too far gone to care.

“You think I’d come to you with this if there was any doubt?” Your voice shakes, but you keep your gaze steady. “I’m not some fucking idiot who plays games like you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long while. He just stands there, staring at you as if you’ve slapped him across the face. And maybe, in some ways, you have.

Finally, he takes a step forward, his voice quieter now, as if he’s trying to find his footing. “I’m sorry.”

But you don’t want his apology. Not this time.

“I don’t need your apology,” you reply coldly, turning to walk away. “I need you to stop pretending you care when you don’t.”

Atsumu doesn’t follow you. Not this time. You hear him stand still, the silence heavy between you two, and for the first time, you don’t feel the slightest urge to look back.

Taglist:

@chilichopsticks @dreadnoughtus101 @starykari @staygoldsquatchling02 @alpha-mommy69 @curlyhairkk @b1xi @reuka1

if you want to be part of the taglist you can always DM me or coment! also if u only want to be tagged on specific characters.

-if i forgor someone pls tell me and dont be shy, i get really lost with the taglist thingy ahhh

I HATE THE TWINS SO BAD (jk i love them) i always get confused on who is who, who is pee pee head whois poo poo hair anyways huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh sprry for late update, im doing a few other stuff lately but i. uh. i deeply apolgzhe!!

[jackalope-patronus]

Wait but ur my new fav writer and I just thought of another one. Y’know in the game when there’s the option to do crucio on seb or yourself? I’d love a fic like that but where seb has a better reaction and just holds us and comforts us and ominis is lowkey third wheeling but also being comforting. Sorry I’m literally in love with Sebastian. Just something where he shushes us and kisses our head or something. I feel like the game (and movies) the cruciatus curse was very underwhelming, compared to how it was described. It’s used to torture and can make the victims go insane, it is so excruciating. It can even make people forget where they are.

Im so sorry. Tell me if im being overbearing. Thank you so much

summary :: You find yourself in an all too familiar situation, with Sebastian’s wand pointed your way and the words “Crucio.” Coming from his mouth.

warning :: torture, crucio, trauma!

note :: you’re not being overbearing at all! I really enjoy interacting with you and your ideas. A few different writers have created their own version of this scenario so I’ve done a little spin to make it just a tad bit more original.

“Anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is dangerous.”

You remember Ominis saying that some years ago, although you think you’ve misremembered a word or two from his original warning. The scriptorium was years ago. Sebastian, Ominis and you had long since graduated and settled down.

You and Sebastian had even married.

Although your school days felt distant your body seemed to remember because it was shivering at the sight of Sebastian holding his wand towards you.

“Cast it on me.” You’d said. And at first he said no, absolutely not. He would never cast such a cruel curse on his wife! The anger recollected in Ominis’s eyes spoke the words you already have.

That’s why you told him it was okay, and that it was nothing you hadn’t handled before. Opening a chamber kept by Salazar Slytherin by casting crucio, all three of you had been there! It was almost nostalgic. Almost.

“I can’t. You must cast it on me.” Sebastian’s grip on his wand faltered.

“No, Sebastian. You know I won’t.” You shook your head gently.

“Ominis—”

“Don’t you dare ask me, you know I would never.” Ominis had found a corner of the darkly lit tunnel to retreat to.

“You have to mean it. I’m not sure I’ll be able to— not again. You’re my wife.” Sebastian sputtered.

“Please Sebastian, don’t drag it out. I’d rather not stay trapped in this place much longer.” You tried to smile softly, but you knew it was no use. Your husband knows you, he can see past every fake smile.

He didn't utter a word but instead his face grew graver and he observed you carefully. You know his thoughts, you can practically hear them. Is she too frail for this? She’s handled it before, but what if it’s somehow different this time? Will there be a lasting effect? His eyes darted quickly to your tummy, but you placed a hand over your stomach to sheild yourself from his thoughts. What if she’s pregnant? It’s intrusive at best, you both know you’re not pregnant. You began to feel your stomach churn sickly in anticipation so you hardened your face. Sebastian got the signal and regained a strong grip on his wand.

You remembered seeing his knuckles blanch, before he cast the curse.

“Crucio!”

It’s familiar, a pain you recall from nightmares. One your brain liked to remind you of on sleepless nights whilst Sebastian laid beside you. You don’t blame him for it, you were children. Would you have blamed him for it now? Blame him for relenting and casting this torture on you, his wife? But you couldn’t bear him feeling it, feel the charring of nerves and the agony of retracting muscles. He doesn’t deserve it. Nobody does, but especially not him. You love him too much to think otherwise.

By the time the magic relented, you’ve regressed into a fetal lay on the floor, with twitches of remaining aches and quiet, voiceless cries coming from you.

You’re quickly scooped up into Sebastian’s warmth.

“The book Sebastian… you’ve got to get the book.” Your eyes are foggy, but you can recall only that you need to help Sebastian get a spell book to cure Ann.

However, you weren’t inside the scriptorium hidden in the walls of Hogwarts and you weren’t looking for Slytherin’s spellbook. Sebastian gazed at Ominis with a fraught face. The blonde only clutched his wand and turned his head away miserably.

“For Ann, For Ann,” you murmur.

“It’s alright. We found the book, my darling.” Sebastian’s voice was hoarse with emotion and he brought your head to his lips, uttering another reassurance before kissing your temple. He had hardly noticed the path to your exit had finally opened, he didn’t much care for anything other than your abused body.

Another incoherent mutter came from you, although the tight embrace of Sebastian’s arms matured you to reality, but a woozy reality.

“She's barely lucid. We must get her to a healer.” Ominis’ voice came as a strong command, but it barely moved Sebastian from holding you on the cold, stone floor.

You uttered something again and Ominis couldn’t be sure what it was, but Sebastian knew it was filled with sorry and regret. Whatever lingered in your mind, whether memory or illusion, made you small and weak. The complete opposite of how Sebastian knew you.

Warm lips still at your temple, Sebastian hushed you calmly, although the lump in his throat threatened to ruin him. “Ann is well. You are well.” He whispered. Both lies. His hand began to pat down your hair, removing stray strands from your face.

“Sebastian,” Ominis barked and this time, he listened.

His arms around you tightened and you were lifted further into him and away from the floor that made you shiver. “What should we do?” He pleaded.

You could now see a blurry Ominis lean over you. “Put her to sleep, give her mind a rest from the pain for a moment.”

The last thing you could hear was Sebastian muttering the sleep charm whilst both of your dearest friends looked upon you with misery. Then a peaceful rest finally found you.

[luna-loveboop]

I find it funny that Wild, who has basically a couple years ish of full life experience, comes up with the most insane theories for everything

He assumed that the only other explanation to Four being able to split in Four was. That he was quadruplets who'd been hiding this whole time???

Also apparently he believed that his wolf companion Twilight in botw was a diety (and felt very uhh shocked upon finding out that he was not)

Malon made things worse, telling him about her aliens theory

What's even FUNNIER is that every time Wild expresses any sort of confusion at magic stuff that he's never seen before, everyone else in the chain acts like it's crazy for him to be weirded out by it

Honestly maybe Wild's the only one with his head on straight, rather than everyone else who are just like 'it's magic bro' like no he's right this is weird

I appreciate this because it's very considerate of the fact that he woke up with no memories not too long ago, so he doesn't have much experience to explain the stuff that's 'normal' for the chain. Plus the explanations he comes up with are funny.

:)

.

Art and comic and adorable character by Jojo @linkeduniverse au :D

[ch1zzie]

The original in the bottom

Plus the picture I mainly drew but decided to draw the rest for funny

[wickmitz]

SEDGEWICK SABLE & MITZI MAY : an overall study, part two . part one .

discussing their individual characters, their relationship, their respective scenes, and a plethora of details found in-between.

now that we’re here at the second part of this analysis, we’ve finally reached wick once again in the narrative! in grindstone there are a few things to note, like wick’s haggard state, tired from the events of last night and curing his hangover with more giggle water -- working away on finances he needs to present to the investors before the start of the week. lacy is also there at his house, slaving away on a variety of things we hear more about in sneakthief. it’s noted today is potentially one of her days off, but the workload is potentially a little behind and big enough that she’s decided to lend an extra pair of hands even when she shouldn’t have to. they are busy at work in grindstone, hence the title! there is hardly any time for extra activities that don’t involve wick chained to his desk and slaving away, with him already in poor working condition ; he claims he can’t see a thing he’s writing despite having his reading glasses on, and not only disrupts his time but lacy’s in an attempt to ‘find’ them. he’s very much out of it and whatever work he’s doing will probably need some revisions at best, yet wick’s job is put on hold again when lacy asks if he’s expecting company, a comment which spurs him into hurriedly changing and telling her to stall mitzi at the door. again, we have wick confirming that him and mitzi indeed made ‘last minute plans’ to meet up today, even though he and lacy acknowledge that he has no real time for this. despite that, wick greets her warmly after he’s dressed, also adorned with a fond smile while hovering a hand over the small of her back when ushering her into the foyer so he may fetch the car for their outing. nothing seems too amiss here, though things begin changing come balderdash, where wick noticeably begins crumbling as a character for the first time.

to start off, i think people are rather generous with wick’s character overall. his flaws are limited to readers, to where the most common ‘bad’ traits talked about when referring to his character is : alcoholic ( not a trait ), hypocrite ( accurate! ), and he’s too kind or oblivious. while the latter two can still be something the character can have too much of or lead to genuinely bad traits, this is still an extremely small inspection overall, one that almost shies away from a harsher read. this can be attributed to how little we see of wick, but there are things we can infer via his scenes with mitzi as well as church’s words all the way back in caveat … words which come into play here. during the comic page balderdash, rocky is desperately trying to ward off wick from his beloved miss m, getting rather physical in the meantime -- he’s still seething after the events of last night and in his attempts to thwart wick from helping mitzi further, he decides to lean into the public shared narrative that this widow is dangerous and got her husband killed. we see how strong wick’s faith in mitzi is during this page ever so briefly, looking almost amused at rocky’s words while maintaining an aura of confidence when dismissing these rumors. he says, “i’ve known her a while, rocky. whether out of class or kindness, she wouldn’t harm a fly.” what wick clearly hasn’t considered, however, is what rocky implies next, which is the idea that wick’s paramour could’ve hired someone else to do the dirty work for her … an idea that very quickly disturbs him and shakes his view on mitzi and, perhaps, the lackadaisy, even when he tries verbally dismissing all this as a joke.

despite his dismissal, it’s rather obvious that rocky’s words stay with wick. throughout the date, wick is stuck in a state of doubting things that he’s never entertained before, with no way of discerning what’s appropriate to fret about and what’s not, and this is in no small part because of the verbiage rocky was using. wick thinks he’s doubting mitzi, that he potentially doesn’t know her as well as he thought or that he has a reason to be afraid of her, due to rocky’s claim that she’s dangerous and his insistence on throwing the carnage and consequences of rumrunning onto mitzi as a person. however, his true feelings are rather far from that. while it’s true that wick is riddled with doubt after rocky’s attempt at driving him and mitzi apart, i find it prudent to clarify here that his love for mitzi outweighs those doubts in large measure. wick’s sudden and unfounded fear doesn’t drive him to isolate himself from mitzi, and thus some part of him does still believe that she isn’t a cruel person and that she wouldn’t try to harm him. there’s no reason why he would think otherwise apart from rocky’s unsettling and instigating threats. wick’s fears are both similar and dissimilar to the ones zib voices in blood-money. while zib is worried about the corrupting influence of the life mitzi is leading, wick is more so afraid of the life itself. wick still views mitzi as every bit the charming, funny, and impeccably elegant woman he fell for, but he is now forced to wonder if he would ever be harmed because of her presence in his life. in essence, rather than questioning mitzi as a person, he is worried about the danger inherent in the life she leads and how that danger might directly impact him. unfortunately, though wick seems to at least subconsciously trust mitzi, his doubts stick around like intrusive thoughts, presenting a constant what-if that wick can’t shake, and it’s these very thoughts that continue to make the business-meeting-turned-date as awkward as it is.

now, it’s rather interesting how much the notion of mitzi hiring rocky to kill her husband shakes wick up due to how normal this sort of method is within gangster lifestyles ; with us even seeing atlas absent or abstaining from mordecai and viktor’s violent work ethic, his hands physically clean despite how its his order causing all this destruction and death. asa does the same! they have workers for a reason, ‘faithful operatives’ as rocky so lovingly calls them, and these men are utilized with complete efficiency. it’s not insane to think that mitzi hired another to kill atlas, and besides rocky’s bumbling incompetence, it’s not strange to consider him a likely man for such a job due to his utmost loyalty to miss m over anyone else, including atlas. yet wick acts as though this hasn’t ever crossed his mind, wholeheartedly believing that mitzi would have to kill atlas herself in order to get the job done, something he’s sure she doesn’t have the heart nor the guts to do. he is visibly shaken the rest of the date, one more distraction piled on his plate high, so suddenly paranoid through the haze of perpetual tiredness that he even snaps at mitzi over something as simple as the word bunny. for the first time, i believe wick is thoroughly beginning to question his part in all of this and is starting to reexamine these once harmless aspects now that the inherent danger has been shoved in his face so earnestly. while a part of this is naivety ( he’s far away from the criminal underbelly after all, as rich and comfortable as he is, a lackadaisy patron and nothing more ) i’d also point out that another aspect of it is a sense of subconscious invincibility. perhaps he is too content in his status and wealth and how well he’s been doing to even consider he’s hardly exempt from consequences, much less the side effects of hanging around criminals or dangerous establishments.

it seems rather strange and far-fetched of a claim, but think of church’s warning to him back at the start of the comic ; “you’ve done well lately … but don’t imagine it means you and your reputation are invincible.” it’s easy to dismiss church’s words due to how mean he often is, how overly critical, but he arguably knows wick better than the readers do, so i think it’s pertinent to take his words and to consider them. he’s also not wrong. everything church says in caveat is the god’s honest truth and wick, to some degree, knows this! it’s why he’ll practically regurgitate church’s advice in mephistopheles when rejecting mitzi and explaining why he must reject her proposal. so then why wouldn’t church’s read on wick be somewhat accurate as well? i think wick’s biggest flaw is that he’s too easily caught up in emotional throes while also struggling to think of every tiny detail, an issue that may or may not have to do with how excessive exposure to alcohol has affected his short term memory. he doesn’t bat an eye at the ruffians or violent gangsters who hang around the lackadaisy because they aren’t currently threatening wick himself, and he won’t dwell on it too hard that these men have to procure their hooch somehow, and that it’s said to be a bad business. if it’s not affecting wick and his enjoyment of the establishment ( or the woman he’s eyeing ) then it is not something he concerns himself with or feels the active threat of. has a simple mindset that sort of functions like : well, mitzi wouldn’t be able to kill someone with her bare hands! she’d loathe to get blood on her lavish garments, doesn’t have the coldness inside to see the life leave a man’s eyes! much less her husband’s! it’s ludicrous. imagine knowing the lady and thinking her capable of that, when she looks and acts as she does! …

again, it’s a rather closed-minded view of the whole thing. how could you not consider she has guns for hire? that the men she surrounds herself with are indeed dangerous individuals who are more than willing to watch the life leave another’s eyes for her? he sees viktor at the bar and in the pilot even appears intimidated by his stature and scarred face, yet doesn’t think twice about what a man like that is doing there on mitzi’s paycheck? even thinks it normal to take viktor to the hospital after hearing that viktor’s been shot at the lackadaisy, not at all considering that police and doctors would pry. wick is extremely privileged and short sighted here, a little full of himself and what he can get away with -- this is the very same man who actively showed interest in a man’s wife, for crying out loud, and didn’t at all consider that someone like atlas would’ve killed him had he known wick’s intentions. this is more than just being blind or oblivious. while i love wick for his kindness and loyalty, i can also admit that he’s still a capitalist at the end of the day, and a successful one at that. him getting too big for his britches and throwing himself into scenarios without considering how this will affect him is extremely likely for his character, and is exactly what he did when agreeing to meet with mitzi the first night in lackadaisy. i believe wick was too caught up in the passion and euphoria of finally getting what he wanted, and started making promises and plans he couldn’t necessarily deliver on, not thinking at all about the logistics or the next day and instead focused on some whimsical future. he loves the lackadaisy and he adores mitzi, so why not invest in it? sure, they can discuss the details tomorrow, he has time just for her … and then reality hit him like a train twice over, leaving wick scrambling around aimlessly. he knows what he has to do but doesn’t want to actually do it, which instead makes him seem completely disinterested and wishy-washy instead.

( i also want it on record that the potential of harm or danger really scares wick when he’s made aware of its presence, at least in certain scenarios. while he can brush off the pig farmers raiding the lackadaisy and viktor’s injuries, he can’t ignore rocky’s threat or its implications because this is shoved directly into wick’s face rather unsubtly. what wick gets from the lackadaisy is mitzi, it’s some strange sense of belonging, and a break from his stressful normal life -- it’s not the awful booze he’s interested in, it’s not the thrill of being in the center of danger, it’s the mindless company and vague sense of ‘i have a seat here, right here, around all these people who don’t seem forever irritated by my presence.’ it’s also the rocks but that’s less poetic. point is, wick’s horrific loneliness and ridicule from his peers is what has him drinking at the lackadaisy instead of in the wine cellar he has at home, which means him being perfectly blind to the danger the workers there face is all the more heartbreaking. he won’t ever truly be one of them until he’s actually breached their criminal lifestyle in its entirety. he may pose with them in pictures, but he’s still an outsider in title. he can’t choose them over his business because he needs and wants his business and, clearly, the lackadaisy needs that too. he can’t sacrifice his safety but he doesn’t want to sit idly by and allow mitzi and her employees to suffer because he is still a very kind man. it all exists in extremes and is what makes wick’s arc fascinating in my eyes … his character also becomes more interesting with this in mind, more human, and that’s exactly why i adore him and mitzi ( and their relationship ) as much as i do )

though here we are, finally done with the detours and event recapping to discuss the original question : what is wick’s and mitzi’s mindset during their date? we have all the tools available and any further information i may give later should be extra elaboration at this point rather than anything new. after all, in order to understand why the date went the way it did we had to understand wick and mitzi’s individual characters and what they feel towards each other, what they think they feel, as well as how their relationship has functioned so far. and with a multitude of misconceptions cleared up too, this section hopefully seems a bit more straightforward, though i suppose we’ll wait and see. now, we’ll be discussing the pages doublet, drollery, veracity, photomajig, briar-patch, and mephistopheles … plus some of the date’s aftermath much, much later!

at the start of doublet ( and carrying into drollery ) mitzi and wick are seated in a rowboat, with wick doing the rowing while she’s situated comfortably on a pillow and enjoying the view ; typical of their gender roles during that time. wick looks almost quizzical in the first panel we see of him, though some of that tenseness appears to leave his face by the time mitzi turns to look at him … only for such a look to return when she says, ‘let’s talk business, wick.’

throughout this page and the others it becomes obvious wick very much doesn’t want to discuss business with mitzi, despite that being the purpose of their little meetup at all. he’s extremely quiet when she begins rambling on about how wrong her approach had been last night, how she should’ve just sought wick out to begin with ( an interesting thing for her to say given how reluctant she was to use him initially ). there is a wave of compliments and flattery here from mitzi, an almost buttering up, and it’s worth saying that what works a genuine smile out of wick here is mitzi saying something as simple and as romantic as liking his face. it’s undoubtedly an earnest expression, still tired but softened considerably, and wick will continue to show that what he’s most receptive to are mitzi’s advances, her small flirty remarks and gestures. but once again, when she decides to come out and say what she’s trying to discuss with wick, ‘i’d like you to be my business partner’, he quickly shuts down. his expression falls and he becomes even more quiet than before, enough so to prompt mitzi ( who’s now rowing with him ) to ask if he’s lost interest overnight. all wick can muster in response is some hesitantly worded excuses, like how he’s a little tired and that this proposal is a lot to think about. i say these are excuses because i think wick knew from the start that he was going to reject mitzi’s deal, whatever it was, because now that reality has set in he’s come to understand church’s warning as pure facts. there was never a moment during the outing where wick was even thinking about mitzi’s offer, and he does everything he can to avoid discussing it because he knows his answer.

mitzi, similarly, only wishes to discuss business with wick here -- it’s what she came over for, after all, and she’s at the end of her rope after last night’s and today’s events. she needs this deal and wick’s money, to the point where she remains almost purposefully stereotypical throughout their entire outing. gone is the more genuine bond between them that we saw in rendezvous, because now every time mitzi does a romantic action ( or a sexual one ) it’s wooden and rather fake ; it’s her feeling as though there’s no other choice and being desperate enough to stoop so low if it means wick won’t reject her business. their wants and desires are complete opposites at this point, with wick wanting this to be a date and to be with mitzi while the woman in question is avoidant of any lovesick antics until she feels like she’s losing wick. there’s definitely some manipulation happening on mitzi’s end just as much as there’s some purposeful misleading on wick’s, with both of their behaviors rubbing the other party the wrong way ; wick is still on edge due to rocky’s comment and is prone to getting upset whenever mitzi so much as jokes about it, and then we have mitzi, who’s already dealt with a similar situation today with asa, someone who dragged her to an outing she didn’t ask for and then avoided the conversation she wanted to have with him. for perhaps the first time, neither wick nor mitzi are really seeing each other anymore, they’re instead doubting one another where there had once been ironclad resolve and are too blinded by their desires to have an honest conversation about any of this. add this on top of how exhausted and stressed they both are, it’s no wonder their ‘date’ was doomed from the start.

i also want it on record that mitzi is being extremely open and upfront here about what she wants from wick from the first page. she didn’t waste any time before making her intentions with him clear! this isn’t me dismissing her more manipulative behavior during the date, but she certainly doesn’t use wick to the extent some people act like she does. rather than asking him to be an investor, she tells wick she wants him to be her business partner who would get 40% of the revenue and a 40% say in her decisions regarding the lackadaisy. it doesn’t seem like much, but given how little wick actually needs this money back, it’s a rather generous offer all around, with it almost being half and half. while she’s still undoubtedly using him, there is still a level of respect here, i think, some kind of : well, if i have to use wick, let me at least make the terms as good as they can be. some fans act as though mitzi deceived wick from the start when i’ve more than proved she’s mostly been completely transparent with him outside of a few select situations, which happen to be moments where her desperation turns her impulsive and wholly selfish, as seen briefly in rendezvous and whenever she flirts with wick during their outing. an impulsive instinct that will only worsen come sneakthief, when mitzi is utterly humiliated, angry, and at the very end of her already thinned rope. to me, it’s important to understand that her reasons for her actions during this arc are understandable and, perhaps, a bit sympathetic -- but that and the fact that what she does is wrong can coexist. wick is in a similar boat, where i mostly want to present him through a neutral lens so we can understand that he’s also done some wrong himself and is hardly a perfect victim, but that these wrongdoings still don’t dismiss the fact he shouldn’t have been stolen from or had his affections used. but i’ve gotten a little ahead of myself, so let’s dive back into doublet and drollery.

doublet ends with mitzi cooing at wick in an almost teasing but fond tone, calling him a ‘poor bunny,’ a comment so unremarkable that she’s not at all anticipating wick to react rather aggressively. he’s sort of accusatory and defensive, as though bristling from the mere title alone. we quickly find out in the next page ( and from his mumbling before his outburst ) that he’s still unable to shake rocky’s threats from balderdash, to the point of internalizing the confusing metaphor he was given, which wick hardly understands but is still reactive towards. he’s tired and stressed and on top of that he’s suddenly nervous for his life, it’s little wonder why he’s so jumpy. mitzi, in turn, expresses utter confusion at his question and, when wick explains that rocky insinuated he killed atlas because she wanted him to, she begins making light of the situation … much to wick’s dismay. to her, it’s just not something to take seriously! and she repeatedly pokes fun at the mere idea, going back and forth between ‘i’m kidding!’s and ‘or am i?’s until relenting entirely, going on to tease wick for believing she’d do something so awful and for taking rocky’s words as something to be worried about. drollery is a deceptively important page, as it’s a great demonstration of how little wick and mitzi are understanding each other. it makes complete sense for mitzi to make light of the situation and to be unable to understand why wick is so afraid, considering that rocky idolizes her and therefore has never threatened her or even done so much as to appear annoyed around her. in stark contrast, wick’s emotional state here is frazzled and fraught, and he’s in desperate need of some sort of comfort. he seems to get that comfort when mitzi teases him about believing rocky, only for fear to take over once again when mitzi casually mentions, ‘rocky’s name is definitely not on my murderers-for-hire roster,’ implying that she still has one even if rocky himself isn’t on it. wick is noticeably so shocked or frightened that he stops rowing, and then there’s a brief timeskip before we see the pair again in veracity.

what i find most prudent to talk about during this page is the discussion of atlas may between the pair, with wick asking two rather wise questions ; if the talk about mitzi’s part in her husband’s death is false and, if so, why not speak up on it? her answer is rather similar both times, saying she didn’t kill atlas because she loved him, and that she doesn’t like discussing the circumstances surrounding his death due to how fresh it all still is. she begins fiddling with her necklace, a telltale sign that her late husband is on her mind, before offering something rather interesting.

as we know it, mitzi is a rather reserved and private person, and that goes tenfold for anything involving atlas post mortem, an aspect of her character that’s even referenced in this very page! so for this to even be offered, albeit hesitantly, is fascinating on many levels and can be read through two lenses. either this is a genuine offer from mitzi or a fake one in an attempt to garner wick into her corner, with the promise of a solved mystery in his pocket. both are completely valid interpretations of this scene given where mitzi’s currently at, and i won’t dismiss either one. however, i personally view her words here as an honest invitation, one she’s extremely reluctant to give but is willing to let it be out there regardless. she’s not promising that wick will get this information, it’s merely a possibility ; if such a question truly weighs on him so heavily, then perhaps she can find it in herself to someday tell him about atlas. i think mitzi is more than willing to give wick that sort of honesty in return if he decides to help her out -- which, in a way, is a blend of the two options i brought up earlier. i just don’t see why she’d bring this rather sensitive and personal wound up to wick at all unless she was serious about it, given how avoidant she usually is with this subject.

one aspect of lackadaisy that i rarely see brought up is the tangible theme of grief. mitzi is often interpreted without her grief being a factor, or her grief being a small obstacle that she simply needs to ‘get over’. this is hardly how grief works, especially not when a loss is sudden and violent, as atlas’ death unquestionably was. this is to say nothing of the horrific circumstances that followed mitzi afterwards -- while previously, she was a wealthy socialite, sheltered from harm and the particularly gruesome details of her husband’s work, she is now forced to wear shoes that are far too big and bloody for her to fill. i find it prudent to digress and harp on this a bit, as it’s hardly ever mentioned in the lackadaisy fandom that it can be incredibly difficult for a grieving person to hear the name of their lost loved one, especially when you’re someone as reluctant to share your feelings as mitzi is. hell, mordecai just hearing atlas’ name once was enough for him to flee the luncheon and squirrel himself away in mitzi’s car. and not only has atlas been brought up twice today already, he’s been used as a tool to threaten mitzi’s life. while wick could hardly know that his discussion of the rumors surrounding atlas’ death might have a serious impact on mitzi considering the context of what happened that day, he certainly belatedly realizes that his words have the very real capacity for hurting mitzi -- he just doesn’t realize how much. with this in mind, there is undoubtedly something to be said about how mitzi offers to talk to wick about atlas at all, with us being able to read into this as a testament to their previous closeness or miss may’s rising and almost animalistic desperation. wick’s response to this is rather telling too, with him immediately rejecting her offer due to mitzi not ‘owing’ him such an explanation and apologizing for bringing atlas’s death up at all, as well as expressing that he’s duly ashamed of himself for it. while this puts a damper on their outing ( and gives wick another excuse to try and avoid mitzi’s desired topic by ending things early ) there’s no denying that even when they’re on relatively strained terms, a glimmer of respect and care for each other keeps shining through. it’s either that or wick just has impeccable manners and an innate understanding that bringing up a widow’s murdered husband during what’s supposed to be a date isn’t a wise move. or, like always, it’s probably a mix of the two. this fondness and affection towards one another, as subconscious as it may be, is highlighted once again in photomajig! a page which i won’t talk about too much, but one that’s integral nonetheless.

realizing things aren’t going the way she wants them to go, mitzi spies an opportunity to prolong and ‘fix’ things when seeing a photo booth, one which she drags a curious wick to with a renewed smile upon her face. for the first three-ish photos, wick seems rather apprehensive about this situation, likely still feeling their earlier talk in its awful entirety ; only for mitzi to physically tug and pull at him in an attempt to help him loosen up, going as far as to pinch his cheeks into a poor facsimile of a smile for the camera. after this, wick gives more of an attempt during the next two pictures, mimicking mitzi’s pose both times and seeming to find himself having fun despite circumstances. there’s a noticeable shift in the photos where the two not only appear to be enjoying themselves, but are actively enjoying one another’s company. for a couple shots it’s almost like the current despairing state surrounding them disappears entirely as they silently fawn over each other and indulge in some harmless fun, with these three specific pictures being prime examples of this.

there’s no denying that wick is visibly smitten with mitzi here once he loosens up, burdened with an overwhelming attraction his face can barely hide once the date begins feeling like an actual date. mitzi’s more subtle, though there’s a lightness to her expressions that feel less forced and sad, actively engaging in ridiculous poses and naturally falling into more loving gestures without much orchestrated affections on her end. you can see what they could perhaps be like as a genuine couple if they could allow themselves such a future ; happy and silly and capturing memories to always keep … and this brief insight makes what happens at the end much more devastating, where we see mitzi ( who has, maybe, remembered herself and her goal ) throw this away to force herself onto wick again with a bruising force, attempting to take advantage of his good mood so they can talk about her business proposal again. just like that the moments are gone, as are their more honest feelings, and although wick still dodges the topic yet again ( which, as previously stated, he shouldn’t be doing given the true purpose of this outing ) he retains a more playful attitude than before. joking that he was planning on running away from mitzi until he begins looking rather smug and adoring while teasing her ‘ruthless’ strategy, and how it doesn’t leave him in an advantageous negotiating position. the page ends with them realizing they’ve cultivated an audience with their antics as wick laments he’d hate to disrupt them with business talk -- a sarcastic remark undoubtedly, but further drives my previous points home nonetheless.

now we approach the last stretch of this analysis, centering around wick’s rejection of mitzi and then briefly touching upon her stealing his money. briar-patch is an intricate dance between two exhausted parties, but this exhaustion is exactly what makes it so easy for them to fall into their normal styles of talking. the next time we see the pair, they’ve left the park and have since returned to wick’s home ; holed up in his wine cellar and enjoying some quality wine. it’s very interesting that wick has an entire underground room full of illicit beverages when he so often frequents the lackadaisy, though i digress. still sporting his improved mood, wick behaves rather coyly during most of briar-patch, rambling about the bottle of wine mitzi asks him about and implying he’s too socially awkward to properly entertain a lady … this is an obvious lie, and it’s one mitzi doesn’t hesitate to call out, but this doesn’t dampen his spirits any. once again looking smitten at the woman sitting in his lap, his tail seeming to curl slightly around her outstretched leg. it all paints a rather fond and romantic picture, in spite of its context.

just like mitzi with his earlier fabrication, wick sees through her attempts at getting him drunk until he acquiesces to her proposal, though doesn’t visually appear mad at mitzi for this. naturally, she denies the claim -- a little tipsy and not at all a good liar, instead resorting to a minor guilt trip -- ‘i’m starting to worry you’re leading me on,’ -- as another way to nudge wick into her desired direction. i’m sure wick knows what mitzi is getting at when she claims he’s leading her on, but he chooses to ignore her true meaning by saying that he couldn’t be leading her on because he’s been eyeing mitzi since she was married to atlas. and mitzi admits to knowing about his interest … making a slight remark that she’s surprised atlas didn’t have him killed for it. we see more evidence of wick’s avoidance towards the topic of murderers for hire in his very clear statement of ‘…that’s comforting. anyway’. wick goes on to immediately dismiss the very real danger he was in and confess that he ‘couldn’t help’ being attracted to mitzi. this highlights one of wick’s other flaws ; his belief that he is unable to resist his impulses and that this somehow absolves him of the consequences of his actions. he could very easily have gotten over his initial attraction to mitzi instead of constantly mooning over her and feeding his interest. he could also have thought through mitzi’s invitation and decided against sacrificing his investors and their reputations for his own gain. this flaw can be tied into his alcoholism as well, where we see that wick has poor impulse control yet again when, after just being scolded by his secretary for drinking, he then pours hooch into his coffee when her back is turned, not even waiting for her to leave the room. all of this is to say that wick has a penchant for ignoring the consequences of his impulsive decisions and struggles heavily with the awkwardness involved in taking accountability for them.

we then move onto the next page where lacy interrupts the two, asking if wick could drive her home since bix, wick’s driver, isn’t outside anymore. wick, who admits to essentially forgetting about her presence, promises he’ll be up in a second to take her home -- and it’s that scene which marks the end of the date. wick was more than content to drag this on as long as possible, having been all but relaxed and cozy earlier, in a manner of undress with mitzi ( who had taken her heels off ) and filling the air with meaningless conversation. these aren’t the actions of a man who is eager to push the lady out the door, but rather someone who enjoys this reality too much to do the right thing and end it ; to save them both the now wasted time because they both have businesses to run, and can’t afford pleasantries like dates that last hours … or, in mitzi’s case, this was never what she wanted at all with this meeting, and wick knew that deep down and purposefully withheld from addressing the topic until the end was near, and then there wasn’t much else he could do except finally come clean. his face falls and scrunches, initially turned away from his company before he begins to let her down, fidgeting by scrubbing his neck and avoiding her gaze again by looking into his wine glass. i think paying attention to wick’s body language is always important, because his tone and how he speaks is rather glib in nature.

wick is a character who doesn’t really speak emotionally with his voice ; perpetually stuck in a stuffy but charming sort of tone as seen in the pilot ( even when he’s noticeably angry at rocky’s implications of dynamite and machinery ) as well as here, where his words are so casual sounding that it’s hard not to view them as apathetic. starting his rejection with a polite but seemingly uncaring, “uh, i was saying … i’d love for this to work out … but, uh …” he sounds like he’s talking to a stranger, almost, someone who came up to him on the street with a business proposition rather than with a girl who he cares for and selfishly kept the entire evening once he could manage it. even his verbal hesitation can be viewed as indifference. he carries this normal air afterwards too, able to seem unfazed during sneakthief and chauffeur ; propped with a casualness to him and his words that make it hard to comprehend that the situation is as bad as it is. as mentioned above, wick is rather short-sighted and tends not to think through the finer points of things. he has a notable talent for dismissing schools of thought that aren’t immediately pertinent, and i’d argue that he has a penchant for self-soothing, burying his problems in fine wines and expensive toys. it’s not outside the realm of possibility that wick would immediately fall back into his glib, carefree tone, trying to soothe himself with the normalcy of bantering with lacy. it’s probably fairly easy to write wick off as never being too interested in mitzi because of this, but given the rest of his character ( along with the brief faltering we see in his expression here and there ) that’s likely not at all true. honestly, i believe he’s even less likely to consider the true consequences of what’s transpired, considering that he a.) completely dismisses lacy’s assertion that mitzi had been rifling through her things and threatening her with dismemberment, b.) is so tired he is hallucinating a duck and therefore can’t drive straight, and c.) is definitely drunk, having seemingly polished off two bottles with mitzi over the course of the date.

sedgewick sable, for all intents and purposes, is a businessman and a capitalist after all. and while he’s leagues better than his peers in terms of kindness, passion, and humbleness, there’s still no denying that he’s still a man made of money who has to spend hours of his day rubbing elbows with blue blood types. he may be an outlier, but he’s secured investors for a reason and isn’t new to the social games that are a part of that environment. can’t be, when he can act so confident and ‘better than’ when such displays are needed from him. i understand the narrative of wick being ‘socially inept’ or ‘socially awkward’, because he is to a degree, though i think some people have the habit of erasing him of any competency entirely. during quarryman, caveat, and quacksalver, wick does well when holding his own and is able to keep an almost smug look about him even when faced with ridicule or critique from his wealthy peers ; never letting their insults or boredom stick, and behaving as if he’s amused by their comments at best.

i don’t think wick truly feels unbothered by these events nor do i believe his constant pleasant tone is always genuine. there’s a case to be made here about masking : the practice of concealing or suppressing aspects of one's ( potentially ) neurodivergent traits or conditions, in order to fit in with the norms of the workplace or society. it may be a ruse, but it’s a damn good one, to the point where it’s potentially taken over how he speaks entirely. and it’d make sense given the themes surrounding wick’s character already, but i’ll just leave that there for now. what matters in the context of him rejecting mitzi and his behavior thereafter is that wick has a really bad habit of coming across as uncaring on occasion, something not only the reader could be fooled by, but mitzi as well ; in her already sensitive state, still angry and hurting from asa’s imposed lunch as well as last night’s many humiliating events. despite this, the actual wording of wick’s confession, as distant as it may seem, is rather purposeful in my eyes, because he says : “i’d love for this to work out, but, uh … not if it’s contingent on a business partnership.” here, wick makes it clear that he’s not rejecting a romantic relationship with mitzi, merely the business proposal itself. if she wanted to date him without the business part, than wick would be more than willing to indulge her -- and even during the rejection itself, he never comes across as mad or angry at her in particular, expressions-wise. just rather saddened about things, a little shameful, but he seems to hold little issue with mitzi even though he’s still uncertain of her motives.

it’s also worth noting that despite wick’s feelings for mitzi being ‘obvious’, it’s very likely mitzi has no clue what those feelings really are in nature. to her, it could be a physical interest and nothing more, and given how she acts around wick ( as in, being extremely touchy physically ) i think her views of his attraction veer towards more shallow waters than sickly sweet romance. something that adds further insult to injury here, and makes her rather aggressive reaction, where she essentially says this :

all the more understandable, and honestly a rather human reaction all around. people love to dismiss everything mitzi says as ‘manipulative’ or ‘fake’, but tracy herself has essentially called wick a hypocrite before too … so there’s more truth to her words here than fans are comfortable to admit. while cruel, there’s honesty to what she’s saying. wick is indeed, by definition, a hypocrite. he also has, undoubtedly, led her on throughout this entire date and did so on purpose. she has every reason to lash out at him here and to continue doing so afterwards, torn between being angry at him as well as desperately needing him in turn ; still throwing herself at wick in a last ditch attempt to save things, even though we know she regrets and loathes such actions. her shallow view of wick’s affections isn’t exactly helped when, in response to her still biting words, he calls her mephistopheles and draws attention to her curves. if you don’t know, mephistopheles is a demon who corrupts the souls of men, and in some interpretations is said to take on desirable and pleasing forms. while a rather mean remark ( something mitzi even points out ) wick’s lips are in a tiny smile, eyebrows raised as he stares at mitzi with lidded eyes … it reads more like a tease, an action that the two engage in often when talking to each other ( as can be seen here, and other such instances ), rather than being a scathing review of character like mitzi’s words previously.

still, despite mitzi’s tempting offer of the more sexual implication, wick holds his ground and stays true to his rejection. a rejection that was practically just church’s words to him word-for-word, might i add. the date ends here and they separate. but i’d be remiss to not even briefly discuss sneakthief and other events afterwards, since they’re rather major in nature. though i will only talk about these events briefly, since they’re an entirely other can of worms and this analysis is long enough as it is.

as we’ve thoroughly covered thus far, mitzi stealing a blank check from wick’s checkbook wasn’t her plan all along, nor was it even a malicious action on her end. it was pure desperation that drove her to steal, just like it was pure desperation that drove her to play the condescending, evil crime boss gig to lacy … a gig she’s scarily good at, and one she’ll probably utilize more in the future. and no, this doesn’t dismiss how awful these actions are, it merely explains them. mitzi is not some evil manipulative mastermind, she literally heard about the checkbook in lacy’s bag and instantly ( foolishly! ) stole it immediately thereafter, basically getting caught as well. mitzi doesn’t even seem to think about what she’s doing before she moves to do it, a side effect of her all consuming obsession and, again, her desperation. these are hardly the actions of a woman who’s thinking reasonably or with any level of coldness, even if her actions here are extremely selfish. still, there’s no excusing it, though mitzi tries to find some justifications for her actions in an obvious attempt to soothe her own mind and, perhaps, to make her actions more palpable to even herself. you see this in backalley, where she briefly touches upon her actions in a way she won’t ever do again.

she’s rationalizing it to herself, thinking wholeheartedly that she’ll pay it all back eventually, and that she isn’t intending to take this money without giving any of it back. this is rather shortsighted of her, since a.) she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to make this money back, enough so to be able to give it to wick, and b.) that’s hardly the issue here, when the real betrayal lies within the fact she’s done this to wick at all. like most things, mitzi’s clouded view isn’t allowing her to realize the extent of what she’s done … i don’t even think she’s understanding that by doing this, she has potentially lost wick as a friend forever. or if she has realized this, it hasn’t begun weighing on her yet -- which is understandable, given her fight with zib and his disappearance right after the fact, as well as her beloved necklace being broken. there are just other things on her mind besides wick sable! and that’s the tragedy, isn’t it? there’s no room for her to really evaluate her feelings about him or him at all when she’s so obsessed with the abstraction of her late husband and all he represents ; down to the pearls she wears of him and the bad reputation he kept. it’s still easy to justify things in this state, to talk in circles about how wick is too nice to be mad at her or send her to jail and how she’ll eventually pay him back, when there’s no clarity for her. mitzi knows what she’s doing is reprehensible but she doesn’t know how bad it all is yet, something tracy has, again, said about her before. the last we see of mitzi in the comic currently is her saying this, which isn’t the expression nor the words of someone who is feeling anything but awful, though has found company and comfort in it despite the pain :

and we’ve now reached the end of this analysis! i want to give an immense thank you to anyone who’s sat through and read all of this from beginning to end given its length! and i also want to say that i understand some of the things covered here are a bit vague when compared to other parts, so if anyone has further questions or wishes to discuss this further, please feel free to do so! i view this project as an overall analysis rather than one that’s extremely specific to certain topics, so because of that ( and for your sanity and mine ) there were things i was curt with on purpose. trust me when i say that there’s not one aspect of these characters or their relationship that i haven’t given immense thought to, or analyzed. similarly, to reiterate my earlier disclaimers, everything i’ve said here is said with neutral evaluation at best and with some bias at worst, a bias that pertains to both wick and mitzi. i adore them both equally and i don’t want my words here to be twisted as me saying one of them deserves ‘better’ than the other, because frankly i care very little for that argument. at the end of the day, they’re two extremely human characters : flawed and intense and existing in multiple extremes, good and bad, and that’s exactly why their relationship fascinates me. i’m not here to play the moral police on fictional characters who are actively in a morally ambiguous work, i’m here to merely observe them and hopefully give them justice in my readings of their dynamic and respective complex characters … especially since i don’t think the fandom has done a good job of that for either of them!

though this is still just my opinion and analysis of the text that’s been given to us, so to each their own. i feel like i have so much more to say or elaborate upon, but this is a nice little place to leave it for now, so again, thank you all … and thank you tracy butler for squeezing my brain for thousands of words worth of braincells that has went into studying her comic like the bible <3 and then actually writing those thoughts down like some insane person!

[mabaris]

no youre completely right - im a gay (trans)man and i legit wanna see so much more about the women bc There Is So Little. I wanna make a lesbian oc who gets bent in half by taash. im very normal.

i’m just tired man!!!! it feels so obvious how disproportionate it is when you’ve got. a cast of characters that we know almost equally little about. and a few of them explode in popularity and it’s like spongebob sticking his hand out the curtain. literally all a character needs to do numbers is to be a light-skinned man

[mamawasatesttube]

sorry i need to be a hater for a minute. tim drake: robin is a plague upon this earth because it is late 2024 and i Still can't go into kon tags without seeing that stupid fucking blond bitch. enough

[perilegs]

my sweet little baby man is no longer with us

[chiimeramanticore]

tumblr is a beautiful website bc it's the only place you can make a post and then have someone rb it, restate everything you said as if it's a new idea, ultimately agree with your post, and then still somehow accuse the original post of being ableist

[kiwibirb1]

Happy note bc I need one rn but finished my aro bracelet! Would make a lesbian one but I'm not that confident in how little my friends know about queer stuff lol.

[ecrireverie]

okay lol mini rant in the tags sorry i just HAD to get this off my chest 😭 sorry if this is very incoherent and poorly worded or structured or whatever i'm just. pretty out of it and i cannot really think to write this properly. well, that or i am probably just illiterate actually. Yeah that's it lol

[collaredkittyboy]

Workaholic update

[fleshdyk3]

god i fucking hate my dad

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

The Healthcare horrors persist

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhh