#So I hope I’ve done enough here

[hazelcuttlefish]

ffs. Fine. I keep seeing the fucking poll. Here’s an informative rant:

Aromantic people are those who do not feel romantic attraction. More specifically Aromantic can refer to an umbrella of identities which range from “feel no romantic attraction ever” to “may feel some romantic attraction (probably under particular circumstances which vary)”. The existence of aromantic people is not up for debate. They exist, and they are are part of the lgbtq+ community.

Aromantics can-

Not desire romantic relationships at all

Desire romantic relationships

get married or not

be any number of genders and sexual orientations.

generally refers to those people who identify themselves as aromantic. (See below)

experience oppression* in a amatonormative society, in which romantic relationships are often placed in higher value than others and it is assumed people will desire them and want to pursue them and will “fall in love” romantically.

…just to cover the very basics.

Aromantic people are not simply those who don’t want a relationship or just enjoy sleeping around. Romantic attraction is simply less or absent for them. Which is a simplification, when orientation of all types is often more complex and certainly is here. Regardless, if you scoff or feel uncomfortable at the idea of people who genuinely do not have romantic attraction. You are part of the reason they are oppressed. I’m not saying you are a terrible person, but that bias is part of amatonormativity. Is part of the upholding of romantic relationships above other relationships.

Now to the fucking poll. I don’t hate it’s existence entirely, if only bc it is an example of aphobia. Aromantics are people who identify as aromantic -briefly described above. Rejecting someone’s identify, excluding them from the community Bc they are not “really oppressed enough” or “queer enough” etc. Conflating it with choices to not be in relationships or to fuck around -in such cases the individuals are not and do not identify as aromantic. Those are many examples of the bias aromantics can face. If a cishet man is aromantic, he is part of the lgbtq+ community.

How could he not be? Far too many reactions to the idea itself is enough to show the lack of acceptance. Making up scenarios justifying the rejection, because there isn’t any reason to otherwise. The understanding of aromanticism and what it is shows it’s not common enough to be widely understood. The history or queer people includes aromantic people and has for a long time. Exclusion helps no one.

*while oppression is usually a factor of the lives of lgbtq+ people to make it a necessary for their inclusion is ridiculous. Admittedly it is often so present, and necessary to fight against such oppression therefore excluding it from consideration is nearly impossible. But not definitive. Ideally the community would be about a) a less common orientation and b) celebrating that. But that “less common” imo is the part that matters most.

PS it is worth note some aromantic people may themselves not consider themselves queer or even part of their wider lgbtq+ community. That is their personal choice, however excluding all of them is still wrong. Their struggles and lives -nor any lgbtq+ peoples- need not be exactly the same for them to be kin, for us to be stronger together. To stand together.

[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!

[eeblouissant]

agh agh okay … i know I’m supposed to be on a break (and I have been! And enjoying it at that) but this little moment !!!!! I needed somewhere to scream about it quick because !!!!!!!!!! Do !!!! You see!!!!!! Dorothy’s face !!!!!!!!!!!

[cuteniaarts]

@katkastrofa: *writes a single throwaway line in one chapter of Lost and Found that is never referenced again*

Me, completely randomly and with no prompting: Alright, bet–

[sanchoyo]

We had to put him down this morning. His health was getting too bad and I couldn’t stand the idea of him suffering.

it’s just crazy to think I don’t really have puppy pictures of him because we got him before we even had cell phones. I picked him because all the other puppies had cute little shirts on and when I asked why he didn’t, the guy giving him to us said he was too rowdy and was a wiggly little fighter and I was so charmed by that. He had so much personality and would wake me up at ungodly hours in the morning for our walks. But like, he gave me a reason to get outside and see the sunrise everyday. I hope I took even half as much care of him as he did for me. Love you forever, fuzzy ❤️

[age-of-moonknight]

“Instinct,” Moon Knight (Vol. 9/2022), #22.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Artist: Alessandro Cappuccio; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[ivyithink]

i am forever thankful that in tlk religions and beliefs seriously influence actions and views of the characters, but all seemingly mystical and supernatural things have logical explanations, making the world grounded in reality and viewing experience a lot less confusing

that said, i am a complete hoe for some scary supernatural religious horror imagery, so yeah

[spookyboywhump]

How would you recommend someone who's been here awhile as a whump blogger get more... engagement? I will post ask games and get virtually no ask or such. :( when I first started I had crazy engagement but now it's just gone. Makes me feel a little bad like I did something wrong? Aaa I'm sorry xx

Ahahaa anon this is an interesting ask to get at an interesting time. I’m going to do my best to help and give advice with what I’ve been wanting to try out as this is something that I have been thinking about a lot lately as well. I’m going to put this below a cut as I often feel. Weird talking about things regarding engagement and I understand some people don’t like those conversations but y know it is what it is

Let me start off with, I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong friend! I have noticed engagement has gone down a lot lately, not just in myself but in blogs that I follow that were VERY active and got lots of engagement back when they first started posting, and while they’re still very active and absolutely fantastic and talented writers, they still aren’t getting the attention they used to. I want to add a quick disclaimer that I understand engagement and attention is not everything, that we are supposed to create for ourselves, we are not simply content machines here to please an audience but also. When you go from having constant engagement with your work to what feels like none, it does feel a little discouraging, if not a lot discouraging and leave you wondering what changed. I think that’s normal. While we should create with ourselves in mind, it’s also just human nature to want to connect and interact with others who also enjoy our creations!

Onto the next thing, I have a few theories as to why engagement in general may have gone down. Obviously, I don’t know who you are or what your specific situation is so these may not apply! But they are things I think about when I think about this

Personally, I joined as a whump blog in 2019 and gained a bit of a following RIGHT before Covid lockdowns. Around this time a lot of people were home, a lot of people had way more time to write, to read, to interact with each other, I recall this time as being very active for everybody, between the Whump community online and whump discord servers, nobody had anywhere to go or anything else to do so we were all online indulging in what may have been a new hobby and new and exciting space for some people.

Following that, Covid lockdowns ended. People went back to work, back to school, and suddenly a lot of us just. Can’t be as active as we used to. This community seems to be full of neurodivergent people, I imagine a lot of us are struggling to balance school/work, household responsibilities, and our hobbies and things like writing or keeping up with our favorite series may fall to the side unfortunately. People graduated high school, started college, started jobs, these will take up a lot of time so I’m not really surprised to see a decrease in general activity.

So just like those things mean a lot less people are likely to be active as much as they used to, it may also mean you aren’t as active as you used to be. Again, I don’t know your situation personally, but I went back to work in February of 2021 and since then I have written. Less and less. It’s actually kind of depressing when I see time stamps on things and realize how little I wrote at all in 2022 because work was such a drain on me and even now, I struggle to have the time, energy, and inspiration all at the same time to write when I have other things that need to be done as well. My own engagement has gone down significantly since when I first started, so I understand exactly what your talking about, I post about my oc’s constantly but I struggle to really write and it’s very rare to get asks about them the way that I used to (that’s not to say it never happens and I love seeing the ones I do get in my inbox but I have noticed a change that I don’t think is exactly significant to just myself)

(Split this up cuz it was too long for one lmao) I mostly assume it’s due to less people being active as per the reasons mentioned above, there are names I used to see often that have since disappeared and I think about often, but also I know it’s partly on me because I just. Don’t write as much as I used to. People engaged when I had writing for them to engage with. I don’t have that very often any more so they don’t have anything to work with. That’s understandable. I often find myself getting in a mood where I’ve convinced myself everyone has lost interest and if I’m being completely honest that poll I posted was to see if something I was wondering about was correct because I have always noticed a slight uptick in asks or requests regarding one OC but unfortunately I still write primarily for myself and that one OC just. Isn’t the one I want to focus on all the time and I worried I was failing a lot of people by focusing on what I liked.

Anyways that’s all to say. I understand what you mean and this has also been on my mind a lot lately. But I’ve also been thinking about what to do about it.

For one thing, for the same reasons I don’t write as much as I used to, I also don’t read as much as I used to, I miss connecting with other people over THEIR work as well. That doesn’t always mean they’ll be into my stuff, they don’t have to be! I love that they’re creating at all and I want to enjoy it and engage with them over their creations as well! Of course I understand we shouldn’t be interacting just in the hopes it’ll draw attention to ourselves, but it’s also the natural outcome of things. If we aren’t able to reach out to others, they likely won’t reach out to us or look into what we’re doing. There’s quite a few of us, it’s easy to miss some really awesome blogs and really awesome work just because we end up in our own little circles.

Posting your writing or art or whatever it may be regularly, especially being sure to put it in the Whump community tags allows for more people to keep up with it or new people to find and support you and potentially garner new interest if you feel like people have lost interest in what you make. Personally, my goal with doing whumptober is to start writing and posting somewhat regularly again, in a way that more and new people may see it. This is also something I need to fix up but having a good master list is great for people who are new and want to catch up!

And not to sound like hopelessly optimistic but like. Don’t give up. And focus on creating with yourself in mind. You didn’t do something wrong, things have just changed, I forgot to mention this above as it just came to me but I remembered tumblr started doing that thing where you need an account to send anon asks which will have axed a lot of people who were lurking without an account and didn’t want to make one. I know it feels disheartening and discouraging because we want people to enjoy our work but the only way to get that is to keep working. Your work still has value even if people aren’t engaging the way they used to and I’m sure that it’s great! The people who love it the same as you do will find it I’m sure, and I’m wishing you the best of luck!

[springweaver]

Finally finished another scarf! Its been on my loom since December and also I think its possessed by the devil maybe. Motivation to work on this was so scarce, the weft I used is so thin that it felt like I was never making any progress, and due to a mistake I must’ve made while putting the warp on, I had some really fun tension issues almost the entire time :))))) You can definitely still see how the scarf is kinda warpy, haha. That being said, I’m still really proud of this, and happy that I can finally tackle some other projects!! (I am finally free…)

[falesten-iw]

When I first joined Tumblr, I had no idea what I was walking into. There’s no manual for navigating this wild, untamed corner of the internet. My first moment here? I was greeted by an image completely naked, no warning, no explanation. It was just there, bold and unapologetic. That’s when I realized: Tumblr is a place where anything can happen.

But for all its chaos, Tumblr has become something far greater than I ever expected. For us Palestinians, this platform isn’t just a space to scroll through memes or vent about life. It’s a lifeline, a place where we’ve taken the raw, messy energy of this site and turned it into a battleground for survival. Here, we tell our stories, raise funds, and fight for our lives.

I’ve seen campaigns soar past their goals, bringing hope to families barely holding on. But I’ve also seen campaigns like mine, ones that fight tooth and nail for every single dollar, every reblog, every addition, and every ounce of hope. My family’s lives depend on this.

It hasn’t been easy. Zionists flood all Palestinian words with hate, twisting truths and spreading lies. They aim to discredit us, to make people doubt us. It’s exhausting. Some nights, I sit with my phone in my hands, wondering if this fight is too big for me. But then something beautiful happens: a donation comes through, a kind message appears, or someone I’ve never met reblogs my story with words that feel like a warm embrace.

And through it all, people are starting to see the truth. The hate doesn’t drown us; it sharpens our voices. Every day, more people step forward to stand with us, to say, “I see you, I hear you, and I’m with you.” It’s those moments that keep me going.

To everyone who has already helped, whether through verification, donating, wrting post , reblogging, or simply sharing a kind word: thank you. You’ve done more for my family than I could ever put into words. But the reality is, we’re not there yet. My family is still waiting for a chance to breathe, to live without fear, to fill their empty stomachs with warm food, and to wrap themselves in clothes thick enough to keep out the bitter cold. They’re hungry, they’re freezing, and I can’t do this alone.

This fight is hard, but it’s not hopeless. Strangers have become friends, and friends have become family. Some of you have shown up in ways I never imagined, treating my family’s survival as if it were your own. That kind of solidarity? It’s powerful.

Tumblr might be chaotic, unpredictable, and sometimes downright bizarre, but it’s also the place where we’ve built something extraordinary: a community that refuses to look away from injustice. With your help, we can take this fight all the way. My family’s lives are within reach, and together, I know we’ll get there.

This campaign isn’t just about me. It supports 26 people, including two orphaned children and an injured family member suffering from hemiplegia after being hit by shrapnel during a bombing. Surgery is desperately needed to replace the infected and failing plates. The needs are urgent, and the future of 26 lives depends on your support.

The video showing the injured family member is shared before in this post: Link.

Please help us ! Donate and reblog this post to spread our story.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 100 SEK is equivalent to 10 dollars, and 200 SEK equals 20 dollars and so on.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

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@secretgoths @cauli-flawa @faraliniste @adrowninggrip @thesavagesnakeplant

@g-l-a-s-s-h-e-a-r-t-s-s @illuminated-runas @silverstone-gp @saintverse @whalefill

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@paper-mario-wiki @prisonhannibal @a-shade-of-blue @ramshackledtrickster @punkitt-is-here

[readwritealldayallnight]

You know the woman in line behind you is getting impatient, hearing her not so subtle exasperated sigh as you continue to search through your bag, your cheeks burning a deeper shade of crimson when you catch the barista’s tight lipped smile in your direction, her attempt at reassuring you as part of her job, though you can tell she wishes you’d hurry up as well

As if your debit card declining a mortifying four times hadn’t been enough, but then your attempt at using your credit card was just as unsuccessful, the sound of the failed transaction on a stupid 6£ drink sounding out for everyone in queue to know how broke you really were

Embarrassment coursing through your veins, already thinking about how you’ll never have the guts to come back to this cafe again as you desperately search for enough spare change at the bottom of your purse to cover this morning’s coffee, your scrambling comes to a pause when a large shadow suddenly eclipses the overheard lighting above you

In the midst of your frantic searching, a tall figure has come to stand just next to you, their gloved hand stretching past your figure to tap a card against the machine, the happy beep of the teller confirming the transaction’s been accepted this time

“I’ve got tha’ for ya.” A deep, gravelly Manchester accent mutters low enough for only you to hear, before the figure tries to retreat back into queue unnoticed

You eyebrows shoot up in shock, the barista equally appearing surprised but not displeased as she finally gets to hand you your drink and quickly wish you a good day before she’s already trying to help the woman waiting behind you

You step aside out of the queue, swinging your head around to try and spot your mystery saviour who stepped in and helped you out without even needing so much as a thanks in return apparently

You spot him instantly, the absolute size of him easily giving him away. No one else in the small cafe could have created such a large, intimidating shadow, let alone spoken in such a deep voice that sent chills down your spine

He stands a head above anyone else in queue, currently last in the line after he stepped out to pay for you. He’s wearing a simple black medical mask on the lower half of his face, a black hoodie with the hood pulled over his head offers you only a small glimpse of his eyes, which are noticeably pointed at the ground at the moment

You’re walking towards him before you even realize it

“Th- thank you. I don’t-” You’re cut off when those same eyes glance up to meet your own, stealing your breath away. He seems almost as surprised that you’re speaking to him as you were when he stepped in and paid for you, his eyes betraying his shock for only a fraction of a second before he’s steeling himself and his eyes darken. You get the vague impression that he isn’t someone who’s used to being caught off guard

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.” You say to him, wanting to express just how grateful you are to him for his random act of kindness, but he says nothing in return, hardly blinking once as he simply stares back at you

“I can’t understand why my cards weren’t working today. I promise I don’t like- this isn’t a thing I do. Go into coffee shops and pretend I can’t pay, hoping someone else will…” You awkwardly laugh to yourself, beginning to ramble in an effort to fill in the silence

“Anyways I just, really wanted to say thank you. I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re scrambling now, attempting to save face as this man just looks at you, an arm beginning to swing your purse off your shoulder in hopes of maybe finding enough change to appease this guy

“Not necessary.” The deep voice finally says again, his eyes leaving yours to scan you from top to bottom and then back up again, almost examining the sight before him. You almost feel like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, seeing the mask moving along with the sound of that gravelly voice an enrapturing vision

“Oh- well I- I mean that’s really nice of you, but I swear I can pay you back.” You recognize that feeling beginning to swirl low in your stomach, familiar with the warmth gathering in the apples of your cheeks; your body realizing it a split second before your brain catches up. You’re kind of into this guy. You can’t see much of his face, but the sliver you do see certainly isn’t unattractive, his height and build speaks for itself, with a voice like that and the fact that he’s just saved your butt and expected not even a thanks in return, you’re wondering if he’s too good to be true

“Do you come here often?” You’re asking him before you can stop yourself, watching a single one of his eyebrows arching ever so slightly. “I just mean that- I come here a lot- sometimes. And if you’re here next time I’m here, then maybe I can pay you back, buy you a drink.”

You’re losing confidence the longer he stands there, not answering. What were you thinking? This guy was just trying to be nice, get the annoying girl holding up the line out of the way so that people can order their drinks and go about their day, and here you are holding him up even longer-

“If it’ll make ya happy.” He’s suddenly answering, snapping you out of your downward spiral. If you could see the grin that slowly creeps upon your face, you might be otherwise embarrassed, but right now you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Oh okay, amazing. I mean- yeah that would- that would be cool. Okay.” You reply, glancing at your watch. “I’m not sure for you, but um, I’m almost always here each Sunday. Around this time.”

“I’ll be here next Sunday. Around this time.” He says matter-of-factly.

“Next in line please.” The barista at the corner calls out, interrupting the two of you. You glance back to see that it’s now his turn to order, feeling bad that you’re about to hold up the queue yet again.

“Great. I’ll see you Sunday then. Thank you again, seriously. I really owe you one.” You say, gripping the straps of your bag tighter as you offer him a sheepish smile before ducking out of the busy cafe, a small grin playing across your face.

Ghost watches your figure through the large windows as you walk out of the shop, across the street, disappearing into the crowd of morning goers strolling about. Only once he cannot see you anymore, does he walk up to the counter, slipping a 20£ note to the barista along with a slight nod of acknowledgement, before he himself is turning to walk out of the cafe, empty handed, intent on catching up to you from a distance.

~~~~~~~~~~

AKA Ghost has been stalking you for months and finally comes up with a way to have you approach him

[lokissweater]

a million more novembers

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: its you and megumi’s cute little two year anniversary! a car picnic at a stargazing hotspot in the city— snacks, drinks, your loving baseball man, and gifts galore? yes please!

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, cursing, FLUUUUFFF GALOOREEEE AWWWUUHHH!!, sexual themes, mostly sfw except for like one steamy part ;), boobie sucking, grinding, soft loving megumi OFCCC, sliight angst but really nothing, all characters are aged up, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 8.8k

authors note: ANNIVERSARY SPEECCCIIAAALLL I AM CRRRYYIINNNGGG!!! i hope you guys enjoy this little side fun mini chapter of sir gumi and reader’s anniversary day, and their endeavors with yuji and readers best friend :333 wanted to give you guys an extra mlb!megumi chapter in celebration of their LUUUUVVV !!! MWAAAHHHHH I LOOOVEE YOUUUU !!! TAKE CAAAREEEE !!! <3333333

i highly advise you to read the other parts of this series or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

if you could, you’d fake pass out at this very moment so that way you’d be excused by your professor and get the fuck out of your afternoon lecture right this instant.

but you couldn’t, because attendance was mandatory and you’d lose points upon missing out… and you had an exam next week— which is something you normally just grumbled about and dealt with seeing as it was just a part of being in college, except right now? it was criminal to even think about an upcoming exam like this.

because it was you and megumi’s two year anniversary.

and the only thing you wanted to do was be there with him for the entire day… but because of your classes and megumi having abnormal back to back practices again due to the upcoming world series, you both agreed that you’d drive over to the stadium after your afternoon class and leave together for your little date after he was done.

but even though megumi had practice, you wanted to be at the stadium so fucking badly— watching him pitch and swing and just do what he does best one of your absolute favorite hobbies, the way he plays never getting old and actually illegal to even think that something like that could be a possibility.

you shrunk down in your seat, arms crossed as your professor went over topics about something and guidelines about whatever, you usually paying more attention to the material if it was any regular day but wanting to strangle yourself because the education system was preventing you from being with your man.

your phone lit up suddenly with a notification, you smiling softly to yourself upon realizing who it was and sitting up, grabbing your phone to unlock it.

(gumi <3): how’s class baby

you quickly typed back a response.

(you): do you think if i pretend to pass out right now my professor will excuse me and i can just leave

(gumi <3): lol

(gumi <3): you only have thirty minutes left though right?

(you): okay but gumi what does that have to do with me wanting to pretend to pass out so i can go see you faster

(you): and make fan edits of you while i wait 

(you): I— I MEAN—

(gumi <3): omg

(gumi <3): you’ve made enough of those

(gumi <3): no more

you quietly scoffed in your seat, thumbs rapidly typing away.

(you): gumi i can’t believe you’re not supportive of my extra curricular activities rn

(you): after EVERYTHING i’ve done for you

(you): after all the times i’ve sucked your dick

(you): and i thought you liked my edits :(

megumi took a minute to respond before your phone buzzed again.

(gumi <3): LOL

(gumi <3): i do baby i’m kidding

(gumi <3): and don’t put that image in my head rn

(you): oh??????

(you): and why not???? ;))

(you): boner alert perhaps??? ;))

(you): maybe today during our cute little date you can take me to pound town in the back seat of your car and make me cum and cry all over your dick gumi!!

you shrunk further down in your seat and snickered quietly, funnily shielding your phone to prevent anyone else seated around you in your lecture from seeing the absurd messages on your phone.

(gumi <3): jesus fucking christ

(gumi <3): why are you doing this

(you): because i loooveee youuuu <33

(you): and i can’t wait to seee youuuu <333

(you): maybe i should go to the bathroom rn and send you a boobie pic :P

(gumi <3): please

(gumi <3): fuck wait my breaks over i have to go

(gumi <3): fuck

you mushed a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing out loud, typing a response.

(you): BAAAAHAHAHAH

(you): OMG IM SO SORRY GUMI

(you): HAVE A GOOD REST OF YOUR PRACTICE OKAY ILL SEE YOU IN A BIT! <3

(gumi <3): do you think if i pretend to pass out coach will excuse me

(you): NO GUMI 

(you): GOOOO

(you): GO PLAY GO PLAY

(gumi <3): god

(gumi <3): fine

(gumi <3): i love you pretty baby i’ll see you 

(gumi <3): and pay attention

(you): i love you too gumiiii !!! <333

(you): NO PROMISES BYE !!!

(you): SMOOOCCCHHHH

you breathed out softly through your nose and set your phone back down, one leg crossing over the other as you impatiently waited and practically glared at the powerpoint slides in front of you, your ankle bouncing and mind drifting off again— double checking over the list of things you and megumi needed for your date instead repeatedly in case you forgot something.

since your anniversary couldn’t be an all day thing, the two of you planned a cute little car picnic date at a star gazing hotspot out in the hills of the city, a place megumi had actually been to before in his childhood with gojo and his sister, and one he said he remembered to be nice and quiet with a good view of the stars, similar to how they looked like when you all went on that trip in the mountains a few months ago with his dad, yuji, and your best friend— the fact only making you overly ecstatic, since megumi suggesting something like that without a little gruff and huff was always a special rare sight to see.

and the only things megumi literally allowed you to bring were the fuzzy blankets and pillows and such, him forbidding you from buying absolutely anything else like snacks, drinks, and the food, saying that he had it and it was okay— simply only chuckling and lightly flicking your forehead when you grumbled and fought with him over it in the hopes that he would let you take care of at least half of the things.

he did not.

“alright i think i’ll stop here for today and let you guys go a little earl—”

you shot up from your desk and shoved your books in your bag, not even letting your professor finish before you were already up and speed walking out of the lecture hall and down your building, thanking the gods above for the thousandth time that megumi’s stadium was only a fifteen minute drive from your campus, and therefore made it so much easier for you to drive on over without difficulties and pretty much whenever the fuck wanted… which was all of the time.

just as you plopped in the drivers seat and chucked your bag to the passengers side, an apparent buzzing vibrated through the right back pocket of your skirt as you reached in to pull it out, your best friend’s name flashing at the top.

“hellooo!” you answered, swinging the door shut and turning on the ignition, the heater unit blasting through the vents and warming up the spiking chilly temperature in your car.

“hi babe!” your best friend greeted. “how far away are you?”

“i just got out of class! i should be there in about ten if i go over the speed limiiit.” you grinned, putting your phone on speaker and setting it down on your lap, backing out of your parking space.

“SHE SAID TEN MINUTES GOING OVER THE SPEED LIMIT MEGU— what?! i can’t— i can’t hear you idiot you’re across the fucking field!—”

you laughed loudly as you drove out of your campus parking lot, zooming down the street and going the usual route to his stadium.

“oh my— megumi ordered and yelled at me to call you to see how far you were babe.” she sighed. “when is this man ever gonna treat me fairly this is ridiculous— WHAT?! TELL HER WHAT?!—”

“i’m about eight minutes away now!” you laughed. “tell him that please i’m almost there—”

“WAIT SHE SAID SHE’S EIGHT MINUTES AWA— oh my god okay megumi says not to go over the speed limit and to park next to him in the players parking lot.”

“tell him i said watching him play baseball is more important than the law i don’t give a—”

“SHE SAID WATCHING YOU PLAY BASEBALL IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE LAW— oh he’s coming. save yourself and hang up y/n he’s coming— YUJI GET HIM HE’S GONNA TAKE MY PHONE— ARGH STOP!—”

“—go over the speed limit and see what happens.”

a different deeper voice muttered over the line, partially out of breath and one you instantly recognized to be megumi’s as you giggled.

“gumi the speed limit is a social construct and if i don’t get to watch you play for the last thirty minutes of practice i’m gonna gauge my eyeballs out.”

“baseball’s also a social construct.” he deadpanned. “and you watch me play all of the time baby don’t speed you drive like a fucking street racer sometimes.”

“but isn’t it cool and sexy that i do? eehh?” you quipped in a silly way. “and i don’t care how many times i’ve seen you play gumi… i still need to be admitted into a mental facility each time it’s embarrassing.”

he chuckled softly.

“you almost here?”

“yeah! i’m just pulling into the stadium i’m going over to your structure right now.”

“okay.” he spoke. “park next to me please.”

“—megumi i told her that already—”

“can you not eavesdrop—”

“—if it has to do with y/n fuck no—”

“—okay!” you sputtered while shifting your gear to park and turning off the ignition, cutting their bickering off. “i’m here gumi i’m gonna walk to the stadium now.”

“alright i’ll see you baby.” 

“i’ll see you!—”

“your phone time’s revoked asswipe give me my device right now—”

“—can you mind your fucking business for two seconds—”

“NO!—”

you winced and hung up the phone, shaking your head amusedly as you grabbed your keys and stepped out of the car before locking it, walking your way over across the parking structure and to the entrance of the stadium, maneuvering through various hallways and corners like muscle memory and politely saying hello to some of the team’s staff that you recognized as you walked.

you passed through the main hall— megumi’s giant glorious handsome portrait still displayed proudly against the wall amongst his other teammates, prestigious awards and trophies in glass frames and casings littering the room from practically top to bottom as you happily moved through the hall, passing by the same bench that you first unknowingly and officially met megumi in while you were embarrassingly crying your eyes out over him— a treasured memory that you swoon over every now and then at the way he kindly gave you his sunglasses to hide your big fat tears.

you hoped that megumi’s management never replaced that freaking bench, as you wanted to put a plaque on it in commemoration of you and your emo man, knowing that if they ever did you’d be at those stadium doors first thing in the morning to grab and take it home with you to keep.

upon opening the doors to the stadium, you continued on down the steps as you looked on ahead and squinted your eyes, distant hollers and the clanking of bats echoing through the otherwise peaceful atmosphere, several players out on the field practicing and pitching but none being megumi as you reached the bottom and went inside the bullpen, expecting to see your best friend sitting there and possibly still fighting with your boyfriend, but faltering instead.

because megumi was sat there on the bench by himself with his baseball cap on… waiting for you, a bouquet of pretty pink tulips in his arms as he looked straight over the field with an emotionless gaze, his head snapping to you once he heard you coming in and standing up, his face gradually warming.

pink tulips were your favorite.

“gumi…” you spoke softly, astonished and mushy inside as you grabbed the bouquet from him, it neatly tucked in brown paper wrap and pretty pink tule with a little matching bow around the stems to tie it off, the paper crinkling in your arms.

“hi.”

“oh my— these are gorgeous baby thank you!” you gushed, your cheeks hot and you absolutely beaming as you swung your unoccupied arm around his neck and brought him in, pecking his slightly sweaty cheek repeatedly as he huffed out a breathy laugh and pulled you to him.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured, cheek lightly resting against the side of your head as you smiled.

“you really didn’t have to gumi you bought basically everything for today…” you spoke softly, bringing your head back a bit to look at him.

he shrugged.

“so.”

you scoffed. “so? you don’t let me do anything and i feel oppressed.”

he snorted, playfully rolling his eyes and kissing your forehead. 

dramatic.

“it’s fine baby.”

“okay but it’s not.” you grumbled lowly, and the corners of his lips quirked up, taking a tiny step back as he released you and lifted a hand, gently pinching your cheek.

“you look really pretty.”

your pout slid into a cheeky smile, a cute blush rising to your cheeks.

“thank you gumi!” you readjusted the bouquet in your arms and shyly looked away, his direct dark blue eyes on you still nerve wracking even after two years. 

“h— how come you’re not on the field?”

“oh.” megumi’s gaze shifted to his playing teammates. “i wanted to give you the tulips before going back out.”

your eyes softened, chest clenching as you stood up on your tippy toes and gave him a little kiss.

“you’re so nice…” you murmured. 

“i—”

“fushiguro i need you back on the field!”

megumi huffed and rolled his eyes at his coach interrupting his time with you, hands reluctantly dropping from your waist as he took a step back.

“m’sorry baby...” he sighed tiredly, lifting his cap up from his spiky hair and adjusting it back on. “practice is almost over i promise.”

you frantically shook your head. “no gumi it’s okay don’t apologize! go please though i don’t want you to get in trouble.”

he nodded, quickly pecking your cheek before stepping out of the bullpen and back out on the field, turning his body slightly just as he reached the home plate and raising a hand to you as a little goodbye, shifting his attention to his coach and the rest of his teammates once he saw you give him one back.

you walked over to the benches then and sat, your eyes happily watching the mock game unfold as you settled your pretty bouquet carefully over your lap.

“please tell me you guys are done it’s fucking cold up here in the stands—”

your head shot to the side and you instantly smiled, your best friend popping her head in from the bullpen entrance and shivering.

“heyyy! oh my god yes come come—” you scooched over and patted the spot next to you, her trodding over and plopping down.

“let me seeeee!” she squealed and nudged your shoulder with hers, gesturing to your tulips as you lit up and turned the bouquet in her direction, her jaw dropping.

“i hate him but he’s good.” she muttered, shaking her head as you laughed and lightly hit her arm. 

megumi ran through a few bases, passing by the bullpen and stopping at a base closest to it with remnants of brown dirt puffing and swirling through the air, him looking over his shoulder at you briefly before turning back to the game.

“he does so much for me that i feel like a big fat loser that does mediocre for him.” you spoke worriedly, and your girl friend looked at you bewilderedly.

“are you kidding? y/n you being with him is enough jesus that man is an ogre—”

you flicked her forehead and she cackled, pushing your hand away.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry i’m joking… kind of…whatever— babe you literally do so much let him dote on you like this… that man loves you.”

you pursed your lips to suppress a giddy smile.

“plus after the pain and torture we both went through with your high school boyfriend christ—”

“oh my god don’t remind me.” you mumbled, shifting your attention back to the field. “he sucked so bad.”

she laughed. “and it took you forever to realize that he was a loser y/n… you gave him too much and he gave you absolutely nothing.”

you solemnly nodded, the feeling of miserable regret filling your body.

“granted i think megumi’s also a loser.” she continued, and you playfully glared. “but! he’s a different kind of loser. he’s good for you babe… and you’re super good for him.”

you grinned brightly at her, set your bouquet to the side, and threw your arms around her shoulders, bringing her in a tight hug as she laughed loudly and held you back with just as much love.

“have fun on your anniversary date tonight!” your girl friend exclaimed. “you guys are still going to that stargazing spot right?”

“mhm!” you nodded. “we’re going up in his car and setting up the backseat once we get there.”

“are you guys getting freaky too back there?—”

your head snapped ahead to find yuji leaning against the gate of the bullpen on the other side, your eyes wide and mortified as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestingly.

“h—huh?—”

“eehhh?” your best friend matched her boyfriends expression, her eyes twinkling and mischievous. “valid question yu! what are you wearing under your outfit let me see—”

you yelped as your best friend pulled and tugged at the collar of your chunky knitted sweater, basically shoving her head through to see what you had on and you pushing on her shoulders to try and get her away.

“stop you sicko!—”

“y/n why the fuck don’t you have a lingerie set under here—”

“oh my god shut your mouth right now—”

megumi curiously turned his head over to the commotion by the bullpen, jaw dropping and eyes growing big in absolute dumb struck horror as he watched your best friend basically trying to strip your sweater off of you, and yuji just standing there and watching like a fucking pervert—

“itadori!” he barked, and yuji jumped a whopping fifteen feet in the air, swiveling around to face him.

“oh hey man!— WHAT THE FU—”

megumi hurled a literal baseball at him and yuji dove out of the way, the ball hitting against the gate of the bullpen as you and your best friend jumped at the slamming noise.

“the fuck are you guys doing?!” megumi yelled, arms out in emphasis as he quickly strode over with pinched brows.

he looked to you as soon as he properly reached the bullpen, the collar of your sweater stretched out over an exposed shoulder with your black bra literally peeking out, your pretty eyes wide and downright alarmed as your best friend still had an iron tugging grip on your sweater.

megumi’s gaze hardened, switching to your girl friend.

“get off.”

he looked to yuji, his legs wobbling in fear as he used the gaps of the bullpen gate to lift himself up from the dirt.

“close your fucking eyes—”

“yes sir fushiguro sir!—”

“what?!” your best friend exclaimed. “megumi if you guys are gonna fuck in the backseat she needs to be looking scrumptious—”

his face paled and his cheeks turned a vibrant pink simultaneously.

“why are you guys always like this?” he muttered exasperatedly, stepping inside the bullpen now and pushing her off of you, your girl friend scoffing as megumi pulled your collar back over your shoulder and fixed your sweater for you, your lips clamped shut as you tried your best to refrain yourself from laughing.

“oh my bad. thought the perv in you would thank my services—”

“why the hell would i thank you for stripping my girlfriend in front of the entire fucking team—”

“—y/n i literally think i have a lingerie set in my car i’ll give it to you it’s new i just bought it to show yuji—”

you gasped. 

“wait really?! what color? i wanted to wear one but i didn’t want to show up to class with it—”

megumi’s eyes bulged and shot to you, mouth opening and closing like an idiot.

“i think it’s red but i’m pretty sure your tits are bigger than mine lemme see—”

your best friend yanked your collar again and you screamed as megumi grabbed you and pulled you up against his chest, shielding you away from your lunatic girl friend as she cackled and pointed at megumi.

“megumi’s getting a boonneeerrrr!—”

his eyes frantically switched between her and yuji— his hands still tightly clasped over his eyes.

“what kind of sick fucks are you both?!”

you giggled uncontrollably over his appalled menacing face, your laughter muffling up against his uniform.

“us?!” your best friend yelled. “don’t get me started on you! i saw that text you sent y/n last week asking to send a video of her fi—”

“oh god babe don’t finish that sentence also can i open my eyes now you guys—”

“itadori! fushiguro! huddle up!”

yuji timidly seperated his fingers and looked at the group, hands dropping and a wide smile spreading once he realized you weren’t half naked anymore.

“off we go fushiguro!” he quipped, turning and the dirt crackling beneath his cleats as he walked. “boss man wants us—”

“i heard him.” megumi grumbled, arms loosening from their hold around you as they slid and fell at his sides, his face just plain out annoyed and over it, and you smiled sweetly at him.

“it’s okay!” you poked his cheek. “i’ll wait for you here while you guys finish up? or do you want me to go inside the locker rooms already?”

“go to the locker rooms baby.” he mumbled. “it’s cold.”

you nodded, and he placed a hand on your head with the tiniest smile, heading out of the bullpen after and jogging up to the rest of his teammates for regrouping and final announcements.

your best friend swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and you both made your way to the exit just as you grabbed your bouquet again, walking up the steps of the stands and down a few corridors and pathways until you reached the echoey hallway, the teams locker room coming into view as you pushed the heavy door open and went in.

“do you still want my lingerie set?” your girl friend asked, fixing her hair in front of one of the big mirrors. “we could still try and see if it fits but your boobs are huge compared to mine—”

you laughed and waved her off. “it’s okay babe! thank you though… i don’t think we’re gonna do anything like that out in the open and in the middle of nowhere…”

she shrugged, sending you a little smirk through the mirror. “megumi’s a weirdo. so i think you in fact will.”

you shot her a funny glare and walked to your boyfriends locker while placing your pretty bouquet down on the bench— turning the little knob around and hitting the numbers that made up his locker combination, the metal clinking open and you opening it to organize his clothes and equipment like you usually did.

you dragged his heavy duffel bag out and unzipped it, rummaging around a little to find the clothes that he had packed for your date today— spotting his thick black crewneck and gray cargo pants as you took them out and folded them neatly on the bench in front of you, setting the rest of the things he needed to the side and perking up once you heard distant chattering and banter, several players starting to pile in as you shot a few polite smiles, stepping over the bench and plopping down to wait for megumi.

“i said no.”

“pleeeaaasee!” yuji begged, the two of them emerging from the entryway as you lit up at the sight of your grumpy man, his agitated eyes to the floor as he trudged over. “i thought we were best friends fushiguro. brothers if you will—”

“no.”

“pleaaaseee!—”

“what does he want?” you laughed softly, megumi’s eyes coming up and moving to his tidily folded clothes that you had set for him on the bench, his gaze softening.

“nothing bab—”

“wrestle!” yuji wailed, dramatically leaning his entire weight on your best friend in a hug as she dumbfoundedly reciprocated, patting his back. “i wanted to see who’s strongest…”

“babe go change you’re sweaty—”

“not until fushiguro wrestles with me—”

“no.”

“whyyy?!”

you giggled loudly, hand over your mouth as megumi sent you a small close lipped smile and stepped over the bench to his locker, taking off his baseball cap and hanging it inside.

“because it’s stupid.” he mumbled, and yuji scoffed.

“wrestling is the ultimate sport for strategy, discipline and character how could any of that be stupid—”

“yu change i wanna go homeee!” your best friend whined, trying to pry him off of her. “i’ll wrestle with you.”

yuji sprung up and grinned. “will you actually?! i won’t go easy babe i can’t play favorites—”

“yes now move—”

“if i win can you suck my di—”

megumi flung his deodorant at yuji’s head and rolled his eyes as he cried out and pouted, the little container clattering against the ground.

“gumi!” you gasped. “be nice please.”

he sighed softly through his nose, unbuttoning his jersey as he begrudgingly and briefly looked over his shoulder.

“sorry.”

“oh wait what was that?” you girl friend spoke up. “i think you need to speak up a little megumi! can’t hear you.”

“i said sorry.” he spat, and she smiled, satisfied.

“you’re forgiven! thanks!”

megumi grumbled as he shook his jersey off and long sleeve underneath with it, his little chain with his promise ring dangling out around his collar, and you shamelessly and obviously drooling over his bare toned frame then as he sorted through his clothes and got his things ready for the shower— the locker room emptying out now and only one or two players remaining besides the lot of you.

you extended a hand out, wanting megumi to give you his jersey and long sleeve as he shifted his attention to you.

“what baby.”

“i’ll put it in the laundry bin for you!” you spoke sweetly. “so you can go shower.”

his heart squeezed as he shook his head. “s’okay. just wait for me.”

“gumi the laundry room’s just down the hall.” you laughed, taking his uniform from him. “i’ll be quick.”

he pursed his lips, feeling like you’ve already done more than enough for him and him just dicking around and playing ball for hours this entire time, wanting to get your date started so he could spend time with you and give you the things he wanted to give you, and not be around idiot insane people anymore (yuji and your best friend).

“sit down please.” he mumbled.

your jaw dropped.

“i’m being oppressed again—”

“we’ll see you guys tomorrow!” your girl friend smiled, coming over and giving you a hug as yuji went to put a hand on megumi’s shoulder. “have fun on your date! and happy anniversaryyy!”

“thank youuuu!” you responded kindly, hugging her back and swaying funnily, letting her go after and looking to her boyfriend. “drive safe yuji okay?”

“will do!” he smiled brightly, wrapping a friendly arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. “have fun you guys. and don’t get mauled by bears.”

you snorted, the both of you pulling back and waving at each other with final goodbyes before they turned and began walking to the exit, now the only ones left in the locker rooms being you and megumi. 

“text me if you have sex in the back y/n!”

“oh my god!—” you miserably dropped your head in your hands as your girl friends vulgar sentence literally echoed throughout the hallway outside, anyone within a one inch radius able to hear it as megumi laughed quietly, the doors to the locker room officially closing.

“your best friend is clinically insane.”

you giggled, nudging him away playfully and him catching your wrist just as you did so, tugging you in and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“no she’s not.” you smiled cutely, your little cheek pressed up against the warm skin of his chest as he looked at you. “she’s honest. and lovely.”

“and deluded.”

“gumi!”

“sorry.”

he craned his neck down and kissed you, every tense muscle in his body giving away and slowly oozing into a state of peace as your soft lips moved with his, megumi finally having you to himself for the night so he could properly get your anniversary going.

he pulled away and patted your head.

“m’gonna shower really quick baby.”

“okay!” you smiled. “can i sit by the shower with you? heh.”

he chuckled and nodded, interlocking his fingers with yours and pulling you towards the shower room— a spacious and modern area with individual stalls and little plushy sofas across from them, megumi leading you to one as you sat down and took his fresh pair of clothes from him to set on your lap.

“remember when i fucked you in here.”

“gumi!” you gasped as your face grew red. “okay but which time because my favorite time was two weeks ago when you bent me over th—”

he laughed, the boyish sound bouncing off the tile walls as he shook his head with a little faint blush to his cheeks, fingers coming down to unbutton his pants and your hands flying to cover over your eyes, him pausing and looking at you quizzically.

“what.”

“i’m giving you privacy gumi. something you wouldn’t know about in regards to me.”

he scoffed.

“kay fine. i’ll stop asking—”

“no!” you yelled, hands clasping together like a prayer. “don’t finish that sentence i don’t wanna know i don’t need to know whatever it is continue doing it—”

megumi rolled his eyes with a smile, taking off the rest of his clothes and you squeaking as you covered your line of sight again, the sound of the shower running with the door closing an indicator to you that the coast was clear for you to look, hands coming down as they settled over megumi’s clean clothes.

and he literally took less than five minutes to shower… or maybe it was because your little endless chattering made the time go by faster or the fact that you always took close to an hour, but he was out of there with a towel around his delicious waist before you could even realize and on the way out to change into his outfit.

megumi straight from the shower was always an interesting sight to see, for the usual spikes in his jet black hair were nonexistent for the time being as his hair just laid flat, and he almost looked like an entirely different man as you stood on the other side of the bench behind him while he sat tying his shoe laces, you drying his hair with a small white hand towel.

“i’m really excited for tonight gumi!” you cheesed. “oh! and i brought my laptop too incase you wanted to watch a movieeee.”

he straightened up from his hunched over position and stood, turning around to kiss your head in gratitude before taking the towel from you and drying off the last bit of his hair.

“sounds good baby.” he grabbed his duffel bag and swung it over his shoulder, keys hooked from one of his belt loops on his pants as he offered his hand out to you on the way out of the locker room, you happily taking it and interlacing your fingers in the hallway, the both of you walking on to leave the stadium with your bouquet in your arm, making a quick pit stop at the laundry room first to toss his uniform and towels in one of the various hampers, leaving and going through the main hall hand in hand after with the building basically vacant now— not a single player, staff, or management member around as you moved your way down corridors to the exit, entering the parking garage.

megumi grabbed his keys and clicked a button upon reaching the players parking lot area, his shiny black car beeping and flickering its lights and him opening the door to the backseat to throw his stuff in, you catching a glimpse of the piles of grocery bags filled with chips, snacks, pastries and such as you smiled, unlocking your own vehicle and opening your trunk as megumi did his.

he swiftly stepped in and grabbed your blankets and a few pillows, transferring them over to his car and you setting your bouquet down in the back, throwing in a few other things.

“oh gumi!” 

“hm?”

you opened your drivers side door and reached in, megumi peering around from his open trunk to look at you.

“i got us a little lunchbox cake!” you pulled out a small white cake carrier and showed him. “and a number two candle too so we can light it!”

“oh nice baby.” he calmly smiled, reaching into the pocket of his cargo pants and pulling out his wallet.

you blinked.

“what are you doing?”

he gave you a confused look, opening the folds and taking out a few twenty dollar bills.

“for the cake.”

“what?!” you frantically shook your head. “no i got this for us—”

he scoffed, extending his arm out to you regardless with a pile of bills in hand that was way over the initial cost of the little cake, your jaw running slack.

“oh absolutely not sir i’m not taking that—”

“take it.”

“nope!”

“y/n.”

“nuh uh.”

megumi sighed and retracted his hand. “i’m putting it in your purse—”

“if you put it in my purse i swear to god i’m never letting you see me naked ever again—”

he froze and narrowed his eyes at you, you standing there with a shit eating grin as you tilted your head.

“just get in the car.” he grumbled, slamming his trunk shut and doing the same with yours, you cheering in your head and lighting up over your win as you opened his passenger side door and got in, completely unaware of megumi choosing to take his chances and shove the bills in your purse anyways.

the car ride there was a whopping one hour, seeing as the stargazing hotspot was in the middle of the bustling city where megumi’s apartment was around, your boyfriend making frequent stops at various food places to pick up the food he had ordered for the picnic, and you still fighting with him over the fact that he should let you pay at least half, him just laughing at your huffs and puffs until he simmered you down to a mere grumble with a kiss to your cheek.

“i don’t care how many times i’ve done it there isn’t a limit.” 

megumi backed in reverse once he found a good spot for you both on the hill, looking behind through his rear view window with a hand on the back of your headrest.

“but you have to let me pay sometimes gumi.” you sighed softly. “i feel like im freeloading off of your millions and doing fucking nothing.”

he gave you a bewildered look.

“first of all.” he shifted his gear into park. “you do everything so don’t give me that. second of all—”

he unlocked the car and you both got out, the trunk latching open on its own as you walked over.

“you’re not supposed to pay baby.” he stared at you sincerely, a little crease in between his brows. “ever. i don’t care.”

he unhooked the backseats and pushed them down, the trunk now extending even wider and leaving plenty of space for the two of you to set up your picnic, your shoes off and down below next to the car.

“i just—” you struggled, shaking out the blankets and splaying them out. “i worry that it’ll bother you eventually…”

“it won’t.” he responded firmly, yet still gentle. “did your ex-boyfriend make you feel bad about it? is that why?”

you froze.

“no…”

he looked over his shoulder just as he set a pillow down, dark blue eyes staring you down.

“wow i’m so hungry right now gumi are you—”

“i heard what your best friend said during practice about him.” he set a few more pillows down. “she talks like a linebacker.”

you laughed, grabbing the box of fairy lights you had brought and pulling them out, untangling them by sections.

megumi never really asked too in detail about your ex, just because he knew he’d get bitter and bothered by the thought of it, and the only things he really knew was that he was a moron who said you were a blabbermouth and didn’t treat you right at all, your three and a half year relationship with him in high school one megumi wished he could erase entirely.

but now with the way you squirmed and stared off into space in avoidance over this particular topic… he was curious.

just how bad was he?

“did he pay for your dates or did you.”

you fiddled with a little fairy light bulb.

“well— he did… but then we started splitting it… and then i started paying…”

megumi shook his head, reaching for the grocery bags and taking out the snacks he’d bought.

“why.”

you finished untangling the cord and reached up, looping the lights around through the grab handles of the car.

“i don’t really know…” you mumbled. “but i felt bad because he always did initially pay… so i was just giving back. but then—”

you looped it through the last handle and grabbed the battery box.

“i remember one time he asked me if we could split the bill on our anniversary dinner.”

megumi stopped.

“and then every time he did pay for me he would say side joking comments like— ‘are you gonna pay this time? are you gonna take care of the bill? since i bought you dinner are you gonna buy me this?’ blah blah—”

megumi was looking directly at you at this point, eyebrows furrowed and with slightly parted lips as he slowly set up the food and listened.

“and i don’t mess around when it comes to things like money.” you finished off screwing the battery box after putting a fresh pair in, switching the small lever and the fairly lights twinkling to life. “i appreciated so much every time he did pay so i just felt like i was— i don’t know i just felt guilty. his side comments made me feel a little awkward…”

you scooched over and sat back on your ankles next to megumi, helping him with the groceries.

“i remember one time too for valentine’s day, we had gone out to eat dinner and he paid with his usual side comment… but when we got back to his place i had given him his gift and he hadn’t gotten anything for me at all.”

“huh?” he spoke up. “did he give you flowers at least?”

you shook your head, a little sad look on your face.

“he told me my gift was dinner… which again i did really appreciate that he paid. and he never really got me flowers either unless it was for special occasions like anniversaries… so once a year?”

megumi was in complete and utter disbelief.

how in the ever living fuck were you ever with a guy like that for so long? a girl like you whom he literally worshipped the shit out of the ground you walked on, the thought of you being so incredibly sweet and doting and selfless for some dumb fuck who just took advantage of your kindness again aggravating megumi, him chucking the pastries he bought out of the bags one by one bitterly and you blinking at him.

“what a fucking idiot.”

you giggled, nodding in agreement as you both finished setting up, you crawling and sitting down by the mountain of fluffy pillows as you extended an arm out for him.

“that’s why i just get nervous gumi…” you spoke softly, pulling him to lay down next to you as you looked at the beading stars through his open sun roof, the view and landscape of the sparkling city below insane as megumi slid an am around your shoulders, nudging you to lay on his chest. “i don’t wanna end up bothering you or upsetting you about it and repeating the cycle so—”

“oh god baby no…” he looked at you, squeezing your shoulder. “you realize all of that was because he’s a loser right.”

“yeah to an extent—”

“no not to an extent.” megumi cut you off. “i know for a fact he never did anything for you… and for him to do shit like that on top of it is crazy.”

you slid a slow arm across his torso and held him tighter.

“i do what i do because i love you… and because you deserve it. and because i’m supposed to.”

you smiled big, your heart hammering in your chest as you slung your leg across his lap and straddled him then, megumi’s hands instantly coming to settle on your waist as you gave him a cute wicked look.

“i’m tired of talking about him, but you know what else you’re supposed to do?”

the side of his lip curled.

“what pretty baby.”

“make out with me.”

he laughed, a shiny smile on his face as he reached a hand up and brushed your hair over your shoulder, cupping your face after and bringing you down to his level.

“if you tell me you love me.”

you giggled.

“i love you gumi.”

megumi brought you in then and kissed you, light little smacks and wet lips parting and moving as your noses brushed against each other’s delicately, his thumb running gently over your cheek as you readjusted and leaned in, deepening the kiss and megumi parting his lips wider as a result to drink more of you down.

your hips subconsciously rutted downward, him taking a sharp breath in through his nose as he responded and lifted his crotch up, meeting with yours and grinding sensually with every steamy exchange of your soft plush lips on his, both of his hands quickly going down to grab your smooth thighs and knead them.

megumi suddenly slid a fast hand up your chunky sweater to cup your tit, you squeaking and trying to pull your lips off of his so you could speak, but him only chasing after your mouth and trapping you in.

“wait what if— mmph!—” 

“hm?” 

he forced your hips down again and you both moaned at the stimulation.

“what if someone walks by there’s a— fuck— there’s a few cars not too far—”

“don’t care.”

“gumi!—”

he yanked your bra cup down and your tit spilled out, his head diving in under your sweater and popping your nipple in his mouth, both of your hips still grinding and rocking against each others as you dazedly tried to look around for any passing people.

you tried to pull off and megumi yanked your other bra cup down, jerking you roughly to him as your weight gave out underneath you and you basically fell on him, his face fully submerged and stuffed in your puffy tits that he nearly lost it and came in his pants.

lewd slobbering sounds filled the car as he sucked and laid his tongue flat all over your boobs, your shuttering gasps and whines making his dick rock fucking solid in his pants as he continued to make out with your chest, relishing in the feeling of your panties running up and down his crotch and your pretty little skirt exposing your ass.

“baby i’m flashing the city please—”

“m’gonna stick my dick in.”

“no!” you whined, your clit pulsing with every rut from his hips. “when we get home when we get home please it’ll be so obvious we’re having sex if we do—”

he bit the fat of your tit and you yelped.

“it’s our anniversary.”

“i— i know gumi but there’s people!—”

he groaned and let your tits go with a pop, head falling back on the pillows as he looked at you with a dead look— knowing you were completely and absolutely right but refusing to believe it because he was fucking horny, the only conscious brain cell that he had left telling him to just wait and that he’d actually cum in his pants if he kept going.

a tiny smirk spread across his face.

“thought you texted me that i could take you to pound town in the backseat of my car.” 

you blushed, totally forgetting you did that.

“y—yes but—”

“and that you were gonna send me a picture of your tits.”

“i—”

“you lying to me baby?”

“no!” you sputtered. “no gumi we’re still gonna have sex just not here!”

he laughed loudly and nodded, pinching your cheek as he fixed your bra and pulled your sweater down, sitting up a bit.

“i’m kidding s’okay.” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “m’taking pictures of you when we get to my apartment though.”

“huh?!” you exclaimed, your face buzzing with embarrassment but need at the same time. “what— what kind—”

he poked your side. 

“naked.”

your jaw dropped.

“legs spread with—”

“okay i get it i get it!—”

you slapped your hands over his mouth and muffled the rest of his sentence, desperate to get him to stop.

“i have your gift i have your gift open your gift!—”

megumi rolled his eyes and licked his slimy tongue on your palms, you snatching your hands away and giggling as you wiped them on his sweater.

“i told you not to get me anything.”

“too bad!” you grinned, pecking his cheek before swinging yourself off of his lap and reaching into the passengers seat. “close your eyes!”

he sighed softly, a small smile on his face as he complied, hearing slight tissue paper rustlings and things moving before he felt you next to him again.

“okay open!”

his long lashes lifted, eyes growing soft at the ginormous basket you made him— his favorite candies and chips neatly propped up inside with a little baseball teddy bear that had ‘cool baseball man’ embroidered across its jersey, a framed silly picture of the two of you from one of the nights you slept over at his place, various volumes of his current favorite manga wrapped in black tissue paper along with a lego race car set, and a separate shoe box next to the basket— a brand new pair of baseball cleats that he had been specifically eyeing and needing to buy, and knowing that it was ridiculously expensive too as his bulging eyes shot up to your giddy ones.

“baby—” his words got caught in his throat, shaking his head. “baby thank you but you didn’t have to get anything seriously—”

“the fuck.” you snorted. “yes i did! do you likeeee?”

you pushed the shoe box towards him.

“did i get the right ones? these are the cleats you’ve been wanting right?”

he nodded dumbly. “y—yeah but they’re expensive i don’t want you spending this much.”

“gumi money is a social construct.” you smiled. “but my love for you isn’t… it’s bible! happy anniversary!”

megumi looked down and slowly took the little grizzly bear out of the basket, everything you gave him absolutely perfect and filled with the things he loved, but the custom bear with the nickname you always called him— the same one he adored ever since you first said it, somehow pulling at his heart strings more than anything else.

“i love you.” he mumbled. “thank you.”

you beamed, leaning over and pecking his lips.

“because you do everything for me gumi.” you spoke. “i can’t thank you enough for the things you do for me… and i love you.”

a cute pink blush rose to his cheeks as his gaze stayed locked on the bear, feeling his throat closing up from how much you were affecting him at the moment.

he sent you a smile.

“can i give you mine?”

you stopped.

“what? i thought the pretty tulips were my gift?”

he snorted, giving you a look.

“no you dummy.” 

he reached under one of the seats, pulling gift bag after gift bag after gift bag from somewhere as he placed them all in a line in front of you, a shocked look on your face as you looked at the amount of tissue paper and packaging that was in your line of sight.

“holy shit.” you flashed him a growing dazzling smile. “are you— for me? actually?”

he nodded.

“guummiii!!” you flung your arms around his neck and pulled him in a tight hug, rubbing your cheek on his head side to side in a silly way before you let go and sat back on your ankles again, him chuckling at your excitement.

“i don’t even—” your eyes darted around. “i don’t even know which one—”

one by one you unraveled each wrapping and tore open each bag, your lap filling up with things that you fucking loved as you tried not to cry between opening each gift— pretty intricate coquette bottled perfumes that you liked to collect everywhere as you knew they were also a pretty penny (so him complaining about his cleats was dumb), cute mary jane pumps and makeup you needed as well as new that you’d been wanting, silver and gold sparkling jewelry that resided in small boxes and wrapped in pretty pink bows, sweaters and cute tops and just fucking everything as you ended up a crying snotting mess at the end of it anyways, him laughing at you.

because each item were things that you needed, things that you knew he couldn’t have possibly known unless he was truly paying attention to the things you were saying and the things you were looking at… this moment proving that he most definitely was.

and a crazy wicked amount too— because some of the items in front of you were even things you had merely mentioned once and done with, accompanied by others that you babbled on about whenever you could.

“gumi we can have sex right now let’s have sex i don’t care—”

he laughed for the millionth time and shot his hands out, literally trying to pull you off of him as you lunged and leaned your entire weight on him, practically fighting him by the end of it as you giggled and tried to get in his pants.

“you’re harassing me.” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“like you don’t do this to me everyday of my living life— eek!”

megumi bit your cheek and you pushed on his chest to get him away, him not budging as his nibbling travelled down to your neck as you gasped for air laughing at how much that was tickling you, and him knowing that was what usually set you off into a giggle fit, your stomach aching and him dodging your hits and swings, but both of your hearts full from a days worth of complete and utter unconditional love.

and neither of you would have it any other way as you shared the food and pastries you bought, stuffing your faces full of chocolates and mochi specifically as you both had insane sweet tooth’s and weren’t ashamed of it, chatted on about future plans and your excitement for megumi and the upcoming world series, and you elated for the holiday season too that was fast approaching, your little mind already thinking of gifts and plans and decisions because your boyfriend’s birthday was coming up as well.

and you wanted to do everything you possibly could to make it special.

for he made you feel that everyday.

especially now in this moment, the little heart shaped lunchbox cake you bought with ‘happy 2nd anniversary’ in cursive still looking fucking delicious even after you and megumi had just downed an entire pack of brownies, megumi lightning up the number two candle as you pushed it in the cake, and the both of you sweetly pecking lips as you held up the cake in between the two of you and him snapping a picture with his phone— candid and lovely and everything you’d both ever wanted in your lives rightfully yours right then and there.

happiness. love. 

and your hearts were swelling with everything you had built for the past two years, and swelling in anticipation for the hopes and curiosity of what else the two of you would continue to build… something you only hoped would last forever and ever and that you got to count and spend even more anniversaries with megumi from this point forward.

with nothing less, nothing extra, and just like this.

for a million more november’s to come.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @saelov3 @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @tsukuhoe @kayamor @lupicalbestwolf @therealkurapikakurta @amarahi123 @poisonharlivy @a-sorrowful-tune @amarraaxd @cheeseburgerr69 @sleepiibunniiii

[cuteniaarts]

Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl

17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019

[byoldervine]

How To (Realistically) Make A Habit Of Writing

To clarify: Works with my autism. WORKS WITH MY AUTISM!!! I’ve been meeting my goals since I made them my New Year’s resolution! Anyway I’m so sick of all those ‘how to’ guides that don’t actually tell you what the process is they’re just like ‘just do it, but don’t burn yourself out, do what’s best for you!’ because you’re not telling me what I’m not supposed to be burning myself out over but okay, so I made my own. Hope this helps

1. Choose your fighter metric. What works better for you as a measurement of your progress; time spent writing or your word count? Personally I get very motivated and encouraged by seeing my word count go up and making a note of where it should be when I’m done, so I measure by that. At the same time, a lot of people are also very discouraged by their word count and it can negatively impact their motivation to write, and in that case you may be better off working from how much time you spend writing rather than where the word count is

2. Choose your starter Pokémon time frame. How often can you write before it starts to feel like a chore or a burden rather than something fun you look forward to? Many people believe that they have to write daily, but for some people this can do more harm than good. Maybe every two or three days? Weekly? Figure out what fits your schedule and go with it

3. Choose your funny third joke goal. Now that you’ve got your chosen time frame to complete your goal in, what’s a reasonable goal to aim to complete within that time frame based on the metric you chose? If your metric is your word count, how much can you reasonably and consistently write within your chosen time frame? If your metric is time spent writing, how much time can you reasonably and consistently spend writing within that time? Maybe 1000 words per week works, or maybe 10 minutes per day? The goal here is to find something that works for you and your own schedule without burning you out

4. Trial and error. Experiment with your new target and adapt it accordingly. Most people can’t consistently write 1667 words per day like you do in NaNoWriMo, so we want to avoid that and aim somewhere more reasonable. If you feel like it’s too much to do in such a short time frame, either give yourself less to do or more time to do it in. If you find yourself begrudgingly writing so often that it constantly feels more like a chore than something fun, maybe consider adapting things. And if you think that you gave yourself too much wiggle room and you could do more than this consistently, give yourself more of a challenge. Everything needs to suit you and your pace and needs

5. Run your own race. Don’t feel like you’re not accomplishing enough in comparison to others or not working fast enough to satisfy some arbitrary feeling of doubt. Everybody works at their own pace and slower work doesn’t mean worse work. You could be on one word per day and you’ll still see consistent results, which is still one word per day more than you could originally count on. All progress is progress, regardless of its speed

[marbles-for-breakfast]

I mean, no one actually knows for certain how traumagenic systems form either. The theory of structural dissociation is pretty speculative when it comes to DID. We don’t know exactly what causes most brain differences. The brain is really complicated, and even when we’re able to pinpoint what about the brain causes the differences, the WHY of it is impossible to determine with any sort of certainty in the vast, vast majority of cases.

But aside from that, why do we need to know exactly how we formed in order to accept that this is how we are? Is it really so unbelievable that some people are just born this way? If being plural/multiple is something that can happen, which it obviously is, why are we so sure it can only be caused by one thing? How would you even prove WHY someone is plural/multiple? And if you can’t prove why someone is plural/multiple, how can you prove that all systems are caused by trauma? And if we can’t prove that, why are people so certain? Because it’s not from looking at the science.

So, does telling other people they’re not valid make you feel more valid? Does telling yourself a bunch of tumblr/twitter users are the reason you’re not accepted feel more manageable than grappling with the reality of society’s ableism? Are you simply in an echo-chamber of misinformation and demonizing of other perspectives?

I have an honest and non-judge mental suggestion for the asker here. If you really want to know what someone believes, ask THEM. I know endos can probably be a little hostile to anti-endos because of the whole telling-us-that-our-material-reality-is-fake thing, but I’m sure some people would be willing to be patient and respectful. A lot of us really do just want anti-endos to listen and try to understand. That’s why I try to come across as kindly as I can (even though people can read whatever tone they want into my words), and all I really do is try to explain.

I see some genuine questions on this blog, which makes me sad because I know they’re not going to find any answers here, so I try to give my own and I hope the original question-askers will see them. I just wanna have a genuine conversation where my own existence isn’t called into question or framed as a debate. I just want to refine my opinions and expand my knowledge.

I want to learn about my own system through talking to others. I can’t do that if the tag I’m using is filled with people trying to tell me that we must have some secret hidden trauma we have no evidence for, and if we don’t, we’re not real. Does no one think it’s a bad idea to tell someone who might very well have a dissociative disorder that they’re not real?

Just…. just listen to people when they tell you what their experiences are. That’s all I want. It’s all I ask. I don’t need to give you a source for my experiences being real. It should go without saying that in a space like this, we should believe each other when we talk about our lives. Why does that suddenly stop when it no longer fits the narrative you were told when you first learned about DID? Why is it unthinkable that what you first heard isn’t the full story? Isn’t that usually the case with stuff like this?

Anyway, the only way we’re going to move forward with our understanding of osddid and multiplicity/plurality as a whole is by first believing each other. Or at least being willing to believe SOME things. At least be willing to LISTEN. Again, that’s all I ask. Other endos/inclusivists who feel similarly, lmk. I want to get a sense for how many people feel this way.

this might be a rude thing to ask but i'm not even a system and i'm just curious like. how do endos think systems work? like. how would it form without trauma? spontaneously?

i don't know ... It's honestly confusing

[tokkiwrites]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After breaking up with your boyfriend of four years, you’re left heartbroken and desperate to leave it all behind. But as fate would have it, just as you’re about to walk out the door of his house, you run into his fatherㅡ the man who’s always lingered at the edges of your mind. the next sensible thing to do is fuck him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: pwp, bf's dad joel miller x f! reader, short description of toxic rs, fight scene, afab reader, i dont know if this is categorized as cheating :p , age gap, fingering f receiving, joel has a huge one but we alr know!, dirty talk, pet names, p in v unprotected, creampie, slight slapping and hairpulling.

✿ 🪽 𓈒 ﹫𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 ..＼ ♰ i have been neglecting you cute freaks, but i am here to feed you. behold! boyfriend's dad joel miller smut! around 2.6k words, so it's pretty short, but i hope you love it. not proofread!!!!! okay baiiii 😎🫶🏻

The fight tears through the house like a hurricane, each word leaving wounds too deep. "You never listen to me!" you yell, your voice raw and trembling. Your chest aches, your throat burns, but the word vomit won’t stop pouring out. "Four years, and it’s like I’m shouting into a void! Do you even care about us?"

"Do you even fucking hear yourself?" he fires back, pacing the room like he can’t bear to stand still. "God, all you do is pick fights! You always need something to be wrong. What the actual fuck?"

"Because something is wrong!" Your voice cracks, and the tears come faster now, hot and humiliating. You hate how small you feel, how desperately you want him to care. "I’ve been fighting for this, for you, and all you do is act like it’s a burden!" He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Maybe it is. Maybe you are." The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches, and for a moment, the room feels impossibly still. You don’t want to cry anymore, but the tears fall anyway, blurring your vision as you step back. "Fine," you whisper, your voice trembling. "If that’s how you feel, then we’re done. I’m done." He freezes, his expression shifting to something almost regretful— but not enough to stop him. "Fuck this." He grabs his keys from the counter and storms out without another word. The door slams behind him, the sound echoing in the quiet house.

For a moment, you just stand there, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you try to hold in the sobs threatening to break free. The silence feels suffocating, pressing in on you from every angle. You can’t stay here. You need to leave.

You grab your bag and wipe your face as best you can, hands still shaking. You tell yourself you’re fine, that the fresh air will help. But as you turn the corner into the foyer, you collide with something solid— someone solid. "Whoa there," a low voice drawls, steadying you with hands firm and sure. Your heart stutters as you look up and see Joel, your now ex-boyfriend's father.

Your breath catches in your throat. His hand is on your arm, warm and grounding, as his dark eyes search your face. His presence is like a balm, so different from the storm you just walked out of. He’s all quiet strength and rugged edges, his salt-and-pepper beard only making him look more like someone carved out of the earth itself. "Hey, sweet girl," he says, his tone warm and laced with that familiar twang. "What’s got you all worked up? You alright?" The sound of his voice is enough to break you all over again. You shake your head, the tears spilling over despite your best efforts to hold them back. You try to answer, but your words falter. All you can do is nod, though you know you’re far from alright. Not when his thumb is brushing lightly over your flesh, not when his scent— warm, woodsy, familiar— makes your knees fall weak. You can’t look at him, can’t look at the steadiness in his eyes or the way his hands ground you when you feel like you’re falling apart.

"Hey now," he says softly, pulling you into a hug before you can protest. His arms wrap around you, strong and safe, and for the first time all night, you don’t feel like you’re about to shatter. "C’mere, sweet thing. You gotta talk to me, mkay? What happened?" You press your face into his chest, breathing in hus smell that makes you feel like you’re home, even though you know you shouldn’t.

It’s absurd, really. You’ve always known he was handsome, but standing this close, it hits you differently. You’ve always noticed him in ways you shouldn’t, caught yourself glancing too long, wondering too much. And now, with tears still wet on your cheeks and your heart in pieces, he feels like the only steady thing left in the world.

"It’s over," you mumble against his shirt, your voice muffled but thick with emotion. "I broke it off with him. For r-real this time..." Joel pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands settling on your shoulders as his brow furrows. "You and him?" he asks gently, but you could tell he wasn't quite sure in your answer. "You sure ‘bout that?"

"Y-yeah..." You nod, your throat tight. "So you don’t have to... act nice anymore. You don’t have to pretend like you like m-me or care or whatever. It’s done now..." His expression shifts, confusion flickering across his face before something warmer takes its place. His lips part slightly as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

"Sweetheart," he says, his voice dipping lower, softer, like a secret meant just for you. "What the hell gave you the idea I don’t like you?" You blink up at him, stunned. "I just—"

"Little lady," he interrupts, leaning closer, his voice growing rougher, "it’s damn near impossible not to like you." Your breath catches as his thumb brushes over your cheek, his stare unflinching, as he examines your tear-stained face. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never noticed before—something unguarded, like he’s been holding it back for years. "Sweet thing like you," he murmurs, his lips quirking into the smallest of smiles. "Anyone with half a brain’d like you. But me? Hell, darlin’. I’ve liked you since the day I met you."

You step back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze fully, searching his face for any hint of pity, of kindness given out of obligation. "You don’t need to lie to me," you say, voice trembling. It feels like your heart is spilling out of you, breaking open right here in front of him. "Not just to make me feel better..."

Joel’s brow furrows, his dark eyes softening, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. A thread holds stretched taut between you. He doesn’t drop his hands from your shoulders, doesn’t let you pull away any further. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying you like you’re the most important thing in the world right now, like he’s trying to figure out how to put the pieces of you back together.

"What reason would I have to lie to ya now that you ain't with my sorry ass boy?" His voice is low, almost a whisper, but it carries a shiver down your whole body. You swallow hard, shaking your head. "I don’t know. I just—" You stumble over your own tongue.

Joel exhales slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes bore into yours. simmering, waiting to swallow you whole. "Darlin’," he murmurs, "Let me show you then." Before you can even think, he leans in.

The world falls away the moment his lips meet yours. It’s soft at first, hesitant, like he’s giving you a chance to stop him if this isn’t what you want. But when you don’t pull away and when you melt into him instead, your fingers clutching at his shirt, he deepens the kiss, large hands sliding from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer.

His lips are warm and sure, washing away any heartbreak you might've felt.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests gently against yours, his breaths mingling with your own. "Am I lyin'?" Your chest tightens, the tears welling up again, but this time they’re different. They’re not the tears of heartbreak—you’re not even sure what they are, only that they feel a little like hope.

"Mister Miller," you breathe, his name dancing on your puffy lips. He smiles, soft and a little sad, brushing a thumb along your cheek. "I got you, sweet girl. You just let me." and you crumble completely. with no hesitation, he picks you up, taking you to the nearest bedroom, where he closes the door behind.

it felt wrong. it was wrong. but the way he looked looming over, you got your head spinning in all the right ways. the bed pooled under you, sheets rustling as you watched joel discard part of his clothes. you nip at your lower lip, scooting your body upward to remove the pants you had on. in mere seconds, both of you are naked, gasping, and holding onto each other like nothing else mattered.

You finally get to see joel fully naked and you can't quite understand how a man his age looks the way he does, and how he's still single, given the package he's been blessed with. "you can stop starin' now. you wanna get me shy?" joel teases, his shaft now on full view for you to gawk at. you're taken by surprise when he so easily pulls you down towards him.

he trailed kisses down your chest like flowers fall from cherry trees in the spring, your body reacting in ways you didn’t know were possible. "Please hurry..." and he chuckles, maybe proud maybe amused to see you this desperate. "'m sorry, darlin'" You purr under his touch, wrapping around him like he's a lifeline. his lips crash against yours again, rough palm slipping into your wet panties. you gasp, the feeling so strange yet so familiar. he lets go of your lips, thick fingers working their way inside of you. Joels eyes meet yours, and he curls his digits, speed picking up. the sounds youㅡ your pussy made, were pure music to him, constant encouragement to go harder, faster, loving the way you looked crumbling onto his fingers. "got such a pretty pussy. Sure you ok with an old man ruin it for anyone else?" he asked it as if it was the least absurd thing he could say right now. you nod your head profusely. "atta girl. knew you were the obedient kind first time I saw ya."

"You gonna come?" Almost mocking you, but you could bot form the proper words. You just looked deep into his glinting eyes as your hand made its way to his hardened crotch. "P-pleasee..." Joel almost loses himself, but he's steady with his movements. "Wanna come on my cock, hm? is that what you beggin' for?" your folds drip and clench around him deliciously, you don't want it to end. and when you're almost there... he stops. you whine in protest but you're quickly put back in your place with a firm tug at your hair. "You take what I give you, girl. Now ass up." you comply. in a second, your back is facing him, red cheeks now hidden into his pillow. you try to balance yourself up with one arm, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"Spread 'em." And you do just that, pulling at your flesh. like an auction. only it's you presenting your cunt for fucking. "Fuck, look at that..." he tuts, gathering some of your juices on his pulsing tip, dragging it up and down your puffy lips. "Pretty girl. She cryin' for me, baby?" a string of fain 'yesyesyes' reaches his ear. hes quiet for a bit but the moment he pushes the tip inside you feel your knees buckle, all the strength you had left into your arms fluttering away. you fall face first into the mattres under you as joel pushes down your lower back. it hurts, but the pain is delicious. your moans feel the room, the occasional slap to your ass interrupting them. Joel is strong, fast and brutal, leaving you no room to breathe, fucking so deep into you you're sure he's way past your bellybutton. "T-takin' it so well, pretty girl, so well.." your skin burns where joel touched it, whole head fuzzy and empty. "pleasepleaseplease" as the whole bed shakes and strums to his movements.

your back arches as waves of pleasure break over your body like water on a shore. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, take it." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made. "been dreamin' about havin' you like this, baby. look at herㅡ" joel throws his head back, delivering a harsh thrust, the pain quickly melding into pleasure. "gonna come, hm?" he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." You don't know if you're crying because it feels too good or because of how long you've waited for this, no matter how unforgiving this could be.

eyes shot open when he roughly yanks your hair, your skin slapping on his being to only sound you can faintly make out in your dazed state. you let your whole body go, tongue lulled out as he takes out on you anything he might've been feeling. you were at his mercy, your moans irrefutable. your stomach flips and churns as that familiar feeling pools again in your lower tummy, and you were chasing it, crying. from what, you didn't quite know. maybe because you've never been fucked this good or maybe because it'll be over too soon.

the room was stuffy. "o-oh myㅡ god!" You yelp when joels speed picks up, shocked that he can go that fast, considering you've heard him multiple times complaining about his bad back. "shitㅡ i gotta come, baby. you gonna let me do it in ya? huh?" You nod your head so, squeezing around him like a ring, and he rewards you with a slap to your ass. "fuckin' slut." he laughs through breathy moans. you're holding on for dear life, reaching for anything your fingers can grasp at this moment. you're sure the neighbors are having a blast seeing the whole house shake. "that's it, girl. take itㅡ c'mon..." with a few more pumps his hips come to a halt, whole body trembling as he comes ropes inside of you. you let go, bliss washing over you, the ringing in your ears covering the soft curses escaping Joel's lips. steadying himself, he pulls out, voice cracking as he speaks again. "fuuck... baby, look at her." he smiles crooked, watching intently as his come drips out of you, cascading down to your thighs. you lick your lips, looking back and right up at him whilst spreading your legs wider.

"Don't do that. think I don't have it in me to fuck you again?"

you tease, "i don't know. do you?" and he laughs, pushing inside of you again, watching as your face contorts in pleasure. "Careful, girl."

you wonder when your boyfriendㅡ i mean exㅡ will come back home.