#will miss you mittsy

[suicidepokecheck]

(x)

[reallypleasanttree]

Obamitsu Modern AU short story I never published since I couldn’t figure out how to end/continue it.

Mitsuri watched her boyfriend, Roy, making out with another person. A flurry of emotions whirled in her chest. Pain, anger, rage, grief, disappointment, loss, and a multitude of others. How could he? 

They had been together for nearly a year. They had plans to go to France for their anniversary. She thought he was going to propose. Yet here she was watching him sucking on someone else’s face. She dropped her car keys, the metallic keys hitting the sidewalk. Her boyfriend stopped kissing and turned around to see her. 

“Mittsy,” he called out. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. I wanted to tell you,” he looked away. Tears threatened to leak. 

“Don’t call me Mittsy,” she said pointing a finger at him. “You don’t get to call me Mittsy anymore, not when you’re making out in a park with another person. We’re done.” She looked past her boyfriend to see one of his coworkers. 

“I was going to tell you,” he tried to speak again. 

“No!” Mitsuri screamed. “We had plans and you ruined them. We’re done,” she repeated and turned away. She bent down and picked up her keys. Her ex thought she was nothing. 

She walked to her car and got in. Luckily, her parents talked her out of moving in with him until they were engaged. She still had her own place, a studio with her cat.

She had several neighbors she got along with except the man that lived across from her. He never spoke to her. He just looked at her with his weird eyes-that was rude. She shouldn’t think that. Her irritation from her boyfriend-No, ex boyfriend was making her mean. 

Through the grapevine she found out her neighbor with the two colored eyes was named  Obanai Iguro. He talked to them, but never her. She vowed to make him her friend but made no progress. He would try to dodge her like she was a nuisance. 

Dang it! Mitsuri wanted to scream. She made it to her apartment complex and parked. Sitting in her car, Mitsuri started crying. She already had issues with her self worth and her ex just proved she was not worthy of love. He was cheating on her. When did it start? How did it start? Clearly, it’d been going on for a while because he planned on telling her. She rolled her eyes. 

How did she miss that his long workdays were code for an affair? That was textbook cheating behavior. Only she blindly believed him. She was an idiot, too in love to notice the way he smiled at his cell when he got a text. Or the times she would find him sitting in his own car talking on the phone. Or the time he went on a work retreat but when he came back he only had pictures of him and his one coworker. 

That made her scream. How had she been that stupid? They had been wearing swimsuits and the coworker was wearing a bikini. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She screamed again and hit the steering wheel. 

“You should have second guessed him. You idiot girl!” Her voice raised as she gritted her teeth. Mitsuri yelled. 

A knock on her window forced her to twist her head around. She saw a masked man looking in at her. Great, this guy. The man who never spoke to her. Maybe he was going to call the police to remove from her car for disturbing the peace. She rolled down the window. 

“What?” She snapped, uncharacteristically. 

“You’re screaming in your car on a Sunday afternoon,” Obanai said, not looking directly at her. He had several cloth bags full of groceries over one shoulder.

“You’re rather observant aren’t you?” She hissed and glared at him. His eyes widened briefly, looking down at the concrete. 

“No need to be rude,” he muttered, his eyes shifting towards her. 

“That’s rich coming from you. You’ve never spoken to me and now that I am disturbing you, you suddenly decide to talk to me,” she fumed. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” 

Obanai adjusted one of the cloth straps. He looked down at his feet. Her rage dampened as she recognized the way he bent in his head. She heard him mumble something. 

“I’m sorry. I just saw something really upsetting. What did you say?” Mitsuri said, lowering her voice. His eyes remained on the ground. 

“It’s fine. Do you want to talk about it or just scream in your car?” Obanai offered. She closed her mouth. Why was he talking to her now? After ignoring and actively avoiding her for months. 

“Why? You hate me,” Mitsuri said. His nose wrinkled and he looked up at her with his different colored eyes, not quite making eye contact.

“I don’t hate you. I have a hard time talking to people,” he said quietly. “I don’t mean to come off as rude.”

Mitsuri tilted her head. His hair was pulled back into a bun and she could see his ears and cheeks turning pink. So, he was just shy…? 

“Oh,” she said. There was a short silence between them before she remembered why he was standing here. She gritted her teeth. “Let me get out of my car.” He nodded and stepped back. Mitsuri rolled up the window and stepped out of her car. Standing beside him she realized she was a tad taller than him. He cleared his throat. 

“Do you want to talk? I could make you some tea or coffee,” Obanai offered as he fidgeted. It took her a second to process what he said. He was inviting her over.

“Umm, yes to tea,” Mitsuri agreed. He turned and headed towards their apartments. This was unexpected. She followed him into his apartment. Its layout was exactly like hers. A galley kitchen across from the entry, a large living room with a brown couch, hanging bookshelves, and papers laid out over the coffee table. He had a circular table with four chairs set up by the kitchen. 

“You can sit wherever you like,” Obanai said pointing to the table and couch. He set the grocery bags down on the countertop before turning around to start boiling water on the stove. “I have green, black, or jasmine tea. Which one would you like?” 

“Jasmine please. Do you have any honey?” Mitsuri asked. He nodded. She walked to the couch before sitting down. It was comfy. 

This was a weird turn of events. When she woke up this morning she didn’t expect to be sitting in her antisocial neighbor’s living room after breaking up with her cheating boyfriend. Maybe she should get a lottery ticket too. She grabbed a tissue off the coffee table and blew her nose. How could she be so stupid? 

In the kitchen, she heard cabinets opening and closing as Obanai unloaded his groceries. Minutes passed as he prepared the tea. Eventually, he walked into the living room with two steaming cups of tea and a jar of honey. He set the cup and honey in front of her. 

“Thanks,” she said and offered a small smile. Mitsuri opened the jar and spooned an unhealthy amount into the cup and stirred. He didn’t bat an eye as she did do. 

“So, what happened?” He asked as he pulled off his mask. She had never seen his face before. He had pale skin and soft dark pink lips. His complexion was smooth and pretty…? Almost. “I have bad allergies,” he offered when he saw her perplexed look. 

“Sorry for gawking, I just never saw you without the mask,” Mitsuri said, flustered. 

“It’s fine,” he sat down on the lounge chair across from her. His lips twitched before he looked in her direction waiting for her response. He never met her eye. 

“I saw my boyfriend kissing another woman,” Mitsuri said without hesitation. “I went to the park for a jog and saw them making out on a bench. It was his coworker.” Obanai’s eyes narrowed. “I screamed at him and then drove home. That’s why I was screaming in my car,” she shifted in her seat. 

“I am an idiot. He worked long hours and would stay in his car after he got home saying he had a business call. He lied about who he was texting, I’m sure too. I was too stupid to see the signs. Too blind with love I guess,” she scoffed at herself. Fat tears rolled down her face. 

“He’s the idiot, not you,” Obanai said plainly like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her lip trembled. “Was he the one with red hair? I saw him a few times and he looked like a pompous jerk,” he said. 

“He wasn’t really,” she paused. “Well, maybe, when we went back to his hometown he said he felt sorry for his old friends. They never left their hometown he said he couldn’t hold a decent conversation with them… that no one challenged him,” she coughed. She remembered the pointed look he gave her then. Had she really been so blind? 

“We were together for a year and had plans to go to Paris in two months,” she explained. “I just don’t get it. Why did he keep dating me and making plans when he had her?” She grabbed another tissue to dab her tears. 

“He said he wanted to tell me. Just tell me! I know I look weak, but I’m not. What the fuck? Oh sorry, I shouldn’t have cursed,” she said and held her hand to her face embarrassed. Obanai smiled at that. 

“No need. If you curse that means I can curse too. Fuck that asshole,” Obanai said. She laughed. His tone was so serious. 

“Fuck that asshole,” she repeated, finding a sense of comradery with her antisocial neighbor. She flashed him a smile and he returned it with a small pursed lip smile. She took a sip from her mug and set it down on a coaster. 

“You know what the worst part is? I’ve never had a relationship where I wasn’t cheated on. Am I that dumb?” She rubbed her eyes with her jacket sleeve. Obanai leaned forward and grabbed a tissue to offer her. She took it with a nod. 

“Am I that ugly? Fat? Bad? What is it that makes me so unlovable? Or am I just that easy to pull one over?” She shifted in her seat. Her green eyes trailed down to her knees. She still had to run today. 

“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” Obanai spoke up after a moment of silence. “You’re none of those things. Usually when someone cheats it’s a reflection on them. Not you, so please don’t talk yourself down. He’s the asshole who doesn’t deserve you.” Mitsuri glanced up and saw his hand clenching the mug so tightly it was white. “He’s not the brightest either. He actively chose to cheat when he had you.” He gritted his teeth and stared into his mug. “You deserve someone better than him,” Obanai finished as his cheeks tinted pink.

Slowly, Mitsuri nodded. She had not expected this. To be sitting in her neighbor’s apartment, dishing out her love life with a man who she previously thought despised her. Now he was telling her she deserved better and validating her. She gave him a small smile. They continued talking until his friend called an hour later. 

“I’ll call you back in a few minutes,” Obanai answered the call and then hung up promptly. Mitsuri stood up, knowing it was time to leave. He had his own life to get on with instead of listening to her gab on about her cheating ex. 

“Thanks for the tea,” Mitsuri said. 

“It’s nothing,” the dark haired man said, standing up. He bit his lip. “You looked like you needed someone to talk to. If you ever need someone to vent to, you can come over. I work from home, so I’m here most of the time,” Obanai added. 

“I’ll take you up on that,” Mitsuri agreed. “Can I ask why you never talked to me before now? I thought you hated me,” Mitsuri admitted. Obanai shook his head. 

“It’s complicated,” Obanai finally commented. “You remind me of someone I cared for years ago. When I saw you it brought up old memories that I wasn’t ready to deal with,” he looked up now, meeting her gaze. “It’s me, not you.”

Mitsuri laughed, “I think that’s the only time I’ll ever accept ‘It’s me, not you,’ as an excuse.” It earned her a grin. “Since you don’t hate me, do you want to be friends?” Mitsuri asked

“Yes,” he answered immediately. “Friends is a good start.” They exchanged numbers before Mitsuri went back to her apartment. Her heart lighter from her talk with her anti social neighbor. She looked at her phone to see countless calls from her ex. 

“Fuck that asshole,” she murmured as she deleted the call log. She put in Obanai’s contact info and sent him a message. 

Mitsuri Kanroji: thanks for the talk. 

Obanai Iguro: no problem

[mkcannothelpyou]

Play Mittsy for Me (Kafka-Robin-Whisperain)

AK/Kinktober 2023, Day 4: “Mitts”

Barring a corridor fly-by with a half-asleep Medical op, the "Movie Night is Changing Venues after Whisperain Asked Can We Move This to Her Room" gang safely Moves It to Her Room, where both guests take a seat on the bed. Ooh, nice place here.

"Kafka," Robin hisses after a while of staring down at her lap and looking like she's shaking apart from the inside. "Quit looking at stuff."

"Where d'ya want me to put my eyes, then? A Kafka's gotta look somewhere," Kafka hisses right back, both keeping it low while Whisperain's in the bathroom undoing her harness.

"Just don't… I dunno, steal anything or something."

"C'mon, that's not the Kafka MO. Besides, what's gotcha watchin' out so hard? It ain't even your stuff."

"Yeah, but it's hers, so!"

Probably filled with nerves from not wanting any rudeness to the nice lady, Robin grabs both Kafka's hands and clasps her claws firmly shut around them. Kafka actively does not appreciate the gesture, alternately prising each forceful paw off while the other reestablishes a grip. "Yannow, it's gonna take more than that to—"

"You may want some assistance to keep her hands contained," preempts a gentle voice from the other side of the room. Kafka halts the grappling, looks over, Robin turns to follows suit. Whisperain's emerged from the bathroom with goodies in tow.

"Are, um, are those boxing gloves?" Robin asks, quickly following it up with "Uh, waitwaitwait, of course not. Um?"

Kafka simply chirps "Watch," shakes Robin off and scoots over some inches so Whisperain can get in close. "Ya sure you don't need these for a patient, Miss?"

"No," Whisperain affirms, softly but adamantly. "The sick should not be made to feel that their treatment comes hand in hand with disrespect—it would crush anyone to be taught that. There are other options in any scenario…" As she speaks, one mitten is affixed, buttoned and tested for a tight fit in moderation, followed by the other. "I assume you're familiar with these in a… recreational setting, Miss Kafka."

"Yeah, somethin' like that." Kafka gives an experimental flex of the fingers, free with a full range of motion inside the mittens but unable to project any grasp through the containment. "Saw 'em in a club once. Anyways, Kafka's happy to report she cannot get her funny li'l hands out."

"Oh, good…" Seems that's a genuine relief to Whisperain. "Well, then, Miss Robin, if you would care to test her?"

"Test? Her? Oh, uh, huh. Guess I could." It's kinda funny to watch Robin hop from confusion to conviction in the span of a few seconds.

Wait, that's not conviction Kafka likes. "Hands offa me."

"The whole freaking point was keeping my hands on you," Robin grumbles, quickly pushing her down by the mitts—okay, shoot, these stupid things are ACTUALLY restraining Kafka and the wrist's way too sturdy to pop the button. She's not getting her hands back in any good way here.

Whatever, still got the entire rest of her body! Kafka kicks and writhes and attempts a headbutt or two, tosses to and fro and even tries bouncing up on her momentum, then has to catch her breath a moment. She's quickly discovering this lockdown on her wrists is giving her no real freedom to bend any which way. Seriously, is two points pinned all Robin needs to get someone this bad?

"Quit… enjoyin' this!" Kafka's beginning to get irate herself. There's a crooked smirk growing on Robin's face, subtle, but it's there and it stinks of satisfaction. "Man, I woulda tried suckin' up to you tonight if I knew you were gonna get this vengeful!"

"Literally, I'm not doing anything, Kafka. You wanna just give up?"

"Aw, screw you and your bodyguard training!" Kafka wriggles a little more, but mittens down against the mattress and options gone, the best she's got is sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry.

"…"

A few silent seconds later, Robin sticks out her tongue back. "Okay, NOW I've got it out of my system. Thanks, Miss Whisperain," she says to the nice lady, clambering off.

"Of course. Are you alright, Miss Kafka?"

"Ugh." Kafka sits up mostly steady, although she feels like she almost has to dig her mitts out of Whisperain's bed. "Right as rain. Gonna be honest, that was intense, but I'm ready to get outta these already. We gonna put a thing on Robin next?"

"I imagine if we were taking turns, then it would be hers now," Whisperain chuckles.

"Oh, come on! …Okay, I guess fair's fair."

[acidicus]

For the song thing, what do you have for Bruise?

Oh man where do I start

“Insight” - Mittsies“You Can Call Me Al” - Paul Simon“Windows” - Missing Persons“Side To Side” - Ariana Grande ft. Nicki Minaj“You’re Still The One” - Shania Twain“Whataya Want From Me” - Adam Lambert“I’ve Been Thinking About You” - London Beat“Honey” - Mariah Carey

I highly HIGHLY recommend you give each song a listen in any order tbh

[euroadvantures]

Onwards. We finally managed to drag ourselves away from Ariates and our beach holiday with new van pals Emily, Ross and Bess. It was a wrench as we had such a relaxed couple of weeks, and saying goodbye was quite emotional. However, we learned a valuable lesson – it’s ok to stop. As you know, previously we had stayed on the move almost constantly. A day or two in each place.

            Having a break was much needed and allowed me to reflect on the trip so far and think a little bit about the future. We have to return to the UK in August for my work. I did contemplate not doing so but the same things apply as when we left: I have a job that I enjoy mostly; I miss my friends and family; I need to sort my back out (it is increasingly painful at the moment); and I miss my cats Ninja and Mittsy very much. In order to spend more time doing this I need to think seriously about all of the above.

We left our “holiday” knowing we had to be in Fuengerola this weekend coming, and to try to get to Nerja before our friends Si and Laura returned home at the end of the month. The plan was to go to Bolonia for a few days, Tarifa so I could get some diving in, and a couple of other spots on route. However, as ever, things take time. Particularly as Spain gets warmer.

Driving in the van for more than a few hours isn’t pleasant, particularly for the dogs. We also had laundry to do, shopping and servicing (getting water and emptying the loo). Add on to that a trip to Decathlon for some running shoes for Si and two different places near Conil de Frontera over the weekend, we finally arrived in Bolonia yesterday evening.

Bolonia is a few miles from Tarifa, the southern most tip of Spain, just west of Gibraltar. It boasts miles of golden beaches, a few restaurants and bars, and the famous Dune of Bolonia. There is also a Roman ruin which is said to be the best preserved outside of Italy. We are camped in a large field with a few other vans to the east of the main stretch overlooking the sea and with a beautiful mountain backdrop which looks like something out of the Sound of Music. Yesterday the field was visited by a herd of very large cows, horses and several roaming dogs (Scooby was very good with all of them). It’s windy but warm and to be honest I don’t want to move today. Maybe a stroll along the dunes towards Tarifa where, Si tells me, there are numerous empty beaches and a swim in the sea so the Dune of Bolonia and the Romans might have to wait until tomorrow. Which means that we will probably drive straight from here to Fwengy (as Emily calls it) on Friday. We can loop back round after we’ve done our visiting and do the bits we have missed en route. Estapona has been recommended for the murals and street art, there are a few places in land that we want to see including the Camino del Rey, and now we are beginning to realise, these things shouldn’t be rushed.

Consequently we have revised our plans. It’s unlikely we will leave the Iberian peninsular before we have to head homewards. In fact we may not even leave this field. Greece and Italy will have to wait for another time.

Love

Saira

The Wheels on the Bus go round Again… Onwards. We finally managed to drag ourselves away from Ariates and our beach holiday with new van pals Emily, Ross and Bess.