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mrsshabana · 1 year

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Patient!Gyutaro x Nurse!Reader - CHAPTER 1

Chapter 2

✦ CW: 18+ MDNI, female reader. Mentions of mental illness, suicide, and sexual abuse of a minor. This fic has many dark themes, please do not read unless you are comfortable!

✦ AN: The long awaited nurse au is finally here! Sorry it took me so long, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect. Lots of thought and research went into making this fic. There will also be art included in this chapter!

✦ WC: 2,146

This is what you should have expected from a job in the medical field that didn’t require much qualifications. Working at an asylum wasn’t ideal, but they are incredibly desperate for new nurses. As most of them are unable to handle the physical and mental toll that a place like this puts on someone.

It’s your first day at your new job. You were excited until you entered the building. The dreary interior mixed with the groans and screams of unruly patients wasn’t the welcome that you had been hoping for.

You’re young, almost too young to be working at a place like this. The other nurses didn’t take you seriously, and they were going to make the transition for you more difficult than it needed to be. You were being assigned to a patient that is notorious for being difficult to work with. The other nurses use him to weed out the weak. Always shifting the new hires to care for him. They usually leave within the first week, so his care returns to one of the veteran nurses known for having a mind of steel. She’s cold hearted, but that helps you deal with a job like this. The complete opposite of you. A warm young woman, eager to treat and rehabilitate.

Currently you are being led to your new patient. Quickly scanning over his records as you follow the nurse through the halls of the sanatorium.

Rashomon Riverbank Asylum

Patient Record

Name: Shabana, Gyutaro

Identification Data: Sex: Male Age: 23 Height: 6’ 3” Weight: 134

Race: Asian Hair: Black Eye: Blue

Special Handling Code: Code Red; Keep medicated Special Handling Instructions: Keep away from sharp objects

Medical History: Multiple suicide attempts, Complications due to sickle cell anemia, Treated for Congenital Syphilis

Diagnoses: Sickle Cell Anemia Hutchinson’s Teeth Borderline Personality Disorder Antisocial Personality Disorder Depression Insomnia

Current Medical Treatment: Special diet for weight gain Medications given AM & PM

Medications: Wellbutrin - 100 mg twice daily Abilify - 10 mg once daily Carbamazepine - 350 mg twice daily Xanax - 2 mg twice daily Trazodone - 150 mg once daily Voxelotor - 500 mg once daily Adakveo - 5 mg IV infusion once every 4 weeks

Gyutaro Shabana, your very first patient at Rashomon Riverbank Asylum. Looking over his record, this is going to be a difficult one. You’ve learned about a majority of these diagnoses in college, so you have a good idea about the kind of treatment he will require. It’s strange though, he seems to have lost the genetic lottery. And you haven't even seen his face yet, you can only imagine what he may look like.

An asian man with sickle cell anemia is almost unheard of, roughly 0.0022%. And on top of that he was born with Congenital Syphilis. It’s quite frankly amazing that he’s lived past 20.

“Just introduce yourself, then I’ll take you to your other patients,” the other nurse says as she stops in front of his door.

Not wanting to be impolite, you hesitantly knock on his door. There’s no response. You figured that there wouldn’t be, so you open the door anyways.

“Hello, Mr. Shabana?” you say coyly.

When you peek into the room, you are instantly frozen by his icy gaze. He’s sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. His cold blue eyes send shivers down your spine.

“I’m um… I’m your new nurse.” you choke out. He’s feet away from you but you feel as though his hands have a tight grasp around your throat.

“My name is Y/N. Um… If you ever need anything d-don’t hesitate to call for me…”

The expression on his face is unchanging, as he remains silent.

“Well I’ll see you later tonight Mr. Shabana…”

Closing the door, breaking the line of sight that he had on you, instantly you feel a surge of relief.

You go on to visit the rest of your patients, then you come back later that night to give Mr. Shabana his dinner. A high protein meal, specifically for weight gain.

Knocking on the door a few times before you push it open, “Mr. Shabana, I have your dinner.”

He’s in the same spot where you left him, sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. But this time he doesn’t even bother to look at you when you enter the room.

Stepping closer to place the food tray on his table, you inspect his appearance.

His clothes hang off of his frame, enveloping his skeletal body. You can make out lean muscles on his arms, but his face is sunken and his pants hang low on his hips. There are large black marks scattered across his face, and you can barely see one peeking out from below his sleeve. Were these marks from his Congenital Syphilis? Dark circles sit below his eyes, he looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks.

He’s wearing the standard issue uniform that all patients wear. A plain t-shirt and pants, made of the same material as scrubs. Though his feet are bare, slippers sitting below the edge of the bed. His hair is long and wavy. Black as midnight, unruly in the way it hangs in front of his face. The top of his hair is half haphazardly tied up.

“Got a problem…?” He rasps, drawing out each word.

The venom of his sour tongue sends a jolt of electricity through your skin.

“Huh?” you’ve been sitting there staring at him for too long, “O-oh! I’m sorry sir! There’s no problem, please enjoy your dinner,” you quickly rush out of the room.

As you continue on giving food to the rest of your patients, Mr. Shabana’s voice echoes through your skull.

Got a problem…? Got a problem…? Got a problem…?

A few hours later, you go back to retrieve the tray and whatever food may have not been eaten. Stopping yourself before you open the door. It’s ok. He’s just a patient. Then why does he make you so nervous?

*Knock knock*

“Hello Mr. Shabana, I’m just here to collect your tray,” you chime, masking your fear with a smile.

Walking back into the dimly lit room, the fluorescent lights flickering. His eyes staring into you.

His food has been untouched. The only thing that was eaten was a packaged cookie.

“Not hungry today?” your voice shakes as you try to ignore his harsh gaze.

He remains silent. Watching you as you step closer. The buzzing of the fluorescent bulbs filling the room, filling your brain with static.

“Was it not to your liking? I can have the cooks make something else for you if you’d like.”

“...”

Your eyes meet. His thin eyebrows furrow, the rest of his expression remains unchanging. The pressure of his glare makes the air around you feel heavy. Pressing down on you, compressing your spine, you feel so small when he looks at you. You’re desperate to fill the cold aura with some warmth.

“Mr. Shabana you really should eat-”

*CRASH*

He slaps the tray out of your hand, food splattering onto your uniform, dripping onto the floor.

Silence. You’re stuck staring down at your feet. Watching the pool of meat, vegetables, and milk spread around you. It takes you a few moments to fully process what has just happened, only able to snap out of it when you feel the wetness of the food seeping through your skirt, making you feel cold.

You regret looking up at him. Regret meeting his eyes. Filled with amusement.

“You better clean that up… don’t chu think…?” He smirks. Showing his sharp canines and crooked teeth.

“I-I…” you mumble, looking back down at the mess. He’s right, you should clean it up before it gets everywhere.

Going into the hallway, you grab some towels and return to his room. Not thinking your next actions through as you get down on all fours and start picking up the mess. All you want to do is hurry and clean this up so you can leave. But Mr. Shabana has different plans.

He slowly stands up. Looming over you, looking down on you with a twisted grin. He’s so tall… he makes you feel so small as you look up at him. So pathetic. So worthless.

“You look good down there…” he steps on your hand, “On your knees like a whore…”

His words leave you speechless. Your vision begins to blur and your heart starts to race. He pushes his weight further onto your hand, until you feel a crack.

“I’d like to see you like this more often…” he chuckles, the sound rumbling in his hollow chest.

Every instinct within your body is screaming at you to run. But you feel so trapped. So paralyzed by him. Like a rabbit cornered against a wall by a vicious predator. His eyes. It’s his eyes. No, it's his touch. It’s… everything about him.

You try to speak up, but your words escape you. Coming out in a pathetic whine that makes his grin widen and his laughter intensify.

He’s reaching for you. His hand is coming towards your face. Your mind is telling you that if you let him get any closer you will die. He will kill you. And he won’t even care.

Your body is pumped with enough adrenaline for you to break free from the physical and psychological hold he had on you.

Pulling your hand away from under his foot, you push yourself backwards. Stumbling to stand up on your feet. You run out of the room and through the halls, not risking looking back at him. All you hear as you escape is his laughter on repeat. You can’t tell if his laughter is echoing through the halls, or if it has just been ingrained into your mind.

You keep running until you get back to the nurses quarters and to your room.

Tears running down your cheeks, food staining your clothes, and pain throbbing in your hand. You collapse on the floor and cry.

Why would he be so cruel? You understand that he’s a patient and has a list of mental illnesses, but you were trying to help him! You can’t even remember what you were doing or why you were in his room. All you remember is him and how he made you feel. His stare. His voice. His touch.

Fuck him and fuck this job.

Clambering over to your desk, you immediately start writing your resignation letter.

You don’t get paid enough for this shit. All you wanted to do is help people, and you get repaid with this? It’s just not worth it. Through your sobs, your tears fall onto the page as you hastily move your pen on the piece of parchment in front of you.

There. It’s done. You’re done.

You won’t have to see this place, see him, ever again once you submit this letter.

Looking around your desk, searching for an envelope. You come across a thick manilla folder. The tab on the side reads, Shabana, Gyutaro.

Something compels you to open it. You already skimmed through his information, but you never looked at everything here.

His psychiatric notes? From his psychiatrist? These shouldn’t be in here… you shouldn’t have access to this confidential information.

But if you’re leaving anyways… then there’s no harm. Right?

Shabana, Gyutaro - Dr. Hantengu

August 14

Childhood trauma starting since birth

Single mother, no father

Raised as a female. Mother would dress patient as a daughter. Would cover up his deformities with makeup. (Feelings of worthlessness, not belonging)

Sister born at age 6 (turning point in patient’s life)

Mother cast aside patient for sister. (When he learned he was actually a boy. Feeling of confusion. Child cannot comprehend)

Sexual abuse started at age 10

Mother was a prostitute, would offer children to adult clients.

Patient record, “She would bring men into our house… and let them touch us. (long pause) They wanted my sister. They wanted to do bad things to her. So I… (patient gets upset) I would offer myself to them. I would perform sexual acts for them so they would leave Ume (sister) alone.”

Sexual abuse continued until age 15

Mother died of overdose. The children were left in the home for over a week until someone found them.

Children taken to orphanage.

Patient held in orphanage for 8 months until incident.

Brought to Asylum at age 16

End of first session

You are left speechless.

Reading his records reminds you of why you wanted to be a nurse in the first place. To help people that have gone through trauma such as this. He didn’t lash out at you because of something you did. It’s not your fault. And it isn’t his either. He just needs help.

And you will be the one to help him.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #nurse au #nurse reader #gyutaro fanart #kny fanart #demon slayer fanart #hantengu

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fantasyescapes17 · 11 months

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Wings (Part 2)

Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Genre: Mingyu x Female!reader. Regency!AU .You are Jeonghan's sibling so your last name is Yoon but the reader has no other physical characteristics.

Warnings: Discussions of social anxiety, smoking (don't smoke kids, the characters in this story are from a time when they didn't know how bad it was for their health)

Word Count: 5k+

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Series Masterlist [You WILL need to read Patience, the earlier installment in this series first in order to understand the character dynamics in this story. Reading Candle before this is also strongly recommended.]

Your mother's habit of playing cards at Mrs. Patty's home multiple afternoons per week provided a convenient opportunity for Mr. Kim to call on you and impart his wisdom.

Despite your ankle not being fully recovered, you were in dire need of some fresh air. Mr. Kim was kind enough to lend you an arm so that you could hobble down into the garden and sit down at a bench for your first mentoring session.

Your sister-in-law the watchful chaperone, sat underneath an oak tree not far away, just out of earshot and with a book in her hands.

"Well, Miss Yoon," Mr. Kim began. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a single rose attached to a long stem. "In celebration of our new courtship, I thought perhaps you might like one of these."

Your eyes widened as he handed you the flower.

"O-oh," you said shyly, taking it from him. "Thank you."

"Of course, a mere rose is nothing compared to your famed beauty, but I suppose we must give the rose some credit for trying," he continued smoothly.

Your cheeks turned hot at his bold words. Mr. Kim had a playful smile on his face but you turned your gaze away from him, unable to meet his twinkling eyes.

He chuckled and leaned back on the bench.

"I see we have a long way to go," Mr. Kim noted. He spread his arm out on the benchrest behind you. "Allow me to begin today's first lesson. Flirtation is nothing but a game, Miss Yoon, and the sooner you see it that way, the sooner you will be able to master the game and not allow it to overwhelm you."

You swallowed and nodded. "I see."

"This game,” he continued, "is lost the moment you allow your opponent to render you genuinely flustered- as you are now. Do you consider yourself to be more beautiful than a rose?"

You blinked in surprise at the sudden question. "No, no, of course not-"

"Well, you should. Before entering into a conversation with a gentleman, you must first consider yourself to be the most beautiful, precious, magnificent creature that walks this earth. Your vanity must be so enormous that nothing the gentleman says can truly flatter or embarrass you."

You stared at him in disbelief. "Mr. Kim, that sounds very strange and rude. Young ladies are supposed to be humble."

Mingyu tsk-ed. "And how has humility helped you thus far?"

"Not well," you admitted quietly. "But vanity does not seem a much better option."

"Doesn't it?" he challenged you. "I want you to say out loud I am more beautiful than a rose."

"I cannot possibly-"

"Humour me, Miss Yoon. I am more beautiful than a rose," he repeated. "Say it."

You took a deep breath. This felt rather nonsensical, and you were beginning to doubt whether Mr. Kim Mingyu was entirely right in the head. But your sister-in-law was sitting not far away and if she trusted him, then you would try to do what he asked.

"I am more beautiful than a rose," you mumbled.

"Louder."

"I am more beautiful than a rose," you repeated, with a little more volume. Your hands were fidgeting in your lap and you were avoiding Mr. Kim's gaze.

"Once more."

"I am more beautiful than a rose."

"Look at me when you say it."

You forced yourself to look into Mr. Kim's dark, twinkling eyes. He seemed to be delighting in your discomfort. There was a hint of annoyance in your tone when you repeated the phrase again- it was empty words coming out of your mouth now, and seemed to be losing its meaning.

"I am more beautiful than a rose!" you said firmly.

Mr. Kim nodded. He leaned a little closer to you, his dark eyes never wavering from yours.

"Miss Yoon," he said softly. "You are more beautiful than a rose."

You did not even blink.

He leaned back and grinned triumphantly. "See! You were not flustered or shy when I said it this time! You could perhaps have looked a little less irritated, but we will address that problem separately. The point remains- I paid you a flirtatious compliment and you were not embarrassed.”

"That is not because I believed it to be true!" you protested hotly. "It is only because you made me say it so many times that it was less surprising!"

"Repetition breeds familiarity," Mingyu explained to you simply, "and with time, familiarity can blend in with the hard truth."

You blinked at him. "By which you mean to tell me that I should repeat this strange compliment to myself until I grow confused enough to believe it."

"Precisely."

You sighed and looked up at the handsome gentleman sitting beside you. He was onto something, certainly, but you were still not convinced that this would solve your problem.

"Your methods are rather strange, Mr. Kim," you mumbled.

Mr. Kim did not seem offended. He merely smiled and flashed his perfect teeth at you once more. His easy-going and playful nature made it much easier for you to be more open in the way you spoke to him.

"You will understand in time, Miss Yoon. You only need to trust me. Allow me to give you another example. Your dress is blue."

You raised an eyebrow at Mr. Kim and looked down at your gown- indeed, you were wearing a pastel blue summer gown. You looked back up at him and nodded.

"Yes," you said warily. "I suppose it is."

"The blue in your dress makes you shine brighter than the sun," he continued with a teasing smile. You were well aware that Mr. Kim was trying to elicit a reaction from you this time- but you could not help it. The flirtatious words said in his deep voice caused you to break eye contact with him and avert your eyes shyly.

"I-thank you," you said quickly, but you knew it was too late. You had lost.

Mr. Kim raised an eyebrow. "It is your turn to tell me why one of those statements elicited a different response from you than the other."

You sighed.

"Because the first one was something I already knew to be true, and the second was something that I didn't really believe," you admitted.

Mr. Kim beamed. "Excellent!"

"I think I understand the point you are trying to make," you told him patiently. "In order to not be flustered or caught off guard by compliments I must indulge my vanity and consider them to be true. Then I will be able to receive the compliment more calmly."

"Correct. In short, I want you to be more confident," Mr. Kim affirmed. He stretched his arms out in front of him lazily and leaned further back in his seat. "Enough of that. Now- tell me what went wrong on the night of the Duchess of Graham's ball."

You bit your lip. "I would rather not relive that nightmare."

"You must if we are to assess how to prevent it from happening again," he pressed gently. "Perhaps you should take some time to think about what triggered your anxiety that evening. But I will not overwhelm you with too many lessons in a single sitting. Once your ankle is healed, will you join me for afternoon tea at the teahouse near the assembly rooms?"

You nodded, relieved that he was not pushing you further. "Yes- I should be glad to."

"Then I shall leave you with an assignment to complete in the meantime," Mr. Kim said with a smile. He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a small sheet of paper. "Stand in front of the mirror and read each of these out ten times before you go to bed."

You took the paper and unfolded it. It contained a list of flirtatious sentences- ranging from simple, realistic ones such as You are the most beautiful woman in the room this evening to more bold and outrageous ones such as The light in your eyes is brighter than the twinkling of all the stars in the night sky.

You stared at him in disbelief. "Mr. Kim! You cannot be serious!'

"Repetition breeds familiarity," he reminded you. "What you hold there is my most precious collection. I do not give it to you lightly- many bachelors of the ton would kill for a glimpse at that sheet. I hope you will keep it safe."

You frowned and tucked the paper away. "I assure you; your collection of rehearsed compliments is quite safe with me."

"Then we shall meet soon. At the teahouse."

Mr. Kim bid his goodbyes and left before your sister-in-law approached you. Her book was abandoned on the grass and her eyes looked a little drowsy; you had a sudden feeling that perhaps she had been napping under the tree instead of reading.

"Well?" she asked. "How was your first lesson with Mr. Kim?"

"I cannot tell if he is brilliant or mad."

She laughed.

"A common problem with men," she said as she took your arm to help you back indoors. "But I am sure everything will reveal itself in time."

—------------------------------------------------------------

You dutifully completed the assignment Mr. Kim had given you. You stood in front of your mirror once the rest of the household had gone to bed, and recited the compliments on his list. It felt silly at first, but you were surprised by how quickly you grew used to them.

Mr. Kim Mingyu was a strange man indeed, but he was right about one thing- repetition caused familiarity which made you more comfortable, and less nervous, with the idea of a gentleman saying these words to you. You began to daydream of a handsome, faceless gentleman whispering these sweet compliments in your ear….

But of course.

There were other problems to surmount.

"Mr. Kim Mingyu?" your mother demanded with a displeased frown. "He has asked you to have tea with him at the teahouse, you say? What do we know about this young man?"

"I have heard he is an only son," you said anxiously. "And that he has a very large estate near where the Chois live."

Your mother huffed. She turned to your sister-in-law, who was sitting at a table nearby and silently writing a letter. "And you?" your mother asked her accusingly. "What do you think of him?"

Your sister-in-law looked up and blinked. "I have heard that Mr. Kim is a rake and has a bit of a gambling problem."

Your eyes widened. Her plan had been to encourage this fake courtship with Mr. Kim, not give your mother a reason to oppose it! But you discovered moments later that your sister-in-law was far cleverer than you.

"Nonsense," your mother said. Her pride would not allow her to agree with your sister-in-law on any matter. "Perhaps he has simply not found a woman captivating enough to retain his attention- and what young man does not play a little cards for entertainment? I think it is perfectly acceptable for you to meet him at the teahouse this afternoon."

"Thank you, mother-"

"But I will chaperone," your mother said firmly. "You may sit at a different table but I will be keeping my eyes on this Mr. Kim."

You sighed. "Yes, mother."

Your ankle was fully healed but still a little stiff when you finally made your way down to the teahouse with your mother. Mr. Kim was waiting by the entrance and he made a grand gesture of kissing your gloved hand.

"You look quite radiant this afternoon, Miss Yoon," Mr. Kim greeted you with a handsome smile. The phrase was one of the lines from his sheet, and you were more amused than embarrassed at the sound of the familiar words.

"Thank you, Mr. Kim," you replied politely.

"And Mrs. Yoon- of course, madam, you must permit me to say that it is very evident where your daughter gets her unrivalled beauty," Mr. Kim flattered her. Your mother was highly susceptible to flattery of this nature. She giggled.

"How very kind, Mr. Kim. I see you are quite the polite young gentleman!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Yoon. May I seek your permission to have a cup of tea with your daughter?" Mr. Kim asked.

"Of course- you may both find a table for yourselves. I shall be nearby, I see Mrs. Grisham and Mrs. Hessington over there…"

Your mother left to join some older women at their table and Mr. Kim led you to another table near the wall; it was still within sight of your mother, but well out of earshot. He gracefully pulled out your chair for you.

"You received my compliment well," he noted with a grin.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "I had heard it so many times before. It was on your sheet. I am sure you knew perfectly well that it would not affect me."

"I was merely testing to see if you completed my assignment," he replied lightly. He sat down across from you- Mr. Kim was almost too tall to fit in the dainty little chairs and miniature tea tables at the teahouse. His long legs were forced to stretch out awkwardly to the side. You held back a giggle as he poured you a cup of tea.

"Something amusing?" he asked.

"Not at all."

He opened his mouth to question you further, but he was interrupted by a sudden commotion from the nearby table of older woman. There was a loud exclamation from your mother and the women seemed to be discussing something with great excitement.

"I wonder what that is about…" you mumbled.

Mr. Kim placed your teacup in front of you calmly. "I would not be too concerned. I imagine they have just discovered the news of the Duchess of Graham's engagement to Mr. Kwon Soonyoung."

You blinked. "Mr. Kwon Soonyoung? I have never heard of him."

"Neither have they. That is what makes it so shocking," Mr. Kim told you with a chuckle. "But we have more important things to discuss. Have you thought more about what went wrong at the Duchess' ball? I heard that you were dancing with Mr. Lee Seokmin when you stumbled and injured yourself."

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "It was not Mr. Lee's fault."

"Then tell me what happened. Let us try to understand it together."

You took a deep breath. You had been thinking about it for the past few days, as unpleasant as the memory was to you, and had come up with a few conclusions.

"I think I was overwhelmed by the grandeur of it all," you admitted shyly. "It was so magnificent and the other young ladies all looked so beautiful. I began to worry that I should make a mistake, or make a fool of myself, and then what should happen to my sister-"

Mr. Kim interrupted you. "Your sister?" he asked in surprise. "I should have imagined you would fear your mother far more."

"I do fear my mother," you whispered. "But with my sister, it is…"

Mr. Kim waited silently for your response.

You took a deep breath and sighed. "My sister has put her marriage with Mr. Choi on hold for my benefit. Everything she has ever done has been to ensure my happiness, and it distressed me to think that she should have to suffer any longer than necessary. If I do not find a husband this season, then my sister will not be able to marry Mr. Choi."

Mr. Kim took a sip of his tea and nodded for you to continue.

"And… and I had always thought it was simply a matter of having a successful debut and choosing the most eligible man that would have me. But when it came to actually standing in the room, surrounded by so many fashionable people and all the grandeur and all the eyes watching me I began to realise it was not going to be as easy as I had thought. And that led to the worry that perhaps I would embarrass myself and be unable to make a match, and what that would mean for my poor sister…”

Mr. Kim cut you off. “It seems to me that all your spiralling anxious thoughts escalate with the fear of disappointing your sister.”

You nodded reluctantly. “That may be true.”

“Then the solution before us is simple,” he replied. “Or, at least, as simple as a solution can be without considering the complexities of executing it. We must prevent you from thinking of your sister while in public.”

You stared at Mr. Kim as he picked up a large slice of lemon cake and took a generous bite from it. He silently offered to put another slice on your plate but you shook your head.

“How can I not think of my sister?” you demanded. “She is the entire reason I am here!”

“That manner of thinking is what is causing your anxiety to spiral out of control," Mr. Kim told you matter-of-factly. "You need to live in the moment. Stop tracing every small action back to your sister and your fear of disappointing her."

"How do I do that?'

"Think smaller," he replied. "For example- why am I here?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Here… in this teahouse?"

"Yes."

"To help me practise interacting with gentlemen so that I can find a husband by the end of the season?" you guessed.

Mr. Kim sighed. "Correct, but no. The purpose is to think smaller. I am here because I like the lemon cakes they serve here," he informed you simply before taking another bite. "Delicious."

"That is…"

"Think small."

"But I cannot always control my thoughts!" you protested. "They often go off on a tangent of their own. How long can thoughts of things I do not care about like lemon cakes ward off the looming dread that comes from thinking about failing my sister?"

Mr. Kim rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He leaned back in his seat and you watched him for a long moment, having nothing to do except sip your tea and admire his handsome form while he contemplated a solution to your problem.

"What if…" Mr. Kim began slowly. "We found a backup thought- a safety net of sorts? Something pleasant that you could force yourself to think of whenever you find yourself spiralling into anxiety-inducing thoughts of your sister?"

You bit your lip. "Such as?"

"You have to find that for yourself. Look for a memory; something that makes you happy. Preferably one that does not involve your sister," Mr. Kim added.

You took a deep breath and thought hard. You'd had a sheltered childhood and spent most of your time at the Yoons' countryside estate with your parents and siblings. It had been a quiet upbringing and you could not think of a single moment that brought any immense happiness.

"When I was nine," you said finally after much thought. "My Father bought me my first pony. I named her Chocolate."

Mr. Kim burst into laughter.

"Chocolate the pony is what you came up with after so much thought?" he demanded with another loud laugh. Your cheeks suddenly felt hot and you stiffened from embarrassment.

"I-I could only-"

"I presume Chocolate was a brown pony?" he continued to chuckle.

The embarrassment was too much to take. Your entire face had now turned hot and your lower lip trembled as you stood up from your seat with a frown. "If you are going to laugh at my expense, Mr. Kim, then I will not sit here."

His smile fell. Mr. Kim hurried to jump to his own feet- it took him a moment since his long limbs were tangled under the tiny tea table. He took your hand and gently guided you back to your seat.

"No- of course not. I am extremely sorry, Miss Yoon. I did not mean to laugh at you."

You stiffened. "But you did laugh."

"I am extremely sorry."

His expression was genuine. You cleared your throat and sat down again, as Mr. Kim hurried to refill your teacup from the pot and handed you a plate with a slice of lemon cake. You accepted it silently and he gave you a small smile.

"I see you do have a sense of pride," he commented lightly.

"I will not be ridiculed."

"I am glad to hear it," he promised solemnly. "Let us come back to the topic at hand. If Chocolate the pony is a thought that makes you happy, then so be it. Whenever you are in danger of feeling overwhelmed, I want you to close your eyes and picture the moment your father presented you with this pony. The pony will be your happy thought."

You nodded. "I… can do that."

"We will test this the next time you are stressed," Mr. Kim suggested. He leaned back and sipped his tea, noticing that you were not eating. "Do you dislike lemon cakes?"

You looked down at them disinterestedly. "Not particularly," you said. "I am not hungry at all. My ankle feels rather stiff in this position. I wish it was possible to walk around instead of sitting still."

Mr. Kim nodded. "We could walk up the street- the weather is pleasant today. But your mother would have to permit you."

"I will ask her."

You went up to your mother's table- the older women were still deeply engaged in gossip about the Duchess of Graham and you had to tap your mother's arm a few times before she would even notice you.

"What?" she demanded irritably. "Can you not see that I am in the middle of a conversation?"

"I was only wondering if I might go for a stroll outside with Mr. Kim-"

"Yes, yes, don't go too far," she said dismissively before turning back to the conversation. Mrs. Patty was loudly making an emphatic point about how it was a terrible mistake to grant daughters their own titles. You turned to Mr. Kim and waved at him to signal that you had obtained her consent.

Mr. Kim opened the door to the teahouse and offered his arm to you. You both began to stroll slowly down the busy London street.

"So," Mr. Kim continued. "Is there anything else that went wrong at the Duchess of Graham's ball?"

You nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. While I was dancing with Mr. Lee, there was a lull in the conversation. I could not think of anything to say to him so I made a foolish faux pas- I asked him if he had any siblings although I already knew he was the Viscountess' brother."

Mr. Kim smiled. "Ah- yes. The art of polite conversation. How to speak constantly and yet say nothing valuable. That is an entire lesson of its own and I am afraid even I cannot impart that skill to you in a single day."

You pouted at him. "Then you condemn me to pass my dances at every social event in silence."

"Conversation is an art, Miss Yoon. But you are fortunate that it is not always necessary to converse in order to communicate. Humans were communicating long before the invention of spoken language."

You frowned up at him. "What does that mean? Must I gesture at my dance partners as though I am speaking to an animal?"

Mr. Kim laughed. "No. Instead of the art of conversation, you will have a much easier time if you learn the art of silence."

"Silence?"

"As long as you do not look anxious or panicked," Mr. Kim explained patiently. "Silence can be a very useful tool. Most gentlemen love to speak. You simply need to prompt them to lead the conversation. A few one-liners such as That was terribly interesting, do tell me more! or I am very interested to learn more about you and the average gentlemen will be happy to take the burden of speaking off your hands."

You nodded thoughtfully. "You must write down some of these one-liners for me."

Mr. Kim chuckled. "All right, I shall prepare a list for you to study. And, if all else fails, you may resort to the golden three."

"The golden three?"

He lifted three fingers. "Hunting, horse-riding and croquet. I have never met a gentleman who did not enjoy conversing extensively on at least one of these subjects."

You nodded. "That is helpful."

"My purpose is to serve," Mr. Kim replied playfully. You had both reached the end of the street. Mr. Kim reached into his coat pocket to extract a small notepad and make a note of your discussion- when you saw something peeking out of his coat.

"Are those cigars?" you asked.

He looked down at his pocket and nodded. "Oh-yes. I was going to go down to the gentlemen's club for a smoke later."

You looked up at him with a curious glance; could you count on Mr. Kim's discretion? After all, he was in a fake courtship with you and clearly your sister-in-law trusted him enough to keep that secret. He had made you comfortable enough to open up to him about your deepest thoughts.

Surely one more secret couldn't hurt?

"Can I have one?" you asked hesitantly.

Mr. Kim looked down at you in confusion. "A cigar?"

You nodded.

"Whatever for?"

"To smoke, naturally."

Mr. Kim glanced furtively around the street and then lowered his voice. He seemed mildly concerned, but also amused. "Miss Yoon, I am sure you do not require me to inform you that young ladies do not smoke in public- and they certainly do not smoke cigars."

You turned away from him with a sigh. "If you do not want to give it to me-"

Mr. Kim looked torn. He glanced up and down the street once more to make sure nobody was looking at you both before taking your arm and steering you towards a narrow, deserted alleyway. Your eyes widened.

"Mr. Kim!" you hissed. "We shall be caught if we leave the main street. Or do you wish to end up in a scandal like Mr. Jeon and Miss Hong-"

He brushed your concerns away lightly. "Mr. Jeon is a good friend of mine but his inexperience was his downfall. I am not quite so careless- you are safe with me," he promised. Once you were both alone in the deserted alleyway, out of the view of the main street, he took the cigar out of his pocket.

"Are you sure?" Mr. Kim asked you.

You nodded.

He carefully lit the cigar and held it up. "It is not at easy as it looks," he told you firmly. "Place it to your lips like so and take a deep breath through your teeth. You will almost certainly cough the first time-"

You snatched the cigar from him and placed it expertly between your lips. You took a long, satisfying drag and held the smoke in your lungs for a moment before smoothly exhaling.

Mr. Kim stared at you for a long moment before the corner of his lips turned up and he let out a small, disbelieving chuckle.

"That," he said with a grin, "was not your first cigar."

"I never said it was."

"You must forgive me if I am surprised, Miss Yoon, that a young lady who claims her happiest memory is Chocolate the pony knows how to smoke a cigar designed for gentlemen," he said, sounding almost impressed. Mr. Kim folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall of the alleyway as he watched you take another drag.

You exhaled before frowning up at him. "You will not laugh at Chocolate."

"I am not laughing at all."

The tobacco relaxed your nerves and you quickly stepped away from the smoke before putting out the cigar. Mr. Kim was watching you curiously and you felt self-conscious under his gaze. You could almost read the questions in his dark eyes.

"My father used to leave his cigars lying around," you explained, your cheeks warm. "One of the stable boys taught me how to smoke them."

Mr. Kim's eyes widened in absolute delight. "A stableboy?" he gasped, pretending to look absolutely scandalised. "Miss Yoon!"

You flushed deeply. "That is not-"

"Is that why Chocolate the pony is such a pleasant memory for you? Because of the stableboy?" he laughed. His eyes sparkled playfully as he watched you compose yourself.

You frowned. "You will tell no-one. Once we step back onto the main street you will never mention Chocolate, cigars or a stableboy ever again," you ordered. "Especially not to my brother or sister-in-law."

Mr. Kim beamed. "I am sworn to secrecy, my lady."

"Good."

You both slipped back onto the main street and turned back towards the teahouse. Mr. Kim kept glancing at you out of the corners of his eyes- he seemed to be unable to take his gaze off you, and you suddenly began to feel rather flustered from the attention.

You noticed a large, modern building coming up on the opposite side of the street that had large sheets covering the entrance.

"Whatever is that?" you wondered.

Mr. Kim tore his eyes away from you and turned to look at the building. The corner of his lips curved up in a smile.

"Interesting that you should notice that," he said lightly. "That building belongs to me."

"Does it really?"

He nodded. "Indeed. It is an art gallery that I decided to fund not long ago. It should be open to the public in a few weeks' time."

You looked at him in interest. "An art gallery? I did not know you had artistic inclinations, Mr. Kim."

"I consider myself a… patron of the arts, so to speak. I would be delighted to invite you to the grand opening of the gallery once we have announced it."

"I would be delighted to attend," you replied. Then you paused. "Provided, of course, we are able to resolve my crippling anxiety and fear of social events in the meantime."

Mr. Kim grinned as you both arrived back at the teahouse. Your mother was waiting for you inside.

"I think it is time we put some of your lessons into action," he said. "The Hessingtons' ball is on Saturday; I intend to see you there. You may reserve the first dance for me."

You nodded. "I should be glad to."

Mr. Kim reached for your gloved hand and lifted it slowly to his lips as his dark eyes rose to meet yours. You saw his usual playfulness and a hint of something far darker behind those eyes. He kissed your hand and his lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary before allowing it to fall.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

No wonder they called this man a rake.

"Goodbye for now, Miss Yoon," he said quietly before turning away down the street and leaving you in a foggy, confused and flustered state.

—--------------------------------------------------

#mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #regency!au #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #mingyu fanfiction #mingyu x you

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yaksha-lover · 2 years

Note

Hello hello!

Hi again from me!

Since my last ask, I've... well safe to say, am very in love with it that I've read it more than I could remember and in the midst of my nth time reading it... I once again came up with an idea. Not much of an idea when it just a request of a 2nd part of it but yeah...

If you don't mind me requesting this (you could juat ignore this if you don't feel like doin it tho)

So, since Mal and the tweels are planning to rescue our kidnaped Mc. I have an idea where they found where the kidnaper was and when they arrived there MC... was... well, not safe. Since in my opinion kidnapping can induce a heavy mental stress and kidnapers... well, they can be very violent. So I would like to see how the vampires react and comfort MC who just hugged them in the midst of them beating up the kidnaper and begged them to just go home while trembling violently and unable to stand from all the mental and physical stress they had in this incident.

And how the 3 would react after the incident itself XD

Just tell me if I'm asking too much cuz I'll try and hold back next time I want to send you a request

Hello! Sorry this took some time for me to get to. Hope you like it!

Part 1

You get Kidnapped Pt. 2 - Malleus, Jade & Floyd

cw: kidnapping, implied violence

Malleus:

Malleus, who is normally very mellow, would absolutely lose himself to anger if he saw you hurt in any way. Even if you just seemed shaken up, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting rid of the threat to your life.

When you cling to him, begging for him to stop, Malleus becomes terrified for a whole other reason.

If you became scared of him, he doesn’t know what he’d do. He’s used to being intimidating to others, and being isolated because of it, but you’ve never feared him.

Lilia came with Malleus to rescue you, and he’s the one who will stay behind and deal with the kidnappers so Malleus can take you away from this stressful situation.

As soon as he made sure you were out of danger, he holds you so, so tight. If you looked at him with any fear, it would break his heart. He reassures you that he would never hurt you, never.

He’d offer anything he can think of that would make you feel better. Warm bath? Food? To be held? He’s getting it for you.

It would definitely hurt him if you asked for distance, but he would also understand and stay away for the time being.

He would still check on you silently and from a distance, or get someone else (Lilia or Silver) to go see you in his place. Malleus would be quite paranoid after what happened to you.

Overall, I think Malleus would keep himself small and controlled around you, especially directly after it’s happened.

You would need to reassure him that you’re okay, that you still want to see him, that you’re not afraid. With your words in mind, he’d mostly return to his normal behaviour around you, albeit much more protective.

It might frustrate you, but he won’t let you go outside without him or Lilia anymore. Even the other residents, he doesn’t trust them to be strong enough to protect you from all the terrible things Malleus knows is out there.

Jade & Floyd:

The twins, Floyd especially, aren’t used to having others object to their ways too strongly. Mostly they know the tweels will simply ignore them.

Jade has stood back, allowing Floyd to get out his more violent impulses first, but he freezes when he feels something grip tightly around his waist. He relaxes when he realizes it’s just you, but he becomes increasingly concerned at your behaviour.

You’re shaking and crying, even while he’s got you in his arms. Surely you know you’re safe now?

Still holding on to Jade, you cry out for Floyd to stop, pleading with him for all of you to leave.

Floyd hesitates for a moment, looking over at you from his place. The sight of his bloodied hands make you recoil further into Jade’s chest, hiding your eyes.

For the first time, you hear Floyd call out to you by your actual name. Although he’s caught up in the moment, as soon as Jade tells him to back off he will.

The tweels are able to work together seamlessly. Normally Floyd is reluctant to listen to anyone, even his brother, but this time he’ll do as he says.

If you’re too shaken to walk, Jade will pick you up bridal style and carry you to safety while Floyd deals with the remaining threats before quickly following after you and his brother.

The two of them will respect your wishes for once. If you want to be left alone they will do so, but if you want them there neither will leave your side.

Even if you wish to be alone, they stay near you from a distance, always there to step in if you need help or comfort. Inevitably Floyd will get bored and wander off, but only because he knows Jade is there to watch over you.

If you want them to stay with you, you’ll find that they will be uncharacteristically gentle with you.

They’ll insist you stay in their room, at least for that night. They’ll push their beds together, and you’ll be able to have one of them to protect you on both sides.

They will try to distract you from the previous events, watching a movie with you on the tv in their room.

Floyd will still tease you, but in a way you think is oddly sweet. He even settles down contently at a point, once he’s got an arm around your back.

Jade occupies your other side, holding your hand comfortingly.

Throughout the movie, you notice that the two of them will keep stealing glances at you. Just like Malleus, you’ll need to reassure them that you aren’t going to fall apart.

Regardless, your kidnapping has changed the nature of your relationship with the tweels.

Floyd’s change will be more obvious, with him being more physically affectionate with you, pulling you into his side whenever he sees you. His teasing continues, but he is gentle about it, focusing less on making you uncomfortable and more on getting a blush from you.

Jade is more subtle, but he will be much more observant of you, noticing your smallest changes in moods. His offers to listen to your woes become much more genuine than before, and they will now be accompanied by an offer of a night of comfort together with him and Floyd.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd x reader #twst jade x reader #malleus draconia #jade leech #floyd leech #twst malleus #twst jade #twst floyd #twisted wonderland vampire au #twst vampire au #twst #twisted wonderland

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leeprtt · 5 months

Text

Passionate and dangerous

Summary: me and my best friend had similar prompts and let’s just say it ended up very interesting…… also it’s 3 am please forgive us both it’s a nanami x reader and a gojo x reader there is smut but only in the first story and there def was an AI involved idek

Cw: Jealousy, dom!nanami kento x reader, slapping, choking, overstimulaton, edging, name calling, oral

Story 1

As y/n flirted shamelessly with Gojo, Nanami's best friend, she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She knew that Nanami had eyes only for her, but she couldn't resist the thrill of catching his attention. Little did she know that her actions would lead to a heated confrontation between the two men.

One evening, after a particularly heated argument between Gojo and Nanami, y/n found herself in the middle of a physical altercation. Gojo, enraged by her flirtatious behavior, had lashed out at her, leaving her with a bloody lip and a black eye. Nanami, who had witnessed the entire ordeal, was furious.

As y/n stumbled home, bruised and battered, she could feel Nanami's presence behind her. She turned around to see him glaring at her with a mix of anger and desire. Without a word, he took her by the hand and led her to his car. The ride was silent, but the tension between them was palpable.

As soon as they reached Nanami's apartment, he pushed her against the couch and began to spit in her mouth. y/n was taken aback by his sudden aggression, but she couldn't help but feel aroused by his dominance. Nanami slapped her hard across the face, leaving a red mark on her cheek. y/n moaned in pleasure as he continued to spit in her mouth, his fingers digging into her hair as he pulled her closer.

Choking her lightly, Nanami forced y/n to swallow every last drop of saliva. She could feel his cock growing harder against her thigh as he continued to choke her, his fingers digging into her flesh. y/n was overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure and pain as Nanami edged her mercilessly, leaving her on the brink of orgasm for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Nanami plunged his cock deep into y/n's mouth as she writhed beneath him. He fucked her mercilessly, spitting in her mouth once again as he came inside of her. y/n could hardly breathe as Nanami continued to choke and spit on her until she passed out from exhaustion.

When she woke up hours later, she found herself bound and gagged on Nanami's couch. He stood over her with a wicked grin on his face as he continued to edge and tease her mercilessly. y/n could hardly think straight as Nanami called her names and forced her to beg for mercy. In the end, it was only through his mercy that she was finally allowed to come again and again until they both fell asleep exhausted but satisfied.

As they lay together in bed that night, y/n couldn't help but feel grateful for Nanami's jealousy. It had led them both down a path of domination and submission that neither of them could have ever imagined possible. And as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, they both knew that their love for each other was stronger than ever before.

Story 2

As Nanami, Gojo, and y/n embarked on a mission for Jujutsu High, they encountered a horde of cursed spirits that seemed almost impossible to defeat. y/n found herself in the thick of the battle, her heart pounding in her chest as she dodged and weaved around the spirits.

But then, something went wrong. One of the spirits managed to get too close, and y/n felt a searing pain in her chest. She stumbled backwards, gasping for breath as she realized that she was dying.

Gojo saw what was happening and rushed over to save her. He used his powerful techniques to fend off the remaining spirits and carried y/n to safety. As he held her in his arms, he realized that he couldn't bear to lose her.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize how I felt about you sooner," Gojo said softly, his eyes filled with emotion. "But I can't imagine my life without you now."

y/n looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. She had always loved Gojo from afar, but she never thought he could feel the same way about her. Now, as they lay together in Gojo's arms, she knew that their love was real.

Over the next few weeks, Gojo and y/n grew closer than ever before. They trained together, fought together, and even slept together. y/n couldn't believe how lucky she was to have found love with such an incredible man.

But their happiness was short-lived. One day, they received news that a powerful demon had appeared in Tokyo, threatening to destroy everything in its path. Nanami and Gojo knew that they had to act fast if they wanted to save their city.

As they battled the demon, y/n found herself in danger once again. This time, it was Gojo who saved her - using his incredible powers to fend off the demon and protect his beloved. In that moment, y/n knew that she would do anything to keep Gojo safe - even if it meant sacrificing herself for his sake.

In the end, they emerged victorious - but not without scars. y/n had been injured during the battle, but she didn't care. All she could think about was how lucky she was to have such an amazing man by her side. As they lay together in bed that night, holding each other close, they both knew that their love would only grow stronger with each passing day

#jjk nanami #jjk #gojo satoru #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #send help #jujutsu kaisen #it’s bad #tired #jjk smut #nanami smut

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ravilson23 · 11 months

Text

New ep of Helluva Boss just came out and i actually want to talk about that one. I didnt even bother with the third one cause somehow I didnt have any strong feelings about it. Anyway, lets start.

First of course pacing. I was really suprised how fast we got into the main action, it starts literally a minute into the episode. We didnt even get a proper introduction of Andrealphus ( or however his name is written, i will just call him Andre) and its his first offical apperance. Its quite insane honestly. I really think it might have been better to do this in some other episode where plot would be focused on the divorce. It feels like they didnt know how to start this whole assasination businnes.

Also for me he seems... really boring? There isnt anything about him that we havent seen before. I dislike how Stella was portrayed too. She may have gotten a bit dumber than at the beginning, i mean she cares so much about killing Stolas that she isnt even thinking logically. Its a little weird when you consider how loveless their marriage was, it doesnt look like she has strong enough reason to hate him this much.

Another thing, her relationship with Andre seems as normal as it can be in hell. I hoped for some emotional manipulation or other toxic behaviour that may explain why Stella is such a bitch. But hell no, there was nothing super weird about them though it may be because there were shown for like 2-3 minutes in the whole ep. On one hand i am glad he is not ( at least yet) another villain, but still he felt important enough to get a proper introduction.

What also bothered me about pacing was the structure of plot A and B. Especially in the fight scene where they are paralleled. Its not a bad thing per se but it dissolves the tension. It also felt like there was no need for plot B except for keeping Blitz occupied and unable to rescue Stolas.

Now lets talk about characters. First Moxxie, as much as i am glad that he became a badass i cannot help but feel like it should have happened in 3rd ep. Him fighting his dad would be so much more powerful than dealing with three random guys on gus station and fighting Striker with Millie. This change would feel more natural. I am not saying he is weak, but his skills were mostly with guns, not physical violence. But in this ep he suddenly is very capable of that, he is also less anxious and more reliable (which is a good thing, thats the development from ep 6). Despite all that i was still suprised.

Both Blitz and Stolas feel pretty much in character, so i wont talk much about them. I just wanna say that i liked them. I am kinda sorry that i wont sing praises, even though there was some good stuff but there is still much to cover.

So lets talk about Striker. Oh boy, not gonna lie watching him sometimes felt like fever dream. I dont know if its so bad that its hilarious or just hilarious, i really cant say. First his sudden apperance in the middle of a restaurant with a whole crowd of witnesses, than his theme song. THEME SONG. I am crying, its just so ridiculous. Its a pretty cool joke but also so surreal. Like up until now it feels like writers tried to find a reason for adding songs. Be it jingles, intros or full stage performences the songs were always a part of an actual action. However here its more of a montage, and it can be barely counted as sth else thanks to a few lines in a dialogue. As i said, not sure if its genius or just bad. Then we have all the jokes about Strikers ego, its not out of character, but it also feels like he stopped being anything more. At first he was a genuine threat and someone who Blitz could have chose to be. Here he still tries to be, but cant because of all the jokes. The big dick statue went too far for me. Its also becoming too repetitive. However i really liked when he started choking Moxxie, he looked really wild with all the drolling. It made him look feral, which is cool. The harder joke also caught me of guard. Last thing about Striker, he is well animated. It may seem obvious but i feel like its really not, especially not in season two.

I dont have much to say about Millie, Loona and Stella. Really, my only thought is that Stella looks kinda weird in this ep. Her head feels to big, especially when Andre is next her. Fortunetly Loona and Millie look alright.

Short note about worldbuilding, it gets more and more messed up. What at first looked like nice little clues for creating a bigger picture now is more like random stuff mixed together so they can pretend to be whole. Hell looks more and more like a structured society with jails, hospitals, offices and so on and yet it makes it hard to ignore how absolutely insane this idea is. At first hell looked like a total lack of rules, then we got some info that IMP using Grimouir is illegal, then human disguises, lawsuits and even jail which overall makes an impression that there is some law. But what is this, how does it work? No idea whatsoever. Then we have hierarchy with imps being at the very bottom of it. Now it seems like they arent really so different if they can afford places like Asmodeus or restaurants Stella is willing to go to. Blitzo having a bussines was a big deal but nothing really came out of it. Also whats with their sizes?? They can be as big as Loona or small enough to fit in a bag. It gets more and more confusing. I wont even talk about Moxxies dad, an imp being a literal mob boss ( mafia exists in hell???). Its all a right mess.

Another thing thats is a mess is a quality of sound design and sometimes animation. I felt so disconected from fight scene in this episode because music didnt fit at all. The tension that should have been there went and never came back. Though the animation was gorgeous. However its not so pretty in many other moments where anatomy of characters becomes a mere suggestion. Sometimes the problem is in proportions, sometimes in perspective but also how some scenes are connected and how the mood isnt appropriate for the overall action.

But since we are getting to the end of this post, let me tell about some good things. And by that i mean the end scene. Its really good, it made me feel what i have felt while watching first season. It was emotional but in a quiet, honest way. We got some small gesture that was meaningfull in a context. We also got some explanation about what happened after Ozzie (a little too late, but better than never) and in such a way that i can appreciate. I like small clues, that u have to focus on to fully understand whats happening. Its one of the things that got me into Helluva, it was fascinating to use small things to create bigger pictures. I loved that, and i wish there was more of that in this season.

To finish, i think the biggest problem of this season is that it doesnt know how to build up on what was shown before. It got lost with all the characters, dramas and possible plots and in the end lost the core idea that was at the beggining - IMP bussines. Now it rushes into different plot points and mucks up most of them because of that. It also doesnt give us anything new? First ep was a sensation with mixed response, but despite other ones having important moments it never got up anywhere near the excitment that started with 5 ep of season 1. I really miss that feeling but i am losing hope that Helluva will return to its former quality and charm.

If u read all of this, thank u very much. :3

#helluva boss #english is not my native language #helluva disscussion #helluva spoilers #helluva critical

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anti-dazai-blog · 1 year

Text

In honor of this blog’s One Year Anniversary, here are my top 3 BSD theories (in order of most to least likely)

[spoilers for the current arc of the manga]

Theory 1– Albert Camus, the author of The Stranger, will show up within the next few chapters.

Look, we’ve been in Meursault for a while now. We’re all in agreement that Meursault is named after Meursault, the protagonist of The Stranger, right?

I’ll take this theory a step further and say that Camus will use his ability to restore Meursault to its original (undamaged) state. It’s very impractical to have security measures that destroy large portions of the prison, unless, of course, the prison can be restored quickly and easily.

Additionally, it doesn’t seem like it would be too much of a stretch to say that by restoring the prison, Camus can fix the elevator Dazai is currently stuck in and falling to his (improbable) death. We have seen abilities being able to work so long as they’re surrounding Dazai without touching him directly (as seen when Nikolai teleported him out of his cell, and in the 15 Light Novel when Rimbaud extended his ability underneath the ground so that Dazai wouldn’t be touching it). Either way, we know there’s no way Dazai is dying in an elevator crash, and I’d really like to see a Camus Ex Machina.

Theory 2– Higuchi’s ability.

I’ve seen a lot of theories floating around regarding what Higuchi’s ability might be. Although most of them are really good, I personally think a lot of them are too powerful to make sense to introduce this late into the story. There would have to be solid justification for why Higuchi doesn’t use it in battle, or why she isn’t sent out to fight the more dangerous enemies of the series.

However, Higuchi’s primary job is combative, and although I’m not entirely sure what her job is, she seems to be higher ranking than the Black Lizard, and she’s able to give them orders. So her ability is most likely something that would be helpful in combat.

Which is why I’ve reached my theory that Higuchi’s ability is Pain Nullification.

Pain is a very important sensory response because it lets you know you’ve been injured and you should be careful. Many wounds are survivable so long as you treat them soon enough and don’t aggravate them more after receiving them. But what if you weren’t aware that you got injured in the first place? What if you kept fighting with stab and bullet wounds? You’d most likely bleed out quickly, and although you might not die (depending on how severe the wounds are), you would at least pass out.

[the following paragraph has facts taken from a bunch of google articles, so most of it is semi-plagiarized, I am not smart enough to know any of this off the top of my head]

There are people born with the condition called CIPA (Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis) which prevents them from feeling pain. Most people born with this condition do not live past the age of three, and half of them die from overheating. If the body cannot sense heat, it will not be able to produce sweat to combat the heat. In short: it is very, very dangerous to be unable to feel pain.

She may also be able to use her ability on herself and her comrades in moderation, to help them fight— furthermore, it makes sense that she'd be paired with Akutagawa, given that she could make his lung condition more manageable. Since there is nothing to be done about it, it will not aggravate it further if she nullifies the pain.

Theory 3– The surgeries on the Hunting Dogs are a lie.

[note that I am not up-to-date with the manga, and all the information I have for this is from Tumblr and the Wikipedia pages for all characters involved]

Yeah look this one’s gonna be short because I’m not sure if it makes any sense. But. Hear me out.

You’re telling me there’s a group of overpowered Ability users, whose abilities and physical bodies are enhanced far beyond any normal person… and they’re led by a guy whose ability is to enhance his weapons far beyond any normal weapon? Really? And I’m not supposed to believe that he’s just enhancing them?

My guy here definitely seemed like the type to view the fancy government ability users he’s in charge of as weapons. C’mon. What do you mean he’s not enhancing them. This is a genuine question I’m so lost on this. If anyone wants to explain this to me. I’m open to here whatever explanation the manga gives.

#Special One Year Anniversary Post #The anniversary is technically April 19th but I was pretty busy last week #Bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd theories #higuchi #hunting dogs #fukuchi #thank you so much to everyone who’s stuck around here for a year!!#And thank you to anyone new who only arrived here recently!!#You are all very special to me and I appreciate every note I get #Every time I see your username pop up in my notifications it makes me genuinely happy #There are a hundred of you here and at this point I think I recognize all of your usernames when I see you come across my dash #I love you all so much #thank you for being here and for enjoying the Anti-Dazai Series!!

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patron-minette · 1 year

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The Patron-Minette in the original Les Misérables manuscript

These are just some of the things that I found interesting whilst skimming though the Patron-Minette scenes of Hugo’s original manuscript of Les Misérables. I can't speak French and frankly, even if I could, I still would not be able to comprehend Victor Hugo’s handwriting, so I am unable to really delve into any differences that there might be in the dialogue… but I can work out where things such as certain scenes and character names have been added, removed, or changed!

Below are five mini rambles on a variety of altered details that stood out to me in this manuscript. I'm completely aware that I'm probably overanalysing some elements and that I can only speculate in my theories, but I enjoy delving into these things nevertheless.

I’ve included images of the sections that I discuss below as I think it's just neat to see Hugo’s handwriting - and hopefully it will better illustrate the changes that I allude to! However, because of tumblr’s limits I can only post 10 images. If you want to look in detail at the original manuscripts yourself, click here (for Books 1, 2 and 3) and here (for Books 4 and 5)

Whilst on the subject of elements that were altered, added, or removed before the publication of Les Misérables.… There was also a huge, multi-chapter chunk of writing that Hugo cut in Book 3, Part 7 (aka 'Patron-Minette') that discussed “flower-wives”, prostitutes, and thieves, with a continued motif of light and darkness. However, these chapters do not exist in the original manuscript of the novel and instead were stored in a large folder of other leftovers called the 'Reliquat des Misérables'. I shall do a separate post on this in the future as there’s a lot to unpack.

On the Patron-Minette’s introduction

I would LOVE to know why Victor Hugo originally listed Babet first when introducing the Patron-Minette, then crossed him out!

In general, I’ve always been curious as to why Hugo chose to order the Patron-Minette in this way in the final version of the novel. I find the order they are listed odd because it doesn’t seem to align with the ranking of "importance" of these characters, e.g. I would say Gueulemer is arguably the least fleshed-out Patron-Minette lead, yet he is listed second. Also, the order that the crooks are written down in fails to even correspond to the following paragraphs where we get given details about the characters (they are listed in the order: Claquesous, Gueulemer, Babet, and Montparnasse— and then are introduced / described in the order of Gueulemer, Babet, Claquesous, Montparnasse?).

To me, listing and introducing Babet first would have made the most sense! Especially as it is implied at the Gorbeau ambush that Babet sets up the jobs and is the primary spokesman for the Patron-Minette— Thénardier addresses him specifically in that scene and asks if things are set up + why there were so many men there for the job, which suggests that Babet handles such matters for the gang.

I don’t really think Claquesous should be the first Patron-Minette character to be introduced, especially seeing as he is practically confirmed to secretly be part of the police force (or, at the very least, has worked with the police force before). And, I always found it odd that Gueulemer was described first to readers - maybe because his physical stature would perhaps make him look the most "traditionally" criminal? But even then I still find it an unusual choice. Hence why I find it so interesting Hugo originally was going to put Babet first but ultimately decided against it

•

On Claquesous and Montparnasse's characters

Claquesous was originally scripted as being in prison with Brujon, ultimately entering into the role that we now are familiar with Babet having during the La Force sequence, aka being involved in Brujon's plot to get rue Plumet scouted out. This is presented in a page of Hugo’s initial notes for the chapter, but when he comes to write the scene up properly later in his draft, Babet has replaced Claquesous

Even more interesting is that in these notes Claquesous has replaced another character whose name I cannot quite read underneath the scribblings in Hugo's draft. Initially I thought it said 'Thénardier' (which would have been fascinating because that would have meant Éponine would be scouting out rue Plumet partially on her father's orders... which makes SO MUCH MORE SENSE THAN HAVING BRUJON AND BABET ASK HER TO SCOUT OUT RUE PLUMET, ESPECIALLY WHEN MONTPARNASSE IS NOT IN PRISON AND THEY COULD HAVE ASKED HIM INSTEAD), but upon closer inspection I am not as convinced as I originally was. If anything, it looks like the name that Claquesous replaced began with 'F' rather than a 'T'. I won't add another image but if you are interested in speculating which character was listed in this role before Claquesous the page that these notes appear on can be found here.

Unrelated from Claquesous, but you can also see that Hugo had an alternative name for Azelma on this page which he then wrote over as he must have gone through his manuscript again. But, once more, I unfortunately cannot read it myself and have not been able not find any information about Azelma's original name online, and would really appreciate it if anyone had knowledge on this! I have tried making the image lighter and think I can make out M[...]INA or M[...]IRA.

As well as Claquesous originally assuming Babet's place at La Force, it appears that he was also simultaneously first planned as the one to attack Valjean and then get lectured instead of Montparnasse - which is rather odd considering this scene happens whilst the Patron-Minette are stll locked up in La Force, so Claquesous would have been in two places at once. As far as I can tell (by trying to translate the French), the contents of this interaction with Valjean remains largely the same between the manuscript and the published scene— aside from the fact that Claquesous’s name is mentioned throughout the scene, and has then been scribbled out and replaced at a later date with ‘Montparnasse’.

From my understanding, Montparnasse was the last of the four Patron-Minette heads to be created in Hugo's mind, and I think it shows here. But, what I find interesting is that Hugo seemed to have already created his character when writing the manusript, but just hadn’t quite decided on the character's name yet.

I say this because even though Claquesous is originally written into this scene, he is nothing like the Claquesous that we are familiar with in the actual novel. There is no mystery about this figure and in this sequence he strides along without a mask. Gavroche describes this "Claquesous" as having a bourgeois silhouette and being a cutthroat of eighteen years old, traits that we know are attributed to Montparnasse in the final version of the novel.

Therefore, it seems to me that at one point in the drafting of his novel, Montparnasse was Claquesous, hence why the name is only changed in the scene and not the age or the description. This theory also explains why Hugo had originally written Claquesous' name throughout the entire scene instead of only once or twice, before then updating every single mention of the name to 'Montparnasse'. It seems that the two characters were not yet disctinct as Hugo drafted some parts of his manuscript.

If we are to think about this theory deeper, would it mean that Hugo had originally intended to put Montparnasse in prison with Brujon instead of Babet, since, as discussed above, we see Claquesous originally mentioned in the La Force sequence... and if Claquesous was originally written with the same descriptors as Montparnasse then it might have meant Montparnasse was planned to be locked up (although the Némorin sequence between Montparnasse and Éponine clearly exists in the original manuscript too, so if he were to be locked up it would have had to be after the Gorbeau ambush and not during it).

However, there is a line of dialogue in one of the cut Patron-Minette chapters that never made it into the manuscript which would contradict my theory: 'Montparnasse, n'ayant pas encore été en prison' [Montparnasse, having not yet been in prison]. But, this 'yet' is important, since this cut chapter was originally meant to slot into the narrative before the Gorbeau ambush, and therefore before the Patron-Minette's principal actors were sent to La Force. So technically it is still a plausible idea (even if it is perhaps a little far-fetched) that Montparnasse could have then gone to prison, even if he had never been to prison before the Gorbeau ambush.

•

On Montparnasse's age: a theory

For many years I thought Hugo had just forgotten Montparnasse's age when writing the novel, as the character is simultaneously described as 'a boy less than 20 years old', then as a cutthroat 'of eighteen', and then Montparnasse tells Valjean that he is 'nineteen'.

Yet, looking closely at how Hugo had penned the scene when Valjean tackles and lectures Claquesous Montparnasse, there is something very interesting going on with Montparnasse's dialogue when he announces his age.

If you look really closely, you can actually see (dix-)‘huit’ written underneath (dix-)‘neuf’! Whilst this could just evidence that Hugo forgot Montparnasse's age as he wrote over 'dix-huit', I instead think the changing of his age was actually more an intentional choice than an accident for two reasons:

a) literally a couple pages before this Hugo writes that Montparnasse is eighteen anyway, so its not as if Hugo could easily forget what age he had written the character as.

b) this dialogue was added in specifically by Hugo at a separate point in time from when he originally drafted the scene, hence why it is in a bubble and separated from the other parts of the draft. Therefore it seems that Montparnasse announcing that he's 'nineteen' was something Hugo felt was important to include - and why would it be important to include Montparnasse's age again if we were only told how old he is just a couple of pages ago anyway?

What was the thought process behind this choice (if there was a thought process there at all)? Did Victor Hugo think Montparnasse would lie about his age and thus changed the character's dialogue from 'I am eighteen' to 'I am nineteen' accordingly when he came back to review his manuscript? Who knows. I personally think it is exactly the sort of thing Montparnasse would do, and I love theorising if Hugo made a mistake with the character's age here, or if it was a fully intentional choice.

•

On the characterisation chaos during the escape from La Force

In general, the sections in the manuscript set in La Force are a bit of a mess, to say the least. As established above, Hugo took a while to work out which characters were even in prison in his early versions of the novel and thus the confusing, jumbled character swapping continues in the original manuscript's version of the prison escape. Just take a look below at the draft of this sequence, it is glaringly obvious that Hugo was completely all-over-the-place in terms of naming who is in the scene and who is not.

In fact, we get another repeat performance of Montparnasse and Claquesous being switched out when it comes to which character goes to fetch Gavroche in this sequence! This is from the page of initial ideas that Hugo penned out before he wrote the cleaner draft of the scene, wherein Montparnasse is the one to interact with Gavroche.

However, unlike in the Valjean scene, I think Hugo knew who Claquesous and who Montparnasse were at this point in the novel (as it is only Montparnasse that features in the clean draft, and there are no further name / characterisation mix-ups) and therefore (again, I am speculating) this might have meant that Hugo actually did have Claquesous in mind to fetch Gavroche to help with Thénardier's escape. Personally I think this would have been brilliant, especially since I have always found it odd that there is no sign of Claquesous in the prison escape scene + it is not even mentioned in passing that he isn't there!

What is more interesting to me though is that Panchaud was also written at one time as the one to fetch and directly interact with Gavroche!

In case you were not aware, Panchaud does indeed end up in the final novel, but only as a minor affiliate of the Patron-Minette who gets arrested alongside the gang's leaders when the Gorbeau ambush is stopped by Javert. In this manuscript, Panchaud also appears in the previous scene to this— telling Gavroche of Babet's prison escape and assuming the role that we see Montparnasse take in the final novel.

There is another very small mention of Panchaud that I also discovered in this sequence that caught me entirely off guard and made me so excited! Underneath some of the mentions of ‘Gueulemer’ within the draft, you can faintly make out the name ‘Bigrenaille’, aka Panchaud's alias! So this would mean that Panchaud was originally penned as breaking out of La Force with Brujon (and then, at one point in time, also going to fetch Gavroche after escaping prison!)

It is lovely to know that Panchaud originally might have broken out with the Patron-Minette heads because it aligns with some information Hugo gives us later in the novel's final version. In the fifth and final section of Les Misérables it is briefly mentioned that Panchaud became a famous crook that was famously known for his prison escapes in the 1840s. So, having him escape La Force back in 1832 and being able to keep up with the Patron-Minette's leaders is very satisfying! Also, it is nice to know that another affiliate might have gotten out in the original draft aside from just Brujon. I always have found it unusual that we know Panchaud, Demi-Liard, and Boulatruelle were all locked up in La Force in the Spring of 1832 (and, if we want to get really deep into it, so were Kruideniers, Glorieux, and Barrecarosse - as after Brujon sent them notes from prison they too were locked up), yet they are not mentioned once at all in the various scenes at La Force, and they do not even try to escape with the others in the finalsied novel.

I really wish I could understand French because the manuscript pages for this scene are such a convoluted mess I’m sure that if I could read them I would find some lovely pieces of dialogue or sections that had since been cut or altered before the novel’s publication. All of actions that we are familiar with certain characters doing in that scene seems to be flipped entirely on its head!

•

On Montparnasse and Éponine at rue Plumet

As Hugo wrote the scene between Éponine and the Patron-Minette at rue Plumet, I find it *very* interesting that he seemed to have added in the word ‘ami’ to Éponine’s dialogue to Montparnasse in a retrospective redraft of the manuscript.

There is a HUGE difference between saying 'mon bon Monsieur Montparnasse' [my good Monsieur Montparnasse] and 'mon bon ami Monsieur Montparnasse' [my good friend Monsieur Montparnasse].

Bon ami is a wonderfully ambiguous phrase - as well as ‘good friend’ the term can also mean lover or sweetheart. Hence, I find it extremely fascinating that Hugo seemed to have added this in at a later rewrite of the original draft. Regardless of what the phase 'bon ami' is meant to refer to exactly, it seems to me that Hugo had added this word in at a different stage whilst writing and editing this manuscript, perhaps deciding that he wanted to allude to more of a dynamic / close connection between the pair specifically compared to Éponine's relationship with the other Patron-Minette characters

I am also intrigued by Hugo's decision to add the dialogue where Montparnasse tells Babet he would have finished Éponine off and slit her throat in at a different point in time from when he first drafted the rue Plumet scene (hence why it is written into a bubble outside of the original draft and Hugo has drawn a line to indicate where the dialogue should be added).

I want to know why Hugo seems to have gone back and added in more content relating to Montparnasse and Éponine specifically in this sequence. Personally, I am interpreting these additions as an indication that Hugo might have perhaps wanted readers to consider Montparnasse and Éponine’s dynamic in this scene a little more than the original draft had done.

#les miserables #les mis #the original manuscript #patron minette #patron-minette #montparnasse #claquesous #babet #gueulemer #brujon #panchaud #gavroche #eponine #cut content #la force #rue plumet #overanalysing again #meta

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whentranslatorscry · 5 months

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Chapter 3: Kakushidate Yakusuke Guiding (2/3)

The seven-story mixed-use building whose rooftop the middle school girl jumped from was actually the same one where I worked, at a secondhand bookstore named Truth Hall on the first floor.

It was a very traditional shop specializing in mystery novels. The store, roughly thirteen square meters in size, was crammed full of used books, managed single-handedly by the owner—an epitome of a personal-run bookstore. I had a short spell working here.

It was just as I had gotten off work and left the bookstore to go home that the middle school girl fell on me.

Every time I found a job, I would be embroiled in workplace disputes and accused without cause. I needed detectives to clear my name, but always ended up unable to stay, even getting fired—this inexplicable vicious cycle kept recurring, leaving me with virtually no freedom to choose my career. Truth Hall was a job I chose very proactively and positively.

Kondou-san might call it "having a foot in two boats", but to me, the key was the store's specialty in trading mystery novels. As a memorandum, I, who have been recording my experiences of incredible and baffling scandals, am eager to enhance my understanding of mystery and detective stories. I wanted to read not only bestsellers making the rounds but also more niche novels that are hard to find these days.

In other words, I was looking for a job that would balance my interests with a good work-life balance, but what was surprising was that this pipe dream actually came true on paper. Booksellers, like other people in the book trade, have to do physical labor (books are heavy), so when applying for this job, my large frame might have played to my advantage—since I could reach the top shelves close to the ceiling without a ladder, I must have been a godsend for the boss.

This was closer to reality than saying it was my passion that had moved him—but if really true, with my hand and foot broken, I would be of no use in this shop.

Of course, once an employment contract is established, as long as I stubbornly cling on, regardless of my broken bones or the media casting suspicious glances at me, my boss cannot fire me. But I don't plan on doing that—I don't want to cause trouble for the workplace I've finally entered.

Just nearly dying at the store's entrance caused enough trouble. Even with all eyes suspecting me, the boss never accepted press interviews. I wished to respond to his attitude with sincerity.

Hence, when we arrived at the mixed-use high-rise three stops away from the hospital, Kyouko-san and I agreed to split up.

She went up to the rooftop first and I headed to the secondhand bookstore: Truth Hall.

"Can you walk on your own?" Kyouko-san expressed concern for me. I had thought it inappropriate to ask her assistance to announce my resignation—even if the keyword "specializing in the trade of mystery novels" had aroused her curiosity.

"Then let us meet on the rooftop."

Kyouko-san entered the elevatorless old building. Getting to the rooftop requires some stamina. If she had the energy to support my body all the way, walking up seven flights of stairs should be a piece of cake.

I made it sound grand, but part of me just wanted to get this nuisance over with. I went around to the other side of the building alone and headed to Truth Hall.

At first I thought the owner might not open due to the recent happening, but business seemed to be as usual. If it had been the day of the incident, police might have cordoned off the sidewalk at the scene, but this being a bustling main road, it couldn't be closed for long.

Well, if that's the case, then Kyouko-sam should be able to move freely to the rooftop without any hindrance.

I pushed open the manual sliding door of Truth Hall and stepped in.

It seemed business was as usual, and the owner, as he did when I was working here, was standing behind the cash register at the counter with the same stern face, flipping through what looked like used books for sale.

I got on with the resignation quietly. Even though I wasn't at fault, I did cause trouble for the store in practice. I was prepared to receive his complaints, but those expectations were betrayed.

On the other hand, I had faint hopes—that he might ask me to stay—but this hope too was dashed.

No wonder, I hadn't been at it for long—I mentioned that I would bring back the apron and umbrella another day, but the boss said to consider them parting gifts. Wasn't it too casual as severance pay? Well, at least for mementos.

Leaving a word that I will come again as a customer next time, I didn't stay longer and my broken foot walked me out of the store.

While the shop's name was, according to the boss, not smeared, the turnover had once increased as a result of the report, which made me feel a little better. Who knows, this might be just a kind lie from the hard-to-please boss—or should I say a lame lie.

"I'm glad that something like that happened to us. Because we're a mystery bookstore, you see…"

So that could be thought too.

Not to sound imprudent, I had to admire their unyielding entrepreneurial spirit—from the bottom of my heart, I hope that going forward, Truth Hall will continue to guard the bastion of culture known as mystery literature.

In conclusion, as I, now once more having effortlessly slipped back into the realm of the unemployed, lugging my broken right leg up several flights of stairs reached the rooftop. I was aghast to see Kyouko-san straddling a railing, for her skirt was hitched up as she clambered over the handrail. There couldn’t be any behavior more ill-bred than this.

Dangerous!

"K-Kyou—!"

I tried to call out unconsciously, but I choked. If my shout startled her there she might really tumble off. Even though the one genuinely petrified was I.

How I wished to dash over without a second thought, harness all my strength, and unceremoniously hoist up Kyouko-san from behind and drag her back to safety. But with a broken leg, I couldn’t dart over, and with a broken hand, I couldn’t hold her.

My recent unemployment only heightened my sense of powerlessness—By the time these thoughts had run their course, Kyouko-san had crossed the railing, turning to face me.

"Oh, Yakusuke-san, you're quite the trooper."

She flicked me a casual greeting.

I didn't need her greeting; I needed an explanation.

"Have your affairs been settled? Did you quit smoothly?"

"Uh huh, it went fine, very smoothly...”

What a weird exchange.

I mean, who has ever heard of quitting not going smoothly?...Yeah I guess you could.

A job isn't something you can just quit at your heart's desire, as I knew all too well first hand.

All things considered quitting was a success this time.

Though battered and bruised, at least I hadn't had any disputes with the boss.

Having explained this, I found myself still trembling, like a detective trying to coax a potential jumper off the ledge.

"So Kyouko-san, what might you be up to this time?"

Kyouko-san stood nonchalantly on the other side of the railing, her footing no wider than the size of her own foot. A slight loss of balance, a gust of wind, and she could crash down.

In doing so, she might be seen as chasing the middle school girl to her death. I, who happened to be present on the scene, might indeed get slapped with suspicion serious enough to warrant the deployment of an investigative unit this time.

Right when my mind was brimming with a foreboding sense of being potentially framed for a great detective's murder, Kyouko-san—oblivious to my concerns—made a tangent.

"Chase, hmm... you could call it being influenced by the narrative nature of it."

It didn't seem that irrelevant actually?

"Whether it's for a reason or not, it appears humans inherently desire an end."

"An end…?"

"Should I call it a suicide wish? No matter adult or child, isn't there a present desire to 'die'?"

"......"

I couldn't bring myself to agree with her, though psychology does indeed recognize the term 'death instinct,' which refers to a self-destructive impulse—essentially, a desire to die.

Pessimistic.

Humans are fragile, not knowing for what reason they may lose their lives—this impulse may sometimes become uncontrollable and manifest.

If that were the case, for murderers who claim that their motive for committing grave crimes was to be sentenced to death, the impulse lurking in their hearts may not be dismissible with just a “for no reason”—because it is also one of the “common occurrences” that are annoyingly frequent.

Only calming down and looking closely, I found that Kyouko-san just stepped over the railing, and had not taken off her boots—this alone made it very clear that she (albeit presumptuously) did not mean to follow the middle school girl who had arranged her shoes before jumping.

In other words, this risky act was just part of the detective work—not to follow suit, but to recreate the scene. By actually standing in the same place the middle school girl did, she might discover something, which was Kyouko-san's usual "try it to know it."

Be that as it may, it still looked very dangerous—although I breathed a sigh of relief, in order not to startle Kyouko-san, I slowly approached her with my naturally slowed gait due to a broken leg.

"Any new discoveries while I was gone?"

I asked vaguely, and Kyouko-san, hand propped against her cheek, hummed thoughtfully, a contemplative expression on her face. This gesture was very cute, but I wished she'd keep both hands on the railing.

"Nothing that could be called a discovery at this stage... If I had to force it, there's just one thing I figured out—that Sakasezaka Masaka-chan really wished to die."

"...What do you mean?"

Perhaps because we were alone on the rooftop, Kyouko-san mentioned the girl's name directly—adding 'chan' to it made the situation feel even more stark. It was a vivid reminder that this was real life, not a novel or a TV drama.

Sakasezaka Masaka.

Twelve years old.

This name contained a certain individuality that could not be summed up in a phrase such as "middle school girl."

"It's really something, standing here. You can feel just how tall seven-stories really is. Tumbling from this height, head over heels, would surely end in death."

Anyone could feel that without having to stand here, I thought...

"So, we can probably rule out the possibility that this was a staged performance to vent suicidal tendencies. This could be an essential clue."

"I see."

Not knowing what's so important, I'll nod along for now—asking the wrong thing could cause Kyouko-san to lose her footing. This was not the time to debate.

But with this, I really felt like a detective trying to stop a jumper

"You say falling means certain death, but Kyouko-san, Sakasezaka-chan survived, didn't she?"

"Only because you just happened to be passing under where she fell."

"Could there be a possibility that she staged it from the beginning, meaning to use someone to cushion the fall...?"

"No way! Even softer than asphalt, the human body is not a trampoline. Even if there was someone to cushion the fall, the chance of death is still high. In fact, Sakasezaka-chan is still in a critical condition, hardly what you'd call 'saved'."

I read too many detective stories and got into the habit of selling the plot. Well, it was a real miracle that I and she were saved.

To think of it, if I had been even shorter, I might not have had a chance to work at the bookstore, Truth Hall. If that was the case, I would not have met with such an accident on my way back.

So, everything may be more coincidental than a miracle.

Coincidence, but no conclusion.

"Indeed, we can't completely rule out the possibility that she waited for a tall, seemingly sturdy passerby before jumping—but from here, you can only see the top of people's heads."

Kyouko-san turned around 180 degrees on the narrow space at her feet, and looked down the road again.

"At the height of the seven-story building, it is impossible to see the height of the pedestrians—You are tall enough, but you're skinny."

For a meat cushion, you wouldn't be the best choice—Kyouko-san grasped the handrail with her left hand and tried to push her body out further from the building.

I'm glad you've finally grasped the handrail, but you're not doing gymnastics, so please don't lean your body forward at such a steep angle.

"I'd pick someone meatier if it were me! There's a high chance of failure still, that both of you will die anyway."

"Oh."

...I just threw out a hypothesis to start the conversation. A real scary thought. But this is what detective work is all about, looking at everything from every angle.

"With a meat cushion, twelve-year-old Sakasezaka Masaka might not have given a second thought to anything. Maybe she didn't even think about what would happen to the cushion when she crashed down like that."

This is so stupid that there is no need to discuss it at all.

But we can't rule it out, to say the least.

This is a common mistake of readers of detective stories, who assume that real-life events and real people do not plan or plot when they commit crimes.

Most of the incidents I have experienced are of no value whatsoever as literature; they are merely the result of a momentary lapse of attention.

From the sound of Kyouko-san's voice, it seems that she is not giving much thought to this possibility.

To be on the safe side, I'll say it.

Why not?

I'm the one who said that there is no possibility of it being staged. But at this point, I can't think of anything that would rule out the possibility. On the contrary, I think it is quite persuasive, and cannot even be sure that it is not true, that a child who read a comic book that glorified suicide and was influenced by it tried to play a "suicide game" and failed, and that the child's antics pulled a pedestrian (me) along.

"No, you see, there are a lot of low-rise six-story and five-story buildings in the neighborhood. If all you want is to play a game, you should jump off those buildings."

Is that how it is?

Of course, not all rooftops are open to the public, but if you want to stage suicide, it's human nature to jump from a lower floor—another strong clue that this may not have been self-staged.

If this view was only accessible by crossing the handrail, then Kyouko-san's on site investigation today indeed had its worth. Ideally I would prefer her to wait until I joined her before crossing the railing. Though for a detective who places the highest value on speed, the concept of "waiting" may not even exist...

"Well. It's time we head to the publishing company."

Kyouko-san, abandoning her precarious 45-degree angle pose, prepared to cross the railing, meaning to rejoin me. It was really nice of her to retreat when she could have been in big trouble if she had been caught hanging around on the roof of the building. But her movements while crossing the railing were so unsteady it made my heart skip a beat.

Reaching out to her was in danger of pushing her, so I had to content myself with watching. It was not at all a motion suitable while wearing a skirt—and she halted mid-step.

"Yakusuke-san, turn around please." She adjusted her disheveled long skirt back into place.

"I, I'm sorry."

"No, thank you."

I couldn't just stand and stare.

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#translation #the testament of okitegami kyouko #okitegami kyouko

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angelayag · 1 year

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A Gaze at What They Call a Waste

Many people have complimented my younger brother's appearance, describing him as cute and charming especially when he smiles revealing the dimples on his cheek. They even nicknamed him "Koreano" because of his fair complexion and facial characteristics similar to those of Korean KPOP artists. However, "sayang" (what a waste), is the first phrase that comes out once they learn of his condition.

My parents always wanted another child a long time ago. They say it would be great and that I could have a playmate at home. I, on the other hand, don’t like the idea of having a sibling; I guess I just want the attention I’m getting as an only child, but who am I to hinder their wish of bringing another life to earth?

Unfortunately, they were unable to have a child since my father was an OFW at that time and he rarely came home to the Philippines. A few years have passed; it was December 2015 when my dad came home to spend the holidays, and during New Year’s Eve 2016, we found out that my mom is pregnant. Knowing that, my father decided to stay in the Philippines during the duration of my mother’s pregnancy.

On September 8, 2016, our little bundle of joy arrived, and his name is Nicolo Liam B. Cardaño. My relatives considered my brother's birth to be a miracle because my parents had been praying for this their entire lives, it allowed my dad to spend more time with us, and also because even at the age of 40, my mother managed to deliver a baby. I was 11 years old at that time; the age gap between me and my little brother might be weird to some but beneficial to others, as they suggest that I’m "capable" enough to give an extra hand whenever my parents need one.

Liam’s transition from newborn to infant seems to be better than expected. He can stand on his own in his fifth month, which is impressive given that the typical month for a baby to stand without support is 9 months. Liam can walk during his tenth month, which is again impressive given that the average month for a baby to walk is around 12 months. He is regarded as a wunderkind by my parents and relatives in terms of his amazing development of motor skills.

From the looks of it, Liam seems like no ordinary kid. At the age of two, he can assemble the alphabet and numbers from 1-20. He can also point out colors and basic body parts of the body. He can easily be taught through flash cards and visual materials. However, there’s one thing that's bothering my parents.

At the age of one, I began to speak my first words, such as "mama" and "papa," or imitate the phrases I heard my parents say, though frequently leaving off the endings or beginnings of words. That’s how my parents would describe one of the most memorable milestones in my early childhood. Baby talk seems to be the crucial part of a child's development, at least according to the majority of parents, including mine; hence, it bothers them when Liam hasn’t said a word or even babbled yet.

We observe some actions he does but do not think of it as unusual. His hyperactivity is hard to keep up with but aren’t all kids the same? He also has inattentive behavior such as not looking back when his name is called or that he has no eye contact when someone is communicating with him, however, this didn’t raise any concern with my parents as they just thought my brother is just an ignorant type. What brings us joy is Liam’s ability to flip around the bed. It astounds us that he has the physical strength to just tumble over and over again. We find it adorable how he tiptoes, flails his arms, and spins in circles. We also noticed how he was able to align his toys properly and connoted him as a perfectionist. To us, his actions are similar to a normal kid. The speech delayment of Liam is the only main concern of my parents.

My parents have talked about this dilemma that they have around their relatives and friends. Majority of them have said the same thing, “magsasalita din yan” (he will talk soon enough). Some have shared their experiences, claiming that their child went through a similar phase of being unable to speak, but that as time passed, they were able to say their first words during their preschool years.

At first, my parents felt relief, as the people close to them had given them hope based on the experiences they had shared. However, after some time when Liam is around three years old, my parents have read article after article of the reasons why a child has speech delayment and it has shaken them to the core. Hence, they decided to go to a professional about this.

My parents came through a developmental pediatrician on July 20, 2019, to console about Liam's speech delay and to discuss his daily activities and routines. After a few consultations, Liam has been confirmed and diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). It seems like the actions mentioned earlier—his hyperactivity, inattentive behavior, and certain mannerisms—are the actual signs and symptoms of autism that we’ve failed to notice.

Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) is a broad range of developmental disorders caused by differences in the brain that impairs social, communicational, and behavioral function. It is defined by difficulties with social skills, repetitive behaviors, speech, and nonverbal communication. It is a lifelong condition, however, with the help of therapy, people with ASD can help them acquire new skills. Due to the negativity surrounding the term autism, my parents were in denial about the diagnosis.

My parents started thinking about the "what ifs" if Liam’s condition is normal. Now that Liam is six years old, he would be in school by now, participating in class, making friends along the way, being swooned over by girls, and growing to be his own person with his own dreams and inspirations. That’s how my parents would describe Liam’s life if only he was "normal." But my parents’ main concern is how Liam would be viewed by society due to the stigma surrounding it. Unfortunately, people view children with autism as nuisances, spoiled brats, and disappointments. Hence, people have been saying "sayang" (what a waste) whenever they know a person has autism, since they already concur that they wouldn’t be a “useful” member of society.

With its technical term and social perspective, we’ve left out the numerous abilities an autistic child has, like how Liam keeps track of time, knowing his own schedule and endeavors, like how he would pick out his outerwear on Wednesday because he knows it's his occupational and speech therapy session. Additionally, Liam is more interested in the mechanics of a toy car, like how the wheels spin, than to see which one runs faster, or how he sees things literally and not as a toy to play pretend with. Lastly, he is a fast learner and thinks logically too. He does amazingly even beyond a neurotypical kid.

People have been saying "sayang" (what a waste) all this time, indicating how little they think of my brother, as if they lost hope the second they learned about his condition, as if it can prevent him from achieving his own dreams and aspirations. Society looks at Liam weirdly as he expresses himself loudly and out of control, running around in circles, but please know that he is experiencing the world differently and that he strives to live life even if it's beyond his capabilities. Autistic people view the world as overwhelming and don't have the mental capability to handle it, but don’t we all?

#essay writing #autism

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thejollyroger-writer · 2 years

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writers’ month - day 3: actor au

Interested parties, lovely writing friends, motivators, etc.: @ohmightydevviepuu @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @shireness-says @justanotherwannabeclassic @kmomof4 @ultraluckycatnd @spartanguard

Looking at Mitchel as he sits beside her on the couch, she remembers fondly the first time she met him, walking into what felt like her hundredth audition that month. Compared to some of the others, the room Karah entered that day seemed desolate, only three other people seated in chairs spread throughout the space. While this only made her more nervous — fewer people auditioning meant she was more likely to be remembered, more likely to get a part — she was also thankful that the room wasn’t crowded. She didn’t know what to expect when she walked into the building, but paneling on the walls and a vibe that reminded her of her nanny’s mobile home was definitely not near the top of the list. With no receptionist, she decided to calm her nerves and take a seat herself, hoping that she wasn’t missing a check-in; her heart pounded in time with the ticking grandfather clock beside her as she carefully lowered herself into the cushioned chair, the fabric a deep maroon. This had been the audition that she was most excited for, a simple rom-com whose script she really enjoyed reading. The main characters shared a banter that she enjoyed, and from the few scenes shared with her in preparation for the audition, she didn’t think there was anything particularly creepy or antiquated about their relationship like so many contemporary romances. Looking around the room only made her more nervous. The casting call was for the main two characters, the descriptions more characteristics than physical attributes, which she also liked — but everyone sitting in the room was a male. Picking at the end of her recently-filled acrylics, she hoped she hadn’t read the audition wrong, hadn’t come on the wrong day. Moments before her brain began to spiral, the door across the room from her swung open, a tall brunette with bright purple streaks in her hair strutting through the door, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. Rightfully so, because she was absolutely gorgeous, but she was not the one that Karah’s focus was on. Instead, Karah’s focus was through the door that she left open, on the man making eye contact with her as he approached the doorway. In the Hollywood movie scene, she had seen a lot of conventionally handsome men, with strong jaw lines and perfectly coiffed hair. He had neither of these. Instead, she found herself focused on a man with characteristics that she couldn’t say she had ever been attracted to before: dirty blonde hair pulled up into a high, short ponytail; a brightly-colored paisley shirt tucked into mid-thigh khaki shorts; dark eyes half-hidden behind thick-rimmed black Buddy Holly glasses. And when he smiled at her, leaning against the doorway, her heart fluttered in her chest in a way that she hadn’t experienced in years. “I really hope you’re Karah,” he said, ignoring the rest of the men in the room as he flashed her a smile bright enough to light up an airport runway. “I am,” she said, unable to return his smile with the bundle of nerves in her chest. “But all of these guys were here first, you should let them—“ “They’re here for another role and will be meeting with one of the producers, you’ll be auditioning with me today.” She felt the air on her arms raise as a shiver made its way down her spine. Why was she this nervous? She tries her hardest to smile through the nerves. “Oh, okay.” Walking across the room, she was thankful for the decision to wear simple Van’s in place of the heels she originally picked out, sensing that she absolutely would have made a fool of herself in those. “My name is Mitchel, by the way. Mitchel Wessex. I helped write the movie, and I’ll be your costar if you get the part.” Even more than before, she finds herself sending a wish, a prayer, anything, to the powers greater than she is, hoping to get this part.

#writersmonth2022 #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #actor au #original fiction

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engagedtobefree · 5 months

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Everything about this man is pure magic.

So yesterday I'm out in the waiting room, and I kept glancing at the door, I am so nervous, and suddenly I know, I just know he's coming up. I see an arm through the sliver of glass and Chris opens the door to call someone's name (James?). But he's not looking around, he looks at me immediately and I do the same with him. We lock eyes and smile. I can't break my eyes away from his and he doesn't look away either until he absolutely has to. I have waited 6 freaking months to see this man again. I feel a wave of calm wash over me and I feel seen, safe, serene. And his whole vibe is just...wow. I mean, same as every time before, just this light about him and such a goodness that I have never felt with any man before. So Chris takes "James" back and then some other "James" walks up to the receptionist and asks if the right "James" was taken back. Sure enough, Chris comes back out and calls "The other James". He smiles, full grin so you can see his teeth, and it's the first time I've seen him smile like that in person since he mostly always has his mask on 🥲 He is the most gorgeous man to ever grace this earth I stg. I'm looking right at his eyes again and he's facing the new "James" but I swear his eyes are locked onto mine again. His eyes get so squinty when he smiles it is so adorable.

Chris is running late but he's done with the guy before me pretty quickly. He goes into the receptionist room and I hear him say my name and that he has to bring me back next, and I'm pretty sure that all I think for the next few minutes until he comes out to get me is how he said my name. I've heard him say it before, when he's called me back with him, but hearing him say it informally just really does something to me. He takes me back and everything is just so nice. I didn't want to admit it before because I had (still have) no idea what is going on, but I am so incredibly happy to be in this man's presence again. I know, I know, I know. I don't know this man that well at all, but every time I look into his eyes I just feel such a sense of familiarity that it fills my chest with this warmth. I have never had this feeling before. I thought dozens of times over these past 6 months that maybe I'm crazy, maybe at my previous appointments - especially my last one - I imagined this feeling, but I didn't. (Still haven't fully written about that yet and I'm not going to unless something actually comes of this. I'd want to talk about it with Chris first.) I had the intention with going there that I was going to soak this up as much as possible, that I was going to just enjoy looking into his eyes as much as I could, but honestly it took me zero effort because once I looked it was so hard to even look away.

Chris is flirty again, and I am...failing miserably at that...again. Seriously, Idk what it wrong with me. I want this man so fucking bad. I want this man to know how incredibly special he is, but I am just unable to convey this to him for whatever goddamn reason. Okay, so I know, I know why. First, as calm as I feel in his presence, I'm also nervous af. I know that doesn't make sense. I feel like this deep inner calm, but my physical self is nervous. Idk if that makes sense now or still doesn't lol. And then second, I am terrified. I am absolutely terrified of giving to someone again and them being deceitful and just taking without intending to ever give back. I trust Chris. Deep down, I feel that I can trust him, but then I start analyzing everything because of my past trauma with Scott and then I just become so unsure. I fucking hate this. I hate this so fucking much.

Chris gave me not one, but two openings to just straight up ask him, and I didn't take them. The first was when he was working on my mouth and he was telling me about his plants. He specifically said he's just home alone, him and his plants. It was deliberate. I know it was. I was going to ask if he was single then, but I was so afraid of the answer. I was so fucking scared of hearing the one thing I didn't want to hear. Chris continued on talking and called his plants "kids", but because my mind was racing, I wasn't sure if he was actually talking about his plants or not. I asked if he had human kids and he said he didn't. I mean that's something I guess, though I honestly wouldn't care about that, I only care about if he's single or not.

The second opening was when I was rinsing my mouth out, he told me I should be Lydia for Halloween and asked if I knew who she was. Of course I knew, and then he said all I'd need is a Beetlejuice. I wanted to ask, I wanted to ask so badly if he wanted to be Beetlejuice, but I was frozen in fear. I was so fucking terrified I could feel myself physically shaking. Idk if Chris saw, it probably wasn't actually visible and only felt like it was. I was split in two by my desire to give this man a little something, to let him know I'm 100% interested and want him, and my fear of flirting with another woman's man again, of trusting a man who gives me nothing but deception. I am so fucking traumatized from the years I spent stuck in Scott's web, and I feel like it is ruining my chance with someone new, someone trustworthy, someone who I have felt nothing but good things about since the first day I met him. Scott fucked me up so bad. I realized after yesterday that it's actually a lot worse than I originally thought. I am fucking sobbing right now. I hate this so much. I don't normally like to say things like this, but fuck you Scott. Fuck you for lying. Fuck you for taking advantage of me. Fuck you for being a selfish dickhead who never considered anyone except yourself.

I used to feel bad for him. I used to feel sorry for him that his wife left him, but you know what, good for her. This man never thought about her when he was coming into work flirting with me, when he was leading me on making me think maybe he was separated or going through a divorce, when he was checking me out and giving me compliments. I hope she finds a man who actually values her and treats her well.

Scott just never cared, ever. He didn't care when we worked together and he still didn't care even after he was actually separated. He only ever made time to talk to me when it was on his schedule and convenient for him. He never complimented me, only ever called me hot or sexy, and usually that was when he wanted a sexy pic or after I stupidly sent him one. He never communicated with me about anything. The man knew me for 5 years and couldn't even get my birthday right, even when it couldn't have been easier with his being 1/15 and mine being 10/15, which I even explained to him several times. I am partially to blame for my own trauma because I just kept accepting what Scott was giving, and I naively kept trusting him when we worked together that he was being honest and not leading me on. Hell, even when he came back after he became separated, I ignored that little voice inside of me telling me it wasn't right, and I continued to ignore it for over a year until I finally had a literal breakdown. I never trusted Scott, and during that period of time after he came back, he gave me even more reasons to not trust him, which for the sake of not drawing this post out too much, I'm just not even going to bother with. He doesn't matter anymore. The only thing that does is me healing the wounds he left me with. Which I will do. I will not ever let the negative effects of some irrelevant man control my life. Now that I am fully aware of how much this is fucking me up, I am going to be putting in twice the effort to overcome it. 🖕🖕🖕Suck it, Scott.

In my current reality, however, I am still incredibly impacted by that trauma. So now there's Chris, who gave me his number and proceeded to never reach out to me, and is sometimes not great with responding back. He hasn't communicated what exactly he wants, like what his intentions are. And while he remembers some things, he definitely forgot other things, like my birthday, which just passed last month, and Weasley's name, which I actually was playful about at my appointment, asking him to guess. That stuff is bothering me a bit because I'm like, are these red flags, is this actually suspicious, or does it just seem that way when really there's nothing to worry about. And then on the other hand, he's under zero obligation to give me anything at all, he doesn't have to remember anything or even care. We haven't dated and he hasn't expressed any interest in dating.

I decided the best thing for me to do would be to take some action, so I asked Chris if he would be interested in going to this Krampus parade with me in a few weeks. He said he would love to go if he's not busy. At first I was thrilled, but then I was like, wait - if he was genuinely interested, couldn't he make time. Then I feel bad for thinking that because I know he's tired and overworked, between being the only full-time hygienist at his work and then playing hockey. And he did save the picture in our snap chat. My mind is a fucking see-saw except it's not fun because it's just me playing on it alone, running from one side to the other to keep it moving. I wish my mind came with an off button so I could just stop these stupid, ridiculous thoughts from even finishing. I can't keep expecting Chris to show interest when I haven't equally given him the same. Maybe that's what he's waiting for. Maybe he wants me to be the one to initiate something to see if I am genuinely interested. If he can't go to the parade in a few weeks, that would suck but I won't be upset or anything. I'll just have to try again and see if there's something else he'd be interested in doing. I absolutely refuse to wait another 6 months to spend time with him again. And I really want to be able to talk with him normally. It's difficult when he's working on my mouth because I can't always respond, and when there's a question I want to ask him about himself or his life, sometimes I forget because by the time my mouth is free again, Chris has brought the conversation somewhere else and I completely forgot about my previous question or comment.

I'm afraid to give again, but that is exactly what I need to be doing. I need to reach out, even if he isn't. I definitely need to work on my complimenting, which Chris is doing perfectly fine with. I also need to communicate, and if I expect him to to tell me what he wants and what his intentions are, then I need to be willing to do the same. I think I am doing fairly well in the memory department at least. Chris isn't Scott, he's a different person, and it isn't fair to him for me to just assume the worst when he hasn't given me a concrete reason to. I don't think he would've mentioned the being home alone thing or Beetlejuice thing if he wasn't single. Those just felt so incredibly deliberate, and it would really surprise me if he said both of those things how he did while in a relationship. He also out of nowhere just like threw 6 compliments at me at once. He told me all in the same sentence I have a nice smile, eyes, body...plus like 3 or 4 other things. He had it all just ready to go and I don't remember everything he said. All I could say was "you too", which I 100% meant because I really haven't seen anything about Chris I didn't like or wasn't attracted to. He even was giving me some little bits of his life philosophies and it was so cute😭I was telling him about last year when I went to see Kaleo and how I cried when they played Automobile (tbh I was borderline sobbing lol). He never heard of them or that song, and I told him he should listen and that I bet he'd cry too. He laughed and said I was funny, and just watching him in that moment, I wanted to never stop making him laugh. I just. This man does things to me.

At the end of my appointment, he showed me a pic of him dressed up as this one lady that works there with him, and then he showed me a pic of him in his dinosaur onesie. He looked so soft and snuggly but all I could say was that it was cute 🥲 I really just can't with myself. I have never had an issue with flirting to let someone know I'm interested, and I have never felt drawn to anyone in the same way I am with Chris, and here I am, just not flirting it up. Asdfghjkl. When he handed me my appointment card, I purposely brushed his finger when I took it, so I hope he at least knows I did that on purpose. He took his mask off before he took me back out, and as he stood there leaning against the doorframe telling me I make him so nervous, I wanted to just walk up and touch his arms and.... I had to stop myself from finishing the thought because I think I actually would've gone through with doing something. Towards the end of him working on my teeth, I looked over at him and felt such a strong urge to sit up, take off his mask, straddle him, let the chair slide us towards the wall, and just kiss him and do things to him that definitely should not be done at his work.

I felt like I had been there for hours talking with Chris, but my appointment was maybe half an hour. It was definitely my longest appointment with him yet, when my other ones had to be maybe 15-20 minutes, which is probably the standard time. It took me a few extra minutes to get home than usual, and I kept telling myself to wait to reach out to him, but I just couldn't. I texted him the Kaleo song, and then I realized a few minutes later he had messaged me too. He sent me a message in Snapchat of the melting face emojis. I responded with "heyyy 🥰" and he said "Ur eyes 🫠🫠" followed by "I get so nervous around you". All I could say back was "Me too🥲" because that just really sums up how I honestly felt. Chris told me towards the end of my appointment with him that my eyes are hypnotizing, and I am curious if my eyes have the same effect on him like his do with me. I have never felt so drawn in by anyone's eyes before.

If Chris can actually make it to the parade in a few weeks, I know that realistically, I'm not going to be fully healed and ready to go, but I know that some progress will have been made. I'm always moving forward, especially when I know specifically there's some big thing I need to be addressing. One thing I can say about myself is that even if my fears stall me for a bit, I never let them fully stop me; I always eventually move past them. I think too that being around Chris was actually helpful. It was super shitty how impacted I was yesterday, but I would have never known that my past with Scott was impacting me so much had I not been around Chris. I mean, he's the only guy I'm interested in, so no other man was gonna bring that up for me, and it hasn't come up during any of my alone time. So I guess maybe some good came out of that? I have also become aware that I cannot ask Chris what I want to ask him from a place of fear. Asking him if he's single from a place of being fearful and anxious and needing answers is not the route I want to take. I can only ask him from a place of being healed and balanced. Relying on him for that external validation is actually not going to help me. I need to find that place of being at peace within myself first. I need to have already done the work. The good thing is, is that when I have more motivation aside from myself, I tend to work faster, so who knows, maybe Chris will fuel me to find healing faster. Guess we shall see.

And just a bit more...while I need courage to ask Chris if he's single and what he wants, I am going to need strength to resist immediately tearing this man's clothes off when I'm alone with him. Chris has...already let me know that he is having dirty thoughts about me lol. He hasn't said anything beyond that, like no details or sexting or whatever. But I mean...the feeling is mutual. For as many nice, pleasant thoughts I have about this man, I have an equal amount of dirty ones. If he kisses me, I do not know how I will control myself. In public, sure, I'd have to, but privately, I don't think self-control would be possible. I don't like to do hook-ups, as I'm a relationship gal through-and-through, but my God I'd really have to put in the effort to not break my own heart with Chris because I just don't think I'd be capable of saying no. It would be a tough battle for sure. I wouldn't be surprised if I just dropped into an existential crisis at some point while being alone with him😅I mean, I'm not just physically attracted to him, I'm attracted to him in every way possible, but also just his energy alone and the way I feel when looking into his eyes is enough for me to abandon all reason and act on pure instinct alone. I spent so much of my day at work today feeling physically weak just thinking about this man, so much so that I banged my head against my desk twice, once from longing and the other time from being frustrated with myself about yesterday. I am already completed fucked 🥲

His office sent me an email not too long ago asking for a review, and in the spot where it was an open-ended question asking what they could do better, I put "nothing - best cleaning of my life". Whoops. Did not think that one through. Sorry, Chris, probably should not have put that. Do not pass go, head straight to jail, I cannot reach out to Chris until it's time to ask about the parade. Welp, time to go bang my head against something again.

Oh wait, forgot to mention I got a little dolled up yesterday 🥰 I tried not to overdo it but think I might have lol

#it's me hi #i'm always the problem #it's literally always meee #personal #chris

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