#Nothing will ever stop me from making these not low engagement apps breaking! Nothing! THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY THAT IS ENOUGH and I’m really | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetcathedral · 3 years

Text

Note: The reblogged continuations looked weird on phone format, so here’s a cleaner one with a link for Part 1. Link for Part 3 will be updated here tomorrow!

⚠️: Reader’s discretion is advised. This chapter contains forms of dubious consent and explores the theme of sex being used as self-harm.

They sat together in comforting silence, thinking of nothing but the serenity of having each other by their sides.

“Hey, Tsukki.”

“Mm?”

“Just message me next time you feel like sleeping around.”

Contemplating silence. Maybe what he said was stupid, or Tsukki had fallen asleep, or he’ll be met with another cold—

“Okay.”

Suna blinked, taken back by surprise. “What?”

“I said okay.”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean ‘oh’?”

“No, I just—I thought you’d be opposed to it.”

“They’re not as … good … as you,” Tsukki mumbled.

Suna grabs his face tilting it up.

“Assho—!”

“Say that again.”

“No!” Tsukki shakes his head out of his hand, so that he could turn around and face him properly. “Just because I’m sleeping with you doesn’t mean I like you, okay? Pleasure. We’re only using each other for pleasure, okay?”

Suna knows.

“I know. But I couldn’t quite catch what you said before, you put water in my ears.”

“I said, they’re not as good as you.”

“Not as good as me in—?” He baited Tsukki to fill in the blank.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“Say it, or I’ll drown you,” Suna said over Tsukki’s voice.

“They’re—” Tsukki’s ears were turning red again, “they’re not … they’re not as good as you in bed! There I said it!”

Suna burst out laughing. Tsukki kept splashing him to calm him down, but he was having too much fun poking at Tsukki after he had admitted how good Suna was compared to the other guys.

They finished up their bath in silence, Tsukki fell asleep while they were in the tub, so Suna finished cleaning him up first. After dressing Tsukki in clean clothes and putting him to bed in the spare bedroom, he went back to the bathroom to finish his bath with a quick shower.

Finally alone, he let out a loud sigh. “Fuck,” he mutterd under his breath.

Suna knows. He knows what he’s in denial of, he knows that Tsukki likes Kuroo, he knows that Tsukki would never choose him, that he’s just a rebound to pass time as Tsukki gets his shit together. I know, I know, I know I know I know I know I know. I. Know. But this relationship was better than nothing. He didn’t care what he had to sacrifice, as long as it kept Tsukki from spiraling out of control. And if it costs him to break a relationship to make Tsukki happy, he’d do it in a heartbeat, because that’s all he wanted Tsukki to be. To be happy.

“Oi, Suna!”

Tsukki waved his hand over his face. “What are you dozing off for?”

“Nothing, just thinking about what to have for dinner later on.”

“Hinata, Kenma and Atsumu are trying to invite us for korean bbq tonight. You coming?”

“Sure, I’m free.”

A couple of weeks have passed since he dropped by Kenma’s place to hand Atsumu a package Osamu needed to get to him urgently. He had planned to give it to Tsumu as soon as he saw him, but everytime he did, the package wasn’t with him in person. Osamu kept reminding him to the point of pestering paranoia that he ended up at Kenma’s place in the middle of the night, so that he could finally sleep in peace and not have nightmares of Osamu killing him for not delivering the package in a timely manner. Thank God Kenma allowed him to stay over. According to Atsumu, the package wasn’t even a big deal as Osamu made it out to be. Again, Suna got caught in the twins’ antics and bickering over the phone. The package in question wasn’t physically that big (looking at it from the outside), but when he caught Atsumu opening it and holding it in his hand the physical appearance didn’t matter anymore. Suna had delivered an engagement ring to Atsumu on behalf of Osamu, not knowing the story behind it and not caring to know it. Not a big deal my ass.

Once Suna’s paranoia disappeared, he was finally able to resume back to his daily life routines. Except, this day also wasn’t part of his routine.

“Where are you taking us?” he questioned Tsukki to remind him again.

“Shopping for new shoes.”

“Couldn’t you do that alone?”

“Yeah, but then I won’t have an excuse to get out of conversations with fans that I bump into. I’ve been bumping into them almost everyday thanks to Kenma’s Portugal vlog with Hinata, and his fans have been asking me to do another one with Kenma too.”

Tsukki grimaced, while looking at the maps app on his phone, leading the way to the store he wanted to checkout.

It’s true Kenma’s fans go overboard about wanting to know what goes on with everyone that appears in his videos, but as long as they don’t force themselves onto them, then it’s fine.

“Hey, could you guys be Tsukishima Kei and Suna Rintarou? Volleyball players, right?” A cheery woman walked up to them, coupled by two of her friends waiting close by to confirm their curiosity.

“Yeah, you watch our games?” Suna replied with a smile, covering for Tsukki. “Sorry, he’s a bit shy.”

“Oh that’s okay, we didn’t mean to take up your time,” she clarified hurriedly, “we just wanted to know if it was okay to get a picture with you guys?” She timidly asked, perked with anticipation.

“We don’t mind,” Suna kicked Tsukki’s foot, still keeping his facade on. “We have a bit of time to spare for you guys, right Tsukki?”

A harmless response, yet calculative in a polite way to let their fans know that they’re only free for the picture and nothing more.

Tsukki fidgets behind Suna then reluctantly steps out, properly greeting his fans.

One of the girls tried holding the phone in an angle that could get them all together, but Tsukki and Suna were too tall.

“Here, how ‘bout I hold it for us,” Suna offered, winking at the woman, which sent her into a flustered expression. “Okay! Ready, one, two—”

“Three!” They ended the chant in unison.

Once they confirmed their satisfaction with the picture, they bowed their goodbyes to each other.

“What’d you do to make her friend blush like that?”

“Fan service.”

“Not scared that you could’ve turned her into a stalker?”

“Don’t need to be scared. Stalkers start their day stalking, she started the day with her friends not knowing they’d bump into us.”

“That’s some deduction.”

“I’ve dealt with a few stalkers before, so it’s only natural to know so I could avoid it in the future.”

“Scary.”

“Is it around here?” Suna looked around for the shoe store Tsukki had on his phone, swiftly changing a conversation he didn’t want to get into details about.

The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Ah, over—here.”

“Tsukki?”

“You guys are here too?”

Just as they spotted the store, Suna and Tsukki bumped into Hinata, Kageyama and the woman Suna saw in the gossip articles, Kuroo’s girlfriend.

“Tsukishima, Suna … what the hell?” Kageyama narrowed his eyes in annoyance.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Kageyama wanted to improve his foreign language skills with her, but we also planned to buy shoes afterwards, so we met at Kuroo’s place and now we’re finishing the day off with shoes.” Hinata rambled, explaining their day to Tsukki.

“No, I wasn’t—I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Dumbass,” Kageyama snickered.

“Huh? But you asked.”

“That’s,” Tsukki sighed in defeat, “nevermind.” He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, by the way, this is Kuroo’s girlfriend.” He introduced you to Suna.

“Hello,” Suna bowed.

You bowed in return.

For someone who’s usually sneering at almost everyone, Tsukki was composed, unable to look anyone in the eye.

“We can come back later on if you want,” Suna spoke to him in a low voice.

“Why? We’re already here.”

Suna and Tsukki followed behind the trio into the store.

What Suna could tell from Tsukki wasn’t anger, jealousy or sadness, he was uncomfortable and awkward—withdrawn—maybe because everyone else seemed to get along with her and Tsukki didn’t know how. The one thing they had in common was their feelings towards Kuroo, from what Suna can presume.

“Are you gonna shop for shoes too?” You asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Nah, I only came ‘cause of Tsukki.”

Out of the five of them, you and Suna stood by waiting for the three to pick their shoes as they made snarky remarks at each other.

“Are you finding the stay okay?” Suna picked the conversation up.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” your feet fidget. “I’m finally able to take a well needed vacation after working non-stop for a year.”

“What do you work as?”

A question not asked out of curiosity, only to keep the conversation from dying in awkward silence.

“Artist, specifically a painter.”

“Nice. I never thought of Kuroo as the artsy type, so how’d you guys meet?”

“Through Kenma,” your eyes softened. “We were able to meet thanks to him.”

Kenma? “Oh, you knew Kenma first?”

“Yeah, although I only met Kuroo in person after a few years of being friends with Kenma,” you nervously laughed.

A few years? Suna thought back to what he knew from the articles, but he never thought about the extent of your relationship with Kenma. Your connection with him only surfaced when the rumours between you and Kuroo were making headlines. You also never appeared in any of his videos, nor were you ever mentioned by Kenma himself. So who were you to Kenma?

“Did you meet Kenma as a fan?”

“No, I actually didn’t know he was a pro gamer until afterwards.”

“Oh?”

“We met at E3, and I guess Kenma came as a shareholder instead of what he’s known for.”

“So you game at the side too.”

“No, not as seriously as Kenma. I went as a shareholder as well.”

“Hey! You guys wanna head to the bbq place now?” Hinata interrupted.

Kageyama and Tsukki trailed behind him, looking satisfied with their new purchases.

“Oh, I’m heading back for the day. I still haven’t prepared Kuroo’s dinner and he’s working overtime today,” you politely declined.

“Aw, boo,” Hinata pouted.

“Sorry, maybe another time. I still have a few more months before I leave.”

Hinata continued making excuses for Kuroo to starve, so that you could join them for the bbq, but you seemed to purposefully be avoiding hanging out with them.

“Do you not like us?!”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” You yelled back at Hinata. “I’m saying that I’ll look like a whore if I’m the only girl there!”

“Then I’ll be a whore with you!”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Oi, if she said no it’s no! And that’s Kuroo’s girlfriend you’re trying to ask out!” Kageyama smacked him upside the head.

After Tsukki broke the fight off, they decided to drop you off at the station. Suna felt disappointed at the thought of not getting to know you better, there were still questions he wanted to ask, but at least he got to see how the others were around you. Although, Tsukki had different reasons for being the way he was.

Hinata and Kageyama didn’t even talk about you behind your back, once you were gone. Kageyama was excitedly going over his new phrases and vocabulary with Hinata, and talked about how easy it was to learn from you, like a kindergartener talking about their first day of school. On the other hand, Hinata was still annoyed that you weren’t able to come, but he was already planning where and whom to hangout with next. Their excitement expressed how comfortable and happy they are to be around you, except for Tsukki.

Tsukki neither expressed his like or dislike of you, not that Suna knew anything about you, yet. He barely got to know you, except for the fleeting, but daunting, mention of Kenma. A thought he’ll overthink before he sleeps in the nights to come.

They arrived at the korean bbq place and found Kenma and Atsumu at their reserved table at the back corner of the restaurant, right by the washroom.

“Took you guys long enough,” Atsumu scooted over, making room for the rest.

“Hinata was begging her to join us and wouldn’t let go until we dropped her off at the station,” Kageyama exasperated.

Kenma turned to Hinata, putting his phone in his pocket. “Someone’s attached.”

“But she’s fun to be around and it’s not like she’ll be here for long,” Hinata sulked.

“You can see her another time. It’s not like she’s gone forever.”

“You can see her any time. I don’t have that much money like you to be saying it that easily.”

It’s true. Out of everyone seated at the table, Kenma was the only one rich enough to say he could travel easily, despite them being pro athletes. Must be nice to be that free.

Time flew by fast as they got lost in their conversations and topics, blissfully filling their stomachs with good food and light beer.

Suna couldn’t help but overthink about the way your name sounded coming from Kenma’s mouth, but they had suddenly stopped mentioning you after a quick change of topic, thanks to Atsumu. There was no mention about the ring Osamu had been pestering Suna to give to him, so he had assumed that it could be fake, although the conversation the twins had over the phone sounded serious.

Tsukki was seated across from him, intently listening in to Atsumu and Hinata rambling on about their sponsorships and what to do in their upcoming fans meeting, while scrolling through his phone. Placid as usual, but nothing out of the ordinary … though he can feel Tsukki brushing his foot up his ankle under the table in a discreet manner. He glances up to Tsukki, nonchalantly keeping a poker face, blending in with the right reactions to the conversation. Suna knows he was the one who proposed this type of relationship first, but his intentions weren’t the same as what Tsukki is probably thinking of.

Suna gets up from the table, naturally Atsumu and Kageyama adjust themselves to make room for Suna to get out with ease. “I’ll be back,” he tells them.

He takes a trip to the washroom and heads out the back door of the restaurant for a smoke. And of course, after a while, Tsukki followed him outside.

“You free tonight?” Tsukki asked in a mellow tone, lightly tapping Suna’s feet with his.

“Again?”

“So you’re not free?”

Everything clicked in Suna’s head. It all made sense now, and he was right to keep Tsukki close to him by proposing this type of relationship. Whenever Suna turned him down to fuck, it’s not that Tsukki agreed with his answer, he just found another way to get what he wanted by calling someone else. The options Tsukki keeps in his phone is just his last resort, if things didn’t go the way he wanted them to. The only time Tsukki wants to fuck is when something related to Kuroo comes up; the point where he wants to forget the most. How could Suna not notice after all this time they spent together? Tsukki never talked about how he really felt about anything. This whole time Suna thought that Tsukki was getting better, but he had actually gotten worse. Maybe this relationship wasn’t a good idea in the first place, but Suna didn’t want to risk going back to how it was in the past, especially with how their relationship is now.

[...]

[Part 3]

4 notes · View notes

gacy-lajla · 4 years

Text

Jeon Jungkook X Reader || False Alarm

Genre: Love Alarm!AU, it’s not really fluff or angst just a lot of frustration and misunderstandings??

Warnings: mild use of foul language, probably a lot of errors because I never proofread I’m sorry

Word count: 2,413

Summary: Love Alarm is a brand new app and will contact you if someone in a 10 metre radius fell for you – given they have the app, too. You didn't download it for personal reasons and when you meet one of the schools heartthrobs he cannot stop and wonder why his alarm didn't go off when you locked eyes. But would it even do so if you downloaded the app?

You two locked eyes across the hallway, it was hard to block out the constant ringing of his Love Alarm going off as students passed him by, here and there other people received a notification as well, checking it quickly if perhaps by any chance Jungkook was a match.

Offering a small smile as the boy didn't look away you continued moving again, passing him by as you couldn't wait and finally leave this place filled with lovesick puppies. Stepping out of the building the atmosphere didn't seem to change for one bit, the occasional ringing to be heard and longing gazes were thrown around as students hoped for their crushes to pass them by and possibly alerting their mobile devices. Here and there you saw students just minding their business which made you feel not totally out of place, which was nice to see.

Leaving school grounds you finally seemed to escape the madness of people longing for love – and now that you were sure there was a very low possibility of someone calling your name you pulled out your headphone. Plugging it in you were about to blend out the outside world and dive into your very own but a quite large hand on your shoulder made your reflexes kick in and in one quick and swift movement you escaped the touch and faced the person to evaluate the situation. To your surprise you were face to face with heartthrob Jeon Jungkook – who you noticed staring at his phone right after you turned around. Your eyes narrowed slightly and you tried to read his facial expression, but as expected nothing would break his flawless facade. Seconds went by without a word uttered and he finally thought it would be a good idea to look at you after startling you like this. You were worried his oh-so-perfect eyes might have been glued to his phone for forever.

But still, none of you said something. You were about to ask him what he wanted but stopped yourself after noticing the smallest change in his face. His eyebrows seemed to have drawn closer, an uncharacteristic frown having formed as he looked you up and down. Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze you crossed your arms protectively over your chest and your gaze hardened.

“Is there a problem?”

No reaction. Of course, why would someone so popular speak to someone like you, after all? Didn't he have somewhere better to be? As you were about to turn around he took a step forward, the hand grasping his phone coming closer to you and you took a cautious step back. What the hell was his problem?

“Why isn't my Love Alarm notifying me about you?”, he asked, and never really having talked with him his tone threw you off a little. He sounded genuinely confused. Given that his alarm always went haywire, no matter the other persons gender, you kind of understood his confusion but at the same time he seemed like one of the most narcissistic people you have ever met.

“Do you just expect everyone to love you?”

This seems to have hit a nerve and he backed off a little, your shoulders relaxed as a result but your arms remained crossed. You could see the gears in his head turning, trying to process what you had just said.

“I mean... it kind of always-”

“Dude, I understand that your ego can't take this so lightly but I really want to go home and not deal with this right now so if you could just-”

“Hey, that was fucking rude, I just asked you a question – I guess the alarm not going off really means you hate me, then!”

Your eyes widened at his loud words and your shoulders tensed once more.

“Just because your stupid alarm didn't go off it doesn't mean someone hates you, it just means they don't love you romantically! I don't see what the big deal is, Jeon, so could you please leave me alone?”

Not saying another word after the exchange you put on your headphones and walked off, not wanting to deal with this unnecessary argument any more. Honestly, what was wrong with this guy? Was he so spoiled that he really didn't understand the concept of not everyone wanting to kiss his feet the moment they meet him? He really must've been fed with a silver spoon all of his life if that was true. Or maybe this app just failed in its purpose – there were quite some flaws, the biggest being that people would only rely on it to know if someone loved you. It was kind of measuring the worth of hoping for a relationship. If it didn't go off after the first meeting, why bother trying?

“This is so stupid, love isn't something that happens on a first glance. Attraction, sure, but this – this is ridiculous!”, you mumbled angrily, your footwork being more intense than usual, your pace much faster. You could feel your heartbeat so you tried to calm yourself, taking a deep breath. This wasn't your problem, you didn't have the app so you wouldn't have to deal with all of this. Not that you were interested, really.

A few days passed, the weekend successfully isolating you from the majority of the school you went to. Only a few familiar faces popped up here and there, but nothing too engaging. But soon enough Monday rolled around again and you tiredly slumped against your desk, not having slept enough the night before. You still had around ten minutes before the first class would start so you chatted with your friends.

“Isn't Woosung coming today? He never misses his classes.”

The question made you lift your head and look over at your friends, one of them turning theirs away embarrassedly, visibly turning pink.

“I don't think he is, we kind of... got into an argument? I don't know. We met up yesterday at an cafe and made a bet on whose love alarm would go off first when we download it and, uh-”, there was a brief pause when they looked around to make sure nobody was listening before leaning in, “Mine kinda may have gone off first and it mayhap could have been him who made it go 'bling bling', if you know what I mean and then he just excused himself and left-”

“It did what?”

“Woosung likes you?”

“Did you talk with him after the incident?”, you piped up quietly. Embarrassed they rubbed their neck.

“I don't really know what I should write him. 'Thank you for liking me'? I don't even know if I feel the same way about him and it was just a game-”

“But his feelings aren't a game for him. You should try and talk to him, tell him you need time to figure this out, at least.”

“Right.”

After that the conversation died down and not much later the first class started, the rest off the day passing by rather quickly and you soon found yourself on the campus again, swiping out your phone to shoot Woosung a quick message, asking him if he was alright. You worried a little for him but you were also sure that he'd get back up quickly again. Before you could pocked your mobile device away again you were met with three bodies aimed in your direction. The figures were lean and you groaned internally. Curse people who were taller than you.

“Can we talk?”

You looked up at the person who spoke, immediately recognizing him as one of the hot topics at this school, a friend of Jungkook. You weren't that busy but you also didn't want to speak with them, not knowing what this would be about, maybe a Love Alarm thing again and they also didn't understand why it wouldn't react with you being in close proximity. But then again, you were really bad at saying no when you didn't see a visible threat and people were around to witness.

“Sure”, you said, shrugging, nervously holding your phone tighter. You looked to the other two to identify them, you weren't entirely sure but you'd guess that before you were Jin, Jimin and Taehyung. The one that spoke to you actually had pretty broad shoulders which was almost scary. What did his parents feed him?

“It's not really our matter what happened between you and Jungkook, but we have to deal with him and his reaction now, so we wanted to talk with you about what occurred last Friday”, the smallest of the group said, his face not telling you much about his emotions, except for a small pout.

“You're right, it's none of your business and I don't see what there needs to be talked about. His alarm didn't ring, so what? So didn't yours or anyone's when I'm around, it should just be an indicator that I am not romantically invested in anyone.” You talked in a steady and calm matter, not wanting to make this into some big conflict you didn't want to be part of. But your plans had to be crushed when the last one of the boys spoke up – definitely emotionally more invested about this than the other two.

“That didn't mean you have to tell him that you hate him! That was totally rude and uncalled for, our Kookie doesn't deserve this, we want you to apologise!” At his loud and deep voice you took a cautious step back, your heart racing which you tried to mask with a neutral expression, but your tense body gave away your anxiousness. His two friends tried to calm him down a little by placing their hands on his back, whispered words were being exchanged while you thought of the quickest way to get out of this situation. You didn't have to talk to somebody accusing you of things you didn't do, right?

Just as you were about to take a step towards the gate you felt a hand on your shoulder, a strong feeling of deja vu washing over you. Reflexes kicking in quicker than your brain could take anything in you slapped the hand away quite harshly.

“Don't touch me!”

Surprised at your own volume you only dared to stare at the ground, three pairs of shoes visible before you turned around once more, determined to leave. Even when you heard voices asking you to wait you didn't falter. Asking you to apologise for something you didn't do was already a hot take but them touching you without permission, even when it only was your shoulder, was the last straw. Had they used their voices first, maybe you would've stayed, but this act of dominance, wanting to turn you around by physical contact, that is something you were taught not to accept that easily.

The next day went by just as fast, Woosung, after some texts, seemed to have brightened up and actually showed up again. He still seemed a little stiff with your other friend around but he also knew that he didn't want to lose this friendship with them, which they were grateful for. You on the other hand still had your thoughts set on the fiasco from the day before. It was weird how an app could complicate things so much. And you didn't even install it once.

What made you more nervous was the fact that you had classes with Jungkook today. You really didn't like seeing his face around any more. How could he tell his friends the lies about you hating somebody you barely knew? You just knew that he was the hot stuff to other people around you, which you couldn't deny – he was attractive. But there was nothing in your brain that told you 'oh, I wish I could be in a relationship with you so, so bad'. And to your brain he was nothing more than something nice to look at from time to time.

Which you didn't notice, because you don't take note of a lot of people, is that you shared that same class with one of the guys you met the other day. Taking a deep breath the moment you noticed them you rushed to your seat. You didn't even have time to hope for peace and quiet because they were already by your side. Course breaks, for once, because you really were getting sick of this.

“Look, I'm not going to apologise for something I didn't do – I never said I hated you, that's something you assumed beca-” You couldn't finish your sentence, you would've hadn't it been for the words that left Jungkook.

“I'm sorry.”

“Huh?” You looked up at him from your seat, confused as if he'd just grown a third eye. You waited for him to continue, because it looked like he wanted to say something more. It took quite the nudge from his friend who you recognised as the one who raised his voice at you.

“I'm sorry about assuming things I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me. And I'm sorry for bothering you with all this because of the app. And for telling my friends things about you that weren't true.”

His whole manner seemed a lot more stiff than you were used to, his voice wavering at some points.

“Apology accepted, I'm also sorry for probably sounding a lot ruder than I needed to be.”

“I'm also sorry for... yelling at you yesterday. It wasn't my place to do so, I just don't like to see my friends getting hurt so I lost my temper, sorry.” You were surprised at – Taehyung? - also speaking up, but you appreciated it. It was nice to see people learn from their mistakes.

“It's alright, I understand why you did what you did.” You paused, thinking about telling Jungkook that you didn't even have Love Alarm, but the setting seemed too out of place. Maybe another time, you were just glad that this situation was now solved.

#bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #reader insert #reader #look at me not posting past midnight i'm so proud of myself

125 notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 5 years

Text

Title: Rumor Has It {3}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Nah.

Word Count: 4.5K

Summary: Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think my marriage is done.”

Zora and Kizzy looked to each other then back at you. They didn’t speak; it was like they were waiting for something else from you. “Hello, bitches! Did you hear me?”

“Hold up, don’t go calling us out our name because you’re going through stuff,” Kizzy snapped. You rolled your eyes. She was right. You were high strung. It had been seven hours since your conversation with Chris. He hadn’t called you back, didn’t text, nothing. You were hurt and still pissed.

“Is this because of the video?” You nodded.

“What did Chris have to say?” Rolling your eyes, they knew the answer to that. You didn’t have siblings; your cousins were your siblings, and your best friend was your family. They’d been with you through everything, childhood, road to fame, big break, they were even there when you’d met Chris in France. You told them everything. “That great huh,” Zora continued.

“It was like he refused to see my side, he refused to say he’d set boundaries, refused to care.” You tried not to get emotional again. You hated crying.

“Was this a productive conversation Riah or were you the pissed off wife throwing accusations?” Your jaw dropped at her insinuation. You knew they were on your side, but sometimes you just didn’t know.

“I didn’t insinuate anything. Yes, I as the pissed off wife because I am pissed off. If he ever expresses he is uncomfortable with something I make a note to change it. It was whatever to be this way when he was single, but he asked me to marry him, it wasn’t the other way around. If it was what he wanted, he should move away from that behavior,” you ranted.

“We hear you and agree. We just want to make sure you understand part of a marriage is also proper communication. You can’t press his buttons and disrespect him verbally.” Raising your eyebrow, you looked between them wondering if they’d talked to him. There had been plenty times he sought them out for advice on how to handle you. Yes, you could be a handful, but you had standards and refused to lower them even being married.

“Did you guys talk to him?”

“No. We know you Riah, we know your fighting style,” Zora explained.

“Nothing will ever get resolved unless both of you actually listen to each other.” You listened to them carefully; you knew what they said was true, but you listened to Chris; he was the one who always had selective hearing. Then when he spoke, it was always to reply to something. He didn’t listen. Sometimes you wondered if he knew you at all.

“Anyway, I have some days free. What do you say we hit up MIA and unwind?” Again, Zora and Kizzy looked between each other. They expected this. Whenever you and Chris argued you both disappeared for a few days. He disappeared with communication, and you actually disappeared preferring to get out of dodge.

“You can’t run away from your husband Riah,” Kizzy informed.

“I’m not running from anything. I just want to enjoy my few days free on the beach in Miami. Are y’all coming or not?”

You knew they’d come. Slowly they smiled, and you knew you had em. You finished dinner taking heed to stay away from any of your drama and listening to theirs instead. When you left, you were bombarded by paps shouting questions at you. “Uriah, any comment on the footage of Chris with his costar?” “Uriah, is there trouble in your storybook romance?” “Do you and Chris have an open marriage?” You and yours pushed through the paps to your valeted car.

Before you got in one more photog shouted a question; “Any message you want to send to Ana De Armas?” That one tripped you up. Your slick ass mouth almost went off and said “back the fuck up off my man and find your own you thirsty bitch” but thankfully you caught yourself. Keeping a smile plastered to your face, you climbed into the driver’s side and drove off. You refused to play the jealous, territorial wife that was not the part you auditioned for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twelve hours later, you were in Miami being shown to your penthouse. When the three of you walked inside, you marveled at the interior decoration; it screamed South Beach. You smiled and walked out to the private pool and closed your eyes with your head tilted to the sky. It was beautiful weather, and you intended to take advantage of it. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. It made your heartbeat pick up thinking it was Chris. Glancing down at the screen you sighed out seeing it wasn’t him. It was his sister Carly. Sighing you put it back in your pocket. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to her you just didn’t want to think about him, or anything related to him. You’d already failed your self-given challenge with a simple thing like a ringing phone.

He didn’t call last night or text. It’s not that you expected him to, you didn’t—well part of you didn’t. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t hoped he’d call and apologize and say everything you wanted him to but you learned long ago individuals were their own people, no matter how much you hoped and wished for them to do something or be a way they probably wouldn’t because you couldn’t control them. It was a hard lesson to learn and an even harder one to stomach in a marriage.

Last night you’d gone over everything minuscule detail of the conversation with him, and you didn’t think you’d been irrational. You were actually surprised you hadn’t gone bat shit crazy on him. in the four years you’d been married you could remember worse arguments. Yes, you did say a few things with a disrespectful tone, and yes you may have pushed his buttons with some things just because, and yes the comment about kids was a low blow that could have gone unsaid, but besides that, it was a rational, calm discussion. “Fuck,” you mumbled realizing you’d let the kid comment slip and it would lead to an even bigger argument.

“Ready to get some grub?” Kizzy’s voice snapped you out your thoughts, and you pasted the same smile you’d worn for the last twelve hours.

“Yeah, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Zora responded. She wasn’t lying. You could always eat. It was one of the reasons Chris said he fell in love with you.

A few minutes later you were in a car on your way to one of the best restaurants in the area. With one ear you listened to Kizzy and Zo talk about some guy they’d met on set. You put the rest of your attention on social media. You scrolled through Instagram first not looking for anything in particular just a past time from point A to point B. you came across a picture of Chris signing autographs, it was the first in a series. You sideswiped to the ones that followed and knew they were from his current engagement in Toronto. The last picture he was posed by himself, but he wasn’t smiling, his jaw looked tight, and his stance looked tense. It didn’t come across like his usual self. Part of you felt a tinge of guilt that maybe it was because of you, but as soon as it washed over you, it faded.

The driver announcing your arrival brought you to close the app and slide out the car. You were grateful there were no paparazzi. When you sat down and skimmed the menu, you quickly found what you were going to eat and wasted no time ordering. “Shopping next or beach?”

“Definitely shopping, we can hit the beach tomorrow and make it an all-day event,” Kizzy responded.

When your food came, the three of you joked like always. You were relieved that even with everything going on, they hadn’t switched up. You’d lost friends on this road they called fame. Some you’d lost because of your rising star, some you’d lost because of drifting apart, and some you’ve even lost because they thought your husband was a challenge to see who he’d sleep with.

When you made it back to the penthouse, the sun was setting, and you really didn’t want to be left with your thoughts. So, you suggested a night of fun--fun you desperately needed. The three of you showered and changed. When you were finished you assessed Kizzy’s work in the mirror, she really was the best make up artist around, and she was all yours.

Pulling up to the club, you could hear the music from the outside and see the long line wrapping around the sidewalk. Everyone knew this was the hottest club in Miami. As the three of you approached the security at the front, you knew when they recognized you. The two burly men nodded to you as they opened the door for you. Once inside the music became even louder. You looped arms with Kizzy and Zo and walked through the red-tinted corridor. At the end, you were met by one of the girls who worked there, she was dressed in a short, tight white dress and held a bottle in one of her hands. The closer you got you made out her face, she was pretty.

“Mrs. Evans,” she began. Raising your hand to stop her before she continued you corrected her.

“Uriah is fine.” She smiled, then held out the bottle she carried. Taking it, you read it — Ace of Spades, the good stuff.

“Tino, the owner, wanted you to know how glad he is that you’re in the house.” You didn’t know how he knew you were in the house, you literally just walked in. “Follow me; I’ll take you to VIP.” You nodded and followed behind her as she took a path that was close to all the other patrons but not close enough where they could grab you. Some recognized you as you passed and called your name. You smiled and waved while forcing the awkward feeling down. This was never something you’d gotten used to. You never got the draw of being fascinated with celebs. The fact Chris was a celebrity was one of the reasons you ignored the hell out of him and disappeared from the street festival you’d met at.

When you got to VIP the three of you situated and popped open the bottle, the first round you guzzled, as you did the second. By the time you were on your third glass, you were standing up dancing to the music and beginning to have a good time. With every Nikki Minaj song, and Drake anthem and Reggae bop that came on you drank more and more and twerked your ass faster and faster. By the time Beyonce came on, you were sure you mouth every lyric of “Don’t Hurt Yourself,” a special request by Zo. All of your problems drifted, and the only thing you cared about was what your next drink was going to be, tequila, bourbon, vodka, or maybe something that really fucked someone up; rum.

By the time you staggered out the club, the paps were there to snap your less than ladylike exit. You knew you’d had too much to drink and there they were to catch all of your disgracefulness. They shouted questions, none of which you clearly heard. As you, Kizzy and Zo shuffled into the waiting car you did make out one question “What do you think Chris will say about your party girl days coming back and you not wearing your wedding ring?” Groaning you dropped your head back on the headrest, you knew he’d hate it.

The next day was torture. It was a day you remembered why you’d slowed down on your party days when you got married. You were hungover. What’s more, you got text messages from your team showing headlines of you across many internet blogs. Somehow they’d gotten pictures of you and your friends in VIP drinking, laughing and dancing. There were even pictures of your brief conversation with the owner; Tino. The pics looked suggestive, but the attention was purely one-sided—his side. Then to top it off they got picture of you exiting the club and close-ups of your hand sans wedding ring.

There were so many comments and people who wanted to have their piece of the conversation. Much of it was from your fans and supporters agreeing with your actions. Comments ranged from women who were saying you should live your best life and teach Chris a lesson, to offering to put “the homewrecker” in her place, and even those telling you to go off and do some straight-up messed up shit. There were even comments from men saying you were acting like an immature girl trying to one-up Chris. Some were saying you should respect your husband and work it out between each other and not over social media. There were even a few who went above and beyond to say you deserved this treatment because you went out without your wedding ring which shows the woman you are. It was all overwhelming.

Your team wanted you to do damage control and release a statement that explained you going wedding ring free and appease the masses by assuring your marriage was fine. You felt that was bullshit. Why should you have to explain shit? You actually did nothing wrong. So, you told your team to back off and let the chips fall where they may. While you lied down you began to wonder if he’d seen any of the headlines, or if he was pissed or if he cared at all. You hadn’t gone out with the intent to get back at him you just wanted to cut loose and forget some things. You knew to him it would look like one of your subliminal messages. He hated your sometimes passive aggressive messages. You tried to work on it, but sometimes you did revert.

Your head was killing you, so you spent the majority of the daylight hours in bed nursing it. The only thing you could do was watch TV and wish you felt better. It was brutal, something you’d forgotten about. As you laid in the bed feeling absolutely sick to your stomach, you began to miss him. You missed him a lot. You usually would talk several times a day and text all throughout. He would tell you all about his day, and you’d do the same. Usually every night you were separated it ended with Facetime sex. It was one of the personal vows you’d made to each other on your wedding night when you had a second more private vow ceremony. It had been two nights now that hadn’t happened, two days you hadn’t talked or texted, and you hated it.

You were so close to caving in and calling him, so close to just giving in to your feelings but every time your finger hovered over the green phone button you hesitated. You wanted to hear his voice more than almost anything, but you also knew you weren’t wrong for thinking what you did or feeling like your husband was being a dick about it. When you remembered all of that, you tossed the phone away and tried to get some sleep.

When you awoke, it was night, and Kizzy busted in the room squealing. “Oh god Kiz, the volume.” She jumped on the bed sending everything on it flying into the air before it dropped back down. You had no idea why she was so chipper. She drank even more than you or did you drink the most. You couldn’t remember exactly. “Guess who got an invite to the white party tonight!” smiling and jutted her thumbs to herself with a self-satisfying grin across her face. “Zo and I went for a swim in the rooftop pool on the other side of the hotel and bumped into Christina White, oh my god she is so beautiful. Anyway she recognized me, can you believe that Riah? Then we got to talking, a few glasses of champagne and a couple dozen compliments later she invites me to the party tonight. The hottest party and we got an invite.”

You didn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her you’d already been invited and had opted to stay in bed for the night. Instead, you smiled. “Of course, she invited you, and of course she recognized you. You’re the hottest makeup artist in the game Kiz. It’s long overdue they started to put some respect on your name, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re too big for me.” She smiled then rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll always give you the best rate.” You laughed together as Zo dropped herself on the bed as well.

“So, we’re going right. How can we pass on The White Party, come on?” Zo’s voice was pleading. You’d been invited for the last eight years and for the last four years you passed. The last one, you and Chris, planned to go together but something came up with work for the both of you, so it never happened. You took up your phone and checked your messages. There were more messages from your team, some from you mom no doubt having seen and heard all the hoopla and wanting to check to see if her favorite son in law was being treated well. The only name evidently missing was Chris’. He still had yet to call or text. It hurt yes, but it also made you angry all over again.

“Of course, White Party here we come.”

~~~~~~~~~~

After staring at your rings on the dresser top for almost twenty minutes, you decided to leave them there. Your fingers looked bare; you almost didn’t recognize your hand. You’d gotten so used to the accessories that you felt strange not wearing them. Brushing the feelings to the side you set out for the exclusive White Party that was hosted by none other than the White siblings.

Christina and Christiano White were affluent royalty. They weren’t actually royalty, but they were set for life like them. They were the twins of billionaire Randy White and his third wife ex-beauty queen Mariposa De La Verde Cruz-White. Randy was so rich he made old money seem like lunch money. Instead of keeping up with the Jones’ a lot of people tried to keep up with the Whites, you weren’t one of those people though.

When you made it to the Versace mansion where the party was being held, your jaw dropped at the outlandish display of opulence. It was like Mardi Gras, Carnival, and Crop Over all mixed in one with bling bling everywhere. “How rich are these people again,” Zo whispered to you. “So rich, they could give every American a salary of twenty grand a year.” You’d read that in some tabloid magazine. The three of you walked down the white carpet and smiled for photographers. You made sure not to stop for any questions. You knew everything they were going to ask.

After slipping inside the three of you got a much needed drink, you decided to go slow tonight. You didn’t want to fly with a hangover tomorrow. Scanning the room, you saw most of the big names in the entertainment and fashion industry. They all were dressed to the nines in their sexiest white outfits and no doubt trying to one up each other in some way. Sipping your drink in your own sexy outfit, you and your friends gossiped about everyone’s outfits, the thirsty women there trying desperately to snag some hot star for the night and even the décor. Zo and Kizzy pointed out some cute ones they wouldn’t mind getting close to. You gave the go ahead to go shoot their shots knowing they wouldn’t voluntarily leave you.

You watched from across the room as they each flirted and no doubt dazzled the two guys, you knew them as Aaron Blake and Quentin Porter. They were cute but not your type. You made your way back to the bar for another drink. “The beautiful lady will have a glass of Armand de Brignac Champagne, make it rose̒.” You looked to your right and saw none other than Christiano White. You smiled, then shook your head. “Still your drink of choice, right?” He leaned on the bar and smiled at you. He was still very handsome.

“Eh, everyone seems to think so. It’s the one thing I always get sent.” Laughing he sipped his own drink, it was probably Vodka, he sure loved him so Vodka, or he did four years ago. “How are you little Dove?” you took up the glass placed before you and drank half of it down before answering him.

“All right. How are you?” Christiano nodded his head, then finished his glass. “Better now. Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

“I got invited.”

“You’ve always been invited. You stopped coming when you decided that I wasn’t good enough to be around anymore.” You could hear the disdain in his voice. Here we go, you thought. You finished the glass and raised your finger to the bartender to request another.

“I never said you weren’t good enough. Those words never came out of my mouth.” Christiano nodded, but he didn’t look like he agreed.

Christiano looked around again before he looked back to you. “Sure seemed like it. What exactly was it you said then, a month before you married some actor who looks like the carbon copy of me? what was the point of that?” You rolled your eyes, not wanting to get into this.

“He doesn’t look like you Chris,” you clarified, using the nickname everyone called him. he scoffed hearing it. “Isn’t that his name too? Sounds like a carbon copy. Miss me, little dove?” You looked over him. He was in a white linen shirt and white board shorts. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down showing his toned chest and abs. Christiano wasn’t an ugly guy, in fact he was hot as hell, hot enough for you to have had an on and off two-year relationship.

“I recognize that look in your eyes.” He stepped closer. Before the space was respectable of your marital situation, now it was personal, intimate. He lifted his hand and moved it toward your jaw. Before he made contact you slid back a little. “Come on Christiano, play nice.” You gave him your sweetest smile, a smile he couldn’t help but return. “Are you enjoying yourself little dove?” Looking back to your glass you nodded.

“You always did know how to throw a party.” Before you could register it, Christiano leaned to your ear and whispered. “We could be throwing these together, as Mr. and Mrs. White.” He slowly pulled back, and your eyes met. Once upon a time you had thought about marrying him. You didn’t know Chris then, and things were good. Clearing your throat and breaking the eye contact you looked down to your exposed thigh.

“I’m already a Mrs.” Christiano scoffed and nodded.

“Are you sure, little dove? I’ve seen the tabloids. Trouble in paradise?” You clenched your jaw and fought off the urge to roll your eyes. “Low blow?”

“You know anything you say could never hurt me, Chris.” He laughed and leaned closer. “That’s right; you’re bulletproof, no shots fired could ever touch you.” You’d told him that years ago and meant it. You were still the same woman, but you’d never tell him you weren’t entirely bulletproof anymore.

“You don’t deserve that, Riah, you know that right.” You shrugged off any emotion and looked at him. “You’re still as sweet as ever.” You placed a chaste kiss to his cheek and turned back to the bar and finished the champagne.

“Come on, say hello to everyone.” He took your hand and led you through the mansion and before you knew it, you were surrounded by your old crowd, some new and some you’d seen plenty of times over the years. Everyone greeted you with hugs, cheers and a lot of vodka. It was like old times. The music cranked, and your friends joined you.

The rest of the night passed with drinks, laughs, and dances. You danced with Zo and Kizzy and with Christina and in a circle with other girls. You could feel Christiano’s eyes on you the entire night, and you knew it was wrong, but you didn’t mind it. You’d never take it anywhere in a million years, you’d said your vows, and you meant that shit with everything in you. That didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun and remind Chris that he isn’t the only hot piece of ass that people want to get on top or under. Close to two in the morning you felt bold enough to give Christiano a dance, you kept it clean, but his hands roamed as they always did. Every time they traveled anywhere but your waist, you were quick to wag your finger at him. He always laughed it off. Christiano always thought everyone was fair game. Maybe you being there was giving him those vibes. You were far from fair game.

When the sun was coming up was when you made your way out the hidden entrance of the mansion. Christiano tried to convince you to stay with him in one of the rooms, but you heavily declined. There was no way you’d do that. When he finally got it he made sure one of his drivers were on hand to get you back to your hotel. Christiano opened the door, Kizzy, and Zo slid in the car talking amongst themselves about nothing, they were drunk as hell. You turned to Christiano and nearly lost your balance. His hand slid around you, pulled you close and held you up. Your eyes met his hazel ones, and you shared a moment—a literal moment. You found your balance and pulled away. “Thanks.” He smiled and nodded. “Don’t be a stranger little dove. My doors are always open for you.” You snorted.

"Which doors exactly LA, Miami, Greece, Virgin Islands, Bahamas, Mexico, Brazil--.” Christiano cut you off with a roll of his eyes. “You missed quite a few, but all of them. Anytime.” You knew just what he meant. He wanted you to leave Chris and go back to him. “Uh-huh.” You slid in the car as Christiano shut the door. He waved to you while biting his bottom lip. Another lifetime maybe. In this one your heart belonged to one man. As the car drove off you began to wonder if he even deserved it anymore. You closed your eyes, sighed and decided that tomorrow you’d worry about your problems.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chaneajoyyy @firedolphin04 @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @vannahvannahhh @academic-glowup @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @disneysdarlingdiva @toniilaney @areubeingserved @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @southerngracela @bellaamor88 @mack-jay

#rumor has it fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans X black reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

243 notes · View notes

brokasteltranslations · 5 years

Text

Fate/Requiem: Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a great war. It happened long ago, before I was born. And then it ended, and the world entered an age of peace.

–

In the modern era, each and every person held within their heart a tiny Holy Grail, which was nothing more or less than that person's preordained destiny. And each and every person was capable of summoning a Servant allotted them by fate, in accordance with the guidance of the Grail.

Servants were an information resource by nature, accumulated throughout human history. Their souls were enshrined in the Throne of Heroes, a place which transcended the bounds of space and time. By 'downloading' them from this Throne, it was possible to manifest them in our world.

–

The shape of the world changed greatly after the war. This town was born anew - reorganised into city units, known collectively as Mosaic City. Among them was Akihabara, the Maritime City, which I called home. Sea levels had risen dramatically as a result of global warming, and now the city quite literally bordered on the ocean. The Kanda river's name was nothing more than a vestige of the pre-war era; in reality, it was nothing more than a canal through which sea water flowed.

–

This town was watched over by the Holy Grail, and not a day went by when its citizens did not partake of its bounties. Those survivors from before the war had been given the opportunity to obtain a Grail upon its conclusion, while those young enough to have been born after the war, like Karin, possessed one within their hearts from birth.

The Grail had brought immortality to the masses. The principal causes of death in the old world – biological factors such as ageing, genetic degradation, infectious diseases, viruses and malignant cancers – had all been conquered. By expending Command Seals, one could even manipulate their biological age. In this city, one of humanity's oldest, dearest wishes – eternal youth – had been realised.

–

But I was different. I alone stood apart. I was the only citizen of this city who had not been granted a Holy Grail. I had been born into this new world, but I would age naturally – and, eventually, die – with all the senselessness characteristic of the old. An irregularity, born outside of the sight of the Grail. That was what I was – me, Utsumi Erice.

With no Holy Grail, I had no Servant to contract with as my partner. Every once in a while, someone would be unable to stifle the urge to ask me how that felt. If it were up to me, I would laugh at them, and tell them that they'd never understand even if I tried to explain – but I'd been chided no small number of times by my master for that. You would be remiss to be callous in your interaction with your social environment, if you wish to live peacefully in this new world.

So, for lack of anything else to say, I answered them like this:

“Imagine you were incredibly short-sighted, to the point where you could hardly see, but you were told you weren't allowed to wear glasses.”

“Imagine being told you had to travel somewhere on foot, while everyone else was allowed to use trains and buses.”

“Imagine going somewhere you've never been before, only to find that the navigation app on your smartphone was an unusable piece of junk.”

The question I had by far the most trouble with was the question of how I survived day-to-day life without Command Seals, which were one of the bounties of the Grail. On that point, no matter how thoroughly I tried to explain, most other people seemed to struggle to understand my situation any more than vaguely, and ultimately had no interest anyway. That was the ideal response, as far as I was concerned. I could find no fault with that.

There were also those who genuinely understood, and responded with exaggerated surprise and sympathy. Some would offer me the usage of their own Command Seals, assuring me with fawning pity that I could come to them if there was ever anything they could do for me. There were even a few so selflessly empathetic that they claimed to truly want to trade places with me – although always with some condition attached, by which they could return things to normal if they so pleased.

Every such encounter reminded me anew that I was nothing more than an amusement to them. A means of flattering their own altruistic sensibilities, and of relieving their boredom for a little while.

Akihabara was a labyrinth in three dimensions, not just two. In a block nestled a comfortable distance from the downtown area on the middle stratum, bordering a natural public park, stood a multi-storey building housing a collection of public service facilities. Contained on one floor of this building was the classroom I frequented.

I had arrived slightly late for the start time, and hurriedly took my seat. The wide, fan-shaped room was almost devoid of students. This was decidedly not a facility for compulsory education; it was offered the people at large educational lecture courses aimed at fostering lifelong learning. Citizens of all ages took the course, and attending every single lecture was virtually unheard-of. Consequently, I was known as something of an eccentric.

The people here knew nothing of the battle of immortals that occurred last night. Those kinds of incidents never made the news.

–

Well then – it was time for Pre-War Human History.

That was the name of the course I was taking. Unfortunately, it could hardly have been called the most popular subject. The content of the lectures was much closer to trivia than education. The main goal of Pre-War Human History comprised learning about the human race's greatest triumphs and blunders in the world of the past. It was...well, to put it bluntly, dry.

In the first place, Akihabara was Mosaic City's premier resort. Students who were sincerely striving to learn, or families concerned with the proper education of their children, would simply up and leave for another district. I had an inclination that this space only really existed to entertain the interests of the lecturer at the front of the hall – my master, Ms. Fujimura.

–

Oh, it looks like that girl's here again.

I cast a quick glance out over the lecture theatre from my usual perch at the back. A small, familiar figure was sat in the very front row, concentrating intently on the lecture. She had come again today. As a rule, I never saw students younger than myself attending these lectures, so she had stuck in my memory. She was a pale child, short in stature, and perhaps old enough to be at the upper end of elementary school. Her voice and attitude during the occasions that she posed questions to the lecturer had given me the impression that she was female, but there was no guarantee. All kinds of people lived in this city.

Her had was invariably pulled down low over her head, and her eyes were covered by her bangs, so I hadn't ever seen her face clearly. I had never engaged her in conversation, and I didn't even know her name. She appeared in lectures once a month or so; I felt a distinct disconnect between her keen attitude in lectures and her abysmal attendance rate.

Today, her standing record for youngest lecture attendee had been broken. The new champion was none other than my companion: the stray Servant I had taken in last night, the golden-haired child. He was at least sitting in his seat for now without making a fuss, but he was fidgeting constantly - rocking his body to and fro, and sometimes lying down as though trying to savour the feeling of the cool wood of the chair. Or so I was thinking, before he suddenly turned to peer into my face, obstructing my view of my tablet.

“You think you're a cat or something?”

“...Ca-...cat?”

“Maybe you're more of a dog, huh. Your hair's all floofy.”

“Dog?”

“Yeah, a dog. You know, woof-woof.”

“I know dogs.”

“Oh, really? Well, I'm glad for y- what the hell do you think you're doing!?”

He had scrambled up onto the seat of his chair, planted both hands on the desk and begun to howl, loud and proud.

Awooooo! Ow-ow-owooo! Awoooooo!

He finished his surprisingly accurate rendition, flashing a beaming smile. I sat for a moment in silent astonishment – and might perhaps have thought for a moment that it was a little endearing, although this really wasn't the time for that.

“Hey, stop that! Get down from there!”

Give me a break. I was just about to give you credit for at least not being as loud as Karin, and you go and pull this. The other attendees were turning back to look at us now, searching for the source of the noise.

“I'm sorry. We'll be quiet. I'm really sorry.”

My master had stopped giving her lecture, and was cocking her head at us. The girl in the front row was looking too. If looks could kill, the glare boring into me from beneath her bangs would have dropped me stone dead. Although I couldn't exactly blame her for getting annoyed at someone bringing this commotion into a class.

Yes miss I'm so terribly sorry I won't do it again...ugh, what did I do to deserve this...

I had no way of knowing how to handle a young child like this boy in the first place – but that said, I also couldn't possible have left him behind in my apartment by himself. And I had thought to myself that I might learn something about him if I brought him here with me.

“Don't dogs say “bow-wow” in English, anyway?”

“Boh-roh.”

“Not even close. Must be nice to be able to mimic things like that, huh...”

Ohh boy. Starting to get the feeling I'm not going to be learning much from today's lecture...

I rested my head on my hand and pouted. Gazing idly at the young boy's angelic face out of the corner of my eye, I cast my mind back through my memories of my baptism last night.

It had happened on the previous evening, after I had been fished from the riverbed by Karin and Kouyou on the wharf. To cut a long story short, I decided to take the boy back to my apartment and put him up for the night, still none the wiser about who he was or where he had come from.

–

I had been living on my own ever since parting ways with my grandmother.

In a quiet corner of Akihabara, there was a small, depopulated district that most people avoided. Before the war, it had comprised a collection of multi-purpose buildings crammed to bursting with shops, but they had all been abandoned after the Grail's large-scale restructuring of the city. My apartment consisted of a room in one such building.

The inside of the room was decorated in Victorian style. Every inch of floor was covered by wooden floorboards, and its antique interior had been preserved unaltered. Apparently, it had originally housed some kind of dubious culinary establishment known as a “maid cafe”.

–

My apartment wasn't exactly designed for ease of living, but it was furnished with a proper bathroom and bedroom, and was more than sufficient for one person to live in comfortably. It even had a veranda, albeit a small one. From the window of my bedroom I could gaze out over a small vertical slice of ocean hemmed in by the surrounding buildings.

–

My opportunities to invite another person back to this humble abode were rare. Considering my job, the risks involved in freely letting others know where I lived were far too high. The only reason I had brought this child back with me was that it would have been too irresponsible to leave him to his own devices. I didn't even know who his contractor was; to have allowed him to freely roam the town would have been unthinkable.

He might have manifested in the form of an innocent child, but that only set me more on edge. I had allowed myself to be disarmed by a target's outward appearance before, on a previous job, and had made a grave mistake because of it. A Servant I had believed nothing more than an angelic young child - like purity itself sculpted in alabaster - had harboured a terrible darkness. The Avenger, Louis XVII. The incident that arose around that particular monstrosity had ultimately claimed not only the life of his Master, but those of a great number of innocents as well.

At the time, I had not yet fully graduated from childhood. Louis and I had been similar in stature, and I had thought we could have been good friends. In the end, however, my friendship and goodwill had been used and turned against me. That incident was not one I would forget easily.

–

There was another reason that I had brought this stray child back with me: I had been driven to my wits' end in another sense. Frankly speaking, I could not take it any more: the rank stench that permeated the both of us had become unbearable, and I could not bear to go another minute without washing it off.

The culprit was the oil slick near the quay that I'd had the ill fortune to be dragged through when I was fished out of the Kanda river. Petroleum-based waste oil, that had leaked from one of the boats moored in the harbour. I had hardly had the time to worry about such things immediately after being deposited on the wharf, but now that I had returned to my senses the discomfort was driving me to distraction. Pouring water over myself or wiping myself down with paper towels would do nothing to remove this - I needed a proper bath.

I had been stopped by a worried Karin when I had tried to totter my way home, still bearing a serious wound that I had no right to have recovered from so quickly. She had only seen me off after I had explained about the charms and such that I kept in my house. She was easygoing like that.

I had tried to invite her to stay the night here, but she had breezily turned me down, saying that she had a friend in the vicinity who would put her up for the night. Karin's social connections remained as much a mystery to me as ever. Although she had given me a rueful smile, saying that her family would be angry with her for returning home the following morning.

–

In any case, I had finally returned home, and could allow myself to relax a little. I looked the boy over once more, this time with the aid of my apartment's artificial lights.

“Hold on. Hey, no, wait, wait, wait! Don't just go right in! Just stand here for a minute.”

I grabbed him by his sodden scarf and yanked him back, prompting a visible sulk.

“Uh...sorry.”

So he did possess emotions, and the capacity to appeal to them. That would be useful, at least.

Both of us looked ridiculous, soaked from head to toe and glistening with oil. I was at least wearing swimwear and a windbreaker in place of my ordinary clothes, but his lot was a much more miserable one. I could feel my memories of the unearthly spectacle I had witnessed below the surface of the water growing more distant by the minute.

Alll-righty. I pulled myself together, and sank to one knee in the entranceway, looking over this child once more from top to toe.

He at least appeared to be eight, maybe nine years old. He was Caucasian, with the pale features particular to Scandinavian climes - although given that Servants were as much concept as they were genetics, any attempt to determine their race was close to meaningless. His hair was a pale blonde, almost white, and it had been left to grow freely.

His scarf was sodden, and hung limp around his neck. Or maybe it was a muffler? Well, it wasn't as though it mattered. It was composed of fabric knitted from some strange, gaudy material – it was hard to say if it was actual gold, or just extremely intricate needlework. His clothing looked to be made of cotton, and had a simple design, reminiscent of a Greek-style tunic. He had a small embroidered design on his chest, which I made a note of as a potentially important clue.

His belt and shoes were made of the same material as his scarf. The heels of the latter had a strange design; they were tapered towards the back, like spurs used for riding horses. I could have taken that as an indication that in life he had been some sort of knight – but nothing else about him gave that impression. He's nothing like any other Saber or Rider-class Servants I've seen.

His pale blue eyes stared back at me questioningly as I scrutinised him. I was seized by a sudden rush of curiosity.

“Hey. Do you think you could tell me where you came from?”

He smoothly lifted an arm to point towards the ceiling.

“From the sky? From Heaven? You don't mean from the moon, do you?”

He shook his head at all of them.

“I've come...from somewhere very far away.”

“All Servants have.”

“...Really?” He must have found something amusing, because his face blossomed into a smile, and he giggled. I was relieved at the unexpected ease with which I was able to communicate with him, although it seemed like he was still struggling to understand what I was saying.

His first words had been in halting English, but from the way he had appeared to be listening in on the conversation between me and Karin I would venture that he at least understood our language. If he was a Servant who had been summoned legitimately, he would have been granted a bare minimum level of common knowledge about the modern era by the Grail, as well as the linguistic capabilities necessary to express himself to others naturally. However, now that I was trying to determine his true name, that was only serving to impede my search.

As I questioned him, I produced a pair of scissors and carefully snipped a five-millimetre length of thread from the back of his tunic, which I deposited in a zip-lock sample bag.

“Would you mind letting me take one of your hairs as well?”

It looked like he was giving me the ok. He did as I asked, without resisting, and as I did he asked me a question.

“Have you come from somewhere far away like me, Eri?”

“Don't call me that. Did you get that from Karin? Alright, listen here. I'm not “Eri”, I'm not “Old man Eri”, and I'm not “Eri-pie”. I'm Erice. Utsumi Erice.”

“Hmm.”

He remained staring at me, giving me no indication whether or not he'd understood. His reaction was a little dispiriting, but I continued anyway. If I kept talking, I might be able to glean something.

“It's not all that far away, really. I was born in Shinjuku. I'm fourteen now, so I guess you could call me a middle schooler, but I don't usually go to school anyway.”

“What's a 'school'?”

“A school is...it's where you go to learn. It's a big building where lots of children all go. Or at least, that's what I hear it was like before the war. They've changed a lot since then.”

“You don't go to school, Eri?”

“I told you to call me Erice. And I don't need to. I'm passing my academic evaluations, and I'm getting the credits I need from extracurricular courses. And I show up for health inspections and such.”

“You don't want to go to school, do you?”

I grit my teeth. He'd hit the nail on the head. He was annoyingly good at that.

“It's...not a matter of whether I want to go or not. I...I have more important things to do.”

“You're alone.” He cocked his head, and then broke out into another smile. “Just like me.”

I suppressed my irritation silently as I tapped at my tablet. I was trying a search for the symbol embroidered on his chest, but nothing was coming up. Just in case, I tried accessing the city network, but no-one had registered any missing Servants - although it wasn't as though that was a frequent occurrence anyway. I could ask my master about any information that might be being suppressed on a public level, but I could hardly go blithely to her cap-in-hand. Not after I had tried to hide from her that I had disobeyed her orders and let Kundry go.

Even so, there was one theory as to his identity that I had managed to come up with. Spurred on by that, I decided to bite the bullet.

“So, which Servant are you?”

“...?”

He tilted his head in confusion. Was he trying to play dumb? It didn't look like an act, at any rate. It seemed that somehow, he really didn't understand the concept of a Servant. Was that even possible?

“I'm asking about your true name. Although your nickname will do, if that's better-known.”

Once, Servants would not have revealed their true name lightly, but that was before the war. In the modern world, it had become more of a question of personal privacy. No small number of Servants had origins that could complicate life in Mosaic City if they became known to others, and the degree of discretion necessary might also change depending on their relationship with their Master.

This boy likely wouldn't talk about his true name if his unknown Master did not wish it. And all the more so if he didn't have one at all.

“Your name, I said. Tell me your name.”

“...Name?”

“That's right. Your name.”

“Don't you know it?”

“...Huh? Don't I...you mean my name?”

It was supposed to be me asking the questions here. I was starting to feel that if I just allowed this wide-eyed child to talk at his own pace, I would end up the one being profiled.

Abruptly, he opened his mouth again. “There's something I've lost.”

“Something you've lost? What did you lose?”

“I don't know.”

I heaved a sigh. At the same moment, a sharp stench once more pricked at my nostrils.

“It sounds like you're suffering from memory loss. I think things like that can happen after summoning...? Well, anyway, there's nothing we can do for now. And I'm about at my wits' end, so right now I'm going to have a shower. I'll let you use the bathroom too, so go on ahead.”

“Show-er?”

“A shower. You know, like a bath.”

“...A bath?”

“Wait, you really don't know? Don't tell me you don't even know what a shower is? Hang on, have you ever even had a wash?”

He shook his head. Apparently he really hadn't ever experienced a bath. Although even if he hadn't, surely the idea itself fell under common knowledge.

Do your job, Holy Grail.

For as long as I had lived here, my bathroom had been rather chic. It had a French-style interior, and was easily wide enough for two people. The star of the show was a shallow enamel bathtub, pulled straight from a western movie. Incidentally, the bedroom was decorated in equally charming fashion, and was the biggest reason I chose this apartment.

The design was uncharacteristically luxurious for a department store coffee shop. Either the owner had been extremely specific tastes...or from the beginning, this building had been designed with less-than-wholesome purposes in mind. Probably the latter. Not that that had anything to do with me; I was nothing more than a grateful beneficiary. But it did mean one more thing for Karin to tease me about.

I gritted my teeth, and led the boy by the hand to the bathroom. He was still dawdling, unsure as to what was going on. I had him take off his clothes and made him stand in the dressing room. Then I set to filling the bathtub, removing my own dirtied clothing as I did so. He's just a kid. What's there to be embarrassed about? Nothing! That's right, nothing at all.

There was still an outside chance that he would turn out to have the mind of a middle-aged man, but I'd cross that bridge if I came to it.

“I suppose I'd better put my swimsuit in to soak...ouch!”

Agony lanced through me as I twisted my body the wrong way. I re-treated the injury to my abdomen, and covered it over with a water-resistant patch. It was still undergoing accelerated recovery, and it was warm to the touch. The wound was serious enough that with the treatment methods of the past, oligemic shock and acute inflammation would have been unavoidable. But this new world had conquered death itself, and treatments for injuries and accidents had not been overlooked on the way. Many technologies had been developed during the war, and now I reaped the benefits.

“It looks like it hurts.”

“Well, maybe a little.”

His eyes were drawn to the scar on my ear, and he screwed up his face.

“It isn’t nice, is it? Every thorn-prick makes its own hole.”

“...You said it.”

Was he worrying that I might be left with a scar, in his own way? If so, he was quite the gentleman.

“But it's ok. Kouyou patched it up for me, so it'll heal with time.”

For my part, I carefully looked his naked body up and down once more. This was a vital step in my investigation, and thus an entirely proper and lawful act.

He was...definitely a boy, yep.

–

Once I had painstakingly washed away the cause of the stench, I finally entered the bathtub - along with the boy, who was trying to escape at any opportunity.

“It's hot.”

“That's what's good about it. Ordinary Servants love to take baths. They're all very happy to get in. There are even some who have baths as their Noble Phantasms. There's one who summons this great big bathchamber, called Terme di Caracalla...”

“I want to get out.”

He was pulling a very sullen expression, but at least he was being obedient.

I can't see any scars on him. His muscles and weight don't seem any different from a normal child's, either. I found it very hard to believe that he might be some kind of knight summoned in their youth. When he'd said that he didn't know what a bath was, the first thing I'd suspected was child abuse; Heroic Spirits who had come from such unhappy backgrounds were too numerous to count. But he showed no sign of having received that kind of treatment, or at least not outwardly.

My confidence in my hypothesis was growing stronger, and I decided to put it to the test.

–

I stretched out from the bathtub. With the steam-clouded mirror as my canvas, I drew a picture of a hat with my fingertip. It was a crude sketch of an old-fashioned, wide-brimmed men's hat with a slightly indented top, as seen from the side.

“Hey. Can you tell me what this is?” I asked him hesitantly, my chest pounding nervously. It only took a brief glance at the picture before he answered.

“It's...a snake.”

I started. For a moment, I was lost for words.

“It looks like it's eaten something big.”

He'd answered my question perfectly.

“It scares me a little.”

Droplets fell from his body as he shivered and turned away. I hadn't even imagined that he might show such a violent reaction. I quickly wiped away the picture on the mirror, and found myself patting his head to try and reassure him. I could feel the slickness of his wet hair and the warmth of his body through the palm of my hand.

“What about “B-612”? Or maybe you could call it “Besixdouze”?”

“Yes.” He nodded in answer. No hesitation.

“You know it?”

“It's a planet, isn't it? But there's no-one there.”

I was silent for a moment. That's right. It's a planet. Of course it is.

“I see...so there's no-one there. But I think...I might know your true name now.”’

B-612 was the name of an asteroid that orbited the solar system. It was not remarkable in any way, save for the fact that it had been discovered by a Japanese national. It would hardly be included in the common knowledge that the Holy Grail bestowed upon Servants. But that asteroid was named for a novella from a foreign country, and the title of that novella was “The Little Prince”.

On a sudden impulse, I embraced him. In the bathtub, I wrapped my arms around his narrow shoulders from behind, and squeezed him tight. So as not to break him. So as not to hurt him.

“If only...if only you had been my Servant...”

He showed no sign of answering me.

Before entering the bathtub, as I was washing myself, I had checked everywhere. Desperately, I had searched to see if Command Seals, the proof of a contract with a Servant, had appeared anywhere on my body. I had strained my eyes in the mirror, checking my back, beneath the translucent medical patch, even the soles of my feet. But they were nowhere to be seen.

Then I was no-one's Master. I could not have made any contract with this boy through the Grail. I was just the Reaper, the same as I had always been.

In that case, what had that sense of foreboding been?

What had that trembling been in my chest? That sense that something had begun that would change my life forever?

In the end, it had all just been my own wishful thinking.

–

After the bath, we retired to my living-cum-dining room, where a mahogany table had stood ever since this place was a cafe. The boy sat in a chair, working his way through a lasagne that I had microwaved from frozen. I was recording the day's events, tablet in hand and a towel around my head, and I was blushing as red as his bolognese sauce. I felt incredibly embarrassed. This boy hadn't even yet come of age, but I had suddenly embraced him, whispered something that felt almost like a confession of love, and then ended up crying. While naked, no less.

His only response, after a while had passed, had been to furrow his eyebrows and complain “It's hot”.

“Is that good?”, I asked.

“It tastes.”

“Really? Sounds great.”

The samples I had taken earlier were on the table. Both contents of the zip-lock bag had vanished, just as I had expected. Separated from his body, his hair and the thread from his tunic had ceased to exist in their pseudo-physical form, and had reverted to being part of his mana. In other words, his body and the clothes he wore were woven from the stuff. That made for strong evidence that he was a Servant - but it was unneeded, because an easier way to tell was right before my eyes. The clothes that I had left on the floor of the dressing room had since returned to a clean, dry state.

The scarf that he wore around his neck floated freely, with no regard for the laws of physics. Even while he was eating, it fluttered gently, as though rising upon the wind. Needless to say, there was no wind inside my apartment.

He couldn't be the Simoun...could he? The poison wind?

–

The night had grown late, and I wrestled with the sleepiness and exhaustion that assailed me as I stared at my tablet. I thought back to the words I had exchanged with the Flying Dutchman, Captain Van der Decken. Every word of the warning he had given me lay heavy on my breast.

Until it became clear that our enemy was the mad queen, he had maintained a policy of non-interference, and only once had he commented on my methods. He had been cursed by a devil of the ocean. My lot was not too dissimilar - for I too was cursed, and possessed by evil spirits. Living my life beyond the sight of the Grail, I might as well have been a naked offering to them. But that was also the reason that I'd lasted as long as I had in this job.

I had let my guard down. I had allowed myself to believe that Captain Van der Decken and I might have been able to find an understanding, as bearers of the same fate. But he had seen through those naïve expectations, and had roughly spurned my advances.

“You have grown to feel joy in the act of slaying Servants, under the pretence of executing the authority of the city. Though you think yourself the master of your spectres, they in turn use you.”

He was telling me, in a roundabout way, that I was intoxicated by the idea of being a superhero. That what I had believed to be pride was in fact conceit.

“Someday, Erice, you will call forth a great evil. And when that time comes, that which you have clung to so dearly will instead force you to your knees.”

Unable to accept his words and fiercely ashamed, I had retorted with some frivolous argument - although I could admit now that it had just been something I had cooked up to make myself feel better. At the time I had thought he was just trying to put me in my place, but thinking back on it now, his words might have been as much in reproach of himself as they had been for me. His relationship with his contractor Aheseurus - equal in spite of being Master and Servant - spoke more eloquently of his sincerity than words ever could.

“Are you paying attention, Erice?”

I was brought out of my reverie by my master's polite chiding.

“You seem very tired. Perhaps it might be for the best if you took a moment to rest in the break room? I can prepare the lecture material for your perusal later, if you'd like.”

I let out a whimper. This was embarrassing. My second disgrace this morning. I shook my head vigorously. My master nodded, and recommenced the lecture in a soft voice.

–

Her name was Caren Fujimura. She was the lecturer responsible for this class, and also my master. I had known her for as long as I could walk.

Outwardly, she appeared to be in her twenties. She had light amber eyes, and wavy, pale grey hair that cascaded down to the small of her back. Her body combined a slender build with voluptuous Hispanic curves. Most notable of all, however, was her impeccable sense of style. Nobody else could come close to its audacity. Today, too, she looked sharp as a knife.

Or at least, I thought so, but waxing lyrical on the subject only seemed to earn me pained smiles from Karin and others. Well, it wasn't as though I cared anyway. If I was the only one who could understand her magnificence, so be it.

“...?”

The boy, who had been quiet at my side for a long time, had begun focusing on my master when she had spoken to me. Now he turned his gaze to the skirt of my school uniform, then to his own trousers, and cocked his head. He turned his head to make one more pass, carefully comparing, and then spoke with some conviction.

“She isn't wearing anything down there.”

“That she isn't.”

My master really was incredible.

It was not on account of her position as my lecturer that I called Caren Fujimura my master. Nor was it on account of her being my fashion role model. She was inhuman, in every way, and not in the sense of being part of the new postwar humanity. She was an artificial intelligence – an AI.

More precisely, she was the municipal administration AI tasked with the management of the Akihabara ward. A human interface that allowed the Grail to communicate directly with the people of the city. A hybrid intelligence – the most valuable in the city – born of the fusion of summoning magecraft, modelled on the kind that called forth Heroic Spirits, and cutting-edge information engineering technology. Such was the true nature of Caren Fujimura.

–

Ms. Fujimura's lecture on pre-war human history continued. Today's topic was the history and profiles of the great pioneers. Those brave adventurers who sailed west on crude wooden vessels, carving a path to an unknown lands. Those bold explorers who discovered – or rediscovered – the distant new world, and secured the shipping routes that would become the lifeblood of a global civilisation.

–

She spoke of Eric the Red, who crossed from Europe to Greenland and settled there. Of his son, Lief Ericsson, who made landfall in the northeast of North America and named it “Vinland”. Of the roots of the Polynesians, who propagated across the islands of the south Pacific in canoes little better than rafts, and were sometimes set adrift by rogue currents to journey thousands of kilometres.

Of Christopher Columbus, the conqueror who never once lost sight of his dream; who sailed to the farthest reaches of the western sea aboard the legendary Santa Maria, and there rediscovered the new world. Of Vasco de Gama, who crossed the Cape of Good Hope and pioneered the Indian trade route. Of the Cape itself - the southern tip of the African continent and one of the great perils of the Age of Discovery, where Captain Van der Decken's Dutch galleon met its fate upon the rocks.

She told of Ferdinand Magellan, whose vessels first circumnavigated the world. Although he perished before the completion of his journey, his feat proclaimed to the world beyond all doubt that the earth was not flat, but round. Through him, the people came to know that the world they lived on was just one more celestial body like the moon or Mars, forging silently onwards through the void.

And here too was the first captain to circumnavigate the globe: Francis Drake, the privateer! Ah, here was the magnificent Golden Hind! I had already been absorbed in the lecture, but here my excitement reached its zenith, my mind filling with daydreams of the open sea.

From Servants who had lived through the same era, I had heard tales that Drake, the admiral who broke the back of the invincible Spanish Armada, had in truth been a woman more gallant than any man. That the man who set the sun had, in fact, been the woman who set the sun. I personally found them impossible to believe, and I'd also heard them refuted by other pirate Servants. Stories like that ain't nothin' more'n piss in the wind, girly. Drake was a man, sure as my beard is long.

It was a common enough story when it came to Servants. Some ages of history had placed little importance on gender distinctions. Conversely, in others women had been so oppressed that they could only perform heroic deeds whilst disguised in men's clothing. Such confusion was liable to muddy historical records.

Even if Drake had been female, it would do nothing to tarnish the glory of her legend.

–

My enriching study time was now approaching its end, although I had struggled to focus on all of the contents of the lecture.

“I would like to give a brief introduction to one final figure. An American man whose one small step signified a giant leap for mankind.”

The screen changed in sync with Ms. Fujimura's commentary. Now it displayed a world of extreme contrasts: a sea of grey regolith, and the dark vacuum of space. Within the shadow thrown by a lunar lander, a figure in a space suit descended a ladder to stand upon the moon's surface.

“This was the first man to stand on the face of the moon. He, too, counts among the great pioneers of the human race.”

“...Eh...?”

A single voice arose, quavering not with wonder but with astonishment.

“A human went to the moon...? A living human?”

The source of the voice was none other than the young girl in the front row.

“Indeed. It would be fifty-six years before the modern day. Three astronauts ventured to the moon, and two among them descended to walk upon its surface.”

“More than half a century ago? There weren't even control units back then capable of calculating orbital trajectories-”

“There were.”

Another video resource flashed onto the screen. This time it showed a bulky copper box that must have weighed dozens of kilograms, and a small keyboard. The commentary indicated that this was the Apollo spaceship's guidance computer.

“Single-core, 8-bit. A most splendid computer to be mounted in the lunar lander. It likely had less than one ten-thousandth the processing power of the smartphones you all have in your pockets. And yet it was enough to guide the lander by autopilot, even though human error necessitated its rebooting just prior to landing.”

Ms. Fujimura sounded almost triumphant now. There had been a strange change in her expression, although it was so slight I doubted anyone but me would even have a chance of noticing. Perhaps, for an AI, it was a point of pride to be able to talk about the vital contribution a computer had made to one of humanity's most historic achievements.

No, that's not it...

She was delighting in the shock her student was experiencing, from her first contact with this knowledge. She was revelling in it. The girl retracted her body and sat back down in her seat, fuming.

“That's irresponsible. It's reckless.”

“Indeed it was. It was one of the most reckless ventures in human history, and precious lives were lost along the way.”

“That's all the more reason it could never have happened!”

As though scoffing at our worries from across the ages, the portly figure of the spaceman upon the screen began to moonwalk, gleefully bounding across the moon's surface. He was humming to himself merrily, like some shameless delinquent.

“Rather carefree, isn't he? One would never think only a thin spacesuit separated him from the zero-pressure vacuum and the hellish 110-degree temperatures outside.”

My master smiled faintly, as she expressed her admiration for the men in the video. Even when they raced their moon buggies across the lunar plain, they were rough and careless, as though they were driving go-karts at some amusement park. The girl at the front returned to gazing at the video, a flabbergasted expression on her face.

“Ah...ahaha...!” I couldn't help bursting out in laughter.

Her shoulders trembled a little. I'd picked an awful time.

–

The “Great Pioneers” instalment concluded by saying that although the human race had raised its flag in one great unknown after the other – first the new world beyond the seas, then the distant skies, and finally the void of space – landing a group of carefree delinquents on the surface of the moon had marked the end of their exploits. Not once since had they set their sights on anything farther. The Apollo generation's dream of a grand conquest of the stars remained a dream to this day. Mars, Venus and the outer space beyond the solar system remained unknown to the print of human boot.

I wondered if perhaps the human race had, somewhere along its way, lost sight of something incredibly precious.

I wondered if perhaps someday there might rise once again, on the edge of the farthest frontier, someone worthy of being called a hero. Someone who would lead mankind forth once more towards a new world.

“Hey, there you are, Eri-pie! Wanne grab some food?”

Karin burst into the classroom just as the lecture had ended. She must have guessed where I would be. I had thought she might have returned home after the events of last night, but she must have remained in Akihabara.

“Oh, it's you, Karin. I'll hold off for now. I've still got things I need to do.”

“Ehh? Hasn't your class just wrapped up?”

“Well, yeah, but I'm not talking about class.”

“Oh, the shrimp's tagging along? Good, good. You put some proper breakfast in him, right? What's he been eatin'?”

“Cereal. And some water.”

“Oh, ouch. You know that's child abuse, right? Like, I should probably be calling a social worker about now?”

“Just give it a rest, geez...”

I hadn't been back to my apartment for the past few days, and my reserves had all expired, so I had ended up with very little by way of food. I hadn't so much as forced cereal and water on him as noticed his interest in the food I was hurriedly shovelling down and shared a little.

Servants didn't typically require meals in the usual sense, but in the post-war world where they had become commonplace, more care was being paid to improving their quality of life. There were even some citizens' groups that insisted that they had a right to live the same as humans. In my view, Servants were fundamentally inhuman existences, and I saw those attempts to impose human restrictions on something unbound by the framework of nature as little more than evidence of their Masters' egotism – although I couldn't deny that might just have been the bitter prejudice of a have-not speaking.

“Sssssssup! Morning, Caren!”

“Good morning to you too, Karin.”

Ms. Fujimura approached the two of us.

“Karin...and Caren...?”

The boy looked between the two, confused.

“Yeah, you got it. Pain in the ass, right? The Caren in Akihabara has this kinda grown-up, sexy feel to her. The one back home is a lot more, uh...wha-chaa!”

“What's “wha-chaa!” supposed to mean? And you should be calling her Ms. Fujimura.” Karin had drawn one knee up to strike a kung-fu pose. I gave her a smack.

“Karin lives in the Shibuya district. The me who lives there is a drawer for a Chinese restaurant.” My master smiled gently. I wondered what it felt like, to know there were different versions of herself active all over the city.

A few elderly students were still hanging around in the classroom, chatting amongst themselves. My master ushered us from the room, and we relocated to a terrace protruding from midway up the building. This was a leisure space, and it commanded a wide view of the sprawl of Akihabara. At this early hour, the sea breeze was light, and the sun was not too strong. It was just cool enough that that shaded areas were still a little chilly.

The distant rumble of a train smoothly pulling in from the oversea viaduct drifted to us from across the water, along with the faint toot of its horn. Beyond the horizon, where the railway vanished, lay Shinjuku and Shibuya.

“So this child is the Servant with the unknown Master?”

“That's right.”

I had already informed her about the situation in advance, but I took the opportunity to introduce the boy to her in person.

“To tell the truth, I already have a good guess as to his identity. Although he doesn't really react to what I say most of the time. He doesn't seem to be entirely all there.”

I took the plunge, and told her about last night's discoveries – hoping somewhere deep down this made up for the regret I felt at keeping quiet about Kundry's flight and the events that had followed.

“Antoine de Saint-Exupéry...? A French author, as I recall, and one of great renown. He was also an accomplished pilot, and served in the Second World War. You believe this child's identity to be this Saint-Exupéry?”

The object of our scrutiny, the child in question, showed no reaction to the name. He took a sip of the freshly-squeezed orange juice that Karin had bought from a juice stand, and pulled a face. Sour.

“His appearance is a poor match, even taking into account the age difference.” I could sense my master checking records in the background, and cross-referencing them with the child in front of her. I pressed on with my next hypothesis.

“I think he's the Little Prince. Don't you think he looks just like Saint-Exupéry's illustrations?”

The Little Prince was an allegorical short story. It was the last completed work by Saint-Exupéry, who passed away at a young age. Whether online or in physical bookshops, one would inevitably find it in the children's book category, but it couldn't be more different to the fairy tales it rubbed shoulders with on the shelves. That said, nor was it something like the Bible, whose every line existed to be quoted and venerated. It was a comforting presence, like a familiar friend at your side, always ready with a lighthearted quip or a sobering anecdote. Or so I thought, anyway.

“Eh? So you're a prince, are you? Hmmmm? Now you mention it, he does look kinda regal. Think he'd make a good match with my Momi? She is a princess, you know. Whaddaya think?”

Karin pinched the boy's cheek, grinning wickedly, and he turned his head away in clear discomfort. I decided to leave them to it, and added to my master that last night the boy had answered my riddle with the keyword that only the Little Prince would know.

“I see...” She struck a contemplative pose as I continued.

“I'm aware that he doesn't look very much like Saint-Exupéry. That's why I'm wondering if he could be an author Servant who's taken on the form of a character from one of his own works. I'm sure there are examples of that.”

“There are indeed. Many authors' works leave a far greater impression on the world to come than the men themselves. Many more choose such forms of their own accord. However, if you would permit me my personal opinion - ”

She left a beat, pushing up her glasses.

“ - I would conjecture that Saint-Exupéry would project himself not onto the Little Prince, but onto the Pilot who narrates the story. It was, after all, his own experience of crash-landing in the Sahara desert that formed the basis for the book.”

“Ah...yes, I...I suppose...”

She was right. Given the content of the book, it was an entirely legitimate criticism. She was saying that this child was likely something fundamentally different to just some writer Servant with perverse tendencies and a strong capacity for empathy.

While I hadn't been watching, the subject of out conversation had begun sipping on a honey-lemon drink. He must have traded his orange juice with Karin. This was evidently more to his tastes; he was smiling broadly.

“I have conferred with the Caren units in the other districts, but he does not appear to match any Servant under our jurisdiction. I cannot even venture more than vague hypotheses as to his class.” It seemed that as an AI, she was capable of communicating with her other units in the background even as she talked with me.

So he wasn't a lost Servant who had wandered in from some other district. At the very least, we now knew that there was no record of Saint-Exupéry being registered as a Servant anywhere in Mosaic City.

“Please do not be disheartened, Erice. I do not mean to dismiss your opinion; the possibility remains. And just by having secured him, you have already done a wonderful job.”

“I suppose...”

“He seems to be stable, aside from his memories, so I will fit him with a classification tag. For as long as he continues to reside in this town, I will refer to him as “The Little Prince (TBD)””.

“...'Brackets...TBD'...?”

“Guess so. Would be a pain in the ass if he didn't have a name, right? Brackets, TBD.” Karin cheerily patted the Little Prince (TBD) on the head.

“Um...about last night's incident...” I straightened my back, and tried to change the topic to my report of the previous night's events – and suddenly my master stood up from her seat, looking at me ruefully.

“I owe you an apology, Erice. A matter has sprung up that requires my urgent attention. Would you mind submitting your report as a brief text document?”

“Eh...? I mean...of course.”

I felt relieved, but at the same time more concerned. Whatever this urgent matter was, this was the first I'd heard of it, and my master was not known for changing her schedule lightly.

“But what do you think I should do about him?”

“That was my next point. I am sorry to ask this of you, but would you mind taking charge of him for the time being? If his identity becomes clear during that time, all the better.”

“Eh-?”

My master's eyes narrowed into a smile as my mouth clamped shut. The already-unusual situation had just taken a turn for the stranger.

“No way, no way, no way. Isn't that going to be a problem? With my job and everything?”

“No other individual in Akihabara is so equipped to tackle as exceptional a case. To call you a specialist in the handling of Servants would not be an exaggeration.”

It would. It absolutely would. My specialisation was not the handling of Servants - it was murder. Restraining the most villainous of Servants, and keeping them under strict surveillance, I could do. But I was not nearly so capable of attending to the needs of a young boy, barely any different from an ordinary human child, who didn't even know his own name.

Karin chipped in. “Can't he just bunk at my place? What's an extra brother or two, anyway?”

“Quite a lot, I think...”

Karin's suggestion was extraordinarily irresponsible, but my master only inclined her head. “My thanks for your hospitality Karin, but I am afraid that I cannot yet say what threat this child poses. I cannot permit him to reside with ordinary citizens.”

“I'm tellin' you, it's cool. I've got Momi, don't I? It'll be fine!”

Karin dug in deeper, and my master responded with another polite but firm refusal. In all honesty, it would have been a weight off my mind – although I wouldn't say that the notion of Karin taking responsibility for a portion of my job didn't grate on me a little.

Just as I was becoming aware of my own troublesome misgivings, a newcomer hurriedly approached the recreation space where we were conversing.

“Caren Fujimura? If you wouldn't mind, there's something I'd like to ask you.”

It was her – the girl in the hat from the front row. She had run out of the classroom just before the lecture had ended, conversing with someone over her smartphone. She must have returned now that her conversation had ended.

“It's nice to see you, Haruko. Do you have a question for me about the lecture?”

“That's right. I wanted to ask about the role of astrology during the Age of Discovery-” A sudden squall blew through the terrace, and she clutched at her hat, pulling it down tightly over her ears. I saw my chance and hurriedly forced my way into the conversation – although really, she had been the one who had interrupted us.

“H-hang on a moment. I was already talking with Ms. Fujimura...”

She glared at me in silence. Her brilliant peppermint-green eyes glinted from behind a parting in her fringe. “It was only thanks to the repeated interruptions from you and your Servant that I didn't have the opportunity to ask these questions during the lecture.”

“Well, I'm...I'm sorry about that. But, well, you see, he's not exactly my Servant...”

“Is that so? My apologies. But as his guardian, you should be more conscious of your responsibility to ensure he does not cause trouble for others in public spaces.”

Her motions – her gait, and even the way she was holding down her hat - were clipped and precise. She was barely taller than the innocent child drinking juice by my side, but she somehow seemed many years his elder. Beneath the white gown I had seen so often in lectures, she was wearing a slightly old-fashioned bright yellow blouse.

I'm positive...I've seen those clothes before somewhere... Now where was it?

“Um...you mentioned astrology, didn't you? If you're curious about the involvement of magecraft in human history, why don't you go to the library? You'd be able to research it as much as you wanted.”

I'd intended it as a sincere and respectful recommendation...but instead she expelled a short, sharp sigh, and her attitude became palpably frostier. This was getting awkward.

“You're telling me to go to the library? That would be far less efficient than asking an administrative AI – I mean, Ms. Fujimura directly. I would have thought that someone who went to the trouble of attending lectures would be cognizant of the vast difference in value between the vague knowledge one can acquire through reference materials, and the clear and consistent explanations that can be gained through conversations with an expert in the field. And if you do not understand that, then I must ask why you insist on wasting others' time with your indolence.”

“W-what do you mean, 'indolence'...?”

“Well damn. Kid's got a mouth on her...”

Things were going from bad to worse - now Karin had taken an interest. If I left this alone, it could easily easily escalate beyond my control and into an all-out brawl. She was free to pick whichever fights she wanted, but I wanted to avoid any risk of worsening my relationships with other students and ending up barred from attending.

“Come on, Karin. Cut it out. I'm not mad or anything.”

“...Hm? Wait a second, I'm sure...” Karin looked as though she'd just noticed something. The girl hurriedly pulled her hat back down over her head. My master had called this girl Haruko, hadn't she?

“I too have important matters to attend to. I really do have to hurry.”

“I...I see. Sorry about all this.” She had come all the way to this terrace searching for my master, and I wanted to show some recognition of her dedication. In that sense, we were kindred spirits. “If I'm not mistaken, you don't come to lectures very often, do you? If you wouldn't mind, I could let you borrow my old notes...”

“If you're going to mock me so, I hope you're prepared for the consequences.”

“Eh? Did...did I say something wrong?” How short was this girl's fuse? I desperately looked to Karin for help, but she only shook her head as though to say there was nothing she could do. And then, in that moment -

“I think that's quite enough, Erice.”

Another newcomer – a woman, who had not been in the classroom – strolled towards us, calling out to me with uncomfortable familiarity. Her footsteps clacked on the floor as she approached.

“Welcome. Your arrival is earlier than I had expected.” Ms. Fujimura, who had been maintaining a position of neutrality in our argument, greeted her in an oddly forced tone of voice.

“It was your message that hurried me here, Caren. You said that I might have the opportunity to see something interesting.” She was dressed in a vintage black sailor uniform, and her long silver hair was left to hang freely. I knew this woman – this woman who looked so out-of-place in Akihabara, who clad herself in an elegant shroud of bygone days.

“Chitose... What...what are you doing here...?”

Now it made sense. Caren's urgent matter must have been her.

The girl in the hat must have caught my murmured whisper. “Chitose...? What kind of civilian could call directly on a municipal administration AI without an appointment...?”

I heard the rushing sound of an intake of breath, and she turned sharply back around to the woman once more. Now that they were standing face-to-face, her small frame meant that she had to crane her neck to look her in the eyes.

“You aren't...Manazuru Chitose, are you...? The Stigmata?”

“...I am indeed. It's been a while since I last heard that name.”

The girl let out a whimper. “How could this happen...”

Her reaction was so violent, I thought for a moment that they might have been about to duel it out on the spot. In stark contrast to her brief reverie, now she was tripping over herself to be polite. She scrambled backwards three paces, and lowered her head woodenly. Her ears were glowing bright red, and from the glimpses I could catch through her bangs her cheeks were similarly flushed.

One of her fingers brushed against the side of her hat. With a swish, it folded in on itself and collapsed into a hairband. With her face now exposed, she bowed her head once more.

“I apologise wholeheartedly for my insolence, Stigmata.”

Chitose only shook her head quietly. “You had business with Caren, did you not? I do not mind waiting a while.”

“I-it was nothing! Certainly, nothing of consequence next to your duties.” She was so stiff and anxious now, her haughty demeanour not two minutes ago seemed like a distant memory. It was actually a little adorable - although in general, I found people's tendency to become so ill at ease in Chitose's presence rather hard to deal with.

For her part, Chitose might have been responding amiably, but that should not have been mistaken for warmth or compassion. Her gaze fell upon the boy seated at our table, and for an instant, her eyes were those of a serpent that had found its prey.

“Yes, that's the boy”, she said, as though talking to herself. “I can't even tell which class his Saint Graph is. I suppose the world is full of surprises.”

I confess - my interest was aroused, and I couldn't suppress a sadistic curiosity. What reaction would her gaze stir in him? Would he show awe? Animosity? Would he ignore her completely, as though erasing his own existence?

But instead – he smiled. A beaming smile, like a shining star. A clear window straight to his heart.

Silence reigned for a second, and then Chitose smiled back at him thinly. Next to me, I felt the girl with the hat flinch. And then, her expression relaxing into a slightly mischievous smile, she approached me, and laid a pale white fingertip on my shoulder.

“I charge you with monitoring this child, Erice.”

“Understood”, I muttered. She gave a small shrug at my disgruntled response.

It looked like our conversation was over. Once Chitose had made a clear decision, my master would abide by it. I stood up from my seat, bowed to my master, and accompanied the boy from the terrace as I'd been instructed.

“Who the hell was that?”, Karin asked breezily, once we were in the corridor. “Gave me the creeps.” Just this once, I was grateful for her laid-back demeanour.

“And what's up with you, anyway? Didn't you have something to ask Caren about? You sure you're ok just leaving like this?”

“It doesn't matter. Let's just go.”

I put the building behind me, as though I were running away from something.

#Fate/Requiem #translation #light novel

231 notes · View notes

kissmeonearth- · 4 years

Text

2020

I was 17 when I created my first tumblr account (holla to my decemberlights account) and used it heavily in my early 20s. In December 2019, I turned 28 and time fucking flies.

Looking back on all my old entries, so much has and hasn’t changed. From 19-21, I wrote about how I wanted to travel the world, my anxieties about getting older, and what was the beginning of the relationship with my now ex-boyfriend. In one of my entries, I literally wrote that I wanted to be married at 25 and have kids in my late 20s. I was trying to figure out how to get my career started when I was stuck doing shift work at a dead-end assembly plant.

In some ways, I still have those same anxieties. When I graduated university in 2015, I went back to college to do a 6 month course in graphic design. I ended up working at an agency for 3.5 years right after I finished college.

In 2019, I took a leave of absence from my job because I wanted to travel. At that point, I was so tired and burnt out. I was grossly underpaid, but I did it because I needed ~*eXpErIeNcE*~. I spent 5 months travelling around Asia and spent 3 weeks in Europe. I desperately wanted a break, but I also felt like I had nothing going for me at that point. Travelling was an escape because I wanted to find myself, but also it felt like the right time to get up and go. I met my dad’s side of the family in Cambodia and France. I met tons of people, spent a lot of time alone, wondered around streets, did a lot of food tours, visited every art museum I could see, did a lot of hikes, almost died on a boat, and spent way too much time transiting through airports. It opened my mind to the world and helped me get in touch with my Asian roots. But more importantly, the experience taught me how to be comfortable with myself and how to be resourceful.

When I was last on tumblr, David and I had just started dating. I wrote about how we met, how much he liked me, and how uncertain I was about him initially. I wrote about how we started dating and how happy I was in the beginning of our relationship. That was in 2013.

In 2017, we broke up. It was one of the hardest breakups I ever experienced. At the time, my grandpa had passed away about 2-3 months prior and that was already rough on me. We broke up for a lot of reasons, but I think the main one was that we were growing apart and didn’t see eye-to-eye on our future. Towards the end of our relationship, I desperately wanted us to move in together and get engaged. We were planning on it and he even bought me a ring. Looking back on it now, I think if we had gone through with it, we would’ve broken up shortly after anyway. Moving in together and getting engaged would’ve amplified our problems even more.

So to the 2011 me – no, you didn’t get married at 25 and you sure as hell didn’t have kids in your late 20s. I later realized after me and David broke up that I just didn’t want to have kids. And to all the boys I meet on dating apps, this doesn’t mean I hate children, I just have no desire to be a parent.

I also realized that had me and David stayed together, I honestly don’t think my life would have been the same. I think I would’ve been complacent. I wouldn’t have grown in the ways I have since we broke up. He isn’t a bad guy, but it’s just unfortunate that we didn’t work out. It’s a lot clearer to me now that we weren’t really meant to be in the long run, but the relationship taught me a lot about what it meant to be in a meaningful, loving relationship.

In 2014 (sorry for jumping around), I was diagnosed with anxiety. I never realized I had it until I was formally diagnosed and it only became more amplified when I was in my last year of university. I went to therapy for 2 months, but stopped because I felt it wasn’t working. In November 2019, I decided to make the conscious choice to go to therapy again.

I’ve been incredibly private about my anxiety because I’ve always been told that I always worry about nothing. Having my parents be extremely dismissive of my problems made me incredibly reluctant to seek help. It was only more recently that I felt my anxiety was starting to get worse again. I’ve always had this overwhelming thought in my head that I was never good enough and it was always everyone else over me. I learned through therapy that my anxiety was a symptom of a larger problem, which was my low self-esteem. As of now, I’m still working on it and I know it’s going to take a lot of time to undo the years of negativity. I’m hopeful because I want to get better and I feel a strong sense of responsibility to make it happen.

At 28, I am still hopeful.

But I’m also terrified.

I realized that the beauty of life is that you have no idea what’s going to happen. Sometimes it surprises you, and sometimes you just need to have blind faith when you take that step into the unknown. Part of my anxiety was letting go of what I couldn’t control. I had a friend tell me (even though I’m not religious) that she prays to God that he gives her strength to always handle what’s coming next. I think that’s a great way to frame things and brought a different perspective how people handle their challenges.

I might not have everything, but at the end of the day I’m grateful to be alive. Everyday is a new day to try again, to start again, and maybe get closer to where I need to be.

And if you actually read this far, thank you. Not sure why I felt compelled to write this, but I feel a lot better letting it all out.

#personal

3 notes · View notes

itsanerdlife · 6 years

Text

What Once Was 12

Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Warnings: Angst. Unprotected Sex. Assumed Cheating. Drinking. Flash Backs to fights, breaking up, and cheating.

You live a good life with a man, Landon, who you think might ask that really big question while visiting your mom for the weekend. When you run into the boy from your childhood, the boy who stole your heart at eight and your innocence at sixteen; all grown up as a man. The train of your life comes off the tracks .Your boyfriend doesn’t propose, instead saying he wants a break, you end up in familiar arms. But is it the right man or was a crush at eight nothing more than school yard play spilling into your destructive teen years?

Cali pours the pale colored, healthy, fruity, juice into a wine glass for you, as your mother fills a glass for Roxy. She grins handing Roxy the glass, you sniff the glass Cali hands you, making a face.

“So, you must be that pretty ass blonde bitch, of Eggsy’s.” Your mom grins, trying to not laugh. The sip of juice threatening to come out of your nose as you slap a hand over your mouth. Cali is rolling laughing, your mom winks at you.

“Not the worst thing I’ve been called, I’ll take the compliment.” Roxy laughs, handing you a napkin.

“Watch that old bitch, she lies.” You smirk at your mother.

“And don’t let her lie, the apple didn’t even fall off the tree.” Cali hands over the box of doughnuts to Roxy.

“I can see why Eggsy enjoys being around you.” She nods, a small laugh as she picks a doughnut.

“Well she does let him come and go like a horny cat burglar.” Your mom shrugs, sipping.

“No wonder she’s pregnant.” Cali giggles, the two of them clink glasses.

“I’m going to replace the both of you.” You warn them.

“Where my ladies at?” The front door opens, and a booming chuckle fills the empty front hall. Brandon walks into the kitchen, he pauses looking around the room. “Whoa, not what I was expecting.” He chuckles. He kisses the top of Cali’s head, before moving on to your mom.

“Brandon baby.” She holds of the glass of wine to him, he takes a drink, before handing it back to him.

“Rox.” He chuckles, kissing her cheek.

“Big guy.” You laugh, waving your hand to the doughnuts.

“Ay little momma.” He chuckles, kissing the side of your head. “What’s in your cup?” He picks up and smells it, he makes the same face you did.

“Stop, it’s healthy!” Cali laugh. “All the good stuff she needs for growing that little peanut.” You and Brandon look at each other as he hands your glass back.

“That’s all you, love.” He chuckles. You and Roxy stood together, glasses in hand, doughnuts in the other, as you tell her little stories from when you and Eggsy were growing up together.

Eggsy laid on the couch with JB tucked into his side, on the inside of the couch. His phone dings on the coffee table, Brandon Sent You a Snap the screen reads. Eggsy swipes, opening it up, a picture of Roxy and Y/N, in her mum’s kitchen. He sits up suddenly disrupting JB’s nap, as he looks closer at the picture, the two of them are holding wine glasses and doughnuts. He closes out of the app, dialing his best friends number quickly.

“Is she drinking?! Why is Roxy there?!” He doesn’t wait for Brandon to greet him.

“Breathe mate.” Brandon chuckles. “It’s some health nut juice Cali picked up, and apparently they’re good.” His voice was a little low, like he was in another room trying to keep quiet.

“But she won’t talk to me?” He sighs, defeat rushing his body.

“You show up with doughnuts, she might let you through the door.” He chuckles quietly.

“Doughnuts?” Eggsy scratches the back of his head.

“They’ve gone through a dozen and half that’s Y/N on her own.” He snorts.

“Let’s hope this works.” Eggsy gets up, hanging up the phone JB follows in his footsteps.

You wander into the front hall, the knock on the front door pulling you from the living room and the conversation. When you open the door, your heart does a little spin of delight. Standing on your porch is Eggsy, brown bag in hand, and JB at his feet. JB looks ecstatic, his tail going, mouth open and it makes you grin down at him. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth as you look up at Eggsy who holds up the bag.

“A peace offering, I swear.” He smirks. You knew what was in the bag, you whip around looking into the living room, the four of them all turn looking away from you, suddenly engaged in conversation. You sigh, turning back around you look from Eggsy to JB to the bag. It was sweet, and you did miss him, things were a mess right now, but he was always your best friend aside from Cali. This might be his baby, you couldn’t really push him away for something you mistook.

“Want to join us?” You nod towards the living room with a small smile. “We’re talking dinner and swapping stories.” You step out of the way, JB trots into the house, tail going making you grin again.

“Doughnuts for dinner?” Eggsy kisses your cheek, closing the door behind him.

“Shut up.” You laugh, taking the bag from him.

“Welcome to the next seven to eight months of pregnancy.” Your mom laughs from the living room.

“Bet I know a few stories your mum doesn’t know.” Eggsy grins as you both sit down in the living room, the bag of doughnuts in your lap. The grin on your face slips as you look up from the bag, blinking at Eggsy.

“I’m so going to regret this.” You sigh, pulling out a random doughnut and biting into it, Brandon laughs leaning over, you put the doughnut out to him letting him take a bite.

“Pay back is a bitch, Unwin.” Cali giggles, holding up her glass giving the air a cheers with her glass.

“Cali girl, you sure you want to throw down your cards? With your past?” Eggsy smirks at her as Brandon laughs, pouring a drink for Eggsy at the bar in the living room. Cali stops laughing, her eyes grow wide, and she slowly sinks into her chair. You feed JB a small piece of doughnut, Eggsy shoots you a look, turning he tips his head watching you. Your mouth pushing into a O, your eyes wide at being caught, as you slowly feed JB another piece of breading. “Fucking trouble.” He shakes his head, JB licks your fingers gratefully making you giggle. “You ever hear the story about the five little words and Y/N?” Eggsy turns looking at the room. Your mouth falls open, your eyes growing wider as you stare at Eggsy.

“We need more wine!” Roxy laughs, clapping her hands. “It’s getting good in here!” She let’s Brandon pull her up and she heads for the wine rack behind your mother’s bar.

“I like her.” Your mother smirks, jerking her thumb towards Roxy.

“Lush.” You hiss, grinning at your mom.

“Slutty slut.” She hisses back, the two of you cracking up. Eggsy rolls his eyes, shaking his head at the two of you.

Updated List: @mo320 @rileyloves5 @irepeldirt @elle88531 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @violinbetty @cece-lives-here @kazuha159 @petersunderroos @geeksareunique @pcterpvrker @hunter-demigod-timelord @breezy1415 @yallneedtrek @sarahp879 @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @sgarrett49 @magellan-88 @mariekoukie6661 @bluephoenix394 @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @witchymarvelspacecase @lovemarvelousfics @bellamouse16 @rockagurl @ultrawholockedunicorn @paranoiadestroyah @allyp1023 @justmeinthisworldblr @kgbrenner @tequilavet @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @bridgetlemonade @alyssaj23 @nerdyandexhausted @lucifersnipnips @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @poetsheart @sherlockianonfire91 @bluebird214 @ingridsigne @eggsy-unwinnn @roobierubyroobieruby @deanwinchestersrifle @tgwltw @teenagetragediesforeveryone @sweet-honey15 @marlenej1 @crazyblonde124 @itsemmyb @lesmiserablememelovingfuck @importanttimemachinenerd @shortiiqt16 @xlatinaaxx @zoom1374

what Once Was: @ladysnowren @dkpink123 @enoraturner @thefandomimagines @kgbrenner @misspygmypie @mellxander1993 @fandomsstolemylife00 @thatphantomhivemistress

#Kingsman #Eggsy Unwin x Reader #Kingsman Fanfiction #Eggsy x Reader #What Once Was #Eggsy Unwin Series #Kingsman Series #Eggsy Series

128 notes · View notes

zanytimetravelenthusiast-blog · 4 years

Text

TikVideoCyborg Review Discount And Large Bonus

TikVideoCyborg Evaluation

TikVideoCyborg is a VERY FIRST app that can instantly post videos to TikTok from desktop! (no other application can do it prior to). This implies FULL AUTOMATION for optimum traffic.

The best part of that application is creating video for TikTok 100% automatic with simply keyword - NO VIDEO CREATION OR EDITING.

You just enter key phrase, this application will certainly most likely to Youtube, finds video clips with imaginative commons license (lawful to make use of). And afterwards it makes either routine or stop motion video clip from Youtube and also verticalize it! (among popular category of TikTok video clips are stop motion video clips).

All video clip creation is 100% AUTOMATIC making use of AI. You do not need manual editing and enhancing, organizing slides, rendering, cropping/trimming and so on.

Ultimate Tik Tok Overview-- Exactly How to Tik Tok & & How to Make a Tik Tok Video Clip that Obtains Likes (Component 2)

Interact

There are 5 icons to your right that enable you to do various TikVideoCyborg interactions.

Scroll to your left or click the account symbol, you will enter the video clip manufacturer's major web page and after that comply with or watch other video clips from him. If you similar to the video clip, tap the heart-shaped icon. Touch the conversation bubble, you can make comments on the Tik Tok video you are watching. To share the video to the social media, tap on the Share icon.

The last icon is a covering record with songs notes originating. Click it, you can see the thorough information regarding the songs that the video clip is utilizing.

If you do not like a particular video, please long press the video clip to disclose a Not Fascinated button.

Navigating Various Other Features

There are likewise 5 symbols get on all-time low. Click the very first symbol shaped like a house, you will obtain a refreshed web page with brand-new suggested video clips. Tap on the search symbol, you can browse any type of kinds of video as well as users. The "+" icon permits you to create videos or submit a video from the Gallery. The message symbol uses you access to any notifications.

The last icon is the accessibility to your own primary page. From there, you can modify account, change label, see your own videos.

TikVideoCyborg highlights on privacy. Click the three straight dots on the upper right edge, you will certainly be able to establish your account as private, or who can download your video clip, who can send out remarks, etc.

. Component 2. Just how to Make a Funny TikTok Video Detailed

TikTok is integrated with video sharing and also video clip producing function. Creating a TikTok video is very simple.

Action 1: Click the "+" button. If it is your very first time to fire, you need to permit TikTok to access your camera as well as recorder.

Step 2: Set up the timer, rate, beauty effects, filters, results, lengthy press the red button to start capturing.

Action 3: Select one opus to level up your video clip.

Tip 4: Once the film is done, push the red check to head to the editing web page.

Step 5: Go to the top right, you can choose another music, change the quantity as well as cut noise.

Action 6: Set one structure of the video clip as a cover and include various other unique impacts via both buttons on the down left corner.

Keep in mind

TikTok prolongs the maximum video size from 15 seconds to 60 seconds! If you require to upload a longer video clip, record it with a video camera instead of taping with TikVideoCyborg straight. TikTok launched a brand-new editing attribute - including text. Possibly several of you, like me, haven't gotten this function yet. Describe Part 3 to recognize some sophisticated TikTok video modifying ideas, including making a TikTok video clip with message.

TikVideoCyborg Summary

Designer: Andrew Darius et al

Item: TikVideoCyborg

Date Of Introduce: 2020-Jun-02

Time Of Introduce: 11:00 EDT

FE Rate: $17

Sales Web Page: https://www.socialleadfreak.com/tikvideocyborg-review-bonus/

Particular niche: Software

What Is TikVideoCyborg?

TikVideoCyborg Is The Only First APPLICATION With PLNG Tech On The Marketplace Generate Your Next TikTok Video Clip 3 Easy To Comply With Actions.

Step 1: Search

You simply get in hashtag or key phrase & click search.

Step 2: Select

You just pick from top tried and tested & trending copyright free videos.

Action 3: Generate

You just choose how you desire the app to make a video clip & click produce it.

About PLNG Tech

It gives you a straight shortcut to the flooding of complimentary buyers traffic to any deal or link of your choice from 800 countless TikTok active users.

You can immediately generate video clips for TikTok by simply entering a keyword phrase, and you can publish them directly to TikTok in the most efficient means without also needing a phone.

TikVideoCyborg Characteristics & Advantages

Automatically Makes and Posts Video Clips To TikTok From Desktop Computer

Inside TikVideoCyborg product, you'll likewise get TikVideoPoster application.

It is the initial & only desktop app that lets you post video clip to TikTok right from your desktop, no matter whether it is a COMPUTER or a Mac, You do not require using the phone or risking having your account prohibited by utilizing an internet application.

TikVideoPoster will certainly upload your video clips to TikTok the most efficient method with every little thing optimized for maximum engagement & web traffic.

Getting Free Buyers Web Traffic From TikTok

Actually, TikTok has really little video content for 800,000 most involved individuals on earth.

Currently breaking out purchasers traffic from TikTok is the easiest that it will certainly ever be. You can easily upload video clip instantaneously or timetable web content for months ahead for hands free web traffic.

PLNG Modern Technology Allows What No App Without That Technology Can Do

TikVideoCyborg is the only software application that makes use of PLNG Technology and also it offers you direct access to the greatest cost-free website traffic expressway (TikTok). It can actually boost your buyers traffic swiftly.

Send Your website traffic

Simply think of that you can have an email checklist develop automatically for you, instantly earn payments from associate offers, market your very own items or maybe expand your Youtube channel or boost the positions of your Youtube video clips.

Whatever you want to do, TikVideoCyborg gives you a choice where you want to send your website traffic.

Higher Involvement, Organic Reach & Outcomes + Unrestricted Usage

PLNG technology is nearly ensured to obtain you greater interaction, organic reach, and results by automatically leveraging TikTok batch formula, TikTok challenges, and TikTok soundbites.

Complete Year Of DFY TikTok videos

You will certainly obtain a done-for-you 365 interesting & full year of TikTok video clips for every single day of the year, which you can arrange to be posted daily for the whole year for totally hands cost-free traffic.

TikVideoCyborg Benefits

ACT CURRENTLY TO GET $8,585 IN BONUSES! (These Will Be Eliminated ASAP After Introductory Offer Ends).

Reward 1: TikVideoPoster Application (Worth: $97)

Bonus 2: FREE Upgrade To TikVideoCyborg 2 AND ALSO Early Beta Access

You'll also obtain an upgrade to TikVideoCyborg variation 2 completely free, plus, in addition to it, early beta accessibility to that upgrade, prior to it's launched to the public.

Perk 3: TikTok Business Training & Webinar Training

You'll be invited to TikTok Business Mentoring Webinar Training held by the founder Andrew Darius.

The webinar will be tape-recorded for those who cann' t get involved real-time, so you'll be able to see it in any case.

Reward 4: TikTok Business Mentoring & Residence Study Video Clip Program

Bonus 5: One Year Gain Access To Privilege to Ask The Creator, Andrew Darius, Any Type Of Inquiries You Have

You'll have the ability to ask Andrew any kind of question you have about TikTok and TikVideoCyborg.

TikVideoCyborg Upsells

Update 1 - TikVideoCyborg PRO

Mass Automatization: Mass Video Production, Mass Soundbite Randomization & Mass Organizing.

Upsell 2 - TikVideoCyborg Firm

10X Your Own Website Traffic, Or Offer Video Clips, Or Accumulate Month-to-month Checks From Organisations, Or Do All That With each other! Work Much Less & Earn More With 10 Additional Licenses.

Upsell 3 - TikVideoCyborg Deluxe

Unlock Automatic Video Generation Additionally For Instagram, YouTube, FB, Twitter, LikenIn, Tool and Reddit.

Finally Shortcut To Flooding Of Web Traffic From Those Giants Operatings systems

Upsell 4 - 1 Web Page Commissions App

Seize The Compensation Sites & Profit In A Snap

100% DFY Compensations Websites Pre-Loaded With Reviews & Bonuses!

Newbie-Friendly And Also Set & Neglect BASIC

Upsell 5 - 1 Page Payments App PRO

Your Shortcut To Double Your Compensation Utilize 27 "Formula" Commision Ready Bonus Offer Pages.

Upsell 6 - 1 Web Page Payments Editor for personalized pages

1 Web Page Compensations Editor with holding for customized page.

Upsell 7 - 1 Web Page Payments Editor PRO

Very own Domain, double number of layouts.

Gain access to To Over Many Millions Royalty Free Stock Photos

Conclusion

" It's A Large amount. Should I Spend Today?"

Not just are you getting access to TikVideoCyborg for the very best rate ever offered, but also You're spending completely without danger. TikVideoCyborg consists of a 30-day Refund Warranty Plan. When you pick TikVideoCyborg, your complete satisfaction is assured. If you are not entirely satisfied with it for any type of reason within the very first thirty day, you're entitled to a full refund-- no doubt asked. You have actually got absolutely nothing to lose! What Are You Waiting for? Try It today and get The Following Bonus offer Currently!

#TikVideoCyborg #TikVideoCyborg Review

0 notes

gethealthy18-blog · 4 years

Text

What I Learned from Quitting Instagram for 6 Months

New Post has been published on https://healingawerness.com/news/what-i-learned-from-quitting-instagram-for-6-months/

What I Learned from Quitting Instagram for 6 Months

I’ve been getting some questions recently about when/if I’m coming back to Instagram so I thought it was due time I stop in for a little update. For context, 6 months ago I announced I was taking a break from Instagram. I just looked at the date of my last post and realized it’s been exactly 6 months, although if I’m being honest it feels like 6 days and a 6 years all at once. Nothing and everything has happened in these 6 months. When I decided to take a break I always knew I’d be back but I thought when I returned I’d be some changed woman. I thought I would have gotten the space I needed and made all kinds of breakthroughs. 6 months without Instagram = enlightenment, right?!

Not so much. I have changed in the last 6 months. All of us have. Life is change. I’m not the same person I was with 6 months ago just like I won’t be the same person 6 months from now. Some of this change is indeed a part of my break from Instagram (along with moving, transitioning my business etc…) and some is just the natural progression of life. Nonetheless I’ve still learned a thing or two over the past 6 months and especially about what it means to take a break from everyone’s favorite photo-sharing app.

But first, let’s chat a bit about where my head was at when I decided to leave. For those who follow me it probably seemed like a spur of the moment decision. I’d be back in a month, right?! Not so much. I had been planning a break for at least two months prior to announcing. I started tracking my moods and how Instagram was making me feel and what I discovered was that Instagram was a huge source of my anxiety. I felt most myself and most at ease on the days I wasn’t thinking about it. The pressure of having to show up there for my business created an anxiety cycle I felt like I could never escape. I’d post things and go through the inevitable thoughts/feelings around why certain things performed and others didn’t. Then I’d recoil and not post anything feeling guilty for not being active enough for my business. It felt like a lose-lose situation.

Another big reason for leaving was feeling like my life was being lived for other people. When I started THM in 2013 Instagram was in its nascent stage. Stories didn’t exist and people certainly weren’t posting professionally captured “moments”. My first picture was a grainy, overly filtered shot of my old apartment in Montreal. I never in a million years thought that thousands of people would be or would even want to be watching my daily activities. But that’s where things have gone and I began to realize that no matter what I did I felt like I’d inevitably be looking at my life through the lens of someone else. It wasn’t just about how my life felt to me but about how my life looked through another person’s eyes. Now, as a recovering people-pleaser with codependent tendencies, this is not healthy. I wanted my life to be inspiring to people but also non-threatening. I wanted to be liked…by everyone. There was a time when I was a lot more fearless in this space, but as my audience grew so did my fears of negative feedback and I began to be cautious about what I shared so as not to offend anyone.

I’m a big believer that there is a difference between authenticity and transparency. You do not need to share everything to be authentic. I was beginning to realize that what felt truest to me was sharing a lot less than I used to. But then I’d immediately spiral into a state of “but what value do I offer? People consider me an influencer! I have to be on there. It’s not fair to only give people part of the story”. It took one too many of these spirals for me to finally realize that I couldn’t keep playing this game anymore. I needed a break to figure things out. I needed to live my life without the ‘gram. So while it may have been a surprise to you – there was nothing impulsive about the decision.

*I have to segue for a minute here – after spending 6 months off Instagram I kind of find this whole discussion a little silly. Instagram feels like a big deal when it takes up too much of your life (like it did for me) but when it doesn’t it feels more like “yeah whatever”. But more on that in a bit.*

What I felt when I announced I was taking a break

On the morning of September 6th, 2019 I posted a picture, a blog post and a short caption and then I deleted the app. I felt a mixture of relief and pride. I was proud of myself for setting a boundary and taking a risk even if I didn’t know its implications. I also felt kind of free. It gave me space to think about other things I was passionate about and zoom out on my business. It let me see clearly what I love about my job and what no longer serves me. I wasn’t bogged down in trying to keep up with the Instagram game and making myself constantly available to other people and meeting their needs.

At the same time I’ll admit that it was a little scary. I’ve gotten used to the immediacy of feedback that Instagram delivers. I was very much altering what you were seeing to avoid negative feedback but I became no stranger to positive feedback. Instagram helped feed my low self-worth. I no longer had the immediacy of people reaching out for advice, thanking me or wanting to connect. I still received this feedback but without the easy access of Instagram these connections felt much more intentional and meaningful. That being said it wasn’t as often and my ego wasn’t loving it. I’m not going to lie, it was rough. But it also forced me to finally come face-to-face with why I require so much validation from other people. I’m not here to tell you I’ve solved it but I definitely became much more aware of it.

Around mid-October I started to feel a little disconnected. While I definitely did not miss sharing my life with strangers, I did miss seeing what my friends were up to. 2 years ago I created a personal account for this very reason. It’s incredibly important to me to have strong and meaningful friendships in my life and I do my very best to show up in person when I can but I’ve lived in 4 different cities over the past 10 years and my friends are spread across the world so I missed getting the occasional update on them. I knew I wasn’t prepared to download the app again so instead I allowed myself to occasionally check my personal Instagram on desktop. This allowed for a nice balance and I finally felt like I could use the app like a normal human and not someone whose business depended on it. Speaking of which, let’s chat about the business implications.

How Leaving Instagram Affected My Business

So I know what some of you may be thinking – that sounds great and all but I could never leave Instagram – my business depends on it! Trust me, I get it. I told myself the exact same story for 7 years. Instagram is crucial to running a digital business. Or so I thought. This has by far been the biggest learning lesson since quitting Instagram. I can, in fact, run a digital business without using Instagram. MIND BLOWN.

Now I’m not going to sugarcoat things for you, my business has required a total overhaul. I’ve always been open about how I make money in this space but for a brief refresher it has primally been through sponsored content (working with brands to create content), ad revenue (cause we all love ads lol!) and affiliate earnings (I recommend a product and make a small commission from the sale if you buy it). This is a model that has worked well for me because it’s allowed me to create my work and share it with you without ever having to charge you a cent.

In the past sponsored content made up the largest chunk of my income. Influencer marketing is a BIG industry and while I never set out to be an influencer, I kind of fell into the trap. I’ve prided myself on my integrity in my brand relationships (though I’m certainly not perfect) but nevertheless, there is a lot of money passing hands in the influencer space and its hard to turn it down. But here’s the thing, I started THM to work for myself and serve my audience. As the influencer industry has grown I started to spend most of my time feeling like I was working for other people and serving the needs of my clients…not my audience. Most of you never see what happens behind-the-scenes, but trust me when I say it is big business and brands have extremely high expectations of your deliverables and returns. Trying to meet these needs while also fighting for the rights of my audience (without your trust I have nothing!) became exhausting and made me want to not show up here.

Now what does this have to do with Instagram? Over the past year, brands have basically been putting all their influencer marketing budgets into Instagram. While I was still able to occasionally secure a sponsored blog post, most saw it as a bonus on top of an Instagram post or only wanted an Instagram post at all. If my Instagram audience was no longer accessible to these brands they didn’t see much value in working with me. For the first two months I was somewhat in denial about this. For context: the blog has over 10x more monthly visitors than THM’s Instagram. My audience has and likely will always be bigger on the blog than on social media. I spent the first two months thinking that if I could just communicate this to these brands they’d see the light and want to work with me. Not so much. Right now the influencer industry is Instagram-centric. Despite the lowest amount of engagement the platform has ever seen, more and more money is being thrown into the space. I felt bitter about this for some time but then I realized it was time to let it go. Just because I’m over Instagram doesn’t mean everyone else is too.

As my contracts wrapped up and I wasn’t signing new ones a felt a sense of dread and relief. The biggest chunk of my income was disappearing but for the first time in over 5 years I was running the business I wanted to run. I could talk about whatever I wanted to talk about and I wasn’t spending 50% of my time negotiating contracts, sending in drafts, discussing concepts and managing the expectations of my clients. I fell in love with blogging and why I started this space in the first place. It’s funny to me how many people think blogging is dead. Blogging circa 2014 is dead but blogging very much is not dead. Without the pressure of Instagram and brand commitments I was able to see this much more clearly.

The last 4 months have been very interesting for me from a business-perspective. I’ve had to get a lot more stringent with my business spending (I couldn’t keep running a podcast that was costing me more than it was earning) and get clear on exactly what I need to do to keep THM up and running. Three letters: SEO. I’ve spent the last several months revamping old content, creating new content you want to see and getting smart about what you guys are searching for. It’s a balancing act between creating work you want to see and writing posts from the heart and that don’t have much SEO-value (like this one) but I’m getting better at it. Between increased page views from SEO and you guys trusting my product recommendations (unsponsored but with affiliate kickbacks) you have made it possible for me to continue to run this business. I’m not going to lie, my income has been cut roughly 1/3-1/2 of what it used to be but I’m happier and healthier and when it comes to my values and priorities those two take precedence. Although if you guys do want to support me and my work it doesn’t hurt for you to share articles you love with friends and/or buy products I recommend through the links on this site. It means absolutely nothing on here has to be sponsored which is pretty cool!

My advice for anyone wanting to take a long Instagram break

It wouldn’t be a maven post without a little dose of wisdom. If you’re thinking about taking a break from Instagram my advice would be this, DO IT. If it feels like a big deal to take a break, you need a break. I mentioned earlier on in this novel of a post that it feels kind of silly dedicating a whole post to taking an Instagram break and that’s honestly because after you leave you realize that it isn’t such a big deal. Perspective is everything. Once you get outside the Instagram bubble it all seems very warped and strange. A few years ago I remember telling someone that I thought social media was going to be the smoking of our generation…then Juul’s came on the scene but you know when I mean! I think we’re all going to look back on the last few years as this weird social psych experiment taken too far.

Everyone keeps asking what the next big thing will be and while TikTok may be having its hayday, I honestly think the next big thing is going to be a regression back to more authentic, more present human interactions. The internet has been a wonderful thing for us but the amount that it’s permeated our lives has pulled us away from the sense of connection and belonging we feel from being face-t0-face with a real human. Our ability to connect is the highest it’s ever been but so are our rates of loneliness. This is not a coincidence. We all need to find a better balance of human vs. digital connections.

As for my business owners reading, I get and respect why you think you might not be able to take a break but I urge you to set aside some time to evaluate why that is. It’s a story I told myself for a really long time but when I sat down and looked at the numbers and compared them to my values and what’s important to me the answer was actually quite simple: I didn’t need Instagram to run my business. Did it require me to refocus and make sacrifices? Yes. But for me it was worth it. And it may be worth it for you too. Give yourself permission to explore that possibility or at the very least test out taking a break for a few days or weeks.

If you are planning to take a break, DELETE THE APP. You can always re-download it but the temptation will be much less if you don’t have immediate access to it. See this post on technology boundaries for more tips on having a healthy relationship with social media.

So Will I be back?

So after all of this, the question becomes – will I be back? Funny enough, yes, probably. I’ve always been someone who needed to go to the polar opposite extreme before setting a healthier boundary in the middle. Instagram took over too much of my life, my business and my self-worth. I needed to regain my confidence and live without it to remind myself what’s really important to me.

One of the things that has felt missing these past 6 months is feeling like I want to use my voice for change. I feel incredibly grateful to have the platform that I have and it’s important to me that I use it to the greatest good. I get it to some degree on the blog but like I said, it’s a balance between SEO-friendly content and my personal voice. I’m trying to figure out how I’ll navigate all of this but likely The Healthy Maven you’ll see on Instagram will be different from what you see here on the blog. The blog is much more content-focused and IG will be more of my voice. You likely won’t be seeing a lot of my BTS life. I’ve become a lot more comfortable with the degree of privacy I’ve gained from this break but I still plan to bring you snippets of my life that inspire me, bring me joy or add value to your lives. It won’t be my life on display and it won’t be able me encouraging you to buy products or certain brands. I’ve had to accept that sponsored Instagram posts (no matter how lucrative they may be) don’t feel right for me. I might be the only “influencer” on the web who doesn’t want to be paid by brands but hey! you gotta do what works for you.

So…see you soon! Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe in two months. As always – thank you for the support. Truly so grateful for all of you.

Quick question – do you guys like these longer posts? would love to hear from you.

JOIN THE THM NEWSLETTER

Join 10,000+ members of the THM Community to get access to exclusive recipes, healthy lifestyle tips and behind-the-scenes news from our team!

Source: http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheHealthyMaven/~3/LzAWPbNHX0A/

0 notes

peppurthehotone · 4 years

Text

I was in the midst of finishing a Deepak Chopra 21-Day Abundance Meditation Challenge my friend Tanya started, when a bit of tragedy struck.

On November 29th, Matt and I were returning from Thanksgiving in Chicago on a four-hour flight into LAX. We had finally landed around 11:00 pm and is Matt is prone to do, he immediately pulled out his phone and turned it on. I always give him the side eye for this because I feel he does it before the lady says it’s okay to turn on electronic devices, and then I berate him for not being able to just sit, take in his surroundings and passenger people watch (as I do), rather than have his nose in his phone.

Thank God he turned on his phone.

The first text he received was from a friend that said, “Call ASAP. 911”. Unusual. Strange. We looked at each other and thought maybe something could be going on with her husband.

I quickly turned on my phone to a text from my brother that said, “Call me when the dust settles.” I’m like, “What dust?”

The next text careened us into a vortex of which we have not fully emerged nearly two weeks later.

Now, we all react to things differently, right? We are different people and that’s what makes us tick in this world. Remember this as you read on.

My brother’s next text said “Tina has been shot.” Tina?! My breath got caught in my throat, my stomach dropped, I slumped forward in my chair with my head smashed against the scratchy seat in front of me and I wanted to throw up. Matt cradled me and we were in “Oh my God” mode on repeat while trapped by all the passenger people.

The next text was, “And your dog Vivian is missing.”

When I tell you Matt read that and jolted backward in his chair and ricocheted off it and nearly fell in the aisle, I’m not fully exaggerating.

I stared at him like he had two heads.

If you’ve ever done the 21-Day Abundance thing, then you know it’s full of all these exercises that get you to a place of gratitude toward all the feels about yourself to help you realize how amazing you are so that you can go out into the world and start killing it. One of the exercises teaches you to not judge others. Because when you judge, you’re not in a loving place of compassion but in a rude place of lack.

I was trying really hard not to do that because my guy and I are two unique beings in the cosmos trying to live our best life but I couldn’t help myself so I yelled, “Matthew! Calm down!”

He didn’t.

We couldn’t get off that plane fast enough and once in the open terminal, I pulled to the side with my suitcase and started to hyperventilate. Because while trapped in the plane, I was literally constricted to keep it together and I was focused on trying to calm Matt, but once I was in open space, panic had room to swell and it hit me hard. I lost it. So while Matt was swirling around like he was possessed, trying to communicate on the phone with his sister who was in town from Colorado to visit us and was picking us up, I was doubled over the handle of my suitcase unable to breathe. We were a mess.

Somehow we made it outside to the car and the three of us sped (as best you can in LA traffic) 30 minutes downtown to where the incident had occurred.

Even in chaos, the universe acts in mysterious ways.

My friend Tina is a goddess of light, and once again, I’m not exaggerating. So, when I received another text from Crescent that said not to come to the hospital because the waiting room was AT CAPACITY of all our friends who were there to support her, it was a blessing because otherwise I would have had to make a Sophie’s Choice of do I go to the hospital to support my friend who’s been shot or support my fiance’ and our dog who was now lost for five hours, alone in the dark in the big bad jungle that is Downtown LA?

And thus began our search for little Vivian.

For seven full days she was missing. We did everything we were told to do in order to find her. Flyers. Flyers in English and Spanish. Flyers in plastic sheathes so they don’t get ruined. Go to the shelters – every day. Post on NextDoor, post on PawBoost, post in Facebook Groups in Downtown LA, in Lost to Found, in friend groups. Post on Craigslist. Talk to the homeless. Make a scent trail. (That was the hardest because Vivian was lost in a neighborhood unfamiliar to her and in a place that was industrial, transient, collegiate and corporate. Anything but single-family residential. There was no, “Make sure you put her bedding outside in your yard so she can smell her way back home.” There was no yard. But we tried. During one day that we walked we tied ripped-up pieces of Matt’s t-shirt to parking lot fence railings and street lamp bases hoping her little nose would find the strips and lead her back to Tina’s place, the last place she’d known as home.)

We were out for twelve hours the first day and eight the second and posted nearly 100 flyers. Matt’s FitBit thing said we walked almost fifteen miles. Matt’s sister was there right along with us. A dog mom and a human child mom, she not only knew what we were going through emotionally, she also knew time was of the essence and she spent her entire two days of visiting us out in the streets of LA seeing the muck of the city rather than any of its tarnished glitz.

I visited Tina on the second day and once I saw her face and heard her voice, I knew she was going to be ok. Because she believed it to be so.

We got our first real break on Day 2 which came in the form of a 10:30 pm call from Harvey, a car salesman at the Kia dealership on Figueroa. He was with a customer and had seen Vivi dash across Figueroa, red leash in tact. Thanks to flyers posted outside his job, he called immediately. That night we jumped out of bed, drove the 20 minutes from our flat in North Hollywood to where he saw her and walked the streets calling her name until 1:00 am.

We came home with nothing but more anxiety and sadness.

On Day 3 we hit the streets again. This time focusing on the homeless population; we knew the homeless had their eyes and ears to the street, quite literally…someone had to have seen her! It’s already in my nature to see people who are invisible to others, so it wasn’t a huge stretch to step into the sphere of someone’s street home to ask for help. Yet, I felt a bit of a hypocrite approaching people because I needed something, rather than the other way around.

We went up and down the encampments between 17th & Figueroa up to 23rd & Main, calling out hello to those who would answer and handing out flyers to those who’d pop their heads out to accept.

At the St. Francis Shelter for homeless and low income, on a block full of tents and make-shift shelters, we came upon a woman waiting for services. She was taller than me, black, about 20 or 30 years old and had a truly wonderful smile on her face. She told us, “I just got some good news today.” I took a moment to assess where she might go with this, and if she was on my side of crazy or her own and once I determined I could engage, I did. I said, “Oh, that’s great!” and smiled the smile you make when you want the person to tell you more, but you don’t want to intrude. She continued, “I just found out I’m pregnant!”

I swear to you the wind was punched out of me same as if she’d suckered me with her fist. I disappeared and pulled the emergency rip cord on my Hyper Peppy-Peppur Doll and she took over like Chatty Cathy. I watched myself give her a hug and ask all the questions you’d ask anyone else, “Did you know? Could you feel it?” (Yes!) “How’d you find out?” (Clinic around the corner). “Is your guy happy about it too?” (Yes! He’s right there.) She pointed to a guy waiting for her in the street and said he was her boyfriend. There were two guys waiting, one in some kind of a wheel chair and one not. I asked, “Is he happy about it?” She nodded yes and Hyper Peppy-Peppur Doll promptly strode over to the guy not in the chair and shook his hands in congratulations. If I’d a had a cigar, I woulda given it to him.

Matt and I handed off our Vivian Lost Dog flyer and left. As we walked away, the doll deflated, the smile I’d plastered on my face melted off and a burst of sadness howled from me. I don’t have to tell you what I was thinking about that girl, because you’re thinking it too (how, what, when, where, why?!?). But I was also was jealous. I was mad it wasn’t me. I didn’t understand. And then I … I had to stop myself.

Matt gently asked, “Are you alright?”

I wasn’t. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I didn’t want him to see how bad I felt.

I couldn’t stop those initial tears that rushed out, but I did stop myself from continuing. Because, 1) I didn’t have time to spiral; not now. We had a dog to find. 2) Did it really make sense for me to be upset? NO. I was going to a pain that was familiar and pain can often feel good, like for those who cut themselves. I lived in that pain for most of 2018. I didn’t need it anymore, so I chose to be happy for that young woman (like Deepak taught me) and then I had to swipe her from my mind (like my therapist taught me). I don’t usually do that to people, but this one needed a swift swipe right. She had her own life to live, and I had mine.

By Day 4, I was exhausted. We’d received a sort of ransom call from some Deep Throat guy that said we’d better negotiate a good reward or he’d keep the dog. (False). We’d had a hugely hopeful lost-dog photo match on an app that had us rushing to the Lacy Street shelter only to go through the kennels in the soaking rain to find out the dog that looked like Vivian online was in fact a male. Besides the ransom call, we’d heard nothing which meant she was dead in the street or someone had her. Either scenario meant we didn’t.

Matt needed to keep active. To keep putting up posters. To keep searching online. After that terrible, horrible, no good, very bad shelter let down on Day 4 ,I told him we’d done enough for the day and I needed to go home. He told me later that he couldn’t believe I was giving up. He resented that I wouldn’t do more for Vivi. I explained that repeatedly searching wasn’t helping me. I needed space to think. Space to mediate. Space to imagine. Space to visualize her running down the sidewalk to us.

I focused my energy on Vivian returning, Matt’s mind’s eye could only focus on her cold and dead in the street. We were Ying against Yang, night and day, hot and cold, black and white. Real.

Matt became unrecognizable. Or, his energy was. He would falter between moments of extreme grief to panicked despair. All with wrecking effects to my mid-western guy.

Around Day 5 or 6, I told him that I didn’t know who he was. I shouldn’t have said that. That hurt his feelings. Years ago when I told my dad he seemed like a shell of himself while he was going through a hard time, I should’ve learned my lesson to choose better words or keep them to myself. What dad heard me say was that I thought he was a shell of a man. Two very different things, but my words bit into him hard like that time when our other dog, Molly (a pit mix), chomped at my face when I tried to take her bone away. Dad hasn’t really forgiven me and it has easily been 10 years. Hopefully Matt will take less time.

Trauma, and for us, this was our own trauma, affects us all very differently. While Tina was going through her own trauma of being shot, I knew she had a tribe to support her. Matthew had only me — as he should, because we’re a team. And I’m not sure I was there for him in the way he needed, quite honestly. I wasn’t expecting him to be Thor and to sort of be this manly man in the face of pain, but I also wasn’t expecting him do what I interpreted as come undone. Matt usually isn’t one to show any emotion, (hardly ever), so to see this guy in the state that he was, was jarring. Therefore, I was left standing in the bedroom, staring at a stranger, and not being helpful. But I started to understand what was lying beneath.

Tina’s one-woman show last year. She was in the process of writing the second one and then this happened. She says, “I have SO much more to say now!!” #getready

Tina and I are friends and spiritual sisters because we believe in the moon and the stars and the powers above. We believe in good energy, karma and positive thinking. We both reject the negative. She is on a constant spiritual journey and I am constantly seeking the good in people and things. We see cosmic signs in everything, from a tangled string in the street to a receipt totally $3.33 (because three is a FANTASTIC number; I have two brothers and the three of us make the perfect Zodiac trifecta of Scorpio, Pisces and Cancer. When I see a three, I have immediate comfort because I think of my brothers and that fills me with love and a moment of peace.)

This kind of stuff — along with whatever spiritual faith you have, carries you. It holds you UP in times like these when you truly feel like you are out of control drowning in a dirty river of mucky water pulled into a bottomless LA drain.

I’m not saying I was the pillar of strength through all of this, but I had a dreamy well from which to draw and Matt, who is a die-hard realist, had reality. And reality was sucking pretty hard.

Matt and I are very different people. I learned I had to respect his process and not compare it to my own. I learned he loves our dogs. I love them too, but he loves them in a way that is connected to his soul and it was literally ripped out when he learned Vivian was gone. I learned my faith and belief system are strong and that this strength was something Matt is beginning to learn. I’m learning to be more vulnerable and open to other’s responses to grief, which make me uncomfortable.

Our amazing dog trainer, Adriana Barnes, who is a very spiritual woman and a dog whisperer joined us on our search. She lives forty-five minutes away and spent an entire day with us looking for Vivian. She is a believer too and we bonded over this knowledge that something else holds us and that through pain we grow. We knew all of this was happening to prepare us for something greater (she thinks for the two-legged family we will have one day). On Day 7, it was Adriana who helped us find and retrieve Vivian from a young homeless man (whom we hope we can help). She was found only a few blocks from where we had been searching, but where we hadn’t. Matt tells the full story here and here (why we now call her “Viv the Shiv”).

Our Heroes. Adriana and the young man who found and returned Vivian.

With lovely, smelly!, scared Vivian in our arms, our first stop was to Harvey at Kia. We wanted to thank him, because without him, we would have been really lost. We then took her home and after the vet for a few stitches and a day to recover, we took Vivian around to all the Downtown folks we met who helped us along the way. To say Thanks for their help and thanks for believing.

This is A. Phillip of Fashion Service Group – 1837 S. Main Street. 626,979.4614. He MAKES patterns. Want to start a fashion line? He’s the guy!

This is Kofi of Coffee by Kofi The Reef | LA Mart, 1933 S Broadway. Coffee is bomb and he also designs coasters and the tie he’s wearing out of fab buttons! https://www.coffeebykofi.com/ (He’s from Ghana. My new brother! #ancestry.com)

Cynthia loves makeup and lashes, so we brought her some.

JR is the MAN. We call him the Mayor of Main Street.

Cynthia loves makeup and lashes, so we brought her some.

JR is the MAN. We call him the Mayor of Main Street.

Cynthia loves makeup and eyelashes, so we brought her an early Christmas present. This is not the end of our friendship. If you’d like to help these guys, message me.

JR is the MAN. We call him the Mayor of Main Street.

Last things: I want to pay it forward and pay it back. If you want to help out our friends, message me. We have ideas and we’ll need your help.

Matt will start volunteering at the Lacy Street shelter and I will start volunteering at LATTC (helped us too) in their foster care department.

Thank you to Deonna, Carl, Tanya & Dodger, Karimah and Morenike + Kids & Maxie for driving, walking and biking around the neighborhood to look for Vivian. I’ll never forget your kindness.

Keep Tina in your healing prayers. Send every shade and beam of light that you can. She will receive it.

That’s all, for now.

#gratitude

When gratitude comes wagging I was in the midst of finishing a Deepak Chopra 21-Day Abundance Meditation Challenge my friend Tanya started, when a bit of tragedy struck.

0 notes

loeyparker · 7 years

Text

compliments part 2 - zach dempsey

requested: yes

word count: 2.216

warnings: none besides fluff i think

plot: zach decides to (nervously) confront you after finding out you’re the one slipping compliments in his bag

a/n: i Cannot believe a 2nd part was requested i cant believe you guys enjoyed the first part and sent me messages!! i wasn’t planning on writing this but here she is since y’all are cute as heck

Thursday night found Zach Dempsey sprawled on his bed.

A week worth of complimentary notes was at the foot of the bed. Some were folded, some all the way open but none of them were in their original, pristine state. They were crumpled, thing that probably happened whenever the boy stuffed them in his pockets.

His right leg was loosely hanging off the edge of the bed. Both of his hands were holding up an IPhone and the sound of texts popping up constantly rung throughout the room, over the low volume of a The Weeknd song.

There were only two sources of light in the entire room: his bright phone screen and the desk lamp that shone over unopened text books.

Zach was ignoring all the groupchat texts, being too engrossed in scrolling through your Instagram feed. He liked your most recent selfie, then a picture you took of roses, and a shot of your friends sitting in a booth at Rosie’s. After those three likes he silently scrolled through the rest, thinking liking any more would make him seem desperate.

He opened snapchat after reaching the end of your Instagram feed. Remembering he had you in his friends list since freshman year, he looked to see if you had posted any stories.

The first one was a video taken in gym class earlier that day. It showed a couple of guys Zach knew from the football team giving their best at a volleyball game no one else seemed interested in playing. Your voice could be heard from behind the camera narrating one of those student athlete memes that had been going around the internet.

Zach snickered, a wide smile spreading on his face.

He debated on whether he should message you, start a conversation based on that one snapchat video, but decided against it and closed the app.

Ever since he spotted you dropping a compliment in his paper bag before Communications class that morning, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Sure, it wasn’t the first time he noticed you, but it was the first time you showed interest in his mere existence. You were extremely pretty and smart, funny and kind and he never thought you’d look his way; ever.

And yet, there you were, slipping him anonymous messages that brightened up his days, making him smile just a little bit bigger and the feeling of great loneliness to slightly fade.

He didn’t know how to start up a conversation with you. All he knew was that he wanted to get to know you. He didn’t want you to remain the stranger that gives him compliments.

It took him an hour to think of a way to get your attention, and another hour to come up with the message he would later slip in your untouched compliments bag. He wanted his compliment to be something fit for you, something that wouldn’t push you away. Because each time he likes a girl he seems to fuck everything up with stupid remarks –like it happened with Hannah.

The next morning he went to school earlier, about half an hour before classes started. He made sure there was no one in Communications then he quickly slipped his compliment note in your bag after signing his name on its back. Zach then sat in his spot.

You walked in about five minutes later.

The look on your face upon seeing him already in class just confirmed to Zach that you truly were the one writing him compliments. That gave him a shot of confidence which pushed him to talk to you.

“Hey.” Zach’s voice rang throughout the empty, vast classroom. You approached your seat with caution, as if you were expecting something to blow up somewhere.

“Hi.” Your lips curled up in a smile, your eyes met his. Zach’s heart began beating a bit faster, his palms started sweating. “Seems like we’re the only ones eager for this class.” You nervously snickered.

Zach wanted to seem confident. He didn’t want you to think he was some awkward guy who didn’t know how to talk to girls.

So he responded with “Yeah, it’s been pretty interesting lately, right?” and grinned, leaning back in his seat.

Your eyes quickly shifted away from him, avoiding eye contact. “Quite.” You replied and Zach’s face dropped. Has he said something dumb again? Did he come off as an over-confident, annoying jock? Were you suddenly regretting ever giving him the time of the day?

People flooded the class right after that, the bell rang and the teacher came in. For that entire hour he kept glancing your way thinking of what to do. He wished Justin could have been there to give him advice, he wished he didn’t throw you off.

Eventually, Zach decided to wait for things to unfold, to see what happens after you read his compliment.

However, you didn’t even glance towards your bag after the class had ended. You just headed towards the door instead and Zach made the abrupt decision to be blunt, to ignore his racing heart and his nerves.

He quickly ran up to you before you could leave the classroom and placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. He leaned down and whispered in your ear that you should check out your own bag, and then headed out.

The boy leaned against the classroom’s doorframe, looking at you as you got up on your tippy toes to reach inside your compliments bag. He watched as you read his message and he smiled when your eyes met.

You looked so pretty right there.

The light was behind you, making it seem like there was some sort of angelic aura all around your frame. Your hair was in a loose ponytail and strands of it fell messily, framing your face. Your rose lips were slightly parted in shock, your eyes were a bit wider.

Zach could stay there, watching you all day long. But his friends called out for him and he just mouthed “call me” before disappearing.

That day he constantly waited for your call. He checked his phone every hour and held it close during lunch in case it started vibrating.

He felt pathetic when he saw you walk in the cafeteria and sit down at the table right next to his without even looking his way. He angrily placed his phone in a pocket of his jacket and tried to ignore you.

The only problem was that he just couldn’t.

And even through you tried not to look at him out of nothing but embarrassment of being discovered, you couldn’t focus on your friends’ conversation for more than 5 minutes at a time.

There were quick moments when you looked at the cute jock to see him engaged in a conversation with other guys, or deep in thought staring at his food. And there were moments when Zach would glance your way and see you laughing or making hand gestures while speaking.

There was, however, one moment.

One moment when both of your eyes met.

You instinctively smiled, remembering his note; the note that was secured inside your phone’s case.

Zach was taken by surprise but as soon as he saw you smile, he mirrored you. Grinning and with a sudden burst of confidence, he nodded towards the courtyard exit, not breaking eye contact.

You frowned in confusion, having no idea what he was saying. But you watched him get up, head towards the door and walk out. He met your eyes through the glass and made a swift hand motion for you to follow him.

“I’ll be right back.” You told your friends before getting up and joining the tall boy outside.

He was waiting for you a few feet from the door. His hands were holding onto the straps of his backpack. You walked up to him smiling.

“Was it me you called outside or have I just embarrassed myself and you were talking to someone behind me?” You spoke, making him chuckle.

You had to look up in order to maintain eye contact since he was way taller than you.

“I was actually talking to the other hot girl behind you who’s also been giving me compliments every day.” Zach responded, fighting a smile.

“Ah, I’ll be dammed,” you caught on “guess you’ll have to settle for me.”

The boy broke into a bright smile that you instantly mimicked. Zach then began walking away, backwards. “Walk with me.”

“The bell’s about to ring.”

“So? Come on, let’s hang out for a bit.”

“You wanna ditch?”

“Sure, why not? It’s game day, I’ll just come up with an excuse if anyone asks.” Zach kept fiddling with the straps of his red backpack while slowly walking away and he was far enough that he had to raise his voice a bit for you to hear him.

You were still by the entrance, unsure of what to do. A week ago you weren’t even planning on giving this boy a thought and now, here you were, about to ditch History to hang out with the jock.

“What are you gonna tell them, that I’m helping you practice?”

“Yeah.” Zach replied and you shook your head, laughing. He was a bit dumb but strangely, you didn’t seem to mind.

“Fine.” You let out an exaggerated sigh and ran up to him. Seeing you join him made Zach put out his palm, waiting for a high-five and you shook your head but obliged. The bell rang in that very moment and you shared a look with Zach. You didn’t want to get caught by teachers just walking around after the bell.

Unexpectedly, Zach grabbed your hand and pulled you after him as he ran towards the football field. With one hand holding onto him and the other onto the strap of the bag slipping of your shoulder, you ran after the boy, laughing and telling him to slow down.

About half an hour later, you two were under the bleachers.

You were leaning against a truss leg and Zach was leaning against the one opposite yours.

Your legs were resting on top of his and both of you were sitting in absolute comfort in each other’s presence. It was as if you had known each other for years and hanging out was a normal, usual activity.

“I just can’t believe you have Elvis Presley’s greatest hits on your phone.” Zach laughed as he went through your music. Your phone was currently in his possession, and his was in yours. You were both curious about the other’s musical taste and what better way to find out than by browsing ITunes libraries?

Zach tapped on a song and “Bossa Nova Baby” started playing through your phone’s speakers. The boy laughed as you began bopping your head to the rhythm.

“As someone who’s got G-Easy on his phone, Zach, you really shouldn’t judge.” You laughed scrolling through the boy’s music.

“He’s got good songs, why does everyone hate him?” Zach retorted.

You just laughed, making Zach smile. He glanced back at your phone and looked for your most played song, tapping on that.

For a couple of minutes, none of you spoke. You just listened to your favorite song softly playing through the speakers and took in the sight of each other.

For the first time, Zach didn’t feel like the Zach Dempsey, star basketball player, “owner” of the school. All his labels faded away as you teased his music taste. And you didn’t feel ignored, or lonely. You felt strangely…happy.

“Why’d you do it?” Zach was the first to speak up again. His voice was low, almost in a whisper.

“What?” You whispered back.

“Why’d you give me all those compliments?” He quickly grabbed his backpack that had been thrown to the side since you two claimed that certain spot a few minutes earlier. After a thorough search, Zach pulled out a handful of notes –your notes.

You leaned forward and grabbed one of them. “I just wanted to make you smile, I don’t know.” You mumbled, looking down at the small piece of paper covered in your handwriting and basketball doodles.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” You shrugged, then leaned forward to place the note back in the small pile. “I can’t believe you’ve kept them.” You smiled.

Zach hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since he got the notes out. His gaze kept trailing between your (e/c) colored eyes and your lips and he just wanted to pull you close and kiss you but he couldn’t. It would’ve been too sudden, too fast and he didn’t want to scare you away.

“Of course I kept them.” His hand was aching to hold yours and he was fighting so hard against doing so. “They’re unexpected and beautiful, just like you.” He smirked.

You snickered. “That’s cheesy, but I forgive you since you’re cute.”

“I know.” He responded while holding up the note in which you mentioned something about his cuteness.

At that, your cheeks went red and you covered your face, looking down smiling.

“You’re cuter, though.”

“Careful, Dempsey. Continue saying stuff like this and your jock reputation will be stained.”

Zach shrugged. “I don’t mind ruining my reputation for you, (Y/N).”

#ross butler #ross butler imagine #zach dempsey #zach dempsey imagine #reggie mantle #reggie mantle imagine #13rw imagine #riverdale #riverdale imagine #I HOPE ITS GOOD

1K notes · View notes