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thekitschdiet · 3 years ago

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the kitsch diet part II

part one alr posted!! this chunk is about 3,000~ words long... let me know what u think :-) thank u all for all the luv already!!! looks like I really will hit 31 followers by easter!!!!!!!!

Who is the Kitsch Girl?

I think this is more loosely defined, but The Chic Diet did a truly admirable way of reducing a girl to her YSL bag and her really skinny legs. Now, that implies an archetype, or a population in a specific location. I think kitschness is kind of the niche you fill when you’re not really much of anything else, sort of your own conglomerate of mainstream-specific. One major requirement, though, is being a little too into something somewhat uncool. And the whole illusion falls apart if you have any sort of outward insecurity. See, the Kitsch Girl is somewhat undefinable because she is so much of everything. She exists in multitudes, in a way that is also quite simple to understand; think of a list of axioms, or principles to live by. And now add a section to each one that says “but…” to make a collection of verified exceptions. Say, the kitsch girl will never wear jeans. But she thrifted this pair of vintage flares she just loves. She doesn’t reply to texts efficiently, but sometimes she will within a couple seconds. No mascara, no dinner forks, candles are to be collected not burned; but that was a gift, or something. It’s not personal, of course, those are just the contradictions she exists in. Don’t try to understand it, the enigma is essential to the facade. Or maybe she just lives like this, and her character is so homogenous with her inner world there’s no sense in trying to separate it. You have to have a little bit of an individuality complex about the whole ordeal, which is normally so eugh, but if you’re kitschy enough it works on you. Trust!The Kitsch girl is not someone unlikeable, but amiable and well heeled. I double checked that last one, assuming it meant liked by most, but apparently means affluent. I suppose that is an aspect of the kitsch girl too, having seemingly endless frivolous expenses with no real strain, but that’s not important right now. People that don’t like her think so out of jealousy, or something. Envious that her clothes are all kind of shake-it-up-esque and her highlights desperately need touching up, but she still seems so enthralled with the whole of life… How does she enjoy her own company so much when other people want to know her better? Doesn’t she feel weird about blowing people off to make a joke about reading Kafka in the bath? Why would she document her cluttered, unexciting life on Instagram so delicately, so vibrantly? Of course, no one would say this to her face because they are really baseless claims. She’s nice, generous, and valuable to have as a friend. Trade-offs exist, as they do with anyone. But I like thinking it’s easier to overlook a forgotten birthday when your kitschy best friend gave you a multi strand pearl necklace to celebrate the welcome breeze of June. Or some other made-up holiday. She is so unassuming if you’re not really looking. Girls want in on her inner circle. Or they just don’t care. Nothing wrong with being liked or thought of naught, for the most part. Boys are either enthralled or repulsed by her. Her doctor knows her as something of a hypochondriac, but only minorly. It’s just carpal tunnel, don’t worry… The sales staff at CVS turn a blind eye when she slips an eyeliner pencil into her tote bag. She shoplifts on occasion, just to see if she still knows how. But she is not a shoplifter. $9 here and $6.45 there doesn’t really add up to much. Everywhere she goes, she makes a tertiary friend or two. The term of friend is loosely used here, of course. But it is nice to tell a stranger you like her earrings. Or her phone case is so fun, is it Wildflower? The kitsch girl has an eye for this kind of detail. Simply put, she is sort of unspectacular. But in a way that makes you sort of wish you knew her better.

Phone cases

The phone case is, like, religious for the kitsch girl. Sorry, but there’s just no other accessory as flippant and expensive and single-purpose as a trendy little iPhone case with some semitacky stickers plastered over the design. I used to have an iPhone XS- extrasmall- with like, 18 phone cases. It was kind of a sordid affair. I jest, but really… owning that many phone cases was kind of sick. We get it, you are frivolous and spontaneous and sooo stylish! Stop posting mirror selfies on your Instagram story, your crush isn’t going to see it. Kidding again. Having an extensive collection of phone cases is just so fun because while attainable, most people just simply do not partake in it. That makes you kitschy and unique. I really thought I had more to say about the IDEA of the phone case, but I guess in practice it is all very, very simple. You can slide your driver’s license in the back of a clear case. At what point does it stop being cool to have legal operational control of a vehicle? I don’t display mine because I don’t really like the photo. I look round. In the eyes but also just in general, swollen, unglamorous. Whatever. Not like I drive a Nissan or anything. I drive my *Mom’s* Nissan. Playing Bladee in the car seems sacrilegious. She would hate it.Back to phone cases. Sonix ones are cute but kind of overpriced retail- unless you have like, an iPhone 12 Pro Max or whatever the fuck is new this year, just go to Winner’s. They always have Xs and 11 cases. I had a cherry one for my previous phone, like the exact one Lana Del Rey had? Thank god I sold it before she got outed as a copfucker or whatever. Casetify is for an inadvertent flex. Flexing your lame, lame taste. Sorry, I know you bought it because you liked it, but what you failed to consider is just how un-Kitsch they are. SO common, and they advertise on Instagram. Sorry, I just can’t get into it! Kind of how I just never liked the Brandy Amara tanks. Or lowtop converse. Otterbox is just distressing. Like, if my boyfriend gave me an otterbox phone case I would probably break up with him because somebody clearly isn’t paying attention- one of my favorite, potentially overused joke is how Otterbox cases are the equivalent of orthopedic insoles. Sorry but if you have poor arch support or whatever, but no pain is worth giving up a good pair of Margiela slingback tabi heels. Obviously I couldn’t afford that right now because all loose income goes directly to Wildflower and my cig boy. But like, one day. I hope you want to punch me in the face a little bit after reading that. If Wildflower isn’t your thing, at least have the decency to get a beaded phone strap. But not from String Ting. Pray tell you aren’t keeping score, but they are one of my several parasocial enemies. That should have been ME collaborating with Wildflower! Should have been ME mailing shit to Caroline Calloway (more on her later, but she is the only blue check I follow. I adore her! I was on her patreon for a bit I thinkl!!) …. Side note. Phone cases are cute but there is no way to properly protect your laptop without looking just absurd or colossally lame. The foam sleeves… ick.

Having the shittiest music taste ever

So like, here’s the thing. I’m an Apple Music user, which sort of reinstates my status as an unironic My Bloody Valentine Hyperpop Death Grips kinda gal. Read; volcel. My most recent conquest ended up being a huge L on my part, but also… I totally dodged a bullet. The guy had an iPhone 11 (female trait) and didn’t know who Rei Brown was, which just seemed suspicious given his Niche. I just know he had a “making out playlist” comprising entirely of like, Joji. Which isn’t a bad thing I guess but so unembarrassing it horseshoes back to being humiliating.Like I said. Having the worst music taste. It’s nice how subjective and deeply personal your music taste can be; no one really Needs to know you’re a die hard drainer. But there’s also no point in being a die-hard drainer and Not capitalizing off it somehow. I added it up and I have well over 150 hours of just Bladee and Yung Lean. Which is so yass? The more I write, using myself as a case study, I realize just how desperately jobless I am. And Yogenfruz isn’t even hiring! UGH!I think there is something very kitschy about liking hyperpop in the least ironic, least obnoxious way. Sort of feeds into a “I’m not like other girls” thing, but I mean… That’s kind of the idea of kitsch, isn’t it? Be a little different but also the very same as your lipgloss brethren?!Side note. If you make monthly playlists I am genuinely kind of afraid of you. That is just so organized!! I just make playlists with esoteric titles and then make a new one when I’m sick of the stuff on the last. I have exhausted most genres but I think my favorite is the “I’m wearing f****ng air forces and my teeth are SO white”. Guess what genre it is. Or don’t, but it’s probably what you think is. Okay, moving on….

Curating a scent

I like thinking I smell like mango and peach, Glossier you, whatever citrus is in that Lush shower jelly and mint 5Gum. But of course it is probably less distinct and just kind of generally fruit-floral-mint. Anyway. I think Glossier You is the perfect scent for anyone with a rather elementary understanding of the whole.. Perfume business. Every bottle of intentional fragrance I own was made via aesthetic choices… it really helps that Glossier You is so cute And so universal. Now, Glossier is kind of interesting to me because it really is at the intersection of cheugy and kitsch. Kind of basic, overplayed, unspectacular. But also…. Often popular things are popular because they are good. Glossier has excellent customer suurv, they ship SO fast (and no import duties! W!) and their stuff is just so sweet and nice if not unoriginal, in kind of the same way strawberry ice cream is. Which is still my favorite, of course, especially if there’s a vegan option. I was talking about Glossier. What the hell! It’s really worth trying out. A huge principle of kitsch is just… having as many possible layers and appendages to your composure as possible. And adding a signature scent just really completes that! When curating your own, I say this as a complete amateur, know-nothing; make it something that comes kind of naturally to Your Character. Like, I’m just not a Chanel No 5 kind of girl. Odds are you aren’t either. My bottle (before she asked for it back when I told her I didn’t use it, in exchange for a Nordstrom’s gift card) was from my grandmother. Ummm.. Yeah, I really have no expertise in curating a scent. But it is nice to have a signature. And having a bottle displayed on your dresser next to your aughties McDonald milkshake themed beanie baby and a handful of lip products is just way too fun! This is the kind of girl I am, everyone! Cluttered, but prioritizing pretty-delicate things!

Cheugyism

Cheugy is a relatively new word that has unfortunately wormed into my vocabulary to replace “uncouth”. Which I use to mean graceless or tacky, but if that isn’t what it means…. Don’t tell me. That would hurt more than weighing myself after a “feast” slash pastry binge at my dear Grandmothe’s house. Like I was saying. Cheugy. It’s sort of a fucked up concept to me because it is a critique on consumption, but not the pace or volume or magnitude of it. But rather… the idea of not being “good” enough at engaging in microtrends, or involvement in the fast paced fashion cycle. Don’t get me started on TikTok, or do, but… yeah,. No. That will require a cigarette because I’m so sorry, but writing a thinkpiece on social media is so lowbrow I would need to find about six ways to aesthetically counteract it…. Moving on. I think the idea of cheugy is good, we really do need a word to simply and efficiently define “out of date/uninspired/lame”. But the way it is used to shame others for not liking the same trends or whatever is kind of gross. If you use cheugyism to put other people down and not as a neutral identifier umm… you will become what you fear. Sorry, that’s what happens. Some things that I think are cheugy or embarrassing, or just not part of my stylistic lexicon are… 1. Hooded or zip up clothing, or things with a large graphic on the back. Bingo if it's all three! I just can’t get behind it. Side note, my summer home outfit is brandy sweats and a tube top (Urban Outfitters tank I ripped the straps off) and a large cardigan that should have belonged to a stoner, but probably didn’t. I can dunk on bulky, uninspired clothes because I would honest to God NEVER be caught DEAD out of the house wearing any of it. I’m so serious. Next segment should be about the kitsch girl’s inadvertent affinity for diuretics. Remind me….. One of the ports of my laptop is dead. Not really sure what to do about that.

Eye makeup and what it means to me….

Personally, I am one of those people who never wears foundation and kind of has a complex about it. The kitsch girl wears fluffy eyelashes and owns a plethora of sparkly eyeliner. Or maybe she doesn’t, but she has something distinct and a little ritzy, if not haphazard. We all saw Euphoria and it like, totally imprinted on us. The way glitter sits on your face after a long day is so resplendent. When it’s shining and a little bit melted off from your long, semi-productive day… ugh! Just made for film. Pictures on film. But not the Prequel app. I keep getting fucking ads for it. But it’s so embarrassing. Like, isn’t the whole point of film the authenticity of the moment? The texture of the afternoon? Why would you fabricate that? Prequel is just so cheugy. More on that later. But anyhow. Wearing a ton of eye makeup kind of fits with the idea of film too I think. Like, look at you, in the moment. With your strip lash falling off! It’s all so tres-chic. Plus, for whatever reason, it’s kind of unique or notably dedicated to ~Pull up to the function~ with more eye makeup on than everyone else. Sorry, but it really doesn’t take that long! But yes I will gracefully accept your praise… it’s kind of like the dropshipping of complements if you think about it. Easy to source with little to no effort in the curating. Side note, lashes are like $20 for 40 weeks if you cut them in half and use each pair about 5 times. You could probably do more but I lose track. How the fuck is it almost June? I was trudging through the snow to check the mail for my Online Ceramics shirt just last week, I swear. The trick to cutting your lashes (the way I do it anyway) is pretty simple. Get out two lashes that are symmetrical. Find the middle and cut one slightly to the left and one slightly to the right. This means you have two sets (one set is a little more dramatic than the other but at least they are symmetrical) with longer outer edges. Glue this to the outer corner of your eye and you will look so Composed… obsessed with how this layers with three eyeliner tails (one traditional one pointing up and one pointing down directly below it, sort of like the tail light on a 2019 Lexus UX) and one below your eye, like a clown. Fun, irrelevant fact, is the first time I added this third tail to my eye makeup, my dad had just gotten home from the hospital because he was sure he had like appendicitis or something and it was actually.. Not that. Typical indie hypochondriac. He made me bring him cottage cheese on a plate with a teaspoon that evening. I put black pepper on it for flair, which he hated. Walking up and down stairs with a plate of cottage cheese is much more imprinting than most of the multiplication tables. Don’t forget to use a bright shimmer eyeshadow in your inner corner. It really opens up your eyes. I recommend Too Faced. One time I got a little bit too high and tried to film an “editorial” makeup tutorial. You will never, ever, ever see that video. But I essentially covered my whole eyelid in the ABH shadow “palermo” and smudged out the edges with a tan Tartelette Toasted shade, coupled with my long-expired Milk Makeup holographic stick. Lopsided lashes and near-blinding eyeliner experience aside, it was kind of cool. My point is, you really cannot go wrong with an arsenal of shimmers, taupey mattes and a good eyeliner pen.

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themissingmarvel · 5 years ago

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Kind Regards, Detective [Part 6]

(So, forgive me for this both: being long, and not having a lot of Loki in it. I understand if this chapter turns people off or doesn’t get a lot of love. I won’t be hurt by it. But it needed to be done. So hopefully I don’t lose readers but if I do, like I said, I understand.

Catch up: [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Drabble] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Drabble 2] // [Part 5]

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k [yikes]

Warnings: Language. Poor life choices. )

Back when Y/N was in undergrad, she remembered one of her classmates affectionately telling her she was afflicted with what was known as “resting bitch face”. She became known as the Queen of the RBF within her circles, and honestly it remained with her. But it was protective, and in times like this, when a precinct was staring at you, you had to protect yourself.

One of the things that would come up was a conflict of interest, she knew that immediately. Her supervising agent would be concerned about a package sent directly to her. No one would know the depth of it, though. They’d know it was in reference to her sister’s passing, but the song? The CD itself? She could lie. And she would. Even when her phone rang and she ignored it, she kept her face stoic and her eyes locked on the computer, scanning over the evidence collected from the scene still.

“Agent Y/N, there’s a call for you from the bureau-” a young officer, though not a rookie, popped his head in.

She didn’t even look up, “That’s cool.”

Loki glanced from her to the officer who looked more confused than anything. Clearly that was not the answer he was hoping for.

“I mean, they want to talk to you.” He suddenly got quieter. Meeker.

Again, she didn’t even pause, “Nice of them. I’ll send them a thank-you card later.”

Now the officer was confused, “Did you want to answer it out front or I can-”

“Tell them I’m dead. Or I’m in the bathroom. Whatever. I’m busy so please don’t come in again.” Her eyes glanced briefly from the screen to the man who got the hint, his mouth in a straight line as he backed out of the room, entirely missing David Loki’s very soft smirk.

But she was. Busy, that was. Not dead. She had found a few interesting leads, and was suddenly finding a rather disturbing pattern, “David, c’mere a sec. I need you to look at this and tell me I’m not crazy,” she looked across the table at the man who’d been poring over the papers and pictures, hating to look at bodies but knowing now was not the time to be squeemish. He thought his note was bad… hers was tenfold. Whatever it was. He didn’t know about her sister. Or any of her life, really. He knew what she had shared. He was vaguely terrified that this would stop all of it.

Standing, he walked over to where she was, a spreadsheet open, “So look,” she held up a finger, glancing back to the man who was leaning over, face by hers as he looked at the screen, the moment intense, though far from intimate, “if we follow the purchases, the television is old but beyond state-of-the-art, telling us it was pricy. And you don’t leave pricy things behind, especially if you think you can be traced. And when we tracked the generator down, it was from a different manufacturing company, so both were dismissed out of hand. But when we add in the piece about the phone company provider and the chemical weapon used… Look.”

She brought up a page of a very formal looking website, Safety in the palm of your hand was the caption under the large “West Company” logo in block letters at the top. David knew of them, but clearly Y/N knew more, “The company does a lot of work with technology and weapon engineering. The federal government has a contract with them, so we’ve worked with them before. David, they even have a lab on site…”

He stood back, looking down at her with focus and concern. Without the chemical agent to go off of, the connection might be a reach. But the fact that it all tied to one company, and one that would have direct links to technology to reach into… anything, meant it was a good chance that the person they needed would be there.

“So what do we do with this? I mean, that’s a huge company. And with a defense contract, they’re probably not gonna wanna talk to you,” David crossed his arms in front of his chest, concern on his features. She was a bloodhound who had finally picked up a scent and he had a sinking feeling she’d chase that scent, regardless of what came in her way.

Nodding, she closed the laptop, “Normally that’d be true, but I may have a way into the company records. I can’t divulge why. I just need you to trust me.” Her eyes were wide. And pleading. She had just been hit with a wrecking ball and already she was back on her feet, but David knew she was hurting. And pain made you do stupid things. But she was slowly becoming his weak spot.

Pushing back his hair he sighed, “Fine. What do we do next?”

Standing up and grabbing her phone that had more missed calls than she could reasonably get away with, she shrugged, “We don’t do anything. I make a call, and you keep going over evidence. I have to go back and grab something at the hotel. I left a file back there we’ll need to keep moving forward on this.”

There was something in her voice, her tone perhaps, or her body language. David would blame himself later, as he always did, for not noticing. He’d tell himself it was his fault. He should have known she wasn’t going to the hotel, or at least that wasn’t her final stop. And as she walked outside without her federal issued phone, only her keys and wallet in hand as she held her jacket tight, she understood what had to happen.

_____

She wasn’t lying. Not completely. She had gone to the hotel and grabbed her personal phone, the one she used for calling her parents, listening to music, listening to audiobooks when she was stuck on airplanes, or in this case, long car drives alone. But her first call had been, surprising to most, to Henry Best. The man was one of the top CEO and board members of West Company and one she knew better than most. It was the way she had into the company.

Henry had been surprised to hear her voice, though not disappointed. He had liked Y/N when he met her four years back, when she had just begun her profiling in the field. Back when she was still wet behind the ears, so to speak. And that she was calling on her personal phone made him even more curious, “Of course. Around when should I expect you?” His voice, smooth as silk with a ‘proper’ British accent, a voice that could melt a woman without effort, came forth.

Glancing at the dashboard of her car, Y/N shrugged, “GPS says it’s another hour. So around 3pm, if that’s all right? Honestly, I hate to barge in like this. And I know you’re doing more than a favor. Especially since the FBI doesn’t even know-”

There was a soft chuckle, the man on the other end smiling, “Please don’t apologize. It would be my pleasure to see you again. After all, it is you I have to thank for where I am now, is it not?” A genuine kind of thanks to his voice, though something else lingered. Perhaps not strong enough for the bluetooth in the car to detect.

Either way, she felt herself smiling as she eyed the guidance system, “That was all your own work, Henry. But we can talk more when I get there. Do I check in at the front desk?” She was adjusting herself in her seat, suddenly a little nervous. She really hadn’t thought this through. And she was still wearing… well, a sweater and jeans. And her hair wasn’t well done, either. Fuck, she really did not think this through.

“I’ll have someone waiting out front to valet the car, don’t worry about parking. Mark will bring you up. Take your time.” He was calm. Cool. Collected. More than he had been before. It was kind of nice.

She nodded, to no one in particular, “Will do. See you in an hour, Henry.” She clicked off the phone, continuing her drive.

Her phone rang again, though this time the number came up as Delete This Later, “Madison is on a rampage. And now I have some podunk Detective Loki- Hey, what kind of name is that even? Whatever, anyway, this dude is calling me wanting to know where you are. I made some shit up about you needing to coordinate with another office. I still have Madison on a rampage, though. He’s your boss. Remember him?”

Rolling her eyes, she was already regretting giving Adrian her personal number, “Thank you for covering. I’m actually headed to see Henry Best. Over at West Company. Who knew my name was so memorable?” She smirked.

Adrian huffed, “Just don’t do anything stupid. Well, more stupid than you already have. Wits about, right?”

She cocked a sideways smirk, “Always. And you know the deal. Call David at 3pm, when I’m due in New York to meet with Henry. I’ll text you the address. And you can give him this number. Otherwise the guy will have a heart attack,” she sighed softly.

There was quiet for a moment before Adrian spoke again, “What did he send you, Ladybug? That guy. I haven’t seen you like this since the Boston case when you almost bumped into the dude we were after. I’m worried.”

But she was quiet. Too quiet.

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I just have a feeling Henry will be able to help.”

___

He had called her. He had called her twice before realizing the ringing was coming from inside her bag. He had thrown his own phone across the room, though one cased in an Otterbox after the officer manager was tired of him breaking phones. Instead, it bounced off and hit the ground. He had wanted to break something. Fucking anything.

It was a flurry of words after that, David having rolled his sleeves up, his hair repeatedly needing to be slicked back as his face looked vaguely similar to John Wick finding his dog dead. He kept telling himself he was angry because she was in harm’s way, and that was true, but there was something more. This woman he had felt vulnerable with, who had in turn shared her own vulnerabilities, was gone. And he knew that she was gone because she was chasing something that not even God himself could stop her from getting. She was on a mission.

David was a driven man just as much, however, and he had gotten through to Y/N’s unit by sheer force of will on the phone. He had kept it together enough that he was actually able to get through to someone named “Adrian Dent” who worked closely with her. The one who had texted her ‘ladybug’ and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like Adrian. No idea why, but when the smug asshole gave him a regurgitated message about her meeting with another agent in another city, he understood it was a lie.

But what else did he have? He was sitting by himself in the conference room they were using, staring at a laptop that had the company name on it. And he knew. He didn’t know exactly, but he knew. And fuck waiting. Fuck telling his chief. Fuck all of it. He was headed to New York City just the same as she was. ____

It had been strange, walking into the large, sleek office building. The floors were marble and the colors back and silver were clearly the aesthetic. She had trailed behind a young man who looked to be no older than twenty-two, probably scored this gig right out of a prestigious college, wanting to work his way into the defense industry. What a strange goal. No stranger, perhaps, than wanting to be an FBI Field Agent.

He was quiet as he lead her up, his earpiece wired in as they took a private elevator to the… damn, fiftieth floor? Last time she could have sworn it was forty. But that was four years ago.

Stepping off the elevator that looked like something out of Blade Runner, she followed the assistant carefully down the hall, carpeted in black with dark wood lining it. Far fewer people here. And it was clear, by the large double doors ahead, that this was where she was going, “Mr. Best is inside, you may enter.” He looked almost smug. She didn’t belong. He knew it. She knew it.

Shrugging off her winter jacket, she knocked on the door, heading the rather gentle, “Please, come in,” beckoning her forth.

It had been four years since she saw him, but Henry looked amazing. He had before but… there was something else now. His dark blonde hair was styled on his head, not slicked down but a certain casual and professional look to it. He had on a white business shirt, black tie tight around his neck though with his sleeves rolled up. And he, of course, was gorgeous. Blue eyes that felt like they could stop you in your tracks, angular features that made him all the more distinguished. He looked good.

And the office was amazing. An entire wall was purely windows, looking out at the impressive New York City skyline. It was like being in a movie. Her entire life she had never existed in a world like this, and now she was investigating a serial killer in an office that looked so extraordinary it hurt. Book shelves, a large desk by the back where he had been standing, oak, of course. He smiled, a sort of crooked smile that, were she paying attention, would have concerned her more. But he was smiling as he walked over, “Oh, please, let me take that. Shouldn’t have you lugging this around,” he smiled as he got close, taking the jacket from her hands, draping it over a chair nearby.

Nervous, suddenly, she pushed back her hair, “Thank you… and sorry about not being dressed for the occasion… Like I said, kind of a rush deal getting here,” she laughed nervously, fidgeting.

“Nonsense. You look wonderful, if I may say so. Would you care to take a seat? I wager you’ve just driven a bit of a ways, so I’ll understand if you’d like to stand.” There was care in his voice and tone, and suddenly she was struck by how strange it was. She tended to trust her gut, and suddenly it was telling her to be aware.

Smiling with her placating, plastic smile, she shook her head, “I’m happy to sit.”

He looked satisfied with the answer, gesturing to the table in the corner, two cups and a teapot on it, “Please, take a seat. May I offer you some tea?” He sat across from her, his movements graceful and purposeful, and perhaps almost serpent-like.

She held up a hand, “No thank you. Long drive back, don’t want to have to make pit stops,” she smiled at the man who looked… content. Relaxed. Hardly what she remembered before.

He was pouring himself a cup, Y/N looking around as she noticed a plant on his desk. Well, one. And flowers on his window. Gorgeous lilies. And orchids. Succulents were on two shelves of the book cases. She couldn’t help but smile, “Quite a lot of greenery around your office, Henry.”

Taking a sip of the tea, he smiled, “After we spoke those years ago, I took you up on your suggestion. I began gardening. Took a month off, worked on myself, and began gardening. Hobbies really are a lifesaver, aren’t they?” He was watching her now, able to see that brief moment of her eyes widening, ever so slightly, her breath catching in her throat. He could see her wheels turning. But she was no mere rabbit. Fear was not something that drove her.

And true, in her own mind she was rationalizing it, “I’m glad it seemed to work for you. Having a hobby like that can be therapeutic. And it seems like our meetings got you back on track. How have things been now?”

Of course, she was referring to the incident that had lead her to his office years ago. He had lost his wife in a rather tragic car accident. From what he had told the police, they had gotten into a fight, and before he could stop her, she had gotten her keys and driven off. She’d wound up running a red light at a major intersection and was killed on impact.

Something was clicking, now. His face changed every so slightly when she asked how things had been. Hobbies. Not just gardening. And now she was poking at the wound.

He nodded, quite like the gentleman he was, “Much better. Work has been consuming much of my time. I imagine you’re in a similar boat. I always sensed we were quite alike in that way,” he placed the tea back down and smiled at her.

There was a feeling of anger that came with the comment, though she was unsure why. It wasn't rude in any way, nor did it infer anything negative about her. But it felt personal.

“Speaking of work… I’m here because I think I have a lead on my case. And not to be an alarmist, I’m somewhat concerned they’re linked with your company somehow,” she eyed him carefully.

He looked out the window with a bit of a chuckle, “We have quite a few employees, you know. Do you have anything more to go off of? I’d love to help you, but that’s quite a broad brush to be painting with, Y/N,” his smile was daring this time. He was playing with her. What may not have been personal now was. But he was fishing, too. He wanted to see what she had. If she’d divulge.

She was many things in this world. Stupid was not on that list.

“If you could set me up with someone in human resources, I might be able to go over a filter given some of the profiles I have set up. Think you could make an exception for me?” She forced a smile, hoping, perhaps, she was wrong about that feeling in her gut. The feeling that was screaming at her, louder now, telling her to get out of the building. To find her car. But he had that, didn’t he? He had insisted he park it for her. Insisted he take her up through the private elevator. And she had complied.

Maybe she was wrong.

“Were I a different man, I might argue against it. But you’ve done quite a bit for me, Y/N, more than you know. You helped me realize my potential in those meetings. The kind of man I could be. And so of course, Agent Y/L/N, I would be more than honored to help. After what you’ve done for me. Truly, it stayed with me.” He smiled. And he was being honest. Sincere. She had made an impact in his life that had changed the entire course of his world. He had gone from a man on the brink of losing his life to drugs and alcohol over the loss of his true love, to a man who had channeled his grief into something else. He understood what it meant to lose.

A feeling of relief washed over her and she smiled, more sincere this time, “That’s really kind of you. And if it means anything, I always knew you’d come back from it. It’s why I recommended the board keep you on. We all have choices in life, I’m glad you made yours.”

A small ‘chirp’ came from the digital watch on the man’s wrist, looking down as he grimaced slightly, “Seems I’ve had an unfortunate emergency arise. I’ve got your number, so I’ll be sure to give you a call when I can locate someone in HR who can work remotely. Wouldn’t want you taking the trek back and forth from Conyers again, would we? You said over the phone the Detective you’re working with is stationed there as well,” He smiled as he stood, the agent doing the same.

He handed her the jacket she’d come in with, walking her to the door. And for a moment, she knew she could walk out and it would be the end of it. Her gut would stop screaming at her, now from the top of its lungs, and maybe she could get out unscathed. She could simply walk to the elevator and find a way to do things on her terms. She knew, deep down, that she could walk out the door confident in her own beliefs and he would be confident that she had only the brief terror that prey does when suspecting a predator nearby.

Instead, she turned as she walked out the door, her eyes locking onto his, “I meant to ask, you have so many different plants and flowers, do you have any favorites? I’m a lavender woman, myself,” she smiled strongly, forcing herself to speak now as she felt the rest of herself coming undone.

And he smiled. The smile that would seal in every fear she had, every terror that she would feel, every nightmare that would haunt her, and she knew that look in his eyes with that smile as he spoke, “Oh, my dear, it’s roses I love best. Give my kindest regards to Detective Loki, won’t you?”

It took every ounce of strength she had to stay standing as he closed the door with the look of a man she had seen once. The man who had fallen apart but was wearing the mask of something else. She understood his comment, now. Two sides of the same coin. Two people shaped by tragedy. Two lives changed in a moment. And a grin on his face that felt like a bullet to her chest.

Kind Regards indeed.

Fuck.

(Tagging: @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @is-it-madness @detecellie @doritosandavocados @oscarflysaac @peccobagnaia @fgtakbrjbdl @miss-missing-patd send me a message to be added/removed)

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1157

survey by hxcsingingsk8r

Phone Scavenger Hunt

First off, what phone do you have? I have an iPhone 8.

And what provider do you use? It’s a local one you wouldn’t know about, called Globe.

How long have you had your current phone? I can’t remember if it would be 3 or 4 years this 2021. Either way, it’s definitely been a while and I’ve been itching to upgrade. It’s too early to make such a big purchase, though.

Do you have any cases for it? Describe them. I have a clear case that I bought last year. Before that, I had a pink Otterbox case that I managed to destroy even though Otterbox is normally known for its durability. I just have a very unique ability to wreck everything I’ve ever owned lol.

How old were you when you got your first cellphone? I was technically 6, but it was meant to be a present for my 7th birthday. We threw a birthday party a month in advance because my dad had to fly back abroad for work before my actual birthday, but we wanted him to be present at the celebration so we decided throwing a party early was the best route.

What about your first smartphone? [If the answer is different] It was an iPhone 5S.

How old are you now? Dunno what this has to do with the theme of the survey but I am now 22.

Okay, move onto the scavenger hunt part

What is your lock screen picture of? It’s of Kim Seon Ho at a restaurant, lmao.

Home screen? It’s one of the shots from a recent promotional photoshoot Hayley did for Good Dye Young.

How many pictures are thre currently on your phone? This question just made me so anxious hahaha. I have way too many photos; and upon checking, it turns out I currently have 6,266. My god do I need to clean up my camera roll this weekend.

How many videos? I have 227. I have no idea it’s gotten to be this many; I barely use my phone to take videos. I’ll go ahead and delete some of them right now, just to give my phone (and its storage) space to breathe.

What is your most recent picture of? It’s a work thing...I guess I’ll explain it so it can make more sense. So one of our clients has got this Lent campaign going on, and to spread word about it we’ve tapped a handful of food bloggers to try out the offers themselves and post about their experience on social media. Now that we’re in the middle of Holy Week they’ve gone ahead and uploaded their own posts, and I’m in charge of taking screenshots so I can show to the client that the execution had been successful.

And the most recent video? It’s a private vlog. Every Sunday, or at least every other Sunday I take a few minutes to sit down and do a weekly video thing where I talk about my ~mental~ and ~emotional~ status, and it’s basically a way to be in touch with myself and keep track of my progress. Who knows, maybe I’ll actually get to uploading them one day.

Do you have any albums? If so, of what? Yeah. I have one for Cooper, one for Kimi, and a bunch of tiny albums I’ve made where I compiled 4–5 photos of friends to post on their birthdays.

What pictures have you favorited? I have a lot of favorited photos. There’s no required category for me to label them as such.

Do you have any shared albums with friends or family or work? No. I’m not sure if I can do that, or how to do it if it is allowed.

Do you have any alarms set? For what time and for what occasions? I have a bunch of alarms but only because they’re archived into the Clock app and I just haven’t gotten around to deleting them. When I was still new at my work, I used to have alarms set for certain work tasks I have to take note of every week – but now that I’ve gotten into the groove of things, I don’t need the alarms to be reminded about them anymore.

Check your weather app, what is the weather and temperature where you live? It says ‘Mostly Clear’ and shows a temperature of 26ºC.

Do you have the YouTube app? Do you have your own channel? I do have the app and my own account, but I never use it to post videos. It’s nice to have my own channel so that my homepage can be tailored to my interests.

Do you have an email app? Which one do you use? I just have the default Email app that comes with iOS, but I never use it because it’s so wonky. It doesn’t refresh new emails and it takes forever when it does, and it doesn’t always show the full thread of email conversations. If I absolutely need to check my email for something I usually have to pull out my laptop.

Does it say that there is an update available on your phone or any apps? Yes, it reminds me everyday hahaha. I don’t update unless Apple has been planning a big revamp with new features, though; and if the updates are just to address bugs, I disregard the reminders.

Go into your contacts, how many contacts do you have total? It says I have 178.

Name all of your contacts under the letter M: Feels a tad bit invasive, so I’ll just name five people I have under M: Lui, Kim, Patrice, Danika, and Andi.

Name all of your contacts under the letter U: I don’t have anyone under U.

Do you have any contacts that are businesses rather than people? Which ones? No, I don’t really use text to contact businesses. If I wanted to inquire or order from one, I usually head to their social media page.

Go into your notes, how many notes do you have saved? This is another one I have a hoarding problem with lol. My phone says I currently have 561 notes, though I’m fairly certain the biggest chunk of it comes from minutes I’ve taken down from work meetings. It was a whole lot less when I was still in school.

What kinds of things do you save in your notes? Like I said, I use Notes for taking down minutes from meetings. There are also a few surveys on there, from times I didn’t have internet and couldn’t post them on here.

Do you have any voice memos saved? What of? Yep. Some of them were recordings I had to do for journalism classes I was assigned to do voiceovers; some are interviews, also from my journ class; and the rest are of me rambling.

Do you ever use the calculator app? Pretty frequently for work.

Do you ever use the Maps app? Not really. If I needed directions, I would check out Waze for that.

Do you have any health/fitness apps? Which ones? I still have the Nike Training app from the very brief time I wanted to start working out earlier this year.

Do you have the Instacart app? The what now? I’ve never even heard of that.

What about a delivery service like Postmates, Uber Eats, Grubhub, Doordash? I have the McDelivery app for McDonald’s, but I also have other general delivery apps like Grab, Lalamove, and Transportify.

Do you have something like Venmo, Cashapp, or Paypal? I have the Paypal app but I never use it. I also have a couple of e-wallet apps just in case I’d have to use them as a payment method, since some businesses I purchase from prefer certain ones. Ultimately, though, I use Grab’s mobile wallet the most often.

Do you use Bitmoji? I think I did before? I never used it all that regularly though. Didn’t see the point.

What other keyboards do you use besides English? Any? Filipino, Korean, and Emoji.

Which social media network apps do you have? Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, Tumblr, TikTok, and Snapchat. So I guess I have all the main ones?

If you have Instagram, what is your handle and how many followers? I have a very private one I only use for work. I didn’t want it to have any followers but at present there’s Angela (because she asked to follow it this week) and Bea (idk why).

What do you typically post on the various social media platforms? The only ones I regularly post on are Twitter and Facebook, and on either I share life updates (if there are any) and memes; though on Facebook I have to watch out what kind of memes I share and make sure they aren’t too offensive because I’m friends with relatives, workmates, and media on there lmao. But on Twitter, I basically have no filter.

Do you make TikTok videos? I don’t make any myself, but I do enjoy going through the app.

Do you only add people you know on Facebook? Yes, for the most part. I’ve taken to adding people as long as they’re from UP or my high school even though I’ve never met them as well, but if I sense that they only added me to try and sell me insurance OR try to get me into MLM, then it’s an instant unfriend for me.

Do you have an app that tracks Instagram followers? No, because I don’t need to track my Instagram followers. I’m off the radar as off the radar gets.

Do you have a Snapchat? Yeah, it’s still on my phone just because but I literally never touch it anymore.

Do you ever take selfies with filters? What app's filters do you use? Eh, just before. I don’t really take selfies anymore, period.

Do you use any apps like Depop or Poshmark or Etsy? No. Out of these three I’ve only ever heard of Etsy, too.

What messengers do you use to talk to people? Any besides just texting? I have Messenger to stay in touch with family and friends; Whatsapp and Viber for work; and Telegram just in case my friends want to play games.

Do you have any photo editing apps? Which ones? I have this app called Foodie that has some pretty filters. Otherwise, since I’m not on Instagram anyway I’m never on the lookout for photo editing apps; no one ever filters their photos on Facebook and Twitter lol.

Do you have any games? Which ones? I do have a ton of games on my phone. I never play any of them, but I keep them just in case I get bored enough to start revisiting them. I have word games, drinking games, games similar to Heads Up! where one person will have to guess the word on the screen while the phone is on their forehead, and gimmicky games like 1010! and Candy Crush haha.

Do you have any rideshare apps like Lyft or Uber? I have Grab, which is a rideshare, parcel delivery, food delivery, and online grocery app all in one.

Now go to the actual phone app, whose phone numbers are saved as favorites? I don’t tag any of my contacts as favorites.

Who was your most recent outgoing call to? I can’t recognize the number, so it was probably a Transportify driver that I called to give him directions to my house.

Who was your most recent incoming call from? I also can’t recognize the number, but this time he was most likely a Grab driver.

Who was your most recent missed call from? Again, can’t recognize the number HAHAA

Why did you miss that call? On purpose? Were you sleeping? Busy? My phone is on silent 24/7, so I must have missed it while I was working.

Who is your most recent voicemail from and what's it regarding? We don’t have voicemail in the Philippines.

What was the last thing you Googled or searched on your phone? Candle tunneling and how to fix it.

What music app do you use? Apple Music? Spotify? Something else? I use Spotify, but I also availed of a 3-month trial on Apple Music earlier this year just because. I think it’s supposed to end soon but I have no plans to shift.

What playlists have you made on there? I have playlists called, “robyn discovers kpop,” “winding down,” “angst,” “not my loss,” and my personal favorite, “paramore but fuck you.”

Lastly, what is the most recent song/album you've added to your collection? What Type of X - Jessi.

#survey #surveys

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pyroghost · 4 years ago

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After binding me for some reason they started leading me somewhere. i wonder where to...

From what I've been able to tell the eye ‘creature’ that I've named Otterbox always follows us around when creatures are transported. Despite being taller that me,I don’t know what they do, especially since there not all tied up.

Unlike ‘humans’ (in which they call themselves) Otterbox feels cold when you walk close to him. am i cold too? Is that why humans never want to stay close to me?

#eyyy new character #im trying to learn animation so i can post videos on youtube #=_=#swan #otterbox #pyroghost #digitalart #if you actually read that then thanks!

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iwillphysicallyfiteyou · 5 years ago

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Part Three❤ When the Villain Becomes the Hero

Virgil’s POV

Summary: Logan and Virgil go for a walk, and stumble to a party.

Pairing: LAMP

Content warnings will spoil this series. If you need content warnings, then don’t read this.

Previous, Next.

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

It’s been weeks since I’ve left our apartment.

Deceit has been surprisingly nice, he’s been calling me to check up on me, and The Duke’s even sent a couple of text messages. Logan is basically my mom at this point. He’s been making my breakfast, lunch, dinner, and will occasionally give me snacks. Every night we sit on my bed and watch Netflix on his laptop. He always apologizes that he’s gone for most of the day because of work, even though I keep telling him that he has nothing to apologize for.

“Hey Logan,” I say as I walk into the living room.

“Yes?” He quickly stands up from the couch. He gives me a questioning gaze. “What’s with the get-up?”

I look down at my black trench coat and combat boots.

“I want to go for a walk.”

“It’s summer in Florida. Why are you wearing a coat?”

“I’m cold.”

“Yeah, because of the air conditioning inside, which is not outside.:

“Are you going to go for a walk with me or not?” I ask as I take the jacket off.

“Yes, just let me get dressed.”

He goes into his room wearing his villain outfit, then comes out wearing a sweater with jeans.

“A black sweater? It’s summer in Florida,” I mock.

Logan playfully rolls his eyes while grabbing his phone off of the couch.

He hasn’t changed his phone case in four years. He used to not have a phone case at all until I bought him a plain black otterbox, now he won’t take it off.

“Let's go,” he says as he puts his phone, wallet, and keys into his pockets.

We walk a couple of blocks before we end up in the rich part of town.

“How is it that we’re two of the most famous people in the world, yet we live in a shitty apartment instead of these big houses?” I ask as I stare at Logan’s hand. Why do I have such an urge to hold it?

“Well, our dorms are really nice.”

I sigh.

“They must be having a big party,” Logan says.

I look up from Logan’s hand and see in the distance a big house with a ton of people hanging out in the front yard. They all seem quite young, early twenties or late teens. Logan and I’s age.

“Must be nice.”

Logan gives me a quick sad smile.

When we get closer a girl walks towards us. Her long curly orange hair is in low pigtails. She has freckles and dimples, and she’s absolutely adorable.

When she gets closer I realize she’s looking straight at us.

“Hi,” she smiles as she greets us.

“Hello?”

“I know who you two are,” she says.

“Well that’s not terrifying at all,” I say as I take a step back.

“Your Misery Vails and SuperLogic,” she whispers.

Heat rushes to my face as my legs tingle.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. How is your wound? I got worried when you left in the middle of the night, especially when you went silent afterward.”

“Holy shit, you’re Moral Daisy,” I say as I examine her appearance. She’s quite a bit short than I am, which is impressive since I’m 5′7. She’s very petite, and her sweet high-pitched voice is unforgettable.

She excitedly nods her head, as if she didn’t just reveal her identity to two of the biggest villains in the entire world.

“Holy-”

“Do you wanna come inside? It’s my eighteenth birthday party,” Moral Daisy interrupts Logan.

“Sure,” Logan says before I can object.

“My name’s Paige by the way, and if anyone asks we met at Halo Cafe,” she says as she leads us to the house.

“Did you just tell us your actual name?” Logan asks.

“I mean my name is right there,” she says as she points at the sign saying, “Paige’s 18th Birthday.”

I look over at Logan. Are we supposed to tell her our names too? Sounds like a trap.

As we walk into the patio with glass walls a tall man with the sharpest jaw I’ve ever seen greets us.

“Hey, Paige, who are these two?” he asks as he greets us. Holy crap, he’s beautiful. His red hoodie even has the word “lover” on it in cursive, how can I not fall for him? Especially since his voice is deep and smooth.

“Oh, these are my friends from Halo Cafe,” she says.

“I’m Roman,” he says as he shakes Logan’s hand.

Should I come up with a fake name?

“I’m Logan,” Logan says as Roman shakes my hand.

Guess not.

“And I’m Virgil.”

“It’s nice to meet you two,” he says with a huge smile. Why does his voice sound so familiar?

“Holy shit, you’re Princey,” I blurt out, and the three of them widen their eyes.

“Uhh, how would you know that? I always use a voice changer during interviews.

“You're... tall.”

“Do you accuse every tall person of being Princey?” He asked.

“Oh no,” Paige whines.

“How would you know that?” He repeats.

“He’s Misery Vails!” Paige blurts out.

“Dude!” I panic.

“And you haven’t arrested him yet?” He asks Paige.

“We’re not going to arrest them,” Paige says.

“Them? Is he,” Roman points at Logan, “a villain too?”

Logan nods his head while glaring at Patton.

“They’ve never killed anyone, and they’ve never shot anyone,” Paige says.

Roman scratches the back of his neck while glancing at the ground.

“Why can’t we befriend them? They’re a lot better than most villains, besides, they’ve been really nice to me,” Paige says.

Logan’s half-smiling, with a confused expression on his pale face.

Paige is either really optimistic or really pathetic.

Roman’s eyebrow twitches.

“Paige, can I talk to you?” He asks.

“Uh sure,” Paige looks over at Logan and me, “we’ll be one second. There are drinks over there.” She points at a couple of coolers in the corner. “Please don’t leave. That sounded a lot more desperate than I thought,” she gives a small chuckle.

Roman and Paige walk into the house.

“This place is really nice,” Logan says as he looks around the patio.

“Yeah, this patio is bigger than our entire apartment.”

Logan chuckles.

“Ain’t that the truth.”

We get sodas and drink almost the entire cans before Paige came back outside.

“Hey guys, sorry about that.”

“Where’s Roman?” Logan asks.

“He’s inside. Most people are inside,” Paige explains.

“What about the crowd of people outside?”

“They’re mainly neighbors that I didn’t invite.”

“You should probably call the police,” Logan says.

“Nah, it’s fine. Let’s go inside.” Paige guides us inside.

Her living room is huge, and I’ve never seen a staircase as big as her’s.

“Alright,” Paige chirps as she puts her hands onto her hips. “We already did cake and presents, so if you want some food or cake the kitchen is over there.” She points at the kitchen.

There’s a huge arch in the wall showing off the fancy kitchen.

I would kill for a house this nice.

Paige goes over to a group of people to chat, leaving Logan and me in the middle of the kitchen.

“We mine as well get some food,” Logan says before taking a plate.

We both get some food before sitting down on the bar stools at the counter. We make small talk until someone sits down next to me.

“Hey,” Roman says quietly.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Paige really trusts you two, so if you mess with her I will shot you again,” Roman warns.

“Someone doesn’t trust us.” Logan rolls his eyes.

“You two are literally villains- nay, supervillains!” Roman is the most dramatic person I’ve ever met, which is impressive considering I know Deceit and The Duke.

“You’re yelling about how we’re supervillains in a crowded house,” Logan reminds him.

He looks around to see a couple of people staring at us.

“Just kidding,” he awkwardly chuckles.

“How have you not been exposed yet?” I ask as I throw my head in my hands.

“Paige is the smart one out of us two,” Roman admits.

“I thought she was a hero for only two years and you’ve been a hero for six-”

“That’s not important,” Roman interrupts Logan.”You’ve been a hot minute since you’ve been in the public eye.”

“Yeah, I was a little bit busy with recovering from a gunshot wound.”

“Don’t rob banks then,” Roman says.

“We weren’t hurting anyone,” I snarl.

“Except for the economy and all of the people you’ve traumatized.” Roman rolls his eyes.

“You mean the economy that keeps rich people rich and poor people poor? Yeah, I’m not too worried about that. Also, those people wouldn’t have been traumatized if no one was shot.” Venom is seething through my words as I try to keep my cool.

“Wow, those are some mental gymnastics,” Roman says.

“Everyone does what they do for a reason. You may see us as the bad guys, but we see you as the bad guy, not us,” Logan explains.

“What? How can anyone believe that the villains are the good guys?”

“We have fans, just like you and Paige do,” I say as I take the last sip from my Pepsi can.

“That’s... actually kind of gross.”

My stomach is churning.

“Why don’t we make a deal,” Logan smirks.

“A deal with villains, that sounds like a trap,” Roman says.

“What do you have up your sleeve?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Logan rolls up his sleeve, “see, just my arms.”

“How are you this stupid?”

“I’m not-”

“What is the deal?” Roman interrupts our conversation.

“You and Paige refrain from harming us, and we’ll refrain from hurting you two,” Logan explains.

“Oh, and let you two off the hook?” Roman asks.

“That’s not what I said, just refrain from physically harming us.”

“Fine, I won’t shoot you again,” Roman scoffs.

“Good.”

Bzzzp Bzzzp

“What’s that?” Roman asks.

“Someone’s calling me,” I say as I grab my phone from my pocket.

“It’s De-,” Roman raises his eyebrows at me, “uhh, it’s the head villain.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Logan teases.

I answer the phone.

“Where are you?” Deceit asks.

“Hello to you too.”

“Where. Are. You?”

“Geez. I’m at a birthday party with Logan.”

“I don’t want to alarm you, but you’re in Moral Daisy’s house,” Deceit warns.

Previous, Next.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fic #fanfic #iwillphysicallyfiteyou

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redheadwriter86 · 6 years ago

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New Tech, New Things Coming.

That’s right!! I got a new laptop/tablet. It is a HP Pavilion x360 with the Bamboo Ink Stylus, and I am absolutely loving it!! No wonder Best Buy had to ship it in to my house. Apparently they are so hot on the market, they are just flying off the shelves. The ability to flip seamlessly from tablet to laptop is so useful and with the Bamboo Ink Stylus, I am so eager to write and sketch from anywhere. My biggest issue lately is having enough carrying capacity in my Kanken for my writing and my art supplies to be with me at all times whenever inspiration strikes. One additional accessories set I purchased for the tablet feature and Bamboo is a hard carrying case for the stylus and interchangeable tips, as well as a stylus glove. I had never heard of the glove before but I am glad I searched about the struggle with resting my hand on the screen, which then interrupts the computers ability to differentiate between the stylus and touch use. Obviously hovering my hand awkwardly over the screen whilst trying to work was going to be a major issue for me. Now I just need to get my new Samsung Galaxy S10+ whenever it releases.

A lot of my friends have asked why I haven’t converted to an Apple seeing as they are notorious for artistic types utilizing their technology, but the truth is I am really not much of an Apple product user, nor do I have the desire to be. It probably seems the most hipster to be an artist/writer and yet be uninterested in Apple products. Generally speaking, I feel like they are great computers etc, but kind of overrated. I can accomplish so much more on Windows/Samsung products as far as customization and user friendliness. The only downside to Windows/Samsung products that Apple does have locked down are the super cool trendy cases and accessories. I swear, I just want tech cases that have black and silver sparkles floating, or marble design. Something cooler than just an Otterbox (not that Otterbox is a bad product; they just lack the “cool” factor).

Another piece of tech I also am interested in is getting the Polaroid Zip Mobile Printer. I have my Polaroid Instax, but I would love to have some of the photos from my phone printed on Polaroid film. There is just something about the Polaroid aesthetic that many people, myself included, are just drawn to. It is simple and yet has stood the test of time. Even though the Cloud is an absolute requirement for saving everything, there is just something so nostalgic and sentimental about having that little pocket sized photo in hand.

And finally... Wattpad! I can’t believe I didn’t know how absolutely life altering this app would be! I am now addicted and hope that if/when I write something worth sharing, others may read and be interested in what goes on in my head. As would make sense, I am still RedheadWriter86 on there as well. It’s mind-blowing to me how many physical copies of novels, collected poems, etc that I have picked up in physical form at Barnes & Noble that originated as a Wattpad upload. It seems like a great way to get found as an author and then have the chance to really be a name in the writing world. I guess I am not ashamed to admit, I am terrified of uploading literally anything I write for the fear of no one being interested. I suppose, though, that it isn’t about anyone being interested; it’s the courage to put oneself out in the world for all to see, and that is damn inspiring. No great author ever became one had they not thrust themselves into the world ready to either be renowned or eaten alive by critics. I guess the first step would be to get something out of the mind and on paper (whether physical or electronic). That’s where I need to spend most of my time.

So, I leave this post and tune into the right brain to attempt to get one step closer to what I have always wanted to be using the tools I have acquired. Ciao!

#bambooink #hppavilionx360 #polaroid #windows #apple #wattpad #wattpadauthor #samsung #fjallraven #kanken #fjallravenkanken #artist #author #aspirations #closetartist #authorinhiding #writing #aesthetic

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elecdarkon · 3 years ago

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newsfact · 3 years ago

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Google Explains How to Fix Your Pixel 6 Fingerprint Reader – Review Geek

Google

As Pixel 6 orders slowly make their way to customers, reports of “faulty” or unresponsive fingerprint readers are becoming incredibly common. We offered three easy solutions to this problem shortly after the Pixel 6 launch, but now, Google is offering some official tips to get your Pixel 6 fingerprint sensor working.

Google’s Explains Why Its Fingerprint Sensor Is Wonky

We weren’t too surprised when people started complaining about the Pixel 6 fingerprint sensor. Yeah, most in-display fingerprint readers are pretty responsive, but they rarely have the speed and accuracy of dedicated fingerprint sensors or buttons. Plus, the optical sensor that Google uses can have trouble with screen protectors, dry fingers, and other minor obstacles.

We’re sorry for the hassle. The Pixel 6 fingerprint sensor utilizes enhanced security algorithms. In some instances, these added protections can take longer to verify or require more direct contact with the sensor. Try troubleshooting steps: https://t.co/uTbifE5Uyo. Thanks. ^Levi

— Made By Google (@madebygoogle) November 6, 2021

But “enhanced security algorithms” are actually the cause of Pixel 6 users’ fingerprint woes, according to Google. The company hasn’t explained how its “security algorithms” work, but it claims that the Pixel 6 may scan fingerprints slower than other phones.

The Solution: Firmly Press It

idea Ink Design/Shutterstock.com

If you’ve re-registered your fingerprints with the Pixel 6 and are still having trouble unlocking the device, Google suggests pressing your finger firmly against the optical sensor and holding it in place. It’s probably a simpler solution that you were hoping for, but hey, I guess you need to accommodate those slow “security algorithms.”

Notably, Google says that the Pixel 6 fingerprint sensor may have trouble in direct light. This makes sense, given that the optical sensor is basically just a camera that looks at your finger. If you’re having trouble using the Pixel 6 fingerprint reader in a bright environment (outdoors or near a window), try to press on it firmly until it unlocks.

I think that this solution sounds a bit funny, but it’s reasonable. I suggest pressing your thumb firmly against the Pixel 6 when you re-register your fingerprint, and for improved accuracy, registering the same fingerprint twice. (Keep in mind that you can only register 5 fingerprints at a time.)

Use Certified Screen Protectors

Justin Duino

When Review Geek staff had trouble with the Pixel 6 fingerprint sensor, removing our cheap screen protectors instantly solved the problem. It seems that some screen protectors just screw up the optical fingerprint sensor—and now, Google is suggesting some “certified” screen protectors to get things working properly.

Here are the screen protector brands suggested by Google:

Otterbox

Zagg

PanzerGlass

By the way, carriers often stick screen protectors on devices without telling customers. These screen protectors are usually pretty cheap—they’re not useless, but you know, they ain’t great. If you’re having trouble with the Pixel 6 fingerprint sensor, double check that you aren’t unknowingly using a cheap screen protector.

Other Official Tips

Google

Still having trouble? Google offers a few more solutions to your fingerprint reader woes. We’ll list these solutions in quick bulleted form, since they’re (maybe) not as useful as the steps listed above.

Moisturize: Optical fingerprint sensors don’t work great with dry fingers. As it gets cold out, you probably need to use a bit of moisturizer.

Always-On Display: You can unlock your phone a bit faster when always-on display is enabled. Go to Settings, open “Display,” go to “Lock Screen,” and toggle “Always Show Time and Info.” (You can also use “Tap to Check Phone” or “Lift to Check Phone.”)

Update Your Phone: Update to the latest version of Android, which may contain software improvements for the fingerprint sensor.

If you’re still having trouble with your Pixel 6 fingerprint sensor after following all of these steps, open the Google Support page, scroll down, and click the “Contact Us” button.

Source: Google

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jadorehale · 7 years ago

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just dudes being bros

I found this deeeeep within my computer folders. I remember writing it in 2016 while the anime was airing and then not liking it but I just did a quick read and ehh it's not the worst thing I've ever written {ao3}

Figure Skating News: Five-time world champion coach, Victor Nikiforov, and protégée, Katsuki Yuuri, share friendly congratulations peck at Cup of China.

The Daily Mail: 7 Things You Need to Know About Victor Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki’s Gold Medal Friendship!

People Magazine: Spotted: Victor Nikiforov & Yuuri Katsuki snuggling closely on ‘bros date’ at Barcelona’s most romantic restaurant!

ESPN: Yuuri Katsuki chimes in on why relationship with world-famous coach, Victor Nikiforov, has been a success! “Victor and I make love multiple times a day,” the figure skater says. These two seem to be the best of friends!

❄

“How come it doesn’t bother you that the international media is still portraying our relationship as platonic? Do you even care?”

“No. Not really.”

“But they’re refusing to take our relationship seriously!”

“So?”

“And all those weird pictures they print of us making out, they keep calling them ‘friendly embraces.’”

“Well, our mouths are great friends at this point.”

“Victor!” Yuuri whined with a pout.

“Yuuuuuri!” Victor sang back, grinning.

While it was true that Yuuri was most adorable when he was angry and riled up, Victor sure wished that Yuuri would put all that fire into preparing for his competition instead of looking up pointless crap to get upset about on his phone. Today was the day of Grand Prix Final free skate and no one knew more than Victor how badly Yuuri wanted that gold medal. As his coach, Victor’s sole focus was on making sure Yuuri’s body was one-hundred percent ready for his program. Which was why he really needed Yuuri to focus on stretching and warming up.

However, as a boyfriend, it really irritated Victor to see Yuuri concerning himself with the silly tabloids that were being written about them. Victor had no idea what Yuuri wanted him to say about the issue or if he was just seeking out validation for his indignation. In truth, Victor didn’t give a crap. If you’d asked him a year ago if he’d ever imagined him and Yuuri becoming an item, he would’ve said no. He’d never dreamed he could be so lucky to be in a relationship with Yuuri, who he’d been head over heels for since the night they first met. So, it was quite difficult for him to care about any negative things people had to say.

“But aren’t you the one who loves attention?” Yuuri stressed. “If the press caught wind of how it really is between the two of us, it would be a media frenzy!”

“Well, short of Phichit Chulanont, the paparazzi are the second best photographers in the world.”

He grabbed the phone from Yuuri’s hand and scrolled through the article until he stopped on a photo of the two of them leaving their hotel, fingers laced together as they shielded their eyes from the sea of flashing cameras.

He held the photo out to Yuuri and said, “Look, how cute! We should have it framed!”

Since he was about to skate, Yuuri didn’t have his glasses on and had to squint to view the photo clearly. When he finally did see the shot that Victor had been raving about, his face fell and he sent Victor a flat look. “Victor, you’re the only one that looks good in this picture.”

“Exactly!” Victor beamed. Someone should’ve told Yuuri that he had a big, fat booger hanging from his nose and spinach in his teeth before he’d been photographed. That person probably should’ve been Victor. But Victor always managed to look like a model in candids, flashing the crowd his signature wink as he casually flipped his hair. “Who knew there’d be such talent in a group of professional camera-holding stalkers.”

Along with his now ritualistic pre-game cry and cuddle session, Yuuri had developed an unhealthy habit of googling nasty things being said about him on the internet to get revved up. For anyone else, this action would seem conceited and egotistical. But for Yuuri, seeing how much people hated him and were attacking him for stealing Victor from the sport online made him even more determined to succeed and show the world that only he could satisfy Victor. It was ridiculous, and absurd, and Victor would be putting an end to it once the Grand Prix Finals were over. However, he wasn’t about to halt anything that could potentially help Yuuri in his fight for gold. But, Yuuri had read enough offensive, anonymous, cyber-bullying comments for one day.

Victor tossed the phone over his shoulder without bothering to see where it landed and ignored Yuuri’s outraged cries. He got a firm grip of Yuuri’s knees and drew them down toward his chest, stretching out his hamstrings.

“My phone screen had better not be cracked!”

“Uspokoit'sya! Don’t worry. You have an Otterbox case. They’re indestructible.” Victor glanced back and saw that a crowd of people were now trampling over the phone, kicking it along as they went but felt no dire urge to chase after it. “No more news headlines,” he told Yuuri sternly. “We need you in the zone for your free skate. Now, give me fifty sit-ups.”

Groaning loudly, Yuuri did as he was told, exercising his abdominal muscles as Victor anchored his feet. It was amazing how far Yuuri had come under his tutelage. Not that Yuuri needed Victor in the first place. He had more than enough potential and talent to do this all on his own. For Victor, it was an honor to watch Yuuri flourish into such an impressive skater. This was the most fun Victor had ever had in his career. Far more enthralling than his own successes. He lived to surprise the masses, and if there was anyone that could shock the world with such a strong comeback after placing dead last the previous year, it was Katsuki Yuuri.

“Twenty more, little piggy,” Victor instructed, proud when Yuuri continued without complaining.

On his last one, he leaned forward and crashed his lips against Victor’s which was a very welcomed surprised. Victor hummed when the kiss turned bold, parting his lips as Yuuri’s tongue licked obscenely into his mouth. Positive reinforcement was important to Victor as a coach and Yuuri deserved a reward for his good behavior.

He’d almost forgotten they were in public until he heard, “Look mommy! Those boys are in love!”

Pulling away, Victor turned and saw a little girl gawking at them with wide eyes and pointing a chubby little finger in their direction. She couldn’t have been more than four-years-old and was so darn cute that Victor was seriously contemplating kidnapping her. She tugged on her mom’s skirt, demanding her attention, and pointed again for her mother to see when Victor closed the distance and placed a soft kiss on Yuuri’s cheek.

“Honey! Haven’t I told you it’s so rude to point!” Her mother quickly swatted her hand down, blushing from severe embarrassment as she began to explain, “They’re not in love. It’s just a good luck kiss between coach and skater. It happens all the time. No way notorious playboy Victor Nikiforov is off the market.”

Victor didn’t need to see Yuuri’s face to know that his expression had darkened. He already knew Yuuri wouldn’t take kindly to that sort of remark and that he’d be furious. The media was always spreading falsehoods. Victor was not a notorious playboy. He was very much the monogamous sort.

The woman looked over at them, cheeks a bright red as she waved. “We’re rooting for you, Katsuki Yuuri! Longtime fan, Mr. Nikiforov. Can I just say that you’re so much sexier in person! Hope to see you back next season!”

She fluttered her lashes seductively and blew him a kiss before flouncing off with her daughter, not at all aware of the damage she’d just wrought. The little girl was still wide-eyed as she was dragged away. It seemed like she hadn’t believed a word her mother had said. Smart girl. Her young curiosity made him smile, reminding him of how he once was as a child. All those long, long, long, long years ago...

With a deep sigh, he turned back to Yuuri, already flinching as he caught the hard set of Yuuri’s jaw and the burning rage behind his eyes. He failed to hide his amused smirk and earned himself an impressive lethal glare.

“Jealous?” he asked.

“You know damn well I am!” Yuuri scowled and hopped up onto his feet.

He turned his back to Victor and continued warming up, running back and forth. His shoulders were tense as he jogged and he was muttering to himself bitterly. Victor moved closer to listen, trying to decipher just what was being said.

“So, it’s not just news reporters, then,” Yuuri was grumbling to himself. “It’s the general public as well. Is it that hard for people to believe that Victor and I are in love? That Victor would want to be in a relationship with me? I need to remember that the outside world only gets to see his good looks and it is I who gets to see the true beauty of his heart. It’s his love shining through that has helped me improve the most. We have something special and amazing and if people can’t see our love then I’ll just have to make them feel it by winning the gold medal!”

“Awwwwwww!!” Victor gushed. Yuuri was seriously the cutest. He just had to hop on top of him and squeeze and hug him tight. “What an adorable internal monologue. Tell me, is this how you always talk in your head?”

“Get. Off. Me!” Yuuri picked himself up from the floor and brushed himself off.

Victor frowned, pressing a lip to his finger as he tried to figure out how to get back into Yuuri’s good graces. No one would think from just looking at him that Yuuri was such a high-maintenance partner. A part of him loved that Yuuri was a huge drama queen, quick to get jealous over Victor and feel the need to stake his claim. But another part of him couldn’t stand the thought of Yuuri being upset or insecure.

The petulant glower on Yuuri’s face didn’t look like it would be going away anytime soon, which wasn’t ideal in this specific circumstance. The judges definitely wouldn’t find it as cute as Victor did. He was preparing to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness when Yuuri grabbed him by his very expensive tie and yanked him down to his level.

For a moment, Victor thought Yuuri had only pulled him this close so he could clobber him, but like always, Yuuri took the unexpected route. Which naturally made it impossible for Victor to predict what he was thinking as he began sucking a large bruise on the side of Victor’s neck.

Just as abruptly as Yuuri had grabbed him and reeled him in, he curtly let him go. His face flushed as he avoided Victor’s eyes and stammered, “T—There. That way no one else will be throwing themselves at you. They’ll know you’re mine.”

Victor couldn’t help being extremely delighted by this display and his brain quickly devised a plan. “Hmm, I really don’t think just one will do…You should put one over here too.”

Feigning innocence, he pointed at another spot on his neck, arching so Yuuri could mark there.

“How about here! And here! Oh, there’s good too! Also, here! Da, there too

“Jesus Christ, Victor!” A voice cried. A voice whose owner was just so happened to be flamboyantly Swiss.

“What’s happened to your neck?! Don’t tell me this is some kind of career-ending injury,” Chris gasped. “I don’t think I can make it through another competition season without you.”

“They’re love bites!” Victor presented proudly, showing off the fresh marks littered across his skin. “From my Yuuri.”

He noticed Yuuri trying to slink away and flee the scene of the crime. But before he could go far, Victor locked an arm around his waist and hauled him back to his side. That way Yuuri would have to own up to his work. What he’d done to Victor’s neck was nothing short of a masterpiece. He’d truly left his signature.

Victor turned back to Chris, elaborating, “See, my Yuuri’s very upset that the media isn’t taking our romance seriously.”

“Ah, yes! I’m afraid they’ve done the same thing with my bisexual Bernese Mountain dog, Hans,” Chris commiserated, pulling out his phone and showing them an article on his pooch written by The Inquisitor. “Completely erased his sexuality to fit into some toxic heteronormative box. I showed him a picture of Maccachin and he was absolutely smitten! We should get them together and see if they hit it off. That way, we can be…”

“IN-LAWS!!” Victor shrieked at the same time Chris did.

They squealed excitedly, jumping up and down as they chattered away about wedding plans. They discussed where Hans and Maccachin would vacation on their honeymoon. Victor had heard Fiji was lovely this time of year and Maccachin, the groom-to-be just adored laying out on the beach. He was a real beach bum with expensive tastes and only enjoyed the finest cuisines. He was a lot like his owner in that way.

In the midst of his conversation with Chris, Victor noticed Yuuri from the corner of his eye, slumping and staring down at the floor.

“Oh, Yuuri, don’t think too much into the media thing,” Chris said, reaching out and pinching Yuuri’s left butt cheek. A trick that was very effective in removing that sad, dejected expression from Yuuri’s face, replacing it with scandalized one. “News reporters can be so oblivious sometimes. Only seeing what they want to see. Every skater here knows how in love the two of you are. You’ve got tons of teenage girls on social media ‘shipping’ you. They’ve named you…Victuuri!”

“Victuuri? Eh!! Why does Victor’s name get to go first?!”

“Because I’m the one that fell in love first!”

“Please, not that again,” Yuuri sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t start that argument here before I have to skate. I already told you, I’m sorry I didn’t remember that night!”

“You completely wounded my pride!” Victor harrumphed. “I can’t believe you don’t remember our dancing!”

Chris snickered then declared, “Maybe it’s good that the media doesn’t take you guys seriously. The world already hates you for hogging Victor as your coach. Men and women everywhere will hate you even more if they find out you’ve stolen his heart as well. You’re a very selfish man, Katsuki Yuuri. Adieu!”

With one last ‘good luck’ pinch to Yuuri’s exquisite rump, Chris sauntered off, rejoining his coach and the rest of his entourage. Which left Victor and Yuuri to return to stringently readying Yuuri to take the ice. Sure, it might seem like they were going a little overboard but they were both aware of how important it was for Yuuri to nail every jump in his routine and execute his presentation perfectly.

On the outside, Victor exuded nothing but positive energy and optimism, but on the inside, he was a nervous wreck. He worried that Yakov might be right. That he wouldn’t be able to pull off this massive victory his first time as a coach. It would kill him if, for some unfortunate reason, they missed the podium. Victor didn’t want to lose the opportunity to pair skate with Yuuri at his gala exhibition. And poor Yuuri; what would become of his spirit if he failed? Obviously, Victor wasn’t going to let that happen, but what if it did. He refused to let Yuuri take any of the blame. He’d take full responsibility as his coach.

Victor watched Yuuri silently lacing up his skates, not liking how solemn and morose he was so close to his free skate. It was often difficult for Victor to get into Yuuri’s head and figure out what was going on with him. Which was a telling sign that he was a terrible coach. After all, this was it! Potentially Yuuri’s last performance before he retired from figure-skating. Though, if Victor had his way, Yuuri would never retire. Still, it made sense that Yuuri would be in such a mood being on the brink of making history.

“Have I really stolen your heart?”

Victor’s head snapped up sharply. “…What does that mean?”

One day in the future, Victor hoped Yuuri would stop asking him such provoking questions. Even though they both spoke fluent English—their best common language—Victor planned on purchasing Rosetta Stone. That way he could learn Japanese and finally understand Yuuri. It was evident that he wasn’t speaking English well enough. Not with the way Yuuri was constantly doubting his love.

Yuuri’s voice was barely a whisper as he fiddled with his thumbs, not looking up. “I mean, will I get to keep it forever?”

“Of course.”

Victor wasn’t remotely surprised when Yuuri huffed and rolled his eyes. “How do you know?”

Victor shrugged. “I just do.”

“But how?!”

Exasperated, Victor placed a hand on his hip. “What’s gotten into you? Why the sudden mood swing? Is it the news outlets? Because them not acknowledging that we’re together doesn’t mean anything. Listen to me and not them! I refuse to live without you. I won’t stand for it.”

“But what if after I retire, I let myself go and gain a ton of weight? Or what if we lose our romantic spark and you get bored of me? There’s nothing exciting to keep you here. What if in a couple of years, you wake up and realize this was a huge mistake? I’m a terrible nag and at the same time a giant hypocrite. I’m messy and horrible at cleaning up after myself. What if all we do is fight and bicker and you start to hate me? I majorly lack self-confidence. What if that starts to annoy you too? Me always doubting myself can be a hassle. Hell, I’m doubting myself right now!”

Victor opened and closed his mouth a few times, gaping like a fish. Yuuri had some nerve trying to convince him to stop loving him. He stepped forward and leaned his forehead against Yuuri’s, cupping his cheek. “I think you already know nothing you come up with will change how I feel about you. Am I right?”

“But—” Yuuri protested.

“Nothing,” Victor repeated firmly.

Yuuri peered into his eyes for a moment longer, eventually giving up and sagging his shoulders. “I believe you.”

Yuuri inched closer, his long lashes fluttering closed as he went to give Victor a kiss. But before their lips could meet, Victor stopped and asked, “What about me?”

“Hmm?” Yuuri blinked multiple times when he opened his eyes.

“Will you always love me?”

“Of course!” Yuuri snorted, waving it off as an unserious question then tried to kiss Victor again.

Victor evaded his lips. “Even when all my hair turns gray?”

“Er…um…” Yuuri squirmed uncomfortably, distress in his eyes as he fumbled for the right words. “How— How do I say this? All your hair is already…um…gray...er…silver…?”

“What?!?” Victor cried, his mouth falling open as he reached up and tentatively touched his hair like he was noticing this for the first time. He kept the act up for a couple of seconds before throwing his head back and laughed at how scared Yuuri looked, then dodged a punch to the arm when Yuuri realized he was being insincere.

“I’m just kidding,” Victor snickered, “And my hair is platinum, not gray. But on the subject of getting older, my mother’s side is prone to male pattern baldness. What if the thin spot on the top of my head gets bigger and all my hair falls out? Or what if I don’t age as well as I’m expected to and forget to use under eye cream at night and develop crow’s feet? What if I have to get Botox, or worse, a full facial reconstruction! Will you love me with a new face? What about my fashion sense? What if I lose that too and start walking around in mix-matched patterns and socks with sandals? Will you still love me if I walked around in socks and sandals? What if, Yuuri!!”

“Wow,” Yuuri commented as Victor panted, needing a minute to catch his breath after his rant. “All your concerns are very superficial.”

“Comfort me, Yuuri!” Victor wailed and threw himself into Yuuri’s arms, sighing contently as they immediately wrapped him up securely. Victor buried his face into the side of Yuuri’s neck, feeling at home with the first inhale of Yuuri’s fruity cologne. Never had he felt so safe from the dangers that were inevitable aging.

Yuuri chuckled, pressing a light kiss to Victor’s temple and whispered, “You’ve changed my whole life, Victor. Of course, I’ll be here till the end with you.”

“D’awwwwwww!”

A chorus of cooing echoed from all around them. Victor and Yuuri both jumped at the racket and discovered that not only was everybody leering at them, they were also shamelessly eavesdropping.

“Our wedding vows are going to be so much better than theirs, right babe?” JJ boasted, slinging an arm over his fiancé’s shoulder.

With the exception of JJ and an absent Yurio, the rest of the crowd was in tears. In fact, if Victor hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought this was a funeral. A box of tissues was being passed around as people sobbed and blubbered, some even crying their mascara off. Most notably amongst the mourners was Otabek Altin. He was the last person Victor would’ve expected to be moved by such an overt demonstration of eternal love. Mainly, because he was Yurio’s new friend and to apply for the job, one must already have their cold dead heart locked in a steel volt in the Himalayas and be committed to hating everything.

Naturally, JJ saw this as an opportunity to plug his new project. “The ghostwriter who wrote my book, Ice Jewel—which comes out January 20th, so stop by your nearest Chapters to pick up a copy or pre-order online—will come up with something a lot less cliché and contrived. Right babe?”

“Shh!!” His fiancé slapped a hand over his mouth, “That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed. I want to die!”

Victor quickly stepped back from Yuuri and tried to laugh the moment off but was sweating too profusely to be convincing. Yuuri’s face was getting redder by the second and looked like it was about to combust. This was not how they wanted their competitors to see them. They were supposed to be exhibiting that they were at the top of their game, ready to take the world by storm and crush everything in sight. Or at least that’s what Yakov had always taught him to do.

“It’s almost time for you to skate, little piggy. So, get back to work,” Victor decreed. “This is a direct order from your coach. Not your handsome doting lover who spoils you rotten. I won’t have any slackers!”

Who was he kidding? He never acted like a real coach before, so why start now?

Yuuri grimaced. “It’s so embarrassing when you say that word.”

“What word?” Victor asked then scoffed, “Lover? How else would you like me to describe it? No wonder the media doesn’t think we’re together. This world is way too sexually repressed!”

"Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri said, no longer paying him any mind. “Now, just where did you throw my phone?”

So maybe it was a little mean of Victor to let Yuuri search for his phone all on his own knowing that Yuuri wasn’t wearing his glasses. But it was just so funny watching Yuuri bumbling around, eyes scrunched up as they uselessly inspected the floor. Eventually, Yuuri located the phone after two failed attempts, picking up a discarded coke can and an empty water bottle at first. It was impressive that even though the phone had traveled long and far there wasn’t a single ounce of damage, thanks to the case. Victor should totally see if he could get Yuuri an Otterbox sponsorship. After all, sex sells and he knew Yuuri would be able to sell a ton of phone cases with an evocative television ad.

A wild idea suddenly sparked in his mind. One he knew Yuuri definitely wasn’t going to like. Still, this idea had Victor pulling out his own phone and opening his camera app. He snapped a picture with a flash just as Yuuri was bending down to pick something up.

“Eh?! Victor” Yuuri swiveled around and rushed back over to him. “W-What are you doing?!”

“Posting a picture of your juicy bottom on my Instagram.”

“Why?!”

“Because I’d like the world to see how nice and juicy it is.”

“Victor!” Yuuri whined and made a grab for the phone.

“Yuuuuuri!” Victor sang back and kept it out of reach. “Look, I’ve written a risqué caption full of Eros! Maybe the media will see this picture and a news story will break about our insatiable lust for one another?”

“Give it to me right now!” Yuuri grounded out through his teeth and held out his hand.

Thinking it wasn’t worth the spat, Victor handed it over. He expected Yuuri to take the phone and delete the picture immediately, but instead, Yuuri’s fingers began tapping quickly on the screen as his face burned up.

He thrusted the phone back into Victor’s hand and averted his eyes. Victor glanced at it and saw that not only had Yuuri posted the picture, he’d written an even sexier caption that almost blew Victor off his feet and made his nose bleed.

“It’s such a shame that no one would believe me if I told them how you lord over me in bed.” Victor shook his head in amazement. “Bossy, confident, sex torturer, Katsuki Yuuri? Not with how innocent you act in public. No one will believe how mean to me you really are.”

A glint flashed in Yuuri’s eyes as his gaze trailed him up and down. “Oh, you have it so wrong. I think I’m very, very nice to you in bed. Especially when I—”

Once again, it felt like the whole world was listening in, and sure enough, when they looked up they saw everyone staring like they were tuning into a television show. They were rather shameless about it too. Didn’t even have the decency to look remorseful or pretend like they hadn’t been invading people’s very private moments.

It was lucky that they’d caught themselves before they got any more explicit. With Yurio present in the audience, things had to be kept PG-13. He was looking between them now with his big, innocent blue eyes, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“When you what?” he asked Yuuri who was turning very, very red. “Eat pork cutlet bowls?”

Everyone around them who knew better nodded in affirmative, but JJ, of course, had never really been too bright. “I think he meant—”

Thankfully, his fiancée was there to jab an elbow into his gut and cut him off before he could go into detail. Realizing his mistake, he nodded his head along with everyone else and that seemed to satisfy Yurio who just shrugged and walked away with Otabek.

When he was gone, Yuuri groaned and thumped his head against Victor’s chest, his face still hot with shame. “That was unbelievably embarrassing,” he said. “Let’s focus on the competition now and the celebration later. And let’s stop giving these vultures something to eavesdrop on.”

“Da,” Victor chuckled as Yuuri glared at all in their vicinity.

It was time anyway for Yuuri’s skate. They were as prepared as they could be and now was Yuuri’s chance to show his stuff. He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek and lead him towards the rink. Yuuri’s grip on his hand was like a vice. He was obviously nervous. Victor knew by now that nothing he said could make Yuuri lose those nerves, but he hoped Yuuri would be strong and wouldn’t let them overtake him.

“Even if I don’t win—” Yuuri started, but Victor wasn’t going to let him go any farther with that statement.

“You will win.”

“No, just let me finish.” Yuuri laughed, shaking his head. “Even if I don’t win, thank you for always taking care of me.”

Victor melted into a smile and opened his arms to wrap Yuuri up in a tight hug. He held on for as many squeezes as he could before Yuuri was asked to take the ice then clasped his hand with Yuuri’s and kissed his ring, wishing him luck.

“Well, go on. Show them how much I love you,” Victor said and Yuuri nodded with determination.

He knew something amazing was going to happen today. He just knew. Whether it be Yuuri winning the gold or breaking a world record or even… saying yes to spending the rest of his life with Victor, it was going to be a historical day.

Victor fiddled with the secret velvet box hidden deep within his pocket. His heart thundered in his chest as the music began to play; the happiness and pride overwhelming as he watched Yuuri wield his magic over the crowd.

❄

Morooka: Welcome back, everyone. We just witnessed a beautiful performance by Katsuki Yuuri. One that is bound to make him a top contender in today’s competition and displayed an excellent comeback after his loss last season.

Stéphane: Yes, it was simply magnifique! A perfect performance that shows the true power between this first-time coach and skater duo.

Morooka: Let’s flash over to the kiss and cry to see their scores.

Stéphane: Katsuki Yuuri looks nervous. I don’t know why. No one can doubt that that performance will score high.

Morooka: And he’s broken the world record! In case you’re just tuning in, Katsuki Yuuri has just scored a 221.58 today with his free program. The audience is just going wild.

Stéphane: And what’s this! Victor Nikiforov just got down on one knee and presented Katsuki Yuuri with a ring. What a wonderful congratulations gift from a coach to his skater.

Morooka: I think that’s why their dynamic works so well, Stéphane. Victor is such a caring and rewarding coach.

Stéphane: Let’s see if we can hear what’s going on down there. Ha! It sounds like funny guy Victor there just asked Katsuki Yuuri to marry him and Katsuki Yuuri said yes. There were rumors that Yuuri might be retiring but maybe after this symbol of sheer commitment Victor has displayed today, he might reconsider coming back for another season.

Morooka: As you know, these two have exchanged partnership rings in the past. They have a very close professional relationship. You can tell by how they’re kissing now on the lips.

Stéphane: Yes, such a friendly embrace! I see Victor’s getting a little cheeky there slipping in some tongue.

Morooka: We’ve got some reactions here from twitter. One user says ‘They’re gay, you dumbasses.’ Another says, ‘I can’t wait for Victor and Yuuri’s wedding. You can tell that they’re super in love with each other.’ What do you make of that Stéphane?

Stéphane: Impossible! I see no signs of romance here! Look at how they’re rolling on the floor kissing now. It’s nothing but a coach and skater being excited about a fantastic score.

Morooka: I agree with you, of course, Stéphane. Victor’s done such a great job coaching for the first time. These twitter fans must be seeing something that isn’t there.

Stéphane: Absolument! There’s no way notorious playboy Victor Nikiforov would ever be taken off the market.”

Morooka: You’re right, of course. No way indeed.

#victuuri #victuuri fic #yoi fanfic #viktor nikiforov #yoi #yuuri katsuki #mine: yoi fic #humor fluff

55 notes · View notes

justsomebucky · 7 years ago

Text

The Friendly Wager (Part 6)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,608 (went really overboard)

Warnings: language, lots of bad language, fluff, sarcasm, drinking, implied drunkenness, angst, regret, hangover, confrontation, stupid feelings are stupid yeah?

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?”

Second to last part! Tags are closed. I loved all your messages so much!

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

The next morning, you awoke with a ridiculous pounding headache. Your mouth tasted funny and dry, and you knew you were still in your outfit from the night before. That also meant that last night’s makeup was probably smeared across your face and pillow.

Thank goodness it was Saturday. At least that would give you time to get over the hangover from hell. You groaned at the memory of what caused you to get so inebriated in the first place.

You win.

After seeing Bucky’s text, you didn’t reply to him. Instead, you conned Peter into taking you for some drinks.

His bar of choice? Red Room, another exclusive spot downtown.

Expensive alcohol (paid for by Peter) flowed for the rest of the night, as did Peter’s mundane chatter. The only reprieve you had was when you passed out in the taxi home.

You sat up gingerly, squinting at the clock on your bedside table as you wiped some drool off the corner of your mouth. Your phone was halfway across the room on the floor, as if you’d thrown it in a fit of rage.

Wait a minute…

Yeah, you definitely had thrown it in a fit of rage from the looks of it. Or, a fit of some emotion…the details were sort of cloudy at the moment.

You stepped out of bed, moving slowly over to the discarded device, but as soon as you picked it up (and it wasn’t broken, thank you OtterBox!) you saw the battery must have died.

The charger was back over near your bed, so you plugged it in and waited for the screen to light up.

When it finally came back to life, you cringed again. The number of missed calls and unread texts was higher than you’d ever seen in your life. Fourteen missed calls, all from last night. You clicked those first.

Three calls were from Peter (that made you chuckle, since you probably wandered away from him for some peace and quiet).

Eight were from Wanda. Why the hell had Wanda tried to call you that many times?

One missed call from…Natasha?

Oh god!

Your eyes widened as you remembered something else from last night. Natasha had been there with a couple of her friends.

You’d drunkenly gone up to her and offered her Bucky’s number in person, telling her nearly every sinful thing he’d ever said about her and how much he wanted to date her. Why had she called though? Maybe to make sure you had her number?

You smacked your forehead at the hazy memory, wincing as it added on to your hangover headache pain.

What the hell was the matter with you?

With another low groan, you looked at the last two missed calls of the night.

Both were from Bucky.

Oh geez. He probably called to confirm that he slept with Rosie, or to thank you for giving Natasha his number. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck…

You moved on to the dozens of unread text messages.

Most of them were from Peter, asking where you were, asking if you were ready to go home. The last couple from him were interesting.

Bucky texted me to say if I didn’t get you home soon he was gonna kick my ass.

Can you please meet me near the door so we can head out? I have a cab waiting.

There were texts from Natasha that you found just a little disturbing.

Thank you again! Sorry I missed your call. I tried to call back but no answer!

I’m going to ask him out tomorrow! Can’t wait! - Nat

Wanda seemed to have gotten the bulk of the text messages, replying to what started as you complaining about your date, to you sending her strings of gibberish with a lot of sad emojis.

I can’t understand what you’re writing, Y/N. I think you should get home.

Should I text Bucky to come get you?

Do you need me and Vis to come pick you up?

Finally, the last few were from the man himself.

Y/N, please get in the cab with Peter.

You’re not making any sense.

I’m getting worried. Just come home!

Ugh, you really mucked things up this time, didn’t you? A quick scan of your messages told you by the time you started texting Bucky, you were too far gone to type properly. At least you didn’t confess anything, like how you’d kept Nat from him for that long.

How humiliating…

You never ever drank this much, knowing that it always led you to make poor decisions.

At least Peter Quill wasn’t in your bed. That was a plus-one for your night, for sure. Thankfully, you were always good about going to bed alone. Stranger danger (or in this case nearly-a-stranger danger) was a real thing, and you weren’t having it.

With another groan, you found Wanda’s name in your contact list and pressed call, putting her on speaker.

After a few rings, she finally picked up. “Y/N? You’re alive then?”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, eyes filling with tears involuntarily. “I’m so sorry, Wan. I made a fool of myself last night.”

“You were just hurting, friend. It’s fine. You didn’t really like Peter anyway, from what you were saying when you could still type properly.”

“I know, but it’s not even just that. I’ll probably have to apologize to him later, but Wanda, I saw Natasha when I was out last night.”

“Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. “What did you say to her? Please don’t tell me you said anything about Bucky!“

“I told her Bucky lusted after her, then gave her his number,” you admitted, closing your eyes to try to stave off the stinging tears. “She texted me last night and said she was going to ask him out today.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Huh?

“Don’t be. He’s wanted her for a while now, I just didn’t have the guts to lose my best friend to her.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

“Are you still there, Wan?”

“I’m still here, but I’m wondering why you’re a total moron.”

You opened your eyes, glaring at the nearest object, which just so happened to be your lamp. “Excuse me?”

“All you did last night, Y/N, was text about Bucky. Did he sleep with Rosie? Do you think he slept with Rosie? Do you think he’s in love with Rosie? What about Natasha? Did he still want Nat? Doesn’t he care about me at all?”

The only thing you could do was groan again, feeling utterly stupid.

“Don’t you see, you absolute moron? You’re in love with Bucky. I had my suspicions all along, but now this kind of solidifies it, don’t you think? That’s why you didn’t want to give Nat his number, and that’s why you don’t want to lose him.”

“Have you picked up the drinking where I left off, Wan? You’re so far off from the truth, it’s not even funny.”

“Am I? Then explain these texts: Wanda he doesn’t care about me. Bucky hates me. He’ll forget all about me. I can’t lose him, Wan! Not one message said anything like that about Peter. Not one, Y/N. You really love Bucky, and you’re scared because you finally realized it.”

That was like a kick in the gut. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? I think you need to take some time and think about what…or who…you really want, Y/N. Before it’s too late, preferably.”

“Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?” you whispered into the phone, feeling like your heart was cracking. “I need someone to be with me today. I know if I’m alone, I’ll sit and mope all day.”

“I won’t let you be alone,” she promised.

---

We’re going out tonight! Just wanted to say thank you again! –Nat

You stared at the screen, wondering if your brain was still so muddled from your hangover that you were no longer capable of reading correctly. Surely, this newly received text didn’t say that they were already going on a date, one day after the whole debacle of the wager went down?

Boy, he didn’t waste any time, did he?

There was still no word from your supposed best friend after last night. There was no way you were gonna text him first, not after remembering what went down, and everything you may have said.

He was probably a little bit mad about the Natasha thing, but couldn’t he get over it? He told practically everyone how he felt about her. Steve and Sam knew…even Vis and Wanda knew!

He was finally seeing her tonight, and all would be well with them. Why did he have to hold it against you? What a baby.

Anyways.

You got out of bed, and the first thing you did with what little energy you could muster was grab a blanket and move to lay on the couch.

Wanda promised she wouldn’t let you spend the day alone thinking about your humiliation, but she still hadn’t arrived yet. You hoped against hope she was stopping for coffee and bagels or something. You could really use some strong caffeine right about now.

You pulled the blanket over you with a sigh, and flipped through the channels until you came across a movie that looked familiar. ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ Just what you didn’t need to see.

“Oh, screw you. Guys and girls can be just friends,” you yelled at the TV, throwing your tissue box at the screen. You clicked through some more channels.

It was like the world was laughing at you.

My Best Friend’s Wedding was on, too.

Another farce.

The best friend is about to marry this beautiful woman that you can’t help but like, while Julia Roberts tries desperately to sabotage the wedding because she realizes (or maybe just thinks) she’s in love with him. That was so stupid. Who lets it get that far? If she loved the guy, she should probably just go ahead and tell him.

When Bucky and Natasha eventually got married, you weren’t going to run up and make out with him to try to stop him. You wanted him to be happy, even if-

Your eyes widened, no longer seeing the movie on the screen, but picturing Bucky standing at the altar with Natasha, looking happier than ever.

You’d been about to say ‘even if it wasn’t with you.’

What.

The actual.

Fuck?????

Your hands got all clammy again as you thought it through. What the hell kind of thought was that? You pushed the blanket off your legs and stood up, pacing back and forth anxiously.

Was Wanda right?

Were Harry and that stupid Sally right, too?

Were you…in love…with Bucky?

Your heart started racing as you heard a knock on the door. When you swung it open, Wanda stood there, coffee and bagels in hand as you’d hoped for.

“Y/N, it’s been so long,” she answered dryly. “I promised I would be here, so here I am.”

“Wanda, get in here!”

You shoved your friend inside the apartment while she tried to balance the coffee without spilling.

“What the hell, Y/N? Careful!”

The door slammed shut behind you, and you turned to her with anxious eyes.

“Am I really in love with Bucky?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your voice down just in case he was across the hall.

Not that someone could hear you when they weren’t home, but in bed with another woman…ugh…

“Wanda?” you repeated, feeling like you might be sick. “Am I?”

“What?” She laughed, moving inside and heading for the kitchen counter. “Why are you asking me? I already told you how I felt about it, how I think you feel. Shouldn’t you be asking yourself if you’re in love with Bucky or not?”

“I don’t know! I’m so confused right now, and I just don’t know,” you rambled, following behind her, your hands wringing together. “He’s my best friend. People can be just friends, Wanda!”

“Calm down, Y/N. Let’s think this through, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching for a coffee and taking a sip. “Okay, yes, coffee is good, thinking is good. Thinking is my best skill.”

“Over-thinking, maybe.”

“That’s not helping!”

“All right, all right!” Wanda held her hands up in surrender. “When you picture yourself with someone, settling down with them forever, who is it? Who do you see beside you?”

“I can’t ever picture it,” you admitted, setting the drink down. “I’m not that kind of person. I mean, I try, but I just…fairy tales are for children, you know?”

Wanda leaned against the counter, nodding. “Okay, we’ll come back to that. When you picture Bucky settling down with someone forever, who is it?”

You frowned at your friend. “Honestly, my first thought is Natasha.”

Her eyes widened a little. “And how does that make you feel?”

“You sound like a TV therapist right now.”

“Do you want my help or not?” she huffed, rolling her eyes and sipping from her own coffee.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Okay, how does it make me feel…?” You closed your eyes, trying to picture Bucky and Natasha at the altar again. “It makes me feel a little bit crazy.”

“You’ll need to be a little more precise than that. Explain.”

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to try to calm your overactive, extremely loud heartbeat. You met her gaze again, and you knew you could be honest with her. “Well, for one, it makes me want to kick Natasha in the shin.”

Wanda laughed. “And what about Bucky?”

Shit. You knew what you were picturing. “I want to grab his face, and plead with him not to leave me.”

She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that all you want to do?”

You closed your eyes again, trying to imagine it. There was definitely more to the story, parts you would never let yourself picture before.

“No,” you admitted weakly. “That’s not all.”

“Could you picture yourself up on that altar beside him instead of Nat?”

There was no hesitation this time.

“Yes.” Your response was a mere whisper, but you couldn’t have managed a louder voice if you tried.

“I think you have your answer then, don’t you? I mean, you did try to keep Natasha away from him so you could keep him a little longer. Plus, I think, and this is just me observing from afar here, but…I think you purposefully sought out douchebags to date so you didn’t have to commit to anyone else.”

“I…really? You think?” Your brows scrunched in disbelief. “I thought I just had a type?”

“Yeah, you have a type all right. Tall, dark, blue eyes, and lives across the hall from you.”

“But he’s going out with Natasha tonight,” you groaned, moving back over to the door to peer out of the peephole. There were still no signs of anyone across the hall. “He probably isn’t even back from Rosie’s, since he slept with her and all.”

“You don’t know that he slept with her.”

You made a face at her over your shoulder. “I do too! He told me I won! That means he didn’t make it through the whole date without putting the moves on Rosie.”

“Well, I’m not convinced. He could have forfeited the whole thing. And if he did sleep with Rosie, does that change how you feel?”

“No.”

Boy, she was just getting you to admit everything. If she kept this up she’d probably squeeze your bank card information out, too. You were just too willing to spill right now. Stupid emotions!

You chewed your lower lip, a new thought coming to your mind. “How do I know I’m not manufacturing these feelings because I’m about to lose him?”

“Do you feel like these feelings are out of the blue? I mean, really admitting to yourself, Y/N. Are they new?”

She had you there. Your heart told you the answer, and you shook your head no.

“So try to find him before his date tonight then! What are you doing talking to me when you could be out landing your Mr. Right for once in your freaking life?”

“Ahhhh!” you yelled, hands flying up in the air. “I am so nervous!”

What would you even say? Hey, Bucky, good luck on your date tonight, but oh by the way, don’t go on it because I love you?

Feh!

You looked at Wanda with terror in your eyes, silently imploring for answers.

She offered you a bright, confident smile in return. “Don’t be nervous. If anyone on this planet knows just what to say to Bucky, it’s you.”

---

Alone again, you got properly dressed, did your hair and makeup (but not overdoing it, you didn’t want to seem too weird), and were now pacing in front of your door, waiting for signs of life across the hall.

Wanda had disappeared right after her last pep talk, making you promise to not only stay away from alcohol tonight, but to not let Bucky out of your sight without telling him how you feel.

She told you one way or another, your relationship with Bucky was going to change, so why not make it the way you want? She had a point.

Your feet were getting tired from standing up with no breaks, but you didn’t want to miss him. Not knowing where he was or what he was up to was super weird. He hadn’t texted you yet today, either. You didn’t really go this long without talking, so something was definitely up.

Just as you were about to give up and go rummage for food, you spotted him at his door, finally, carrying a few grocery bags. Before he could disappear inside, you opened your door and stepped out, avoiding eye contact.

You had to make it seem like a coincidence.

“Y/N, hey,” Bucky spoke up from his doorway. “How are you feeling today?”

“Oh, hey Bucky! Didn’t see you there,” you fibbed. Ugh, could you sound anymore rehearsed? “I’m fine, how are you?”

“Fine.” He set the bags down just inside the door and then walked over to you, his blue eyes unreadable. “Y/N -”

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night,” you offered, interrupting him. You needed to talk first, or you’d lose the courage to speak at all. “I didn’t mean to get that drunk, and…well…“

“Why did you, though?” Bucky asked, his eyes staring into yours intently. “That’s not like you, Y/N.”

“I don’t know,” you confessed with a shrug. “Just thought it would be a salve for my personality, I guess, to help me make it through the terrible date.”

He shook his head. “This stupid wager wasn’t worth it, Y/N. Not if you put yourself at risk like that. You know I’d cook for you anyways, right?”

Your heart did that fluttery thing again. Maybe you needed to have that looked at. Between that and your stomach issues, you were a total mess.

“It’s okay, Bucky. I guess…I guess it doesn’t really matter now. You’re a winner, too, right? By the way, Nat’s excited about your date tonight. She texted me about it and thanked me again.”

Bucky frowned a little. “You know about tonight?”

“Well, like I said, she’s been mentioning you for a while now, so…” You forced a smile to your face, knowing you were chickening out. “So, she thought she’d share the news…”

“Yeah, I just…she texted and I- I guess I didn’t see a reason not to go…” Bucky’s voice trailed off, glancing down at his feet before looking up at you again.

Was he waiting for you to joke about it? You had always sort of mocked his thing for Natasha.

In the end, you didn’t have the heart to make things worse for him. If he needed you as a friend, and wanted Nat as a girlfriend, then that’s what would happen and you’d be supportive.

“I think you’ll have a great time.” You gave a firm nod, and your heart clenched a little. “Anyways, good luck tonight. See ya!”

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone a little lower. “Thanks. See you.”

In a quick retreat, you turned and headed down the stairs as fast as your legs would take you, needing to get away from Bucky, away from this entire situation.

You didn’t wanna see him bring her home later, and shut the door on your hopes for good.

---

Saturday afternoon came and went, and by evening, you still didn’t want to go home. After all, Bucky’s date with Natasha probably wasn’t over.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thought and mental picture.

Longing was the worst.

Or was it pining?

No, those meant the same thing, you were pretty sure.

Either way, you hated both words.

These awful feelings ended up making you forget how to be anything but a wishful thinker. They robbed you of your ability to make good decisions, leaving behind only misery in the shell of who you used to be.

For fuck’s sake, when did you become so melodramatic? There was no way you were going to sit around all night pining for Bucky.

Instead, you spent the bulk of your day in Brooklyn, visiting the botanical gardens, then walking aimlessly to people-watch for a while.

You killed some more time by walking across the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan, then sat in a Starbucks near the office for about an hour. When you were finally out of things to do to distract yourself on short notice, you decided the coast was probably clear to return home.

By now, his choice would have been made, and you’d be safe to sneak in your apartment unnoticed.

With your mind made up, you threw away your empty coffee cup and headed for the door. You’d barely taken a step outside when you almost ran smack into a familiar person.

An all-too-familiar person, one of the last people you would expect to see anywhere but Bucky’s apartment right now, to be exact.

“Natasha?”

“Hey,” she said, a smile forming on her pretty features. “Y/N! Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah, you too. I assumed you’d still be with Bucky?” It was still pretty early in the evening. Dates that go well usually…end well?

Nat raised an eyebrow at you, shifting her bag closer to her body. “Why would you assume that?”

“Well, you had your date tonight, didn’t you? It’s so early…I figured…”

“You figured that I would fall into bed with him on the first date? Well, that’s sort of offensive.” She gave you a smile to show she wasn’t serious.

That miserable, crushing guilt returned anyway. “I’m sorry, Nat, I didn’t mean it like that, really. I just…in all the romance stories, movies, whatever, once the protagonist finds their true love, they usually just…get right to it.”

“And what on earth makes you think I found my true love?” Nat shook her head. “You watch too much TV or something, Y/N. Bucky’s hot, sure, and he’s really sweet. We went to a little restaurant in Brooklyn around six-thirty, but I was out of there by seven. Didn’t even eat. Bucky didn’t stop looking at his phone the whole time, and honestly, if I had to hear one more story about something you and he did together, I was going to scream.”

“Wait, what?” You blinked in confusion, moving to the side when more people started trying to get past you and Natasha on the sidewalk.

“He was totally distracted. Didn’t seem interested in me at all. I thought you said he was into me?”

“He- he was, Natasha, I don’t understand, I -” You were stuttering now, stumbling over words, because you couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“I kind of get it now, why you were trying to withhold information from me. I sort of caught the drift a while ago.” She leaned closer, eyes searching yours. “When did you realize you were in love with him?”

“I- I don’t,” you sputtered, still unable to make a complete sentence. “I’m not.”

“Recently, then? Oh, Y/N,” Natasha shook her head at you almost sympathetically. “Go home. Go talk to him. I don’t think New York City can handle much more of you two if you don’t. I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you,” you mumbled, still trying to process what she said as she flounced away down the sidewalk.

How come everyone knew you loved him before you knew?

Did Bucky know?

Your face grew hot at the thought of Bucky knowing you were pining for him while he was off sleeping with Rosie.

The walk back to Brooklyn was making you more and more nervous with each step. Natasha had said he was distracted; what if he had a different date altogether, like Rosie, and didn’t want Natasha because you’d handed her to him?

Was it a pride or ego thing? Was he trying to prove a point? Maybe he wanted to teach you a lesson?

Maybe you didn’t understand Bucky as well as everyone thought, after all.

As you got to your apartment, trudged up the steps, and went to unlock your door, there was a loud a click behind you. Bucky’s door opened; you knew the sound by now.

You shifted your bag on your shoulder and turned to look.

Bucky was standing in his doorway, eyes wide. “Y/N. Hey…where have you been all day? I’ve been looking for you.”

“I, uh…I was playing tourist. My phone’s been off. I went to the botanical gardens, and then-”

“That sounds nice,” he interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked super uncomfortable and you couldn’t blame him.

You’d made a complete mess of your friendship in just a couple of days.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

“Nope.” Where was he going with this?

“C-can you…uh…Can you come over? I’m feeling pretty shitty and I don’t want to be alone.”

Ah. That sounded awfully familiar. Those were some of the same words you’d said to Wanda this morning, after realizing that Bucky was the cause of and solution to all your personal problems.

He was probably going to have The Talk with you, about how he was just not into you, and how wrong you’d been about Natasha, and then he’d drop the bomb and tell you all about his love for this mystery girl he’d been texting during his date.

It was probably Rosie.

Your stomach twisted in knots again. He had fallen for Rosie, hadn’t he?

He’d warned you - he’d suggested that maybe Rosie would be the one to make him change his ways.

What had you done?

“It’s been a rough day,” he added dejectedly, letting his hand fall to his side. “Saturdays are supposed to be better than this, right?”

Rough day? Was it realizing Nat wasn’t all he wanted? Or did something happen with Rosie?

The pain in your stomach got worse, and this time it was coupled with anxiety. That happened a lot around him anymore. “I don’t know, Bucky, I’m kind of tired, so I-“

“Please? Just for a bit. I really want to talk to my best friend.”

His pleading expression made all your protests disappear. Friends..that’s what you were, and that’s what you’d stay. As long as you didn’t lose him…

“Okay,” you agreed softly. “Just for a little bit.”

He nodded, then opened the door wider, silently inviting you inside.

You took a deep breath, then a few hesitant steps forward.

---

Part 7

PERMA TAGS: (Closed) @sprinkleofhappinessuniverse @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @alurea-actually @cassandras-musings @marvel-fanfiction @bluebrrn @simplyme8308 @cleanslates @ailynalonso15 @jaydenval @imnoaingeal @miss-jessi29 @kittthekat @crownie-sr @indominusregina @wonder-carolina @littlenerdgirl16 @amrita31199 @tatortot2701 @melissalovesmusicyay @kcsavege4134 @lilasiannerd @hardcorehippos @buckyswinterchildren @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt @cosmic-avenger @mirkwood—princess @neverbeforgotten @minervaem @givemethatgold @assbutt-son-of-a-bitch @decemberftw @widowvinter @nolaimagines @notsoprettykitty @dracsgirl @hollycornish @feelmyroarrrr @ancchor @seeyainanotherlifebrotha @aenna-4 @kithlin @heytherepartner @polkadottedpillowcase @johnmurphys-sass @aeillo @winterboobaer @kaaatniss @whyisbuckyso @super-daryl-dixon @wishingtobelost @capdanrogers @gallifreyansass @rockintensse @minaphobia @vaisabu @rchlnwtn @imamoose @ria132love @sofiadiaz04 @actual-bucky-barnes-trash @dolthiac @mytrueself @mynamespaigex @dressedbutwellstressed @onceuponahiddleston @lady-thor-foster @netflixa @punk-rock-princess-626 @srgtjamesbarnes107

Story Tags: (Closed) @greeneyedgirls4 @mcusebstan @theliteratureloser @lalocket @mrs-lamezec @angelstaruniverse @vindictivegrace @latenightbooknerd @winchesterandpie @dreamer1495 @tomhollands

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #au!bucky #AU!buckybarnes #chef!bucky #kaits5kauchallenge #jsd friendly wager #bucky neighbor au

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runningwitches · 7 years ago

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Hello! Questions. Okay. Describe your favorite sweater and why it's your favorite. Apparently Pitch Perfect 3 just came out, did you see the first two, do you think this one's going to be any good? What is your favorite scent for a scented candle? If you could go to one national park in the US next year which one would it be and why? Tell me about your favorite person in your family. What does your phone case look like?

I wasn't done yet. For pizza, do you like traditional toppings or do you go for unusual things (last week I had pizza with mashed potatoes and bacon on it)? Do you ever wear rings? Why or why not? Do they have a special meaning to you? Are you planning to celebrate on new year's eve? What do you think you will do? How do you feel about public libraries? What are three good books you've read this year (I always need recommendations!)? Have you ever sent anyone a postcard? If so who and where fromStill here. Have you ever been to the snow? Do you know how to ice skate? Any tips for a beginner? Who are your favorite British actors and what have they been in? Tell me about the types of things you like to cook or bake. Tell me one goal you have for 2018. Have you ever been to the Oceanside pier (because it's my fav and has my parents and grandparents names on it)? Do you ever paint your nails and do you have the secret for how to make the polish stay on for more than 24 hours? I need to knoOkay, I’m on mobile because tumblr doesn’t work on my chrome book so I’m really sorry for this long post without a cut, but thanks for sending these questions inOkay wow, my favorite sweater? I don’t know if I really have a favorite one. I think I have a pink (like a millenial pink color) knit one that I really like, and a blue cropped length one that’s really comfy. I have seen the first two Pitch Perfects, and I’m not sure that to think of this third one coming out. From what I can tell in the trailers, it looks pretty good, but the first one will always hold a special place in my heart. My favorite scent for pretty much anything is vanilla. But if I had to choose something else, I’d go with lavender. Both of those scents are just very calming, and as a person with very bad anxiety who is in a lot of stress inducing situations, calming scents are always my favorite. I’ve only been to a few of the national parks, so I guess I’d like to go to one that I haven’t been to before. I’ve been to the Grand Canyon, Carlsbad Caverns, Redwood Forests, and the Rocky Mountains. I think I would enjoy a trip to any of the national parks (including the ones that I’ve already been too), just because they’re all such beautiful places. It’s very difficult for me to choose a favorite person in my family, because I love both of my brothers so much. I don’t see either of them very often, but I love hanging out with and talking with both of them, but for very different reasons. My oldest brother is ten years older than me, and he’s awesome because we can always talk about nerdy things like video games and comics. He’s the one that I go to comic-con with every year, and he dresses up with me for cosplay. My other brother is six years older than me, and even though he has a severe case of “middle-child syndrome” he’s (almost) always willing to pick me up and drop me off places, we always can talk about anything, which usually means politics, and he always defends me when my mom gets on my case for irrational things. I only use OtterBoxes on my phone, and I use the commuter series. I’ve gone through two of them so far (I’ve had this phone for almost three years and I promise it’s from natural wear and tear and not dropping it a million times), but I painted the first one to look like Hogwarts, and my current one has silver holographic glitter on it. With pizza, I really only like cheese, but sometimes I’ll get cheese and pineapple (and nobody is allowed to judge me on this one because you just said there was pizza with mashed potatoes and bacon on it). I don’t ever wear rings. I find them very uncomfortable. The only time I ever wear rings is for my Scarlet Witch cosplay, and even then, I tend to take them off halfway through the day of the con. I really wanted to celebrate with my friends on new years because I never have before, but I don’t think I will, because they are going to have champagne there (which isn’t that bad, but still illegal) and I’m not really comfortable being there if they are going to be underage drinking. I think public libraries are amazing! Allowing people who wouldn’t otherwise be able to access these resources to have this access is amazing, and I definitely think there should be more things like it. Okay, this is going to sound awful, but I haven’t read any new books this year. I’ve been insanely busy with life (and mental illness) that I’ve been working so hard on other things, I haven’t had time to sit down and enjoy a book. I have sent a postcard! I’ve sent multiple, but they were so long ago (I haven’t travelled in AGES) that I don’t really remember. Most of the time when I travel, I buy postcards and just keep them, because, especially now, I don’t have anybody to send them to. I have been to the snow, but not like crazy snow or anything. I live in San Diego, so we don’t really get any snow, except for in the mountains, so I haven’t really experienced it the way I imagine others would. I do know how to ice skate, but every time I get on the ice, I have to relearn how to, so I tend to spend the first half of the trip on the wall. Honestly, if you’re just getting the hang of it, I always have to remind myself to just go for it. Whenever I’m struggling on the ice it’s because I’m too scared to allow myself to actually skate, and I’m holding myself back (which is awful because you want to be able to just continue the motion that you’re already going in and use the inertia of your body to keep yourself going forward). The only time I ever come close to falling (I’ve never actually fallen if I’m remembering correctly) is when I’m hesitating and trying to fight the natural flow of my body moving across the ice. Oh man, I don’t really have favorite actors, I tend to follow series more than actors, but I would say if I had to choose a favorite actor, my favorite would be British (Tom Holland). I love baking! I love making cookies and cupcakes, and I love trying new recipes from scratch. In 2018, I just want to focus on my mental health and bettering myself as a person. I’m planning on starting to work out more (cliche, I know), but since I’m not doing track anymore, and since I’m graduating high school and won’t be able to do cross country in college, I want to start a workout regimen that I can do on my own. I also want to figure out a skincare regimen that works for my skin, and I want to start reducing my waste by using products with less packaging (which I won’t be able to completely reduce these types of things because I don’t have a lot of money, but I would like to try and start). I think I’ve probably been to Oceanside pier because I only live an hour away and I know I did a lot of visiting things like that when I was younger, but I haven’t been there recently and would totally like to go. I do! I used to have a nail art account on Instagram. The best way to keep nail polish on for a long time is to use a base coat, top coat, and to seal the tip with every layer of nail polish (just wrap the end of the polish around the tip of the nail if your nail is long enough). Keeping the layers to a minimum helps because when there are more layers it becomes easier to peel up. Also try and make sure to keep the polish off of the cuticle, because it tends to pull up the polish around that part of the nail when it peels off of the skin, and make sure that the polish is sandwiched between the two layers pretty well to keep it intact as long as possible. Thank you so much for sending these in, I was forced to leave my room, so I pulled this up on my laptop and typed it all out in a google doc so it looked like I was doing something really important (and they didn’t ask me a million questions like they would have).

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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946

Do you flush the toilet with your hand or your foot?: I use my hand at home and in other people’s bathrooms, but I use my foot in public washrooms because I know everyone else does and I would not want my hands anywhere near something so dirty.

What is your Myers-Briggs Type Indicator? (Ex: ENTP): My results change every time I take it and I believe it’s because I retake the test at different points in my life where I’ve changed a little bit. That being said I’ve gotten ISFJ, ISTJ, INTJ, and ENTJ. I feel like it would eventually give me the entire spectrum so I just stopped taking the test altogether at some point.

Do you read any blogs? If so, which ones?: I read people’s answers on here because I find everyone interesting, if that counts as reading someone’s blog.

Where do you typically buy your clothes?: Small, independent tiangges at the mall that sell trendy pieces for a lot cheaper.

On a scale of one to ten, how healthy do you eat?: 5. I like my veggies and would never skimp on them, it’s just that more unhealthy foods are more accessible to me for the most part ha.

What do you think is the most valuable college major?: All of them are? This question really comes off as elitist.

Which book(s) should I read this summer?: I’d rather refer you to other survey-takers instead who read way more than I do and for sure have a better selection to recommend, heh.

Would you rather have curvy legs or skinny legs?: I don’t mind what kind of legs I have...but I have a bit of both, I’d say. I have a thigh gap but my thighs have a bit of meat on them and aren’t entirely skinny.

Do you believe in ghosts? If so, have you ever seen one?: It’s fun to believe in them just because it makes watching things like Buzzfeed Unsolved more fun, but at the end of the day I like to remain skeptical. I’ve never seen one.

What is your favorite game show?: Jeopardy! Family Feud can also be hilarious.

How many times a day do you use the restroom?: 1-3 times a day, probably.

How much fruit do you eat on a given day?: Blech, none. My sister loves fruits though, so we always have a selection of them at home. I just ignore them.

What was the last thing that made you cringe?: I was watching a Good Mythical Morning video on people who attempted to beat world records but failed, so you can imagine the secondhand embarrassment that came off that video.

What is your favorite 80s movie?: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off FOR. DAYS.

What time did you go to bed last night?: I was tired and cranky and sad, so I was in bed by 9 PM.

Do you have your own car?: I technically do. But my parents paid for it; it’s just mainly mine so I can take myself anywhere if I have to.

Do you own a romper?: Yes, a couple. It’s one of my favorite things to wear; they’re simple and easy to wear and still always look nice on me.

Who was the last person who drew you a picture?: Andrew.

When someone takes your picture, do you smile with mouth open or closed?: Depends how close the camera is. I close my mouth if it’s a selfie or if the camera is very near; if it’s a group shot I tend to smile with my teeth.

Be honest -- do you floss?: Occasionally.

Five years ago, what did you want to grow up to be?: I wanted to be a journalist and do documentaries, lels. Naïve times when I thought that would bring me money.

What do you want to be now?: Career-wise my priorities have moved onto being in public relations and handling brands. Person-wise, I wish I was happy and that my life would be on track soon.

Would you rather hold a scorpion or a snake?: Scorpion, only because I’ve already held snakes before and it’d be nice to try something I’ve never done.

Can you do the splits?: Never could.

What is your favorite type of personality in a person?: I like approachable people, those who don’t close themselves off when it comes to helping or those who are super easy to talk to.

How about your least favorite?: People who live in their privilege and aren’t considerate of others who may be living in different, less-advantaged situations.

What is your favorite breakfast cereal?: I don’t like cereal but my favorite brand to eat on its own is the Cookie Crisp one. Tiny chocolate chips as a cereal will always be revolutionary to me, ha.

How do you usually get your exercise?: Walking my dogs is my only workout. And since I can’t walk them together, I get to have two rounds.

Who are your godparents?: Some of my mom’s cousins.

What is your favorite ice cream flavor?: Cookies and cream! And chocolate chip cookie dough.

Are any of your siblings married?: Neither of them are, and at 20 and 17 I’m not expecting them to be.

What does your phone case look like, if you have one?: It’s just a plain, clear one. I managed to destroy an Otterbox case, so the second one my parents got for me was a cheap plastic case lol.

What is something about you that the opposite sex finds attractive?: Why ask me? Go ask them.

What are your three favorite girl names?: Olivia, Mia, and Arden. Those are my favorites today, at least. Olivia’s a constant, but the other two are always changing.

What are your three favorite boy names?: Lucas, Matteo, Miguel.

What do you usually put in your omelettes?: Cheese, tomatoes, bell peppers.

Have you ever tried to go vegetarian? How long did you last?: I haven’t, but it’s something I’ve wanted to try for a while. Filipino cuisine hardly has any avenues to allow for a vegetarian diet though so I’m never sure if I could actually push through with one.

What kind of exotic animal do you think you could keep as a pet?: None of them.

If you could be any kind of building, what would you be and why?: I don’t really care...

What is your favorite type of dog?: Anything but the feisty chihuahuas.

What is something you can draw really well?: Letters.

What is your favorite fast food joint?: Jollibee will always be a winner in my heart.

#survey #surveys

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phagechildon · 5 years ago

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Turdday - Chapter 1

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Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 |

Summary: When Leo doesn't show up to work (aka his surprise birthday party at Libra headquarters), Zapp goes to check on him only to find he's been caught up in yet another shitstorm. With creatures that only he can see pursuing him, the Libra members find it hard to protect him when Leo can't even remember who they are or how to use the All Seeing Eyes of the Gods.

----

The blistering summer heat made Leo groan as he tossed the blankets off, his whole body glistening with exhausting sweat. It was only the beginning of May and yet due to living in Hellsalem’s Lot, his entire apartment complex’s air conditioning broke due to falling debris from the skyscraper next door. That wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the heater that kept kicking on randomly even though the maintenance guy kept turning it off. No one could figure out how or why, which is why they opted to just replace the whole unit. Unfortunately for everyone living in the complex, any type of repairs in this city took time considering they were needed all over.

“I can’t take this anymoreeeee,” he whined, his eyes glancing over to the window adjacent to his bed to see it was still open - probably his attempt to let some cool air in last night. Gods he was hot… it made him feel sick. “That did absolutely nothing?! It’s too freakin hot, I didn’t move to Arizona goddammit!” He flailed on the bed, throwing one of his mini temper tantrums. The more he flailed the worse he felt, his limbs dropping to the bed like heavy weights as nausea suddenly overwhelmed him.

Shit - he did not feel good. His whole body felt like it was just taken out of an oven and he was suffering from heat exhaustion. How was it possible for Hellsalem’s Lot to get this hot?! There had to be an explanation for this, which made him reach for his phone. His hand trembled, gravity against his appendage seeming to triple as it collapsed on the electronic device.

Weird… why wasn’t it plugged in? Normally he never forgot, even if he was utterly exhausted and sleep tried ripping his conscious into another reality. His phone was literally his lifeline, which is why he made it a habit not to forget.

Then again, was it really so strange for him to forget just once? Nah, he decided as he pulled it closer to himself, finding it far more difficult than it should’ve been as his arm essentially felt like dead weight. Pressing the home button he gasped, his eyes opening a bit to reveal the blue glow hidden behind his normally partially closed eyelids.

The screen and phone case was cracked. When the hell did this happen? He even invested in an expensive Otterbox to prevent this! It wasn’t like this last night… right?

His eyebrows creased as he found it hard to even remember last night. What did he do? He didn’t have work, that much he knew, so he got to relax. It wasn’t like he made it a habit to drink, but then why was his memory hazy? Maybe there was something on his phone that would remind him?

Unlocking it, he felt his breath catch in his throat. His text messages were open to Klaus, a hastily written message remaining unsent: sOs

His grip around his phone tightened, his mind reeling. So many troubling questions ran through his mind, all without answers. Why did he try texting Klaus SOS? Why was the O the only thing capitalized? Why was it left unsent? Why was his phone cracked? Why wasn’t it charged - it was at ten percent!

Why couldn't he remember what happened last night?

Gazing around his room, he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. His XStation controller sat on the coffee table next to a nearly empty glass of Pepsi and a half eaten bags of chips. It was safe to assume he played the XStation all day, something he’d typically do on his day off. The only thing that seemed off was the pile of unopened snacks under the table, but that could easily be explained by him getting to a good part in the game and losing track of time.

… Of course he couldn’t remember even if he did, which agitated him even more. He’d have to replay all the progress he made yesterday if his memory didn’t return - just his luck. He wanted to throw another tantrum at that thought alone, but stayed strong.

That was the least of his worries. Something obviously happened last night, something he needed to worry about. He’d try asking around the apartment complex to see if anyone else was experiencing any problems with their memory; maybe it wasn’t just him.There was that mass fainting and amnesia incident where he met Neji a while back no one could explain, it would be just his luck for it to follow him home.

Taking a deep breath, he locked his phone and tried to sit up, only to feel ten times worse as bile rushed up his throat. He tried choking it back, but the room started to spin until his vision faded to darkness. It felt like he was rapidly falling into a deep abyss with a cloud of pure darkness encasing the entirety of his head only to be pulled back into his body moments later, the smell of acid making him open his eyes slightly and groan. Not only was he completely covered in throw up, but so were the sheets and part of his bed.

Great, just great. He knew there was nothing special about today; this day hasn’t been special in a long time.

Water. He needed water. Not only was the dizziness getting worse despite closing his eyes, but his throat also felt absolutely raw. If he remembered correctly, there was a glass on the nightstand where his phone used to be. Peeking over, he groaned. So close, yet so far away. He wasn’t even sure if he could sit up without letting loose again, which made him ask the agonizing question again: What the hell did he do last night?! He wasn’t a drinker, and he for sure didn’t do drugs, so what could explain his current predicament?

‘Why does this crap always happen to me?’ He grumbled as he slowly forced himself up, the dizziness trying to pull him back into the darkness again. It took everything he had to reach over and grab the cup without his world fading to black, let alone hold in the bile. But somehow he managed.

Downing half the cup of water, he set it back down on the table, feeling his stomach instantly reject it, making him shiver and tremble. Why was he so sick? Was it something he ate last night? The opened bags of chips and lack of dirty dishes made him think he forgot to eat normal food before bed, which wasn’t uncommon for him during his days off. And he was pretty sure the chips and soda wasn’t behind this, they’ve never made him feel this sick before.

The room started to spin more, making him squeeze his eyes tightly shut and unconsciously hold his throat, trying to will it back down.

‘What the hell’s wrong with me?’ He mumbled, fear starting to seep into his veins.

Hot… it was so hot. He needed to cool off-!

Water - he needed more water. Drinking it only made it worse last time, but maybe if he laid in it long enough the symptoms would subside.

Yeah he just needed to get to the shower. A bath would be more ideal, but he didn’t want to end up falling unconscious and drowning.

He didn’t remember how he got from point A to point B, but he had a lot of new formed bruises on his knees and even a cut that bleed slightly on right arm. Thank goodness his apartment was very small or he would’ve never made it.

A deep moan vibrated his throat as focused on the cool water that gently beat against his body. He didn’t even care that he was laying down on the shower ground, nor that his head pounded fiercely from hitting his head on the side of the tub on the way down. In fact he wasn’t even aware of that or the blood that gently left the wound and trickled down the drain. He merely rejoiced in the feeling of the heat leaving, not even hearing his phone going off on his bed.

----

“He’s still not answering,” Steven worriedly reported to Klaus who glanced out the windows of the common room office, not even trying to hide his concern. It was very unlike Leonardo not to answer them, and even more unlike him not to show up to work when he played the main role in today’s ‘mission.’

“The GPS states he’s still home, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Maybe the brat just overslept or got hung over,” Zapp offered without looking up from the game he was playing on his phone.

“I can’t imagine he’d sleep in two hours late,” Steven said, scrolling through his iPad. “If anything Sonic would’ve woken him up.”

“Do we have any agents in the area that can check on him?” Klaus asked, clenching his fists in an attempt to control his emotions. Ever since the incident with Michella a few months back, he couldn’t help but worry whenever Leo didn’t answer them. He didn’t want that incident to repeat itself.

Steven pulled up the other GPS signals and sighed. “Negative. The closest operative is conducting an undercover investigation of Mary’s Sweets Shop; can’t risk pulling him out without raising suspicion.”

Klaus nodded as he turned. “Then I’ll go-”

“Let me give the brat hell for playing hookie,” Zapp said as he stood, tossing his phone in his pocket and lighting a cigarette.

Steven let his shoulders relax as a small smile came to his face, relieved the white haired jackass decided to do something decent for once. “Thank you Zapp. I’d volunteer myself, but the kid already freaks out enough as it is. Having Klaus or I check in on him if he merely did sleep in, well, I don’t need to spell that out for you.”

He really didn’t, they all knew Leo would be too embarrassed to talk to them for a month straight, not to mention feel the need to make it up to them somehow.

“The kid’s a total spaz,” Zapp mumbled as he left, making Klaus and Steven glance at each other uneasily.

“Gilbert, please tell our guests there’s been a delay and we’ll give them an update as soon as we can.”

The combat butler bowed. “Of course, right away.”

----

“Either you open this fucking door or I’ll tear it down and beat your ass into an early grave for being late, and more importantly, for making me come down here to drag your ass to work!” Zapp hissed as he banged on Leo’s apartment door, not letting up. He couldn’t believe he was worried, the shithead was in the shower - he could hear the water running! The kid was going to pay for wasting his time. “You owe me lunch you mug shot of pubes!”

No response, not even a feeble plea for him to stop making so much noise so he didn’t get a noise complaint from the neighbors. The kid was so paranoid he always begged him to quiet down so the landlord wouldn't skip the warning and go straight to evicting him.

Something wasn’t right.

“I’m coming in!” He yelled before slamming his body against the door, knocking it in. The first thing he noticed was the smell. He’d been hung over enough times to know the smell of puke and saw it all over the bed and floor, a trail of it leading to the bathroom.

“Well that’s disgusting,” he mumbled, his eyes moving to the bathroom to see the door open. Still no verbal complaints about his rambunctious self; there was no way Leo hadn’t heard him, especially not after he knocked the door in. “You in here ya’ brat?” He called, slowly making his way into the bathroom, only to have his eyes widen.

On the shower floor lay an unconscious Leo with blood still languidly leaving a nasty cut on his forehead, the water washing it down the drain and lightly staining the rest of his exposed skin a light pink.

“Shit-” Zapp immediately ran over and checked for a pulse.

Still alive, but he needed to figure out how badly he was injured. Physically he only saw the nasty gash on his head, which was probably why he was out cold. But that wouldn’t explain the mess he made in the other room.

Reaching over he turned off the water, his other hand gently shaking Leo’s shoulder. “You alright kid?” There was dried blood on the side of the tub where the water didn’t touch, meaning this happened a little bit ago. How long had he been unconscious, and where was Sonic?

Leo felt himself slowly start to stir, unable to help a small groan that left his lips as he slowly started to register the sharp pain in his head. His throat and stomach felt like they were on fire, and his head was pounding . He couldn’t help the way he shriveled up, his breathing becoming sharp and slightly erratic.

How was it possible for him to feel so cold yet so hot at the same time? How’d he even end up in the shower? Why wasn’t anything making sense?!

A gentle hand rest against his shoulder, making him snap his eyes open.

“You alright kid?” A voice… who was that? Was he not alone? Slowly he let his eyes follow the arm up, finding himself staring into familiar gray eyes.

He knew this person… right?

“Z…Zapp… what are you doing here?” He asked gruffly, the name coming to him rather quickly. How the hell did he nearly forget Zapp? One did not simply forget such an asshole.

“You didn’t freakin’ show up to work so they sent me here to see where your sorry ass was,” Zapp responded as he looked around, grabbing a towel off the rack and dropping it on him. “What the hell happened to you? Drink one too many last night or what?”

Leo opened his eyes a little more, the soft blue glow showing as he tried recalling what he did last night, only to realize…. He didn’t remember anything from last night, and he didn't remember anything from this morning. It took everything he had not to start freaking out.

“I-I… I uhh… don’t know the answer to that, I can’t… remember anything from yesterday… or… this morning,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath. Very slowly he started to sit up, the towel rolling down his exposed body, but he was too out of it to care. “I… I…” he held the side of his head as it pounded even more, the world starting to spin along with his stomach.

Shit, he did not feel well.

“I… don’t think I’d drink, not while playing games… and, and-” he held his head a bit tighter as his other shaking hand went to his mouth, trying to hold back the bile that suddenly skyrocketed up to his mouth. His eyesight went in and out, his body swaying. Releasing the hold around his head he blindly reached out for the side for the tub, missing it twice before finally catching it.

Zapp’s eyes narrowed as he watched this, growing more concerned.

Something wasn’t right. Even the godly glow from Leo’s eyes seemed dimmer than usual.

“I’ll give you a minute so you don’t puke all over me,” the man said as he stood, turning away just as Leo let loose again.

He needed to take a closer look at the scene to completely assess the situation. Sure at first glance one would just say the kid was sick, but something didn’t feel right. To be more precise, something didn’t smell right, and it wasn’t the throw up. It was a sweet yet bitter scent that was foreign to the small apartment, though it was similar to something he himself had been exposed to before. This wasn't something the innocent Leo would be meddling with, at least not willingly.

Walking up to the coffee table, he examined the goods both on and under it. There was an open bag of chips and a half empty Pepsi bottle next to a XStation controller on the small coffee table. Okay, that was normal enough. Examining underneath it, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he spotted two opened yet barely touched Pepsi bottles leaning against one of the table’s legs.

Weird, the kid normally didn’t waste anything, especially since he barely used his own money for himself. Reaching down he picked one up and smelled it.

Nothing out of the ordinary, okay. Test one fail, test two-

He brought the bottle to his lips and tilted it just enough to get a small dab on his tongue, his eyes widening instantly.

Bingo. The soda tasted slightly more bitter than usual, something normal people would just blame on the amount of syrup in the bottle and continue drinking without a second thought.

He spit it out and placed the bottle on the table. That would explain one of the scents, but not the sweet one.

Glancing at the chips he took one and smelled it, once again not finding anything out of the ordinary. Taking a bite, he found it tasted normal.

It wasn’t the chips, but then where was it coming from?

Glancing around the room some more, his eyes caught sight of Leo’s cracked phone and case, making his eyes crease even more. “The hell?” Side stepping past the vomit, he grabbed the phone and looked it over. His phone wasn’t like this the day before yesterday, and the OtterBox he picked out was top price - he was the one that went with him to pick it out. It would’ve taken a lot of force to not only do this kind of damage to the case, but to the phone inside it as well.

Wait- the sweet scent was strong on the case. Bringing the phone closer he took a bigger whiff, only to pull away and cough.

Yep, that was no doubt coming from the phone, but that didn’t make any sense - none of this was making any sense. For it to smell this strong, someone would’ve had to dump a bunch of whatever the hell it was on the phone.

Unless… it wasn’t just on the phone. Come to think of it, the bed itself smelled sweet, even if it was faint and masked with stomach acid. His eyes drifted upwards, noticing his window was open. The ventilation probably diluted it.

Zapp’s phone suddenly went off, making the man jump. Shit, he didn’t realize how on edge was. “Perfect timing,” he said as he answered, his eyes moving back to Leo’s phone. Maybe there was a clue as to what he was doing last night on it. “I was just getting ready to call you guys.”

“Is that so?” Steven asked sarcastically, not believing him. “Is Leo okay?”

“I wouldn't say okay, but he’s alive,” Zapp admitted as he tried a few passwords, hissing when he couldn’t remember the new one. “He’s currently throwing up all over himself and can’t remember anything from last night or this morning, not to mention he can’t even grab something less than two inches in front of him. Looking around his apartment, I’ve found some evidence that it’s been tampered with.”

Steven noted the serious tone as he glanced over at Klaus who shared a similar expression. Zapp was on speaker so the second in command didn’t have to repeat everything. “We’re heading over now, what else did you find?”

“You’re better off sending the forensics team, there’s some kind of drug in the soda he was drinking and possibly a drug that was released into the air or something. I can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from, but he doesn’t have a lot of motor skills. I doubt the blow he took to the head has anything to do with it though, it’s just a gash-” he stopped mid-sentence as the phone finally unlocked, the text screen to Klaus still open from last night making him realize the severity of the situation.

Someone attacked Leo.

A loud squeal came from the bathroom, followed by a large thud. Zapp dashed back in to see the kid haphazardly grasping the closed toilet for dear life as his legs were a tangled mess underneath him, his shins scraped and now slightly bleeding.

“The hell’s wrong with you?! Why’d you try getting up on your own you dimwit?!” He seethed, watching the other’s labored breathing slightly fogging up the ceramic toilet. His eyes looked even cloudier than before as his cheeks were dusted red. If he had normal eyes they’d probably be dilated as hell.

“What’s going on Zapp??” Steven’s frantic voice came from the phone, making him click his tongue.

“The turd sprout tried getting up on his own, what an idiot,” he said, his voice was laced with worry despite how much he tried to mask it. “I take it back, I’ll meet you half way. He apparently tried texting Klaus for help but wasn’t able to send it, so there’s got to be more we’re missing here.”

Leo weakly looked over to the talking man, everything spinning worse than before as the world went from blue and purple hues to dull grays blacks and whites. One moment the man was gone, then the next he was in his personal space putting clothes on him. He was talking to someone on the phone, though all his words were muffled beyond recognition as an obnoxious ringing drowned everything else out.

A hand pressed against his forehead, pushing his swaying body against the tub for support. Whoever this was seemed to at least care about his health. The cool touch to his boiling forehead made him sigh in relief, his eyes closing to savor the feeling. Unfortunately it didn’t last long, making him moan in protest. Opening his eyes he found the man gone again. Where’d he go? Why’d he leave?

Opening his eyes more, the world became blue and purple again, a golden aura coming towards him. The man kneeled in front of him and pressed a frozen dinner against his forehead, making him shudder.

Oh, that felt good.

“How are you not brain dead?!” He heard him gasp, making Leo open his eyes a little more. Strange, the ringing was slowly subsiding, his senses returning. He opened his mouth to respond when he saw something - a black mass at the corner of his eye, making him turn slightly. The aura was somewhat far despite being close, meaning he must be seeing through the wall. It looked like this thing was crawling in from an open window, prompting him to whimper.

“-but I need my hands in case we’re attacked!”

Attacked? Did he not hear or see the black mass that was now lingering in the doorway of the bathroom blocking off their only exit?!

It crept closer and closer, making him realize that no, this man had no clue there was a creature behind him. But what could he do about it aside from hyperventilate?

“Leo-” a familiar voice pierced through the haze, making him take a deep breath. That voice - it belonged to someone dear to him. “You need to remain calm. We’re almost there.”

That voice- “Mr… Klaus…?” He somehow managed out, a few pieces of his life slowly coming back.

Libra, right. He came to Hellsalem’s Lot to locate Libra and find a way to restore his sister’s eyesight. Now he was part of that organization, helping the real heroes maintain at least some balance in the world by fighting off the dickheads who set their sights on world domination.

Speaking of dickheads, the gooey black creature behind Zapp stopped and rose a hand, the appendage forming into a sharp blade.

Words failed him, he couldn’t even muster up a whimper. His eyes sparked as he did the only thing he could think of; he hijacked Zapp’s eyes, letting him see his view.

It happened too fast for him to process in his current state, but within a blink of an eye the man was standing while the other creature was splattered all over the walls.

“What the hell was that thing?!” The man yelped as Leo was quickly picked up, much to his displeasure. He had to close his eyes to prevent himself from blacking out, but not before he caught a glimmer of more of those things clambering through the window.

“Shit - if you wanna live kid you gotta give me your eyes again!”

Eyes? Why did the man want his eyes-

Oh, right.

He opened them to see a deformed globby hand reaching out for him, only a few inches away from his face-

Until it burst into black goo - a blood red sword shimmering in the light.

“That was too close,” the man scowled as he took off running out the door, holding tightly onto his small body. “I know it’s hard but you gotta keep lending me your eyes or we’re done for, got it?”

Leo couldn’t even say anything as they made a sharp turn, barely dodging one of those goo creatures as it slammed into a wall, bursting upon impact.

“Hold this-” the man demanded, barely giving the kid enough time to wrap his weak fingers around the cellular device.

“What the hell’s going on over there Zapp?!” A voice came from the phone, seeming annoyed and slightly panicked.

“Something Otherworldly’s chasing us, I can only see it ‘cause Leo hijacked my vision,” Zapp quickly interrupted his boss, not knowing how much time they had before Leo fell unconscious. With the way the borrowed sight kept cutting in and out, they wouldn’t even make it down the street, let alone out the building. “You wanna die you scruffy nutsack?! Concentrate on lending me your fucking sight!”

Die? So these things were trying to kill them?

“How many are there?” Steven asked, shushing someone in the background.

Chancing a glance back, Zapp hissed. The one that collided with the wall was already slowly reforming. “I’m counting at least five, maybe six. They can apparently regenerate themselves.”

“Do you see any auras - colors surrounding them?”

Zapp opened his mouth-

An explosion rocked the building as a black sludgy hand slammed into the wall right in front of them. The sword quickly burst apart into strings that wrapped around- around thin air??

Zapp’s eyes widened in horror, but didn’t lose concentration as he slipped his lighter out with his free hand. “Seventh Hell!” The strings of blood burst into flames, a screeching wail shattering the windows in the building. Zapp wasted no time feeling the heat through his clothes as he jumped past the flames and out the hole the creature created in the building. “Come on wake up kid, we really need you right now!”

He punctured his palm with the device, using his blood to swing from building to building like Spiderman, much to his distaste. This whole situation sucked ass, and it was about to get even worse considering none of them could see the fuckers with Leo unconscious.

“Leo can you hear me?” Zapp asked almost frantically, hearing a large crash behind them. Glancing back he paled. Those creatures had enough strength to knock a stoplight over and into traffic, which meant they had the strength to bend and break metal. Then again one of them did make a gaping whole through a building, so he really shouldn’t be surprised. He was more worried about one of them getting close enough and hittingthem with that strength.

“Come on kid you have to wake up! What happened to that self-righteous spirit of yours? I’m gonna get killed because of your shitty luck - you can’t give up!” He shook the other violently as he continued to swing, ultimately knowing it wasn't Leo’s fault, not with that blistering fever. He was honestly shocked the kid wasn’t dead yet.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up on end.

There was no time to react. He didn’t even get to turn his head to watch thin air grab him, squeezing tightly.

Leo - he was holding him under his other arm, the angle and pressure from the grip probably literally suffocating him. He had to do something, and fast.

Risk levels flew out the window as he gripped the device that was still in his palm. “Blade Form One: Homuramaru!”

A loud screech shattered the windows of the nearby buildings as the grip disappeared, the two of them free falling. Zapp glanced up as he tried regaining his breath, seeing the black goo that had been holding them now visible as it fell with them. How could he fight something he could only see after it’s taken a hit?

“Focus dickhead,” Chain’s voice snapped him into reality as she grabbed the back of Zapp’s shirt and yanked them with her, slowly gliding away and down towards a blood net Zed stood by.

“For your information I was . It’s not my fault these sons of bitches can’t be seen by normal eyes!” Zapp wailed, making Chain click her tongue.

“Just die-” A spray of red broke through their banter, along with a half seethe, half yelp from Zapp as the arm he held Leo in ignited with fierce pain. He barely felt the small body being yanked from his profusely bleeding arm as it felt like something was tearing the flesh right off the bone, making him let out a shrill scream.

Chain immediately looked over and felt her heart pumping in her ears. Leo was being pulled away from them by thin air as red sprayed like a geyser from Zapp’s arm. Both needed her help, but she could only help one.

“Blade Form Five, Piercing Dragon Spear!” Zed’s voice growled from below, a blood formed trident sailing past the werewolf and half conscious blood user, barely missing Leo and piercing something in midair. A small pterodactyl like screech made the buildings shake as black ooze dripped from the wound like blood. “Blade Form Two, Sky Slicing Strands!” The fish hybrid commanded the blood to transform into string, encasing the invisible enemy and squeezing tightly, forcing it to stop it’s retreat.

Chain let out a sigh of relief as she dove even faster, letting herself and Zapp land in the blood net. Normally she let whoever she saved fall themselves, but the idiot was really hurt, meaning she’d probably have to administer first aid.

“Zapp’s injured,” she relayed the information as her eyes saw movement and looked up, seeing Steven approaching the invisible creature from a distance.

“Lanza del Cero Absoluto!” Large spears of ice launched into the air, the first one sailing past Leo. The second one hit, then the last. A loud pop made civilians scream and take cover as black goo rained upon the city, Leo becoming airborne. “Zed!” Steven cried, but there was no need. The fish hybrid was already running at top speeds.

“Wind Knitting!” A vortex of wind left him and spiraled all the way up, catching Leo and slowing his fall.

“Chain, take care of Zapp,” Klaus said as he walked up behind Steven, his blood device glowing. “Zed, take Leo back to the office, tell Anila to activate the defense systems once you’re in-” No one could follow as their leader moved, his blood spraying in the air and sailing up towards Leo, quickly forming into a lance. “Stechende Blitzattacke!” Another wall of goop showered onto the city below as the attack pierced the enemy that nearly had Leo pulled out of the vortex. Zed cursed under his breath as he released the winds, catching the unconscious brunette, being sure to support his neck so it didn’t snap.

Leo was flushed and sweating, his panting hoarse and raspy. He wasn’t doing too well.

“These things are after him and he’s the only one that can see them.” Klaus’s eyes narrowed, determination literally flaring off him. “We won’t let him fight an enemy only he can see alone - not again. We’ll do our best to cover you.”

“Understood,” Zed said into his ear piece as he took off running, keeping the shaking child close to his chest. “He’s not doing too well, he needs a doctor.”

“I’ll see if I can contact Dr Estevez. She should still be in the area,” Gilbert’s voice came from the ear piece. “Just focus on getting him to the office-”

His feet weren’t touching the ground, Gilbert’s voice cutting to a loud insistent ringing. The grip he had on Leonardo faltered for a moment, but it didn’t matter, not when they were literally flying through the air like they were the baseball to a batter who hit a home-run.

“Zed!” Steven yelled, cursing as the Libra members helplessly watched their coworkers tossed to the other side of the city to who knows where. Was the fish hybrid even still conscious? Did he still have Leo? This reminded them of when Leo was saving that government official and Deldro and Hummer accidentally hit him back to the start when they were so close to the finish line.

“He didn’t drop Leonardo,” Klaus reassured, though his anger even made the citizens turn away from him. “Gilbert, is Zed’s GPS still online?”

“Negative, it dropped off above Ghetto Heights.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start our search,” Klaus said. “Zed’s pretty capable, but we still need to find them and fast.”

----

The wind was whipping against his skin like sharp needles as his eyesight went in and out, making him curse. His back felt like it was on fire, not to mention his side. The pain there was so sharp he almost forgot to breath despite it being familiar.

One of his ribs undoubtedly broken, and it was digging into his skin. Whatever tried to grab them seemed to accidentally punch them, an attack that reminded him of Dog Hummer and Deldro’s Plain Punch Revised attack. At least it put some distance between them; hopefully Leo would wake up in time to lend him his sight before those creatures caught up to them.

Their speed started to slow as they started dropping out of the sky.

The ground was getting closer-

Shit- he let his blood flow. “Crimson Orb Weaver!” The blood zoomed past them and attached itself to two buildings, forming a net. Zed let out a breathless cry as they fell against it, his broken rib shifting and another breaking. The ropes snapped as they morphed back into normal blood while his world cut to black.

#phage writes #kekkai sensen #leonardo watch #I kept the title as Turdday cause it grew on me XD seems to match the anime anyway hehe poor Leo #i literally have 24000 words written for this but i just keep getting stuck now that im like almost at the end so i decided to start #uploading it as separate chapters instead of just one long oneshot #like i originally planned #chapters are also easier for people to stop and come back to later

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