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physicalturian · 4 years ago

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[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 5

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 6269 Archive of our own

Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Stranger / Flirting / Aftercare / Awkwardness … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

You: Sup doc, got home safely?

[You sent an attachment]

I chuckled for a second, making myself laugh at the picture of the crazy scientist from Back to the Future I had sent. Then when I looked at it more than five seconds, I just regretted it. “I should have flirted. I should have asked him if he was free soon. But I did that. Wow.” Gathering my stuff, I was expecting him to be asleep but received an answer in no time.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’ll admit it’s creative real first text. But don’t send me that shit again, I’m not an old man.

You: Hey, it’s hilarious. You mad because you asked me to call you doc and now you regret it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I just hope you won’t see that in your head when you’ll think of me, it can easily become a turn off, I think.

You: Damn, what if I’m into older men?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Lucky for you I’m older, then. Why are you still awake?

Trafalgar Law 😷: You should sleep, it’s late and you seemed tensed the entire evening.

You: You’re worried about me? How cute, I thought you were just looking to dick me down.

You: But I’m going to sleep soon, don’t worry hot stuff, I was just showering before bed.

You: Who knows, maybe I’ll dream of you 😉

I read my message over, and over and as I saw him type and stop a few times I was quick to send another one.

You: Yeah, ignore that. I’m tired, I’m not pushy promised. But you should sleep too, beauty sleep and all.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Depending on the kind of dreams you’re having, I’ll gladly join you.

Trafalgar Law 😷: You’re cute. I’ll sleep in a few. I still have some things to do, I’ll be sure to send you a text in the morning to ask you what you dreamed of.

You: Right, bold of you to assume I remember my dream. And that I’d share them with you.

You: But please go to bed, it’s getting super late.

[Trafalgar Law 😷sent an attachment]

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m in bed, don’t worry.

It was stupid, but I did laugh. He was sitting against his pillows, the simple black bed panel behind him. His hair was a lot messier than usual, but he did not look sleepy one bit. And he was still wearing his dress shirt, which clearly was in no way a pajama.

You: Funny. You’re a funny guy Trafalgar Law, wow. You’re lucky you’re hot

You: You’re still fully dressed, that’s not going to sleep to me.

Trafalgar Law 😷: If you want to see me naked so bad, you have to work for it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I did say I’d enjoy you on your knees, it seems like a good place to start. But, all in due time, right?

Chuckling at his text, I bid him a good night without replying to his innuendo which was more than an innuendo, really. Hopefully, an unspoken promise of a goodtime. I left the bathroom feeling a bit funny inside and put the toy away before sitting back on the bed. I was wearing a large shirt so that I could show my legs if the HandSurgeon asked and sat with my legs crossed on the bed before typing.

Edelweiss: Back!

HandSurgeon: Your lap is pretty red; how does it feel?

Edelweiss: it’s alright, a bit sore but I like it, it reminds me of yeah… the discipline so yeah, it’s ok

HandSurgeon: Cute, you enjoyed it quite a lot. Maybe you could take more next time if you feel like it.

HandSurgeon: But it’d mean you’d have disobeyed, which you won’t do. Correct?

Edelweiss: yes, I won’t. Sorry…

HandSurgeon: It’s alright, doll.

HandSurgeon: Is there something you enjoyed more this session? Or did not at all?

Trying to remember the things he had said during the session, I was going to tell him that everything was good until I remembered that small thing he said, that I did not particularly enjoy. I didn’t know if he was going to tell me to just get on with it and try to enjoy it or anything but trusting he wouldn’t get mad I wrote down.

Edelweiss: I really enjoyed your voice… that’s for sure but I didn’t enjoy being called a bitch in heat?

Edelweiss: it was alright right now though, but I don’t know, I didn’t vibe.

Edelweiss: sorry if you’re more of a degrader than praiser

HandSurgeon: I am sorry, I am indeed more used to be a bit rougher with my partner. I’ll be more careful next time, don’t hesitate to tell me if you don’t like something I do.

HandSurgeon: This is an exchange, we’re both in to enjoy it and have fun. And while I usually degrade, I am very much enjoying telling you how good you are. Even more so seeing how well you react.

HandSurgeon: You did good telling me your color, very good.

HandSurgeon: I believe edging was not in your list, but how did you enjoy it?

Edelweiss: soooo frustrating! And embarrassing to beg alright? But in a good way I guess… a very good way

Pondering a bit more, I was curious. If we were giving feedbacks and asking questions, I could give it a go.

Edelweiss: were you annoyed? That I touched myself.

HandSurgeon: Yes. I was. If I had you next to me, I would have brought you to my bed. I would have had you kneeling in the center, with that egg still inside you. The had you stripped down naked and would have looked at you. If you had moved, I’d strike you down. Simple.

HandSurgeon: You’d be begging in no time, really.

Edelweiss: it does sound kinda interesting though

Edelweiss: I’d definitely be up to it if you’d enjoy it

HandSurgeon: I’m sure you’d take it like very well, adding a blindfold to the mix would be even better.

HandSurgeon: You wouldn’t know when I’d strike. Jumping on the bed at the littlest touch. Goosebumps all over that pretty body of yours.

HandSurgeon: Running the tip of my whip over your skin. Barely grazing it. Then gripping the back of your neck and sliding my fingers through your hair. Pulling your head back to see that needy face of yours.

I wanted to read more of him, see what else he’d do to me. I wanted to do something again. While my sex was sore, I could also feel the throbbing coming back and fuck was I ready to ask him if he had time to do it again. My body must have been moving on the screen, since I saw the new message from the dom.

HandSurgeon: Stop fidgeting. There won’t be another session tonight, doll. I have to finish working, and you…

HandSurgeon: Well, you need to eat something and drink some water. Go get some food. We can hang up if you want, or you can leave the camera on. I would not mind the little motivation of seeing my girl on the screen.

Edelweiss: I won’t stay long, I have classes tomorrow. Lemme grab some food, I’ll be right there!

Edelweiss: but admit it, you just want to make sure I eat and drink 👀

HandSurgeon: I do indeed. Now, go.

We then spent around 20 minutes on the call. I stayed with my camera on, still making sure he could not see my face, and ate up. He would reply a bit more slowly than during our session, since he was working, but when he did it was a lot lighter than usual. We talked of our lives, previous partners, preferences but it quickly turned to other topics. TV shows we enjoyed or had in common, hobbies, pets.

I learnt he liked to sketch, mostly people, he never did art school and never wanted to but loved the human anatomy. He said he found it fascinating. I felt flattered when he suggested we find some free time so that he could draw me. I told him I’d think about it, then we changed topics but kept off the more personal ones, such as family, school and city. The less we knew, the better. It was weird, getting to know him after I had let him do as he pleased with me. But doing so made it more interesting for some reason.

I did not feel anything much for the man, but I enjoyed his company a lot. I had no plan of meeting him at all, and if I ever found someone, I’d probably stop talking to him, which is something we both agreed on. This was just to get off, this was simply to both find that pleasure of having the power dynamic in play. It was interesting, and I never thought I’d be doing this but here I was, having hung up on a stranger I should call my dom. Here I was, exhausted after masturbating for him. Following each of his instruction.

Having had a taste of that side I had never ventured on, I realized I liked it a lot and I could see myself doing it more from time to time. Maybe not all the time, but in bed it was so intriguing.

I surprised myself as I laid under my covers, slowly drifting to sleep, when a thought crossed my mind, I wonder if Law would do that… I shook the thought away, but it came back just as strong, I was curious. He would look at me with the same look he gave me all night, intrigued and yet clearly expecting all those reactions of me. Knowing what he was doing, knowing the effect he had on me. Whatever I’d say, he wouldn’t be surprised, as if he could read me. He’d ask me those same questions he did that night, trying to get me riled up and I would let him. Would I imagine him as that man from online?

Would I secretly be hoping he would be that good? Would I let him do as he pleased with me? Was I even going to go on a date with him? This last question had an answer already, we both hardly had any free time. I don’t believe we had the same schedule either, it’d be too hard. But I’d entertain the idea, it was fun. I was slightly excited if it did happen, after all he was attractive. And I could use the kind of fun he was suggesting, considering all the stress we must both be under.

Turning in bed, I pulled my phone from under my pillow and texted Law.

You: You better be asleep old doc, because I am hitting the sac. And ignoring your last text at the same time.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Shall I take that as a “no”?

You: Definitely not, but I want to know if your personality is as hot as your face, first.

You: For scientific purposes

Trafalgar Law 😷: Luckily, I did pretty well in sciences. I’ll help with your research then.

You: That means I can call you partner? Pardner 🤠 in research of a fun time

Trafalgar Law 😷: Partner of fun, if you want. Pardner, no.

You: Dagnabbit, sad cowboy noise.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I think you need sleep, partner.

You: I definitely do, good night pardner. You should sleep too, you looked fucking tired tonight.

[Trafalgar Law 😷 sent an attachment]

You: it’s pitch black?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Because I’m trying to sleep, and you keep messaging me.

You: no one’s forcing you to answer 😏 but good night pardner

Trafalgar Law 😷: Good night

I did fall asleep soon after. It was a miracle I managed to keep the conversation that long considering how tired I was and yet I was able to exchange, albeit embarrassingly, with the hot guy. I did not know why I had sent him a message- who am I kidding I know why I did that. Not only was I in that post-orgasm daze but also, this little voice in my head kept considering him as a potential something.

That something was yet to be determined, booty call? Romantic partner? Sex friend? I did not know yet, the only way to find out was that date. And perhaps, if it went well enough, the after-date part. Which I was excited about, maybe more than the date part.

This time I did not dream of the HandSurgeon, I did however have a dream about Trafalgar Law. It was not as hot as the one I had the night before… But it was something…

In that dream, I had called him out of boredom while working on some stuff, and he had picked up mildly annoyed. But even though he was annoyed, he kept me on the line while making his way to his office and closed the door behind him.

Then the mood changed, the ambiance too, the lights got slightly darker and suddenly I found myself in his office. He was leaning on his desk, arms crossed across his chest and seemingly expectant. I saw myself approach him with determination, I was but a spectator to that whole scene. I stopped right in front of him and let him grab my hands before he pulled them behind his back and turned me around so that I was now the one against the desk.

The view changed and I could see him from up close now, he was looking down at me with a smug smile. I saw his lips moving but could not comprehend what he was saying. His tattooed hand travelled to my neck, gently brushing his thumb over it before grabbing my jaw gently. He spoke again and while I did not know what he said, I felt nervous, and slightly afraid.

I tried to ask him to repeat, and maybe I did but I could not hear myself. He leaned forward and let his other hand graze the skin under my shirt before whispering. “Edelweiss… my sweet and pretty toy. So good for me.” I let my head fall back in pleasure from his touches but the constant feeling of confusion and fear only grew. I tried to understand why I was feeling like that, among the joy I felt upon hearing his word. Then it clicked.

He doesn’t know about Edelweiss- he’s not that man, he shouldn’t know.

Now I’m in my bed. Looking at a screen, I can see someone on that screen, but I can’t see it really. Then I understand who it is, HandSurgeon, but this time it’s Trafalgar Law. “You want us to be the same.”

“You wish I was real, you’re so desperate for this to happen with me, with him, we’re the same to you, Edelweiss. You should think, wake up, realize that you’re making a mistake, wake up, we can’t be the same, wake up, you just want it so bad-“

“Wake up!” I was startled awake by Nami, who was looking at me angrily, already fully dressed. “Jesus, did last night tire you that bad?” How could she know what I had done last night? She wasn’t even home- Trying to come up with anything, I was too sleepy to be embarrassed, then she spoke and cleared my mind. “You know, if I had known socializing with Traffy would tired you that much, I would have brought him over a lot sooner. Maybe you’d finally catch some real sleep.” She explained as she kept her gaze on my, probably, sleep-marks adorned face.

Sighing, she pulled the covers off my form without a second thoughts when I was unresponsive to her words. “This time you have more than 5 minutes to get ready but move your ass or I’ll leave you there. Come on, hurry.” She stopped by the door and made a compassionate face, “By the way, don’t worry, he exhausts me too. It’s the smug face and the condescending attitude that just-“ she made a sounds with her tongue against her teeth, “it ticks me off, you know?” She was gone right after.

Looking at the doorway longer than I wanted to, I started drifting off to sleep when I was startled awake once more. My phone was ringing, and I was very much aware it was not my alarm. Stretching my arm to the bed table, I grabbed my phone and was surprised when I read the screen and saw it was Trafalgar Law. I picked up in confusion, “What do you want?” With the sleepiness and the confusion, my tone ended up being a bit more aggressive than I expected.

“How about you start with good morning?” I heard him chuckle, he was probably proud of that too. Rolling my eyes, I let my head fall back on the pillow and spoke again, “Good morning, do you need something?” I sighed and pulled my covers back on my form, hearing the blinker of his car in the background I guessed he was driving and was paying more attention to the road.

“Good morning, did I perhaps wake you up?” He asked rhetorically but I could hear the smile on his lips. All I did was hum in return, still waiting for the reason he called me. “I’m free this Thursday, how does it sound for those… research?” He seemed reticent saying it, probably rolling his eyes at how stupid it sounded. Laughing in my throat in return, it was not charming but the way he said it made it too funny for my dazed state. “Too shy to call it a date? I need to check my schedule; I don’t know if I’m free.” Thinking he’d hang up, I instead heard him talk to someone before talking to me again.

“Then go ahead and check, I’ll wait.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and rummaged through something while I checked on my phone, mumbling. “Can’t you let a girl sleep? Don’t you have a work to get to?” I opened the calendar but kept grumbling while doing so, “You’re lucky I’m not hanging up to go back to sleep.” While checking my schedule, I double checked if there was a time I could be free on Thursday and heard Law scoff.

He huffed a laugh, “I think you’d have hung up by now if you did not want to talk to me, I don’t think it’s luck, but interest.” Then a sigh as he got a bit more serious, “Just answer the question, I have to get going.”

Scoffing, I brought the phone back to my ear, “You’re just a pretty face for now, Doc. Don’t bet on interest just yet. Now, I’m free around 2 pm that day, if that’s cool with you. But add like half an hour or so, it gives me time to get back home.”

“Give me the address of your campus, I’ll come and get you there.” I heard the sound of the car door being slammed closed in the background, and the rustle of a bag. “I’m not about to refuse a car ride, it’s a bit odd but thank you!” I quickly sat up, suddenly feeling excited for my plans on Thursday. “Don’t expect me to be dressed all chic though, if I have classes in the morning, it’ll be comfortable and only slightly fashion.” I said lightly as I made my way to my wardrobe to start getting dressed for the day.

“Give me a moment.” I heard the phone being moved a bit, a few muffled voices greeting the man, footsteps echoing on the ground accompanied by the hubbub of phones ringing, beeping sounds and people talking. While waiting, I was able to get dressed and go back to my desk to prepare my stuff. After a few minutes, I finally heard him. “You were talking about your clothes, to be honest as long as it’s easy to remove, we’re good.” He said smoothly, I could hear the smirk, the smugness in his voice.

I simply looked at the phone with surprise and pleasantness. That was interesting to say the least, and I was enjoying it. “You’re not saying anything, I’m assuming you agree. Good, then I’ll see you on Thursday? Don’t be afraid to send me pictures if you’re curious about what clothes to wear, I’d gladly help you pick.” I had to stand my ground, he was too smooth. Too much, too flirty, too… familiar…?

“Just for that, I’ll wear the most intricate clothes I have. Make it worth your while, you know?” While his laugh was beautiful, it was also condescending. I kept having mixt feelings about the man. “Well, if I am in a hurry, know that I am very skilled with sharp tools, and I’d have no shame in tearing your pretty clothes apart.” The sound of the creaking chair in the background made me think he was probably leaning back on his chair. A quick thought crossed my mind, of going up to him and sitting on his lap and seeing what he’d do, but I shoved that thought away.

Instead, I huffed in response and threw my bag over my shoulder. I tried to come up with a witty reply, making lame sounds with my mouth, but I had no matching energy. Even less this early in the morning. “Alright, sure, you win. I was not going to wear anything intricate anyway, even I’m too lazy for that. Casual it is, so don’t go looking all professional on me, please. I’ll feel off.”

“Put it on my desk, I’ll be there in a few- it’s an important call, I’m sure he can wait five more minutes… He doesn’t have a choice, tell him to wait… Intern or not you can tell him to wait, how else do you expect to be taken seriously? … Well, tell him I am the one who said that, then, Tony... Right, now go- And close the door behind.” I felt bad eavesdropping like that, it wasn’t a conversation I was meant to hear but it did not seem like any important information had been shared either. Except the fact that he said this was an important call when it clearly was not. It sent pride to my chest.

Walking to the kitchen, I made a motion with my index to my lips to Robin and Nami when they started talking a bit too loud. I pointed at the phone, then wiggled my fingers before drawing an invisible circle on the back of my hand. I tried very hard to make them understand it was Law, but they seemed confused. Instead, I held my phone between my shoulder and my ear and spelled Law with both of my hands. This time they understood, I knew it from the huge grin on their face.

“We got interrupted, sorry about that. If you feel intimated by a professional look, I guess we’ll have to drop by my place before going on that date. Do tell me if you’d rather I keep the medical coat-“ Cutting him off, I needed to set things straight. “Hey, I never said that was my cup of tea, okay? And I’m not intimidated, I’m sure you’re rocking the look- “ I never sighed more loudly than at this very moment when Nami snatched the phone from my hand, and said, “Alright asshole, time’s up, you’ve had time to work your charm… no I’m not doing that”

Robin butted in next to the microphone and said, “She’s all flustered, Traffy, good work!” I went to grab it back from the ginger’s hands but the stepped back and exchanged a few words with Law before handing me my phone back with a bright smile. Bringing it back to my ear, I rushed back to the corridor to avoid them eavesdropping more than they did in the kitchen.

“Sorry about them- for your outfit, wear whatever you want. I truly have no say in what you’re going to wear, plus you’ll look hot with whatever you pick so, it’s a win-win.” I quickly said, earning a laugh from the man on the other side. “I’d love to see your face right now, Robin did say you were flustered. Guess we’ll have to wait until Thursday.” He hummed, his tone having some finality to it. I knew it was my cue to hang up.

“I wasn’t flustered, I- at best embarrassed- no wait that sounds worst doesn’t it? Anyway, see you on Thursday! Have fun at work, bye.” I waited until he bid me goodbye before hanging up. As I put my phone away, I leaned against the wall and sighed, letting my head hit the wall. “Are you okay?” Robin’s soft voice reached my ears, she was making her way towards me with a slight smile. Probably feeling a bit bad for going along Nami’s childish attitude only moments ago.

Humming, I gave her a nod. But the words that followed were not matching the actions. “He’s like, very hot. And I really want to fuck him, right? But he’s also pretty funny, and good at flirting?”

Squinting her eyes, Robin asked, “Is that a question… or?”

“No, no, it’s facts and it confuses me! I was ready to just, hook up, but he could be more- I don’t know maybe I’m desperate.” I simply shrugged, leaving a silence between the black-haired woman and me.

Looking up at her, she seemed to be thinking. Then she smiled, she was always the one with good advice but also a helpless romantic. “It’s a good thing isn’t it? You don’t need to worry too much, that date of yours will help you see if you’re really interested in him or not! If not, you’ll have great sex- if yes, you’ll still have great sex, and another date.” I groaned in reply, running a hand through my hair before giving her a short nod.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just- live my life until then, I have other things to do than think of a man. By the way are you home tonight?” I asked her as we walked back to the kitchen where Nami was nowhere to be found, there was simply a piece of paper with the words ‘bring your ass to the car’.

Chuckling lightly, Robin shook her head. “I have to stay late at the library. Then Franky agreed to let me stay at his place, since it’s closer.” We talked a bit as we made our way to the door, where she wave me goodbye before closing the door gently behind me.

When I was back in the car, Nami had one of her earbuds on and was talking more gently than she’d usually talk to someone. Which means she was talking to Vivi. I did not interrupt and instead grabbed my phone and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

HandSurgeon: Are you feeling better? Don’t forget to stay hydrated, I’ll be a bit busy this week, but I can find time if you’d like.

Edelweiss: shit, just saw your message! Sorry, crazy morning. I am definitely sore, but it’s good, I can move so there’s that!

Edelweiss: Also, I might be a bit away from Wednesday to Friday, I am seeing someone and knowing how our session leave me pretty sore, I’d rather you know…

Edelweiss: be in good shape

Edelweiss: for a good fun

Edelweiss: a good fuck

This time, I did not have a prompt reply. I put my phone away and it’s only halfway through my day, while I was working on something at the library, that I received a reply from him. I’ll admit, I had been expectant the entire morning for an answer. I had been deep in textbooks for so long, I was craving for any sort of interaction, from anyone. Which explained the speed at which I unlocked my phone to see the text from HandSurgeon, and even one from Trafalgar Law.

I hesitate for a moment, then opened discord.

HandSurgeon: It’s fine, you are allowed to have a life you know. Simply tell me if you want to stop this, or not, you know… if your someone is not the one and you still need a good fuck.

HandSurgeon: I will also be busy on Thursday, I’ll try to send you a text if I get some free time.

HandSurgeon: I just finished a long meeting, would you be up for a fun game?

I stared at his messages, feeling a bit excited suddenly. But knowing myself, I would say yes, so I had to answer to Law first before spending my time sexting the stranger.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m sorry we had to cut our conversation short, how was class? I have a bit of free time, if you’d like to talk about our research meeting.

You: That’s actually pretty cute, thought you were just a horny piece of meat but damn, you surprise me.

You: I am still on campus, drowning in work. I’d love to talk, but I need to focus, text me later? 🤠

Going back on discord, I felt strange. I wanted to say yes, to play his game, but it felt wrong for some reason. I was double texting and it felt like I was cheating on a man I was not even dating. I ignored the thought and typed back.

Edelweiss: I kinda wanna know, but also really need to get back to work. So, I’ll have to decline.

Edelweiss: But I’m curious, what was the game?

HandSurgeon: It’s quite alright, I was going to suggest you’d take a pretty picture for me no matter who was around. But you are busy, so I’ll leave you be. Focus on your work. I’ll talk to you later.

HandSurgeon: But for ‘emotional support’, I’ll give you this:

HandSurgeon : [sent an attachment]

I snorted at his words, and smiled when he sent me a picture of his gloved hand gripping the wheel of his car tightly. I did comment on wearing gloves while driving, even though they were not medical gloves and it had some charm, it was very movie-like. And suspicious.

After that, I put my phone down and got lost in work. I did not even see time fly by, what informed me that it was indeed a few hours later than I thought, was the grumbling of my stomach. “I think it’s time to call it a day.” I mumbled while packing everything up. With the books put back where they belonged and my laptop tucked away, I made my way outside and was walking through the parking lot when I saw a familiar mop of hair making its way towards me.

I suddenly felt self-conscious and straightened my back before meeting his gaze and frowning in confusion. “Are you stalking me?” I patted my pockets in emphasis, before saying “Did you put a chip somewhere, or-“ Law shook his head as if I was being crazy. “Bro, it’s super super sus that you’re at my campus when I never gave you the address-“

“I asked Robin. I was going to ask Nami but she wouldn’t have given me anything.” He explained as if it was obvious.

Looking around, I opened my mouth and closes it a few times. It was a bit awkward. “Why are you here, then?” I asked, still confused, my eyes squint in suspicion.

“Right- give me a moment.” He turned around and took a few long strides to get to his car and get something from the passenger seat before coming back. Even though his steps were hurried, there was still this elegance to it that I could not ignore.

“I am very familiar with long hours of studying, so here’s a drink and some food. I used to skip meals, because I’d get too much into it. Don’t do that, eat.” While what he said seemed caring, he was not smiling or anything. But the gesture was so sweet I couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s very nice of you,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear jokingly in faux-shyness before going back to a normal demeanor. “But I was going home. I was done for the day, here,” I handed it back to him before trying to find my wallet in my bag. “Let me, just- how much do I owe you?”

He stopped me from rummaging through my back and ruffled my hair before handing me the drink and food back. “Nothing, I was passing by. Now I am sure to not get lost when I’ll come and get you on Thursday.” He winked, then looked back at his watch a moment. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, before looking up at me. “Would you like me to drop you off at your house? I have a bit of time before going back to work.” He asked kindly, showing me his keys as if trying to coo me.

“Maybe you should go eat too? I’ll take the bus, it’s alright.” Smiling, the man pointed at his car with a certain pride. “Oh don’t worry, I got myself something too. It could be our first lunch date, you are so bent on traditions, so why not lunch?”

I felt my cheeks heat up and pushed him playfully, careful not to spill the drink I had in my hand. “I’m not bent on traditions, I just barely know you, doc.” I looked to the side and shrugged before walking past him, “Let’s get lunch.” I said over my shoulder. I heard the man laugh in the back, then the jingle of keys.

I tried to open the door but found it locked. I stated the obvious, “I can’t get in if it’s locked.” I was about to complain more, when he leaned over his side of the car and grinned. “Ask politely, and I’ll let you in.” I hated him, but the smile on my face was a betrayal of how I really felt. He was a little shit, but it was still fun. Rolling my eyes, I mimicked his action and rested my arms on the roof of the car, “Could you please unlock the car, doc?” “Good girl, was it that hard?”

I turned my head towards him so fast I may have pulled a muscle in my neck, but the way he said it made it a lot more than just a nickname. He was testing the waters for something, and I had given him the exact reaction he wanted. “What, do I call you daddy now?” I said sarcastically while getting inside the car and buckling my seatbelt while he held everything before placing them back on my lap.

“Not my thing, but I’m sure we’ll get to that conversation later.” He smirked as he put something in the glove box before closing it back and meeting my intense gaze as he leaned back on his seat. I was observing each and everyone of his action, feeling out of place in his car. I had met the man last night, but for some reason he felt familiar. Perhaps it was his aura, perhaps he was just that reassuring. No, clearly not, he looks threatening… “Something on your mind? I don’t know if you’re looking at me like you want kill me or fuck me,” Extending his hand towards me, he placed his index under my chin and lifted it, I quickly grabbed his hand like last time to stop him.

“Maybe both, maybe none-“ With a short smile, he interrupted me, “Don’t be like that, I’ll ask differently. Are you uncomfortable? I haven’t done this in a while, so I’m trying to take it slow…ish.” He admitted. I could see on his face he was feeling just as sheepish as I was. Clasping my hands on my lap I chuckled nervously, “I’m good, I was just…. Observing. You’re doing good, simply put…” I trailed off and met his gaze with a playful grin, “Ye’re a looker pardner,” I then tipped my non-existent hat, which made him laugh genuinely.

“You were just in awe?” He asked a bit surprised, hiding his bashfulness behind a laugh. “Exactly, take the compliment and don’t mention it again. Now drive, or you’ll get back late at work.” I huffed, looking at the window with warm cheeks. I felt a pull at my hand and looked at it confused, “I’d love to, but you’re still holding my hand.” I quickly let go and threw his hand back at him, “It was to make sure you weren’t going to do the whole,” Making a gesture with my hands in the air, wiggling my fingers, I continued, “Chin thing again.”

Even though he agreed, only giving me a curt nod along with a “Right.”, I could see the smile on his face as he started the car. Looking at him from the corner of my eyes, I matched his smile discretely as I looked back at the road.

The volume of the music wasn’t loud, I could hear the fabric of his coat as he maneuvered, the blinkers, my own nervous heartbeat. There was no reason for me to feel so nervous, we were just going to eat lunch then go our separate way. To try to calm down, I rummaged through my brain for topics to talk about, small talks was fun in social events but in one on one, it was a fucking disaster.

Do you have any pets? Do you like cats? Maybe talk about his job? How long did he study? Or funny topics, less social, more creative? Politics is off the table, it’s not that great of a first date conversation. What’s your favourite colour? What part of your body to your prefer-

I blurted out a question to try to fill the silence. And fuck did I regret it, I shouldn’t be allowed to speak when in that state, but it was too late. “So… what’s your favourite body part?” Wait, no, fuck, not…

[Part 6]

#trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #physicalturian #words of pleasure #wop #fanfiction #one piece #law one piece #law x reader #ao3 #ao3 writer #physicalturian AO3 #writing #writings

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f33itan · 4 years ago

Text

💛⚜️Pᴀʀᴛ 1: Tᴏʀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪs Gᴏʟᴅᴇɴ⚜️💛 (From my Wattpad)

A/N: Ok, this was something a mutual of mine said here on Tumblr, and I decided to write a oneshot about it. Might be very VERY slight angst, nothing bad enough to actually be put under that umbrella though, anyways, enjoy this, and ty for the reads! :)

CW: MENTIONS OF RAPE, DEGRADATION, AND MORE FOUL WORDS THAN USUAL. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

B/N: Your Mother's boyfriend's name

M/N: Mother's name

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

"Oi, Y/N! Go get me another pack of beer from the store!"

"Yes father!" Damn that pig looking bitch. I'm just some fucking girl, trying to protect her mom from this demon of a person! Heck, he's not EVEN a person! He's the devil himself!! Man, I wish dad was here...

When you were in about 7th grade, your real father got killed in a massacre a couple cities over. He was not only a police officer, but a great father and husband as well. He treated you and your mother amazingly, and you thought life couldn't get anymore perfect, but soon that all went down hill. After his death, your mother's health depleted and she felt empty inside. She needed somebody else to make her complete. She decided to call an old friend from high school, and next thing you know he moved in. He seemed like a nice guy at first, but soon enough he was beating you guys mercilessly, enough to leave large bruises and scars whenever you didn't do exactly what he asked, in your eyes though, it was more of an order. You hated being ordered around, but you hated your mother getting beaten around even more. It seemed like a blessing that he hasn't tried to rape her, but god knows what he'll do, he's unpredictable

With all of this happening, you decided to tell him you were doing some "extra curricular" classes in college, but what you were actually doing was taking the Hunter's Exam and learning nen. Your biological father was kind-hearted and fun to be around, but he was also strict and sometimes a bit harsh, though he always meant well. Before his passing, all three of you would go out on the weekends to train, exercise, or do something that would enhance your body power and brain power. Because of this, all of you were exceptionally smart, and bodies all well toned. Sometimes your excursions would be going to a park and practicing a sport, driving to the snow and sledding, skiing, snowboarding, and every once in a while going to another state to zip line, try animal encounters, or take a family friendly class in that state's heritage and customs.

Since you were accustomed to hard core training and events, you thought the Hunter's Exam was quite fun, and was a test to your skills. After that, you were scouted out by a strong nen user by the name of Biscuit Krueger. You and her had lots of fun training, and with her pushing your limits to the utmost best, you turned out to be a specialist.

(Whenever I imagine myself in Hunter x Hunter, this is always my nen type and stuff LMAO)

Your power was called, Black shadow. You could have up to 10 weapons on hand, completely subjected to doing your bidding. These weapons were linked to you through blood, and they were surrounded with a substance that appeared to be black mist. The weapons you most preferred to practice with and use were your katana, blood string, and scythe. You could also make a weapon yours by cutting a fingertip and letting the blood drip onto the weapon, altering the appearance then gaining that black "mist", showing that it was now yours. The downside to this technique was that those "shadows and mist remnants" were your sleep. The darkness in your mind and the shadows all around you were taken and used for that power. In turn, you were always tired, yawning, and had bags under your eyes. Another plus side though was that you had a nen created chamber that had every weapon you owned. A girl can have some fun toys, can't she? You had tools for torture (whenever you took an opportunity to try it), many varieties of weapons, and of course, more snacks. But unlike B/N, you didn't have just fatty snacks. You had regeneration potions, healthy snacks, and special nen created "snacks" to help with different things, which all of these you had collected through pulling some strings. Your mother was worried, but you said it was all just college things. Yeah, just college things..

Ill make that pig bitch pay for what he has done to my mother!

Feitan POV -or whats going on with him- :

"What time, is it.."

"8 AM Fei!"

"Shut up, green eyes, too loud."

"Oh Fei don't be rude! It's mean!"

"That's, the point."

"Oh wait, Shalnark, what this?"

"What do you mean?"

"This... gold string?"

"OI SHALNARK, FEITAN, COME ERE' REAL QUICK!"

"Phinks, what, do you, want-" Phinks just ignored his question and pointed to the TV.

This is Channel 12, reporting live from York New City Town Square. People all over the city are claiming to be seeing a string tied to their left ring finger, leading them to some unknown destination! What is this string? Who put it there?-

"AY AY IM ON TV! THE STRING THINGY JUST LEAD ME TO THIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL AND NOW WERE DATING! SUPER AWESOME!"-

I apologize for the interference, but this string appears t be leading people to.. partners? Soulmates? Find out tomorrow morning, this is Amy Starwick from Channel 12, signing out.

"What. The. FUCK."

"OH MY GOD OH MY GOODNESS HOLY SHIT FEITAN YOU HAVE A SOULMATE!!"

"Nope-"

"YESS YOU DOOOOOOO"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP CHEERY BITCH-"

"No❤️" Since Feitan was on his last nerve with Shalnark, he decided to stomp over towards Chrollo in the main room, but Chrollo just chuckled.

"Wanna go find your soulmate? See if that things real?" Feitan just stared at the ground, lightly shifting his feet.

"Go ahead, I don't mind."

"Just, doing it, out of, curiosity."

"Mhm, curiosity, go find them." And with that, he was dismissed. Feitan wanted to say it was curiosity, but deep down he had this feeling there was something else, but what was it? It made his stomach tingle and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to ignore all of this, and just shrugged it off...

꧁꧂꧁꧂TimeSkip to Next Day꧁꧂꧁꧂

Your POV + some Feitan POV:

"Alright, today's the day, he'll be at his work, and on his break, i'll set the plan in motion.." Both me and mom don't like him, and I don't know about her, but I sure hate him, every ounce of him. The plan is simple: 1. Capture mom's boyfriend, 2. Take him to an abandoned building, 3. Torture him and get all of the answers I need, and 4. Kill him. His break is at 12, and he usually goes to get takeout every other Friday, what a pig. I'll give him a taste of his own medicine.

Time: 11:30 AM

Ok, I have everything ready. Fully energized to the utmost extent, Elixirs to bring him back in case he passes out too early, and- what? He's leaving for lunch early? PERFECT! You ran behind some buildings and hid in a two-way alleyway, waiting for him to pass by...

Here we go..

One..

Two..

THREE!

You covered his head with a sack, and took his phone out of his back pocket. Before heading over to your post, you laced the inside of the sack with some sleeping powder and pressed it against his nose and mouth. Within moments he passed out, and you typed in what you hoped to be his password, which was correct. Around 12:30, you were going to text one of his coworkers that he would be "going to a restaurant across town, and ditching work for a day, not wanting to see his stupid good for nothing girlfriend or his dumb daughter." You knew he called you both this because of going through his text messages when he wasn't looking or when he was sleeping. Little did you know that somebody was watching you from afar.

"Hmm... So, she, my, what do people, call it.. soulmate? Seems, interesting..."

Time: 12:00 PM

"Jesus, I new he was a fat ass but I didn't know he weighed this much!" You were tugging him from his legs through the back ways of York New. You wanted to find a secluded area, where once you were done with him you could just toss him somewhere for the birds and maggots to eat. After walking for what seemed like hours, you came across a set of abandoned buildings, specifically the one you laid out some extra things. A couple extra weapons, some towels, a change of clothes, a chair and some rope, a couple of flashlights, and of course, some snacks. Lucky for you, the douchebag you've been dragging around like a rag doll was still out cold, so you picked him up and tossed him on the chair, tying his wrists, ankles and neck to the chair.

"Maaannn, this is boring!! When the hell are you gonna wake up?!" As if on queue, you saw his eyes start to flutter open, and you immediately grabbed your box cutter. It wasn't a weapon used by your nen, but it was quite effective.

"What.. who.. wait- Y/N!? WHAT THE FUCK?! UNTIE ME NOW BEFORE I BEAT YOUR ASS!!" you didn't notice it, but Feitan was watching from the building over.

What, the fuck? Why she kidnap him? That pig? Why? Confusing, gotta keep, watching.

You shoved the box cutter into his left cheek, and you bathed in the glory of hearing his screams of pain.

"How does this feel, you bitch? Everything you've done to my dear mother, everything you've done to me, and heck, YOU WERE PROBABLY BEHIND MY DAD'S MURDER DURING THAT FUCKING MASSACRE!!" B/N noticed the tears in your eyes, and took this to his advantage.

"So what if I was? Both of your parents were pathetic anyways."

"NO THEY AREN'T! YOU'RE THE REASON WHY MY MOTHER'S LIKE THIS NOW! YOUR THE FUCKING REASON FOR EVERYTHING SHITTY THAT'S HAPPENED TO ME!!"

"Heh, hehe.. hahaHAHAHA! YOU KNOW GOD DAMNED WELL THAT ALL OF YOU ARE PATHETIC! WANNA KNOW WHY I GOT WITH YOUR MOM!? BECAUSE SHES HOT. AND SHE HAD GOOD MONEY FROM YOUR FUCKING DAD. YOU KNOW WHAT I WAS GONNA DO?! YOU KNOW WHY I TOOK OFF EARLY TODAY?! I WAS GONNA RAPE YOUR MOTHER AND MAKE YOU WATCH, THEN KILL BOTH OF YOU AND RUN OFF WITH ALL OF YOUR MONEY!! AND YOU KNOW WHAT'S IRONIC?! I DON'T HAVE ONE. SINGLE. FUCKING. REGRET. IF IT WASN'T FOR YOUR DAD, YOU SOULDN'T HAVE HAD THE NERVE TO DO THIS, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABORTED!!"

You couldn't handle this anymore, tears were falling down your face rapidly as you grabbed the duct tape and closed his mouth shut.

"I don't give a fuck about what you say.. I'm going to kill you here. This is your grave. Someday, I'll join you in hell, and when I do, I'll torture you again, and the Devil will laugh. You just watch and ducking wait you, you.. PATHETIC WORTHLESS PIG ASS SLOPPY ASS NASTU FUCKING BITCH!" With that, you grabbed a couple super worms in each hand and shoved them into his ears. Even with the duct tape, you could hear his screams of agony as the worms dug deeper into his ears. You then got our your katana and slashed him across the stomach, and shoved even more worms into that open wound of his. Quickly, you poured a large bottle of the elixir you had brought over him to keep him from dying so quickly. Box cutter still in hand, you carved small lines all over his arms and legs, then ripped off the tape to hear his desperate cries. You imagined he wanted to be dead, but you didn't care. His pain and you pain mixed together and you just started laughing. You through your head back and let yourself laugh. all of the pain this man has caused you and your mom will be repayed today.

But the pressure and stress was too much to handle. Your laughing of victory soon turned into screams and more tears, as you let yourself fall to the ground, not even noticing you didn't hit it hard, something had caught you, or someone..

What the shit am I doing?

Am I really going to kill him?

What's wrong with me?

What will mother think?

What would dad do?

What am I doing with my life?

You soon snapped out of all of those negative thoughts though, as you noticed something caressing your face lightly.

"Rest, now. He, won't die, so quickly. I'm, Feitan." You were a sniffling and crying mess, so all you could do was rush into Feitan's chest and cry. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. He had no idea what he was doing, for he had only seen this kind of skin on skin contact in movies. So, he did what those people in the movies did.

"Don't, worry... It's all, going to be.. okay."

Word Count (Including author notes, etc) : 2251

-Wrote February 3, 2021-

Unedited sorry about that lol-

Part 1...

#hxh #hxh oneshot #hunterxhunter #feitan #feitanportor #pov #feitanxreader

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sebspocketsquare · 5 years ago

Text

Quarantine 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (online)

A/N: Heya guys! Here’s part 6! I hope you enjoy it, and part 7 is already written and will be posted sometime this coming week :)

Warnings: Flirting, language, quarantine, feels, fluff, some sad talk, talk of the freight car incident, insecurities

Today was the day.

This was it.

There were rules, of course.

The door should stay shut at first.. until you’re both comfortable.

And most importantly..

No contact… no matter how much the both of you wanted it.

It was the weirdest first date you were ever going to experience for sure, but ultimately the one most worth it, too.

He was bringing his own beer, and you had some wine left over from Sam’s delivery three weeks ago.

It didn’t seem like it had been that long, but then again, you had learned time wasn’t real in quarantine.

You get dressed in comfy, but cute clothes. Sweatpants and an off the shoulder sweater seem like a good idea, and after applying the lightest bit of makeup to your face you feel like you’re almost ready for this kind-of date.

Grabbing a few snacks, your wine glass and an unopened bottle, you set everything up next to the pillow you’ve placed right in front of your apartment door.

You were completely prepared.

He texted you forty five minutes ago that he was on his way, and he’s supposed to knock four times when he’s here.

You, of course, wouldn’t open the door, but it was enough to let you know he was really there.

Even though you knew he couldn’t see you, there was still a nervousness that lingered in your body.

Was it going to be awkward? Hell yeah. Were you both not going to know what to say at first? Absolutely. You just had to keep telling yourself it would be worth it.

You’re pouring yourself a glass of wine when four very soft knocks sound at your door.

Knock. Knock knock. Knock.

The pattern reminds you of a heartbeat.

Your own.

“J?” You ask through the door, and his reply is a nervous laugh.

“Yeah, doll. It’s me.”

You hear rustling for a few moments, the sounds of him making himself comfortable.

“I um.. I left you a cushion out there to sit on, so you wouldn’t be sitting on the ground.”

As soon as you say it, you hear a soft thump, surely the sound of him letting it fall to your doormat.

“How’s it going in there?” He wonders after a few minutes. The sound of him cracking open his beer can be heard, and it reminds you of the glass in your hand.

“It's um.. It’s good. I have my wine and snacks. How about you?”

He hums, and you take note of how it sounds different in person, rather than over the phone or on mic. “S’good. Just opened my beer.” He laughs softly before he speaks again, “Gotta be honest, I didn’t realize this would feel so..”

“Weird?” You finish for him.

He releases another laugh and a hum. “Yeah.. I’m sorry, doll. I just..”

“I know.” He just wanted to be there, with you.

“Just close your eyes while we talk for a little while. It’ll be just like we’re on the phone.” It was good advice, you had to admit, and though you weren’t usually one for taking your own, you make an exception this time to calm your erratic pulse.

Seconds turn to minutes, and minutes to hours.

Before you realize it, J has been on your porch for nearly three hours. You’re two glasses of wine deep and finally feeling your walls come down.. And hoping he feels the same.

“How are you feeling.. About this?” A simple question, yes, but you wanted him to feel safe, here with you.

A soft sigh is heard, and an even softer thud as he rests his head against the door that separates you.

“I feel.. Better. You were right, about the eyes closed thing.”

A smile graces your lips and you let your head fall back, too. You can’t help but wonder if it’s in the same space as his. So close, yet so far.

“How’s your wine?” He wonders, and you can hear the bit of humor in his voice.

He’s heard both of the times you picked up and set down the bottle, and you’re sure he can tell you’re about to be ready for a third.

You giggle, the sound involuntary as the wine has now loosened up your shyness. “It’s good. Think I’ll have some more.”

Another glass is poured, and you can hear him set his second can on the ground with a soft clang.

“Do ya maybe wanna play the question game?” He wonders, which makes a grin return to your face.

“You mean how we did one of the first times we talked?”

He chuckles and you hear a third beer can being opened.

“Yeah, I guess.. But that was 20 questions.. There’s never enough questions.”

“So unlimited questions, then?” You feel the need to clarify with a laugh.

“Well, sort of.. Until I have to leave.. And then we can pick up where we left off at our next date.” He stops, seeming to realize what he’s implied. “I-I mean that is.. If you even want there to be a second date..”

You find yourself wishing you could see his face when you give him your answer, “Of course I want to have a second date with you, J.”

He’s silent, so you hope he’s grinning from ear to ear. You’ll never know, because he decides to begin the game.

“What are you wearing to our date?”

The next hour and a half that passes is full of questions, giggles and outright laughter. You slowly get him to relax more and more, and it almost seems as if the door between you is disappearing.

You feel closer to him than ever.

Humming softly to yourself, you swish the last sip of wine around the glass. It had started to ignite a warm buzz under your skin, making you feel calmer. A little braver too.

“Tell me your favorite and least favorite thing about yourself.”

You hear him laugh on the other side of the door.

“Like.. personality wise or looks wise?”

It’s your turn to giggle, “Both would be nice, but.. I meant about how you look.. you gotta give me something, you know. I’ve spent ages trying to imagine you.”

He chuckles again, and then you hear him exhale.

“Favorite? I think I have pretty nice eyes. They’re blue, by the way. Don’t know if I ever told you that.. and I guess I.. I have a pretty nice uh.. build?” You hear him take another sip of his drink before he continues, “I mean, I work out a lot.”

All you can think of is that he may or may not have killer abs and huge biceps to wrap around you to keep you close, and you’re well aware it’s more than just the wine causing such thoughts.

“My least favorite..?” It sounds like he needs clarification.

“You know..” you pause, “your biggest insecurity.. I’ll tell you mine.”

“Okay…” He hums, so softly it’s almost inaudible. “I um.. remember how I told you I was in the army?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I was in the field, and I um.. I had an accident..”

When he stops, you find your eyes growing wider and your spine going straight.

He continues.

“I…I fell from a freight car and..” He hisses, and you can tell he’s trying not to tell you everything, just to refrain from crying. “The doctor who found me said I had two choices.. lose my arm or my life, and.. he made the decision for me.”

There’s silence for a few moments before you speak. “So you..”

“I have a prosthetic, now. Don’t get me wrong, it’s very high tech and I can do anything any normal person can, but.. I still have a lot of scars. They’re not pretty to look at.”

You’re at a loss for something to say because all you want to do is hold him.

He’s not a mind reader, so he becomes even more unsure about his insecurity. “Does that.. bother you..? That I’m not.. whole?”

He almost spits out the last word, as if he expects you to be disgusted in him, as if he’s any less of a man for it.

“No.” Your response is immediate. “If anything, I.. I admire you more for what you’ve just told me.”

“You don’t think the scars will bother you?” There’s a sadness to his tone, and you try to comfort him with the knowledge of your insecurity.

“No, I.. I really don’t. I know it’s not the same, but.. my biggest insecurity would have to be my stretch marks..” you finish your wine in a quick gulp, hoping for a little more courage. “I um.. I’ve got them on my thighs, hips, chest, some on my belly.. I don’t know when I got them really or why I have so many, but I do.. I don’t even feel comfortable in a two piece bathing suit anymore..”

He sits in silence as you continue.

“They’re scars, you know.. I-I know it’s not from anything super traumatic and not even comparable to the awful things you went through, but..”

“I bet they’re beautiful. I bet you’re beautiful.”

The words are soft, you almost don’t hear him, but it’s enough to make your entire body blush and tears sting your eyes.

The only thing stopping the two of you from seeing each other was four inches of wood and knowing that you couldn’t just open the door crushed your heart.

“I’ll make you a deal, J..” You start, chewing the inside of your cheek as you contemplate whether you really should go through with your idea. This wine was going to get you in trouble.

“Yeah? What’s that, doll?”

“I’ll send you a photo of myself tomorrow.. If you send me one in return.”

He releases a loud exhale, and not being able to see his expression has you worried that it might not have been from excitement.

“Really? Fuck, I mean.. You have no idea how badly I want to see you.”

Another smile? You could get used to this.

“Yes, really. Do we have a deal?”

A moment passes before he gives you his final answer, “I believe we have a deal, Clair.”

Shuffling is heard on the other side of the door, followed by a signature sigh. “I should get goin, babe.. It’s pretty late.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you. “Let me know when you make it home.”

You hear him stand up, so you do the same, setting your empty glass on the floor beside you.

Turning to face the door, you place your hand on the wood.

The barrier between you seemed greater than ever in that moment.

You can’t see him placing his hand in the exact same spot as yours.

So close.

Yet so far.

“I will.. I.. I’ll miss you.”

His confession makes your heart ache.

“I already miss you.”

“Bye, Clair.”

“See you soon, J.”

TAGS: (I wasnt sure who to tag, so if you dont want to be, I’m sorry!! Just trying to get this out there. ALSO if you wanna be tagged INBOX ME! I tend to miss people in the tags :( ). @mindingmyownbusiness @plumfondler @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @loricameback @tinaferraldo @geminimoonbeamx @preserumsteverogers @moderapoppins @lowkeysebby @buckyshattergirl @jayattemptstoruletheworld @the-observant-fangirl @moondancewrites @moonbeambucky @trinityjadec @stevieang @bionic-buckyb @eyecandybarnes @propertyofpoeandbucky @promarvelfangirl @ballyhoobarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @cate-lynne @witchymarvelspacecase @imaginingbucky @theimpossibleg1rl @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing @formulafun @curvybihufflepuff @fanficsformarvelkillme @shadyskit @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @reading–mermaid @fuckmestan @siliverin @verygraphicink @sallyp-53 @thatsbucknasty @steadyphantomcat @booktease21 @kiki5283 @lostinspace33 @drayshadow @theperditioncrasher @mmyepic @feelmyroarrrr@alien-beans @heartsaved @sideeffectsofyou @dreamingofonceuponatime @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @bluerorjhan @tarynsnotokay @jamdropx35 @turquoisekokiri @pinknerdpanda @starkrobb @marvelgirl7 @unscriptedtimetraveler @fangeekkk @wonderlandmind4 @pinkisokay @mrsdaamneron @rynabarnesrogers @wish-i-had-something-better @stanning-seb-stan @oilersgirl35 @vaisabu @paranoid-borderline-insane @bonkywobble @vikki-rogue @witchymegg @a--1--1--3 @margetastic33 @stuffandstuff-stuff @broken-hearted-barnes @elementec @thummbelina @booktease21

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #quarantine #online au #sebspocketsquare christmas #sometimes i write #bucky barnes fanfiction #series

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

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chambers - viii

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 4262

Description: post-endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Inspired by the Netflix series of the same name.)

He was there. And you were staring at him. He mimicked the way you were sitting. Hand over your mouth, slumped in one of the two armchairs in your room. Legs crossed. You’d looked up from the laptop that now sat closed on the small table and he was just there. Staring.

You wish you could say it felt scary. You should be scared. Was he a ghost? Was he haunting this heart that sat heavily in your chest? It was pumping the blood that now flowed through your body. Eric had said something right?

Head and heart intertwined.

He was haunting you. In more ways than one. Your mind drifted to Bucky. A text that went unanswered,

Wanda is missing. Are you okay?

No response. He did say there would be some radio silence but you’d hoped he was only saying that just in case. You’d expected, foolishly, to be replied to. It’d been two hours. Eyes were sore from attempting to hack into the files on the Avengers server. You were searching for Steve’s memory now, it’s not quite coming to you and is proving your endeavor to be very difficult.

“Tell me how.” You stated calmly. The soldier stared back at you, not answering. But as you uncrossed you’re legs he did too. As you crossed the other leg he mimicked, almost as if you were him. You were looking in a mirror. A perfect replica.

Hand removed from mouth.

Sat back.

Staring. Not answering.

You bit your bottom lip in nervousness, fingers tapping against your knee and he did the same.

Maybe you were crazy. Maybe this isn’t real. It’s possible. Who knows what all of those seizures had done to your brain. And now, while they didn’t show extreme symptoms, the shaking of your pupils and your slacken body in a memory was still a seizure. Just not as extreme.

Zemo.

It had to be fucking Zemo.

You didn’t know him yourself, but Steve has strong feelings about the man. You recall the security camera. Bucky’s vacant eyes staring back at you. A gunshot to the camera. Then pain. So much pain.

Tony.

Your heart panged. What a waste. The anger, the resentment, the stubbornness. You’d wished Tony could sit and talk to Bucky. A conversation they never got to have. Steve didn’t expect Tony to forgive Bucky. How could you? But Tony would have been willing to try. After all, how much Stark tech had killed peoples Mothers. Wanda was an example of that. And she liked Tony in the end, more importantly she forgave him.

That’s what mattered.

“Steve,” You whispered, “Please.” A buzz. A reply.

I’m safe. Are you okay?

“How old are you again?” Tony asked. A smirk on his face. You’d just met the guy. You’d just saved New York with this guy. Now you were watching him stuff shawarma into his mouth, taziki smeared on his lips.

“I’m 27.” Steve’s voice always sounded so terse. So formal. He didn’t get the joke. He never got the joke. It seemed like seconds later you were in a lab and Tony smirked, typing on what seemed to be glass. The buttons lighting up under his fingertips. Steve, you, sat awkwardly to the side. Watching him.

“Okay lay your hands on there.” A flat glass surface next to the keyboard. You watched Steve’s large hands lay flat on the surface. His knuckles had scars on them. A freckle on the back of his left hand. But that couldn’t be right, you had a freckle in the same spot. The hands were scanned, a cool blue light passing over them. His hands flickering to look like yours for an odd moment.

“Now your eyes,” Facing the screen you saw Steve’s strong jaw give away to your own, his cheekbones melting to yours, his eyes melting to yours. Until you were staring at yourself in the glass. Another scan.

“You’re all set up Cap.” The tech genius smiled at you. Your heart clenched heavily in your chest,

You were back. Blinking heavily. A shiver ran down your spine. The super soldier sat across from you silently. You slowly opened the computer back up, placing it on your lap before pulling the screen up. It came to you instantly. Overrides. Codes. Logins. Not even just yours, but Tony’s too. Had they been erased yet?

He nodded. Almost indiscernible.

You typed in three quick words into the keypad.

SGR—CLEARANCE LEVEL 0

and files. So many files.

Steve was gone.

Bucky Barnes hated field work. Clint, he didn’t mind the sarcastic asshole, but right now he wanted to throttle him. A perp, the guy they followed from security camera to security camera, strapped down in a chair between them. They were waiting for him to wake up.

“You gave him too much.” Bucky’s voice growled, fingers hovering over his phone screen. Don’t double text, Sam had warned him before, makes you look desperate. But desperate how? You weren’t answering him and he needed an answer. Now.

“If someone’s fat fingers hadn’t been covering the fucking side of the needle I would have known how much I was giving him.” Clint scoffed, taking a sip of the terrible motel room coffee. Bucky rolled his eyes. There had been a struggle, but in wrestling the guy down Clint had pushed the plunger down all the way instead of half. Now it would be at least another hour until he woke up.

Why weren’t you answering him? He text you four minutes ago. You had to have seen it right? Maybe you were with Eric, but he hoped not seeing as it was now well after nine pm and you were usually sitting in the living area watching some sort of movie or reality game show on tv. But they were usually there for that.

Peter.

He’ll text Peter. The spider kid will keep an eye on you. He draft a text,

Watch her for me.

Simple. To the point. The kid replied within seconds,

Y/N?

Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes again.

Yes.

Peter replied,

Sure thing Sergeant Barnes.

Good. Good. The kid will keep an eye and make sure Eric doesn’t cross a line somewhere. He wanted to do his own research on the guy. Sam has sent him a file not to long ago. One he scoured three times while the guy across from him slumbered on.

Eric was a first class Sergeant Master of the Marines. A Medal of Honor. Honorable discharge after the events of the blip. His story checks out. Wife is deceased. Passed away due to a plane crash, just like he said. New York City boy through and through. After the war he began working on bikes, he eventually got his house back where he now lives alone. He started going to the VA and volunteering at a homeless shelter on the weekends. The guy had a clean slate.

Too clean.

Bucky was just as suspicious as before, maybe a little more now that he’s read the guys rap sheet. The man across from him started to murmur as your text came in.

I’m okay.

Three dots. Then another text.

I know about Zemo.

The man across from him mumbled against the gag in his mouth. Bucky’s eyes dragging themselves from his phone to the man across from him, drool pouring from the corner of his mouth. Clint stood from his chair, sighing, placing his coffee on the table.

“Alright,” He said, “Let’s get started.”

What did Zemo want? You typed into the computer, the pass codes and areas to look coming seamlessly. Steve seemed to unlock something. Whether it was physical or mental you didn’t know, but you could do some serious digging now.

King T’Challa was tracking down old members of EKO Scorpion. He’d found two today, living together somewhere in Africa. Tanzania? A safari mecca. Why would they have retired there? Were they really two Sakovians running a safari? They were currently being questioned but no news yet.

Bucky and Clint had the other man who tried to assault you in custody. They were questioning him, but no news yet.

Wanda and Sharon were still radio silent. You’d heard the Quinjet take off a few minutes ago and you were sure Sam and Scott were on it, heading out to the JCTC. You’d text her not long ago, Wanda. Asking her to respond. Please. Let me know you’re okay.

Because maybe they ran into trouble, and maybe they’ll sort it out. You checked your phone again. No text from Bucky or Wanda. It was giving you anxiety. But there was nothing you could do about it. For now.

The morning found you exhausted, having spent most of the night waiting for updates to be loaded onto the private server. None came other than the notification that Sam and Scott had reached their destination.

A text from Bucky had been waiting for you once you had woken up from four hours of sleep, a simple…

I didn’t want to worry you.

But you understood why they didn’t tell you. Not because they didn’t trust you, but for this exact reason.

You’d always been very independent. Your Mom said as a child it was if you never even needed her. You’d always kind of found your own way, even as your heart began to fail. Maybe there was something in Steve, something in this heart, that was amplifying how you felt about this, and you knew that maybe you wouldn’t be able to actually fight Zemo yourself. Not like Steve could fight him. But you could help.

If he wanted this heart he’d have to rip it out of your own chest. But he didn’t want the heart, probably. Bruce said you had some sort of watered down serum right? You could do all of the things Steve could but your body couldn’t recover. Would it stand to say that your blood could be taken, samples of serum, and recreated? Possibly. Probably.

A mask was on your face, you were running on a treadmill in the lab, Peter Parker standing off to the side watching your vitals as Bruce poured himself another cup of coffee. The speed of the treadmill was steadily increasing. The little wires that are connected to the electrodes placed on your chest and temples bounced as you ran.

Your mind was racing just as fast as your legs were pumping. After this, after this test you’ll check again. You’ll go on and see. Maybe Bucky has text you again. You’d asked him for an update, hoping he’ll give you one. Then you’ll stop by to see Eric for a little bit.

“Alright, the cool down.” Bruce said, Peter tapped a few keys and the treadmill began to slow. It was specially designed for the super soldiers. Reaching upwards of 60 mph. Today you did half that, 30 mph, with seemingly no ill side effects. Your legs burning as a normal workout would. You chugged a bottle of water, stepping off the treadmill as results showed on the screen. Bruce leaning over Peter’s shoulder to look at them.

“How are we looking?” You asked as you caught your breath. Bruce nodded,

“Looking good, are you feeling any pain at all?” You kicked one leg out and then the other while Peter carefully removed the electrodes.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“This is so weird.” Peter laughed. You gave him a weird look, “Just like…” He stuttered, “You getting all of these enhancements from this heart y’know? Like before you couldn’t even live a normal life, and now you could run 30 miles an hour.” You smiled at the kid,

“For sure.” He smiled back, placing the electrodes down and turning back to Bruce.

“Lunch time?” He asked. Bruce nodded, still typing into the computer.

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

The swelling in Eric’s face was almost completely gone. He was set to be discharged tomorrow, then life would go back to almost normal. He was filling out an application to be a field agent. A recruit. He seemed hopeful.

“Is this really something you want to do?” You asked him, sipping on a cup of hot tea. He nodded, typing a few more keystrokes.

“You never really leave it.” He says, “I did two tours, now I sit around and listen to people criticize me because their car keeps making the same noise after I fix something else. I want to make a difference again.” Your phone buzzed on the table beside you, Bucky. Eric’s eyes were on you intently as you read the text,

Zemo is probably still here in NY. Stay on compound.

Your thumbs hovered over the keypad, before typing a quick reply.

Okay, have you heard from Sam?

Three dots, then they disappeared. Three dots again.

Not yet.

Was he lying to you? You sighed heavily,

“Everything okay?” Eric asked you. You nodded, not looking up from your phone debating whether or not to answer. You had to get back into the computer logs. You darkened the screen, slipping the device into your pocket.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You smiled, Eric shifted uncomfortably in his bed, nodding seriously before submitting the application.

“I think this will be good for me.” He said softly, “I’ve been lost since Jess died.” His wife. “Maybe this will help me get that structure back.” He looked at you with soft eyes, “Maybe it’ll help me finally move on.” A hand placed over yours and his calloused thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. You lay a hand over his,

“I hope so Eric.” He raises your hands to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of them. A knock on the glass and you looked up to see Peter gesturing towards his watch. The break was over. The heat on the back of your neck increased, not knowing how long Parker had been outside of the hospital room.

“If you’re not too tired tonight,” Eric began. “Maybe you can come down here and we can have dinner together?” A grin, dimpled cheek that made your heart skip a beat.

“Sure,” You smiled, standing from the chair, “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Sharon Carter was resourceful. The CIA agent turned Avenger confidant likened herself to her great Aunt in that way. Peggy taught her to be resourceful. “Men will underestimate you because you’re a woman, take that to your advantage.” Always. It was an unspoken plan, once what was supposed to be an interrogation turned on its head, that the two women would let themselves be captured.

Maybe they’d be lucky enough to be taken to Zemo. If there was a threat of death or injury they’ll rework the plan then, but for now they were just being held in the cell that the impersonator once occupied. Sitting. Waiting. Watching the impersonator, a bald man ones the subordinate soldiers were calling Markus.

Markus, was on the phone.

His eyes drifting back to the glass cage the two women sat in he spoke quickly in Zemo’s native tongue. Wanda was able to pick out bits and pieces, she knew he must have been talking to Zemo. Partially about their capture and partially about what to do next. He seemed… nervous.

“What is he saying?” Sharon asked, mouth imperceptibly moving, quiet, hushed. Wanda stopped her pacing, focusing in on what Markus was saying to the person on the other line.

“He’s asking if he should relocate us,” Wanda said, “Or if we should be terminated.” Her hands gripped her elbows tightly. It wasn’t as if the two women couldn’t get themselves out of this situation. They had been radio silent for almost 24 hours now, Sam would surely be on his way if he wasn’t already. But that aside they were more than capable of taking out the five henchmen. Guns or not. But when would be the right time?

A glint in his eye and he turned back to face the two women, signing off, “Hail Hydra.” And ending the call. Wanda’s brow furrowed. Hydra? There had been little to no sign of the organization since the fall of SHIELD ten years ago. Was this what Zemo was doing? Rebuilding?

“We gotta get out of here.” Wanda stated calmly to her friend. Sharon looked up at her from her spot sitting on the bed and nodded.

“It’s time to go.” The whole building went dark, the soldiers letting out a yell in shock. The building’s alarm lighting coming on. A red glow around the ceiling and floor as a shield spun out from the doorway, immediately knocking two men on their asses. Sam’s wings tight against his back, the red and white uniform stark in the dark room, he caught the shield and placed it on his back. Scott grew full size knocking another two down as the cell door hissed open. Markus backed himself against a wall, fumbling for the gun his counterpart dropped. Wanda quickly reached out, red tendrils wrapping around his body and flinging him unconscious across the room.

“Took you long enough Cap.” Sharon breathed, stepping down from the cell. Sam pressed a button on the side of his mask, the front peeling back from his face.

“Thought you had it handled.” He looked around the room where Scott was linking the goons up with electromagnetic handcuffs.

“We were just about to break loose.” Wanda defended, “He was on a call with Zemo.” She gestured to the man she was now pulling back towards them, pulling the phone from his pocket. “It seems as though Zemo is bringing back Hydra.” Sam’s joking demeanor suddenly turned serious, taking the phone from Wanda’s hand he turned it over in his palms.

“I think it’s time we have another meeting.”

“Do you miss them?” Peggy asked. Her head on your chest, fingers playing idly with the buttons of your sleep shirt. It was a silky thing. One she’d bought from Macys and had SGR embroidered on the pocket. You really didn’t like them, seemed a little too old fashioned when you were used to sleeping in joggers and no shirt at all. Your large hand grabbed hers, wedding band shining on your finger.

“Every day.” Steve’s timbre filled the quiet room, “I missed you though.” He shrugged, “I was going to miss someone either way. It just… this is what I always wanted.” Wasn’t it? Her soft lips pressed to yours, red lacquered nails scratching at your scalp as you deepened the kiss. Lips parting to breath she said,

“Do you regret coming back?” Silent for a beat. And then another.

“No.” But it felt like a lie.

It had only been two days since you’d seen him. Two days without Bucky. But once you’d heard he was coming back to the compound, that there was another team meeting your heart began to race in prospect of seeing him, hands trembling as you stepped off the treadmill the next morning. Everyone had gotten back last night. Wanda made a quick appearance in your room, just to tell you that she was okay and that you had nothing to worry about but you knew when she was lying to you.

You had a lot to worry about. But your main worry was hacking into the video and audio feed of the conference room during their meeting later.

“Hey.” It was like music. The raspy voice, the soft notes reaching your ears. You were still huffing a little, 35 mph today. His large figure stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets. The scruff on his face hadn’t been touched in a couple days and it sent a shiver down your spine. You bit your bottom lip,

“Hey Sergeant Barnes!” Peter smiled and waved from his seat in front of the monitor, “How are you today?” Bucky looked at him strangely,

“Uh… fine. Thanks.” Eyes moving back to you.

“Hey,” You smiled, walking over to him and immediately pulling him into your arms. He stiffened before slowly relaxing, wrapping his arms around your waist in return. “Are you okay?” You whispered. He nodded against your shoulder,

“M’fine.” A little sway side to side. A cleared throat behind you,

“Hey Buck.” Bruce waved as the two of you parted awkwardly. Bucky stuffed his hands in his pockets, giving the green giant a nod.

“How’s she doin’ Bruce?” Your heart skipped a beat and you tried to quell the excitement of his actual concern for you. You didn’t pay attention to much else in their interaction. The super soldier’s hair was too distracting. He needed a haircut. Maybe not a shave, but definitely a haircut. It was growing too long on the sides. His blue eyes met yours and you shake your head slightly to keep yourself from staring.

Chill the fuck out Steve.

You rolled your shoulders back trying to release some tension in them. “I’ll see you after the meeting?” He asked, going to leave the room. You nodded in response,

“Yeah,” You cleared your throat, “I’ll see you then.” He gave you a strange look, smirked and then left. A deep sigh leaving your chest as you looked back to Peter and Bruce who were pointedly looking at the monitor, “So what’s next?”

“So Zemo is trying to bring back Hydra?” Bucky asked, a chill down his spine. His left arm suddenly felt very tight. The nerves and gears locking up. Wanda sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes.

“It looks that way.” Sam paced the front of the conference room.

“What could they possibly do?” Scott asked, “They’d have to start all over infiltrating different organizations and--”

“They could have had sleepers already.” Clint offered. “An organization that big had to have a backup plan.” Bucky’s eyes darted around wildly on the desk, trying to recall anything that could be useful. His eyes snapped up to the surveillance camera, eyes attaching to yours through the screen. You wondered if he knew what you were doing or if it was just a coincidence. They continued on,

“I’m going to keep investigating what is going on here in Tanzania,” King T’Challa’s voice ran through the room, his hologram off to the side of where Sam was standing, “It would be foolish to believe that these associates have nothing to do with the revival of Hydra.” Sam nodded, agreeing.

“We have a couple of people here to interrogate, five to be exact.” Sam nodded to Bucky and Clint, “What did you get from your guy?”

“He was approached via video call, he said he never saw Zemo face to face.” Clint looked to Bucky before continuing, “Considering he doesn’t have fingernails at the moment I feel inclined to believe him.” Sam groaned, rubbing his temples before beginning to pace once more.

“We’ll interrogate these guys, see what we can get.” Sam started, “Hopefully one of these leads will take us somewhere, in the meantime--”

The screen behind him fuzzed, as did the screen on your laptop. It seemed to flip through different channels, before settling on one. A man. In a purple mask. He wore a dark coat and what looked like leather gloves.

“Zemo.” You breathed. The eyes. You remember those eyes. They stared into yours, no Steve’s, as he said there was a flaw. A bit of green in the blue of your eyes, if you remember correctly.

“Hello Y/N.” He addressed you directly, “I hope all is well and you’re feeling better.” He shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. “I’m going to give you something you want and in return I will get something that I want.” You brought your hand up to your mouth, unsure of what he’s about to say,

“You see, your life hasn’t been easy hmm? Your parents are poor, you’re swimming in debt in the medical bills that bankrupt them. This thing you’re doing right now, where the Avengers are taking care of you, how long do you think that’s really going to last?” His eyes were dead on yours. It made you very uncomfortable. Like he knew exactly where you were in the room as you placed the laptop on the coffee table and began to pace, maybe he did,

“I can make all of it disappear.” He offered, “And all I want from you is a little meeting. I just want one vial of your blood and I will change your life forever.” You could feel your heart stop. Blood rushing through your ears. “They don’t care about you.” A pit opened up in your stomach. “As soon as they make sure that you’re not going to die they’ll drop you right back off in your shitty little apartment to be forgotten forever. This is your chance to make a difference, to do something extraordinary for the future of mankind.” You stopped pacing, watching the screen with your cold hands on your face.

“You could change everything, just like I could change everything for you.” He leaned forward, getting closer to the screen. “I’m looking forward to hearing from you.” The call cut out and Bucky burst through the door to your room, staring at you in silence for a minute, but you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to do. What the fuck just happened?

“Y/N.” He panted, you could feel the seizure coming on, strong this time. But you didn’t feel your body hit the floor, because it didn’t. Bucky wouldn’t let you.

taglist// @nutellakirb @witch-of-letters @torntaltos @emotionallysalty @an-lover @lbuck121 @albinotigerpython @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @the-soulofdevil @tinmunky

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sebastian stan #chris evans #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #tfatws

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Happiness Isn't Here, Chapter 2 (Jan-centric) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Jan really wants to be friends with Crystal’s girlfriend, Nicky. Gigi struggles to comprehend her attraction towards Jan. Brita gets further invested in Jan’s love life and confesses why she was so drawn to Jan.

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It had been three days since Crystal had texted Jan, and Jan was getting frustrated at the lack of follow-up. She and Brita had visited most, if not all of the spots Crystal frequented, but to no avail. And now Jan was out for a jog, hoping to either clear her mind or have a breakthrough with a new idea. But all she got was a leg cramp and a strong pang of hunger.

There was a convenience store towards the end of the block, so Jan decided to do a quick shop. She wanted to get home right after and take a shower, flushed red and drenched in sweat from her run, she knew she must’ve looked like a hot mess.

Jan started to walk down the snack aisle, but instantly backed out and hid. “Oh, come on,” she whined to herself before carefully peering back into the aisle. Sure enough, Crystal was there and oblivious to Jan’s presence, much to her relief in her given state. “Wait, who’s that?”

A woman walked up to Crystal and wrapped her arms around her from behind. The first thing Jan noticed was that this woman – this unfairly gorgeous woman – was dressed entirely inappropriately for a trip to the convenience store. This woman was dressed for a high-end cocktail party, wearing a little red dress and black stilettos with hair that must’ve had taken at least an hour to style. She didn’t seem to belong in Missouri at all.

“Yeah, that’s Nicky,” a familiar voice pulled Jan from her thoughts.

“Fuck, how long have you been standing there?” Jan jumped slightly, putting her hand to her chest.

Gigi shrugged. “Not as long as you’ve been staring, I imagine,” she mused, then looked Jan over. “What happened to you? You look like hell.”

Jan huffed, crossing her arms with a pout. “I went on a run, thank you very much. I did a whole… half a mile.”

“Oh shit, didn’t realize you were training for a triathlon,” she teased.

“You too?” another woman, presumably one of Gigi’s friends, chimed in out of seemingly nowhere. “What’s your routine? I’m pretty sure I’ve got mine down, but-”

“It was a joke, Kameron,” Gigi cut her off.

Kameron wasn’t alone either, as a shorter brunette joined her side. “Who’s your friend, Gigi?” she asked. “This the girl from the party you was talkin’ about?”

Jan smirked as she looked from Gigi’s friends back to her. “You were talking about me?” she asked, twirling her ponytail around her finger.

“Never,” she retorted dryly. “Jan, let me introduce you to two friends, one brain cell. This is Kameron and Vanessa.”

“Vanjie.”

Gigi rolled her eyes. “She goes by Vanjie.”

Jan offered the two of them a bright smile. “So nice to meet you guys,” she said, though her attention started to shift when she heard the click of high heels on linoleum getting louder and the conversation between Crystal and Nicky entered earshot.

“Who’s the sweaty girl with Gigi?” Nicky asked with perturbed confusion.

“What?” Crystal looked where her girlfriend was pointing. “Jan?”

“You know her?”

Crystal swallowed thickly, her eyes darting back and forth between Nicky and Jan. “No! I mean yes. I mean… kind of?”

“Kind of?” Gigi chimed in. “I thought you guys were friends.”

“We are,” Jan jumped in to assure. “It’s just been a while since we saw each other at summer camp,” she explained, happy to be able to tell the truth. “It’s been a while, we were–”

“Ten!” Crystal abruptly cut in. “That’s why the details are a little hazy, you know? It’s been so long.”

Jan furrowed her brows and looked at Crystal with a mix of hurt and confusion on her face. She tried to meet her eyes, hoping she’d explain, but to no avail – Crystal wasn’t looking at her at all, her eyes were fixed on Nicky.

Nicky did look skeptical, though she didn’t say so. “Well, you did smoke away most of your brain cells, I guess that makes sense,” she decided, watching as her girlfriend’s entire body relaxed in relief. Then her attention shifted to Jan, whom she offered a polite smile. “So nice to meet you,” she said, offering her hand out – not to shake, it was more like she was presenting it on display.

Not that Jan questioned it; she surmised that it fit the way Nicky carried herself. “The pleasure’s all mine,” she chirped, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“What is it that you do?” Nicky questioned as she looked her over.

“Jan’s a lawyer!” Crystal jumped in yet again, though this time it appeared to be in Jan’s defense. “You just started at a firm out here, right?”

Jan nodded, ignoring the way her chest was still aching. “Yeah, it’s been going super well so far. What about you, Nicky?”

“I am a professional hairstylist,” she answered stiffly. “I do Beyoncé’s personal trainer’s sister’s hair, it’s very high-profile.”

Both Gigi and Crystal, with slight grimaces, had opened their mouths to say something, but Jan cut right in. “Really? Oooh, how fun! You should totally let me know if you’re ever taking new clients.”

Crystal winced and once again tried to interject, but Nicky answered before she could. “I do think I can fit you in, as a courtesy at least. Since you are a friend of Crystal’s,” she told her, then rifled through her purse until she pulled out a business card and handed it to Jan.

While neither Jan nor Nicky had noticed how Crystal was stressing out and Kameron and Vanessa had long since wandered off, Gigi noticed and cocked her head to the side so Crystal would follow her down the next aisle. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” Crystal insisted. “I just… don’t think it’s a good idea for Jan and Nicky to be friends. You know how she gets.”

“I guess,” Gigi shrugged. “But Jan seems pretty non-threatening, it’s not like you guys fucked or anything, right?”

She swallowed thickly. “Right. Because we only knew each other as kids and that would be weird,” she reminded herself, not wanting to forget the lie she’d established.

Her friend was dubious, but allowed it to slide. “So… Jan is definitely available, then?”

Crystal’s eyes lit up, this was perfect. “She is. Are you into her, Geege? Because you should ask her out, she’s great. And you’re great. So it would be, you know, great.”

Gigi shrugged, glancing down. “I dunno,” she told her, though a slight smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe.”

Before Crystal could argue her case further, Nicky rounded the corner. “Crystal, come on, we’re gonna be late,” she whined.

“We better go,” Crystal said to Gigi. “But think about what I said.”

——

Jan looked at her phone – 12:48 pm. She was a bit early for her hair appointment, by no accident. As soon as she stepped inside, she wanted to try to fit in a bit of a tour.

The salon reminded Jan of the one she would visit during the winter break she had spent in Beverly Hills. It was clean and chic and everyone who worked there could’ve moonlighted as a Victoria’s Secret model. Normally, she wasn’t intimidated by that, but she found herself cutting her tour short as anxiety started twisting her stomach into knots. Sure, she was used to the high-end life, but that didn’t make her ‘cool’. Jan didn’t know how to be cool – her ideal Friday night consisted of Chinese food, a bottle of wine, and her library of bootleg musicals.

But Nicky? Nicky oozed cool out of every invisible pore. It sent Jan back to her middle school days when she would see the popular kids and silently yearned to unlock the secrets to social acceptance. And while thirteen-year-old Jan had found the answer when she started high school without braces and with newly-developed D-cups, things were far less simple in adulthood.

“Jan?” The girl at the front desk pulled her back into reality. “You can go ahead and take the middle chair. Nicky will be right with you.”

Jan nodded and thanked her as she moved to take her seat. By the time Nicky made her way over, her racing thoughts had slowed to a walking pace, something she was eternally grateful for.

“Your hair is so thick and smooth,” Nicky observed, a hint of surprise in her tone. “You’re Italian?”

“Half Italian, half Jewish,” she confirmed. “Lots of hair on both sides.”

“I could tell from your arms,” she remarked offhandedly, but by then she was massaging shampoo into Jan’s scalp, rendering her too blissed out to register the comment.

Jan was entranced almost instantly, and she understood why Nicky worked at the only salon in Springfield with a near five-star rating. She had gotten actual massages that were less satisfying, and she was already certain she would be happy with any final result. “So, how long have you and Crystal been together?” she asked after a brief silence, curious as to how her answer would compare to Gigi’s.

“Since I moved here in the tenth grade,” Nicky answered. “Not consistently, but that isn’t the important thing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re together now,” Jan murmured through gritted teeth, regretting bringing it up in the first place and deciding to change the subject. “This place is so nice, how long have you worked here?”

Nicky was too focused on Jan’s hair to notice the shift in tone. “About a year and a half, I cannot complain, but the goal is to open my own salon. I even think I can poach some of these girls to come with me,” she told her. “But securing a space is impossible.”

“I work in real estate law, you’re preaching to the choir,” she nodded, though her mind was already doing a speedrun of ideas. This was the ‘in’ she needed, how she could win Nicky’s favor and be her friend.

The comment didn’t connect the dots for Nicky, who finished Jan’s hair and spun her around. “And we’re done, what do you think?”

Jan gasped, her eyes bright and wide. It wasn’t an act, she was genuinely impressed with what Nicky had done. She had only trimmed a couple of inches off, but the styling was pristine, she never wanted to wash her hair again because she was afraid she could never get it back to this. “It’s gorgeous, oh my God.” As she got up and paid her, she added “Don’t stop thinking about getting your own salon, in fact, text me the info about the space you’re trying to secure,” with a wink.

Nicky’s intrigue outweighed her trepidation. “I guess you can give it your best shot, then. Landlord’s a real asshole, though.”

——

Brita eagerly led Jan into an empty conference room and set a folder down on the table. “Okay, so, what’s the plan? Before you say anything, I already looked it up and we can’t deport her to France unless we frame her for murder.”

Jan shut the door behind her and rushed to Brita’s side with concern and confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? No one’s being deported or framed for murder or… seriously, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Isn’t that what you were up to at your little hair appointment? Getting close to Nicky to find her weaknesses and exploit them to get her out of the picture? Everyone overshares at hair salons, it’s just how it works,” she explained as she opened the folder up. “I printed out all of the important social media posts dating back from when she started dating Crystal.”

“Brita, that’s eleven years’ worth of posts!”

She scoffed. “And? Do you want your happy ending with Crystal or not? Nicky is an obstacle in your way, she is the enemy.”

Jan rolled her eyes. “I don’t want her to be the enemy. I like her. She’s so cool and pretty and she smells nice and–”

Brita grabbed Jan by the shoulders and shook her. “Listen to yourself! This isn’t the Jan and Nicky love story, it’s the Jan and Crystal love story. The last thing you need to do is go all starry-eyed over, and I cannot stress this enough, Crystal’s girlfriend.”

“Okay, so, I get that you wanna help and I really appreciate it, but I promise I totally have this under control. You keep working on your plans, I’m sure they’re great.”

She sighed and let go of Jan. “I’m sorry, I know I’m intense and everything, but I just really like you and want to help you. I’ve always wanted a daughter, you know? I have a fourteen year old son, and he’s an asshole.”

Jan’s expression softened. “Aw, I didn’t realize… but that’s sweet, and it’d be nice to have a mother figure that isn’t massively disappointed in me right now. Don’t ask, it’s a story for another day.” Ideally that day would never come, but she didn’t expect Brita to let her off the hook on that either. “On that note, um, don’t get mad, but I’m getting brunch with Nicky tomorrow. But it’s a business brunch.”

“A business brunch?” Brita looked at her skeptically.

“I’m helping her get her own salon. The landlord’s a jerk but he’s only like, a four out of ten compared to what I’ve dealt with. And…” she strummed her fingers against the table as she tried to think on her feet. “Think of it this way – if she’s busy at her own salon, she’ll have less time with Crystal.”

Brita beamed and cupped Jan’s face, squishing her cheeks. “There’s that Harvard-Columbia brain at work, I knew you had a plan. You didn’t need to worry me like that, missy.”

Jan pressed her lips into a fine line and nodded. “It won’t happen again.”

——

Jan tried to keep her conversation with Brita in mind when she was out to brunch with Nicky, she really did put in an effort. But then she found out mid-mimosa that they got the location for the salon and Nicky showered her with gracious praise and it all went out the window. Jan’s latent praise kink and overwhelming desire to win Nicky over was more than enough to keep her from heeding Brita’s warning.

So, it didn’t end at business brunch. They wound up back at Jan’s house, talking, laughing, drinking, as if they had been friends this whole time. And Jan was becoming more and more convinced that in the end, she could have the best of both worlds – she could have Crystal as her girlfriend and Nicky as her bestie. There was no downside in that, right?

“Have you heard of The Nebula?” Nicky asked as she set the glass down on the coffee table, “It’s this cool, exclusive club downtown. Crystal and I were planning on going tomorrow night, you should come.”

Jan nearly spilled her drink with how quickly she perked up. She almost couldn’t believe this had worked so well and so fast. “Really? Oh my god, yeah, that’d be so much fun. I am such a club girl.”

“You’re so fun,” Nicky giggled, resting her head on Jan’s shoulder. “I love how fun you are, we’re gonna have the best time ever. You’re totally not the cunty east coast bitch I thought you’d be.”

“Aw, thank you!” Jan hugged Nicky from the side.

Nicky had ended up staying into the late afternoon, waiting until she was sober enough to take care of some things at the salon, but happily reminded Jan several times over that they would be going to The Nebula the next day at nine.

——

“Alright, are you gonna tell me what’s on your mind or not?” Crystal prompted as she watched Gigi absentmindedly clean the same glass for the third time.

Gigi looked up, finally putting the glass away and tossing the towel over her shoulder. “You know damn well I try to keep my head empty at any given moment.”

Even though Crystal might have agreed at times, she wouldn’t take that as an answer. “Come on, you’ve been weird ever since we all ran into each other at the store the other day.”

“I just…” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “What’s her deal, anyway?”

“Who?”

“Jan.”

Crystal smirked. “See? I knew you liked her. You never act like that around girls like you did at the store. I don’t know what the hold-up is, she’s cool.”

Gigi snorted. “Cool isn’t the word I’d use, babe,” she retorted dryly, then added, “you sure she’s not into you?”

“What? Of course not. I told you already, we were kids, remember?” Despite how comically suspicious her voice was, Gigi didn’t push her any further, so she continued. “Hey, Jan’s coming with us to Nebula tonight. You should come, it could be like a cute double date.”

After a bit of hesitation, Gigi nodded. “Yeah, alright. My shift ended ten minutes ago anyway, I just gotta get home and change.”

The four of them met at Jan’s house, as she lived the closest to downtown, and took an Uber (Jan happily upgraded them to the best option) to the club. Considering they were four attractive women in mini dresses, they were granted entry easily and went right to ordering rounds of drinks.

It only took a few drinks to get Crystal and Nicky on the dance floor, giggling and grinding to the beat. But Nicky stopped after a couple minutes when she realized Jan and Gigi were still lingering awkwardly at the table, and simply had to remedy that. She jogged back to the table and grabbed both of them by the arm. “Come on, Jan, dance with Gigi,” she insisted, pushing them together.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” Jan admitted as she draped her arms around Gigi’s neck. “This doesn’t seem like your scene. Like, you probably think the music is too generic and the drinks are too sweet.”

“Well, both of those things are true.” Gigi rested her hands on Jan’s waist, the two of them doing the bare minimum to count as dancing. “But Crystal dragged me out and I thought it might be fun to watch you get drunk and make an ass out of yourself.”

Jan scoffed. Sure, she was a lightweight and already tipsy, but she thought she could ignore it if she tried hard enough. “Why don’t you get me another drink then, Captain Cynical?”

“Oh, I’m a captain? Here I thought I was just Lieutenant Cynical,” she teased, then let go of her to go to the bar.

While Jan was waiting, Nicky came back over and pulled her to dance with her and Crystal. “You and Gigi look good together,” Nicky remarked.

“You’d look good with anyone,” Jan mused playfully. “Oh my god, if we hooked up, we’d all be even!” She gasped, gesturing between the three of them and giggling at what she thought was a funny observation.

But Nicky and Crystal all but froze in their tracks. “What do you mean by that?”

Jan glanced at Crystal, suddenly remembering the lie she’d helped commit to. “I just, um…” To her relief, Gigi had rejoined them at that moment. “Oh good, you’re back!” She quickly took the drink and started to down it.

“No, no, tell me what you meant by that,” Nicky insisted.

Realizing she had been caught, Jan thought the only option was to tell the truth. “I meant, well, you and Crystal are together, and we, um… used to be…”

“You both said you weren’t,” Gigi cut in. “You both insisted you weren’t. What the fuck?”

“I just didn’t wanna make things weird!” Crystal defended. “But… yeah… Jan and I were actually sixteen when we met and um… did stuff.”

Nicky’s face reddened with anger. “I can’t believe you both lied to me!” She turned to Crystal. “We are leaving and will be talking about this. And you,” she turned to Jan, “just stay away from us.”

Although Jan tried to object and plead her case, Nicky was already storming out of the club with Crystal in tow, leaving her alone with Gigi. “Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.”

“For a Harvard-Columbia grad, you’re kind of stupid, aren’t you?”

Jan pouted and nodded.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Jan nodded again.

Gigi wrapped her arm around Jan’s shoulders and walked her out of the club and got into an Uber with her once it arrived.

The ride was quiet, enough so that by the time they arrived at Jan’s house, she was asleep with her head in Gigi’s lap.

Being rail-thin and fragile looking in comparison, Gigi struggled carrying Jan into the house and placing her on the couch. “God, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” she muttered to herself before taking the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over Jan.

Just as Gigi was in the middle of contemplating if she should stay or leave, Jan started to wake up. “Ah, it lives.”

Jan looked around, slowly realizing that she was on her couch, and that Gigi tucked her in. She pushed herself to sit up a bit. “Um… thank you, you know, for helping me in. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, I know you’re probably pissed at me too.”

“Oh, I am,” Gigi readily assured. “But you look like a sad baby deer, so I can’t just abandon you, I guess,” she decided. “You need help getting to bed, Bambi?”

“Please,” Jan mumbled. The two of them went upstairs and Jan stepped into the bathroom to get changed and wash her face. Then once again, Gigi tucked her into bed.

Once Jan was sound asleep, Gigi went downstairs and crashed on the couch. But she woke up early in the morning and left without a trace. Without the alcohol softening her heart, she found herself mad at the fact that she so easily overlooked what Jan did in favor of taking care of her. And what was worse was that she still liked her.

When Jan woke up, she went downstairs, only to find her house empty. She felt a pang of disappointment, only to perk up at a knock on the door. “Gigi?” No answer, so with another wave of hopefulness she asked “Crystal?” as she opened the door.

“How funny, Gigi and Crystal are exactly who we need to talk about,” Brita huffed as she walked inside. “You are skating on thin ice,” she warned, walking Jan to the couch and sitting down. “What happened last night?”

Jan sighed. “Nicky found out Crystal and I were together and now she hates me and Gigi took me home. That’s it.”

Brita pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was afraid of this,” she muttered and took a deep breath. “It’s fine, we just need a new plan.”

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #crystal methyd #gigi goode #brita filter #nicky doll #brooke lynn hytes #kameron michaels #vanessa vanjie mateo #gigi x jan #crystal x jan #crystal x nicky #lesbian au #s12 #joley #happiness isnt here #rare pair

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 4 years ago

Text

the one with my favorite martian

AKA: J’onn’s intro the CAK ‘verse

*insert itsbeeneightfouryears.gif here* ...

THEN

It's her first big story.

The article runs on the front page of the business section—under the fold, sure, but still fairly prominent. The bold, black text of the headline runs half the width of the page, as does the large candid photo that accompanies the write-up. Kara's certain that the photo accounts for at least 70% of the attention the article has received over the course of the current news cycle; it's perfect. A shot that walks the fine line between candid and staged, capturing an otherwise unremarkable lab space and about a dozen lab techs on the move, dynamic as they go about their routine tasks, but at the center?

Dr. Kimiyo Hoshi, effortlessly commanding the room, unflappable and somehow radiant, in spite of the terrible fluorescent lighting.

Kara makes sure to highlight it at every opportunity. As her coworkers drop by her desk, offer congratulations, give her hearty slaps on the back (that result in more than a few confused murmurings—geez, Kent, you got...a solid shoulder there) she points to the photo, and reminds them, a picture's worth a thousand words. A response that charms a few of the staff writers, but incenses Perry.

“It's a good article, Kent. Wouldn't have run it on the front of the section if it wasn't,” he says with an almost paternal huff of exasperation. “Stop deflecting and just say, 'thank you.'”

So Kara does, if only to keep peace with her boss. It bothers her, though, to be so firmly in the spotlight for any length of time. It pokes at a wounded part of her—whatever part might've been happy to receive accolades, and recognition, prior to arriving on an alien world where she could be hurt, where Kal could be hurt, if anyone ever got too close to them. To the real them.

It's only when she's back home with Martha, Jonathan, and Kal that the praise is not immediately met with a level of discomfort. Though, it is a little embarrassing.

“On the fridge? Really?” Kara laughs as she reaches for the milk carton.

“Well, she wanted to hang it up on the bulletin board at the rec center,” Jonathan tells her from his seat at the kitchen table. “I had to talk her down. Bribed her with brand new magnets.”

“Aren't they cute?” Martha smiles at the updated collection. Kara has to agree that yes, the little plastic fruits are cute.

Kal, at least, is less concerned with telling her how great the article is, and more concerned with how professional journalism works. He wants to know everything. The questions last well into the evening; all four of them end up staying up late, comfortably gathered in the living room. Kal's in his usual place, sprawled on the rug, Jonathan in the recliner, Martha and Kara on the couch. It's only when Jonathan starts snoring at an octave unpleasant for Kryptonian super-hearing that they decide to call it a night.

“Put out fresh sheets,” Jonathan tells her through a yawn as he makes his way up the stairs. Both Jonathan and Martha keep insisting that they're eventually going to get around to turning Kara's room into...something. (Guest room and/or office are the prevailing front runners, though 'craft room' and 'home gym' have also been tossed around, on occasion.) The only proof that they've made any sort of progress is the handful of boxes in the back of her closet, otherwise it remains unchanged.

“Thanks,” Kara says, as Kal trails close behind Jonathan. She's about to follow, when the phone rings in the kitchen.

Martha answers. Several seconds pass, and then, from the doorway,

“Kara? It's for you.”

Kara blinks in surprise; she has no idea who it could be. Not any of her coworkers—she's made a point not to mention her routine weekends trips back home—she'd never be able to explain where she gets the money for 'airfare.' And she doubts it's anyone from town—the median age in Smallville is about fifty, and therefore, almost everyone's in bed by eight.

She accepts the receiver from Martha, but not before raising her eyebrows, hoping she can provide some sort of guess as to who it is.

But Martha shakes her head; she doesn't know.

“...Hello?”

“Kara?”

It takes Kara a moment to place the voice, distorted as it is by the phone. “Dr. Hoshi!” she says, both by way of greeting, and in answer to Martha's questioning stare. “...Hi!”

“I haven't caught you at a bad time, have I?”

“No, no, of course not,” Kara says as she leans against the wall. Martha offers a quick wave and mouths goodnight, which prompts Kara to glance at her wrist watch. “Er...uh. Well. It's a bit late, actually.”

“Oh! That's—sorry. I didn't even consider,” Dr. Hoshi says.

“It's fine,” Kara assures her, idly fiddling with the phone cord. “Just...unexpected?” she admits. “This actually isn't...” Kara pauses for a moment, trying to decide how much she wants to share. “...My primary number.”

“I know,” Dr. Hoshi says, “I used our tracking software to find you.”

Kara drops the phone cord. ...The mapping software can do that? A reflexive paranoia causes momentary chaos with her response time; she wants to stammer out some sort of reply, but she can only open her mouth, and close it. It's on maybe the third or forth guppy imitation when she hears a soft chuckle on the other end of the line. “...That was a joke.”

The alarm bells in her mind cease their loud ringing. “Oh, ha,” Kara forces out her own chuckle. “A joke. Of course.”

“I tracked you down the old-fashioned way,” Dr. Hoshi explains. “I asked the receptionist at the Daily Planet for the best number to call.”

“And she gave you this one?” Kara asks, incredulous.

“No, she gave me five,” Dr. Hoshi laughs. “And I tried them all, several times. This is the first call to get through.” Kara can hear the smile in her voice as she adds, “You're a difficult woman to track down, Miss Kent.”

That's by design. “Oh, that's...I think I just need to update my contact information,” Kara lies. And, because it is late, and Kara's still recovering from that momentary scare, she's inclined to be a little more blunt than she might normally be, otherwise. “Was there something you needed?”

“Well, now it seems silly,” Dr. Hoshi says. “I just...” she trails off briefly. “Wanted to thank you. For your work on the article. I had a chance to sit down and read it today, and...” There's another pause. “It's very well done. Thank you.”

Kara's both relieved, and a little...underwhelmed? She'd almost been expecting the worst—that Dr. Hoshi was displeased with the article. Because why else call at this hour? But...a simple thank you? She probably could have left that with the receptionist at the Planet...

“Oh, uh...” Kara returns to fiddling with the phone cord. “You're welcome. But, really, I was just. Reporting the incredible work you're doing.” 'Stop deflecting, and just say thank you', she can hear Perry saying. “But, ah. Thank you. For the...thank you. Call.” She finishes awkwardly.

“I'm used to not being taken seriously by my peers,” Dr. Hoshi goes on like she hasn't heard Kara. “For a number of reasons, as I'm sure you can imagine, but. The work I'm doing certainly doesn't win me any favors.”

Kara frowns. “Your mapping software is the most advanced cataloging system of its kind,” she says. “The data you've been gathering should be proof of concept—”

Dr. Hoshi cuts her off with a laugh. “See, that's what I'm talking about. Your conviction. Your faith in the work we're doing here. You treat us with respect, and the same cannot always be said of my colleagues.” She sighs. “That is what I wanted to thank you for, Miss Kent.”

Kara is truly at a loss for words. She has to go back to, “You're...you're welcome.”

“I've kept you long enough, I think,” Dr. Hoshi says, and Kara's grateful, because she's not sure she'd be able to keep this conversation going. “And again, sorry about the late call.”

“It's no trouble, really.”

They exchange polite goodbyes, and Kara returns the receiver to its cradle, still processing the exchange.

As she turns off the kitchen light and heads upstairs, she reasons that maybe it's not that weird, this late night thank you call. She remembers her dad and her uncle, and how they would lose track of both time and social graces when wrapped up in a project.

And of course Dr. Hoshi would pick up on...how had she described it? Kara's conviction. Because Kara, for as cagey as she tries to be about some things, has a very hard time not wearing her passion on her sleeve. She's honestly surprised that Dr. Hoshi didn't ask her if she'd be interesting in donating to their funding, for as much apparent interest Kara has in their research.

She tries not to let this worry her as she brushes her teeth and changes into her pajamas. She's just finished putting the clean sheets on her bed, when she hears Kal.

“Who was on the phone?”

He's using their 'super secret cousin communication line'—basically whispering at a volume only the two of them can hear.

“The scientist from the article,” Kara answers, relieved to discover that he didn't resort to eavesdropping to satisfy his curiosity. “She just wanted to say thank you.”

“That's all? ...I figured it was some sort of emergency, cause it's so late.”

“I thought so too, but.” Kara flops down on her bed and closes her eyes. “Nope. Just a thank you.”

“She thinks you did a good job?”

“Seems so.”

“That's good. That she liked it.”

“Mmmm-hmmmm.”

“...”

“...Kara?”

“...”

“...Are you asleep?”

“...I'd like to be.”

“It was really just a thank you call?”

Kara sighs. “I think...she was just happy that I took her seriously. She liked that the article was respectful, of her and her work.”

“...Why wouldn't it be?”

“Because a lot of people think her work is...” Kara tries to find a good word. “...a waste of time.”

“I thought she made space maps.”

“Not that work.”

“Oh.” There's a lengthy stretch of silence. Kara thinks that perhaps Kal's finally out of questions, and she can get some sleep. But, “Well. What other work does she do?”

Kara stares at the ceiling. The paint and drywall fade away to reveal the dark night sky overhead.

“She wants to find aliens.”

* * *

NOW

The Grand Mesa SETI Installation isn't much to look at, squat and square as it is, surrounded by miles and miles of red dirt and scrub. The fifteen or so arrays aren't terribly impressive either—in fact, they have something of an eerie quality about them, occasionally shifting, intermittently whirring, all in a slow, synchronized dance.

Against the backdrop of the Arizona desert, it's all just a bit...alien.

Kara would laugh at the irony, if not for the pervading somber mood of the visit.

The interior of the facility is less off-putting than the exterior; no-nonsense linoleum, flat grey walls, plastic furniture left over from the mid-eighties. Kara wonders if the equipment, too, is as dated as the interior decorating, which only makes her frown deepen.

There's no one at the front desk. Kara takes a quick glance at the rest of the facility with her x-ray vision—there are a few blind spots, thanks to what she imagines is old, lead-based paint, but she can see that it's basically a skeleton crew; the bare minimum amount of techs to keep the place running.

Kara sighs quietly to herself as she hears the click of the door on the far side of the front desk.

“Oh, uh. Hi.” It's a man, perhaps in his forties, dressed casually and clearly surprised by her presence. “Um. Are you here to see somebody?”

Kara opens her mouth, but is cut off by the arrival of a second person breezing through the same door.

“She's here to see me,” Dr. Hoshi tells the man. He catches a glimpse of her expression—stony and displeased, and quickly excuses himself. “Hello, Miss Kent.”

She doesn't smile, but the displeasure softens marginally into something like annoyance. Kara marvels at how different this woman is, from the woman she'd written about in her article, years ago. She's still austere, with her sharply styled a-line bob and pristine oxford and slacks, but where there was once idealistic determination in her stern gaze, there is a brittleness; cold and fragile, like thin ice.

“Dr. Hoshi,” Kara greets. “It's been a while.”

“It has,” Dr. Hoshi agrees, but her tone is utterly flat. “But that's to be expected, I suppose. As you can see,” she gestures to the room around them, but it's obvious she means the entire facility. “I'm hardly a high-profile catch these days.”

“You alluded to as much, in your recent...” Accusation? Confession? “...Interview.”

“If you're here for proof,” Dr. Hoshi shakes her head. “I have nothing for you.”

“I know,” Kara says, and Dr. Hoshi's expression changes for the first time since they've started talking. Not much, though. Just a slight narrowing of her eyes, a barely perceptible twitch in her frown.

“Then why are you here?”

“Well,” Kara's relieved for the opportunity to drop the hardened reporter act, “you might not have proof, necessarily. But that doesn't mean there isn't a story here.” Dr. Hoshi looks like she's going to protest. “This is all off the record. I'm not on company time. Honest.” The other woman still regards her with suspicion.

“You came all the way out here, on your own time, just to talk...off the record?”

“I came 'all the way out here' to visit friends in California,” Kara corrects her. “This was on the way.”

Dr. Hoshi regards her for several long moments. Kara feels inclined to add, “I want to hear your side of this. Because...I think you deserve that chance.” She shrugs in what she hopes is a disarming manner. “And I'm just. Still a big fan of your work.”

This seems to be convincing enough for Dr. Hoshi to acquiesce to her presence. Not fully accept it, exactly. But. Tolerate it?

Which Kara can work with.

“Was doing,” Dr. Hoshi tells her, breezing past Kara and gesturing for her to follow. They enter a hallway off the main lobby and head deeper into the box-like building. Handcarts stacked high with half-packed boxes of broken and outdated instruments litter the spaces outside of large rooms that house the actual monitoring equipment: computers just as boxy and unremarkable as the cardboard boxes in the halls.

“This entire facility is obsolete,” Dr. Hoshi explains over her shoulder. “We're basically a glorified tax right-off.”

“They put you here to keep you quiet and out of the way,” Kara surmises. Dr. Hoshi nods.

“And I got tired of keeping quiet.”

Kara nods. She'd seen the 'tell-all' interview, an impassioned accusation on a local news channel that had stumbled its way on to the national news scene when a LexCorp lawyer happened to catch a rerun of the broadcast while holed up in a grimy motel off of 10. (Why a LexCorp lawyer was even in a grimy motel in Arizona in the first place was conveniently left out of the equation, no doubt thanks to LexCorp's not inconsiderable PR team.) Had the lawyer never seen the footage, it probably would've faded into obscurity. Some loony, local scientist claims big business stole her stuff.

Big whoop.

Dr. Hoshi flips on a light switch, and the dim set of fluorescent overhead lights are joined by a second set of equally dim fluorescence lights; these ones buzz louder, though.

“Do you think they'll fire you?” Kara asks, watching as Dr. Hoshi begins what looks like a routine check of the computers and recording apparatuses.

“No, not really,” she says with an air of grim acceptance. “It will be easier for them to blacklist me. I'll be forced to stay here, and they'll be able to keep an eye on me.” She pauses, and stares at the large arrays in the red expanse just outside of the building. There's a dull whine as they turn their large, concave faces to the east. Mechanized sunflowers, searching the starlight. “All these relics, constantly recording. And I'm the only thing here LexCorp cares about monitoring.” She says this quietly, more to herself than Kara.

Kara gives her a moment, not wanting to be rude as she gently continues her questions. “Do you know if LexCorp is using your technology currently? Do you know if they used it to track the Doomsday Event?”

“The Doomsday Event was a terrorist attack,” Dr. Hoshi parrots the widely-accepted official statement. Kara blinks, surprised to hear that line come from Dr. Hoshi.

“But what about Supergir—” Kara starts to say, only to swallow the rest of her sentence whole as Dr. Hoshi slowly turns.

“...What about Supergirl?” She asks, eyes narrowed. Kara frantically tries to think. She's only done a handful of interviews, and she can't remember. She can't remember...did she ever say it? Did she ever admit that she was an alien?

“I thought,” Kara clears her throat. “I thought she confirmed. That Doomsday was extraterrestrial.” She hopes Dr. Hoshi doesn't follow the news too closely; Kara never actually commented on the Doomsday Event.

“...Maybe she did,” Dr. Hoshi says with a shrug, turning her intense stare away from Kara. Kara breathes a little easier. “And maybe it was. But STAR Labs handled the autopsy, and they insist that whatever attacked Metropolis was human in origin. I know LexCorp tried to bully them into sharing access to their findings, but they were never successful.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, because I did some of the bullying.” Dr. Hoshi says. Kara's eyes widen. “But it became clear to me that they weren't going to budge, so I backed off, and focused on my own work. LexCorp 'locked down' my research shortly thereafter. Maybe in retaliation, for failing to procure the STAR Labs files. Or maybe because they felt they were falling behind in the new space race, and my insistence that we should proceed slowly and carefully and follow the science was too much of a hindrance.”

Dr. Hoshi's voice rises slightly as she ends her statement; it's the most emotion Kara's seen from her since she arrived, even more than the quiet suspicion of LexCorp's spying.

“...I'm sorry,” Kara says. And she means it.

Dr. Hoshi must sense this, because she lets out a very long sigh, and even offers a smile. It still carries that brittle quality, though. “Thank you.”

They share a moment of mutual silence before Dr. Hoshi turns to inspect the last computer.

“So, no. LexCorp was not using my work, prior to the Doomsday event. But they're almost certainly using it now.” She leans in close to the screen, and types something on the keyboard. “Or, they're leasing it to the military. We'll probably never know for sure, though.” She squints, and types another command in on the keyboard. “Odd...”

“What's odd?” Kara asks, moving to stand closer to the computer. There's a lot of information on the screen, but Kara can't decipher it. It just looks like a lot of random numbers and letters.

“This computer tracks our data here against the information gathered at the sister installation, down in Brazil. There's a lag, but the systems generally keep in sync, which we use to make sure everything's up and running properly.”

“So if they fall out of sync—”

“Something's broken.”

“It's not just...picking up space radio waves?”

Dr. Hoshi chuckles. “No. See this collection of data here?” She points to a set of numbers on the screen. Kara nods. “It's essentially too strong to be from space. Something is physically affecting an array.”

“Here?”

“No, down in Brazil.” Dr. Hoshi moves to the other side of the lab and grabs a phone from one of the desks. Kara hears the dial tone, and then the rapid succession of key tones.

She plans on listening to the entire call, of course—all the while making a show of how very interesting this computer screen is—until the conversation lapses into Portuguese. Kara winces.

Mental note: Learn Portuguese.

Given the tone of the individual on the other end of the line, Kara gets the sense that something is wrong. Maybe not catastrophically wrong, but the other scientist is clearly distressed. Dr. Hoshi says something that Kara assumes is meant to be assuring before ending the call.

“I'm sorry, Miss Kent, but I'm afraid we'll have to cut this visit short.”

Yes, we will. “That's okay, I understand,” Kara tells her as Dr. Hoshi leads her back into the hall. “Is everything alright?”

“There's some sort of...” Kara can see that the other woman is choosing her words carefully. “Mechanical problem, which means I get to look forward to a long evening of phone tag. Complete with international rates.” She smiles ruefully. “Another tax write-off for LexCorp.”

Dr. Hoshi apologizes again for the abrupt end to the visit, but Kara is quick to remind her that this was unplanned.

“Now we're even,” Kara says, and Dr. Hoshi blinks at her in confusion. “Um. From when you called me, back when the article...never mind.”

Dr. Hoshi is kind enough to ignore the awkward moment, and simply wishes her well on her visit to California.

“Are you driving?” Dr. Hoshi asks as Kara digs her car keys out of her purse. Kara heads for the parking lot.

“Just a rental,” she says, holding up the key fob and the bright yellow tag attached to it. “I'm heading to the airport.”

“Have a safe flight, then.” Dr. Hoshi says, and returns to squat brick building.

Kara drives back into town and returns the car to the rental agency. That part wasn't a lie. And technically speaking, she is going to fly.

She finds a secluded spot, behind some buildings on the edge of town, and tugs at her shirt, revealing the primary-colored costume beneath.

Up, up, and away.

* * *

The only similarity between the Grand Mesa and the Montanha Verde SETI installations are the collection of large arrays flanking the main buildings; while Grand Mesa's surrounded by a vast sea of parched, red earth, Montanha Verde lives up to its name, nestled atop a collection of vibrant green foothills, the arrays dotting the terraced slope of the mountainside just above.

As Kara touches down on one of the far hills, she takes a quick x-ray scan of the building and the immediate surrounding area, mentally tallying the number of people onsite.

There are more techs here than at the Grand Mesa facility; she hurriedly does the math. If it comes down to it, she can clear the entire site in two minutes. Depending on wind speed, anyway.

She's hoping that won't be the case. As it turns out, 'mechanical failure' means that one of the arrays is on fire, and threatening to topple into an adjacent array, which is troubling enough on its own. More troubling, is the potential for the arrays to tumble down the mountainside, right into the back corner of the main building.

Easy fix, she decides as she (literally) flies into action. She decides against freeze breath, not wanting to damage the arrays further. Instead she flies in a tight circle around the flames, creating a vortex that robs them of oxygen. The flames die down almost instantly; she does send a light breeze in the direction of the singed metal, just to cool it down.

Once she's certain the nearby vegetation won't catch fire again, she lands, and pulls the leaning array back into position. She welds a quick patch into place—hardly a permanent solution, but better than simply hoping the compromised array won't fall over.

Some of the techs want to rush over as soon as they see her finish with the spot weld, but she holds up her hands, stay back! They nod, and keep a safe distance.

“Thank you,” they all start to talk over one another as she approaches, and that's the only phrase she can 1.) pick out and 2.) understand.

She underlines her mental note. Learn Portuguese!!

“You're welcome. I'm—sorry, I don't,” now only a few of the techs are talking, realizing that she's a little overwhelmed. “I don't speak—”

“Verde, verde,” Kara hears.

“Verde? Right, Montanha Verde,” she points over to the building, hoping she's understood. But one of them—a man with dark hair greying at the temples and a neatly trimmed beard—shakes his head profusely.

“Verde monstro.”

“Green...monster?” Kara can't imagine that word meaning anything else. The man doesn't confirm if she's translated correctly; he points farther down the ridge, past the land cleared for the facility, where the cropped vegetation gives way to actual jungle.

It's both the last thing Kara expects—this was supposedly just a mechanical failure, after all—and yet somehow, terribly fitting. Of course a 'green monster' would be the source of mysterious troubles at a SETI facility.

“I'll check it out,” Kara tells them, hoping her tone and facial expression help get the meaning across. She takes off quickly, only to belatedly realize that perhaps it's not terribly wise, to charge into unfamiliar terrain.

It's not like there's anything on Earth that can hurt you, Kara reminds herself.

Still. She doesn't love the prospect of accidentally spooking a wild animal. She slows down and flies just above the canopy, keeping her eyes trained on the forest floor for any signs of...whatever tracks a green monster might make.

She keeps up the search for several hours, and tries not to think about the fact that this is a textbook case of needle in a haystack. She's not physically tired when she finally calls it quits, but it's getting dark; the search is only going to become more and more difficult as the sun sinks lower in the sky.

She spots a clearing and drops into a quick landing, intent on checking the wristwatch she keeps in her cape pocket while there's still enough light to see. It's set to Metropolis time, and she's somewhere west of Belem, but what is that in terms of longitude—?

Kara doesn't notice it at first. Or, she does notice it, but it doesn't register until it's almost too late—she mentally cataloged it as just. Typical forest sounds.

But there's a pattern. A rhythm.

Footsteps.

Kara whirls and her heat vision goes off without conscious thought—just a bright beam of blue that shoots in whatever direction she's looking. A half-fallen tree branch bursts into flames.

“Argh!”

The yell isn't Kara's—a tall, something. Man? Stumbles back, away from the flame, bringing an arm up to shield his face.

Kara sends a gust of cold air on the flames, not wanting to create an international incident. Superhero Burns Down Amazon Rainforest by Accident is a headline Kara would very much like to avoid.

The man continues his frenzied retreat from the flames, only to stumble over a large exposed root. He lands on his back, hard.

“Please,” he says in a voice that is distinctly not human. “Please, do not kill me.”

He drops his arms, revealing his face. Green skin and bright red eyes.

Verde monstro.

Except, no. Not a monster. Not a monster at all; frightened and confused lab techs had, perhaps understandably, seen something unfamiliar, something monstrous among the flames. But Kara is not frightened and confused. Startled, maybe, but otherwise able to see how scared he is. She can hear it.

“I'm not going to kill you,” she tells him, holding out her hands in an open, non-threatening gesture. “I'm sorry about my—about the fire,” she apologizes. “That happens sometimes. When I'm scared.”

She doesn't move forward at all—she doesn't want to do anything that could be perceived as aggression. She lets him set the pace of this...encounter? Exchange? Whatever this is.

He uses the opportunity to climb to his feet, all the while keeping a close eye on her. He remains tense, arms bent in a defensive position.

“I'm—” Kara knows she should say Supergirl, but what comes out instead is, “Kara Zor-El. I'm here to help.”

He says nothing. They continue to stare at one another for a very long time.

After a small eternity, he finally speaks.

“My name is J'onn J'onzz,” he says. “And I don't think you can.”

* * *

Kara starts a fire—deliberately, and safely, this time—and invites J'onn to take a seat.

He does take a seat. About ten feet away from the flames.

“...You don't want to sit closer?” Kara asks. It's possible he's impervious to extreme temperatures, like her and Kal, but. If he sits closer to the light at least, the conversation might be a little less...spooky.

(Because, as much as Kara hates to admit it, she can understand why the lab techs were scared; J'onn's face is comprised of hard angles, and a long, ovular cranium. Not unlike the shape humans ascribe to the stereotypical 'Gray' aliens supposedly found at Roswell. But, more so than the harsh angles and green skin, Kara thinks perhaps they were mostly reacting to the glowing red eyes.)

“No,” J'onn says simply.

Kara nods. “Okay.”

Another small eternity passes. And then,

“My planet...burned to death.”

Kara stares at him across the flames, watching the shadows shift over his face as he pointedly turns away from the fire.

A heavy sadness settle in her chest.

“You're a refugee,” she says.

J'onn doesn't look at her. He keeps his face turned away. “Someone who is forced to leave their home to escape war, persecution, or a natural disaster,” he recites the definition. “Yes. I am.”

Kara takes a deep breath, reflexively reaching for the edge of her cape, to run her fingers of the corner. An outlet for her pent-up emotions. “I'm sorry,” she says quietly. “Did...did anyone else escape?”

“I am the last.”

Tears spring to Kara's eyes, the words landing on all the broken bits, the still-healing bits that she buries down deep inside. They press down hard and cause her to let out a watery chuckle, which J'onn probably thinks is extremely rude.

But he must see the glint of the firelight reflecting off her tears, because his expression is one of confusion, not outrage. And Kara then explains,

“Same, actually.”

The confusion lingers only a moment longer, before understanding sets in. He nods.

And then, slowly, he stands.

Kara watches, a little confused herself, until she sees him skirt the edge of the clearing, and come to sit fractionally closer to her. Still quite far from the flames, but. Most definitely closer.

“I'm...sorry.”

She wipes at her tears and takes a steadying breath. “Me too.”

* * *

It's weird. Not a bad weird, but certainly some kind of weird—two complete strangers sharing stories of lost home worlds around a campfire, somewhere at the edge of the Amazon Rainforest.

Kara can't remember which one of them started it. She thinks maybe it was J'onn who got the ball rolling, telling her a little bit about Mars. Not much; there was still a guarded element to his demeanor, and Kara would eventually come to understand that wariness was borne of having spent so long on Earth hiding. Decades to her fifteen or so odd years.

And then she started talking about Krypton. Really talking about Krypton. The blemished, imperfect Krypton that Kara had, perhaps a bit unintentionally, scrubbed clean for Kal's bedtime stories.

Talking with Kal...it was just stories. Because all he knew was Earth.

Talking with J'onn—he knew. He'd had friends, family, a daily routine. Favorite foods that could never be replicated, because the ingredients no longer existed.

“That's why I wanted Dr. Hoshi's work to succeed,” Kara finds herself explaining, as the conversation inevitably turns to how they both came to be in Brazil in the first place. “I mean. Obviously, it's going to be...a long time, before Earth reaches the point where they have the technology necessary for intergalactic communication, let alone travel, but...” she purses her lips, and stares into the flames. “I'd like to think that someday, aliens will just be a fact of life. And then...maybe...” she sighs. “Maybe. We won't have to hide.”

She can see J'onn shift in her peripheral vision.

“That is where we differ,” he says. “I've been on this planet a very long time. I don't think we'll ever be able to stop hiding.”

Kara wants to argue the point, but J'onn continues, “There's a group that's been following me. Hunting me. I don't know how they're managing to track me.” J'onn looks off in the direction of the SETI facility. “I...overheard, that they were planning to make use of facilities like the one on that mountain ridge. If not to track us on this planet, then to track those like us before they even arrive.”

“Is that...” Kara swallows. “Why you...”

“I didn't want to injure anyone, I only wanted to disable their tools.” J'onn tells her, and Kara can't help that her first thought is one of stern judgement, that he's basically admitted to destroying private property, and by extension, potentially endangering all those people. “But I miscalculated, and the dish caught fire.” He takes a breath. “So I ran.”

“I...I understand your...” Kara doesn't think concern is the right word to use. “...Fear. I do. Really.” And she does. It's now, in her adulthood, that she's recognizing that it was not normal or healthy, for a thirteen-year-old to live with the constant background radiation of worry that a shadowy government organization could come snatch her or Kal at any time, with no warning or consequence. “But we can't just assume that everyone—that they're all like the group that's—” hunting, stalking, preying, “following you.”

“You have not encountered these people,” Kara can see that J'onn is making an effort to respond calmly. His shoulders tense, and his hands curl into fists. “You do not understand.”

It's a sobering reminder, one that Kara doesn't counter, even though she'd really like to. As alike as they are, they've also led very, very different lives. Kara has to respect that.

“You're right,” is what she decides to go with. “I'll never fully understand, and I'm sorry, for everything you've had to endure.”

“...Thank you.”

* * *

WHUP, WHUP, WHUP.

Kara grumbles in irritation. Her apartment building is 'centrally located, close to public transit, ideal for commuters,' which is realtor speak for: overlooks the elevated train tracks of the city's metro system on one side, and the approach to the Monarch Bridge on the other. So if it's not the sound of the yellow line waking her in the morning, it's the sound of a traffic copter, covering rush hour.

She reaches for her quilt, intent on burrowing beneath the covers to try and catch a few more minutes of sleep.

The quilt feels. Weirdly like her cape? That's—

She's awake in an instant, as the sounds of the helicopter become impossibly loud and close. She's not in her apartment; she's in Brazil—her and J'onn had talked so long, that she ended up deciding to simply catch an hour or so of sleep before heading back to the states, just before dawn. J'onn had offered to stick around and keep watch, 'just in case.'

Kara thought it was both courteous and maybe a little unnecessary at the time.

Boy, does she feel foolish.

“It's them,” J'onn says in a strained voice, eyes trained on the sky. “I have to go.”

He's already turning to head deeper into the jungle. Kara jumps to her feet, shaking off leaves and dirt.

“Wait, wait, there has to be...something we can do—” Kara says, rushing after him, but as she says it, she thinks, what? What can we do? Talk to them? Fight them? She's not even sure who this 'them' is. She's only heard J'onns vague accounts of their various encounters, and she gets the sense that he doesn't really know who they are, either.

“Don't involve yourself in this,” J'onn says, not bothering to look back at her as he speaks. “You're fortunate, you look like them. You have a life to go back to.” The words are painful to hear, but probably even more painful for J'onn to say, and they aren't untrue. “So, go.”

But Kara won't. She can't.

“Let me help you, at least,” Kara insists, reaching out to try and touch J'onn's shoulder. The movement makes him turn, causing him to slow.

There's a sharp Crack! followed by a terrible sound of wet impact. J'onn grunts, and falls to his knees.

“J'onn!” Kara cries out in concern, stooping to support him before he falls forward completely. A figure emerges from the dense brush and trees.

“Supergirl, what an unexpected surprise.” Kara looks up to see a black man dressed in camouflage fatigues, holding a semi-automatic weapon. The tag above his left breast pocket reads: H. Henshaw. “Didn't know you were hunting this monster as well.”

J'onn lets out another pained grunt. Kara helps him to apply pressure on the wound on his abdomen. “Do I know you?”

“No, but we know you,” Henshaw says with a terrible grin. “It's our business, to know all about our...” he pauses, and brings up his gun to train the sight on J'onn. “Strange visitors, from other planets.”

Kara positions herself between Henshaw and J'onn. “Are you CIA? Military?”

“I'm afraid that's classified information,” Henshaw says. “Move.”

“I'm not going to let you kill him,” Kara says fiercely.

“Careful, Supergirl,” Henshaw growls, tightening his grip on his gun. “So early in your career...do you really want to make yourself an enemy of the state?”

Kara doesn't know how to respond; she's desperately trying to think through this. Trying to see all the angles, all the potential consequences, instead of rushing in. (As she's prone to do.) But she can hear J'onn's labored breathing, her attention thus divided, her mind running in too many different directions.

Henshaw must mistake her hesitation for defiance. “Alright, let's try something else. Move, or I'll have a group of agents at that quaint little farm of yours faster than you can blink.”

Kara can't stop the strangled choking noise that works its way out of her mouth—no, no, she was so careful, she'd always been so careful...

You never should have become Supergirl, she thinks, but then, as she continues to stare, wide-eyed at Henshaw's face, she has a horrifying realization that he looks familiar. She's seen him before. Somewhere. Some--

A memory. Smallville. Shortly after her and Kal had landed, going into town with Martha, having pancakes at the diner before finishing their errands...

A couple of guys in suits at the far end of the restaurant. She caught their eyes a few time, but thought it was a fluke. An awkward, accidentally moment of eye contact.

But it wasn't. It wasn't a fluke, it wasn't an accident, they had found them. They'd known all along. But how?! She thinks, borderline hysterical. How had they evaded her detection? She has super-hearing! She can see through walls!

It's a struggle to simply breathe through the panic and processing; she doesn't notice as Henshaw loads a new cartridge into his gun—one that gives off a subtle glow in the milky, pre-dawn light.

He's about to fire, but there's a roar from behind Kara.

“Wha—no!” Henshaw yells as J'onn barrels into him. They both tumble further into the trees. Kara forces her mind to stop spinning in frenzied circles long enough to clamber unsteadily to her feet. They've known, they've always known—

Focus! She tells herself, and charges after the two men. She can hear them before she sees them, the grunting, the struggling, another gunshot.

Someone yells—Henshaw. But the yelling fades, like he's—

She's spotted them now. She surges forward through a tight knot of trees. J'onn is slumped at the edge of a cliff.

Henshaw is not with him.

“He...he went over, I wasn't—” J'onn tries to say, but he's breathing heavily, and still clutching his side. “—Not strong enough, not fast enough to pull him back—”

He passes out, at that point. She approaches the edge of the cliff, just enough to see that it's...a very long way down.

She presses the back of her fist to her mouth, eyebrows drawing together in distress as she imagines the fall. She proceeds no further. There's no need.

Instead, she picks J'onn up as gently as she can, and extends her hearing as far as it will go. The helicopter has landed a few miles to the south, and she can hear two separate scouting parties.

They need to leave.

They also need to...figure out what to do about these people, the ones who have been following J'onn, and apparently Kara as well.

...One crisis at a time, Kara decides.

She takes off, her speed probably more than a little reckless, but she needs to get J'onn help. And fast.

...She just hopes that the Danvers know as much about patching up Martians as they do about patching up Kryptonians.

* * *

Alex usually isn't allowed to have a second juice box, but she takes her chances asking mom if it would be okay. After all, Kara is visiting, and when Kara visits, sometimes the rules change a little bit.

Like getting a second juice box.

(She checks to see if any of the grown-ups are looking, before quickly grabbing a third juice box that she stuffs under her sweatshirt.)

She makes sure to close the refrigerator before hurrying past the dining room, where Kara and her parents are. They don't notice her, which is okay—they're really busy talking.

So she continues on her way to the family room. It's a little messier than normal, and for once, it isn't because Alex has forgotten to clean up her toys. Instead, there are Band-Aids and stuff all over. She's careful not to disturb anything—it's all stuff that only the grown-ups are allowed to use, and she's already sneaking juice boxes, so. Best not to break any more rules.

She settles herself on the couch, fluffing a pillow, and getting comfortable before she turns her attention to her juice box. She pulls off the straw and bites through the plastic wrapper.

The big green man that Kara brought with her stirs at the other end of the couch.

“Wanna juice box?” Alex asks, removing the super-secret extra one from under her sweatshirt. “It's fruit punch.”

The big green man blinks at her with his glowing red eyes. Christmas colors, Alex thinks.

“Fruit...punch?”

“It's really good,” Alex explains. “Because it has all the fruits. Together.”

She offers it to him. He looks at it for a second, before reaching out to take it.

“...Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Alex says. She starts on her own juice box, then realizes the green man is still staring at his. “Oh. You gotta—” Alex reaches over and pulls off the straw to hand it to him. He takes it, but he stares at that too. So she reaches over again and takes the straw, slamming it on the coffee table to get it to pop up out of the plastic.

She sets the wrapper off to the side, and gives him the straw once more. “Now poke it through the silver dot.” She points to the top of the juice box.

The green man follows her instructions. The straw slides into place. “Yeah. Like that.”

She watches as he takes a hesitant sip. The juice box trembles a little in his grip, but that's probably because he was hurt earlier, and is still getting better.

“It is...very good.” He says after several more sips. Alex smiles.

“Toldja.”

They sit side by side, enjoying their juice boxes in companionable silence. As Alex finishes her own, the cardboard crumpling as she noisily slurps the last fruity drops, she says, “My name's Alex.”

“I'm J'onn J'onzz,” the man says.

“Are you from Krypton, like Kara?”

“...No...I'm from Mars.”

“Oh.” Alex nods. “Okay.” She looks down at her hands, and counts on her fingers. “My...very...educated...mother...” She looks up. “That's right next to Earth!” she smiles. “Like a next-door neighbor.”

“...Yes,” J'onn agrees.

She looks over to see that he's finished his juice box, too. “Want another one? Mom will probably say it's okay, because you're sick.”

J'onn regards his empty juice box. “Would it also be...fruit punch?”

“Yeah.”

“...Then yes, please.” He gives her a small smile. “I would like another juice box.”

* * *

It takes J'onn two days to recover. It's mostly thanks to his own healing ability—Eliza and Jeremiah do as much as they can for him, but their resources are limited.

So, he spends the two days sleeping in their guest bedroom. Kara spends those two days thanking Eliza and Jeremiah profusely.

“I owe you guys,” she tells them.

“You can pay us back in juice boxes,” Jeremiah says.

J'onn is up and about by day three, and pretty much immediately insists on leaving.

“I'm a danger to you all, staying here.” The Danvers try to reassure him that, it's fine, that he doesn't need to feel like he has to flee into the night.

But. Kara had told them. About the man, Henshaw, and what he had revealed to her, when he'd cornered them in the jungle.

“They probably know about you, too,” Kara admits with a grim expression. “I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be,” Eliza says with a firm shake of her head. “We were well aware of the risks, when you came to us after the Doomsday Event.”

“But J'onn's right,” Kara says. “It's dangerous—”

“Then it's a good thing we've got a Kryptonian on speed-dial,” Jeremiah interrupts with a grin.

“Still, I understand why he's anxious to go,” Eliza concedes. “Is there anything we can do to help him?”

Kara admits she isn't sure, and is determined to find out. Which is how she finds herself in the Danvers' backyard, joining J'onn in quietly admiring the sunset.

“I've never been able to just,” he takes a long, deep breath. “Enjoy this planet.”

Kara nods in somber understanding. But then adds, “One of the things Earth has going for it,” she smiles. “It's beautiful.”

“It is.”

Encouraged by his agreement, Kara continues, “And a lot of the people on this planet...are really wonderful too.”

She braces for an argument. But,instead, J'onn looks down at his hand, and Kara realizes he's holding a juice box.

“I still have a hard time believing that,” he says. “...But I would like to try.”

She nods again. “The Danvers want to help,” Kara tells him, crossing her arms over her shirt. She's not in costume. Standing next to J'onn, though, with his regal blue cape and dark, armored suit, she feels under dressed. “We all want to help. However we can.”

“That group...I think they're called the D.E.O.”

Kara frowns. “How do you know that?”

“I heard one of the other agents,” he says, which Kara finds strange. She'd heard the agents too, but they'd mostly just been whispering commands and confirming locations, entirely in code; she hadn't heard any of them openly discussing specifics.

But then, maybe he meant he'd heard it during one of their earlier encounters.

“They'll be looking for Henshaw.”

She turns away from him. “There's no way he survived that fall,” she says in a low voice, trying not to think of the man's grizzly fate. She's still horrified by what Henshaw told her, and she got the impression that the man took a sickening glee in the prospect of killing J'onn—and possibly any alien they deemed 'too powerful' to conceivably coexist with humanity in peace. But still. It was a gruesome end, one Kara wouldn't wish on anyone.

“I'm going to take his place,” J'onn says suddenly.

Kara starts. “What?”

She turns back to face him and he's—something's happening. There's a red glow that envelopes his entire body, and J'onn's face fades away, replaced by the face of Hank Henshaw.

Kara gapes.

“I've thought about this,” he says, “If Henshaw is listed as 'MIA', or worse, it they find and identify his remains at the bottom of that ravine, they'll intensify their search, maybe even respond more harshly to perceived 'threats'.

“But if I take his place...I can divert their entire operation. Change it from the inside.” Kara's trying to focus on his plan, because, as wild as it is, it's...admittedly a very good one. It would potentially solve...a lot of problems.

...But she's silently freaking-out, just a little. J'onn just—dead! Dead guy! Dead guy, standing here, talking to me! “I can make it safer on this planet, for people like us.”

“That's—you—” Kara shakes her head. “You can shapeshift???”

J'onn smiles.

“I can also read minds.”

* * *

“—and she didn't come back, but satellite imagery suggests she left Brazil alive, with an injured civilian. They entered U.S. airspace that morning.”

“...I see.”

“Did you get the reports on the array? The damage was surprisingly minimal.”

“...I did get the reports, but I still need to look them over.” She ends the conversation abruptly, knowing she'll have to apologize to Dr. Silva later.

But she doesn't really care.

Because how was it, that within hours—hours—of speaking off the record with Kara Kent about an incident at the Montanha Verde installation, Supergirl arrived at that very same location, without any explanation as to how she knew they were in trouble, how she even knew where to go?

The obvious explanation is that Kara leaked the story to someone with connections to Supergirl. Or maybe Kara herself was in contact with the superhero.

Or.

Dr. Hoshi retreats to her office. A sparse room consisting of a desk, a chair, and a meticulously organized bookshelf. It's free of any personal touches—Kimiyo remembers feeling like it would have been admitting defeat, to settle down here. To invest in the lie LexCorp was building, about her. Her career.

Normally, the sight of the office simply depresses her. Now?

She finds herself growing angry.

She sits at the desk, and thinks. Kara Kent had always been so invested in their work. Kara Kent had come here, unannounced, and had basically received a VIP tour, getting an up-close look at their monitoring equipment. (However rudimentary and obsolete it may be.)

And there was that business about the Doomsday Event. And Supergirl.

Supergirl...who went to help with the damaged array. The damaged array that Kimiyo had specifically mentioned.

To Kara Kent.

...A crazy theory, she decides. But then, how many widely accepted scientific truths began as mere crazy theories?

She just has to test it.

But to test a crazy theory, you need funding. And resources.

She looks around the small, bleak office.

She reaches for the phone on her desk. Dials a familiar number.

The call is picked up on the second ring.

“Kimiyo, hello. What a pleasant surprise,” the greeting is not delivered with any sort of sincerity. “Has E.T. phoned home yet?”

Kimiyo refuses to dignify the stupid joke with a response. “I want out of here, Lex.”

“You're welcome to tender your resignation at any time.”

“I know how we can get back at STAR Labs,” Kimiyo says.

The line goes quiet for a time.

“I'm listening.”

“It's just a theory, at this point. I'd need to test it...I'd need—”

“Access to your research? Your old lab?” his tone is mocking.

“And money.”

“Natch.”

“You wanted Doomsday, right?”

“...You have something on Doomsday?”

“No,” Kimiyo admits, and Lex makes an irritated noise. “...I might have something on Supergirl.”

She waits for his response.

There's a chuckle. A laugh. A guffaw, and she's certain she's blown her chance at redemption, that she's destroyed her career for a record second time in the space of three years.

But then he speaks.

“That's even better.”

Dr. Hoshi takes a steadying breath.

“So we have a deal?”

Lex Luthor laughs, in a manner most unsettling.

“Oh, yes.”

* * *

NOTES:

- I generally try to keep the notes to a minimum but THIS ONE’S GONNA NEED SOME EXPLANATION - It took me forever to decide on when J’onn appears in the CAK universe. I had initially planned on just using the date and circumstances from the show, essentially replacing Jeremiah with Kara. - Buuuuuut that would mean J’onn would arrive when Alex was a teenager, and the thought of Smol Alex inspiring J’onn to have faith in humanity was. Too compelling of a notion to pass up. XD - So this kind of contradicts events in ‘the one where alex saves the world’ but those inconsistencies can be handwaved away with: Alex wasn’t aware that her cool Martian friend she met One Time is the same guy as Kara’s grumpy colleague from the DEO. - TIMELINE CHECK: This takes place before, and then after ‘the one with the beginning’ (AKA the Doomsday one.) - As always: the science is just pure made-up nonsense, cobbled together from light Googling and my vague recollections of Contact. - Kara finds J’onn in Brazil as opposed to Peru because I definitely misremembered episode 1x17. - And SPEAKING OF, if the whole trip seems contrived and like it was meant to be the beginning of a much longer plot/mystery, that’s because it was, but I lost the notes to what I had initially planned.

#stranger writes #supergirl fic #cool aunt kara AU #CAK AU #J'onn J'onzz #kara danvers #alex danvers #j'onn and kara centric #long post

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halictus-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome to Seattle (Ch. 3 of 5)

Remus deleted Tinder the second the app finished downloading. He was sitting at the dining table/desk combination of his studio apartment, and, unsurprisingly it was raining just outside the window. Seattle felt so new to Remus, although it had now been months since he moved away from his previous life. It took a lot of journaling and time, but he had begun to feel like what had happened–– his ex breaking his heart an hour before his twenty-sixth birthday party–– was meant to happen. His life hadn’t been his own. It was full of so much compromise, as is necessary for a life shared by two people, but the compromises that were made did not further his growth. He was stuck in a rut in his career, he was still in his college town, and he hadn’t even written a word of the novel he told himself he would write after the next big thing––graduation, holidays, birthdays, travel–�� finished.

And now, here he was. Living in a big city, alone, but doing it the way he wanted. He had a job that furthered his growth, he had supportive friends, and he had already filled entire notebooks with the ideas, character charts, and plot diagrams that would eventually become his novel. Suddenly realizing that no one was here to complain about the cold, he cracked the window open, letting some of the fresh, rain-scented air in, and shrugged on a sweater.

He was at peace with himself, and for that reason he felt he was ready to give dating another shot. He re-downloaded Tinder, chose a few random pictures of himself, and typed out the bio that Dorcas had helped him draft, cringing the entire time. He closed the app without viewing the other Tinder users within twenty-five miles and two years of his age.

As a treat for his bravery, he decided to get a margherita pizza for lunch. If he exercised self-control, he could save half for tonight’s dinner as well. It was really a matter of simple economics.

***

Remus immediately noticed that the restaurant looked a little different in the midday light, but he also immediately noticed that Sirius was not on the clock. He ordered his pizza to-go.

As he walked back to his apartment, one hand tucking the pizza close, the other brandishing an umbrella, he tried not to think about the fact that he had so far only received free–– and unsolicited–– dessert items when Sirius was working.

***

An hour later, Remus had made his first matches on Tinder. He had also accidentally “super-liked” a person named “DL Top” with a gray image as their only picture, frantically looked up how you could “un-match” with someone, read a very patronizing how-to article on basic Tinder functions, and decided to choose “block” for good measure.

One of his matches was a graduate student at the University of Washington, and Remus liked that his profile said he loved to read. They exchanged normal greeting messages, before the man asked Remus if he was “a LTR kind of guy.” Remus answered him by saying “Tolkien is an amazing writer, obviously, but I have to admit the movies were kind of long.” The man didn’t reply, and Remus figured that his opinions on the Lord of the Rings franchise must have been a deal-breaker for the other man.

Dorcas and Marlene were adamant about hearing his progress with Tinder, so he sent a group text to the two of them.

Remus: Tinder day one is a thing, I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong yet

Dorcas: Yes! Proud of you

Marlene: what’s the weirdest thing that’s happened so far!!!!???

Remus: well, someone asked me what I thought about lord of the rings on the second message, does that count?

Dorcas: haha seriously? What did they even say

Remus: “so are you an LTR kinda guy or what?”

Marlene: HAHA

Dorcas explained that LTR in this context likely stood for “long-term relationship,” with intermittent texts from Marlene such as “how in the heck even” and “you are my favorite person oh my god.”

Remus decided to give Tinder a break for the rest of the day.

***

He made a good deal of progress within his first week of online dating, especially when considering that he started so low, with the misunderstanding of slang and accidental super-liking. It was now a Friday night, and he had a real-life, in-person date set for six o’clock. On Wednesday Remus had met a different match for coffee (but only after Dorcas had cross-referenced his story, friended him from a blank Facebook profile, and found pictures of him at his high school senior prom from nearly a decade ago. “You should be arrested,” Remus had said, horrified but a little grateful). Coffee had been perfectly pleasant, but both men agreed that they would rather be friends than anything more. They even friended each other on Facebook so that Remus could be added to his book club.

Meeting new friends was a welcome side-effect, but Remus was still in the market for a boyfriend. Hence, the anxious shuffling as he waited for the clock to get closer to six. Remus wished his apartment was larger, if only for the chance to have more space to clean. He had already Swiffered the floor, cleaned the bathroom mirror, and remade the bed, and it was still only a quarter past five. The cleaning was just for something to do with his hands and nerves, he knew that his date wouldn’t be seeing the inside of his apartment tonight. As per Dorcas’s prescriptions (and his own self-preservation), Remus’s first dates with strangers met online would take place completely in public.

At 5:45, a message from his upcoming date announced that he was being held a bit late at the office, and asked to reschedule for 6:30 instead of 6. Remus, wanting to be easy-going and amicable, kindly agreed, wishing him luck with his pressing work matters. Internally, however, he was frustrated that he had already taken the garbage out, since now there was absolutely nothing left to clean.

6:30 turned into 7:00, and by 7:15 Remus had taken his shoes off and was laying on the top of his neatly-made bed. The excuses changed from finishing at work, to a friend in need, to traffic, and Remus was beginning to consider just preemptively cancelling it himself.

At 7:45, the match asked if they could just skip dinner and maybe move straight into watching a movie “and cuddling” at Remus’s place instead. It was the final nail in the coffin Remus already saw, so he wasn’t even too disappointed.

Remus sent a polite but clear no, and knew that whoever this person was, he was not someone Remus would be building his life with. His stomach growled suddenly, reminding him that he still hadn’t eaten the dinner he was supposed to have hours earlier. Instead of going to all of the trouble to devise a meal at home, Remus decided that his troubles with the cancelled date warranted a very cheesy, doughy, and effortless meal. He quickly changed from his date clothes–– button down shirt, khakis, and tan buck shoes–– into a more comfortable, eating-pizza-alone-on-a-Friday-night ensemble: cozy sweatshirt, old blue jeans, and nikes.

When he got to the restaurant, he was still moping about getting blown-off from his date. He had sent a quick text to Dorcas and Marlene to let them know that his date was cancelled (otherwise they would have been checking his location religiously every fifteen minutes), but said he was doing okay since he didn’t want to interrupt their own date night plans with his sorrows.

Truthfully, Remus was pretty upset about what had happened. So far, online dating had not been a success, and Remus found himself returning to his secret fear that he wouldn’t ever successfully date again. Maybe it was because he was just too old, or perhaps he was out-of-touch, or it was simply because he had no real experience with dating since he had only ever had to go on one first date, and everything afterwards seemed to fall into place. If Lily was right, and he needed to meet someone organically for a relationship to work, he hoped it would happen soon.

Just then, his inner wallowing was interrupted by Sirius, carrying silverware and a glass of water. Somehow, Remus had forgotten that Sirius may be here, and hadn’t had time to prepare himself for the sight of the attractive waiter. His hair was swept into a loose bun, seemingly held together with a pencil.

“Hey there, how’s your Friday night going?”

Remus almost laughed at the question. Clearly, his night was not fantastic, because if it was, he would not be sitting in the booth of an Italian restaurant, alone, at 8:30 PM. He tried to shake off his own self-pity before answering. “Fine, thanks. How about you? Has it been busy tonight?” One of Remus’s favorite tactics when avoiding conversations about himself to his friends was to get them talking about themselves instead. Or, in the case of James, talking about Lily.

“It hasn’t been too busy today, or at least not since I got here at 5. Although,” he said, smiling almost conspiratorially, “I’ve had three different tables tell me ‘you too’ after I brought them their dinners.”

Remus laughed, and filed away the knowledge that Sirius remembered their inside joke from last time to the back of his mind for unpacking later. “I’ll have to see if I can get that number any higher then.”

“Oh, but you won’t be able to if I change up my script when I bring you your small margherita pizza. I’ll just say something like ‘here it is,’ no wishes of enjoyment included.” Sirius said, with faux sincerity.

“And what if I changed up my order on you?” Remus was surprised but pleased that Sirius remembered not only their jokes from last time about customers stumbling over words when presented with their food, but also the very food that Remus had ordered.

“I hope not, since I told the kitchen to start making it right after I saw you walk in.” Sirius grinned, but then suddenly looked almost bashful. “Although if you wanted something else, you still can order something else, that would be fine, I just thought, well, since it’s kind of late, we might as well give the ovens a head start?” His voice tilted up at the end as the statement turned into a question.

Remus liked this more approachable version of Sirius. He made him feel at ease. “No, you were right, I came here specifically for that margherita pizza. Thank you for starting it early for me.”

Sirius’s nervous smile turned soft.

***

The pizza was delicious, and succeeded in making Remus feel slightly better about the cancelled date. After all, he wouldn’t have been able to eat this much on the date, hindered by an abundance of good manners.

When Sirius dropped off the check, he also let Remus know that they would be closing soon. “You’re welcome to sit as long as you like, but the kitchen did just close.”

“No worries, I’m ready to head out. Thank you!” As Remus signed the receipt, a small to-go box was placed in front of him.

“Kitchen is closed, but you may want that for the road.” Sirius smiled warmly at Remus. “Have a good night!”

As Remus left the restaurant, carrying the small box, he reflected on Sirius’s parting words. He did have a good night, all things considered. Comfort food is one for addressing his emotional turmoil, but having a light conversation with a few inside jokes with another person is another thing entirely.

He also happily noted that he would get to bring the enclosed tiramisu with him to his breakfast with Dorcas and Marlene tomorrow. Pawning off the soggy dessert on them would be good for both reducing food waste and generating karma.

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commisionstrategy · 4 years ago

Text

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dates101 · 5 years ago

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The Quarantine Date

These are tough times, tough times indeed. The world has turned upside down, and as a result we have been confined to our homes. “But wait a minute” I hear you ask, “Does that mean I can’t go on any dates?” Well, yes and no. Everyone should be social distancing themselves (meaning keeping apart from each other) so dating in the traditional sense has to be put on the back burner for now. But what if you’ve just started seeing your special someone and are worried this lack of interaction might ruin things. Well, you’ll just have to think more creatively. Or better yet, let me think for you.

The Date

I’m going to give you 3 core date ideas, in addition to a plethora of fun “video chat” games you can play. But of course, there’ll be some Dates 101 flare added for good measure. Let’s begin with the one you’ve probably heard people doing already.

Video Chat First Date

The is easily the most obvious date idea out there for dating during a pandemic, and I wouldn't be surprised if you’ve heard about this date already. It’s easy enough, hop on to your preferred video chat application, and ‘simulate’ a first date with someone on the other side. Better yet, it can (and will) be used multiple times throughout your isolation weeks because its a fantastic way to communicate with someone! If you’re planning on doing this, I would recommend you start off simple: look presentable (not like you’ve just woken up), set a time where there won't be any distractions, get some wine (or any drink of your choice) and get to know your date. Now, the problem with this date idea in my opinion is it could get really awkward, really fast. What if the lighting isn't good, or what if you run out of things to talk about? I would write out a few topics on a piece of paper beforehand, in case you run into this issue. Some topics of discussion could be...

-What are you doing to pass the time during isolation?

-What do you do for a living/ If you could do anything else what would it be

-Where have you traveled/ Where would you like to travel once this is over?

-What do you like to do for fun/ What are your hobbies?

-What’s your family like?

-Tell some of your favourite memories

Being prepared is key for this kind of date, and with a list I’m sure your nerves will quickly vanish. Also, don't forget to keep it out of sight.

Movie Watching

The next date idea requires both of you to have a Netflix account (or similar streaming service). Pretty much you're going to watch a movie together. Simple right? Well, not so fast. Like the video chat date, I’ve seen this idea many times as well. And while I think it could be really fun, I’m afraid most people have never tried watching a movie while trying to talk to someone at the same time. Talk about audio overload... Now, it definitely could be done. Have the volume on the Tv or computer low and the audio on your video chat high. Did I mention you’re doing this on video chat? No? Well that's because it can be done other ways. You could always talk on the phone while watching the movie, which would work much better in my opinion (specifically because you don't want to be focused on 2 screens at once). But I believe the best way to experience this date idea is actually through text; albeit in the chat itself or with your phone (if you're not using it to communicate) Why text? Well, for one its much quieter and less distracting. And two, I feel like the conversation would be a lot better! You can text what you think is going to happen next, who you think the bad guy is, who’s gonna die next, or how scared you are at that very second (if watching a horror movie). It’s also a completely different way of communication, which can be a nice change of pace coming from the video chat date. But feel free to use any method you wish.

Question and Answer

Like the previous date idea, this can be done through video, phone call or text. But can I make another suggestion? I really feel like the phone is the best method of communication for this one. Why? Because no one uses the phone anymore, and sometimes you want to talk to someone without worrying about how you look (where my sweatpants people at?). So for this idea, you're going to come up with A BUNCH of questions for your date to answer. What should the questions be? Well, anything you want to learn about your date honestly. It can range from the super basic like what's your favourite dessert to the total extreme like if there was a zombie apocalypse what would your game plan be? Ideally you’d want anywhere between 20 and 50 questions. “Wait, 50 questions!?!” Yup 50. The reason I want you to have so many is because you could do this idea multiple times if you wish, or keep the questions coming by text throughout the day. Am I going to tell you what questions to write? Nah, you’ll have to figure that one on your own. Once you’ve come up with your questions, you're going to simply go back and forth with your date answering each others questions (you decide if they're allowed to ask the same ones you asked).

Quick Video Chat Games

And there you have it, 3 core date ideas you can do without having to leave your house. But what if you’re looking for a more casual date idea? Here’s a bunch of light hearted video chat games you can do to pass the time.

-2 Truths 1 Lie

-Truth or Dare

-20 Questions

-Never Have I Ever

-Sausage (Pick 1 word, in this case “sausage”. Player 1 asks question and Player 2 must always answer with “sausage”. If Player 2 laughs, they lose. Player 1 gets 10 tries, and then the word changes)

-Questions Only (have a conversation only with questions, see who can last the longest)

-iMessage GamePigeon games

But before we go

Wow, this is a long post. But I wanted to give you a comprehensive list of things you can do, so bare with me because this is where things get real. Below you will find really unique, Dates 101 type of activities you can do with your date over video chat. These activities range from mundane to totally outrageous so hope you enjoy!

Video Chat Outside- Show your date your neighbourhood or cool areas in your city (watch out for data overages). Don't forget to keep your distance from people

Video Chat Drinking Games- can be done while talking or watching a tv show (drink every time you/they do *blank*)

Dinner Date- Eat dinner while talking over video chat (try to make the same meal and see who’s turned out better)

Dinner Theme- Same as above, only have a theme attached to it (Western food, Mexican food, Sushi, Pizza)

Romantic Dinner- Dress up really fancy (maybe add some candles too)

Cooking Channel- Start your dinner date in the kitchen, both must have the same ingredients. One of you is the head chef and directs the other on how to make a delicious meal. Watch each other make the same food and see who’s turns out the best

Guy’s Grocery Games- Be on the phone with each other as you search the grocery store. Each of you picks 3 ingredients that the other must use in their dish. See who can make the best meal with the chosen ingredients included

Bob Ross- Video chat each other while listening to an episode of Bob Ross and painting. Who’s the better painter?

Stranger- Want to make your first date super memorable? Video chat for the first time wearing a whole bunch of clothing on your face (hats, sunglasses, bandanas, etc.). Take turns asking about each other. For example, do you like cookies, do you listen to Ed Sheeran? If the answer is yes, they must take off a piece of headwear. Play until their face is finally revealed.

Wrap Up

So that was a lot of ideas thrown at you, but that was the point. Hopefully there’s enough here to keep the two of you occupied until this pandemic is over. Don’t feel like using these ideas, or dating for that matter? No worries, you can always do this stuff with your friends! Or wait until we’re allowed to interact with each other again to start dating face to face. But in the meantime, let’s all do our best to get through this thing together, one day at a time.

Remember, make every date a story.

Dates 101

#dating #date ideas #date idea #coronavirus #corvid19 #quarantine date #first date #first date ideas #video chat date #dates101

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spoooky-bee · 4 years ago

Note

ACCEPTING ANXIETY, Part 1/2: Excepting Anxiety!

[Thomas]: Uh, hey…uh- this is Thomas, and, uh--this is usually where I start off, uh- by saying something quick and witty to begin the video. Yeah.

*logo*

[Thomas]: So yeah! Another video. This is awesome! Oh wait, actually, I usually start off this video by saying “What is up, everybody!” But you know, I don’t actually hear your responses. And, strangely enough, I’m not concerned about consistency today. You know what I wanna talk about? Eatin’ food. Or you know what, actually? Maybe about that TV show I just watched. Or maybe I should just watch another TV show and eat some food. That’s it. Alright, until next time. Take it easy, guys, gals, and non-binary pals--

[Logan]: Uh, if I may… I’m going to step in for a second.

[Thomas]: Ahh, Logan’s here, so I probably did something wrong.

[Logan]: What? No. You just seem to be a little… uncharacteristically… careless.

[Thomas]: Hm. I hadn’t cared to notice. Ah- pfft, that’s it, there it is, that’s what you were saying.

[Logan]: Yes… I mean you tend to start the video with at least some sort of direction before the inevitable internal conflict.

[Thomas]: They do usually follow that story arc. But, maybe, that’s a good thing. You know, like, changing it up.

[Logan]: No. I mean… maybe. I don’t know, you’re confusing me. I think I have a vocab word for this. Uh. You good, fahm?

[Thomas]: Wow. That was bad, but like, you’re a really good try-er, Logan. You’re really good.

[Logan]: Thanks.

[Thomas]: ...If anybody, like, texted me… ooh!

[Logan]: Thomas, you didn’t answer the question.

[Thomas]: Your question about whether or not I’m good, fam?

[Logan]: That’s the one.

[Thomas]: You’d probably know if something is up because you usually provide, you know, the explanatory exposition in my videos because all the other characters are too zany or relatable.

[Logan]: Okay, I’m at a loss here. Should we check on the others?

[Thomas]: If you want.

[Logan]: I do. I do want… that. Are you going to-

[Thomas]: Morality! Creativity!

[Roman]: Wow. Rude.

[Patton]: You too cool to call us by our names, kiddo?

[Thomas]: Nah. That was just the easiest way to, you know, quickly establish what you guys generally represent, in case there are any new viewers watching.

[Logan]: Jeez. Okay, I- consider taking a more nuanced approach with that explanation next time.

[Thomas]: He’s my logical side. He’s my logical side.

[Roman]: Uh… is everything Gucci, Thomas?

[Logan]: I suppose I could’ve posed the question that way as well, but that is precisely why I wanted you two here.

[Patton]: You mean us three?

[Logan]: Oh, did I say three?

[Patton]: No.

[Logan]: Then I guess I didn’t mean three.

[Patton]: He’s made mistakes before.

[Logan]: An uncommon occurrence.

[Patton]: Well then you might say the amount of mistakes you’ve made is... infinitesimal?

[Logan]: You make ONE MISTAKE, and THIS is what happens!

[Roman]: Okay, time out for thee and time out for thee, focus on issues or focus on me.

[Logan]: -groans- Okay, you’re right. Let’s get down to business.

[Thomas]: To defeat…

[Thomas and Roman]: The Huns!

[Logan]: Please stop. Stop, please.

[Thomas]: Come on!

[Roman]: I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

[Thomas]: Mulan!

[Logan]: Thomas, that aloofness that you are displaying is highly… unproductive.

[Thomas]: You mean I can’t make babies? What? Just kidding. Uh...

[Logan]: Can someone else please- some whe- le- Flames. On the side of my face. See- Seething… Seething fire.

[Patton]: Is something bothering you buddy?

[Roman]: An unattainable dream? A hopeless romance?

[Logan]: Lack of sleep, a- a puzzling situation.

[Patton]: Having trouble with adultery?

[Thomas]: Oh yeah, you always say that instead of ‘becoming an adult’ or ‘adulthood’. As if you didn’t know the troubling definition of the word you’re using, which actually means, you know, when a-

[Roman]: Wait! Pumbaa, not in front of the kids.

[Patton]: Well, I don’t know what you two are talking about, but something definitely seems to be off.

[Thomas]: You keep saying that, but honestly, I’m good… fam.

[Patton]: Now, don’t you go shortening the word family by cutting out my three favorite letters: I L Y.

[Logan]: Okay, well, Patton definitely seems to be doing okay. How ‘bout you, Roman?

[Roman]: Let’s see, uh… Disney references, regal appearance, general awareness that I’m better than you two… Uhh, I’m feeling pretty good.

[Logan]: Then what could be wrong here?

[Patton]: Boy, you both always act like you know all the answers… So, it’s surprising that you keep overlooking something so simple.

[Roman]: Oh, is that so, Patton? You're so cute.

[Logan]: And, uh- what might that be?

[Patton]: Where is Anxiety?

[Logan]: Hmm, do you honestly think it’s necessary to have him here?

[Roman]: To offer his mopey, dopey input? I- I don’t like him.

[Thomas]: I’m still hungry.

[Logan]: No- No.

[Roman]: S-Stop him. Stop him!

[Thomas]: *Singing to himself while looking in the kitchen*

[Logan]: Thomas, this is highly… -sighs- We can’t afford these detours… anymore.

[Thomas]: Ooh! I found some granola!

[Roman]: We’re try- we’re doing a- we’re doing a vid here, buddy.

[Logan]: Alright. Well, at least it’s something healthy.

[Roman]: Thomas, isn’t there a more important thing that you should be focusing on right now? Oh, you’re just getting it all over the carpet, aren’t ya? Alright, well…

[Logan]: Wh- What if you have guests over?

[Thomas]: That wouldn’t happen for a while so it’s not really a big deal.

[Patton]: Well, he’s definitely inviting some ants over. -chuckles-

[Logan]: Just aunts? No uncles?

[Roman]: Can you at least- Can you take off the hoodie? Like, you look like a hot mess. Nay, not hot, cool. Nay, not cool, uncool. An uncool mess.

[Thomas]: If you want me to. *takes of hood revealing very messy untamed hair*

[Roman]: Oh, dear, sweet MOTHER of hairbrushes, what IS your hair?!

[Thomas]: I’m just letting it do it’s thing.

[Roman]: There’s a… lot of viewers that are going to see you like this so-

[Thomas]: Eh, they’ve seen me on better days, so it evens out.

[Logan]: You know, Thomas, I don’t know if that makes sense.

[Patton]: You have kind hair.

[Thomas]: Oh, thanks I guess.

[Patton]: Kinda hair that grows on a dog’s butt! *laughs*

[Thomas]: That’s probably an accurate comparison.

[Roman]: Ugh, just put your hood back on.

[Thomas]: *snaps his fingers* You’re the boss, Hoss.

[Roman]: What does that even mean? I’m not… Hoss. I’m Prince Roman. Ugh, okay. Well, better bring in Count Woe-laf. Any input is better than what Mr. T is contributing.

[Thomas]: Roman brought the clever nicknames to the table, I brought the oats and honey clusters to the table.

[Roman]: Put them down!

[Thomas]: Okay.

[Logan]: Fine. Let’s get him in here. Anxiety? Hm. That’s odd.

[Roman]: He’s probably listening to that PG-13 music again. Anxiety! *tries to summon Anxiety* Ugh. How dare he? What?

[Patton]: Now, now, try to be a little more loving. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Anxiety! Come on up here, kiddo. Come on up here so everyone can see that cool makeup! Welp, love has failed me.

[Thomas]: Ho-ho-ho! That can be applied to many instances in my life. The first being-

[Roman]: Steady now, Thomas. Are we really going down that road? Uh, you usually don’t like talking about that kind of stuff.

[Logan]: You’ve got no shame.

[Patton]: Definitely not much of a filter.

[Roman]: Yes, and no fear…

[Logan, Patton, and Roman]: You have no-

[Thomas]: I have no anxiety, is that what you guys are trying to say?

[Roman]: Okay… Well, he also has no sense of tension build-up. That’s disappointing.

[Logan]: This is very disconcerting.

[Roman]: I don’t know. Shouldn’t a lack of fear be a good thing?

[Patton]: -gasp- Roman, I’m surprised at you.

[Roman]: What?

[Patton]: Anxiety can be a gloomy goober sometimes, but he’s still one of us.

[Roman]: Is he though? Check it out. Morality, Logic, Creativity. We three, are the most important facets of Thomas’ personality. Plus we all contribute a little extra stuff too. We got along just fine without him in the first two Sanders Sides videos.

[Logan]: He may not have had a physical presence, but he was always there within Thomas, to some extent. And he contributes more than what you credit him. Plus, he too, may represent more than just anxiety, even though it is a significant part of who he is.

[Roman]: Even still, I just don’t see why he’s necessary. If Anxiety is gone, what do we have to lose?

[Thomas]: I don’t fear death.

[Patton]: Wow.

[Roman]: So, you’re super brave. That’s good.

[Logan]: There’s a difference between bravery and acting without caution. Think fast! *Chucks a laptop which hits Thomas in the back of the head*

[Roman]: Oh, my- sweet Cole Sprouse, what-

[Thomas]: That really hurt. Was that a laptop? That, like, hurt real bad. Woah…

[Logan]: Unalert, and without his natural defensive reflexes. Yes, it seems that Anxiety has officially clocked out.

[Roman]: Okay. Well, he can work on that.

[Logan]: Thomas, did you remember to lock your motor vehicle earlier today?

[Thomas]: I probably did, I’m not sure, but probably.

[Logan]: Weaker memory.

[Roman]: Wh- that’s not a symptom of a lack of anxiety.

[Logan]: Not directly, but with the anxiety over leaving his car unlocked… Thomas always double checks to make sure, securing that memory in place.

[Thomas and Patton]: I doubt anyone will go looking through my [his] car- oh my gosh [goodness]!

[Patton]: You just see the best in people.

[Logan]: But he can’t always afford to.

[Patton]: Ugh, yeah… I guess you’re right.

[Thomas]: Well, it sounds like I’m in trouble or something.

[Roman]: No, it sounds like these two are worrying too much.

[Logan]: That’s the thing- is anyone among us worried?

[Patton]: It’s because he isn’t worried and that doesn’t seem right, Roman.

[Thomas]: Princey’s never liked Anxiety, that’s his problem!

[Roman]: That’s not true.

[Thomas]: Mmm…

-flash back-

[Anxiety]: Hey there, Princey.

[Roman]: Ohhkay, I can’t stand that guy.

-switch flashback-

[Roman]: (as Valerie) I’m trying REALLY hard not to like you right now.

-switch flashback-

[Roman]: Still don’t like you.

[Anxiety]: What was that?

[Roman]: Uh- chim chim cheroo!

-switch flashback-

[Roman]: To offer his mopey, dopey input? I- I don’t like him.

-end flashback-

[Roman]: Oh, now your memory works… That’s convenient.

[Logan]: It is interesting to note that Patton and I have both had our moments of seeing eye to eye with Anxiety… But you seem to remain resolute as ever in how you perceive him.

[Roman]: Look, I am the dreamer, and the one BIG thing that gets in the way of pursuing any new adventure, is fear.

[Thomas]: *holds up a pair of jeans* Took my pants off!

[Roman]: Why?!

[Patton]: Hey, now.

[Thomas]: No one can see, I don’t care.

[Logan]: Yup, we are getting your anxiety and shame back. I cannot deal with any more of this ridiculousness.

[Patton]: You put them back. Right now.

[Thomas]: Alright, fine. Well, if Anxiety’s not here, where is he?

[Roman]: Ugh, probably in his room.

[Thomas]: His room?

[Logan]: Technically, it’s the corner of your mind that you go to if you wanted to enhance your anxiety, for some reason… Or if you wanted to cathartically indulge in typically troubling emotions. Think, “the mind palace,” but specifically for Anxiety.

[Roman]: Where else do you think we come from? Where do we go?

[Patton]: Where did you come from Cotton-Eye Joe?

[Thomas]: So, you all have one? Oh, my goodness- more stuff I’m learning about myself. Uh, I’d rather go to Patton’s. Can we go there?

[Logan]: Nope. We need to go to Anxiety’s room to check on Anxiety. This is the priority, do you remember what we just... were talking about?

[Thomas]: Ah, okay.

[Roman]: So we’re all going to Anxiety’s room? Who knows what THAT tragic kingdom looks like? Hhmm…

[Patton]: Are you going to join us on this Thomas? ‘Cause we need you to get us all there.

[Thomas]: Yeah, it sounds fun or whatever.

[Logan]: Ohhkay. I thought I would like you without your… never-ending assembly line of predicaments, but this is truly, truly bothersome.

[Roman]: Just focus on the things that would normally make you anxious. That is the corner of your mind where we need to go. It may be difficult to go down that road-

[Thomas]: Got it.

[Roman]: ...Yeah, okay. There is no drama in this today.

[Logan]: Ugh. Into the unknown. Here we go.

[Patton]: ♪ Again on my own, going down Anxiety’s corner in Thomas’ mind… ♪

[Thomas]: Oh, I guess I’m doing this too. This is new.

-in Anxiety’s room-

[Thomas]: Woah. -chuckles- I knew I should’ve taken that left turn at Albuquerque. *snaps his fingers*

[Logan]: Uh, no. This is where we needed to go.

[Thomas]: I know, I- it was- it was just a- uhm… a joke.

*To be continued Guys, gals, and non-binary pals…*

*end card*

[Roman]: Wh- are- are you serious? A cliffhanger for a YouTube video??

[Logan]: Highly unusual… and frustrating.

[Patton]: Oh, I’m sure it won’t be that bad. How long do we have to wait?

[Logan]: According to Thomas’s schedule, just a couple of days.

[Patton]: Yay! And knowing Thomas, he’ll get this video out when he says he will, right on time.

[Logan and Roman]: Riiiight…

Oh my stars. I read this whole thing btw. I didn't actually expect you to do it. Dang.

#asks #Lee!!#reading this made me really happy for some reason #probably the memories #i love the AA ark sm

2 notes · View notes

fmdxsujiarchive · 4 years ago

Text

summary: it’s another suji song about something non-romantic that gets disguised as a love song anyway date: various dates throughout 2020 word count: 2,590 words, excluding the lyrics notes: creative claims (full lyrics, full composition, partial production) for when we were two! mentions of duri and jae since they’ll be a part of the song.

“what’s with all the rapping features in your songs?”

suji’s in the middle of scribbling down a sudden thought that had popped into her mind because she’s certain it could be transcribed into some thoughtful lyrics later on when minwoo’s voice interrupts her thought. the pen in her hand stops moving, and she looks up from the notebook to give him a look. a look that reflects that she hadn’t realized that her songs so far have been rich with rap features.

“isn’t that how a lot of female ballad songs go when it’s not being sung completely solo?” she does not have a solid answer for minwoo’s question and instead hums to herself before sketching out some incoherent drawings at the corner of her notebook. why does she have so many rap features in her songs? she begins to wonder if it was a conscious choice or if it was more along the lines of suggestions being thrown out to her about how a rap feature would sound nice in her songs. it’s most likely a good combination of both.

a familiar beat is playing in the background, and it’s only then that she notices that minwoo is going through a mock tracklist that suji had come up with for her next album. though it’s a tad bit early to be sure whether or not all the songs will be confirmed or not, she likes to think that she at least has a good ear when it comes to her own albums. humming along to the melody of one of the songs, she goes silent when the rap feature comes on.

“what about a vocal feature? have you ever done that before?”

“just last month, i released that portal.” it’s not meant to sound defensive, but suji can’t remember if she’s done anything beyond loveship when it comes to any type of vocal duet.

for a moment, minwoo doesn’t say much before going onto the next song which also was written with a rap feature in mind. he presses pause on the computer before pulling up the other computer chair in the studio and sitting right across her. “i think a vocal duet would be nice for this next album since you have a lot of songs with raps on it anyway. it might even be easier to write. this way you don’t have to wait around and just write the lyrics on your own.” she wants to say that she doesn’t mind waiting for her featuring rappers to send their raps for her to confirm, but it has been a bother in the past especially if the featuring artist was busy which they usually were. with a purse of her lips, she simply nods once before pressing the space bar once more to play her tracks.

with fuse and individual schedules, suji had found it difficult to find the time to write. it’s been a couple of weeks since her last time at minwoo’s studio, and this time she seems to be alone. the lights are off as she punches the passcode and lets herself in. the notebook that she’d left behind from last time is exactly where she left it, and she can’t help but smile at how minwoo just seems to leave her things where they are though she’s told him over and over again how he can push it to the side during the days she has to leave in a hurry.

sitting down, she looks at the notebook in which she had scribbled down some notes. she couldn’t finish it that day as her thoughts were occupied by minwoo’s words, but she remembers where the inspiration came from. it’s typical suji to get inspired by movies and dramas. just from her notes, she can replay the scene she got inspiration from in her head: the female lead looking out the bus window and wiping away her tears as a smile starts to form on her face.

for someone with not a lot of love experience, suji has a tendency to write songs about love and relationships. not particularly a choice seeing that a lot of songs out there pertain to such topics, but sometimes she surprises herself with how often she finds herself writing about such things. it’s what prompts all those questions in her interviews about whether or not her lyrics are personal or not. they are personal, yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s one hundred percent something she’s been through herself.

her life’s not that interesting enough anyway.

looking back at her notes, she remembers the story about how the female lead had tried again and again to get back with her ex-lover, hoping to reconcile things between them. the constant flashbacks to their happier moments and the warm feelings that would seep through her body whenever she thought of him. or at least that’s what she thought.

it took meeting someone that actually cared for her and listened to her for her to realize that it wasn’t the person that she missed but the times. that’s something that she can relate to. there’s a couple of friends that she remembers from her childhood, and they were the ones that are always lingering around in her childhood memories. the afternoons at the park or lunches in the school cafeteria. a couple years ago, she’d look back at these times and wonder what those same friends are doing now but now, she came to the realization that they weren’t really that great of friends. they stood around when their other classmates would point out how different amelia was from the rest of them. thinking back to it now, they really weren’t that great of friends. but the childhood nostalgia is real, and the moments she shared with them aren’t incredibly terrible.

suji simply misses the time when she was an innocent child who could do lots without much consequences. however, she doesn’t miss them.

perhaps that’s why she started scribbling down these notes as soon as she finished the scene, and why she’s come back to it. the emotions come pouring out in a moment of black words onto the white piece of lined paper.

in a few moments, the lined paper is filled up with verses and a chorus. it’s something that looks more like a cry of mixed up nostalgia disguised into a song of a romantic relationship. suji takes pride in being able to write lyrics that people relate to, and it’s the perspective she takes in making things vague but specific enough so that a larger amount of people can find them worth relating to.

there’s still some revisions to do especially when it comes to the way the words fall together, but she’s got a story. a story that began from a television drama but was completed with a spark of memory.

when we were two is what she writes at the top and though she’s unsure if the title will stick, she’s satisfied with what she’s written.

“suji-yah, sometimes you write like you’ve been through two divorces.”

it’s not the feedback she expects, but it’s typical jaehyuk talk. he’s always straightforward and has an odd way of expressing his reactions to her work. but he’s also super helpful. if minwoo’s like her little fairy godmother that snaps his fingers and figures out exactly what she’s looking for, jaehyuk’s like a harsh captain that makes her pull the sails herself though he was steering the wheel into the right direction the whole time.

either way, she doesn’t know where she’d be without both of them.

like a good amount of her songs, the basis begins with the piano. it’s basic and simple, but she believes that it is always a nice place to start. everything gets built off of chords anyway, and the sound of the piano is what seems to go well with her voice anyway. though the backtrack is still bare, suji can already tell that the key signature isn’t going to be the happiest. the lyrics aren’t about some spring outing or a walk in the park. it’s all about looking back at what used to be and realizing that the times were great even if the person wasn’t. it’s about this deep feeling of regret that’s not actually regret but rather nostalgia. she thinks it’s a difficult emotion to express through an instrumental, but she’d like to try her best.

the melody for the chorus comes to her first which is quite common when it comes to her working process. a strong chorus is important to suji, and so she usually ends up coming up with it first. however, unlike some of her previous songs, it doesn’t come right away. she has to sing the words to herself a couple of times, rewrite some of the bending and work on the way she wants the lines to flow until she settles on something that she likes. looking over, jaehyuk is working on something on his own, but the moment she figures out a chorus melody she likes, he gives her a thumbs up, and it feels like she’s floating on cloud nine.

she’s interrupted for a moment when her phone lights up. it’s an excited text from minwoo telling her that one of her songs have been confirmed for the album, and how he’d received the rap recording from the featuring artist. biting down on her lip, she’s reminded of minwoo’s words a couple of months ago.

“oppa, you mind singing this for me? any key works for now,” she asks before singing the chorus a couple of times so that jaehyuk can revise it to fit his own voice. but jaehyuk’s quick, and he’s been listening in to her working on the song that he figures it out in no time.

almost immediately, a smile spreads across her face before she pulls his chair over to bring him in front of the mic that she’s been singing in front of. she asks him to record it for her and soon she has the chorus in her voice and jaehyuk’s.

“don’t tell me you need me on this song or something.” there’s a scrunch of jaehyuk’s nose, but she knows that he’s not too bothered by it. it’s just the way he is.

“no, but you’d work as a nice guide vocal.” admittedly, she already has one or two voices in her head that she thinks will work well with her own and she makes a mental note to herself to reach out to them when she can. hopefully the timing and song will work out in her favor. if not, she’s gonna have to adjust things again to fit some other voice.

things go rather smoothly from there. suji sticks to the sound of the piano in the beginning of the track, preferring for the vocal line to be more prominent than the instrumental. it’s cliche, but she’d like the song to build as it is highly emotional. the most emotional part of the song should be the last chorus, and so she needs minimal instruments in the beginning.

by the time the first chorus comes by, all she’s added was the synth and drum along with the piano. the second verse minimizes the piano and includes a few strings and guitar. something different but not too different that the instruments overpower the vocals.

time flies when she’s in the studio, and she doesn’t realize that she’s spent pretty much all day working on the song until she’s done. she saves the file three different times all with three different names so that she can send them out to the people she had in mind.

jaehyuk is sleeping on the couch in the back since she had him record the guide first before she went ahead and added her own voice onto the track. he tells her that he’ll email the respective companies tomorrow since she has schedules.

she’s not sure what she’d do without him.

luckily, things do work out in her favor, and she ends up getting the okay for both duri and jae to be on her track. unfortunately, they’re all too busy to meet up and record the track together. although she doesn’t really sing a whole lot of the song, it’s still technically her’s and will be on her album, and so she’s the first to record.

the gold star recording studios basically feel like home now as she does some vocal warm ups to soothe out her vocal cords. jaehyuk and minwoo are both outside, but they tell her that they’d like for her to guide them the way she wants the song to sound. though she’s taken back by the sudden proposition, she does have quite a clear idea of how she wants the vocals and overall song to sound so it doesn’t sound like too much work.

with jaehyuk and her vocals coming through the headsets in the form of a vocal guide, she simply starts singing the whole song. one, because she’d like to warm up her vocals a little more before officially getting into recording and two, because it also helps build her own emotions when it comes to the song.

after a few recordings, she gives them an okay sign which indicates that she’s ready to begin. it takes a couple of tries before she gets the sound she wants out from her own voice. jaehyuk’s quick to replay it for her, and she bites the inside of her cheek—something doesn’t feel entirely right.

“i’m gonna try that part again, oppa. i think i should tone down my vibrato and go with a straight tone instead.” jaehyuk doesn’t bother responding before turning the track back on. suji goes back to think about her initial thoughts when it came to the song. the song’s not some sad breakup song like some of the ones she’s sung before. it’s not meant to be overly sad or regretful. it’s meant to be more along the lines of acceptance. acceptance that one realizes that they’re allowed to hold onto memories despite not missing the person involved in the memories. the vocals should be calm and composed but still strong.

so that’s exactly how she records it this next time.

“i think that sounds really good.” she hadn’t realized it, but she’s closed her eyes and sang the whole song in one take with those thoughts lingering in her head. minwoo’s voice is what exactly makes her open her eyes again, and the faces of her helping producers tell her that it’s a sound that they’re all going to be satisfied with.

they replay it for her, and she likes the calmness that her voice holds. stepping out of the studio, she gives them high fives and goes to sit down beside jaehyuk to hear it once more. her thoughts don’t change, and she concludes that her recording session is over.

“do you mind telling bc and dimensions that i’d like duri oppa and jae’s voices to sort of mimic mine? you know, collected but strong. as if they’re speaking to an old friend and retelling their memories. as jaehyuk oppa said about me, maybe tell them to imagine that they’ve just gone through a clean and mutual divorce and are reminiscing on the times that were once good and not too regretful.”

that gets her a laugh from both producers, but they say yes anyway.

she can’t wait to hear the completed song.

#fmdverification #( ♡ * // self para: happiness. )#[ finished my verifs for her album hell yeah ]#[ i'm never doing this again ]

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outerspaceisbetterthannothing · 5 years ago

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Hi. So my req was that, the reader has a super bad day and all she wants is just to go home to cal and sleep all day. She tells this to cal over phone, and knowing that she is really upset, cal just goes off, makes her fav food and has all her fav movies lined up, along with blankets and cocoa and one his hoodies she absolutely loves!?! If this doesn't go through I'll start crying right here right now!

Okay, so, i changed it a little cause i’m all here for the understanding and reading between lines and also lol, sorry, but i don’t think Calum’s cooking skills are so high, i love my baby, but i won’t believe he can cook real real food until i see it with my own eyes. Still, i hope you’ll like it 🖤

It seemed like even the beeping of the phone line was irritating you. You took a deep breath and tried to make your voice as calm as possible.

He answered after the third beep.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?”

“Quick question. Can I stay at your place tonight?” you blurted out what you prepared in advance.

“Sure,” Calum answered, a little confused. You’d been dating long enough for you to show up at his place at any time day and night. Plus you had your own key and was using it successfully for some time already. Calum even went so far to think about moving in together, not like you knew about it or anything. The point was, you were far past the point in your relationship when you had to ask such questions.

“Kay, see you after work. Bye!” you dropped in your fake cheerful voice.

“Hey, hey, hey, hold on for a sec,” he stopped you. You knew he would sense something was wrong. You rolled your eyes, preparing to defend. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you assured him. “We just didn’t discuss plans for tonight, so I decided to ask. I gotta go work. Talk to you in the evening.”

And with that you hung up. And breathed out.

You didn’t lie to him, you thought. You two hadn’t discussed plans for the evening and you weren’t sure if he was gonna be home or not. And you wanted to check it. You could have done it through the texts, yes. But you also needed to hear his voice. It was that simple. In the middle of that horrible day, knowing you still had hours till you could see him, you just needed to hear his voice, without making him worry for you. You smiled to the home screen of your phone, being the picture of the two of you and Duke, switched off your phone and left the bathroom. You still had several hours left at work and you needed to survive them.

When you opened the door to Calum’s house you heard him messing around the kitchen. Duke ran up to you and instantly rolled on his back, giving you full access to his tummy. You smiled and bent down and pat him where he wanted, assuring him that he was one shameless dog but you loved him nonetheless.

“You’re spoiling him too much!” Calum laughed at the two of you from the kitchen. He couldn’t see you, but he knew your with Duke routine well.

“Well, someone should,” you answered, entering the kitchen and freezing on the spot. “What’s all this about?”

You were gaping at his ginormous kitchen island with three pizzas from your favourite italian pizzeria downtown, bottle of red wine and a bright bouquet of flowers in a vase. Calum was just taking the plates off the cupboard. He looked back at you and shrugged.

“How was your day?” he asked instead.

You shrugged. And felt like it all fell on your shoulders. The next moment you found yourself clinging on Calum’s shoulders, his massive arms enveloped around your much smaller frame. You tried not to start sobbing into his chest, but lost that battle pretty fast.

“Hey, baby, it’s all okay,” Calum was cooing over you.

“Everything was just so wrong today,” you started quietly. “I was too early to work and had to wait when they open the office and then one of the people from my department messed up with the report and my boss yelled at me, and then I had to fix that report and didn’t have time for lunch and my friend called and said so happily that she made a reservation for us in this restaurant we wanted to go for so long, but she didn’t even ask me beforehands and booked a table to the same day when that award of yours is supposed to be, and I told her I couldn’t come, cause I promised you much earlier and we had that stupid fight, and on top of it all I got yelled at my boss again after finishing that report for taking so long,” you finished being completely out of breath.

“Okay, breathe,” Calum said, his hand drawing circles on your back, his cheek pressed to the crown of your head. “This day is over. And your friend will come to her senses and you’ll make up. And you can always leave this job and find something better.”

“I like my job,” you protested. “I hate my boss, that’s different.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Go change in something comfortable and we’ll eat. And then we can watch something and I’ll make you cocoa or we’ll just cuddle to music or just go straight to bed and sleep that awful day over.”

You nodded, letting go of him and trailed to his bedroom. He left you his green hoodie you loved so much, and you picked you leggins out of the drawer he let you use something that seemed like an eternity ago. You changed and felt the familiar scent envelope you. You felt the urge to cry again, this time of the feelings of amazing happiness and tranquility Calum was brinning to your life. You came back to the kitchen, wine and pizza waiting for you. You finished with your dinner and moved to the couch, Duke joined in your cuddle fest.

Halfway through your favourite movie you looked up at calum and asked, “Did you take that hoodie off yourself for me?”

He just shrugged. Then looked back at you, feeling you still staring at him. “I just know my smell calms you down.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled, shaking your head. Than another question popped up in your mind. “How did you know in the first place?”

“How did I know what?”

“That I had an off day.”

“I didn’t know,” he tried to lie, but that never worked with you.

You looked back up at him, eyebrows quirked, “My favourite pizza from my favourite place, wine, hoodie and you let me choose the film, which happens like only on Christmas and my birthday. You knew I had and awful day.”

He sighed, “Well, Sherlock, then remind me when was the last time you called me to ask if you can stay at my place?”

You opened your mouth to proceed some kind of answer. And you just couldn’t. Because the answer would be never, but damn if you’re saying it out loud.

“Exactly,” he mumbled and kissed your forehead.

“I so don’t deserve you, Calum Hood,” you whispered, laying your head back on his chest.

“You deserve the best,” he whispered back. “And that’s exactly what I’m gonna give you.”

#calum hood #calum5sos #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #5sos #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #calum fluff #my writing #my blurb #500 followers celebration blurbs #asks #requests #bringmethehorizonandpizza

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 5 years ago

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Outside the Rain - Harry Styles Series (Part 11)

Part 10

“Woah, woah, woah,” you said looking at your manager in a group meeting. “You want us... to perform at the VMA’s? Before the single drops? Isn’t the whole point to have a surprise drop?”

“Yes, but what about a surprise performance? You could do a simple medley of some of your biggest hits and end with the new single,” she said. “No one besides a few people at MTV will know.”

“We know that never works,” Daisy said. “But I don’t hate the idea. I really wanna get back out on stage and I just think it'll be super bad ass to do it.”

“But aren’t the VMA’s like in two days?” You asked. “How the hell are we going to put together a show in two fucking days?”

“We’ve done it before,” Rachel said.

“True, but we haven’t performed in YEARS together,” you said.

“Are you saying you don’t want to do it?” Daisy asked.

“I never said that,” you sighed. “I just wanted don’t want to have ass something just to make it possible. If we do this, it’s gotta be as close to perfect as possible.”

“We got this, Y/N,” Rachel said. “It’s like riding a bike.”

“I can’t ride a bike for shit,” you joked.

“Yeah, well, not our fault,” she smirked.

Once it was decided your group would be performing at the VMA’s, you were in stress and work mode. You all decided to take a quick lunch break and then get to brainstorming and getting with your choreographers. You knew this would be a huge thing for your “comeback”, but putting on a performance in two days... when you were starting from scratch was unheard of.

You texted Harry to meet you for lunch near the studio. You knew the next few days were going to be a whirlwind, so you needed at least an hour of calm. You had arrived at the cafe before Harry and waved to him when he walked into inside.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked.

“We’re performing at the VMA’s,” you whispered.

“WHAT! Holy shit!” He said. “That’s amazing, baby.”

“Did I mention it’s in two fucking days and we’ve got zero plans right now?” You groaned.

“Oh, yeah, that’s fucked,” he said.

You glared at him, “That’s not helping.”

“Sorry,” he winced. “Look, I know there’s pressure, but I’m sure you’re going to do great. You girls always put on a show. Is it going to be announced?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “No one is going to know until we’re on stage.”

“That’s so fucking bad ass,” he said.

“What is with you and Daisy!” You groaned.

“Am I missing something?” He laughed.

“Not really,” you laughed. “Anyway, so I really hate this because you came all the way here, but I don’t know how free I’m going to be the next few days.”

“Baby,” he said taking your hand into his, “It’s okay. I understand. I’m here for a while. Now, the real question is... do I get to join rehearsals?”

“It’d be boring as hell,” you said.

“Not for me,” he smiled. “I want to see how you work.”

“Don’t you want to be surprised for the final performance?” You asked.

“I’ll love it either way,” he smiled.

“Speaking of the performance,” you said. “Would you want to be my date for the VMA’s or is that like.. too soon for us?”

Harry took a sip of his water and hesitated for a bit. “I mean, I would love to go. I want to go, but I don’t know if we should arrive together, if that makes sense.”

You were a little disappointed at his answer, but you completely understood.

“It does,” you said. “And it’s in New Jersey... We’re going to do a day here and then fly out tomorrow night.”

“Wow, that’s really cutting it close,” he sighed.

“Right? Like why wasn’t this decided like a week ago?” You sighed.

“Well, look at this way,” he said. “When you pull off an epic performance, you’ll get to say you put it together in less than two days.”

“Always looking on the bright side aren’t you?” You smiled.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he smiled.

It was the next day and you were in rehearsals. You spent the rest of yesterday, after your lunch with Harry, planning out the performance and now it was time to put it all together. You all had twelve hours before you boarded the plane to New Jersey and time started now.

Four hours had passed and you had run through the entire performance of four songs about ten times. Within the four songs, there were a couple of dance breaks and you felt like you were dying. You laid passed out on the floor, not literally, but you wished you were. You stared up at the ceiling.

“Why did we agree to do this again?” You groaned. “We’re halfway through this rehearsal and I’m already dying.”

“Why did we add so many dance breaks?” Daisy groaned. “My legs are jello.”

“Because that’s our thing,” Rachel sighed. “Why is that our thing?”

“Because we’re stupid,” you joked. “I’m starving, but I also feel like I’m gonna throw up if I eat.”

“Take it to the bathroom with that!” Rachel said.

You rolled your eyes. You heard the door of the studio open and you turned your head over in the direction. There was Harry holding a bag of something and about five smoothies in his hand.

“Give me!” You said reaching out your hand, not moving an inch.

He laughed looking at the four of you laying on the floor, “Um, did I miss something?”

“We’re dying,” Jess said.

“And we’re not joking. Every part of my body hurts like a bitch,” you groaned.

“So, I take it rehearsals are going well?” He asked sitting everything down on th ground.

“Fucking peachy,” Daisy said. “Anyway, I’m Daisy. Nice to finally meet you Harold.”

“It’s uh... Harry, actually,” he blushed. “And nice to meet you, as well.”

“Uh, I’m gonna call you Harold for now,” she said.

“It’s her thing,” you groaned. “She always calls my boyfriends by different names or nicknames until she’s sure about them.”

“Let’s just say I’ve never called anyone by their real name because they never made it that far,” she added.

“Noted,” Harry nodded. “And that’s going to change this time.”

“We’ll see,” she smirked.

“Don’t be fucking Rude, Daisy,” Rachel rolled her eyes. “Welcome, Harry. Sorry, we’re meeting looking like a bunch of hot ass messes.”

“No, you all look beautiful, lovely,” he said quickly.

“No, we don’t. We fucking stink,” Daisy said.

“It’s true,” you added. “Our sweat is sweating.”

“Well, I brought some food and smoothies. I figured you all would need some fuel,” he said changing the subject.

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled slowing sitting up. “Gah, my abs.”

“After our performance, we’re all going straight to the fucking spa,” Jess said.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Rachel said.

You all moved closer to the food and Harry sat next to you. You smiled kissing his cheek, “Thank you for bringing this.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. “So, besides being in miserable pain and sweat, how are you girls feeling about the performance.”

“I’ll admit I was little worried about it, but our last few run throughs went great. I’ve got faith we’re going to kill it on stage tomorrow night,” Rachel said.

“I have no doubt,” Harry said.

“So, Harry, have you always been a fan?” Daisy asked.

“How do you have the energy for twenty questions?” You groaned.

“It takes my mind off the pain,” she smirked.

“No, it’s fine,” Harry smiled. “And I have. My sister and I went to a few shows whenever you came to the UK.”

“That’s really adorable, actually,” Rachel smiled.

“Oh my god,” you shook your head. “I’m so sorry about this,” you said looking at Harry.

“Hey, this will save time during our flight tonight,” Daisy said. “He is going with us, right?”

You looked over at Harry, “Yeah, of course,” he said.

“Perfect,” she smirked. “So, basically it’s either we interrogate him now or on the plane.”

“How about neither?” You suggested. “Especially, since you three were so gun-ho on us getting together.”

“Doesn’t matter. We still have jobs to do,” Jess said.

“It’s fine,” Harry laughed. “I don’t mind it.”

“Just wait until she starts getting into the real personal details,” Rachel said. “You might be running for the hills after that.”

“Hey! That only happened one time and it was for the best was it not?” She smirked.

“What would I ever do without the three of you?” You joked.

“Die alone?” Daisy suggested.

You all laughed, winced, and finished eating before getting back to work.

Once you were finished with rehearsals, you went straight home to finish packing and freshen up before meeting everyone at the airport.

“I’m more than ready for a hot shower,” you groaned walking into your bedroom.

“I can’t believe you danced for over eight hours,” he said. “I would have passed out after like two.”

“Yeah, we’ll we can’t all be amazing dancers,” you joked. “Ow.”

“How long as it been since you’ve had rehearsals like today?” He asked.

“Since before the last tour we did together,” you said. “My solo stuff was never centered around dancing, so I never had a lot to practice.”

“Wow,” he said. “No wonder you all were about to die,” he laughed.

“Exactly,” you laughed turning on the shower and pulling off your sweaty clothes.

“Do you need me to do anything while you shower?” He asked standing in the doorway. “I can take the bags downstairs.”

“Or you can join me in the shower and rub my shoulders,” you said.

“Well, I can’t say no to that,” he smirked taking off his shirt.

You both get into the shower. Your tense muscles start to loosen up a bit as the hot water hits you. You close your eyes as Harry rubs your shoulders and leaves kisses on your neck.

“Getting on a plane is the last thing I want right now,” you groaned. “I just want to go to bed and sleep for four days.”

“We can sleep on the plane,” he said. “I’ll cuddle with you.”

“Yeah... that’s not gonna happen,” you said. “You’ve never flown with us... and well, sleep never happens.”

“Is this your way of telling me I should prepare myself?” he joked.

“Hell yeah,” you laughed.

“Bloody hell, what did I get myself into,” he laughed.

Once you were out of the shower, you got dressed, finished packing, and headed to the airport. It was still surreal that this was happening and even though you were beyond sore and a little nervous about what could happen, you couldn’t be more excited and pumped for what was to come.

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Outside the Rain

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quirkylibrarian-blog1 · 5 years ago

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Improve the Publications of your Properties by Internet and Multiply your Sales

Improve the Publications of your Properties by Internet and Multiply your Sales Learn in 5 minutes How to Improve Publications of Your Properties on OLX (or any other classified page) to Sell it 3 times Faster Let me put you in context ... You, like every Real Estate Agent, that moment comes when they understand that having an ACTIVE Internet presence is necessary to get more sales in your real estate business. I know that transition is not an easy thing, it is not for anyone. But no matter what, you've decided to take action. You took the risk ... Then you experimented with different platforms that allowed you to publish your properties for free ... Locanto, OLX, Fincaraiz, Metrocuadrado, and much more. But little by little you noticed that some are more efficient than others and you ended up being alone with 2 or maximum 3 where you have published since then. And sure OLX is within these three, right? However, you have noticed that while it has been efficient so far, you already begin to feel that something is not going as you would like. Do you want more! You don't feel happy with the results so far or you think things can be done better. And you wonder ... What can I do to improve my publications? How do I make my property ads more attractive and sell faster? Even if you have already sold here, you know how I can better exploit the potential of the free OLX platform. But let's go to the point and bluntly. Imagine for a moment ... What if it were possible that by following some new tips, you could improve the quality of your ads and sell your property 3 times faster? Would you like it? Well let me tell you that it is possible. Keep reading and you'll see how to get it. SIX (6) TIPS TO MAKE YOUR REAL ESTATE ADVERTISEMENTS IN OLX MORE EFFECTIVE

TYPE # 01: CLEARLY DEFINE THE CATEGORY. Although you may not believe it, some real estate agents do not specify the category of their properties. Either by carelessness or by wanting to reach a greater range of people, there are those who are not exact in the subcategory. For example, if you have a house or apartment for sale, make sure that the subcategory you choose is sales and not leases. Yes, it's very basic, I know, but an important detail too. Take advantage of this selection because it helps you to have your ad visited by people really interested in what you offer.

TIP # 02: VARIETY AND QUALITY OF PHOTOS. Uploading photos of the property is essential. What's more, ads with photos on OLX receive up to 5 times more visits than those without photos. The best thing is that you can upload a large number of photos, up to 22 photos of your property. Now, when uploading the photos of the property you need to choose the best photos. And how to take those photos? You can take the photographs yourself, it doesn't have to be a headache for you, nor do you need to be an expert. Just follow some quick tips how to:

2.1. Take photos with good lighting: And if the light is natural, much better. You can do the exercise of opening doors, curtains, windows and see from what points the photo is better illuminated. Look at an example:

Two photos of the same space that generate a different sensation due to the lighting and the point at which they are taken. How I told you, get good lighting and look for the point of space that has more potential.

2.2. Check that the camera lens is clean: If the lens has a bit of grease or a speck, the photo could lose sharpness or dirty spots on the lens could be seen. We often miss this, especially with the cell phone lens.

We forget that when you load it in your purse, pocket or by simple constant manipulation, the lens tends to get dirty. Remember to check it, it will take you 15 seconds for a long time but you will have better photos.

2.3. That they are not blurred or run: Not only the lens blur the photos. The movement or the weather can also influence, so just try to be firm and also have your hands when taking the picture.

If the weather makes things difficult for you, try to wait a bit or clean the lens regularly with a cloth, those used to clean the glasses can help you.

2.4. Take care of the good presentation of the property: By this I don't just mean the decoration (if any) or the state of the infrastructure, which is already the property's own, and many times it doesn't depend on you. I emphasize the cleanliness of the place, check that at least the floor is swept and washed and the dust shaken. The image of a dirty and neglected place is a bit unpleasant and can create a discouragement in who visits your ad.

Even a simple trick: Lower the toilet lid, when you take pictures of the bathroom. Do not get caught by the customer with a submarine walking around. Just having that lid open gives a bad look. Watch out for this. 2.5 Take photos of each space of the property: You have 22 photos at your disposal, take advantage of them and Capital smart city take pictures of the entire property and even the social areas.

Remember to photograph the rooms and their closets, the kitchen and its details, the clothes room, the bathrooms, balconies, etc. These are, in summary, some photography tips that I give you and that I know you can easily follow.

TYPE # 01: CLEARLY DEFINE THE CATEGORY. The owner must express the essence of your offer. This is why it is important that you use keywords in the headline, that you are ultra specific and show the user that what you offer is useful for him / her. For example, it is not the same as you put: • Owner A: "I am selling an apartment" to ... • Title B: “I am selling a large residential house in San Francisco Corner” The first owner, the A, you are just saying that you are selling an apartment, and that's it. But in the second headline, the B, there are certain characteristics that make it more striking: • Property type • Use of that property • Location • A striking feature • Uppercase in the first letter of keywords. So: how could the first one improve? Surely something like: "I am selling a Brand New Apartment in the Residential Area of Floridablanca" ... It would be more attractive! This will help you get the attention of more serious prospects who are really interested in a type of property like yours and want to know more about it. And even, it helps you better to position on Google.

Think about this: How would you look for that type of property, if you went to Google to consult? Use those words. Sure they will help you position better.

TIP # 04: HIGHLIGHT THE STRONG POINTS OF YOUR PROPERTY. It's time for the truth. You must write the description of the property, and in some cases, the text box is limited. How to take advantage, then, of the description? It is natural that you begin by describing the technical data as ... • Number of rooms, • Bathrooms, • Square meter, • Antiquity, • Stratum and • The other spaces of the property are already written in the file that generates the OLX platform. But avoid placing that first. Leave it for below. What I advise you to do is highlight the strength of the property, or maximum three strengths, in terms of benefits.

That is, if you know that a strong point of this property is the area, because it has more security and is close to everything. So, don't just say the same thing: "Close to everything." What if you say something else, like: The pleasure of walking safely around your area and having everything you need at hand. Or if it is the generous of the spaces of the rooms, do not limit yourself with saying: "Large bedrooms." No. Everyone says that. It is drawer. What if you add something like: Large bedrooms of 3 x 4 meters, so that you never feel that you are locked, like in a matchbox.

The same applies to the living room, kitchen or social area. You can take those strengths and describe them in more detail, I assure you that it will be more interesting to read that description than one where you repeat all the data that we have already seen separately. And then, if you want, you can put a summary in list, the essential characteristics of the property. By the way, one more tip on this: At the end of the writing, review your description aloud, so you will verify that it is super clear and specific.

TIP # 05: KEEP YOUR PROFILE UPDATED. Please keep your contact information updated. Many times the mobile number is changed, and it is not updated in the ads. Error! If you don't do this, you could lose a lot of sales! Keeping your contact information up to date will allow you to be aware of your potential customers and serve them effectively. It is very important that people who see your notice have the assurance that there is a person behind that ad, someone who is there to advise them and who will answer your questions efficiently. Don't leave your profile either. Upload a photo, update your data constantly and validate your Facebook account.

Although it seems irrelevant, being aware of these three simple recommendations will help you increase your reliability. The confidence you convey when you show that your property has a real face and that there is someone who can help make a decision is a factor that you should not overlook. If you manage to build credibility and trust you will have a large part of the advanced ground. And you will get more visits, better results, and a better sales rate.

TYPE # 06: FAST OR FURIOUS. The following information applies, mainly for OLX, but surely the other classified pages will have similar characteristics to this. What have you not seen the featured packages offered by OLX? Surely yes. You know, I'm like you, I like the free or what is triple B: Well, nice and cheap. But, let's face it, it's not always like that. Quality has its price, right? Therefore, do not overlook ichs town them, it is an investment that is really worth it, because they keep your ads alive and also allow you to publish more and place yourself better in certain spaces of the OLX page. Choose the one that best suits your interests and you will notice that your ads will be updated every certain period of time, giving you more visibility and sales opportunities.

Ready the chicken! Now that you have read these tips, what remains is to go to practice. You will see that adding a little technique to the OLX publishing process will be productive and valuable for your business. In the end I assure you that you will see better results. Believe me, these 6 quick but powerful tips will help you improve your results on this platform, and even others, and sell your properties much faster.

By the way, do you have any TIP that works for you and want to share it with me? Write me your opinions below in the comments.

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