#it closed down EXACTLY because a dollar store chain moved in !!

[nightmarist]

what i thought i signed up for getting stardew valley: farming and resource game, dating sim, horror undertones (caves, fish, etc)

what i got: getting emotionally attached to a small town life being encroached upon Big Corporation(tm) and its idiosyncratic residents with their backstories

[sunken-standard]

So I'm in NE/ Central Eastern PA and we have got a ton of grocery stores. Most common is Giant, which varies in quality by neighborhood but is generally what I consider baseline, middle of the road. In this tier are also Weis and Shoprite (though Shoprite has really great loss-leaders, which no one else around does anymore). Redner's varies a lot by location but they're generally a for-everyone store, though I think they're mostly in lower-income neighborhoods now.

Wegman's is for affluent whites (but not really because their store brand is still cheaper than name brands and very good quality). There's one Whole Foods but that's an hour away and in the rich end of Allentown. Our only regional Costco is there too, and it's definitely more upscale than Sam's Club or BJ's (middle and cheapo respectively). There's one Price Chopper way up in the NY exurb part of the Poconos; I think they're expensive but not ritzy.

Aldi used to be dingy and only for the poors, but they've rehabbed the image a little and now it's bargain-fancy. Lidl is kind of the same in reality, but viewed as kind of chic because it's new and foreign. Walmart is about the cheapest you can get, and every single one in the area is now a Super Center (the kind with a full grocery store inside, for non-Americans). Target has food too, but not as much and it's more expensive (Target has a more refined image around here). Dollar General, Family Dollar, Big Lots, Ocean State Job Lot, and even Dollar Tree have grocery sections, but aren't grocery stores as such, but I mention them because I know a lot of people who get a lot of food there.

Gerrity's used to be Scranton-Wilkes Barre only but they've moved into the Lehigh Valley now; I don't know enough about them to say much, except that I liked Valley Farm Market a lot better before they bought it. Ahart's was another hyper-local chain that had like six or eight stores, but they're down to one now.

There's also a Food Lion about an hour away in Berks county and that's the farthest north I've ever seen one. I was in it exactly once and it didn't make any kind of impression on me.

There are still some great mom-and-pops/ ethnic groceries, one food co-op that's going to open eventually (or maybe already is, who knows, it's in the gentrified part of South Bethlehem and I'm under no illusion that it's going to be a shopping experience for everyone), at least three grocery outlets that sell overstocks/ damaged/ outdated stuff (one is a Grocery Outlet Bargain Market, which is national, but the other two aren't chains), and a shit ton of actual farmer's markets that sell local produce.

(Also when I was younger we had either a Superfresh or a PathMark [I don't remember which, it was bought by Giant at least 15 years ago] and Acme and Laneco/ Food Lane were the big stores before Giant bought them or they just closed down in the 90s)

It’s easy to write like an American. “Katelyn stopped at Barnes and Noble on the way back from Krogers. It was 100 degrees out that day.” There you go, job done.

–

Not in my state.

[echo-of-sounds]

your birthday

Drabbles of Aizawa, Toshi, and Hound Dog celebrating your birthday. 

These came out a little longer than initially planned. But that’s okay since these are birthday drabbles for @smutav​ @mrsvash​ and @rurounivash​! I hope you guys have/had/will have a great, relaxing day, and thank you for all your support! (I also tried to tailor them a bit towards what you like and how you’d want to spend your day. I hope I did okay!)💙💙

Warnings: there is some smut in these

Aizawa Shouta

Wind and water washed; one brought a fine layer of salt across your skin; the other, a cold tidal flow over your feet. You walked into Shouta’s shoulder. He didn’t react until you did it again, trying to get away from the freezing water.

“Too cold?”

You hummed and nudged closer to his eternally high body heat. That same heat enveloped your hand, guiding you away from the tide. Gratefully, he didn’t chide your request for an evening stroll on the beach. Well, he sighed but hid any reluctance.

It wasn’t till most people cleared the area and you were nearing the exit that he halted, keeping you in the open, onshore winds. The tiny tilt of his eyebrows stopped you from questioning him. The simple, long bracelet box he pulled from his pocket turned your chills into a fluttering. Wrapping paper nor bows covered it. The only design was the imprint of the designer’s name.

Shouta mumbled over the mounting breeze, the smallest blush noticeable in the lowering light, “It’s not much. You didn’t give me any helpful ideas.”

“Because you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Yes, I did. Here.”

Careful to not drop or let the wind take it, you accepted and opened the box. Inside, waiting on a velvet cushion, laid a rose gold bracelet. White gemstones, glittering from the waves and sun, decorated the braiding chains. It felt frosty yet loving under your fingertips. You exhaled, “Shouta… how much was this?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he scolded and returned the box to its pocket. Deft fingers aligned it around your wrist, easily linking the tiny clasps together. His hands stayed around yours, holding firm, displaying the bracelet between you. “Do you like it?”

Dark eyes waited, calm, almost concerned as you stared. It didn’t matter how tired they were, they always gave you so much love. And it didn’t matter how much he typically sucked at buying presents. This one was good, excellent, raising a laugh from your throat. You threw your arms around his neck. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“I love you,” heated breath puffed along your jacket’s collar. Lips replaced it, gracefully skimming the hidden skin. His warmth perfectly offset the cold.

“I love you, too.” You withdrew to meet his eyes and whisper, “Let’s go home.”

He agreed with a kiss.

Once home, you sat with Sho on the couch, hunkering down for the rest of the evening for some wine, cuddling, and kissing. His question paused that: “Glasses?”

“Fuck.”

Before you could get up, he plucked the bottle of wine from your hands, popped the cork, and took a swig. He handed it back to you and watched as you mirrored his actions. Fewer dishes, you guessed.

He lounged back, leaving his chest wide open for you to rest against. The cracked window provided an excellent chilly breeze for snuggling up under a blanket. You curled up, legs on his lap, ready for relaxation.

The beginning of the movie was the only part you paid attention to. The hand drifting from your shoulder to your waist, slowly touching every part of you as it moved towards your thigh, pinching the bottom of your shorts, kept tugging at your thoughts. It would fondle its way back up, carelessly pulling up your shirt until it snapped back in place.

Forty minutes into the movie, he presented you with another box: same color, same style as before, just smaller. With lips flushed to your temple, in a deep, doting tone, he whispered, “Open it.”

As you did, his kisses traveled to your cheek then neck. Propped inside were earrings, mimicking the angelic rose gold and white of the necklace. You sighed at his lips and gift, “Shouta, they’re beautiful… thank you.”

“Put them on,” he hummed just before biting your collar bone.

Stuck between laughing and moaning, you did. And he immediately removed your shirt after, kissing behind your ears, kneading your sides. You gripped the back of his shirt, wanting it gone, but as per usual, he didn’t listen, choosing to unclasp your bra next. Teeth returned to your neck. Something thin and cold accompanied them.

Sho sat back exposing your front to the nippy air. He stared at your chest. You looked down. A necklace hung, gleaming and gorgeous, pink and white. You smiled at his lunky gift giving. “You could've just given them to me all at once, you know?”

He shrugged and slid off his shirt. You leaned back as he came forward. Lips landed on yours hard, firm, just like his body did, weighing you into the cushions. He propped up on his elbows, staring at the necklace.

“I can take it o-”

“No. It stays on,” he droned, coming back down for a kiss. Your palms flattened along his sides. Your legs spread for him to settle much closer, properly close, wonderful for grinding, and exactly where you wanted him the rest of the evening.

Yagi Toshinori

It was already noon. You didn’t expect a call at six a.m. sharp, but you imagined he’d call before noon, at least, or send a text, a picture, an emoji, something to show you he remembered. No, you knew he remembered. He always did. He was probably just busy teaching the next generation of Heroes and all.

Something closed. You froze, listening, wondering if you imagined it. The faint shuffling told you, you didn’t. You hurried out of the bedroom to see Toshinori waiting, holding a bouquet of flowers. He sang, “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing home? I thought you had to stay on campus till tomorrow.”

“I finished early.” He set the stuff down and collected his welcome-home hug. “Well, I convinced Nezu I could finish my work from home, and since tomorrow is a training day, I have an extra day to finish.”

“Thank you.” You latched tight, nuzzling against his jacket. The thought of spending your birthday alone wasn’t the worst thing, but it wasn’t the best. You mumbled, “I thought you forgot.”

“I would never.” He pulled away and rubbed the back of his neck. “However, I, uh, I wasn’t prepared to celebrate today. I couldn’t find a reservation for tonight. I tried a bunch of different places, but they were all booked. I’m sorry, I tried.”

“That’s alright, Toshi. I’m fine staying in.” You hugged him again, adding, “I hate when they sing to me. Home is perfectly fine.”

He kissed the top of your head with a laugh. He stroked your back, slow and firm, keeping his lips pressed to you, occasionally whispering sweet sappiness. Yeah, this was much more preferable than spring the day alone.

“I’ll cook you something, anything. What do you feel like?”

“Dunno. Doesn’t really matter.”

“You have no ideas?”

“No. Let’s just order something.” You really didn’t want to let him go. Feeling him in your arms was much more pleasurable than anything else.

“Alright. What do you want?”

“Dunno.”

“You’re not helping me.”

“Surprise me.”

In thirty minutes’ time, someone knocked on the door. Toshi paid, thanked them, and returned to the couch, bearing a brown paper bag. Inside was your very early dinner of chocolate chip pancakes and fresh fruit. The last thing he withdrew was a milkshake. “It’s cake batter. I figured if you lacked a cake, this was the next best thing.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled.

The meal was enjoyed in a simple, snuggling silence, watching Tv with a kiss here or there. The syrup added a tasty sweetness to his lips, something you kept going back for during commercial breaks.

You didn’t want to break the cuddle. It was Toshi who eventually did. He retrieved your jacket and held it out for you.

“What’s this for?”

“This day may not have been the most exciting, and I feel like I was underprepared, but I do have an idea for your present.”

“Toshi, you don’t need to get me anything. You’ve done more than enough for me.”

“I know, but I want to treat you to something. Come on.” Toshi led you outside and down the street.

The late afternoon air provided a blissful breeze and contentment. People were sparse, allowing you the comfort to hold his hand. Though the occasional glance made you tuck into his side until they passed. He never mentioned it; he simply squeezed your hand and continued the walk.

Just when you began to question if there was an actual destination, he steered you towards the computer store you frequented. Inside was just as barren as out. You guessed he picked a good time for shopping, if that was what this was about. And since you were still left in the dark, you questioned him, “What’s this about, Toshi? I don’t need anything from here.”

He scratched his jaw. “When you were talking about the parts you wanted for your, uh… hard drive… motherboard, processor… thing, I was more than a little confused. Instead of buying the wrong thing, I’ll let you pick it out. I know it isn’t much of a surprise this way, but I wanted it to be useful to you. So, go pick!” he chimed, throwing his hands out in front of him.

“Toshi, this stuff is expensive. You don’t-”

“I want to. Go pick some things, and don’t you dare look at the price.”

Encouraged by his smile, your hesitations vanished, and you all but skipped to your desired isle. A hard drive adapter and mounting bracket caught your eye. Plus, they were cheap: thirty dollars at most.

You tried to move on from the next thing that piqued your interest. Yet, the box kept calling your name. You picked it up to read the back.

Toshi came up beside you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a motherboard.” You showed him the label, Gigabyte Z590 AORUS Elite Intel LGA 1200 ATX Motherboard, and explained, “It could run with my Corsair ram with the Intel 10700k. It’s supposed to be easy to overclock and stable on air.”

“Oh, that sounds very nice, sweetie,” confusion faltered his voice. Bewildered or not, he still kissed your temple, murmured his love, and took the items.

“Toshi, I wasn’t planning on getting it.”

“Well, I am.” He smiled and, despite your very vocal doubts, bought them.

You hugged his arm the entire way home, eager for your presents and craving some more cuddles.

Hound Dog

Through the tiniest crack in the shades, light beamed directly into your eyes. You rolled over and snuggled into the blankets. The day could wait…

Apparently, Ryo didn’t think so. The door squeaked open. The bed creaked as he crawled behind you, funneling heat across your body and fur nuzzling your neck. His ridiculously gigantic hands thwarted your attempt to wiggle away. You fussed his name, just wanting to sleep more.

“It’s almost noon.”

“Hng.”

“Time to get up.”

“Why?”

“I made breakfast. Come on.”

“No,” you whined into the pillow. You should be allowed to sleep in on your-

“Fine.” With a chest-filled growl, arms circled and heaved you out of bed, comforter included. You gripped his bicep amid the whiplash. The swirling ceased once he plopped you on the couch, bundled in your blanket, surrounded by pillows. None of which you could lie on since all were fur-coated and staticky.

“Breakfast,” he introduced, placing two plates down with a mix of breakfast quesadillas, muffins, patatas bravas, yogurt, and avocado and eggs. It appeared like he just made whatever he could think of. Not that you were complaining. It all smelled and looked amazing.

“Eat quickly.”

“Why? Do we have plans?”

“No,” he grumbled and sat beside you, his right leg bouncing. He gave you no more information and dug in. You did as well, thanking him for and appreciating the big birthday breakfast.

And all the way through the meal, his leg never stopped. Sometimes, he’d shift in place, or twitch, but his leg just kept going.

“Are you-”

“Time for your gifts.” He jumped up and disappeared into the hall. You wiped your hands and mouth clean in time for a giant gift bag and a present to fall into your lap. He was certainly rushing his way through this.

You blinked at the present. There was no way in hell he wrapped it. The huge, purple bow was tied neat and even, enclosing pink and blue wrapping paper, perfectly folded and taped down. It looked like a picture, not his actual doing.

And your face must have said it all because he gruffed, “I kept ripping the damn paper. Vlad wrapped it for me. Now open it.”

You’d have to thank Vlad next time you saw him. The ribbon released easily and the paper slid off quickly. You stared, smiling at the box of fine-tipped inking pens. It included nine of different sizes and one brush pen. Every time you thought about buying them, you talked yourself out of it. He must have remembered you mulling it over one of the few dozen times.

Wet heat licked your cheek. His nose pressed to you after, cooling the spot down. “Is it the right one?”

“The exact one. Thank you.” You kissed his muzzle, running your nails along the length of it and between his eyes. An odd grumble came from his throat. Judging from his calm, closed eyes, it was a happy grumble. You pressed a few kisses to his cheek, wanting to listen to the husky rumbles.

Ryo’s eyes opened, surprisingly remaining content, and he tapped the gift bag. “This next.”

This one was most definitely done by him; ripped tissue paper was shoved into the top, littered with holes from pointy claws. You laughed as you pulled it out. Strays pieces of tape somehow made their way inside, sticking paper to your skin.

Eventually, you found the presents: two t-shirts, a wearable blanket, and a deshedding brush. You held the last item up in a silent question.

“You always complain about my hair everywhere. This will fix that.”

You rolled your eyes and thanked him. He lapped at your cheek again, choosing to frisk down to your neck. His heavy hands tugged you onto his lap, sending tissue and wrapping paper falling to the floor. Fingers felt around your shirt. You gasped when they clamped on your side’s sensitive skin.

“Ryo-” You shuddered at their increasing strength. He didn’t really know how to fondle passionately. It was more like prodding and pricking to him. You panted, “I haven’t showered today or anything.”

“You do that once I’m done with you.” Teeth clamped on your shoulder, not enough to draw blood or pain, yet solid enough to lock you in place. His tongue, solid and way too hot, aimlessly dragged along thin skin.

His embrace kept you from wiggling away. Not that you really intended to. A day home with Ryo was such a scarce thing you valued so highly. You’d take anything at this point…

Especially since that anything was his fingers shoving into your shorts. Like the rest of him, they wasted no time and slipped inside you, steadily and sturdily caressing your front wall. Your body was hardly awake, making it considerably more responsive to his intense touch.

“Ryo, fuck-” Your breath caught at digging teeth. His palm pressured your clit, grinding, near jerking, giving you no preparation for your speedy orgasm. You gripped his wrist, closing your thighs on his hand, holding him in place.

His arm muscled its way out so he could lick his fingers, smirking and rumbling, clearly delighted.

Once again, he heaved you up, comforter included, and carried you back to bed. But this time, he threw you down and crawled atop, not letting you catch your breath because his tongue replaced where his fingers were.

Your shower was a long ways away.

[mymoonagedaydream]

Not sure what kind of AUs you write, but could you possibly do a Mob!Bucky x Soft!reader? And by soft!reader I mean she’s generally very kind, gentle, and cutesy, the “wouldn’t hurt a fly” type, except when defending those she cares for, then it’s like someone flipped a switch and she’s hell on wheels lol

All Bark and No Bite

Summary: When you fell on hard times, comfort came from the very last place you expected

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Soft!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, intimidating behaviour

Author’s Note: I really loved this request :) thanks so much anon

---

Approaching the front door of your apartment, you heard low talking coming from inside. Your dad hadn’t mentioned anything about having guests over, but you were making his favourite spaghetti for dinner, so maybe he’d just invited a friend over to try it.

He loved showing you off to people, and you loved the proud smile he wore whenever he did.

You turned the key and pushed open the door, seeing your father in the front room, sitting beside a youngish man you didn’t recognise. Clean shaven with neatly slicked back hair and a pretty expensive-looking suit, he was absolutely nothing like the friends who were usually brought home for dinner.

As soon as your father saw you he jumped up from the couch, looking a little antsy. ‘Hi sweetie. This is Bucky, a friend from work.’ He walked over to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek, before turning round to look back at his friend. ‘This is my daughter, y/n.’

You gave Bucky a warm smile. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too darlin.’ He had a thick, deep Brooklyn accent that made your stomach tingle.

‘Are you staying for dinner? I’m making spaghetti.’

Bucky sent a nervous look towards your father, who seemed to be attempting a very subtle head shake, hoping you wouldn’t notice. There was definitely something weird going on, you could’ve cut the tension in the room with a knife.

‘That’s alright.’ Bucky eventually replied. ‘I should get going soon.’

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence as you took your coat off and hung it by the front door. Only when you walked through to the kitchen did you hear the deep mumbling start again, far too quietly for you to make out any of the words.

You heard the front door open and close, then you heard your dad quickly shuffle into his bedroom.

---

An hour after the guest had left, dinner was ready, but your father was still locked away. You walked to his bedroom and timidly knocked on the door, inching it open to see him sitting on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.

‘Dad? Is everything alright?’

He looked up, you could immediately tell he’d been crying. He sighed and patted the bed, inviting you to sit by him.

‘I sorry, sweetheart.’ He reached out for your hand and squeezed it. ‘You know we’ve been struggling a bit lately and, well, I owe some money to some bad people.’

‘That man, who was here earlier?’

‘He’s one of them, but he was here to try and help me out. If they found out he could get into a lot of trouble.’

His grip on your hand was tightening, almost to the point of being painful, but if that’s what he needed to do to keep him grounded then you were happy to let him.

‘How bad is it?’

He turned to look at you, tears welling in his eyes. ‘We could lose everything.’

That hit you like a punch in the gut. He looked absolutely devastated. You hadn’t seen him like this for years, not since you lost your mother.

You moved your arms to circle his shoulders, giving him a tight hug.

‘It’s okay dad. We’ll figure it out.’

---

The next day, while your father was out at work, you were woken by aggressive banging on your apartment door. You considered ignoring it, but they didn’t let up, almost thudding the door off of its hinges.

Opening it cautiously, you saw two burly, intimidating guys staring down at you, and Bucky stood slightly behind them looking a little sheepish.

‘Hey there sweet thing.’ The one at the front said, his alcoholic breath washing over your face. ‘Is your daddy home?’

‘No, he’s not.’ Bucky’s face dropped slightly, obviously shocked by your firm tone.

‘Can you tell me where he is sugar?’

‘No.’

Bad breath gave a low, sinister chuckle before stepping forward and lowering his face to level with yours. ‘I really think you should. We don’t want to have to do this the hard way.’

You were probably being stupid and reckless, but no way were you going to be intimidated into compromising your dad’s safety. You leaned in even closer to your unwelcome guest, leaving barely an inch between your forehead and his.

‘If you so much as touch me, I’ll scream this fucking building to the ground.’

It took a second, but he eventually backed up. ‘I like you, kid. I’ll be seeing you. Soon.’

He turned and walked away, the other man you didn’t recognise following him closely. Bucky hesitated for a second, staring at you while his mouth curled into an impressed smile. He grabbed a cigarette from behind his ear and put it between his lips, winking at you before finally following his colleagues down the hallway.

After firmly pushing the door closed and sliding the chain across, you squeezed your eyes shut and let out a few shaky breaths, thankful that you’d come out of that interaction unscathed.

You never told your father what had happened. He had enough to worry about.

---

A few days later, you were working a double shift at the diner, trying to earn as much money as you could to help your dad out. You’d been on your feet for thirteen hours straight but, thankfully, it was pretty late, so the place was almost completely dead.

You were filling up the coffee machine with beans when you heard the bell above the door go. Turning your head, you saw Bucky saunter in, eyes glued to the newspaper in his hands.

He took a seat at the counter. You wiped your hands on your apron and went to stand opposite him.

‘Hi there.’ He seemed to recognise your voice, his head snapped up as soon as you spoke.

‘Hey.’ A wide smile spread across his face. ‘I’ve never seen you in here before.’

‘I don’t usually do the graveyard shift. Just, y’know, trying to earn some extra money.’

His smile dropped slightly after hearing the exhaustion in your voice.

You hadn’t intended to make him feel guilty. If anything, you owed him your gratitude, cause knowing that there was someone else helping your father out made you feel so much better about this shitty situation.

‘Coffee?’ You chirped, trying to lighten the mood a little.

‘Great, thanks.’ You grabbed him a mug and started pouring. ‘I, uh- I’m really sorry about the other day. Doorstep intimidation was really unwarranted, I tried to convince them out of it.’

‘It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.’

He smirked slightly. ‘You handled it well enough. I was impressed.’

‘Oh I’m definitely all bark and no bite.’ You passed him his coffee and gave him a warm smile. ‘But keep that to yourself.’

Pottering around behind the counter for a while, you felt his gaze on you whenever you passed by him. It was actually quite nice, having this devilishly handsome man show some interest, so you found yourself coming up with as many excuses as possible to walk in front of him.

Ten-or-so minutes after he’d arrived, you had to duck into the kitchen briefly, and when you came out you found yourself pretty disappointed to see that he’d left.

You trudged over to his empty coffee mug, picking it up and double-taking when you saw that it’d been sitting on top of a fifty dollar note.

He must’ve left it by accident, surely? Fifty dollars is a ridiculous tip for a cup of coffee.

You slid it into your apron, figuring you’d give it back next time you saw him. You could even use it as an excuse to get your dad to invite him back to the house, but you hoped you wouldn’t have to resort to that- you hoped that maybe he’d come around by choice.

---

It’d been a week since you’d seen Bucky at the diner, the fifty dollar note was still sitting in your bedside dresser. Your father had been going downhill, getting worse everyday, and the temptation to give the money to him was getting more and more difficult to resist.

Coming back from the grocery store, you climbed the stairs of your apartment building and turned into your hallway, the sight that greeted you making you stop dead.

Bucky was sitting outside your apartment, leaning against the door, looking like he’d just been in a horrific car crash. As soon as he saw you he struggled up onto his feet, the full extent of his injuries becoming apparent as you got closer.

‘I’m really sorry y/n, I didn’t know where else to go.’

‘God Bucky, what happened to you?’

‘They found out what I’ve been doing.’

Your eyes widened in shock. ‘They did all this just because you helped my dad out?’

‘Not exactly.’ He winced as he limped out of the way of your door. ‘I haven’t been playing ball with them for years, I’m tangled up in more shit than I can keep track of.’

It was definitely a stupid idea to let a guy being chased by the mob into your home, you knew that, but you were really struggling not to feel sorry for him. He looked completely broken.

‘My dad’s gonna be out all day.’ His dejected nod at that was the final straw, you knew you had to help him. ‘But I’ll clean you up.’

You gave him a reassuring smile as you let him through the door. He steadily lowered himself onto the couch while you fetched a bowl of warm water and a clean cloth. You didn’t really know what you were doing, but you figured at the very least you could give him a bit of comfort and wipe all the dried blood off his face.

You took your makeshift first aid kit into the front room and sat next to him.

‘Look at me.’ He shifted his face towards you. You wrung out the cloth and gently pressed it to a deep gash above his eyebrow, making him wince. ‘I’m really sorry this happened, you didn’t deserve it.’

He chuckled lightly. ‘You gotta teach me how to do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘Flick between the nicest and the scariest person I’ve ever met.’

You gave him a faintly amused smile. ‘We lost my mom when I was a kid, my dad needed all the kindness he could get.’ Bucky looked a little shocked at your honesty. ‘But he’s also stupid as hell, so he needs defending pretty often.’

‘He’s lucky to have you.’

Your eyes flicked to meet his, sensing a hint of sadness behind his words. ‘Do you have anyone?’

‘If I did, I probably wouldn’t have ended up beat to shit and on the run.’

You sighed and nodded, dropping the cloth back into the bowl and scanning your eyes over his face again. ‘That’s about the best I can do. You’ve stopped bleeding, but you won’t be winning any beauty contests for a while.’

He chuckled and ran his hand over his hair, taking a deep breath.

You were really conflicted about what to do next. Having him here could put both you and your father at risk, but were you really just going to throw him back out on the street? Anything could happen to him out there, you’d never forgive yourself if he would up in an even worse state.

‘Bucky, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.’

‘Thanks.’ You could almost see a wave of relief passing over him. ‘I don’t think my place is safe at the moment.’

You reached out for his hand and squeezed it tight, a calm silence falling as your eyes locked together. He slowly moved his free hand up to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes, then letting it come to rest at your jawline, gently cupping the side of your face.

You closed your eyes and settled further into his hand, almost feeling yourself melting under his soft touch. Between working and looking after your father, you’d never really had the chance to get close to anyone like this, so these sensations were pretty new to you.

You felt his body shift slightly, and a second later felt his lips press against yours. It was unexpected, shocking you a little at first, but it didn’t take long before you relaxed completely and returned the kiss. It felt like there was electricity flowing through your body, making all your hairs stand up and your stomach do flips.

Getting a little carried away, you lifted your hands up to hold his face to, completely forgetting his extensive bruising. He winced slightly and pulled away.

‘Oh god, sorry I forgot.’

‘S’alright.’ He flashed you a wide smile. ‘I knew you had some bite in you.’

---

[imgoingtohellsofuckit]

Not The One For You

Rodrick x Reader

Warning - Smut (don’t be too hard on it )

Summary - Rodrick’s parents don’t like you so you are having dinner with them to change their mind

Rodrick Heffley wasn't the brightest kid. It was pretty much universally known. So when you told your friends that you were dating the wannabe rock star. It's not like you two were that different. You liked the same music, both had an alternative style, both of you were older siblings, had families who only saw reasons to be disappointed in you. On the outside you two getting together seemed to make a lot a sense. However there were a lot of differences that your friends decided to focus on. Specifically that you were actually really smart and wanted a life that was normal. Well halfway normal. You were excited to keep the alt style but you wanted an actual job. Granted you were trying to be a mortician but still. You wanted the job, the house, the family and well Rodrick wanted the fame and the glory of being a musician.

"You guys are acting like me dating him now means I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him," You point out, "we are 17.... the only thing we know is that we like each other right now."

"Yeah but it's Rodrick," One of them points out, "he's incapable of taking care of himself. This is gonna be your life."

"Exactly! I mean what if you do end up getting like married?"

"Then I handle it then," You answer, "you are looking way too deep into this. We are just dating."

"Babe you ready?" Rodrick calls over.  You look back to see him a little bit down the hall from the circle of girls gathered around my locker.

"Of course Rod," You say as you shut the locker leaving your friends behind as you meet your boyfriend. He drapes his arm around you with a big smirk. Moving to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. My friends weren't the only ones who have problems with us. Rodrick's parents also found a lot to not like in our relationship. First of all Rodrick's mother is well- controlling to say the least. She saw another person in his life dressed in chains and all black, so she decided that I was just like the other people he hangs around with. Ignoring all the parts about me that aren't just my style. And whatever feelings about me his dad had all turned negative when Rodrick forgot to lock his bedroom door and his mom walked in.

"How was your day beautiful?" he asks as we head out to his van.

"It was slow- my calc teacher was riding my ass," You tell him, "deadass he wouldn't leave me alone. He sent me to the office for my outfit and they sent me back saying that it wasn't agaisnt dress code- because it isn't. And this mother fucker looks me dead in the eye and says- 'well if you didn't dress like a hooker I'd feel comfortable teaching you' which is like first off what the fuck."

"Thats gross- did you report him to the office?" Rodrick asks, "do I need to kick his ass?"

"I reported him and I called my mom- who by the way apparently is still on the phone with the principal," You say chuckling lightly, "and no you don't have to kick his ass- mostly because if you did.... you wouldn't win."

"Oh I totally could," He says, "I'm strong as hell."

"uH Rodrick babe I love you but he's the football coach and weighs 300 pounds," You say trying to explain it to him, "you'd get crushed. I still love you tho."

"I'm upset- I could kick his ass.... especially if he's being gross to you," Rodrick says. You nod unconvinced.

"How was your day?" You ask him.

"Boring - however I appreciated the pickup lines during history," He says, "it was cute..."

"I was gonna send my tittes but then I remembered your mom still reads your messages," You say smirking.

"Oh I missed out," He says, "think we can make a detour for a quicky in the car?"

"Your mom wants us there early," You remind him, "plus she's still on the fence about us being alone since she caught us in your room." He rolls his eyes lightly as we climb into his van.

"Yeah but let's say we make a detour to the store hookup in the back of the van and then grab some flowers or something for her to make it seem like we stopped for her," Rodrick suggests, "or maybe like a cake or something. To ya know show the peace..."

"Fine but you'd have to be quick," You tell him, "and you better tell me that your van is clean back there. Last time I got pizza in my hair."

"Clean... no it's not clean," He says, "but I brought a blanket and we can like spread it over the back... It'll be  fine..."

"Fine but the second I touch rotting food it's over," You say firmly. He smirks as he changes the course towards the store just up the street. He makes sure to get in the back line of the parking spots taking the furthest one from the store. He climbs in the back first shoving the trash around the back. The finally throws the blanket down across the back.

"Just like imagine rose petals and a bed and shit," He says. It's quite literally the opposite of the romance that I'd prefer but he's a giant punk dumbass so you have no idea why you would of thought this would be any different.  He sits down and looks at you with a goofy smile. "Malady would you like to join me?" You chuckle before climbing back to join him. The second you get back there he already starts yanking off his shirt. Way too excitedly for his own good. You smile as you move to pull off your layers. Finally as you both get to your underwear he looks at you excitedly. "You're so hot."

"Awe thanks cutie," You say as you climb on his lap moving to meet his lips. His hands fall to your waist. Holding on as you take full control of the situation. You can feel the excitement coursing through him. You chuckle lightly. You move to pull his member free from his boxers. The moving your own underwear to sink down onto his member. He lets out a loud moan as I set the slow pace.

"Mmm you're amazing," He says softly. You chuckle as you quicken the pace. Soft moans filling the car. You can tell you both are moving way more than you thought you would. Anyone on the outside would know automatically what was happening. All you can hope for is no one relaying the information back to Rodrick's mother. "Uhh baby," He moans loudly. You move pulling him into a deep kiss. Feeling the moans through the kiss. You can tell he's not gonna last much longer. You move laying back allowing him to take control. He smirks widely and starts at his assault. The moans filling the van. Echoing off the metal walls. Finally he pulls out. Spilling his load on your legs. "Did you?"

"No not yet," You say slightly annoyed at him finishing before you. He nods pulling your legs on his shoulders. Pulling you towards him. He latches his mouth on your clit trying his best to get you off. He's sloppy. But even the sloppiest technique when your this close could send you way over the edge. Your hand moves over your mouth as you come upon. Stifling the loud moans as you cum. He doesn't stop. He keeps going. Your body feels so good you could scream. He pulls away after a minute catching his breath.  "Come here," You demand. He complies clearly excited to see you like this. You move getting on your hands and knees. He looks like he's about to scream at the sight. He moves pushing himself in with out warning. Pounding into you as fast as he could.

"Mmmm I love you so much," He groans.

"I love you too Rod but please go faster," You moan. He complies. The van was filled with a pure moaning mess. "Oh Rod I'm gonna cum again." You can barely finish the words as you hit your second orgasm. He pulls out as you simply lay down on the blanket.

"Holy fuck," He says as he lays down beside you.

"Fuck Rodrick," You say softly, "we have to go see your parents after this."

"Yeah I guess we kinda went a little too hard," He says softly, "and we still have to actually get flowers or something."

"Ughh think you can manage that?" You ask, "I'm gonna go get cleaned up."

"Yeah what kind?" He asks.

"I don't care get something thats pretty but not a million dollars," You say as you sit up pulling your underwear back on. He nods as he follows suit in pulling on his own clothes. Once you both are fully dressed you climb out of the van. He takes your hand genteelly.

"You're beautiful you know that," He says smiling at you. You move pecking his cheek.

"Thanks Rod."

Once inside the store the two of you split up. You head to the bathroom to clean yourself up. Fixing you makeup and hair. Trying to make the whole thing less obvious. You meet him back at the entrance. He's holding two sets of flowers.

"Rodrick I know you're bad at math but I know you can at least count to thirty," You say chuckling.

"Actually I got these daisies for my mom," He says, "and these roses are for you." He hands the bouquet over to you. You take them with a big grateful smile. Moving in to pull him into a quick kiss. As you pull back he moves draping his arm around your shoulders. "Come on beautiful." As you both make your way to his van you can't help but smile. Sure he's not the most romantic boyfriend- he did just fuck you in the back of his disgusting van and instead of cleaning it to do so he threw a blanket over rotting food and old condoms. But the small gestures like the roses and the compliments. Really just prove that he's not as bad of a boyfriend as everyone thinks he is.

It doesn't take us long for you guys to reach his house. He holds your hand as he leads you both into the house.

"Rodrick is that you?" His mom calls.

"Yeah mom!" Rodrick yells back. His mom moves from the kitchen over to the doorway. She looks over us.

"Rodrick it is a 5 minute drive from the school to the house why did it take you almost an hour?" She asks him clearly not happy with you both. You smile nervously as you hand her the flowers. This dinner was my chance to fix the fact his parents didn't like me. And getting railed by their son right before this interaction was very much hurting my chances of this going well.

"We had to go to my mom's shop real quick then we picked up these flowers," You tell her, "sorry my fault. My mom wanted me to bring her a coffee." Her expression softens.

"Awe well thank you," She says, "how was your day Y/n?"

"Oh it was good," You tell her, "very productive."

"That's good! Here come with me I want you to taste this sauce for the pasta," She says brightly, "it's a new recipe." She starts moving off to the kitchen. Rodrick gives you a slightly impressed look before leading you both into the kitchen.

The rest of the dinner actually goes really well. Rodrick's mother despite her reserves after catching you and Rodrick seems to finally have forgiven you. Letting go of the stupid blame she had for you "corrupting her son" or whatever garbage she went on about.

"I hope Rodrick is being a gentleman," Mrs. Heffley says to you.

"Oh he is," You tell her, "he got me roses today. And he's always opening doors for me. Making sure to sent me good morning texts. He's actually a really good boyfriend." He smiles at you. You tighten your grip on his hand. She looks pleased with his answer. Greg starts to make a snarky comment but his brother kicks him from under the table.  

"That's good, I'm proud of you Rodrick," His mother says. His father looks between you and his son. Not completely convinced his son would act like anything other than the slob he knows.

"We are talking about this Rodrick right?" His father asks.

"Yeah actually," You say, "I know it might be hard to believe- I didn't believe it at first."

"What's so hard to believe about it?" Rodrick asks, "she's my girl and I want to make her happy-" The sweet words ending in a loud burp. Both of his parents sigh loudly. You simply chuckle. He looks over to you with a big smile. Then moves pecking your forehead.

"Yeah she's perfect for you Rodrick," Greg says, "anyone who can handle that- you better keep her around."

"Can it nerd," Rodrick says harshly.

"So what are you planning to do after school?" Mrs. Heffley asks you.

"I'm planning to go to school and studying mortuary science," You explain, "Mortician's are a job that's always gonna be there... And it helps that my grandmothers a mortician and is hiring me on her staff when I meet the requirements to join." She nods along to your words.

"Oh so you want a real job," His father says, "hmm Rodrick you could try that some time."

"No thanks old man," Rodrick says, "I'd rather stick something that actually matters. Like music... Not that I think your ambitions don't matter Y/n."

"No I understand," You tell him, "you have your dream and I have mine." You look to his parents. "Real jobs are relative... society is changing and becoming things like musicians and influencers is a lot easier than it was before." His mother chuckles nervously. You know that they have this thing against Rodrick's music. However you also know you want to support your boyfriend way more than you want his parents to like you. "I believe that Rodrick will do great in his music career...."

"Awe thanks babe-"

"If he works for it," You continue, "the music industry is hard and you have to stand out. I'm sure he'll get there but it'll take a lot of work."

"That's well put," His father says.

"She's very insightful," Rodrick says, "right babe?" You chuckle lightly. His mother looks back to you.

"So where is this school your looking at?" She asks you, "is it local? Or are you going away?"

"Oh it's local actually," You explain, "the next town over really but it's like a 20 minute drive." She nods. You give her a soft smile. "It's just a small college. I told Rodrick to check it out. They have a music production course which is apparently really nice."

"I've looked into it," Rodrick says, "and I don't know if school is for me... Considering I barely go when it's free I don't know if I want to pay to skip school all the time."

"You wouldn't be paying for all of it," His dad says, "if you actually go I might help... but you'd have to stay enrolled." Rodrick scoffs.

"School doesn't have to be for you Rod," You say to him, "but it's worth a look ya know. Maybe even a tour. You don't have to decide right now."

"Fine I'll tour it," He says, "we can tour together."

"Did she just get Rodrick to agree to tour a college?" His father asks in disbelief, "this isn't real?"

"Shhh don't say anything he might change his mind," His mother says quietly. Rodrick stabs at his pasta. He takes his last bite and then looks to his parents.

"I'm gonna drive her home," Rodrick says, "we'll probably stop to get something sweet on the way. That good?"

"Yeah of course," His mom says, "it was lovely seeing you Y/n."

"You as well Mrs. and Mr. Heffley, I hope I see you again soon," You say to them.

"Oh well how about you come to Grandpa Heffley's birthday party," Mrs. Heffley offers, "it'll be here and I'm sure the family would love to meet you... And you and Rodrick have been dating for a little bit now so I'm sure they'd love to see more than just the pictures you and Rodrick post online."

"Is that okay with you Rodrick?" You ask him.

"Sure it'll make it a lot less boring," Rodrick says, "can we head out now?"

"Yes Rodrick," His mother says clearly not loving his attitude. You wave to them as you stand. Rodrick leads you both out to his van.

"You sure that it's okay?" You ask, "If you don't want to then I don't have to go."

"It's literally fine," He says as you both get into his van, "honestly if you're there I'll actually have someone who likes me there." He gives you a smile. "I'd love it if you'd go."

"Then I'll go," You tell him, "it's nice that your parents seem to like me again."

"Yeah now I can have you over without my mom making us sit downstairs," Rodrick says, "and I don't have to hear the whole- 'are you sure about y/n?' speeches now." You chuckles.

"That's good," You say, "I love how your parents didn't like me but my mom adores you."

"Oh yeah I know," He says, "not the way I pictured that going honestly. I was afraid your mom would hate me."

"No she loves you!" You exclaim, "she thinks it's good that I'm with someone who likes to have fun... something about how I don't do that enough. And my grandma thinks you're funny."

"You're grandpa doesn't like me," Rodrick points out.

"Yeah well he doesn't really like me either," You add, "he's against anything that's different. I mean he's still harassing my mom about having two kids out of wedlock so there wasn't any hope for you babe."

"Didn't he want you to have like a chasty belt?"

"No he bought me a purity ring," You correct, "I gave it back to him saying that I don't believe in waiting til marriage and he called his priest on me... Ooo if I wear that would your mom like me more?"

"I think after she caught us having sex a thing about being a forever virgin won't really mean much," He says, "even if its a religious thing." You shrug in response.

"I tried," You say, "so whats this sweet thing you want to get on the way to mine?"

"You," He says with a smirk, "your mom home?"

"Not for another hour," You say brightly.

"Good because I think I've still got more in me."

"You're a dog Rodrick."

"And you love it," He says with a smirk.

“I really do.”

[thegoodgayshit]

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Thirty-One: The Underworld and It’s Airport Security

She woke up in the lobby of a doctor’s office.

At least, that’s what it looked like. It was eerily quiet, with those plastic chairs with the huge armrests and people milling about. Some were sitting in chairs, a few standing near the bulletin board on the back wall. She saw a woman in a red coat, a man in a tie checking his watch, and a little boy holding a five dollar bill tightly in his hand. They just looked like perfectly normal mortals. Nothing out of the usual, but something about them put Luz on edge. She couldn’t place why.

There was no line for the receptionist, which Luz found odd.

She took a deep breath, and inhaled stale air, trying to remember what had just happened.

The portal. Saving Amity. Dad…

She still had Aletheia, which was resting on her finger. Luz checked her pockets. In her right was Hestia’s flame/lighter, and she ran her thumb over protectively. It was hers to carry from now on. In her other pocket, the one Hermes had been fiddling with, was a huge gold coin, with a circumference almost the size of her thumb, embezzled with the symbol of the Caduceus. She had no idea what she was going to do with that. Maybe it was an advance on a birthday gift?

In her back pocket, she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, and when she opened it, her eyes widened. It was a circle with a line in the middle, and three flames above each section. Alador had given this to her. He’d said that Hestia was the balance between worlds.

Maybe if she ever saw him again, she’d have to tell him he’d been right. But based on her last interaction with Amity’s parents went, she doubted she’d be welcome back to the Blight manor.

“Next!”

Luz jumped. Somebody behind the receptionist counter was waving for her impatiently, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was stepping forward.

The man behind the counter was… even more off-putting than the people in the lobby. He was wearing a very expensive-looking Italian suit, and he had dark hair that was slicked back. When she walked up, he was tapping his foot, like Luz should have known to walk up quicker.

“Name?”

Luz paused. Should she reveal that? She had no idea where she was. But the tapping of his foot increased the longer she hesitated, so she just threw caution to the wind.

“Luz Noceda.”

He looked down at a paper in his hand, frowning. “I don’t see you on our list. What was your cause of death?”

“Cause of death?”

He looked up and his lips thinned. She got the feeling people asked that one a lot.

“Cause of death. I hate to break it to you, but if you’re here, it’s because you're dead. If you can’t remember how you died, and I know some mortals like to block that out, could you at least tell me where you were at your time of death?”

So that’s where she was. Some kind of in-between world between living and dying. Now that she looked back at the other patrons in the lobby, Luz was kicking herself for not picking up on it sooner. All the patients in the room were sickly pale and seemed to have a shimmer to them that she now recognized as the reason Luz had been so thrown off. They were all dead, and waiting for their turn to move on.

But was she dead too?

Luz had been fairly certain Hermes hadn’t killed her, but if she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t really remember how she’d gotten here.

She didn’t feel dead, but she took stock just to be safe. Her heart was still beating. She was still gross and exhausted from the battle on Mount Pelion. She was sweating. All good signs of being alive.

“I’m not dead. I mean, I don’t think I am.”

The man rolled his eyes, eyeing her up and down. “Look I deal with a lot of mortals like you-“ He suddenly stopped, his eyes widening the longer he looked at her. Luz figured he finally picked up on the fact that she wasn’t, in fact, dead. The surprise left his face, and it shifted back to one of disinterest.

“I can’t help you.”

“What do you mean, you can't help me?” Luz asked, peering over at the name tag on the counter. “Charon?”

His eyebrows lifted, and despite his blank face, Luz had a feeling he was pleased. “You got my name right. Most people think I have the same name as that gods forsaken horse… look, kid. You’re at the entrance to the Underworld. I don’t know exactly how or why you’re here, seeing as you’re dead, but I can’t let any of the living past this point. Policy rules and all.”

Luz frowned. What was she going to do now? Hermes hadn’t given her any kind of instruction on what to do when she got here, or where she’d even go. But she couldn’t just leave.

She wracked her brain, trying to think of everything she knew about the Greek Underworld. There was the king, the god Hades, and his wife Persephone… Charon was a familiar name, but she just couldn’t place where she’d heard it…

Then, she turned and saw that the little boy had gotten in line, the five dollar bill still clenched tightly in his hand. It clicked.

“You’re the ferryman to the Underworld.”

He nodded. “Yes indeed. And I’m on strict orders to only take the dead across the River Styx. So, I'm sorry, but you'll have to come back when you’re dead.”

“I can pay you.”

Charon hesitated, his eyes narrowing. “With what?”

“I’m not here for myself,” Luz said, finally understanding what Hermes had done. “I’m a daughter of Hermes, here on behalf of the Olympians on official business. I need to be on your next boat.”

She took out the coin, placing it confidently on the table. Charon’s eyes widened.

For a second, Luz thought he might refuse her, and she froze. She'd never even considered that Charon might not like her father or any of the other Olympians. But then, looking quickly around the room, he swiped the coin, standing up with a tight smile.

“Of course, daughter of Hermes. We’ll leave right away.”

Luz paused, turning to look at the little boy who was still waiting patiently for his turn. “Make sure you check him in too.”

Charon grimaced, but shrugged, waving him forward. The boy walked up and stood next to Luz, dropping the five in Charon’s hands. It was bright blue and plastic-looking. Canadian money.

“Name?”

“I'm Cooper!”

He huffed. “Well, we only have one of those on the list today. All right, come on then, follow closely behind this Hermes kid.” Then, under his breath, so low that Luz almost missed it, “Hades knows I don’t want that god on my bad side again.”

Charon led Luz and Cooper out of the lobby and into an elevator. Horrible 80’s music was playing when the doors finally opened, and Luz got smacked with an entirely new sight.

The Underworld.

Luz had seen it in her dreams a few times through the portal, and it was just as bleak and as terrifying as she remembered it being. The air was stale, and probably didn’t smell that great, but Luz had gotten used to Death Mist, so this was nothing. They were on a dock, coated in rotting wood and Charon led them onto a gondola with a few other souls, batting extras away as he started to push it off into a dark black river. The Styx.

When Amity had sworn she’d free Hestia, she swore on this river. Luz wondered if she’d still have fallen off the mountain if she’d been the one to cut the chains instead of her.

She looked back toward Charon and recoiled, almost falling into the water from her shock. Instead of a suit, he now wore a thick black robe. His face was sunken and skeletal like he'd been dead for several days.

Charon started to push the boat down the black river. The boat rocked, and Luz quickly sat down, her heart hammering in her chest. She was really here, and it was terrifying. She wished she wasn't alone. Willow might have put an arm around her shoulder reassuringly, and Gus would be spewing facts too fast for her to process any of this fear. Amity might have held her hand as the boat moved, and squeezed it to remind her that everything was going to be okay. Now that she'd gotten used to having her friends around, she really forgot how lonely it was to be alone.

Cooper took a seat next to her, seemingly oblivious to the terror around them, instead just watching the sights with awe.

“It's so amazing!” He whispered to her. Luz frowned. Maybe he’d hit his head before he died. Luz could think of a scroll of places better than this, including the dumpster shoot behind her Mami's apartment. But he couldn’t have been older than seven or eight, so Luz wasn’t going to be the one to break it to him.

“Yeah, it sure is,” she said, forcing a smile and hoping it wasn't a grimace.

“My mommy would love to live in a place like this,” he whispered to her, “it smells like Nana’s house by the beach. And the man pushing the boat looks just like my daddy. They have the same color hair and everything!”

Luz frowned, looking to Charon and back to Cooper. They looked nothing alike. While Charon looked like he haunted funeral homes, Cooper was blond and bright-eyed. And she hadn’t been to many beaches before, but she was certain they didn’t smell like this.

“Where’s your mommy, Cooper?”

“I dunno! She told me I was allowed to walk to the convince store and buy candy and pop.” Cooper said with a shrug, too busy leaning over the gondola towards the river to pay much attention to her.

He reached forward to stick his hand in the water, and Luz leaned forward to stop him, her gut screaming at her that it would not be good. Behind her, Charon shook his head.

“Don’t touch! You’ll burn your whole hand off.”

But as he said that, Luz touched his hand. Instead of feeling solid flesh, her hand passed right through the murky layer around him, and her whole world shifted. For just a moment, she saw things the same way he did.

Now, Charon was a tall, handsome, blond man in colorful bathing suit shorts and a white tank top. He was gently scolding Cooper, “Don’t touch! You might fall in!” Cooper pulled back, laughing in delight.

The Underworld was beautiful. Clear blue skies, the air clean and fresh. They were riding in a pontoon boat over a clear blue lake, and there were ducks chattering in the water near them. In the distance, she could see the shore. People waited, laughing and talking, standing near a freshly painted dock and a cozy-looking cottage.

She quickly pulled back her hand out of his mist, her shoulder blade hitting the side of the gondola. Then, she was back.

“Holy Hermes…” she muttered, blinking to stay focused. She was thrown off from not being able to grab his arm, but then she felt stupid. Of course she wouldn't be able to touch him. He was dead. Then she'd seen his vision... what in Zeus' name was that all about?

“Some mortals just can't handle seeing the world as it actually is,” Charon whispered to her and chills shot up her spine at the sound of his voice right near her ear. “For poor folks like this one… ones who’ve barely lived, they don’t deserve to be scarred like that. Not that it matters, anyway. He doesn’t need a judge to tell him where he’s going to end up.”

The gondola finally knocked against the shore, and Charon pointed to something in the distance. There, she got her first glance at the real entrance to the Underworld. Lines upon lines of spirits, separated into two lines to pass through what looked almost like airport security.

One line was moving so quickly, Luz could barely keep up. It was like there was no security at all for this line besides the metal detectors. It was marked as the “EZ” line. But the other was in a totally dead stop, marked as a line towards the Judgement Pavillion. Luz shivered when she heard barking, and saw a massive, three-headed Rottweiler eyeing each of the spirits walking through the metal detectors like he was just waiting to swallow one of them up.

Beyond that, Luz saw the Fields of Asphodel. It went on for what seemed like miles, and in the distance, she spotted a giant obsidian castle. The palace of Hades. To the left of the Fields, Luz flinched and looked away. It was the Fields of Punishment. She was fairly far away, but she could still hear the shouts of agony in the distance. Maybe it was best she didn’t dwell on it.

But just to the right of the Fields of Asphodel, Luz’s eyes widened. It was an actual gated community in the Underworld, with beautiful, thick, trees, and the sounds of people laughing and enjoying a barbeque. It was such a shock from what was on the other side of the pathway, that Luz almost didn’t want to tear her gaze away.

Elysium. Cooper would be in good hands.

Luz, however, would have to take the more daunting trek. First, she had to find Amity. And in a realm with billions of souls, she had no idea how she was going to do that.

Thanking Charon with a low whisper, Luz climbed out of the boat as it docked. She had no time to waste. Amity hadn’t been down here much longer than Luz had, and if she didn’t want to completely lose her trail, she needed to find her and quick.

As she waded through spirits, she was desperately looking anywhere for a splash of mint hair. She checked the entire EZ line, careful not to get too close to Cerberus before she finally accepted that Amity wasn’t anywhere in the wafts of moving souls. Then, it hit her.

Of course Amity wasn’t there.

She had always been an overachiever and prided herself on being the best of the best. It was stupid of Luz to ever think she’d willingly take the boring Fields of Asphodel for eternity when there was another option.

So, she started checking the line to the Judgement Pavilion. As she walked through, she heard some disgruntled murmurs from the souls and was quick to hold up her hands.

“I’m not cutting! I’m just looking for someone.”

That seemed to be pretty unusual because souls didn’t bother her much after that.

Luz was thanking every god she could think of that the souls in this section looked much more lively than the ones she’d seen in line for the Fields of Asphodel. These souls remembered who they were, and we're proud to get in line and be judged. She hoped that when she found Amity, she would be feeling the same way.

Gods, if only she could find Amity. She checked every soul, walking up and down the line for what felt like hours.

Then, she saw her. Her back was to Luz, a few souls ahead of her, and she looked exactly as she did right before she fell down the mountain. Her mint green hair was tied up in its usual style, her clothes were ragged and battle-worn, and her arms were crossed impatiently as she waited. Despite the familiarity, she, like the other souls Luz had seen, were coated in a thin mist and had that same off look about them, but it was still so obviously Amity and Luz’s heart just about shot out of her chest.

“Amity! Amity!!!"

She sprinted as fast as she could, and Amity turned her head, her eyes widening at the sound of her voice.

“Luz?”

Luz slammed into her, fully planning to wrap her arms around her, but instead only managed to lose her footing, and fall right through Amity. There was no vision this time as she slammed into the coarse sand of the Underworld, groaning. Right, Amity was dead. She wouldn't be able to touch her.

As she crawled to her feet, she felt disappointment wash through her. It wasn't fair. All she wanted to do was hug Amity. She was standing stiff behind Luz like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Luz, is that really you?"

The disappointment faded to something else entirely when she heard her voice. It was just as it had been before she'd come to the Underworld. Her knee was stinging, and there was probably another hole in her leggings, but she couldn’t recall another time she’d been so relieved in her life. She stepped towards her, reaching out only to slowly remove her hand before it touched her face. It wouldn't work anyway.

“It's me. It's really me." She said, though she could barely believe her own eyes. "I... I thought I’d never see you again," she whispered, her heart hammering tightly in her chest.

“Luz, what are you doing here?” Amity breathed out, clearly just as shocked.

“Oh you know, just some of the usual quest stuff,” Luz said with a chuckle, and Amity recoiled in surprise. She eyes Luz up and down like she was looking for any signs Luz had changed.

“Another quest? I… I didn’t think I’d been down here that long…”

“What?” Luz asked, blinking. “No! It's the same quest I’ve been on this whole time. Amity, I’m here to take you back.”

Amity’s mouth dropped open, before closing and reopening multiple times. “Luz… I… I’m dead. I can’t just… I can’t just go.”

“But you can!” Luz insisted, reaching forward to take her hand. Her fingers passed right through, and she looked down, frustrated. Amity flinched, pulling her hand to her chest. “You’re not at the judging pavilion yet. You haven’t been entered into the Underworld officially. Amity, I’m here to fix this.”

“You can’t fix a prophecy, Luz,” Amity said with a stern shake of her head, even though her eyes were dark with sadness. “Look, all this is over. I… I died, yeah, but that’s how it was meant to be. I knew that, and I know you do too.”

“We were wrong. Amity, we’ve been wrong this whole time! Look, I met my Dad just after you…” Luz swallowed hard, and Amity looked away, biting her lip. Luz took a quick breath and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He told me that this wasn’t over. What closes on one side has to close on the other too. I’m here to make sure the portal stays closed for good, and I need you to help me. Please, Amity. Just trust me.”

Amity looked back at Luz, and something in her face shifted. She sighed, giving Luz a tiny smile.

“I can’t even die in peace, can I? Are you always going to be like this?”

Luz's heartbeat once in her chest, hard.

“Am I always going to be like what? Charming and intriguing?” Luz asked with a grin.

“No," Amity scoffed with a shake of her head. "I meant annoying and persistent.”

“Well, that depends. Are you going to step out of this line?”

Amity paused for another moment, looking down towards the judging pavilion with a thoughtful look on her face. After another moment, she stepped forward, gesturing for the soul behind her to move up.

“Alright, you've convinced me. I'm in. What’s the plan?”          

[realcube]

the heart || kei tsukishima x reader

 summary: modern au! you and tsukishima are supposed to dissect a lamb heart in biology but it doesn’t go to plan

tw// cussing, the dissection of a lamb heart, blood, biology 🤢

my excuse: this is based on a true story and i wrote it at like 3am - read at your own expense. this is probably the worst piece i’ve every written.

“Geez, why are you complaining? You literally just play Cool Maths Games during every period of Biology and now that we actually have to do something you become a whiny bitch.” Tsukishima clicked his tongue, slipping his phone back into his pocket while adjusting his headphones so they hung around his neck, rather than having to take them off because they were apart of his look at this point.

You tossed your head back upon hearing the news that you’d actually have to do something in class for a change, “Exactly! Biology is supposed to be the one class where I am not bombarded with work. Just last period, I drew at least fifty stupid fucking graphs! For what? To find x? To hell with your x !” You cried, running a hand through your hair to make sure you didn’t mess it up because you spent way too long straightening it this morning for a swift movement of your neck to mess it all up. 

Tsukishima sighed, hesitantly rubbing your back as you genuinely seemed quite stressed, “It’ll be fine, and it’s not like we’re learning anything new. We have already studied the heart, I think it was last year; we’re only doing the experiment now because we couldn’t to do it last year for some reason.” Tsukishima mumbled, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed that he was doing a decent job of reassuring you as your hair was no long standing on its ends. 

“Plus,” He said, flicking his pencil with his fingers, “This’ll be cool! The heart is quite an interesting organ, it’ll be fun to actually get hands-on and see the chambers and valves up close, don’t you think?” He added, seeming a bit too enthusiastic about dissecting a lamb heart - it was kinda creepy.

After you finished loudly judging him, you pulled out your phone from your pocket and absently went to snapchat, to send your streaks. “Yeah, whatever. Get in ‘ere with me Tsukishima, will you?” It was hardly a request as before he even had time to process what you had just asked him, you had taken a selfie of you and him with the indie filter, wrote ‘streaks’ on it and sent it to your whole best friend’s list. 

It took him a moment to react to what you just did but when he noticed you typing away to your friend, he let out a breathy sigh. Usually, he’d be fuming by your action but he had to admit, he looked pretty good in that picture - especially because he barely had any nice candid photos of himself. “Send that to me - but without the stupid caption.” Was all he could be bothered to utter.

You hummed in agreement, “Will do.” You replied, immediately finding the photo in your saved pictures and scrolling down your friends list until you found Tsukishima; he wasn’t too low down since you recently asked him for the answers to the Maths homework - he said no, of course, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m feeling kinda bummed so y’know what I am gonna do?” You spoke and without giving Tsukishima a moment to respond, you answered your own question. “Check your Snapchat username, it always makes him laugh.”

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold and his eyes widened at the mention of his username on Snapchat, “(Y/N). Do not--”

“Dinoguykei!” You exclaimed rather loudly, tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes as you cackled upon repeating his username to yourself - absolute gold.

“I was, like, 11 when I made it! Give me a break.” He spat, sticking out his bottom lip momentarily before pulling his headphones back over his head to clasp his ears so he no longer had to listen to your ‘annoying-ass laugh’, as he called it. There was clearly no music playing from his headphones and he acted as if he couldn’t hear you when he had them on despite the fact that they were clearly not noise-cancelling - this was a move he pulled often which you liked to call ‘blocking out the a haters’ as he would do that exact thing whenever you said something to displease him..

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, flicking his fake-ass SOMY headphones but since they were made of wurtzite boron nitride or something like that, they hit you right back, resulting in your hissing and quickly pulling your hand away. “Do you think that your crusty, dollar store headphones can prevent my noise from reaching your ears? I think the fuck not.” 

“I-”

“If you want me to buy you new ones, just ask. How much were they? Or are they hend-me-downs?” You inquired without missing a beat, it wasn’t often that you managed to tease Tsukishima which such flow consecutively so you were obviously going to make to most of this opportunity while you had it.

“They are from the dollar store but I didn’t buy them.” Tsukishima mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, he lowered his head and desperately tried to resist the sly grin which tugged at the corners of his lips as all the memories came flooding back to him. “You were there, weren’t you?” 

“No.” You replied simply but immediately realising what Tsukishima was talking about and leaning in closer to him, “Is Tsukki a criminal?” You sung while wiggling your eyebrow playfully at him. 

Tsukishima scoffed, once again lowering his headphones from his ears back down to his neck. “As if you aren’t, with all the stuff you stole from the supermarket.” He hissed while trying not to laugh as he recalled the time you tried to sneak out passed security by shoving food under your shirt so you looked pregnant - and they fucking fell for it! Or  maybe they were just too lazy to bother calling you out, either way you got away with it though. “And this is what you said before bolting out of Forever21 with sunglasses in your bra - verbatim: ‘If it is a chain, it’s free rein.’.” 

You wiped an imaginary tear from your eye as you heard those words leave Tsukishima’s mouth, “Beautiful-” You mused, about to go on to tell him about the other economic benefits of stealing from large corporations until he cut you off to correct you as always.

“So, you were wrong. These headphones were not a dollar, they were free.” 

Of course, Tsukishima never talks to you without the intend of either insulting you or proving your wrong in some way/argue with you. So why would this be any exception?

“Anyway,” Tsukishima began, his gaze shifting around the room rapidly in search of the biology teacher, “Where is that bitch? I’m ready to dissect the fuck out of that lamb heart if he just gets his ass over here immediately. He always does this.” Tsukishima huffed as this was far from the first time he had been let down by the biology teacher, as well as all of his classmates.

In fact, the whole class had basically mutually agreed that the biology teacher was shit as almost everyone in the class was failing due to his horrible teaching - or lack there of. Tsukishima was the only one passing because he had a tutor but he was still averaging 60% - a C - which was way too low for his liking. 

Also, the biology teacher had a habit of making false promises - for instance, there was that one time he said the class could use whiteboards to create model cells so he rushed out the room to ‘go get the whiteboards’ and didn’t come back. Instead of getting the whiteboards, there was a rumour going around the school that - with the assistance a foreign language teacher - he conducted a different kind of biological experiment in the janitor’s cupboard. 

Be that as it may, all my homies hated the biology teacher..until today, when he actually pulled through with the goods.

He came marching into the class holding a pale bag filled with a dark, red substance and quickly placed it on his desk. “Right, troops. Get yourself a partner, come ‘ere and grab a lamb heart then remove the tricuspid valve for me, will ya?” He panted, rubbing his forehead and bringing attention to his bright red face. He was seemingly out of breath yet nobody has ever seen him run before; was he that tired from walking to the storage cupboard and back?

“Sir, do we dissect it with out hands or?”

The teacher shrugged, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder before rushing out of the room. “I don’t know, sure? Or maybe use a spatula or something. Right, BRB, guys.” Just like that, he was gone. Probably to go rail Tsukishima’ foreign language teacher in the privacy of his own home or something. ‘Ew.’ Tsukki shuddered at the thought. 

“I’ll go get us a heart.” He said, getting up from his chair and about to make his way over to the teacher’s desk until you giggled, asking, “Who said I wanted to partner up with you?” 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, checking the time on his phone and spoke without averting his gaze from the path in front of him, “You’ve not got much of a choice.” With that, he slinked off to the front of the class to grab a heart and hopefully a spatula too. 

Your mouth was left agape at his comment, mostly because you were unable to decipher what he meant by that; curse his naturally sarcastic-sounding tone! Perhaps that was his way of trying to hit on you by saying he wouldn’t allow you to partner up with anybody else - or it could be a jab at the fact everyone in this class hates you for one reason or another.

“Some knob took the last spatula so I guess you’re using your hands.” He grumbled, dumping the heart which was packed in a thin, clear plastic bag onto your desk. Crossing his arms over his chest before sitting back down at his own table, pulling out his phone and about to start playing some music until you realised what he was trying to do and instinctively flicked his arm.

“What?” He hissed, jerking his head around to shoot you a deadly glare. You stuck your bottom lip out to form a pout but then you remembered that he finds your pouty face funny and right now you were trying to be intimidating so you quickly switched to a scowl. “You’re the one who wanted to dissect the stupid thing, you do it!” You roared, slamming the lamb heart onto his desk then leaned back in your chair, folding you arms over your chest in a bad-tempered manor.

Tsukishima’s expression softened slightly as he looked over, doing his best to stifle a chuckle at how silly you looked with a scowl on your face - like grumpy cat, in a way. “Why are you so mad?” He asked monotonously, shifting his gaze onto the heart on his desk, hesitantly reaching out to unzip the plastic bag which it was packed inside. 

You shrugged your shoulders, biting your lip as you looked down at your hands, shocked at how white your knuckles had become from holding a fist for so long. “My bad, Tsukki.” You said in a low voice, embarrassed at how his simple actions had pissed you off so much. “I guess I am just kinda frustrated with this whole class - mostly the teacher. I mean, we’re literally all doing horribly and instead of helping he just gives us a fucking lamb heart to dissect like what good does that--”

Suddenly, you felt something cold and slimy splat against your elbow, leading to a small gasp escaping your mouth as you instinctively whipped your head over to see what it was - however, as soon as you laid your eyes on it, you wished that you hadn’t. 

A high-pitched shriek left your mouth, immediately gaining the attention of almost the whole class but once the turned heads realised how uneventful the situation actually was, they went back to what they were doing prior to your scream. 

Tsukishima winced slightly in reaction to the shrill sound that left your mouth - “Oh, shut up.” He snapped, rolling his eyes at your - in his opinion - melodramatic reaction. “It’s just a bit of lamb heart; here, I’ll get it off for you.”

As soon as you realised what you had just done and the reaction it had evoked, you slapped your spare hand over your mouth but without averting your gaze from the god-forsaken piece of meat which clung committedly to your forearm. “Tsukki.” You tried to sound angry but the fear was still clear in your voice, “Why would you do that?” Although you hadn’t seen him do the deed, you were almost 100% this was the work of him flicking the wretched lamb muscle onto your arm - this theory was reinforced by the fact the plastic bag was lying wide open on his desk.

Tsukishima laughed, leaning over to pick the bit of heart off of your arm then proceeded to flick it away to some other poor soul’s desk. “There we go. Happy now?” 

You growled - something your friend had taught you to do whenever you were mad - shooting daggers at the lanky megane sitting in front of you while he wore a sly grin which just made you want to punch him right on the nose. “What the fuck was that for?” You snarled, “You know how much I hate blood.”

Tsukishima wheezed, he genuinely couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not, “Then what are you doing in a biology class?” His question was barely audible through his gasps for as well as the sound of him slapping him knee.

You clicked your tongue, wiping the excess lamb juice off of your arm, “Joking.” You droned, turning to eye the heart on his desk. “Go on, dissect the thing.”

[asthmark]

❝ lucky ❞, z.c

pairing → chenle, reader

genre → fluff, angst? a lil??

word count → 3.1k (woah!!)

summary → "you just deserve… so much more than that. do you realize how true that must be for a boy you just met today to see it?"

a/n → this is 1000% inspired by this pic that dropped yesterday like.....chenle looked so good it reminded me why i bias him!!!! anyway i kind of like this it has rich chenle and daddy issues thats all xoxo (also i did not proofread like at all so if theres any typos it was taeil's fault lol)

everyone in the room is utterly unbearable.

you understand it's rude to think so but you're sure that if you were to tell any of them this they would instantly agree with you. of course, you would never do that. because you're a ceo's daughter; you're not allowed to have an opinion that would make you look imprudent, rude or anything less of perfect.

so what do you do? you smile. you make small talk. you try your best to ignore your sore feet that are confined in your pumps and the way your dress rides up your butt. your lack of manners could not and would not be the reason your father missed out on any chance to make some more money. he made that very clear to you. after all, the only reason he dragged you along to all these house parties was so you could make make a stellar impression. he wanted all the businessmen in the room to remember mr. l/n and his charming young daughter when they got in their limousines and drove back home so that they'd remember when they discussed mergers and new projects.

you were never comfortable with the idea of your father essentially using you as some sort of accessory but you sometimes went days on end without seeing him so you took what time you could get. of course, helping him build his empire and boost his reputation wasn't your preferred daddy-daughter activity but you would never tell him that. it would just cause problems in your already rocky relationship and you certainly didn't need that.

"y/n." speak of the devil. "why don't you make conversation with the other guests? or better yet, come talk to these investors. i'm sure they'd love to meet you."

you know exactly what your father means by that so you try to find a reason to decline. anything would be better than watching him suck up to anyone with deep pockets and try to get you to do the same. "um." you repress a relieved sigh when you catch sight of yuna entering and handing her coat to a housekeeper. "actually i see my friend over there. i think i'll just go talk to her."

he frowns and you realize his face seems to be permanently stuck like that when he was around you. you can't remember the last time you'd seen an authentic smile from him. you suppose that was reserved for when he was trying to seal a deal.

"just behave yourself," he says. he leans into your ear. "remember, people are watching."

then he's gone, leaving you standing alone for a split second before yuna comes and takes his place.

"hey!" she draws out the word for dramatic effect.

"hi," you respond, your greeting lacking the enthusiasm hers held. she wasn't your favorite person but it was nice to talk to someone who wasn't observing your every move. it gave you a break from the ridiculous standards everyone else seemed to hold you to.

she brushes her bangs out of her eyes as she sized you up. "ooh, i love your heels! how much?"

"like 15 bucks." her jaw drops and you can't help but giggle. "yeah, i bought them at a thrift store. just don't tell my dad."

she grins. "wow, i always thought thrifting was for poor people but i just might have to check it out now."

that was the thing about yuna. she was stupid rich and she wouldn't have it any other way. she loved designer brands and houses so big you could get lost in them. you didn't blame her for any of that but it was the fact that she didn't mind the stuffy dinner parties and being shown off that was a little puzzling to you. unlike you, she had perfected her fake laugh and polite small talk long ago and sometimes you wondered if she really did care about all these companies and powerful men. but you know that as long as she gets to wear her thousand dollar dresses and go home to her cozy mansion, she'll be happy. she did what it took to keep her lavish lifestyle and was a little too materialistic for your liking and you guess that's where you and her are different.

you finally answer her. "yeah, definitely. it's a lot of fun."

her eyes light up. "we should go together one of these days!"

your silence is definitely too long but thankfully, yuna doesn't notice. her short attention span had caused her to focus on something else—more specifically, someone.

"oh my god," she says. "who is that?"

a boy who looks around your age has appeared, accompanied by a middle-aged man in a suit. the older man is more put together by far but you still can't help but stare at who you assume to be his son. he's wearing a black jacket on top of a striped shirt and you notice that chains hang from his neck. a belt holds up a pair of dark and tight pants. and, god, is he wearing converse?

you can't help but crack a smile at that. you envy his comfortable look; you would trade all the chanel and prada in the world just to wear a t-shirt and pair of sneakers and not have everyone in the room judge you for it. but his outfit isn't the only thing you admire. he must have crazy amounts of confidence to show up looking like he does when being surrounded by so many managers, executives, and company heads. you can only imagine what they're thinking and yet, the boy didn't seem to care or look uncomfortable in the slightest. in fact, he seems oddly at ease, his eyes scanning the room. at one point his eyes sweep over you and you lock eyes.

you watch as he brushes his bangs out of his face, almost like he's trying to get a better look at you. you only stare back, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. he offers you a half smile, his eyes squinting slightly and cheeks growing. you can't help but smile back, noticing just how the stranger's had an adorable baby face.

he looks away when he notices his father gravitating towards a group of businessmen and follows him. you almost wonder if he was in the same position as you were, if he was nothing but a poster child who was shown off at every event and party there was. then you notice how his father holds him tightly and smiles widely—genuinely—when he introduces him to others.

your father never did that. he wouldn't let you wear clothes like that either. you could only assume that this boy and his father were different from the rest of you. maybe they sat down and had dinner together everyday? talked to each other about their day? you almost throw the idea out of your head completely because it seems just too foreign to you.

"oh my god," yuna says. that seemed to be her favorite phrase. "i've never seen them before. what do you think they're doing here?"

you shrug. "maybe they're new to town?"

she hums. you both stay silent, observing the pair before yuna seems to grow impatient. "well i'm gonna go meet them. i can't handle being out of the loop. wanna come?"

you say agree. you feel obligated to. for the first time in forever you're actually interested in something at one of these dull parties, you're not going to stand around and just watch.

you approach the newcomers, both your fathers and a couple other businessmen conversing with them. you wonder if they've already asked them how much they're worth or if they had the decency to wait a minute before sticking their noses in their business. but, you knew how people like them operated; decency was way too much to ask.

"hi daddy!" yuna enters the conversation swiftly.

"hi, sweetheart," her father responds, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "this is my precious daughter, mr. zhong." he turns to yuna. "he and his son are visiting us all the way from our china branch. yuna, introduce yourself."

she doesn't need to be told twice. "hello, i'm yuna. i'm 17 years old and i'm studying at daewon preparatory. we're glad to have you here.it's a pleasure to meet you both."

mr. zhong smiles fondly at her. "the pleasure is all mine, young lady. what a beautiful daughter you have, mr. shin. she seems very capable."

yuna's father pulls her close to him, smiling at mr. zhong then her. "she sure is." you catch the subtle wink he throws her way, a silent 'good job' for that cute little introduction she did which was sure to score them some popularity points with the zhongs.

your father pulls you close to him and wraps an arm around your figure. both mr. zhong and mr. shin seem to be quite the fans of physical contact and although your father was not, you know that if that's what it took to make a good impression, he would become one, at least for the night.

"this is my daughter, mr. zhong." he turns to you and you take it as a cue to say something.

"hello, mr. zhong. i'm y/n." your introduction ends there and you feel your dad's grip on your arm tighten, indicating how unsatisfied he was with your brief answer.

you catch mr. zhong's son smile for the second time that night. although there is no mysterious eye contact this time, just a cute boy probably making fun of your lame introduction.

"well, how old are you, y/n?" mr. zhong asks, making conversation for you.

"i'm eighteen."

"oh, so is my son! isn't that right, chenle?"

his son—chenle—nods.

"well, i think we should leave the children to become acquainted. what do you think, gentlemen?"

everyone seems to agree. then, all that's left is the three of you.

to your surprise, chenle speaks first and it's a reintroduction. "i'm chenle."

you copy him. "i'm y/n."

"and i'm yuna. so, you're from china right?" she doesn't give him a chance to respond. "i read that there are over four million millionaires there. are you one of them?"

he furrows his brows and you can't help but sigh at yuna's question. she was fixed on the money aspect of things, as usual.

"i guess," he says, giving it little thought.

she practically squeals. "you're probably one of the youngest in the country! have you ever thought about that?"

"not really. i don't really like to think about money or these companies or big shot business dudes or any of that," he says, bluntly. "i mean, it would just make me feel more privileged than i already am. besides, it's all just a big headache. i'll leave it for the old man."

yuna's face falls and you hold in a laugh.

you finally chime in. "you know what, i have to agree. so much money can drive a person crazy. sometimes it even goes straight to their heads."

chenle can't hold back his amused snort. both him and yuna know exactly who you're referring to.

she wastes no time defending herself.  "but, with reason y/n. to be fair, only 1% of millionaires are under 35 and here i am at 16."

you restrain yourself from scoffing. "well i'm sure the other 99% of the population doesn't get things handed to them on a silver platter by their daddy, yuna."

she stares you down, her huge, hazel eyes never leaving your e/c ones. "i think it'd be best if i excused myself. i'm going to go find my father, if you both don't mind."

"not at all," chenle mumbles as you both watch her stomp away.

you exhale loudly. "i knew i was gonna snap one of these days."

"well, if you didn't i would have," chenle responds.

"frankly, i don't regret a thing," you say, turning back to his smiling face.

"mm, and what if she tells daddy?" he inquires, folding his arms.

you playfully raise a brow. "i'll have you know, i'm one of the 1% of millionaires that are under 35, i think i have the advantage."  

he giggles. "oh god, that was unbelievable. where did she even get those numbers from?"

"i have no idea but it was just… painful to watch. i'm gonna need a breath of fresh air after that."

he nods in agreement and you both walk towards the nearby balcony.  you step outside, the breeze whipping your hair all over the place and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"you know," he begins before silence can settle upon you two for too long. "i was really hoping there would be someone around my age here tonight. and i don't know if you usually come to these things or if you don't but either way, i am so glad you're here."

this comment reminds you of the way he had stared you down upon arriving and it makes your face feel a little warm despite the cool air of the night. "'cause i'm the only thing standing between you and a wonderful night with yuna."  

"oh i'm sure it would've been real wonderful." he gives you a 'yeah right' look. "we couldn't even hang around each other for more than five minutes, i'm positive it would've been a long night."

you nod. "every night with her is. usually she's the only person i end up talking to at these things and let me just say, i think she's more money-hungry than all the men in there combined."

chenle whistles, lowly. "combined? that's dangerous."

"yeah, she takes after daddy," you mutter, picking at your nail polish that has begun to peel.

"what a relief you don't," he says. "or else i think i would have thrown myself off this balcony by now."

"well, you don't have to worry about that. you and i are on the same boat. money doesn't interest me all that much. definitely not to that extent."

"what does interest you?" chenle asks, turning his attention to you instead of the city lights in the distance.

you shrug. "i haven't figured it out yet. i'm too busy trying to be perfect. and i have a long way to go. just ask my dad, he seems to have really strong opinions on the matter."

"oh, i get it," he says. "you're so focused on being the perfect daughter that you haven't figured out what's going on in there." he wiggles his finger around your forehead.

"i just… want to make him happy. i want to see him smile because of me. even if 'me' is that daughter he expects me to be. i'm okay with being her. i'll take it."

chenle furrows his eyebrows and suddenly he doesn't seem to get it anymore. "you really... become an entirely different person? just for him? i mean, you seem like a good daughter. i don't understand that, y/n."

"and you won't understand, chenle," you respond. "because your dad loves you. he lets you wear your edgy clothes to business parties and doesn't worry about what everyone else is gonna think. he doesn't worry about first impressions, he doesn't force you to become someone else for strangers. he doesn't put any business deal above you. he doesn't chose his job over you, chenle and that's great. i'm so happy that's not the case with you. but it is for me. and when you know that the only time your dad is going to want anything to do with you is when you can help him make a quick buck or good impression, you resort to facades and doing anything you can to make him appreciate you. just a little."

chenle's arms envelop your shivering figure before you can say another word. his hands run up and down your arms and his chin rests atop your head. he inhales deeply, taking in your wonderful scent. he knows it's probably some off the wall expensive perfume.

"i'm so sorry, y/n," he mumbles into your coconut scented locks. "i'm sorry that you have to do that and that i won't ever be able to understand it. you just deserve… so much more than that. do you realize how true that must be for a boy you just met today to see it? and it breaks my heart that your own father doesn't because you really shouldn't have to suffer through that. he doesn't have his priorities straight but that shouldn't be an excuse for him to neglect his own daughter." he detaches from you so he can look directly into your glossy eyes, holding you at an arm's length away.  "and he has no idea what he's missing out on, y/n. you're so headstrong, so humble and so much more than just a pretty face or someone's daughter. and if he can't treat you like the incredible individual you are then...." he exhales and you catch his breath blow in the air. "then please let me."

your bottom lip is quivering. you had never heard such nice words. and you don't have the slightest idea what he means by that last bit but you still nod and jump right back into his arms. because you have decided that's where you feel safest. where you can be yourself, freely and unapologetically.

"the second i walked in this place, i hated it," he mumbles and a laugh escapes your lips. "but then i saw you. and it got a little better. then i met you. and it got a lot better. we just met but i already can't seem to get enough of you, y/n." he chuckles as if he can't believe it himself. "you must be something really special. and i have the privilege of seeing that."

you move away from his chest and look up at him. your hands thread through his tufts of hair that match the darkness of the night sky. his hands stay planted firmly at his waist. you feel like he has no intention of letting go. you would be lying if you said you did either. and neither of you seem to have a problem with it.

"i can't wait for you to finally feel what it's like to be treated how you deserve. and i can't wait to be the guy to show you. i am so, so lucky."

you smile, your teeth on display. "i'm actually so glad i came tonight. that is definitely a first."

he laughs. "speaking of firsts..." he trails off, shyly.

you raise a brow, just to tease him a bit. "what are you getting at, mr. zhong?"

he knows you're joking yet his heart pounds as he leans in and asks for permission to kiss you. "may i, ms. l/n?"

"you may," you respond, meeting him halfway.

[kunalbhamre]

From 1 to 200 million $ supply chain

This is a story of seven ordinary women who had no background in business, no significant educational qualification and with just 80 rupees(1$) in the capital, they were able to build a business empire worth 1600 crores(200 million $) which are spread across 69 branches and more than 42000 employees. This homegrown brand is other than Shri Mahila Griha Udyog Lijjat Papad. Now, what is more, fascinating about this company is not the growth but the fact that the business philosophies of this home-grown company somehow seem to have a very close resemblance to extraordinary companies like Starbucks and Apple.

The question is what is so special about this papad(Indian dried bread) company and how has it lasted for more than 62 years and how did these seven women manage to build a business Empire out of just 80 rupees in the capital? The answer to this question lies in the incredible history of the Lijjat Papad. This is a story that dates back to the late 1950’s India when India was a fairly underdeveloped country, and back then let alone education, even literacy was considered to be a luxury. Even in terms of literacy during those times, women's literacy was not even considered important because of which only 8% of women in India could actually read and write, while 92 percent of women in India were illiterate. On top of that, women were not even allowed to go out and work and the earning capacity of the families was not enough to afford a decent standard of living. That is when in 1959 Mumbai, A group of seven amazing women from very ordinary backgrounds, came together to discuss a business idea that wouldn't need them to step out of the house also wouldn't need education, and yet could produce a competitive product in the market. That is how the idea of Lijjat papad was born with just 80 rupees of capital that was given to them by a social worker. They first started selling their papad at a local store and soon enough due to the superb quality and taste of the papad, even other shops started buying their papad, and that's when they started scaling up.

Now, when they started scaling, they have the opportunity to hire women at a dearth cheap cost because they were one of the rarest avenues of income for women which allowed them to work from home. But when these women have the first board meeting they established the fact that the primary goal of their business wouldn't be to make money but to empower women from the smallest house of the country and to provide them with the livelihood to nurture their family. More importantly, they also established the fact that money would only be used as a fuel to scale their impact on the women of India and not be the sole purpose of their existence. So instead of hiring women, they started to give out ownership to every single woman who joined their business and call them Lijjat sisters rather than employees. This is what you call collective ownership wherein every employee owns a small part of the company, such that, the profits and losses both are shared by every single person in the organization. So regardless of your age caste or religion, even if you are at the lowest hierarchy of the Lijjat Papad organization, you would still own a part of the business. Now, most of us might think that this is just a little business move, but this attribute of collective ownership is one of the foundational principles that make Starbucks an extraordinary company. Just like the sisters of Lijjat Papad, who own a small part of the company regardless of their position in the organization, every employee at Starbucks is considered as a partner in the business, rather than an employee. Starting from the Baristas who serve coffee to the customers, all the way up to the Senior Management officers, each one of them is offered stock options of the company. So this way just like the Lijjat sisters, every employee in Starbucks could be a small owner of the company. And this move develops, a deep sense of ownership which cultivates a culture of greatness, wherein every employee is motivated to go out of the way and to contribute diligently towards the growth of the organization. But the only difference between both these companies is that while Starbucks. Ideated this with MBA masterminds and with a million dollar Capital bracket, the seven sisters of Lijjat did it way before starboard's in 1959 without even knowing what is an MBA degree such was the business acumen of these incredible women.

The second phase of Lijjat was all about building a robust supply chain that would be cost-effective, ensure quality production, and would fit the lifestyle of the women who work for the company. So instead of having huge office spaces, they use the houses of the sisters as their small centers of papad making and the flour would first arrive from the mills to the respective central location wherein the dough is made. The sisters will be brought to the mills by a bus facility provided by the company. They would collect the dough and then go home, make papads, dry them on the home compound and then deliver the papad the next day. And lastly, after your delivery of the papad, they would collect the money and repeat the next cycle. This would be followed by surprise visits by the supervisors to check the quality of oil they use, the hygiene check of the house, and most importantly, the process of making papads. Now, the sisters are also given aluminum papad makers to ensure that the papad is produced in a standardized manner. This happens at all the branches and if one of these branches does very well, the profits are distributed among the sisters. And if not the losses of born by the branch members together.

After all of this comes the most challenging part of all, and that is sticking to the mission statement of the company. In the corporate, everybody knows that Mission, Vision, and values are just fancy words written on the Similarly, in case of college is also even your principal, wouldn't remember the mission and vision statement of your college and if he did it would only be because maybe some committee was visiting to give you a college some certification or rating. This is the reason why most of us do not understand the importance of mission and vision statements. But the mission and vision statements form the very foundations of every single organization, and when designed and followed the right way, they can help the organization sustained for a century. At the same time. If not done right, they can even bring down a million-dollar business. A classy example is Apple. When Steve Jobs got fired from Apple in 1984, Apple was a million-dollar company. Until he was there at the company, the company stuck to its values and it was a formidable player in the industry and as he left, they started to derail from their values. And within just 10 years. They were almost about to go bankrupt. That's when Steve Jobs got called back to Apple to fix things and get the company back on track. After he took over the company, the first question, he asked every single engineer, every single designer, and every single manager was, what does Apple stand for and what are the values that we believe in as a company? Because the biggest mistake that Apple made was that, while he was not around, they started to lose their identity and started to deviate from their values because of which, they started making products with no sense of purpose and eventually the brand lost its unique identity and Customer Loyalty just faded away. So, when he came back  Ask this question and the entire team is absolutely clear as to what exactly they were supposed to do. And this is what got them the ‘Think different’ campaign that told the world what Apple stood for and that thinks differently. Within just two years, the same company with the same engineers and the exact same resources then went on to create history to become a legendary company that made products that changed the world forever. This is the importance of mission and vision statements.

Similarly, In its 62 years of existence, Lijjat Papad has never deviated from its core values. And even today, after expanding 267 branches, scaling up to 42000 employees, and after importing their products to 15 different countries, they still abide by the core philosophy of their business that is ‘Sarvodhya’ which means progress for all.

(All rights reserved to the respective owners. I do not claims ownership to this information provided in this article/blog)

[elizabeth-mitchells]

the only touchstone of truth

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: I Care A Lot (2020) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fran/Marla Grayson Characters: Marla Grayson, Fran (I Care A Lot) Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Origin Story, Canon Backstory, First Meetings, First Kiss, First Dates, Getting Together, Morally Ambiguous Character, Illegal Activities, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Partners in Crime, crime wives

Chapter 2:

There was something different about Marla that day. She wasn’t bored, she wasn’t idly waiting. She was waiting, true, but only because that was part of her plan. Standing behind her counter, her shop more or less back in shape, she wore a different blouse, higher heels, and a smile that sharpened, even more, when somebody came in. Marla sent a quick nod to Curtis, who had instructions on what to do. He pulled out his phone and walked away toward the storage room of the place.

“Marla,” the man greeted her with a perfectly polite and respectful tone that already started to crumble on his second sentence, “I wonder, what on Earth are you trying to do?”

“Mr. Nelson, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marla replied, “It’s a pleasure to have you visit us.” What an honor to have you millionaire, corporate, chain store, ugly ass step on my broken dreams physically this time.

“You cleaned up the store,” he sighed, looking around as if to take a hold of his emotions.

This promptly reminded the blonde of the couple of hours she spent with Curtis destroying her own shop and then putting it back together again. In the upcoming years, Marla would learn just how far she was capable of playing dirty, and many would accuse her of being unscrupulous, among worse adjectives, but nobody would ever dare call her lazy, that was for sure. With or without morals, Marla was an extremely hardworking woman, and she wasn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty, for better or for worse. A practical habit that she cultivated during her days of playing fair, and kept, for some reason. Most likely because idleness simply went against her nature, and she had promised herself not to rest until she achieved her goals. 

“We did, yes. Lots of hard work,” the blonde nodded, “such a shame what happened.”

“Such a shame,” the man echoed the sentiment, speaking on autopilot, but when he focused his eyes on Marla again he was all ice. “You’re accusing us of doing it,” he said.

Purposefully, Marla gave him a deep shrug and another shark-like smile. “I believe it’s the police who marked your company as suspects,” she replied in a mockingly innocent tone.

“We didn’t do it. And the accusation is bad publicity for our business. Drop the lawsuit,” he ordered, his voice starting to shake just slightly. When Marla only shook her head slowly, he scoffed. “You’re nothing, Marla Gray,” he seethed, “Your little business is over. Why would we try to boycott you out of all people? You’re not even competition. Drop the lawsuit.”

“Grayson.”

“What?” he was still laughing with a combination of awkwardness and annoyance.

“My name is Marla Grayson,” she stated using the full power of the commanding nature that she knew she had, “and I will fight for this shop until the end.”

He scoffed again, clearly losing his patience. The man walked to the door of the store and back to the counter once, twice, until he calmed down and not quite looking Marla in the eyes, he offered, “Twenty thousand dollars, and you’ll drop the lawsuit.”

“No,” Marla denied it immediately and before she could fully think about how offensive the offer was, he continued.

“Fifty thousand, Marla,” he said, his face red and his voice trembling. It was a pretty number that put Marla at a crossroads between the attempt to feel offended and the impulse to just ask for more. Either way, that number would not do. She only tilted her head and her expression said it all. “A hundred thousand dollars, dammit! Final offer!”

At this point, Marla made it a point to pick up her vape pen and look as bored as possible. “Please get out of my store, Mr. Nelson. I’ll see you in court,” she concluded.

He shook his head, he was breathing heavily and wildly waved a finger in her direction. “No! This is not over,” he protested, “How dare you say no to me?! I’ll make you regret it, you know?” He made a pause and after seeing that his threat did nothing to disturb her, and in fact, she only exhaled the smoke in a terribly irritating way, he slammed his hands on the counter right in front of her, “Dammit just take the money!”

“I will not,” Marla fumed back at him, barely letting show a hint of her patience running out.

“And you better stop screaming.”

Both Marla and her unwanted guest hastily looked toward the door of the shop. There was Fran, casually leaning against the doorway, not so casually showing off her plaque. At first, the man didn’t even move from his place. But Fran let out a quick whistle and said, “This aggressive visit will not look on your case, Mr. Nelson.”

Finally, the big store owner groaned loudly and without even sparing either woman a word, he stormed away from the place for good.

This quick turn of events left Marla and Fran alone in the shop. Marla stayed behind the counter that she managed to handle like an equivalent to a throne, and Fran took a couple of effortless steps forward until she stood in the middle of the place, directing a small and easy smile at the other woman.

“I must say,” Fran started to say, “I didn’t expect to receive this ‘Marla needs help, come over right now’ text from a number, I assume, that isn’t yours.” She waved her phone once for emphasis.

“Personally, I don’t usually give my number to strangers,” Marla replied, earning herself a chuckle from Fran, who looked away for a second, but when their eyes met again, Marla was sincere as she said, “Thank you for coming, by the way.”

Fran nodded, accepting her gratitude without making a big deal of it. This gave Marla an opportunity to study her again. Fran looked similar to what she did that night showing up to the shop after the staged attack. A ponytail holding on for dear life to wild hair that just begged to be freed, a more or less regular detective’s outfit that most likely wasn’t designed with the purpose of fitting Fran’s curves so scandalously well on every single right place. And then there was the way she simply stood in the middle of the store with immeasurable confidence. Nothing to hide behind, nothing to lean into, just her in an open space without any issue with Marla’s eyes glued to her. She wasn’t standing there like she owned the place, not exactly. It looked like she couldn’t care less about ownership, but her world consisted of only her, and she didn’t care enough about any authority to give them the power of deciding if she belonged or if she was out of place. Fran carried herself as if the rest of the world’s ideas of right or wrong were mere suggestions. Nothing sounded more appealing to Marla.

“You weren’t exactly in trouble though,” Fran contemplated, reluctantly breaking the silence, “you looked like you had it handled.”

“But you did scare him off,” Marla grinned.

“And you didn’t take the money.”

“Do I look like someone that would have taken the money?”

Fran laughed, because they both knew the answer to that question very well. She walked forward until she could lean her arms on the infamous counter, not quite in front of Marla, just a little to the side. “Maybe you should have,” she finally mused, “this might be bigger than you, gorgeous.”

This development in their interactions came with considerable consequences for Marla, who had underestimated the effect it would have on her to have Fran again standing so close to her. She wouldn’t back down though, she wouldn’t lose her higher ground, but she couldn’t deny the fact that Fran shook her to her core in a magnitude previously unknown to Marla. She couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer until it was obviously too late, so she stayed silent, picked up her pen, and after taking a drag she left it on the counter. This seemed to spark Fran’s attention, who had previously been content to just study Marla’s face from up close and during the daylight.

“So, are you going to offer me one of these,” the brunette wondered, lightly tapping with her fingertip the tip of the pen standing between them, “or a coffee… a drink… should you at least walk me to my car?”

“I will… walk you to your car,” Marla decided, after a quick and not exactly pleasant assessment of the situation. There was nothing she’d love more than to take Fran’s hand and either lead her out of that damned store or guide her to the other side of the locked door of her office. But there were already smoke signals in the air between them that she couldn’t ignore. This could be dangerous, this was possibly great, this was certainly bigger than either of them was accustomed to. Marla was stunned by the undeniable fact that she wasn’t sure how to handle Fran, and equally as unsettled but no less excited about the fact that she had no idea how Fran would handle her. She had no doubt they could handle each other, but until she felt completely confident in a perfect plan of action, she would have to see for how long and how much she could feed this ferocious and inexplicable fire that was burning between them.

As they approached Fran’s vehicle, Marla made two statements. “I will not take the money,” she said, followed by, “and that’s not a car.”

Fran winked, “My mistake.” She leaned back on the motorcycle and focused her attention on the blonde in front of her.

“I’m taking that asshole to court,” Marla managed to say, despite that unexpected and entirely alluring image of Fran standing just like that. She should have known that even the safest option among all that the brunette had offered would still come with a trick to test Marla’s hesitant boundaries.

“For something you did?”

“I’ll have to close either way,” Marla rolled her eyes, “He took me out of business. I have to take something from him. Something big.”

Fran tilted her head. “Do you have experience in court?” she wondered.

“I’m confident I can manage,” Marla smiled.

“Of course,” the other woman chuckled. “Though,” she added, “if only you had… an acquaintance, who happened to be knowledgeable in the shady alleyways of court and would be willing to give you a hand.”

Fran was barely done with her word when suddenly Marla was almost on top of her. Marla had moved quickly and swiftly, standing impossibly close to Fran, somehow not touching, but if any of them were to so much as breathe a little harder than usual their bodies would meet in all the right places. Which was maybe the reason Fran was suddenly holding her breath. Marla had placed both hands on the bike, on either side of Fran’s hips, trapping her in place, while holding her face just inches away from the other woman.

“What do you want,” Marla slowly asked, “Fran?”

“Why do you assume I want something?”

Being softly hit with Fran’s breath on her cheek was an unexpected consequence of Marla’s plan, but she held her ground. Very deliberately, one of her hands moved slowly and confidently to one of the back pockets of Fran’s pants. The brunette, to her credit, her only reaction was a noticeable clench of her jaw, but she stood still while Marla pulled out her phone and mercifully stepped away to let both of them breathe a little easier.

“Unlock it, I’ll save my number,” Marla held out Fran’s own phone for her and proceeded to follow through with her words. 

Fran got her heart rate almost back to normal as she watched Marla quickly tap the screen, and deciding the only right thing to possibly say at that moment was to answer Marla’s question, she said, “Give me a percentage of the money you’ll make with the lawsuit. So I can finally quit the police.”

Beyond pleased with that answer, Marla bit her lip for a moment then returned the phone. “And here I thought you were just trying to have dinner with me,” she said to Fran right before walking away from her, but not before looking back just in time to catch the other woman staring, and adding a final smile she threw over her shoulder, “See you soon, Fran.”

[prakhayth]

Understanding The Different Types of Cryptocurrency

January 15, 2021 · 8 minute read

We’re here to help! First and foremost, SoFi Learn strives to be a beneficial resource to you as you navigate your financial journey. Read more

Cryptocurrencies can act like real money—in a sense, they are real money—but they take a digital monetary form and are not managed or governed by any central authority. A true product of the digital age, cryptocurrencies operate without the involvement of banks, governments, or any middleman. However, in most cases you will need to use a digital currency exchange to buy and sell cryptocurrency.

In 2020, there were more than 50 million blockchain wallet users.

What provides security is that cryptocurrencies are encrypted (secured) with specialized computer code called cryptography. They’re designed like a complicated puzzle on purpose so that they’re hard to crack (and hack).

By September 2020, the number of blockchain wallet users rose to more than 50 million, according to research published by Statista  —with Bitcoin boasting more than 7 million active users.

Insiders call it “crypto,” so that’s what we’ll be calling it going forward.

How Many Different Types of Crypto Are There?

As of April 2021, there are over 10,000 different types  of cryptocurrency.

The different types of crypto generally fall into one of two categories: •  Coins, which can include Bitcoin and altcoins (non-Bitcoin cryptocurrencies) •  Tokens

Below, we’ll get into the basics of crypto tokens vs coins.

Crypto Tokens vs. Coins

Encrypted coins and tokens can fall under the heading of crypto. And, generally, they can be listed into two sorts of cryptocurrency: alternative cryptocurrency coins (Altcoins) or tokens.

Alternative Cryptocurrency Coins (Altcoins)

Altcoins usually refer to any coins that are not Bitcoins. Bitcoin is a popular digital currency that’s produced by computational solutions to complicated math problems. It works separately from a central bank or state entity (i.e., government-backed Treasury).

Some altcoins include:

•  Peercoin •  Litecoin •  Dogecoin •  Auroracoin •  Namecoin

In fact, the name “altcoin” actually means “alternative to Bitcoin.” Namecoin is considered the very first altcoin, created in 2011.

Like Bitcoin, most cryptocurrencies listed here have a limited supply of coins—to keep the balance in check and to reinforce its perceived value. There is a fixed number of Bitcoins that can exist—21 million, as decided by the creator/s of Bitcoin, though some remain to be mined. Once all 21 million are tapped (the number changes when new blocks are mined), that’s it. The only way to bring in more is for Bitcoin’s protocol to allow for it.

Though most altcoins are built upon the same basic framework as Bitcoin, many claim to be better versions of Bitcoin. Each system can differ from the next, as they’re created to serve various purposes and applications, and identified in different ways.

Some coins don’t work with the same open-source protocol that Bitcoin does, however. For example, the following list of cryptocurrencies have created their own separate systems and protocols:

•  Ethereum •  Ripple •  Omni •  Nxt •  Waves •  Counterparty

They’re each self-supporting, too.

Tokens

Unlike altcoins, tokens are created and given out through an Initial Coin Offering, or ICO, very much like a stock offering. They can be represented as:

•  Value tokens (Bitcoins) •  Security tokens (to protect your account) •  Utility tokens (designated for specific uses)

They are not so much meant to be used as money as they are used to describe a function. Like American dollars, they represent value but they are not in themselves of value. Tokens are a type of encryption, specifically referring to the long lines of numbers and letters representing the crypto used in a transaction, such as a money transfer or bill payment. In short, tokens cover a number of meanings.

For instance, both Bitcoin and Ether (from Ethereum) are considered crypto tokens.

Ready to add crypto

to your portfolio?

Trade Now

The Most Common Types of Cryptocurrency

Here’s a list of popular cryptocurrency types and descriptions:

1. Bitcoin

Bitcoin is a type of digital currency; it is “cash for the internet.” More specifically, it’s considered cryptocurrency since cryptography facilitates Bitcoin creation and transactions.

Possibly the “Kleenex” or “Coca Cola” of all crypto, in that its name is the most recognizable and the most closely associated with the cryptocurrency system.

There are currently  more than 18.5 million Bitcoin tokens in circulation, against a present capped limit of 21 million.

2. Bitcoin Cash

Introduced in 2017, Bitcoin Cash is one of the most popular types of cryptocurrency on the market. Its main difference with the original Bitcoin is its block size: 8MB. Compare that to the original Bitcoin’s block size of just 1MB. What that means for users—faster processing speeds.

3. Litecoin

Litecoin is increasingly used in the same breath as Bitcoin, and it functions practically the same way. It was created in 2011 by Charlie Lee, a former employee of Google. He designed it to improve on Bitcoin technology, with shorter transaction times, lower fees, more concentrated miners.

4. Ethereum

Unlike Bitcoin, Ethereum focuses not as much on digital currency as it does on decentralized applications (phone apps). You could think of Ethereum as an app store.

The platform is looking to return control of apps to its original creators, and take away that control from middlemen (like Apple, for instance). The only person who can make changes to the app would be the original creator. The token used here is called Ether, which is used as currency by app developers and users.

5. Ripple

Ripple is one type of cryptocurrency on the list, but it’s not Blockchain-based  . It’s not meant so much for individual users as it is for larger companies and corporations, moving larger amounts of money (its coinage is known as XRP) across the globe.

It’s more well-known for its digital payment protocol more than for its XRP crypto. That’s because the system allows for transfer of monies in any form, be it dollars or even Bitcoin (or others). It claims to be able to handle 1,500 transactions per second (tps). Compare this with Bitcoin, which can handle 3-6 tps (not including scaling layers). Ethereum can handle 15 tps.

6. Stellar

Stellar focuses on money transfers, and its network is designed to make them faster and more efficient, even across national borders. It was designed by Ripple co-founder Jed McCaleb in 2014 and is operated by a non-profit organization called Stellar.org  .

Its goal is to assist developing economies that may not have access to traditional banks and investment opportunities. It doesn’t charge users or institutions for using its Stellar network, and covers operating costs by accepting tax-deductible public donations.

7. NEO

Formerly called Antshares and developed in China, NEO is very aggressively looking to become a major global crypto player. Its focus is smart contracts (digital contracts) that allow users to create and execute agreements without the use of an intermediary.

It’s going after its main competition, Ethereum, but NEO lead developer Erik Zhang mentioned  on a Reddit AMA that NEO has three distinct advantages—better architecture, more developer-friendly smart contracts, and digital identity and digital assets for easier integration into the real world.

Ethereum, on the other hand, uses its own programming languages that developers must first learn before creating smart contracts on its platform.

8. Cardano

Cardano aka ADA is used to send and receive digital funds. It claims to be a more balanced and sustainable ecosystem for cryptocurrencies, and the only coin with a “scientific philosophy and research-driven approach.”

That means that it undergoes especially rigorous reviews by scientists and programmers. It was founded by Charles Hoskinson, who is also the co-founder of Ethereum.

9. IOTA

Launched in 2016, IOTA stands for Internet of Things Application. Unlike most other Blockchain technologies, it doesn’t actually work with a block and chain; it works with smart devices on the Internet of Things (IoT).

All you need to do to use it is to verify two other previous transactions on the IOTA ledger, which is called the Directed Acyclic Graph (DAG), but IOTA creators call it The Tangle.

According to Coin Central  , this means the devices need to be able to purchase more electricity, bandwidth, storage, or data when they need them, and sell those resources when they don’t need them.

The Role of Miners In Cryptocurrency

How exactly do you get your virtual hands on different types of cryptocurrency? You can buy it the old-fashioned way. Or, you can trade it on an exchange using other crypto (for example, using Bitcoin to buy NEO). Some blogs and media platforms pay its content providers in crypto.

Then, there are the miners  . Miners usually don’t pay directly for their crypto; they earn it with their smarts. These tech savvy investors can be compared to the prospectors of the Old West, panning for gold in 1848.

The value is built in because the supply is limited—it’s just up to the complex computers to dig it up by cracking codes and solving complicated puzzles. A lot of it is guesswork, but once the “block” (of the blockchain) is solved, the other miners drop what they’re doing and go on to the next block. No parting gifts—the contestants just turn their attention to the next game round.

If the puzzle is solved, the reward is a certain amount of crypto, and sometimes even voting power on the platform. As of October 2020, the value of one bitcoin had well exceeded $13,000  .

Sounds sweet, but mining isn’t cheap. It requires powerful, expensive hardware and lots of electricity. Also, the number of awarded crypto will be going down, usually by halves every four years or so. Unfortunately, that might not do your utility bill any favors.

Forks, Hard Forks, and Soft Forks

Sometimes, a cryptocurrency—whether Bitcoin or an altcoin—forks. This typically happens when systems need an upgrade or update, or occasional steering (ie a large enough group of miners decide to make new rules for the network.

You could think of a fork like an actual fork, the kind you eat with. Each prong represents a different open-source code modification, but the prongs are designed to work together to assist in the main function.

Sometimes, forks happen by accident when nodes start making copies or if they do not recognize conflicting or unfamiliar information or characteristics. This is what leads to the difference between hard forks and soft forks.

Hard Forks

If a protocol is changed so that the old protocol version is no longer valid, call that a hard fork. This could be problematic, because if the older, now-invalid protocol is still running, it could lead you to scratch your head and say, “what the fork?” It could cause confusion and even possibly a loss of funds, because the old and new protocols running together are butting heads and making mysteries.

An example of a hard-fork problem—with Bitcoin, for instance, a hard fork is a must when making changes and protocol updates to the Blockchain. The new protocol is cool with the changes, but the old protocol becomes a hot mess, not understanding the new activity going on.

Since the old protocol rejects the new changes because it doesn’t recognize them, that causes a traffic jam or worse. The old protocol will claim that the changes and updates are not valid, even if they are. What you then get are two blockchains, one old and one new. As these chains grow, so can your problems.

The hard-fork challenge, then, is to get all the nodes on the old protocol to switch to the new protocol all at once, and at the same time. This sounds easy, but technically it’s easier said than done.

Soft Forks

Unlike a hard fork, a soft fork is totally cool with the new changes and keeps working. The old version accepts the newer version. Harmony! The newer, updated blocks become longer, and it becomes obvious that the older (shorter) blocks are obsolete and unusable. This recognition eliminates confusion over which protocol is now the real deal (it’s the newer, valid one.)

When a soft fork is implemented, there has to be a “majority vote” on whether to accept it into the established fold. If not, the new soft fork fails, and the rest of the chain simply goes on it with its life with no interruption. Hard-and-soft forking can cause all kinds of unintended consequences. When members of the Ethereum community rejected a hard-fork change and decided to keep going with the non-forked version of Ethereum, that old-school system was renamed Ethereum Classic.

When Bitcoin hard-forked in order to add more functionality, a portion of the Bitcoin Cash community was left behind and was cut off from the rest of the network.

The Current View of Crypto

Bitcoin and other crypto have recently come under fire for their ability to be involved in illegal transactions.

Three words—wait and see. And add two words to that—be careful. An October 2020 Bloomberg report  stated that Bitcoin approached its highest valuation since 2017.

Dead Coins lists 1,050 digital currencies and initial coin offerings (ICO) as either “deceased.” Coinopsy  catalogues cryptocurrency lists of more than 1,700 coins as nearly worthless.

It’s possible that a good number of those failed cryptos were scams, and the authentic, true-quality systems remain in place.

Furthermore, from a perception perspective, Bitcoin and other crypto have recently come under fire for their ability to be involved in illegal transactions, thefts, and scams. That’s just one of the reasons that investing in the list of cryptocurrencies out there still carries significant risk. Crypto has also been suspected as being a part of an economic bubble that may still pop.

The Takeaway

While Bitcoin launched a new asset class little more than a decade ago, today there are many different cryptocurrencies for investors to learn about and invest in.

If your curiosity about cryptocurrency is fueled by a desire to start investing, SoFi Invest® can be a great place to start. SoFi members can manage crypto investments in the SoFi app, with the peace of mind of knowing their crypto is in a secure platform.

Find out how SoFi Invest can help you with your investment goals.

Learn More

SoFi Invest® The information provided is not meant to provide investment or financial advice. Investment decisions should be based on an individual’s specific financial needs, goals and risk profile. SoFi can’t guarantee future financial performance. Advisory services offered through SoFi Wealth, LLC. SoFi Securities, LLC, member FINRA  / SIPC  . SoFi Invest refers to the three investment and trading platforms operated by Social Finance, Inc. and its affiliates (described below). Individual customer accounts may be subject to the terms applicable to one or more of the platforms below. 1) Automated Investing—The Automated Investing platform is owned by SoFi Wealth LLC, an SEC Registered Investment Advisor (“Sofi Wealth“). Brokerage services are provided to SoFi Wealth LLC by SoFi Securities LLC, an affiliated SEC registered broker dealer and member FINRA/SIPC, (“Sofi Securities). 2) Active Investing—The Active Investing platform is owned by SoFi Securities LLC. Clearing and custody of all securities are provided by APEX Clearing Corporation. 3) Cryptocurrency is offered by SoFi Digital Assets, LLC, a FinCEN registered Money Service Business. For additional disclosures related to the SoFi Invest platforms described above, including state licensure of Sofi Digital Assets, LLC, please visit www.sofi.com/legal. Neither the Investment Advisor Representatives of SoFi Wealth, nor the Registered Representatives of SoFi Securities are compensated for the sale of any product or service sold through any SoFi Invest platform. Information related to lending products contained herein should not be construed as an offer or pre-qualification for any loan product offered by SoFi Lending Corp and/or its affiliates. Crypto: Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies aren’t endorsed or guaranteed by any government, are volatile, and involve a high degree of risk. Consumer protection and securities laws don’t regulate cryptocurrencies to the same degree as traditional brokerage and investment products. Research and knowledge are 

[tabloidtoc]

National Examiner, April 12

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Mark Harmon quitting NCIS

Page 2: Stars Who Rock Around the Clock -- they believe in the healing power of crystals -- Naomi Campbell, Shirley MacLaine, Adele, Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, Uma Thurman

Page 3: Debra Messing, Goldie Hawn and Kate Hudson, Megan Fox, Katy Perry, Gisele Bundchen

Page 4: Eddie Murphy's roles and costumes

Page 6: George Clooney is turning 60 in May, and he says being an older dad to toddlers has its benefits -- his son isn't ever going to feel competitive with him and he'll be gumming his bread by the time he'd feel competitive with him, jokes the Oscar-winning actor, whose twins Ella and Alexander turn 4 in June -- George is well aware that growing up with two highly accomplished parents (his wife Amal Clooney is a successful human rights lawyer) can put a lot of pressure on a kid and that's why the couple is already guiding Ella and Alexander with strong values and kind hearts because George says it's their job to make sure that they care about people and that they challenge people in power and look out for people who don't have power and those are the things he was raised with -- the known prankster is also passing the practical joke tradition down to the next generation and he taught Alexander to take a piece of banana, chew it up and then spit it into a napkin, then stand next to him mom, pretend to blow his nose into it and look down until Mama looks at it, then eat it

Page 7: Partridge Family star Shirley Jones turned 87, and she's brimming over with gratitude for her wonderful life that's been chock-full of extraordinary experiences -- she says you have to have a good time and enjoy life to the fullest and before you know it you'll be 87 -- Shirley has three sons (her stepson David Cassidy died in 2017) and 13 grandchildren

Page 8: Take your etiquette test for tea with Queen Elizabeth

Page 9: Brain foods that may help prevent dementia

* Study says new drug slows Alzheimer's

Page 10: Jennifer Garner recently opened up about her real feelings on her body -- she's 48 and single and has three children with ex-husband Ben Affleck: daughters Violet and Seraphina and son Samuel -- in a recent interview, she admitted that her body has changed a lot since having three kids and she doesn't mind one little bit, even though she was hurt when a friend hinted she may be expecting again, saying there are some women whose bodies just, no matter how many babies they have, they bounce right back to that slim-hipped, no stomach and she has so many girlfriends who have that physique and she's so happy for them, but she's not one of them and she can work really hard and she can be really fit and she will still look like a woman who's had three babies and she always will

Page 11: 6 stomach symptoms you should never ignore -- catch problems before the become deadly

Page 12: After more than two decades, James Brolin says he's discovered the way to keep his marriage to Barbra Streisand going strong: negotiation -- it's taken two marriages and 22 years for him to figure it out and he and his wife have gotten so close being locked down together -- his mother was the sweetest person so he never really learned to negotiate with women but now he knows if you sit down and talk about a situation, you can work it out

Page 14: Dear Tony, America's Top Psychic Healer -- don't make snap judgments; you may lose the perfect mate -- Tony predicts a very hot summer coming and a lot more street crime

Page 15: Folks getting their COVID-19 vaccinations at the Berkshire Community College in Massachusetts got a shocking treat: a mini-concert from world-famous cellist Yo-Yo Ma -- while waiting out his 15-minute observation period, the musician sat down to play a socially distant symphony for his fellow inoculees

Page 16: Duchess Kate is never seen without a purse, but what exactly does she keep inside it? There's quite a history between royal women and their handbags: Princess Diana used her clutch bag to cover her cleavage from prying photographers, Queen Elizabeth moves her handbag from one arm to the other to signal to her staff when she's bored of chatting with someone, and Kate carries her bag in her left hand so she can keep her right hand free to greet and shake hands with guests and she holds her bag in front of her when shaking hands might be awkward -- according to royal protocol pre-pandemic, Kate must extend her hand first for another person to shake hands with her, so if she prefers to just smile instead of touching other folks, she uses her clutch to do that -- author Marcia Moody who wrote Kate: A Biography, says the duchess always carries four must-have items: in her small clutch, she carries a compact mirror, a handkerchief, blotting paper and lip balm and every now and then, if she's going to attend a tennis match, for example, Kate will carry a pair of sunglasses -- unlike Queen Elizabeth, whose purses come from a company called Launer, the duchess favors different brands, but mostly a company called Mulberry -- nowadays with three small children, the mom gravitates toward midsize bags with handles because she's got to take more items with her like a handy bunch of tissues, good for wiping little noses and faces, and also takes her camera along

Page 18: William Shatner confesses that when he starred in Star Trek during the mid-60s, he had no idea it would become a worldwide phenomenon still popular today -- Shatner, who turned 90 in March, says it's unimaginable and it's all beyond anybody's imagination or ability to repeat and the greatest thing about being the captain of the Enterprise for three years was his relationship with the cast and the roles were written so well

Page 19: Brandy is a one-in-a million cat because those are the odds she'd ever be found again after she went missing 15 years ago -- when Charles got the phone call from a California animal shelter that his missing pet has been found, he could scarcely believe his ears and the Los Angeles man was skeptical and thought it must be a mistake but he had made sure the two-month-old kitten had a microchip and sure enough, the malnourished stray they found was his Brandy -- Charles did break down and cry because he thought about all of the years he lost from her and when he picked her up, she started to purr and it was very emotional

Page 20: Mark Harmon finally lured wife Pam Dawber out of retirement to star alongside him on NCIS, but the pairing will be short-lived because he's leaving the show after 18 hit seasons -- the 69-year-old star is finally fed up with the backbreaking hours, endless rehearsals, and feuds with cast and crew, and plans to ride off into the sunset with Pam and retire to the couple's Montana Ranch -- Mark's contract is up after season 18, and he's agonized over whether to sign a new one and he's being offered the moon and the stars to come back for a few more seasons, but he says his heart just isn't in it and Mark has faced problems on the set over the past few years and he feels his age, he just doesn't need the aggravation anymore -- NCIS recently teased a possible departure of his character Leroy Gibbs when the special agent commander was suspended for assaulting and nearly killing a suspect but despite that, Harmon insists Gibbs not be killed off so he can leave the door open for a possible return

Page 22: Legendary actor Michael Caine just turned 88 and he's still going strong, starring in an upcoming comedy Best Sellers and says he knows he's old but he doesn't feel old, not in his head, where it matters

Page 24: They say money doesn't buy happiness, but what do people spend their money on that can buy happiness? You don't need millions of dollars to afford the things that happy people buy to stay that way and studies show that anything over $75,000 a year in income is gravy, which means yachts, jewels, second homes and art collections are not at all required -- the best thing to drop your cash on is experiences and doing is better than having and in other words, an object you own will never give you the consistent pleasure of an experience that creates good memories that live on forever -- also the best experiences are the ones that involve other people like having a picnic with family, going rafting with pals, or even just walking and talking with an exercise buddy

Page 25: Freshen Your Fridge -- make a clean start with this 5-step plan

Page 26: Tony's Mystic World -- may the force be with you -- the life force can be drained out of you by fear or worry

Page 28: Sensational Snaps From Around the World -- photo contest captures amazing sights

Page 31: When to trash it -- the useful lifespan of refrigerated food

Page 32: It's been 40 years since Marilu Henner starred on the hit sitcom Taxi, but the great memories and wonderful co-stars are always on her mind because she's still pals with them -- they always stayed in touch with each other and never lost touch and do a Taxi Zoom every two months and they're all very current with each other and they have a text chain as well and they're in contact every week -- Marilu is close with cast members Tony Danza, Judd Hirsch, Danny DeVito, Christopher Lloyd and Carol Kane

Page 33: Garth Brooks is overjoyed wife Trisha Yearwood has finally bounced back from her bout with COVID-19 -- she seems to be 100 percent, according to Garth, and at the end there during fatigue she got real impatient, really kind of mean and sassy and he thought well, she's back to herself -- after announcing in February that Trisha had the coronavirus and Garth said he had tested negative

Page 40: The grass is always greener when you use these simple gardening tips

* Avoid cat-astrophe -- the right way to add a stray

Page 42: 10 things you never knew about Glenn Close -- the wildly successful actress turned 74 in March

Page 44: Eyes on the Stars -- Sylvester Stallone and wife Jennifer Flavin leave a Florida hotel (picture), Jane Seymour is still looking on the bright side even as the world continues to weather the pandemic, one year after the death of Kenny Rogers his family thanked fans as they honored his life, Sharon Stone is dishing dirt about her Hollywood past in her recently released memoir like one moviemaker who told her to have sex with a male co-star to improve their on-screen chemistry, 28-year-old twins Lady Amelia and Lady Eliza Spencer who are the nieces of Princess Diana recently stepped out in South Africa as bridesmaids for fellow high society girl Leila Osato, director Christopher Columbus pooh-poohed internet rumors about the existence of an NC-17 cut of Mrs. Doubtfire but he did confirm there's an unreleased R-rated version

Page 45: Good Morning America co-host Cecilia Vega mugs it up for the camera on the morning show (picture), Gretta Monahan gets out of a car (picture), longtime GMA veteran Robin Roberts displays her ever-present sunny side on the set (picture), the Hollywood Hills home of Johnny Depp recently had some uninvited guests when a man was spotted loitering by the property's pool but ran off after being confronted by a neighbor and not much later Johnny's security team called police about another unwanted visitor who had taken a shower and helped himself to the actor's booze, Elsa Pataky has been married to Chris Hemsworth for 10 years and says patience and communication and understanding are what help their relationship be successful

Page 46: A Texas man has helped thousands of people by donating his blood platelets a staggering 962 times over the past 37 years

Page 47: Celebrity Weddings Gone Wrong -- Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively, Cameron Diaz and Benji Madden, Nicky Hilton and James Rothschild, Chrissy Teigen and John Legend, Jessica Simpson and Eric Johnson, Freddie Prinze Jr. and Sarah Michelle Gellar, Katherine Heigl and Josh Kelley

[cycwrites]

Switching Gears Part 3 - Karaoke Innuendos

Words: 4250

Rating: M (Eventually. I think.)

Also on AO3 and FFN

Tumblr Master Post

As always, thanks to @tiny-maus-boots for all the Beta’ing and support. I literally could do none of this without you.

Special thanks to @zentamaus & @isthemusictoblame for putting up with my random bouts of insecurity in the middle of the night.

----------------------------

~A~

Aubrey pushed her bike through the door to Beca’s shop, grumbling to herself.

“Chain or bell?”

The amusement in Beca’s voice was clear and Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I could just be coming to say hello.”

“True.” Beca nodded from where she was leaning against the counter in the back. “But you look pissed and it’s been over two weeks since you needed a chain – so my guess is bell.” She made a show of peering at Aubrey’s handlebars as she got close and nodded. “Looks like I’d be right.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Aubrey parked the bike beside the counter and huffed out a breath as she took off her helmet and hung it from a handle. “Fine. Bell.”

“I’m going to start ordering them in bulk at this rate.” Beca pushed herself up on the counter and pulled up her legs to swing around and land behind it. She rummaged on a shelf for a second before pulling out a new bell and setting it between them. “Or you could just… stop replacing it?”

“And let her win?” Aubrey snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“And what… exactly… would she be winning?” Beca leaned her elbow on the counter and propped her chin on her hand. “Is there a prize?”

“The war, Beca.” Aubrey shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh I understand,” Beca said as she straightened up again. “I understand you’re both insane and I haven’t even met the other woman.” Beca frowned and Aubrey returned it reflexively. “Have you even laid eyes on her since that first day?”

“No.” Aubrey dug her thin card holder from its place in her bra. “But I don’t need to. She keeps parking in my spot.”

“You’re hopeless.” Beca pushed away the debit card Aubrey tried to hand her. “And while the businesswoman in me says to take your money, your friend can’t do it anymore.” She grabbed the bell and walked around it to Aubrey’s bike. “Except the chain and lock. If you insist on throwing the nice ones away, I’m going to charge you for it.” She stripped the bell of its packaging as she walked. “I should order you some cheap pieces of crap I wouldn’t normally sully my shelves with so you can stop losing your main.”

Aubrey watched as Beca quickly affixed the bell in just the right spot. “Thanks, Beca.” She knew it was silly and probably (definitely) childish – and let’s not forget petty – but the fact that the woman kept parking in her spot triggered Aubrey in a way she couldn’t explain.

“You’ll just have to buy me an extra drink at karaoke.” Beca gave the bell a ring and winced. “I still have no idea why you like this thing.”

“My dad got me one as a kid.” Aubrey shrugged. “When I finally rode it without the training wheels, he put it on so I could warn people.” She smiled at the memory. “I may have almost run over the neighbor’s yappy dog once because I was a speed demon.”

“Alright, I can get behind nostalgia and that explains spin class.” Beca frowned as she looked around the shop. “Is Lilly even in today?” Before Aubrey could answer Beca shrugged. “Eh, I’m the owner; I can close a little early if I want to.” She looked at Aubrey. “Can you turn off the open sign and lock the door while I count down the register and lock away the moolah?”

“No one but mobsters say moolah, Beca.” Aubrey laughed as she walked toward the front of the room.

“Oh yeah? Know a lot of mobsters, do you?” Beca said as she popped open the cash drawer. “Is there a secret life of yours I don’t know about?”

“Maybe.” Aubrey turned off the sign and double checked that no one was walking up before she locked the door. Beca snorted behind her. “You don’t know. Besides, I would rock a three piece suit.” She walked back toward Beca who had paused, eyeing her.

“I was going to make a sarcastic comment but sheer honesty forces me to admit you would in fact rock a three piece suit.” Beca’s head tilted to the side. “Would that make me your driver?”

“Thank you.” Aubrey said crisply then grinned. “Probably my right hand gal.” Aubrey leaned on the counter. “Jack of all trades type.”

“I dig it.” Beca grabbed a calculator and a notepad. “You need a moll.”

“I do?” Aubrey considered. “I suppose every good mobster should a pretty woman with brains on their arm.” One brow arched. “Are you volunteering?”

“Please. I’m much better as your jack of all trades.” Beca shook her head. “I was more thinking Chloe.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes. “I should’ve seen that coming. I’ve told you, that ship has sailed.”

“Then the only other woman I’ve seen you get remotely flustered over is the enemy.” Beca began to count the money in her till. “Now shut up and don’t start saying numbers like you did last time.”

“Me?” Aubrey blinked innocently. “I would never. Also, there’s no way the bell thief could be my girl.”

“Mmhmm. Seems to me a thief would be a perfect girl for a mobster.” Beca said, writing down totals. “But whatever you say, Aubrey. I might even believe you if you didn’t get red cheeked whenever you talk about her.”

Aubrey gasped. “I do not!” She rubbed at her cheeks before she realized what she was doing. “That’s anger, Beca. Not… whatever you’re implying.”

Beca looked at Aubrey out of the corner of her eye. “You do realize that every denial you give me only makes me think I’m right and you’ve got a serious crush on your nemesis despite only seeing her the one time.”

“Then you’re clearly deluded.” Aubrey pushed off the counter and walked down one of the aisles.

“Clearly,” Beca muttered behind her. “Now stop distracting me.”

“Then stop baiting me.” Aubrey shot back.

They spent the next ten minutes in companionable silence as Beca checked her numbers twice before finally putting the money in a lockable pouch which then went in her safe.  Aubrey wheeled her bike to the front of the store and waited.

“Alright.” Beca turned off the lights. “Time to go.” She waved Aubrey out the door before setting her security system. “No peeking.”

“Like I couldn’t figure out your code if I really wanted to.” Aubrey pulled on her helmet.

Beca locked the door behind her. “Alright, let’s go channel some of that anger elsewhere and go get you hopped up on your Ladies of the 80’s.”

“I’ll have you know I also enjoy songs from the 90’s.” Aubrey swung her leg over her bike.

“That’s still nothing from this century.” Beca said, pulling on her own helmet.

“Shut up and get on the package carrier, hobbit. Or do you need me to lift you up?” Aubrey said dryly.

“You’re going to pay for that, Posen.” Beca climbed onto the back of Aubrey’s bike and gripped her waist. “Just you wait.”

“My father is military, Beca. I’ll always see you comin’.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Beca patted her hip. “Now mush!”

“Did you just call me a bitch?” Aubrey said as she began to pedal down the sidewalk with Beca’s laughter filling the early evening air behind them.

The ride to the L&L was relatively short, only a mile and a half away from Beca’s shop. Lyrics & Libations was a karaoke bar owned by two of Beca’s friends who had, eventually, adopted Aubrey as one of their own. Beca had dragged her in the second she found out Aubrey could sing and the two of them had a standing table reservation every Friday night.

Once Aubrey had stopped her bike, Beca hopped off the back and took off her helmet. She ran her hand through her hair. “I hate these things.”

“Helmet hair is a small price to pay for keeping your brains inside your skull, Beca.” Aubrey walked over to an afterthought bike rack that had been added to the sidewalk and secured her bike to it. Though it was big enough for three bikes, Aubrey had never seen anyone else use it.

“It’s not just that. It makes my head sweaty.” Beca preceded her to the door and opened it. “Especially on warm days like today.”

“Thank you,” Aubrey said, taking off her own helmet as she walked into the L&L. Beca had a point, the cool air conditioning felt good after all the pedaling. “Hello Cynthia Rose.” She hugged the beautiful black woman lounging on the stool by the door. “Had to throw anyone out today?”

The deceptively short bouncer laughed. “Not today but the night’s still young, Aubrey!” She looked past her to Beca. “Shorty.” She held out her hand.

“CR.” Beca eyed it. “You’re not seriously trying to card us, are you?”

“Please. I know better. Even if you still look fifteen.” Cynthia Rose rolled her eyes. “Gimme five.”

“Dollars?” Beca grinned at her. “Since when did you start charging covers on non-band nights?”

“Oh.” Cynthia Rose dropped her hand. “I see. We only charge those that are trying to be a smart ass.”  She clicked her tongue. “So you’re probably going to be poor before too long.”

“Don’t push her, Beca.” Aubrey moved to stand next to Cynthia Rose. “She’ll chuck you out like she did that college guy last month.” He hadn’t believed someone as short as Cynthia Rose could subdue him physically much less toss him out on his ass. Until said ass had hit the pavement and the door had closed behind him.

“Alright alright.” Beca held up her hand. “I’m sorry.” She held up her fist. “Hit me.”

“I oughta hit you.” Cynthia Rose muttered but gave Beca a fist bump. “You guys are early tonight.”

“I didn’t feel like working till closing.” Beca shrugged. “Don’t think Lilly was in to close, so I just locked up.”

“’You don’t think’?” Cynthia Rose snorted. “What if you locked her in there?”

“She’s got a key and the code.” Beca shrugged. “Come find us on your break, we’ll buy you a shot or two.”

“Deal.” Cynthia Rose looked toward the door as it creaked behind them. “Now get your ass out of my doorway so I can greet these nice folks behind you.” She winked at Aubrey. “See you in a bit, Posen.”

“Look forward to it.” Aubrey smiled at her and pushed Beca ahead of her into the main room. “You want me to get the first round?”

Beca shook her head. “Nah, I’m going to take advantage of the round you owe me when you’re too drunk to realize I’m ordering the good stuff.” Holding out her hand, she continued. “Gimme your helmet and I’ll have the girls stow them for us.”

“Thanks, Beca.” Aubrey handed it over with a smile. Making her way to the table at the right corner of the stage, Aubrey took the seat that put her back to the wall. Shrugging off her small backpack she dug around in it until she found her brush. Taking out the hair tie holding her long hair into a loose ponytail she ran the brush through it.

“Grooming?”

Aubrey ignored Beca and continued getting out the tangles that her helmet had caused. “You know you want to use it.”

“Maybe.” Beca set down a small tray that held two glasses of water and two bottles of beer. “I’ll be back, Jess made me promise to bring the tray right back.”

Setting the brush on the table, Aubrey picked up one of the bottles. “Okay.” She took a drink. “I’ll be here.” She waited until Beca had turned around and started back toward the bar. “Drinking your beer.”

“Woman…” Beca threatened. “Don’t you dare.”

“Better hurry.” Aubrey settled back in her seat with a grin, already trying to decide what they were going to sing tonight. She eyed the room, nodding at some regulars.

“Your turn.” Beca said, dropping into the seat to her left. “I’ve already got your first song down.”

“That was quick.” Aubrey eyed the two new bottles of beer that had appeared on the table. “You really thought I’d drink yours?”

“Yes.” Beca said, carefully pulling two of the bottles in front of her. “Like you haven’t before.” She picked up Aubrey’s brush and ran it through her hair.

“True.” Aubrey shrugged and stood. “I’ll be back.”

Taking the first bottle with her, Aubrey made her way to the end of the bar, patiently waiting as other people put down song choices.

“Hey Aubrey!” The brunette in charge of the song list smiled at her. “Beca giving you any of those beers?”

“Hello Ashley.” Aubrey held up her bottle. “At least one of them.” She stepped up to the bar and opened the giant binder of songs. “Am I going to like what she picked for me?”

“Maybe?” Ashley shrugged and grinned at her. “You know I can’t tell you.” In fact the top half of the paper had been hastily covered with a napkin so that Aubrey couldn’t see what had been written down.

“True.” Aubrey took a drink of her beer and pursed her lips. “Guess I’ll have to get her from the start.”

“That’s my girl.” Ashley held out the pen. “Can’t give that one an inch.”

“Bree!”

Taking the pen, Aubrey looked up as a blonde head appeared over Ashley’s shoulder. “Hi Jessica. Looks like they’re keeping you busy over there.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Jessica rested her chin on Ashley’s shoulder. “Denise will be here soon.”

Aubrey wrote Beca’s name on the sheet sitting on the bar, followed by her song. “You guys still on for the group song later?”

“Are you kidding?” Ashley laughed. “Jess has been practicing all week.” She kissed the side of her girlfriend’s head. “Now go pour those nice people some drinks and make mama some money.”

“Yes dear,” Jessica waved at Aubrey. “I’ll come say hi in a bit.” She went back to the other end of the bar, already greeting the people waiting for her.

“See you.” Aubrey called after her. “Thanks, Ash.” She pushed the paper back across the bar.

Ashley looked at the song and laughed. “No no, thank you.”

“You know she secretly loves it.” Aubrey said as she turned.

“You look too pleased with yourself.” Beca said as Aubrey sat back down.

“Just said hi to the girls.” Aubrey went to take another drink and found the bottle empty. “Oops. Guess I should’ve left that up there.” She set it down and picked up the other. “Thanks for thinking ahead.”

“You’ve been looking… thirsty lately.” Beca said.

“Oh for the love of…” Aubrey shook her head. “I am not thirsty Beca.”

“Mmm. Sure.” Beca laughed and ducked the napkin Aubrey threw at her.

“You are the worst,” she groaned.

“You mean the best.” Beca said airily. “Now hush, things are starting.”

Laughing, Aubrey settled down and watched the first person take the stage.

As former college championship winning a capella singers, Jessica and Ashley seemed to attract a higher level of karaoke aficionados to the L&L. Rarely did you get someone who was off-key – at least not intentionally. Aubrey herself wasn’t above singing something badly for effect. But tonight everyone was on point and she was enjoying herself so much she’d almost forgotten that she’d be going up soon.

“Aubrey, you’re up.”

She looked up, startled as Ashley called her name. “Oh, right.”

“Have fun,” Beca said as Aubrey stood up.

“Should I be afraid?” Aubrey stepped up on the stage and took the microphone off the stand.

“Always, Bree.” Beca nodded. “Always.”

Aubrey narrowed her eyes then looked at the monitor as the opening notes of ‘Call Me Maybe’ started. She allowed herself one moment of annoyance, because while she did like the song she knew why Beca was making her sing it. But she was Aubrey Posen and she never backed away from anything in her life. She would sell the shit out of this. By the end of it the room was singing along with her and Aubrey waved after she put the mic back on the stand. She went back to her table and took her seat.

��Nicely done, Posen.” Beca held out a fresh beer.

“Thank you.” Aubrey took it and took a long drink. “I think I sense a theme for the night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Beca took a drink of her own.

Instead of answering, Aubrey merely turned back to the stage as the next person stepped up. Even as she clapped and sang with the next songs, she was busily trying to figure out how to get even.

When Beca saw the song Aubrey had picked, she groaned. “Not this song, Bree. It’s so overplayed.”

“Shut up and sing, Mitchell.” Aubrey grinned.

Beca put on her Resting Bitch Face and her whiniest voice for the start of ‘TiK ToK’ but by the chorus she’d given in and was bouncing around the stage to the cheers of the crowd. When she’d finally taken her chair again Aubrey pushed her shoulder.

“You’re no longer allowed to tell me you hate Kesha. I know it’s a lie and so does everyone else who saw you just now.”

“Yeah yeah.” Beca took a drink of her beer as she tried to catch her breath.

The rest of the night continued in much the same pattern.

Beca made Aubrey sing Avril Lavigne’s ‘Girlfriend’ and Sophie B. Hawkins’ ‘Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover’ while Aubrey had made her sing Meredith Brook’s ‘Bitch’ and ‘When I Grow Up’ by Garbage. Not that either of those songs were ones that Beca wouldn’t enjoy but at this point Aubrey was just trying to use the titles to make a point – no matter how obscure. There was a brief truce as they sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with Jessica and Ashley, almost causing a riot when they bowed out of doing an encore.

Aubrey debated on the last song, but there just weren’t enough casual-insults-between-friends songs that she felt were appropriate. She’d been looking through P!nk’s song list, discarding ‘Trouble’, though appropriate, and ‘Blow Me (One Last Kiss)’ before deciding to just pick a fun song to end the night on: ‘Raise Your Glass.’

Beca, however, had other ideas.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Aubrey laughed as ‘I Touch Myself’ by the Divinyls started.

“Hey, it’s from the ‘90’s!” Beca called from the table.

I love myself, I want you to love me When I feel down, I want you above me I search myself, I want you to find me I forget myself, I want you to remind me

A plan was slowly forming in her mind and she worked the stage but kept her eyes directly on Beca as she sang. Then she left the stage and slunk toward Beca, whose eyes were getting wider the closer Aubrey got. And the quieter, more intimate her singing became.

I close my eyes and see you before me Think I would die if you were to ignore me A fool could see just how much I adore you I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you

Aubrey stepped behind Beca, her fingertips running from one shoulder to the other across her back. She resisted the impulse to laugh when she felt Beca shiver.

I don't want anybody else When I think about you, I touch myself Ooh, I don't want anybody else Oh no, oh no, oh no

She continued moving around until she could drape herself across Beca’s lap, noticing how Beca flushed instantly, a nice, deep red going all the way down under her collar.

I want you I don't want anybody else When I think about you, I touch myself Ooh ooh ooh ooh ah ah ah ah oh ah

She crooned into Beca’s ear, much softer than the song called for and traced the spike that ran through the lobe. Beca’s sudden indrawn breath was audible through the microphone and now Aubrey let the smile free as she slid from Beca’s lap and strutted back to the stage to finish it. As the song drew to a close she took a bow as whistles filled the room. Ashley came up and took the microphone from her, smirking.

“And that’s the last song for the night. Thank you all for a great night of music and we hope to see you again soon!” Turning off the mic she placed it back in the stand and turned to Aubrey. “I think you killed her.”

Aubrey shrugged. “She started it.”

“Agreed.” Ashley pushed her toward the table. “Go sit while we clear everyone out. I need a drink with my friends.”

“Like I’d say no to that.” Aubrey laughed and went back to the table where Beca was steadily draining the last of her beer.

“Nice song choice, Mitchell.” Aubrey leaned back in her chair.

“I’ll never make that mistake again,” she vowed. “You win.”

“A Posen always wins.” Aubrey laughed. “You really did bring it on yourself.”

“Yup. I see that now.” Beca drummed her fingers on the table. “You’re a very wicked woman, Aubrey.”

“When the situation calls for it.” Aubrey shrugged. “Ashley told us to hang out while everyone leaves.”

“’Kay.” Beca’s face was deliberately neutral and Aubrey wondered what was going on behind eyes that were not-so-casually avoiding looking at her.

The two of them sat in silence, not uncomfortable but Aubrey could almost hear Beca thinking as the seconds ticked by. Even Aubrey could admit that what she’d done had some effect on her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten that close to someone; Beca’s riding behind her on the bike didn’t count. But this was her best friend and Aubrey didn’t think of her that way.

At least… not until now. Maybe Beca was right and Aubrey really just needed to get laid.

“So, is there something going on between you two that we don’t know about?” Jessica interrupted her thoughts as she, Ashley, Denise and Cynthia Rose approached the table.

“Nope.” Aubrey smiled innocently. “Just singing songs.”

“No.” Beca confirmed. “Aubrey likes her brunettes taller, apparently.”

Cynthia Rose set down the bottle of vodka she’d brought over. “Are we still talking about the chick that Aubrey’s having some bike war with?”

“That’s the one.” Beca waited as the four of them pulled over chairs and Ashley set down the stack of shot glasses she was carrying.

“Beca.” Aubrey sighed. “For the last time. I don’t even know if she likes women.”

Jessica carefully poured shots for all of them. “You know, the way you said that, it makes me think you’re interested in finding out.”

“Thank you!” Beca picked up her glass. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.”

Aubrey scowled and picked up her own shot and downed it. “That is not what I meant. At all.”

Except maybe it was, because her memory of that day had changed. She no longer thought of it with anger and even now she was only triggered by seeing That Bike in her spot. But… she sort of wished she remembered more of what the other woman looked like because in memory her voice was nice and the annoyingly vague impression she had was someone who was pretty. Plus, despite it all… she had called Aubrey cute. Sort of.

“I mean, it sounds like that’s what you meant.” Denise threw back her shot. “Like, you’re personally interested in finding out if she likes women or not.”

“You didn’t even know if Chloe liked women when you told me you were thinking of asking her out,” Beca pointed out. “So why is this one different?”

“She’s an insufferable woman who keeps stealing the bell off my bike. I couldn’t care less if she likes women.” Aubrey set her glass down and picked up the bottle to pour another. “And you can all fuck off.”

“Now look who’s getting uppity.” Cynthia Rose shook her head. “You know what they say ‘bout protesting too much.”

“Can we please talk about anything else?” Aubrey closed her eyes. “Did you guys give Beca this much crap over that DSM woman?”

“Aub...” Beca held up her hand.

“Wait – what about the blonde German goddess… exactly?” Ashley leaned forward. “Have you been holding out on us, Beca?”

“Thanks, Aubrey.” Beca picked up the vodka and ignored the shot glass, taking a drink directly from the bottle.

Aubrey smiled sweetly at her. “You’re welcome.”

Jessica held up two fingers. “First, I can’t believe either of you didn’t tell us whatever you’re about to reveal sooner.” She folded her middle finger and pointed at Beca who snorted. “Second, that’s gross and now you have to buy the whole bottle.”

“There’s no story here.” Beca muttered and handled the bottle to Denise who took a swig. “You know I hate that woman.”

“See my previous statement about protesting too much…” Cynthia Rose turned to Aubrey. “Spill.”

Aubrey leaned back in her chair. “Well... Beca thinks her sweat smells like cinnamon…” Beca just groaned and let her forehead rest on the table.  Aubrey smiled as the rest of the girls begged for more details.  Maybe now Beca would let the whole ‘you’re into the aggravating gym woman’ thing drop.

Because Aubrey had a sneaking suspicion she might be right. And that was definitely not allowed.

[stark-web-warriors]

Stark Contrast [CHAPTER TWO]

Masterlist | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word count: 7464

Warnings: Swearing, Threat of NC (but no NC)

Chapter Summary: Y/N goes to the Back-To-School party with Peter to meet up with Ned and MJ and ends up meeting the members of Pai’s club, MISA when things turn for the worst.

A/N: So I’ve been working diligently and am getting Chapter Two out early!!! I’m so excited for Chapter 3 y’all have no idea! So as I was writing this I saw several of y’all comment about how wholesome it was and I was like —am I gonna ruin it? But this has been the story from the start and I’m so glad to see it taking to life. If you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, Inbox me and I‘ll add your username. Members of the tag list MUST reblog. I look forward to your feedback, friends!

Chapter Two

The one condition Tony insisted on was that Peter Parker must go to the party with Y/N. It was embarrassing, to say the least, when the man called Peter’s Aunt May to make sure of that. So here Y/N was, sitting in her running Audi as the rain came down and made the empty street gleam navy. She leaned over to try to peak out the passenger window for any sign of the boy coming out of the apartment complex. She was anxious and growing self-conscious in her new outfit and how much of her body it exposed. That was Tony’s compromise. Y/N could miss their “bonding time” and go to the party instead, but Tony would help her get ready for the party, and the man knew parties.

After school Thursday he took Y/N to a fancy store she’d never heard of where the price tags didn’t dip below $500, which was probably why she’d never heard of it. The moment they walked in two women, who looked like they’d probably been supermodels in their younger days, hurried to assist. One led Tony away and sat him down on a chaise lounge by the fitting room with a cold glass of sparkling water. The other whisked Y/N away toward the clothing in the boutique, speaking about what they were looking for as if she were going to the red carpet. It was all very overwhelming at first, but Y/N caught a glance at a mesh shirt she liked. It was simple and looked like her style which made her comfortable. The woman was very nice when Y/N pulled it out and brought a black bralette and classic pair of black skinny jeans to match, as well as a silver chained purse and matching belt to accessorize. It was nice to know that she was willing to let Y/N make decisions for herself and still it was strange when she knew how to make that decision better. The whole “accessorizing” thing wasn’t anything Y/N had entertained much before, and she never thought of a belt as anything more than a tool and a purse a pocket-extender. Still, she put the ensemble on behind the lavender curtain for the changing room and slid it open to reveal Tony ready to approve or disapprove.

He choked on his water and sputtered, “Absolutely not,” the moment he caught a glimpse. The shop assistant rushed toward Tony as he coughed, but he held up a hand to hold her off and stood up. “That is too risqué and I can’t allow you to go out in public in that.”

“I mean, when you think about it, you saying that is like saying that I, a minor, should be sexualized, and if I wear revealing clothing it’s my fault if a man sexualizes me, and is that really the message you want to send your only daughter?” Y/N rambled, knowing Tony well enough to know he’d see right through the speech, but would also appreciate the effort.

“Why don’t you go ahead and run that,” Tony said to the supermodel who had styled Y/N, handing her his gold card and walking toward Y/N.

“I thought you said it was too risqué?” Y/N mocked as the man stepped up to her. “What do you even think is gonna happen at a party jam-packed with a hundred teenagers?” The girl asked, trying to give a more justified reason for her to have the outfit that she’d grown so attached to in a matter of minutes.

“You happened, didn’t you?” Tony quipped.

Y/N smiled at how much she appreciated this version of parental interaction. He was parent enough to take responsibility and care, but he was childish enough to be satisfied dissing the teen and then giving her the benefit of the doubt. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. It was a fun experience, even if it was weird, and she appreciated the bonding time.

Y/N was uncomfortably adjusting the mesh top when Peter hurriedly opened the passenger door and climbed in. He began to apologize as he buckled in, “Sorry I’m lat-Holy fuck.” The boy hadn’t really changed in demeanor but lost his thoughts when he looked at Y/N clad in all black. “You look like a million bucks. Like, I mean, actually. Is that a Coach bag? Aren’t those things like a thousand dollars each?” Y/N giggle at Peter’s innocent surprise. He seemed more shocked by the branding than the serious skin Y/N was sporting, and it was relieving.

“Tony wanted to take me to this one fancy boutique,” Y/N explained with a giggle as she shifted into drive.

“Okay yeah, okay, that makes sense, yeah,” Peter mumbled to himself as they drove off into the neighbourhood.

“Are you nervous, Peter?” Y/N inquired, glancing away from the street to peek at the panicked boy. “I mean, I’m no party expert or anything, but what’s the worst case scenario, someone double dips in the guac?”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Peter trailed off. He clearly didn’t really want to share too much. “The last time I was at a school party, something bad happened and I had to leave very suddenly, and I was already worried about something like that happening again, and now its like, I get in and you look super hot, and I mean, I’m not into you like that or anything, like we just met, but-“

Y/n laughed, “Peter!” Anything to get the boy to stop spiralling off into infinity. “I’m flattered that as my friend you think I look bitchin’ and if anything happens, it’s okay. You can find me and I can drive you home right away.”

“It’s not-“ For the first time, Peter paused to take a breath and rephrase, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“You know you don’t have to be so jittery around me,” Y/N insisted. “Clearly you’re good at communicating or you wouldn’t be Tony’s intern, or have such good friends. Don’t be a rambling mess around me. I want a friend, too.” Y/N saw a large amount of cars parked on the street and heard the loud bass of the music pumping down the street and decided it best to park where she was at the end of the block, where she had room. She moved the gear shift into park and looked at the seemingly calmer boy beside her.

“I’m sorry. I have a lot of responsibilities and I still try very hard to have a personal life and you make me nervous because you're kind of really close to both realms. Like, you’re the center of the Venn-diagram, and it makes me worry that the space between is getting smaller, and I’m not ready for that yet,” Peter explained calmly, finally holding his composure.

“Thank you,” Y/N sighed. “I’m glad you told me that… AND we still barely know each other. Everything you’re afraid of hasn’t happened yet. Can we please cross that bridge when it actually starts experiencing structural integrity wearing and needs maintenance?”

“That was a very specific metaphor,” Peter commented, making the young girl smile and push her way out of the car into the barely-there rain. As expected, Peter followed suit, and the two walked in the front door with their dignity fully stocked.

The moment they opened to door it was absolute fucking chaos. The music was booming, the voices were blaring, heat rushed out to be released into the night for only a moment before the door closed behind Peter and Y/N. The two teens felt lost for a moment looking at all the sweaty high schoolers crammed into one house, albeit very large. Peter spotted Ned and MJ leaning against a wall in the corner and began navigating Y/N through the crowd toward them. Of course, this entailed him getting cut off by someone and consequentially Y/N stumbling into Peter’s back. Miraculously, however, they managed to cross to the corner Ned and MJ were taking cover in.

“It’s very loud,” Y/N yelled, unsure how she was supposed to make friends over the sound. She glanced around nervously, wondering what she’d gotten herself into.

“You look hot,” MJ shouted back, nonchalantly as she gave a cool backwards nod. Y/N was thrilled to have MJ’s approval, and still, she smiled at her shuffling feet insecurely.

Finally, Ned mentioned, “It’s quieter out by the pool,” before leading the group away to the back yard. This, of course, involved travelling through the dense crowd around the DJ stand, which all but blasted their ears off, but it was worth it. They travelled to the far side of the strangely shaped swimming pool. It was lit up for the night, making the entire backyard light up with an aqua glow. It was clear why there were so few people outside. It had just rained, everything was damp, the pool had some stray leaves floating in it. It wasn’t exactly party central, and that felt just perfect to the group of misfits.

“I can’t believe they’re letting Flash DJ again,” MJ complained, kicking a nearby branch into the pool for no apparent reason outside of impulse.

“Because of what he did to Peter last year,” Ned agreed solemnly with a sad nod, only to be immediately contradicted by the tiny girl beside him.

“No, because he’s a crappy DJ,” MJ groaned inconsiderately. She was a confusing person who never quite did what you expected of her. Before the conversation could continue, she’d plopped down on the cement and was wading her feet in the pool, converse and all.

One thing stuck in Y/N’s mind that she really wanted the answer to. “What did Flash do to you, Peter?” the teen inquired concernedly. As far as she knew, Flash was just some smart guy in a couple of her classes. She didn’t have the social context to think anything ill of him, and the hint made her apprehensive for a number of reasons.

Before Peter could respond, Pai was running up exclaiming, “You’re here!” before wrapping her arms around a very stunned and rigid Y/N. It was weird how silky the girl's hair was falling off of Y/N’s shoulders, and she wasn’t quite sure how to engage in this fake-y femme behavior. She’d seen girls do this with each other—the high pitched squeak, the hug, the small talk, and then they would finally admit what they wanted—It wasn’t anything she’d ever encountered herself. Awkwardly, Y/N tried to hug back but wasn’t sure how to do it without tearing out that impossibly slick and long hair. “I’m so glad you could make it. You know, Liz used to throw this bash, but she had to move last year because her dad went to jail. So sad,” Pai put forth a small pouty face, clearly not stopping to think about the fact that Y/N didn’t have the first clue who Liz was. “Hey, Peter. Ned,” the bubbly girl greeted, looking across the group to find MJ on the ground. “Michelle, you’re gonna get your shoes wet!” Pai warned with a wave of a hand and a smile, causing MJ to shake her head and look up confusedly, then turn to look at the oblivious girl with a face that begged how she even missed that point. “Anyway, Y/N, there’s someone I wanted to introduce you to,” the skinny girl explained as she slid a boney arm under Y/N’s and began dragging the girl away. Y/N looked back at the group, trying to make an apologetic face as Pai continued, “His name is Amadeus Cho and he’s the president of MISA. Korean guy. Super smart and super hot. He’s the host of the party this year. Anyway, he wanted to meet you and so I told him I’d introduce you two.”

Y/N sighed. While she wasn’t used to the girl-y social behavior, she could tell Pai’s heart was in the right place. She was just trying to help Y/N make a new friend, and that was sweet, even if it did entail dragging the helpless girl back toward the daunting house. Pai led Y/N through the large crowd of the party and around the corner where she’d previously been with Peter, Ned, and MJ to a flight of carpeted stairs, briefly mentioning, “Some of us are hanging out upstairs to get away from everything,” before pulling Y/N all the way up and into what appeared to be a second living space. There was a kitchenette on the back wall, and in the center of the room was a floor pit with some modern art-looking furniture. A white couch and chair of oblong shape cornered around a purple rug on a black tile floor. The whole place looked so rich, and Y/N worried when she caught the judgmental eyes of the 5 teens scattered across it. There was a girl sitting on the purple rug going through magazines, one guy bringing a bowl of chips over from the kitchenette, which seemed strange at a party where there was literally a kitchen full of food set out downstairs, there were two teens laying on the couch together, cuddly enough for Y/N to assume they were a couple, and finally, there was the only person who could have been Cho, sitting on the artistic white chair like it was a goddamn throne. Y/N felt so far out of her element all she could do was follow Pai’s lead.

“Y/N. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Amadeus Cho,” the composed boy offered a hand.

“Oh really? So people actually call you by your first and last name, that is to say you go by your full name,” Y/N could hear Peter’s rambling coming out her mouth as she shook the kid’s hand, and quickly pulled away, stopping herself while trying to recover with a string of, “Cool, cool, cool. Very cool. That’s very cool that you do that.” She wanted to facepalm her head back into the womb at the way she was acting.

Amadeus looked at Y/N strangely, and with the subtly of a K-Pop star, and elected to ignore her stance behavior in favor of introducing his friends. “This is Mercedes,” he gestured to the girl sitting on the rug. The girl who waved was fashionably dressed in a bright cyan that complimented her dark, pigmented skin tone. Her hair was bleached blonde and clearly had spent a couple of hours in the flat iron. Her outfit was gaudy, but modest, which made Y/N miss the likes of Peter and MJ who, although very awkwardly, made her feel killer to wear it. “On the couch is Sam and Noah. They’ll probably be too infatuated with each other all night to notice you’re here, so you can pretty much ignore them,” While this sounded like a jab the boys would be offended by, they didn’t so much as wince, which was odd, but Y/N shrugged and took a seat next to Pai on the raised floor, dangling her feet into the floor pit. “I’m Aleksi, by the way,” the last boy in the studious glasses introduced himself bitterly as he returned with the bowl of chips and joined Mercedes on the floor.

“So word on the street is that you’re Tony Stark’s daughter,” Cho implied as he leaned forward in his chair to his half-open hands like he was Sherlock Holmes. The motion pulled down his sleeve just enough to reveal a very expensive looking silver watch.

In her discomfort, Y/N’s sarcastic side immediately responded, “Oh really? Because I thought it was pretty well hidden…”

“Hey, hey,” Amadeus slowly held his hands up in surrender, “if you don’t want to talk about it you’re in the right place. Unlike the party animals downstairs, most of us up here are the members of MISA. That is to say, we understand sharing only what of your background you’re comfortable with revealing.” He smiled like a fucking romantic interest in a K-Drama, and Y/N couldn’t tell if she found it charming or it made her want to punch him in his perfect teeth. Clearly, he thought of himself as elite, and she could see why, but being oblivious didn’t make him a bad person. He could be a charmer and still be a super nice considerate person, and she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“No, no,” Y/N began. “It’s just-” she caught a glimpse of how hopeful Pai looked introducing Y/N to her friends and felt her soften her resolve for the sake of the kind girl who’d been so nice to her since her first day. “I mean, it’s alright, I guess. There’s just not much to tell. I’m more interested in what you all are getting up to up here, anyway,” Y/N said in an attempt to change the subject.

“Mostly just hanging,” Mercedes responded casually, setting aside another magazine from the stack. Y/N was impressed by how easily she could handle the paper with the bejewelled stiletto nails the girl was sporting.

“What’s with the magazines?” Y/N asked. Her interest was peaked because even Steve Rogers didn’t mess around with paper magazines these days.

“Planning out a ransom note,” Mercedes mentioned nonchalantly as she flipped through another magazine. “On a completely unrelated note, do you spell Stark with one ‘R’ or two?” IT was such dead delivery Y/N wasn’t sure if she was really supposed to laugh at that joke until the stylish girl on the carpet glanced up with a playful smile. Y/N grinned back and let out what was more a huff of air than a laugh.

“Mercedes is trying to find an issue that features more than two races. She’s trying to make a point about whitewashing and how damaging it is when magazines will make sure to have their one ‘token black model’ and call it diversity,” Amadeus Cho explained, the cheeky smile still plastered to his face.

“I’m writing an opinion piece about the appalling lack of racial diversity because it’s always a line up of white people and then one person of a different race so it's 'not racist’,” Mercedes elaborated passionately. “Look around this room,” she gestured, “We’ve got at least 5 ethnicities at the same party. That not what the world looks like and they need to acknowledge that, and if they don’t my letter to the editor, I’m going to take that rejection letter and send it to their competitors to publish.”

This felt huge. This girl was proudly doing loud work of her own volition for a cause that would make it seem like a whisper. Mercedes was doing it anyway just to have a voice in her cause. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a mix of intimidation and inspiration. “That is honestly so cool,” Y/N admitted, earning a wink of Mercedes’s deep brown eye. The girl turned to the group excitedly and opened it up to the floor. “Anyone else have an obscenely awesome social project they’d like to tell me about?” 

“Amadeus Cho has one!” Pai piped up immediately. It was honestly sweet how much she wanted to be involved in the group, but it was also slightly hard to watch her trying to get approval from such intense people. The first day Y/N met Pavitra she had mentioned MISA and how much it felt good to have people of untraditional backgrounds to share the experience with, but she never seemed the type to chain herself to a pole for the sake of racism in America and that was okay. She was entitled to try to live her life as normalized as possible. It was so clear that Pai was working twice as hard, as a result, to feel included. It was sad because Y/N liked Pai. She thought Pavitra was a kind girl with a grounding in where she came from and ambitions that would fly her into another galaxy. So to see her trying to be involved by boasting her friends' success was conflicting.

“I’m working on a drone with reflective panelling that I can send into North Korea airspace to expose the absolute horrors that reside there,” Amadeus mentioned like it was yesterday’s math assignment, causing Y/N to drop her jaw. So he was a science guy with a social justice cause all packaged into the body of a member of BTS. She now understood why Pai was so infatuated with the guy. “I’m not done just yet, but I have it in my room along with some pictures from the test run if you’d like to see,” Cho offered.

“Oh my god, absolutely,” Y/N responded. She took Amadeus Cho’s hand and allowed him to lead her further away into the large house. By the time they reached to door frame, she felt miles away from the party going on downstairs. Cho led her into the dark and tidy bedroom, over to his desk, which was littered with parts, but right in the center was the shining glory of a genius mind. Y/N noticed a stack of photos printed out and stacked up on the left side of the drone and mindlessly picked them up and glanced through. They were all pictures of building that she couldn’t quite understand, but she was too intimidated to say that she didn’t know what they meant, so she set them back down and sat down on the nearby bed as Cho picked up the drone.

“She took a hit during the test run and needs some repairs, but the reflective panelling should still work if I just-” Amadeus forced way for a switch that was stuck and the thing disappeared, peaking Y/N’s interest. “Wanna see something cool?” Cho asked, earning a shy nod from Y/N. He flipped the drone so that the panels were facing away from him, and Y/N watched his torso visually disappear.

She furrowed her brows as she said, “The panels broadcast the signal of the room behind you as if you weren’t there. How do they do that?”

“Memory,” Amadeus explained as he placed the drone back on the desk and began walking toward where Y/N sat on the bed, “Think of it like Google Maps, but good. There are audio sensors that help it locate itself and it can tell where things are in a space as it correlates to a 3D rendering of the space. Every second it’s piecing together that map. It knows the wall is behind me, but I’m not supposed to be there, it knows that from its maps and the sensors, it can still tell that wall is behind me, so that’s what it projects.” The bed sank beside Y/N as the attractive teen took a seek so close she could feel the seam of his jeans brush her leg.

Y/N could feel her heart beating louder and faster, wondering if she was really okay with what this was leading to. “You seem very proud of yourself,” Y/N managed to tease nervously. She knew she wanted to maybe kiss him some, just some good old fashion dumb teenager acting out kind of thing.

Amadeus Cho leaned in close to Y/N’s ear and near-whispered, “Maybe I am.” His warm breath made her ear tingle as the boy pulled away with that sly smile.

Y/N looked up to Cho curiously. She wasn’t sure his endgame, but she had come to the conclusion that she wanted to play. Amadeus took a steady hand and brushed back Y/N’s hair. The cold of his watch roused her flesh as it brushed across the back of her neck. Their foreheads touched and Amadeus moved his face so that Y/N felt the tickle of their noses just barely touching. The next thing she knew, those beautiful lips were against hers. Before she knew it, Amadeus was leaning back onto the bed, and Y/N’s thirsty lips stayed attached to Cho as she leaned forward over him, desperate for the hydration. He began to massage her sides through the mesh shirt, grasping tighter and tighter as they continued. Y/N placed her fingers in his perfectly thick black hair as the boy beneath her trailed a hand up her back and onto her head. She felt a slight pressure at first, but then she felt a shove that left her looking at the boy's stomach. She knew she didn’t want to do that, and she wasn’t about to submit.

“Let’s just keep doing this,” Y/N suggested, placing a sensual kiss below the boy’s ear. He pulled her face right back in, smashing a violent kiss onto her lips. Cho carefully slid his hands up the back of Y/N’s Mesh shirt, tickling the exposed skin. His hands began fiddling with the bralette and Y/N immediately reached back to gently push his arms away, only to be ignored as he continued to play with the band of the bra. Her heart was beginning to flutter, and not in a good way. Y/N pulled away and embarrassedly but firmly told him, “Please don’t.” Amadeus nodded and smiled, pulling his hands out of the girl's shirt and showing them like he was trying to prove he wasn’t holding a weapon. Y/N took a deep breath to remind herself that he listened to what she said and didn’t push it any further before leaning her face back down to the beautiful boy laying below her. She was about to lean in for another kiss when she felt a powerful shove to the top of her head and found herself face to face with the budge in his jeans. “Okay, I thought I made it pretty clear I didn’t want to do that,” Y/N said, anger heating up quick, struggling to gain her ground as she continually sank into the marshmallowy mattress.

“Where are you going?” Cho investigated frantically as he pulled himself into a seated position once again.

Y/N finally managed to stand and trying to keep it together she stated curtly, “I’m going back to my friends-“

“Bitch!” The next thing Y/N new her forearm was burning with how tightly it had been gripped. 

“What the fuck?” Y/N screamed. Tugging at her arm was a mistake. It was a million pins and needles, like when kids used to give each other ‘snake bites’ on the playground. “Let go of me,” she mustered the lowest her voice could go.

“Why the fuck would you lead me on like that, huh?” Cho argued back, tightening his grip. “After all that you say you’re leaving, like hell you are.” Y/N struggled more, beginning to really panic, knowing that no one could hear the encounter over the party, that Amadeus was just getting more aggressive. An involuntary tear left her eye at the pain of a particularly hard tug on both their ends and suddenly at that moment he just let go. Y/N knew that should have been the moment she booked it out the door, but she was so confused by the behavior should couldn’t help freezing and looking at Cho, who was quite horrified and starring at the doorway.

“Y/N,” the scared girl spun her head around to see Peter Parker standing in the doorway with a hand held out. Peter took a hard swallow, and she could see he was uncomfortable with the situation, but still trying to help. “We’re going,” Peter told her seriously.

Y/N took a deep breath to compose herself and then casually strolled toward Peter as if nothing had happened, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her quickly down the stairs. When they got to the main floor, Flash at the DJ stand shouted, “Where are you going, Penis Parker? The party’s not over yet.” Peter didn’t so much as wince as he rushed Y/N out of the house and straight into the middle of the street, suddenly lit up by headlights. The car laid on the horn as Peter pushed Y/N out of the way, the two now huddling between two parked cars across the street from the party. The two hadn’t realized they were panting until it had already started slowing down.

“How did you even know I was up there?” Y/N asked. Peter huffed, out of air from rushing out of the place, and simply tapped on his Stark Wrist Communicator as he continued to catch his breath. “I don’t understand,” Y/N admitted. She still didn’t know what the damn thing did and had no idea why he’d be using it to figure out she was up there in the first place.

“Mr Stark called me. He said he’d gotten a notification that your vitals spiked and asked me to make sure you were okay. The moment I hung up with him I got a distress signal-“

“I didn’t send a distress signal,” Y/N mentioned in her confusion.

“No, of course not. Jarvis did,” Peter explained, beginning to walk down the street toward where they’d parked. Y/N looked at him blankly and shook her head, still not understanding this strange world she’d been thrown into. “My guess is the yelling and the grabbing set him off, so the distress signal got sent to the nearest com-link wearer, me, and I pulled up the building schematic to trace the signal,” the small boy explained like it were elementary quantum physics.

Y/N shook her head hopelessly, “but it all happened so fast.” It terrified her that things could fall apart so quickly. That she could feel so unsafe in a situation she chose to put herself in. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Peter offered as they reached the Audi.

She really didn’t want to bring it up ever again, but she wanted to clarify something with this boy. “I don’t think he would have ever done it.” Peter cocked his head. “I mean, yeah he was angry and aggressive, but I don’t think he’d go that far. Fight a little sure, get a little too angry yeah. I just… he’s the kind of person who, about a month ago, would have been afraid I was gonna mug him because I was living in a poor, crappy city. The fact that now he thinks I’m a prize to be one because of my background I’m worth pushing around… It just seems so backwards and confusing, Peter! And that’s my whole world right now. I don’t understand any of it.” Quickly Y/N climbed into the car, trying to leave her embarrassment at the door. That was more than she had intended on sharing. So as Peter climbed into the passenger seat, Y/N apologized, “I’m sorry, Peter, I’ll just take you home. Don’t you worry about little old me. I just need the night to regroup.” 

“No. After everything, I’m making sure you get home safe. If that means I need to drive then, hand over the keys. I’ll do it.” Peter’s voice raised in nervous pitch, but he maintained his composure. 

“Peter, even if I wanted you to drive me home, I live at the Avengers Facility. Security is impossible and I’ve basically accepted that I will never be able to have friends over,” Y/N explained hopelessly.

“Except…” the boy encouraged, turning over his hand for her to go on. It was actually the glimpse of the comlink on his own wrist that actually allowed Y/N to process why Peter was special.

“Except you have security clearance because you're Tony’s intern.” Y/N disappointedly threw her head around in a circle as she put together the rather obvious information. “Fuck it,” Y/N responded, aggressively opened the driver’s door she’d only just entered, standing to look at Peter over the roof of the car. “You licensed?” She asked casually.

“I just passed my test last weekend,” Peter responded proudly.

The doors hadn't even closed when Y/N abandoned ship. “Yeah, no. Get back in the car,” the girl commanded, ducking back in head first.  She simply said, “Jarvis?” as she climbed back into the seat and buckled up. She knew his perception and memory protocols were intuitive enough that he’d know what she was asking.

“Routing you to the Avengers Facility, Miss Y/N,” the car responded as it roared to life. The interior began to glow blue from all the lights throughout the dash. Rapidly, the car backed up and pulled out of the parking spot, startling Peter enough that he grabbed the ceiling for stability.

“You can do that?!” the frantic teen wheezed. Y/N decided that was a rhetorical question, and simply smiled at the funny kid. He was so unpredictable—or maybe she just didn’t know him that well yet. 

Y/N reached down the left side of her seat and held the button back until her seat was as far back as it could go. She wasn’t exactly mindful of why she did it. Just to relax Y/N supposed. She just felt really closed off, and as thankful as she was for Peter, she wanted to be alone for a bit to sort her thoughts. The best she could do to indulge that was to rotate her body some to face away from the boy. She didn’t want to talk, she wasn’t sure what to talk about, she hadn’t really put together her whole feelings on the matter. The first couple minutes she felt guilty like she was ignoring Peter, but after several, it seemed normal. She could hear was the quiet engine and the wind on the windows lulling her.

“This is so sad. Jarvis, play Desposito.”

Peter had delivered the line absolutely deadpan, and in the silence, both teens immediately froze to anticipate what Jarvis’s response would be. Y/N’s interests were perked enough that she peeked over her shoulder at the boy. She wasn’t even sure if Jarvis was programmed to respond to him. Peter, as a favor, had shown Y/N a bit more about how the com-link works over lunch during the week and his AI was named Karen, so the J.A.R.V.I.S. system was clearly anchored on the Stark name. It had been silent too long, like Jarvis was deciding. Y/N rotated in her seat back toward Peter so she could get a good look at the console. A flamenco-style guitar flourish resonated through the speakers. Shocked, Y/N turned toward Peter who’s jaw drop said he was screaming on the inside. A slower guitar riff continued as Y/N moved to sit her seat up in pure shock. The notes descended into the song, the meme, the legend and Y/N lost it. She felt laughter bubble up from her throat as she looked at the kid who instigated it. His jaw slowly closed, but the wide surprised eyes stayed. Y/N was loving the reactivity Peter had and wanted to keep it going, so she began dancing with her arms and her torso as the verse built close to the chorus. She was surprised at how easy it was to do a body roll in a car seat. It felt sexy in the suggestive outfit she was wearing, and in this situation, she felt safe to wield that power. It was just Peter, and he was her friend.

“Come on, Peter,” Y/N urged, grabbing the hands of the boy who’d been too thrilled watching her to join in himself. She made their hands dance together, turning Peter’s hands over and pulsing waves through them, before letting go for him to dance on his own whims. She wasn’t a dancer, but the pulsing waves she sent through her body in the car seat felt amazing. She looked over at Peter who was more tentatively head bobbing and swaying side to side, but she was satisfied. It was the kind of song you participated in, and she wanted to share this experience with him until the last line.

The car returned to silence. Putting her arms down, Y/N could feel the beginnings of sweat forming on her back where it was stuck against the leather interior, but it was refreshing. She felt a renewed energy by building a positive experience, and it didn’t make the other one okay, but it made her feel like she was refocused and could better sort out her feelings about what happened, without the depression of them being that last impact. “Thanks, Peter. I needed that,” Y/N admitted in the silence that had returned as the car pulled up out front the Avengers Facility.

“Don’t get me wrong, I was just making a joke to tease you—as a friend of course. Jarvis did the rest,” Peter defended with his hands up in innocence.

Y/N smiled and shook her head as she got out of the car. Peter behind her. The moment both doors were closed the car drove off to perform its parking protocol. Y/N had gotten used to that one small perk of her new life. Never having to park in the garage when she got home was a lifesaver. She turned around to look at Peter, now standing alone on the driveway. “We’ll ask Tony if Happy is still around for the night and see if we can get you a ride home that way,” Y/N suggested, otherwise inviting the boy to follow her in.

She found Tony sitting at the bar in the room she had waited in for so long that first night. He had a drink in his hand, but it was full and the ice inside was but slivers, so Y/N could tell he’d been sitting there for a while not drinking it. She figured maybe even just the action of pouring a drink felt better than doing nothing. He hurried over from the bar at the sight of the kids, worried expression. “What happened?” the man begged.

Y/N thought about what she’d be saying and licked her lips, knowing what she needed to have this conversation. “Peter?”

“Yeah,” the diligent boy stepped forward ready to care for her, and this was the kind of coddling she didn’t need.

“Do you know where the mess hall is?” She turned to face the boy.

Peter Parker assessed her for a moment with those deep chocolate brown eyes and understood, “Yeah, I do,” he answered before quickly walking out of the room.

As soon as the boy stepped out of the room, Y/N began, “Now don’t freak out.”

“What do you mean don’t freak out?!” Tony responded all high strung. “All I know is you sent out a distress signal, of course I’m going to freak out!”

“Well don’t freak out because then I’m gonna freak out!” Y/N rigidly explained, “And I’m not freaking out about it, are you?!”

“No! Are you?” Tony asked tentatively.

After a pause, Y/N insisted, “No.” It was a strange rollercoaster of 4 sentences, but Tony and Y/N were still trying to get used to this whole ‘Parent-Child’ dynamic. They didn’t know how to gauge these situations and it made sense that this would be a little bumpy. They were both scared. Both began waiting for the other to make the next move, and they ended up staring at each other for an uncomfortably long time. “Why’d you call Peter at the first sign of trouble?” Y/N asked finally, careful to start with something relatively explicable.

“I wanted to make sure everything was okay. I wanted you to go with him because I asked him to keep an eye on you,” Tony explained, making Y/N start to heat up.

“Okay, you realize that’s not his job, right? I’m not exactly sure what he does around here, but I know watching me isn’t in the job description.” Y/N felt offended that Tony would waste Peter’s time with tasks like that. Peter was her friend, if he was going to look out for her, he was going to do it because he wanted to, not because he was told to.

“And where would you be if I hadn’t called him, hm?” Tony quizzed, his lips beginning to disappear in reciprocated frustration.

“Right here!” Y/N yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. “There’s clearly something you’re not getting here, so here’s what happened,” the livid teen started listing off on her fingers, “Party. Guy. Bedroom. I said no. He got angry.” She had run out of fingers and decided to continue on anyway. “He wasn’t trying to force anything on me, he just grabbed my arm in a hissy fit. He wouldn’t have hurt me. He wasn’t going to rape me. So if you hadn’t called Peter, the guys hissy fit would have fizzled out on its own, I’d have left, and I would be RIGHT—FUCKING—HERE!” The girl gasped for air and dropped to the ground. She had run herself out of air in her aggression, and she was scared at the high-level emotions she was having. It was making her wheeze.

“Oh, kid,” Tony spoke softly, stepping forward and kneeling down on the floor next to her.

“I just…” she mustered herself. “I don’t know how to feel right now. It was nothing. I know that, but then everything around it makes me feel angry one moment, and fine the next, and I’m sad, but it’s not because of what happened. I don’t know how to feel.” Without another word, Tony sat down on the floor next to the girl and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder she continued to mumble, “It’s just so confusing because he’s not a bad guy and he didn’t really do a bad thing. Like he was responsive when I asked him to stop. But it made him angry, and I guess that makes me angry.” Tony pulled away, and lead Y/N to the couch so she could continue. “I think what bugs me the most is that a month ago that kid wouldn’t have looked my way, and now because you’ve slapped a name on me I’m desirable enough that he wants to fight for it. Like a possession.” Y/N stopped speaking and began chewing on her lip as she thought further.

Tony tapped her knee and stood up. He began working his way toward the bar and asked, “You want anything, kid?” as he swiped the watered-down drink off the counter and dumped it out.

“You realize that sounds wrong because you’re not supposed to be asking me that, right?” Y/N quipped back without missing a beat. She knew he never meant it in the first place, but it felt good and made the girl smile to herself. This was their relationship. He wasn’t her dad, and she wasn’t going to call him that. That didn’t describe their relationship. He was her senior, and she respected that, but that didn’t mean she had to conform her behavior around the associated social rules of Father-Daughter. So Tony and Y/N made quips at each other all the time. It felt nice to have that one note of stability. “Could you bring me a glass of water?” Y/N called over to Tony. Thinking nothing of the man’s lack of response as she heard the clinking of glasses and the sloshing of liquid being poured.

Tony returned, taking a seat on the couch with a single drink in his hand. “Where’s mine?” Y/N mocked offense. She did want the drink, but she much more enjoyed the game of verbal ping pong she and Tony played.

“I’m sorry, but this bar does not serve any underage gods, superheroes, or normal people,” Tony joked with a smile, earning an eye roll from his daughter. “So what are you gonna do if you have to see this kid at school?” Tony inquired earnestly.

Y/N furrowed her brow and shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t hate him… I just hate what he did.”

It was Monday when the girl calmly walked across the lunch room and smashed Amadeus Cho in the face with a lunch tray.

@ace-ingthroughlife-jk @just4muggles @i-alyssa @bravest-at-heart @bookgirlunicorn @really-lucas @loud-binch @alextheodd @avoirlu @tumbleerrtrash @amazingficsthatididnotwrite @superspideyparker @whatevsmels @niteshines-on @royal-sunflower @spiderman-masterlists @goldenrose1099 @fav-fan-ficccs @iamburdened @justalittlecrazybutimok @coonflix @takenbymyfandoms @elioelioeli0 @potterheadbbc @-thatgirloverthere-  @tomshufflepuff @peter-spider-parker-man @maddie-laufeyson @jackiehollanderr @mariah-danielle-winchester @hortonhearsahoeblr @lokimercuri @loxbbg @justanothermarvelfanaccount @darkblueeyedperson @faloncarington @creativedogs @cosmicparkerr

[crewhonk]

Flora and Fauna (one)

In which Y/N receives a gift, and Bucky says thank you

Lots of Stucky int his one! Fluffy, healthy stucky relationship!

Warnings: nsfw themes

words: 2.8K

prologue

__________________

Flora and Fauna, 346 Park Avenue, Manhattan New York

It was another cool, rainy August day for Y/N Y/L/N and she wasn’t even able to walk down the set of stairs from her apartment down to the garden space below without walking back up for another thick sweater. The cool air-conditioned space of her home gave way tot he almost sweltering heat of the plant store below, allowing all of the plants there to thrive and dance in he presence. Her baggy denim overalls and a loose green shirt flowed as she walked, and the chains around her neck tinkled with every step. She walked through the crowded aisles of the store, and brushed her fingertips over each and every leaf she passed, making them greener and more lively than seconds before. 

Her soft fingertips landed on the open to close sign and flipped it open, tracing the protruding lines of the paint that her little cousin had created. Her cat, Oscar, brushed around her ankles as she blinked out into the already-busy streets of downtown New York. 

“Hey, Kitten.” She hummed, bending down and scooping the fluffy cat into her arms with ease. The fur gave him a deceiving appearance, and while he looked to be around ten pounds, he truly only weighed four and a half. He licked her chin and wiggled out of her grasp when she walked closer to the front desk, sashaying his way over to his food and water, on the far side of the counter. 

It was a rapid series of knocks that truly woke her up. She hurried to the back, making sure that nobody would walk in on this cold, rainy day and swung open the rickety screen door to find a large moving truck and an obese man, sweating but smiling pleasantly. 

“Hello,” she spoke, ushering him inside and away from the rain. He gratefully stepped inside and shook her hand with his own dead fish handshake. “What can I do for you, Sir?” She smiled, wiping her hand on her green apron. 

“There’s a shipping here for you, from one S. Rogers?” He squinted at the clipboard in his hand, and she blinked up at him at him stupidly. 

“I didn’t order anything— I can only afford one shipment a month. I got one last week and—“

“Ma’am.” The old man stopped her with a smile, and a heavy hand to her shoulder. She furrowed her brows at him and was about to ask what was really going on when he opened his mouth to speak. “Everything is paid for— all you have to do is sign on the dotted line, and help move all the plants in, and you’re good to go.”

“What?” Y/N found her chest blooming with warmth because whoever this Rogers guy was had spent well over one thousand dollars to get her a truckload of plants that were already keening for her attention. 

The moving process took about one hour, and she spent the rest of the day rearranging plants and shelves to make them all accessible. In that time, she managed to serve several customers and only trip over Oscar three times, each accompanied by a ‘dammit, cat!’.

By the time noon rolled around, she had arranged the green, leafy, and floral additions in a way that took her breath away. The humid air was so thick with fresh scents that Y/N swore she was almost high on the fumes. She picked up her shattered phone and took a few pictures for her rapidly growing Instagram page, editing them and uploading them quickly. 

‘heres to the kindness of strangers. Thank you, S. Rogers, for the surprise shipment :)’

_________________

Avengers Tower, 200 Park Avenue, Manhattan

Steve Rogers was sure this was the third meeting of the day, and the regular coffee he kept getting from the kitchen down the hall was doing nothing for his drooping eyes and his wandering attention. Wanda had suggested tea, but Steve wasn’t too fond of the drink— too boring in his opinion. Tony was off rambling about some local group wreaking havoc on local enhanced individuals, and Steve really should care, he really should but when there were threats all over the world, it seemed that one little New York hate group was a simple little parasite that would eventually befall itself. 

He sat back in his rolling chair, legs spread and arms folded across his chest and felt a warm zing of electricity when Bucky’s flesh hand landed on his upper thigh— nothing sexual, just an absent touch that had made Steve fall for his best friend so many eons ago. The other man's thumb raced patterns against Steve’s jeans, and he found himself relaxing even more under his lovers' touch. 

“You as bored as I am?” Bucky wrote on a pad of paper, nudging it in his direction and watching Steve fight back a childish grin. 

“Probably even more bored, Jerk.” He wrote back with a wink and flashed Bucky a tiny smile when he heard him huff out a laugh. Steve noticed a notification popped up on his phone, and he held it under the table as he pressed his thumb onto the home screen to check it. 

‘flora and fauna has posted a new picture’

He saw the inside of the store in the new picture, brimming to the roof with the plants he had sent her, and a happy smile spread across his face, tapping the heart at the bottom of the picture and commenting ‘glad u liked them! :)’ quickly. Steve had failed to notice the absence of Bucky’s hand on his thigh as he clicked on her page, scrolling absently for a few minutes. 

“Hey, Cap. Eyes up, yeah?” Starks' voice brought Steve out of his heart eyes moment, and he blinked a few times to find everyone looking at him with expressions of disbelief on their faces. 

“Sorry, Boss.” He replied quickly, placing his phone face down and sitting with his posture straight. Bucky, who was still looking at his love, shook his head and glanced at the Captains phone, curious as to who he had been paying attention to. 

“You too, Elsa.” Tony threw a pen in Bucky’s direction, which Bucky caught and tucked behind his ear, smirking when Tony gave him his ‘im running out of patience’ look before searching for another pen and continuing his lecture. 

He and Tony, while still tense around each other had begun to develop a relationship akin to step siblings that had moved in together when they were midway through teenage years. It was awkward a lot of the time, and the picked on each other, but they protected each other in a way that was unspoken. Not healthy, but not exactly unhealthy either. 

The meeting adjured rather soon after, and Bucky and Steve left side by side, heading together to train the new recruits who (in their very personal opinion) were worse for wear. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked, once they got into the change rooms and swung open their lockers across from each other. Bucky found his heart beating quickly in his chest. 

“Yes, Sweets?” He replied, shucking his shirt over his head and turning around to look at his boyfriend of eighty years. 

“Am I enough? For you?” He asked, his voice wavering slightly. Steve looked sharply towards him and stepped over the bench that separated them, dropping his Under Armour shirt on the ground and immediately cradling his face in his large, hard hands. Before even saying anything response, Steve planted a soft kiss on Bucky’s lips, brushing the tips of their noses together and pulling away with a nip to his bottom lip. 

“What the hell do you mean by that, James.” He whispered, brushing his thumbs over his boyfriends' scruffy cheeks. He kissed the tip of Bucky’s nose and continued peppering kisses over his cheeks, forehead, and jaw before finding his favorite place in the crook of Bucky’s neck— right over his pulse point. 

“I just— I feel like you’re— we’re missing something. It’s been eighty years, I know and I wouldn’t want it any other way, but I don’t know. I feel like there needs to be more to us.” Bucky rambled, wrapping his arms around Steve’s narrow waist and pulling him closer. 

“I will love you until the end of the line,” Steve mumbled against his boyfriend's neck, nipping and kissing the sensitive skin behind his ear. Bucky hummed under his touch and gripped Steve’s rapidly growing hair with his metal fist, pulling him closer with a purr. “If you want to find something more for us, I will gladly accept that. No judgment, no fear, all love. I ould be more thanhappy to find someone to share our love.”

“Promise?” Bucky’s voice shook not only with emotion and relief but with arousal at his boyfriends’ ministrations. 

“Always, Buck.” And with the high of previous worries lifted from his shoulders, he sank to his knees and properly thanked Steve Rogers for being the best boyfriend out there. 

__________________

Flora and Fauna, 346 Park Avenue, Manhattan

Y/N had locked the door an hour ago, flipping the homemade sign to ‘closed’ and continuing to sweep and water all the plants that needed to be taken care of. The National played loud over the store speakers, and Y/N danced around with her broom, spinning it around and singing into the end of it as if it were her microphone. It hadn’t crossed her mind that people could still see her bounce around with the antique watering can in one hand and Swiffer duster in the other until she spun towards the door and let out a tiny frightened yelp. 

Because there, about to pull on the stores front door was one Winter Soldier. She watched him tug at the handle once, twice and a third time before he cupped his hands around the glass and peered in, eyes immediately finding her own. 

She was frozen for only three seconds before she dropped the Swiffer to the floor and slid the watering can onto the front desk before nervously wiping her hands on her pant legs (she had since taken off her apron), and fiddling with the keys, struggling to fit them in much to Bucky’s amusement. 

She flung open the door and openly gaped at the former assassin. She had long been a fan of the Avengers, and when James Barnes went through his legal trial, she had followed it religiously, always taking part in online forums and supporting those who wanted him to walk as a free man. She could see how much the legal trial still affected him, as the bags under his eyes were prominent, and the hair he had tied back in a velvet scrunchie (wanda had gotten them for him) looked a little too shiny to be clean. 

“Oh my God, hi. You’re James Barnes- I followed your trial last month and I’m so happy you got acquitted.” Her hand burst forth, and he took it warily with his flesh hand,  her eagerness to meet him throwing him off guard. If Y/N hadn’t been so excited, she would have noticed the way her body immediately reacted to his own. She would have noticed the way her arm hair stood on end, and the way snakes seemed to slither in her lower stomach. She would have noticed the flush of her chest, and the dilation of her pupils as she took this huge model of a man in, drinking him in for everything he was worth. 

“Bucky. Please, my name is Bucky.” He smiled down at her. If she had missed the way her body reacted, he did not miss it, and held back a smirk at the way she fell into a pile of mush in his hand. He didn’t miss the way his own body exploded, a chill went down his spine— one that had only taken place late night in his and Steve’s bed, among heavy breaths and whispered words of pleasure. 

“Bucky, okay.” She breathed, excited. The way she said his name made his mouth feel too hot and his lips parted in reaction. “What can I do for you, Bucky?”

“I was going to get some flowers for someone. They recently became open to an idea that I’ve wanted for a while, and I want to show them how much I appreciate it.” He said, smiling widely and holding her hand in both of his. Was this really going to be that easy?

She broke out into a wide smile that made Bucky’s heart hammer in his chest. He thought it really may actually be easier.

“Maybe some roses?” He asked, wiping his combat boots on the welcome rug and showing his hands into his pocket. He still wore a leather glove over his metal hand, not yet ready for the Wakandan prothetic to be showcased to the world. 

She wrinkled her nose in disgust and scoffed under her breath. A reaction that made his eyebrows shoot into his hairline and his eyes widen. 

“What was that for?” He asked, a smile pulling at one corner of his lips. She turned back to him and leaned against the counter, sipping her heavily sweetened coffee and staring at him emptily through her lashes. He ignored the way his lions reacted to the look. 

“Roses are tacky so I don’t carry them.” Her reply was short, and the curt response made him throw his head back in laughter, filling the room with joy. Y/N would be damned if she never wanted to hear that laugh again. 

“Oh yeah? What flowers would you get to express gratitude then?” He thanked her quickly as she gave him a mug of coffee and waved him into the back to where the extra floors from the shipment this morning were. 

“These are some flowers I don’t have on the floor yet, so I usually use them for deliveries. I love Sweet Pea flowers for thank you. They’re very real and when they’re in bushels they look kind of messy, but that adds some sort of beauty to them? Kind of like showing gratitude, I guess— messy but beautiful all the same.” She smiled, motioning to the pots of Sweets on one of the middle shelves. He walked forward and his flesh hand traced the soft, odd-looking flower, and Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised by the care he took in admiring it. 

“What do you mean? Thank you’s are messy and beautiful.” He said, leaning in a smiling the flower. They swayed under his attention and Y/N smiled softly— the flowers in her shop seemed to have spirits of their own, and it wasn’t just coincidence they danced when she was in a room. 

“Well, no real thank you is graceful and well put together. Those are usually the ones that aren’t genuine.” She spoke softly, sipping her coffee and smiling at him with a closed mouth when he looked over at her. His eyes scanned her body up and down and when he met her eyes, she was blushing under the weight of his gaze. 

“You’re very smart, you know.” He said, picking up the pot and wrapping his clothed metal arm around it. “What’s your name?” 

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I’ll get these, then Y/N Y/L/N. You’re one hell of a saleswoman.”

“Oh, you can just take them. A gift for you.” She smiled, watching as he walked over to her, digging in his jean pockets for a bill. 

“No, I could never—“

“I’m serious, Mr. Barnes. Take them.” She whispered. He was suddenly very close to her. He took her hand in his own, and slipped a hundred dollar bill in her fist, backing away through the green room door.

“A tip for you, then. It was wonderful seeing you, Y/N.” He called out as he left the store, leaving Y/N shaking in the back room with a rush of excitement and joy. 

It wasn’t until Oscar brushed up against her, purring as his tail wrapped around her calf, that she broke out of her reverie and scooped him up in her arms, jumping around and squealing in a way she hadn’t since One Direction had announced they were coming to New York for the third time. 

“That just happened! Oh my God, Oscar! That happened!” She yelled, frightening the cat to his very core. She didn’t care though, because she had just given Bucky Barnes sweet pea flowers, a coffee, and a smile. 

Tags: @emolordisme @sergeantjbuckybarnes @prettybubblesintheair @shynara51 @dizwinchester

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Building Our Home (1/10)

WC: 1267

After the rest stop, Peter and Mike do not speak the entire drive, despite it being nearly a day and a half. What is there to say? They’ve been through hell, and Peter is a different man, and he can probably hear everything Mike is thinking anyway. There’s no point in trying to voice how hurt he is at being abandoned by Peter when they had the chance to reunite. For the couple weeks they were staying in some small house, Ellie took good care of him and helped him heal from his injuries, while Peter barely spoke to him.

And now, because they haven’t talked, Peter probably thinks Mike’s afraid of him when he’s really just afraid of himself. He didn’t know he could hurt people, not like that. Every time Peter touches his bare skin, Mike’s terrified of filling him with pain. He’s so tired of hurting people. He doesn’t want to do it anymore, and given how he always says Mike is easy to read, that his mind is like an overflowing sink, there’s no telling the kind of damage he could cause.

So they do not touch. Not even when they reach the small town in the midwest, and Peter parks the robin egg blue pickup along the road so they can walk into the grocery on mainstreet, right next to the local newspaper office. Both are so small, remind Mike of play sets he always wanted from the store but his father dragged him away from. It is a chain grocery though, Mike can tell that much. When he was really little, his mom took him on a road trip cross country, and there were a few Hy-Vees when they passed through Iowa. He remembers eating breakfast there with her on a thick aired morning.

He misses her.

When they walk inside, and Peter picks up a couple sodas to give him an excuse to talk to the cashier, Mike tries not to look at the logo because it hurts too much. He keeps his head down and his hands in his pockets, listening in but wishing he could curl up somewhere dark and never leave.  

“I haven’t seen you boys before, are you new?”

“No, sir, we’re from the next town over,” Peter tells the cashier cheerfully. “We’re writing an article on that kid, Sonny, with the green thumb, for our school newspaper. Know where we could find him?”

Mike expects the cashier to at least be hesitant, but when he looks up the cashier has a dazed look on his face. His voice is robotic when he gives directions. Down the street, make a left, then a right, follow the road all the way to the Carisi household.

Sonny Carisi. They have a full name now, at least.

“Real strange kid,” the cashier adds, voice back to normal. “He’s nice and all, very sweet. But he’s odd. Keeps to himself, doesn’t have a cell phone. Does all the errands himself, you know. His parents and sisters, they stay around the house.”

“Thank you very much, sir, you have a good day.”

The cashier waves at them as they leave, unaware of the fact that Peter didn’t pay for either of the pop cans they leave with. One of them is placed in Mike’s hands, but he’s too sick to his stomach to drink it. Peter just used his powers for no reason other than he wanted to. Because it was just easier than paying five dollars they definitely have. Christ.                               

Peter opens the truck door for him and closes it after him, then gets into the driver’s seat to follow the directions to the Carisi household. He must decide the silence is over, because he clears his throat and starts talking.

“I know that the whole- the place we were, it wasn’t pleasant. It helps to talk about it, you know.”

“Is that why you haven’t spoken to me since?”

“I’ve tried, you don’t remember?”

Mike’s head starts to hurt a little, his thoughts going soft at the edges. An image of sitting on the couch while Peter sits in front of him, trying to get his attention, floats at the forefront of his mind. But it’s wrong, because there was no place in front of the couch to sit at Ellie’s house. There was a coffee table covered in flower pots, not a chair. As soon as he thinks that, the image shifts, and Mike realizes exactly what’s going on.

“Get the fuck out of my head.”

It all disappears just like that. The faint ache, the fuzziness, the picture. In the blink of an eye, it’s like it never happened. But Mike knows it did, knows that Peter just tried to manipulate him. Peter, his best friend since childhood. Peter, who always protects him. Peter, who’s saved his life multiple times since they ran away. Peter, who promised to never do that to him.

Mike sinks down in his seat and leans his head against the cool window, staring out at the world as the cracking asphalt turns to dirt roads kicking up fine dust around them. He knows he should drink the soda, keep his blood sugars up, but the thought of doing so makes him want to scream because of Peter. He doesn’t want anything from him. If he could, Mike would run off, but he knows he wouldn’t survive it. At least for now, he needs Peter with him. He’s just as trapped as he was in that cell,

The house they pull up in front of is old, dilapidated. Ivy and moss climb up the walls, weave through the windows that don’t look to have had glass in them for a very long time. And sitting on the porch is a teenager. Blond. Skinny. Surrounded by luscious greenery, a circle of flowers surrounding him. He looks up when Peter parks the car, but doesn’t come any closer.

Although he definitely doesn’t like to take the initiative in any sort of social situations, certainly not one as important as this, Mike gets out of the car first because he doesn’t know what Peter might do to the teenager, if he thought it was acceptable to manipulate Mike of all people.

“You must be Sonny, right?”

The plants around him seem to grow and move forward, protectively arching around him and displaying sharp thorns like stingers. “Stop sending people after me. I’ve gotten rid of every single one, when will you realize-”

“Hey, hey, no one sent us,” Mike says calmly, putting his hands up in surrender and stepping forward. “We’re like you, we have powers. We don’t wanna hurt you.”

Sonny studies him carefully, and then Peter. He gets a strange look on his face, just like the cashier, and a burst of frustration runs through Mike before something soothes it, so gentle, so careful. There was a time he would be comforted. But now he just focuses on his anger to watch Peter wince where he stands. Serves him right.

“Why don’t we talk inside,” Peter starts.

Immediately, Sonny’s eyes go wide and he pushes himself back, the plants going back to attack mode. They reach for Peter, all thorns and sharp branches and what Mike thinks may be poison ivy.

“No. We stay out here, understand me?”

“Yes, okay.”

Sonny turns his attention back to Mike, having apparently decided he likes him better, trusts him more, or both. The plants start to ease back, and a spot opens up beside him for Mike to sit too. It seems they’re going to start talking.