#soda is one of those things where you don’t really have any option but to buy the corporate soda

[halfricanloveyou]

i live in america. there are no other brands besides corporate brands and brands that are owned by corporate. there are not local alternatives in most stores. i have never in my life seen a locally made soda. i’ve only seen a locally made alcohol and it is only available in a restaurant.

local alternatives also cost more. if you go to a walmart, the most affordable grocery stores, they do not have any local products. if you go to a more expensive grocery store they do! there are 2 local products. they are jam and salsa. there are 5 varieties of jam and 5 of the salsa. it is all only from one local seller. it costs 3 times as much as the other products in the same aisle, which already cost more than they would at a different store.

instead you could buy an off brand soda. it will be cheaper but it will taste bad and it is made by the Walmart corporation which also underpays it’s workers and at some locations treats them horribly.

we can’t buy what is not available and accessible to us. in america we don’t have any other options than what is produced by corporations. spending more on locally made speciality goods weekly is not realistic.

*You should recognize bad practices AND not voluntarily support companies through conducting business (i.e. purchasing luxury products).

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Movie Theaters

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Alien: Why are you taking me to a dark place? Alien: Do you plan to murder me? Human: What? No! Alien: I thought we were friends, Human Jim. Human: I’m not going to- Alien: I will not go down so easily, Human Jim! Alien: *Begins sprinting away in opposite direction Human: *watches friend run away… Human: (Shouts) This was your idea you idiot! --------------------

Alien: So people come here to watch a moving picture? Human: We call them “Movies”. Alien: But then the same picture is only on these giant screens for a few of your rotations before it can be seen on your smaller screens? Human: Yes. Alien: So really you are just paying to see your “movie” on a bigger screen? Human: Yes. Alien: How does that make sense? Human: Some movies just need to be seen on bigger screen. Alien: *Phissh *Proceeds to watch “Return of the King” on movie screen. Alien: Sobbing I was wrong. Human: Damn right you were. --------------------

Human: Now remember, snack counters are where movie theaters really shiv you for money. Alien: It can’t be that bad. *At register after getting snacks Clerk: So that is one popcorn, one soda, and two boxes of candy which will total sixty seven credits. Alien: SIXTY SEVEN!?!?!? Alien: That’s nearly triple what we paid for tickets! Clerk: We also now offer organ harvesting options if you don’t have credits. Human: You can’t be- Human: *Sees alien friend lifting up shirt and cutting open stomach Human: You can’t be serious. Alien: Whispers It’s okay, I have thirteen livers and I only use six on any given day. -----------------

Alien: Where should we sit? Human: We could sit at the top; it’s more recluse and no people behind us but perverts tend to hangout up there. Alien: Wait….what? Alien: Why would perverts go to a movie- Alien: *Realization Alien: Oh. Alien: OH. Alien: OH!!! Human: Yeah…… Human: Just be thankful we aren’t seeing a “My Little Pony” movie. Alien: Surely it can’t be that bad. Human: I once saw a group of ushers break out night sticks to shoo them out, and they didn’t leave until they “finished”. Alien: *Barfs. ---------------------

Alien: Why does the movie listing say it starts at a certain time but then must watch twenty minutes of ads for other movies before it even starts? Human: It’s a misdirect. Human: It gives people a chance to get snacks and then make it to the movie without missing anything. Alien: No wonder your species is weak. Alien: You cater to those who cannot manage their time properly. Human: Oh that’s not how we measure strength. Human: The real test is being able to control your bladder for three hours so you don’t miss a single thing. Alien: I will admit that is impressive. Human: My record is twelve hours. Alien: Why would you endure such pain? Human: When you watch the extended editions of LOTR nothing less is acceptable. --------------------

Alien & Human: *Patiently watching movie Annoying kids behind them: *Kicking chair Human: Whispers back Please stop. Annoying kids: *Continues kicking Human: Last warning, please stop. Annoying kids: *Snickers and continues kicking. Alien: Looks at human Now? Human: Nods They were warned. Alien: Roars and leaps back into children Annoying kids: Scream in terror as alien throws one of them into the screen. Alien: Looks at human friend as they are holding second child in air Are you sure this is acceptable? Human: *Points at surrounding audience cheering and clapping Human: Crowd justice has spoken. Alien: *Shrugs and flings remaining child into nearby wall. ----------------------

Alien: When is it acceptable to speak in a movie? Human: If a movie is terrible and the crowd’s commentary is more entertaining. Alien: You’ve seen this happen? Human: Oh yeah. Human: Last time it was for a movie about three masked killers hunting down some people in a trailer park. Human: We all ended up cheering for the killers as the lead’s acting was terrible. Human: When they actually died we started cheering; the person next to me started weeping tears of joy. --------------------

Alien: *Whispers to human Alien: That human next to you is recording the movie on their phone. Human: I noticed. Alien: Are you not going to do anything? Human: Not unless their phone brightness gets brighter. Alien: Do you not care for the movie industry? Human: No. Human: *Notices light get brighter Human: But I do care about my own time enjoying it. Human: *Proceeds to grab drink and pour it on phone human, triggering a massive fight which has him and his alien friend thrown out of theater.

[candycryptids]

I don’t really know much about your OCs yet apart from a little bit about Tuesday but I’d like to give that question about favorite/comfort food back to you! You can answer for any OCs you want tho, of course! 🫶

🥺 yeah that’s entirely my bad I write stuff but it ends up scattered to the four corners and tucked into Random Tags (trying to do better but alas,) ALSO THANK YOU 😭

I haven’t fully worked out with solid confidence if Tuesday is ever allowed to actually eat or not (gears whirring) but I do have non-xiv au’s where he’s not a robot (and instead just Chuu’s brother lmfao) and in THAT situation his comfort food is Garbage, like, fast-food Cheeseburger With The Works, big soda, and French fries. He becomes a puddle of chronic agonies on the couch and watches How It’s Made. Lmfao. (His favorite food is probably Ramen, though. It’s a bitch to make really good at home so it becomes like a special occasion thing.) IN XIV if he ends up able to eat food (I have justifications-) his favorite food would. Likely end up being things with texture and sensation over taste. Like Grapes (regular or frozen) or like, those really fancy hors dourves (finger foods???) that you KNOW the elite Ul’Dahns (and eulmorans) probably eat at fancy dinner parties. (That aside, he does enjoy cooking, the act of creation is fulfilling and relaxing)

And cos I mentioned Chuu here’s a quick bonus answer

Chuus go-to food is Archon Loaf (optionally dipped in tomato soup.) you can at it one handed, the soup makes it marginally less chewy, and she doesn’t have to stop to eat as many meals cos it’s so nutritionally dense. — Comfort foods end up being things that are really familiar. Garlean MRE’s (made ready to eat) are nostalgic, but if she’s frustrated/stumped on a project she wants a finger food that you can eat a billion of in a row (like. Yknow. Potato chips? But I can’t think of an Eorzean equivalent rn ;w; )

[tsukasageorge]

hey raey! ur art is so pretty, reminds me of a strawberry soda float tbh. anyways I wanted to ask what your coloring process is if you don’t mind sharing :)

OH MY GOD HI THANK YOU FOR ASKING LOVE YOU FOREVER ALSO SORRY FOR ANSWERING KIND OF LATE I DONT CHECK MY ART ACC VERY OFTEN ANYMORE

ok so (this is a lighting tutorial not a rendering tutorial btw) here's my Ten Step (not) Program For Achieving Strawberry Soda Floatness

i actually usually start with pretty normal/true to reference colors bc i often don't have incredibly intense, neon lighting. however, im gonna be using the mari piece i just finished to demo, where i wanted to pinkify the drawing from the start.

here are some of the base colors (skin, hair, shirt): as you can see even the white shirt leans into saturation/color, and they're all kept around the red/pink area.

ok so here (skipping about 15 steps) i already did the rendering using a color shifting method where instead of using multiply or directly lowering the luminosity (?) i shift the hue closer to the blue/purple category and decrease luminosity + slightly up saturation of the color. so like, on mari's skin you can see that the shadows are pink and purple rather than like. orange or something.

for the background i filled it with a lightish pink color and used the sunset gradient tool on a 30-50% opacity to establish the light source.

alright, here's where the fun begins.

i started off by using an overlay layer (later lowered to 28%, but just use whatever looks good) on the darker colors where the light would shine the brightest. this layer originally included highlights on the face and shirt as well, but i took those off bc the yellow on dark colors looks like an orange and the yellow on lighter colors looks like a fucking highlighter.

first i added a sort of reflected/second light source of this fun little pink on soft light. i did 2 layers bc 1 wasn't bright enough for me. then on the lighter areas i added white highlights. important little tip: when i pick colors for overlays i usually use yellow as the primary light source, pink as a midtones/secondary light source, and blue or purple as the shadows. however, this is not a rule, just an example:

in this drawing i have blue as the light source & red as the shadow. my tips for picking colors to overlay with: most programs/devices have an option for you to turn off the saturation. whichever color looks lightest is often best for the highlights. you can obviously change the brightness but yeah just make sure your highlights aren't darker than your shadows

apologies for the inconsistent opacities, you get the idea. so i would like to make a disclaimer here that for my hxhbb piece (left) i used only one direct lighting overlay, which was the yellow. the amount of those overlays i use per piece varies. anyways i added a lighter green as a substitute for the white highlights on the darker colors

lil bit of a secret sauce: on an overlay layer i airbrushed yellow onto roughly half of her and pink on the other side. unifies the colors + lighting and just looks cool

okay now here's how to actually strawberry soda float-ify your art (sorry lol that was just background info):

the sunset gradient map is your best friend here. you can really just fuck around with any gradient maps, doesn't really matter. now you can also change the brightness, contrast, saturation, etc. what i usually do is up the saturation & luminosity together: +50 saturation and +25-50 luminosity. experiment with blending modes and opacities and shit

when you're done, uhh, congratulations. the gradient maps are really carrying the entire thing the yellow and white lighting is just to torture myself with

[quanjewelry]

These Jewelry Answers Allow You To Steer Clear Of Disaster

Before you buy any jewelry, read tips like these so you can get a real feel for what you should be looking for and what things you should keep in mind. Building a jewelry collection is fun and the results are something that you can pass down for generations.

Learning about jewelry definitely takes some time. It is one of those things that you really have to study to see what works with your skin tone and wardrobe choices. You also want to make sure you don't end up spending too much on jewelry that really isn't worth it. Here's some tips to help.

Before purchasing earrings that have diamonds or other stones in them, make sure that the stones can be replaced. You do not want to be put in a situation where the stones have fallen out of your earrings and they cannot be replaced. If you are unsure, you can always ask a jeweler before you buy them.

When buying jewelry as a gift, buy something that can be worn every day. Diamond stud earrings are an excellent choice as they go with anything. Watches are also a very utilitarian option, just make sure it's classy but casual enough that she could wear it to work. Neutral colors are also an excellent choice.

To clean up a piece of vintage jewelry, use a window cleaner. Spray a small amount of the window cleaner on a soft, lint-free piece of cloth. Gently rub the cloth against the jewelry until it sparkles. Vintage jewelry is often found in poor condition, and using this cleaning method can make it look new.

Beware of wearing hemp jewelry if you plan on swimming. Though hemp jewelry can be very beautiful and appealing when you are dry, you can quickly find yourself in dire straights. Hemp shrinks when wet and can quickly become too tight for you. Be especially wary of hemp choker style necklaces.

If you can't afford to pay consignment fees for your handmade jewelry, consider partnering with other small and local business owners or jewelers to hold a trunk sale, mini-bazaar, or retail showcase night to generate interest in the community. Small jewelers and crafters can benefit by bonding with one another instead of viewing each other as competitors. If you are very worried about this, only approach jewelers with dissimilar styles and fashions.

To remove tarnish from your silver jewelry without harsh chemicals, line the inside of a pot with aluminum foil, and add four cups of water and an eighth of a cup each of baking soda, salt and dish soap. Gently place all of your pieces into the liquid, counting them as you go. Bring the mixture up to a simmer for a couple of minutes, then turn off the burner and allow it to soak. Pour everything gently through a colander, then place the pieces on a towel to dry, counting them as you go.

To keep jewelry safe, avoid putting it all in a jewelry box that sits out as a decorative piece in your home. Nothing says, "Come grab me, I am filled with expensive stuff!" to thieves quite like a displayed jewelry box. If you want more access to your jewelry than a safety deposit box allows, and a professionally installed wall safe isn't an option, get creative and hide your jewelry within objects not likely to even be touched by thieves. Air-tight containers can be tucked inside plant pots or diaper pails, hollow out a book to form a secret compartment, or stash a small case at the bottom of a box of tampons! You need to think like a thief to avoid being taken advantage of by a thief.

[bmaxwell]

Game of the Year 2022: Honorable Mentions

So 2022 was an incredible year for gaming. A lot of great indie games came out, but the AAA games brought the heat this year too. The following is a list of the games I enjoyed this year that missed my top 10. 

Cult of the Lamb

This game has a similar loop to 2020′s Hades, with the player’s time split between two activities: combat run and, here, some light town management. Er, cult management. You play as a cute little sheep who also happens to be a cult leader, tasked with taking down The One Who Waits. You are doing combat runs and managing your settlement of cultists between. This involves feeding them, providing adequate shelter, whipping them into a religious fervor, and maybe the occasional sacrifice. Each half of the game is fun, and it doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Arcanium

This was a good year for roguelite deckbuilders. As a fan of the genre, I enjoyed them all, but none really stood out in the way Slay the Spire or Monster Train did for me in previous years. This one is lane-based combat with 3 heroes - chosen from a roster of 16, each with their own pool of cards. There’s a ton of cards and abilities to unlock, and finding synergies between various lineups of heroes is a blast. This was on my second monitor frequently this year. It’s my favorite One of These in 2022.

Power Wash Simulator

I’ve understood that there is an appeal to Chore-core™ games, and I remember appreciating my wife’s love of House Flipper. They never held any interest for me at all until Power Wash Simulator came to game pass. It’s a game about power washing. And that’s it. Each stage is a dirty thing and you make it clean. Sometimes it’s a vehicle or something, sometimes it’s a skate park or a backyard.

I can’t explain it, but it’s a Zen experience, slowly blasting the dirt away until things are pristine. For a couple of months, I’d spend half an hour in the morning before work blasting virtual dirt away. It’s satisfying in a way I can’t articulate. 

I understand now.

Strange Horticulture 

This game came from out of nowhere and really impressed me. I know vibes is an overused, nebulous term that means almost nothing in 2022, but goddamn this game’s vibes are just spot-on perfect for me. You play as the shopkeeper in a small town where mysterious shit is going down. People come in with problems like “I get headaches” or “I have a rash” or “I hear spirits and I need to be able to see them as well.” You consult your horticulture book and figure out what to sell them. The drawings are detailed and beautiful, and the descriptions range from direct to very vague. You label and organize the plants manually as you learn what they’re named and what they do. 

The music is somber, gentle piano. Sometimes it rains. You have a black cat named Hellbore. It’s a really thoughtful, unusual game where you are consulting your plant book, analyzing clues, referencing a map, and solving mysteries big and small - in a sleepy, more-than-meets-the-eye small town. Perfect game for me. 

Kirby and the Forgotten Land 

I grew up with video games and Nintendo, so I don’t know how I made it past the age of forty without ever playing a Kirby game, but I did. I kept thinking of Super Mario Odyssey while playing this game. Just a colorful, joyous experience. Eating dudes to get their powers (and upgrading those powers) is a blast, and the big mouth mode for eating stuff like cars and soda machines is dumb and fun as hell. 

The collectibles are many, but optional. And the ending is really anime in a way I did not expect, but loved. What a fun game. 

Signalis 

I feel like the N64-PS1 era of games mostly aged very poorly. I have no real nostalgia for the era, or for old Resident Evil games of the time. So when Signalis came around, I only gave it a try because it’s on Game Pass. And goddammit, I love this game. The muddy visuals of that era, the survival horror tropes of limited ammo, limited inventory space, and designated save spots are all here. You’re exploring a dangerous, oppressive environment trying to unravel a mystery - and the game even shifts into other perspectives a few times. 

I was absolutely hooked on this game for a solid week.

Vampire Survivors

What a weird, unlikely hit this game was. It looks and plays like a mobile game, but (crucially) without any of the gross, shitty, predatory elements found in those. The result feels like a throwback to arcade games in a way. Simple gameplay, addictive, and short sessions make it easy to pick up and put down. It inspired a bunch of imitators, many of which felt like far more than just copycats. 

This is one of the things I love so see in the videogame industry: unlikely success stories.

Beacon Pines

Beacon Pines is a perfect Game Pass game. It’s a great little 5-6 hour experience that I never would have sought out if it weren’t on a service I already sub to. It’s a cute choose-your-own adventure game that plays out like a storybook (complete with narrator). You find new keywords and go back to checkpoints in the story, plugging your new words in to get new branching paths. And even though it’s cute, it’s also plenty spooky and gets pretty dark. My wife and firstborn also finished this one, it made for a great Halloween game. 

The DioField Chronicle

The DioField Chronicle is a perfect example of a “7 out of 10: fans of the genre will find something to enjoy here” title. It’s perfectly enjoyable, but feels like it could have been more. The combat is fun, but it stays largely the same throughout the game’s 30+ hour campaign. You get a retinue of fighters, archers, cavalry, and magic users that you can outfit with gear, gussy up with new powers, and mix and match from one battle to the next. The story is serviceable, a tale of warring kingdoms, betrayal and....well, you know. I did enjoy the personalities of some of the characters, but the game could have done more with them.

I like it because I like it. 7/10

Pokemon Legends: Arceus

Pokemon Legends: Arceus isn’t the first Pokemon game I’ve ever tried, but it landed for me far better than any other in the series. I enjoyed the open nature of it, being able to walk around and see monsters in the wild, and decide whether to capture them, or battle, or avoid them felt organic in a way other games in the series haven’t for me. It’s also cool that you’re just trying to help out a colony and solve a mystery, rather than battling rivals to be the best that ever was. 

I didn’t end up finishing it because, despite liking the aesthetics and the collecting, I don’t care for the combat. It’s too quick, too rock-paper-scissors for me.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder's Revenge

This game is just a good old-fashioned couch coop beat-em-up. I played this with my 2 youngest children. It’s nice when a game does one thing really well and doesn’t try to be more than it is. Plus, Mike Patton sang the intro music, which is weird and great. 

Tinyfolks

There are plenty of low price, bite-sized games out there. Very few of them are RPG’s. Tinyfolks has turn-based combat and city building elements. I spent an enjoyable 5 hours with it, and that’s enough. It’s a $3.99 game, and how we value games around price and play time is weird and hard. But Tinyfolks is pretty fun. 

Alina of the Arena

I’m a mark for indie strategy / card games. Steam knows this, and serves this stuff up to me. A lot of these games look same-y, even to me (a conniosseur). Sometimes they get weird with it, and I like that. This is an arena combat game where you’re playing cards to move, attack, reload weapons, and the such. Alina of the Arena was yet another great game I had going on my second monitor frequently throughout the year. Finding new weapons and moves and evolving your combat style is fun, and occasionally everything works out where you can chain a bunch of attacks together and feel like a genius powerhouse. The crowd roars and throws a bunch of money into the arena. Very baller. 

Gordian Quest

On paper, Gordian Quest is 100% my shit. Cards, deckbuilding, a pool of unique characters to build your team from, tactical combat on a grid. A grid. In practice, Gordian Quest is about 75% my shit. That is to say I played quite a bit of it and enjoyed my time with it, but it never quite lit a fire under me the way I’d expected. 

Across the Obelisk

A deckbuilding roguelite - hey, did I mention that a LOT of these came out this year? Like Gordian Quest, I spent a fair bit of time enjoying this on my second screen, but it never truly grabbed me. 

Shadows Over Loathing

Whenever a game bills itself as comedy, it almost always falls flat with me. It’s such a difficult thing to pull off - comedic writing is super challenging, and so much of comedy involves timing. Shadows Over Loathing (like its predecessor West of Loathing) pulls it off beautifully. The game has smart writing, plenty of visual gags (please put on every pair of shoes you find) and a little bit of wisdom snuck in there too. I’m a big fan of the early 1900′s detective noir style with some existential horror thrown in, but I will play any game in this series regardless of the theme and setting. 

River City Girls 2

This came out in mid-December, so I haven’t gotten much time with it. So far it’s more of the same, which is just what I want.

[cuisinecravings]

Dr. Pepper vs. Coke? Which is One Better?

Dr. Pepper vs. Coke? Two of the most popular sodas on the market are Dr. Pepper and Coke. However, they are very different, particularly for those who select either as their preferred soda. When deciding which drink to purchase, take into account how they differ. Then, you may decide which matches your taste buds the most.

Dr. Pepper vs. Coke? Which is One Better?

How Do Coke and Dr. Pepper Compare?

One of the most distinctive sodas is Dr. Pepper, which originates from Texas. Only a small number of people are aware of all 23 of its flavours. The business stores a secret recipe in a bank vault. On the other hand, Coke, a Georgia-born drink, has inspired numerous imitators. Pepsi is Coke's main rival, and both companies enjoy widespread global appeal.

Comparing Dr. Pepper and Coke

Coke and Dr. Pepper have several things in common. You might want to find out what they have in common if you're trying to choose between the two. Then, if those things are what matter to you the most, you can choose any drink you like. Think about the following characteristics of both sodas.

Caffeine

Both sodas provide a small amount of caffeine, which might keep you focused. You can drink Coke or Dr. Pepper if you don't drink coffee or tea frequently. Now, the amounts of caffeine in each drink vary just a little. In a 12-ounce serving of Dr. Pepper, there are 41 mg of caffeine. In contrast, Coke has only 34 mg of caffeine per litre of drink. There is no difference in the amount of caffeine between regular and diet drinks, or between different Coke or Dr. Pepper flavours. Of course, if you consume a lot of either soda, the difference can be rather dramatic.

Soda Dark

The fact that both sodas are dark brown is another commonality. Although it doesn't really matter, you'll probably notice it right away. You must use caution if a friend orders a Coke and you order a Dr. Pepper. The beverages might be simple to mix. Employees at a drive-through restaurant like McDonald's may mix up the drinks, which could result in you receiving the incorrect beverage. You might want to go inside and make your own drink as a result. The lids can then be marked so that you don't consume the incorrect soda. Related Articles:- Does Sierra Mist Have Caffeine? How to Check & Know? What are the Dr Pepper Off Brands? Which One is Best? Does Fanta Have Caffeine? How Much Caffeine is in Fanta? Can You Mix MiraLAX with Milk? The Truth Uncovered How to Decarbonate a Drink?

Preferred in restaurants

The fact that they are both quite well-liked at restaurants is another similarity. As previously stated, McDonald's sells both sodas. Both are available at numerous other fast food chains as well, including eateries with Coca-Cola Freestyle machines. Of fact, some eateries might only offer one type of soda. You therefore have more options for where to get a pick-me-up if you enjoy both. For instance, Panera sells Dr. Pepper but only Pepsi, not Coke. Another eatery that serves Dr. Pepper but not Coke is Taco Bell. Red Embroidery The branding shares greater visual similarities with the hue of the drink. Red and white are used by both sodas to brand themselves. There are now a few minor variations in the branding. For instance, Dr. Pepper employs a darker, more subdued hue of red than Coke does with its red. Additionally, the Coca-Cola logo is far more easily recognised than the Dr. Pepper logo. Over the years, Dr. Pepper's branding has also changed a bit. Coke hasn't changed much throughout the years. Coke and Dr. Pepper Differences While the similarities between Dr. Pepper and Coke are significant, the differences are more crucial. You might want to know how the two differ if you're attempting to decide which soda to buy. When contrasting the two well-known brands, keep the following in mind. Competitors Coke and Dr. Pepper compete with each other more covertly. Mr. Pibb is Dr. Pepper's largest rival, yet it isn't a nearly as well-known brand. There are certainly additional copycats out there, but they are uncommon. The main rival to Coke is Pepsi, which is widely available. There are a tonne of Coke knockoffs out there that go by the label "cola." The argument between Coke and Pepsi is likewise considerably more compelling than any argument between Dr. Pepper and Mr. Pibb. However, some ardent supporters of either of those drinks could be prepared to defend their preferred beverage. Flavor The flavours of the two sodas also differ. Dr. Pepper already has some cherry flavour, but to acquire the same taste from Coca-Cola, you must purchase Cherry Coke. For some, the regular Coke is a little too bland. It also has a little fizzier flavour than Dr. Pepper. Any distinctive flavour characteristics in Coke may be more difficult to detect as a result. Dr. Pepper varieties, such as the previously mentioned cherry and things like brown sugar, are simpler to differentiate. Coke has a distinctive formula, but Dr. Pepper appears to be more concerned about safeguarding its formulation. The recipe for Dr. Pepper is kept a secret by a small group of people. That might also prevent imitations from emerging. Popularity Both sodas are fairly well-known, as was already mentioned. However, Coke is significantly more well-liked, particularly globally. When you travel abroad, you can have a lot simpler time finding Coke. Additionally, if you attend a family barbecue, Coke may be available but not Dr. Pepper. Grocery stores make it simple to find Coke cans and bottles. Yes, retailers also sell Dr. Pepper in bottles and cans. However, unless someone is already a fan of Dr. Pepper, they might not consider purchasing the soda for a gathering. However, you don't have to adore Coke to consider purchasing it as a drink alternative.

Final Conclusion

Both Dr. Pepper and Coke are well-known beverages, although they are rather dissimilar. Be sure to take factors like flavour, popularity, and caffeine content into account. Then you can decide if one beverage satisfies your requirements. Of course, if you already like either brand, you may already be aware of which to choose. The soda you choose probably won't be influenced by the similarities and differences. Read the full article

[lemondropdancer]

Grounding Techniques

Mental Distraction Techniques

Pick a category of objects and try to think of as many objects as possible that fit within that category (e.g., types of dogs, cities, types of trees, crayon colors, sports)

Pick a letter and think of emotionally positive or neutral words that begin with that letter

Pick a color and look for things of that color. Notice differences in their exact shades

Say or think the alphabet backwards or alternate letters and numbers (A1, B2, C3, D4, etc)

Count backwards from 100 by 3s, 6s, or 7s or count up by prime numbers or perfect squares

Play "fizz-buzz" with yourself. Begin counting to 100 (or over!), but replace any number that contains the number 5 or is a multiple of 5 with the word "fizz" and any number that contains the number 7 or is a multiple of 7 with the word "buzz." For example, 1-15 would be "1, 2, 3, 4, fizz, 6, buzz, 8, 9, fizz, 11, 12, 13, buzz, fizz." When you mess up, compliment yourself and start over

Think of the words to your favorite song or poem or think of facts related to a specific theme

Pick a word or your name and see how many other words you can make from the letters in it

Describe an every day event or process in great detail, listing all of the steps in order and as thoroughly as possible (e.g., how to cook a meal, how to get from your house to your place of work or school, how to do your favorite dance)

Read something technical or meant for children or read words backwards to focus on the process of reading and not the words

Watch a children's television show or movie or watch cute or funny videos on Youtube; it might help to have a playlist already prepared for this

Look at a current news article that is not likely to be upsetting or distressing

Distract yourself with Tetris, Solitaire, Sudoku, word searches, or other puzzle games

Reorientation Techniques

Say or think to yourself: "My name is _________. I am safe right now. I am _____ years old. I am currently at _____________. The date is _____________. If I need help, I am with ________/can call _________. Everything is going to be alright."

List reaffirming statements ("I am fine. Everything is going to be okay. I am strong. I can handle this.")

Ask yourself where you are, what day of the week it is, what day of the month it is, what month it is, what year it is, what season it is, how old you are, and other present-focused questions

Notice things in your surroundings that indicate to you that you're safe or that you're in the present (e.g., locks on your door, electronics that didn't exist when you were younger, the presence of trusted people, a phone so that you can call for help if you need it)

Describe your surroundings in detail, including sights (objects, textures, shapes, colors), sounds, smells, and temperature

Name five things that you see, four that you feel, three that you hear, and two that you smell or taste, and then name one good thing that you like about yourself

Pick four or five brightly colored objects that are easily visible and move your focus between them. Be sure to vary the order of your gaze and concentrate briefly on each one before moving to the next

Think about a fun time that you recently had with a friend or call that friend and ask them to talk about it with you

Sensory-Based Grounding Techniques

Run cool or warm (but not too cold or hot) water over your hands or take a cool or warm bath or shower

Spritz your face (with eyes closed), neck, arms, and hands with a fine water mist

Spray yourself with your favorite perfume and focus on the scent

Feel the weight of your body in your chair or on the floor and the weight of your clothing on your skin

Touch and hold objects around you. Compare the feel, weight, temperature, textures, colors, and materials

Keep a small object with you to touch or play with when you get triggered. Good examples include a smooth stone, a fidget toy, jewelry, or a tiny plushy

Bite into a lemon, orange, or lime, suck on a sour or minty candy or an ice cube, chew cinnamon-flavored gum, or put a few drops of Tabasco sauce on your tongue. Notice the flavor, scent, and texture

Eat something or drink warm tea, coffee, or hot chocolate, and describe to yourself the taste and texture in great detail

Place a cool wash cloth on your face or hold something cold like a can of soda

Listen to soothing or familiar music. If possible, dance to it

Hum, sing, recite poetry, or make up a silly poem or story as you go

Pick up a book and read the first paragraph out loud

Hug another person (if interpersonal touch isn't a trigger). Pay attention to your own pressure and the physical sensations of doing so

Hug a tree! Register the smells of being outside, the wind, and the sights around you

Movement-Based Grounding Techniques

Breathe deeply and slowly and count your breaths

Grab tightly onto your chair or press your feet against the ground as firmly as you can

Rub your palms and clap your hands or wiggle your toes within your socks. Pay attention to the physical sensation of doing so

Stretch out your arms or legs, roll your head on your neck, or clench and unclench your fists

Stomp your feet, walk around, run, jump, ride a bike, do jumping jacks, or do yoga

While walking, notice each footstep and say to yourself "right" and "left" to correspond with the foot currently moving

Squeeze a pillow, stuffed animal, or ball

If you have a soft pet (dog or cat), brush its fur and stroke it. If you don't, brush your own hair slowly and without pulling too much

Color in an adult coloring book, finger paint, or draw anything that comes to mind without worrying about quality

Write whatever comes to mind even if it's nonsense. Try not to write about whatever is upsetting you until you're more capable of doing so without increasing the upset

Write a list of things that make you happy or look for cheerful pictures to make into a collage

Pop bubble wrap or blow and pop actual bubbles

Dig in the dirt or garden, jump on a pile of leaves, or splash around in puddles or mud

Rip up paper or stomp on aluminum cans to crush them

Imagery Techniques

Picture yourself breathing in relaxation, calm, positive feelings, or strength. Picture yourself breathing out whatever is upsetting you. It may help to pair this with imagery of breathing in soothing colors (usually blue, purple, or green) and out more intense colors (usually red or black)

If you need to relax, envision a soothing white or golden light slowly moving up your body, warming and relaxing every part of you that it touches. You can also think of it as protecting you from negativity or from harm

If the problem is intense or uncomfortable emotions, physical sensations, or memories, picture them being surrounded and neutralized by a bright and healing light, temporarily placed in a mental box to be stored for later, or dialed back by an internal controller of intensity

If you have a clear mental picture of what's upsetting you, mentally change it to something silly or harmless. If you're a fan of Harry Potter, cast a mental "riddikulus" to banish the negativity

Picture yourself calm, focused, and able to tackle whatever problems you're facing. Focus on how that would feel in the moment. What would your expression and posture be like? Make whatever changes you need to in order to make your reality reflect your goal

How to Make a Grounding Box

Get a box or basket

Personalize and decorate it with construction paper, wrapping paper, ribbon, stickers, drawings, paint, photographs, glitter, sequins, or anything else that you like

Keep within it:

A list of grounding techniques that you know work for you

A list of positive affirmations and happy memories

A list of the contact information of trusted friends or family who are willing to help and support you

Small sensory objects such as: scented candles, perfumes, or lotions; hard candies or gum; soft fabrics, a stress ball, a stuffed animal, or a fidget toy; happy pictures of you with friends; a CD with relaxing music or meditation tracks. Try to cover all of the senses

A list of possible distractions such as books to read or movies to watch

Small portable distractions such as a pack of playing cards, a small game, or a joke book

A list of comforting things to do such as taking a bubble bath, snuggling up in bed, or meditating

A small journal or notebook

In the Case of a Flashback

Tell yourself that you are having a flashback and are safe now

Remind yourself that the worst is over, and you survived it. What you're feeling now is just a reminder of that trauma and does not fit the present moment

Remind yourself of when and where you are, who you're currently with, and who you can contact if you need help (use the reorientation-focused grounding techniques)

Breathe deeply and slowly. Count your breathes and make sure that you're getting enough air

Use other mental, sensory, movement, and imagery techniques in order to distract yourself, calm yourself, and reorient yourself within the present

If possible or necessary, go somewhere where you can be alone or with a close friend, where you will feel safe, or where you feel protected or shielded

If there is anyone who you can trust or who will support you, reach out to them, let them know what happened, and let them know what you need, what would be best for you, or what they could do to help

Be gentle with yourself and take the time to really recover. If what helps you to recover is to color, take a bubble bath, hug a stuffed animal, or watch a children's movie and if it would not be disruptive to do such things at that point in time, embrace those options whole-heartedly

If possible, note or write down what triggered the flashback, what techniques you tried to use to disrupt the flashback, and what techniques helped

[randomshyperson]

Hello, can I request a Modern AU Wanda x Female Reader with the song If You Asked Me To by Angeline Quinto? Where basically Wanda and R are in this middle area of not being official and on and off relationship because Wanda has had shitty ex’s that have cheated on her. And hopefully happy ending? :)

I followed your request, but I don't know if it was exactly what you expected hahaha I hope you like it anyway.

//-//

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - If You Asked Me To 

Part 2 (Smut Special)

Summary: Prompt request “ Modern AU Wanda x Female Reader with the song If You Asked Me To by Angeline Quinto? Where basically Wanda and R are in this middle area of not being official and on and off relationship because Wanda has had shitty ex’s that have cheated on her.” 

Words:  6.432K || Read on AO3

Warnings: Brief smut i think, cursing, mentions of drinking, a bit of angst, teasing, dirty talk, college au.

Marks:  @abimess​

//-//

You were very angry with your best friend.

Carol Danvers made you drive three hours to her university and her dorm, only to leave you locked out.

You were calling for the ninth or tenth time when the phone went to voicemail again and you resisted the urge to throw the phone away and left a new message.

"Carol, if you haven't had an accident, I'm going to strangle you when you get here." You grumbled against the device. "I'm at your dorm door, where the hell are you?"

You waited for another fifteen minutes before a redheaded girl approached you, clearly wanting to open the door.

"Can I help you?" She asked curiously, you let out a sigh.

"You must be Natasha, Carol told me about you." You say and the girl confirms with a nod. "I'm her friend from NYU, she just stood me up."

The girl laughed lightly as she unlocked the door. 

"No, she's just drunk in the building next door." She told you and you frowned. "Steve Rogers is having a party in the boys' dorm, and the last time I saw her, she was dancing on the table."

Natasha came into the room, beckoning you to follow her. She threw the bag she was carrying on the bed, and you threw your backpack on the bed that was supposed to be Carol's.

"I'm going to kill her." You grumble angrily, and Nat laughs. 

"Please don't do that, nice roommates are hard to find." She jokes, sitting down on the bed. You laugh, taking one last look at your cell phone. 

"Are you going to stick around?" You ask and the girl looks at you with a raised eyebrow.  "Carol had told me that you were going to sleep with your boyfriend or something, so the bed would be free." You clarify with flushed cheeks.

Nat bites her lips, slightly thoughtful.

"It's that option off." She comments. "We broke up tonight so."

"Damn, I'm sorry." 

"It's okay." She assures with a smile. "He was kind of a jerk. And I do prefer chicks anyway."

You nod, not really knowing what to say. Nat looks at you with squinted eyes.

"Are you into girls?" She asks suddenly and you feel your cheeks heat up.

"S-sure." You reply. "But I'm not interested in you." You say and she raises her eyebrows in surprise, and you hasten to add. "No, sorry. Damn it is... I didn't mean it like that... I.... You're pretty and all but.... I don't... " You start to ramble on and she crosses her arms, looking at you with an amused smile on her lips. You take a deep breath before responding more firmly. "I meant that I'm already dating someone."

Nat laughs.

"I don't see a ring."

You blush looking at your hands at the same moment, and then looking at her.

"I..."

"I'm just messing with you." She says next, and you sigh with relief. But then she has a mischievous expression next. "But if you want my advice, I would put on a ring. A pretty girl like you sometimes needs a chain."

You swallowed dryly, looking away quickly. And then the door opened, and your best friend stumbled drunkenly inside, and she was not alone.

"Wow, I didn't know there were people here" Complains a very pretty black girl holding your friend by the waist and slightly startled when she notices you. Carol had her back turned and blinked in surprise when she turned around, clearly drunk. You crossed your arms.

"Hey, I know you!" She laughingly commented pointing her finger at you. You rolled your eyes, not being able to stay mad at her like that. It was funny.

"Ah, I have one of those faces you know." You commented with a smile. "Or maybe it's the fucking picture of us on your headboard."

Carol looked at you for a second and then let out a surprised exclamation, throwing her arms around you.

"I can't believe you're here! I've missed you so much!" she exclaimed happily hugging you and you rolled your eyes, laughing at her inebriated state. You held out your hand to greet the other girl as Carol stood over you.

"You must be Maria, right?" you asked and she confirmed with a nod, half embarrassed. "I was hoping to meet you over coffee, but I guess this will do."

Maria laughs lightly, she too looks drunk. 

You sigh impatiently as you take Carol's arms off of you.

"We'll have a talk about commitment when you're sober, my sweet friend." You say to the blonde, who just smiles at you.

"Let's get something to drink while these two make out." Natasha comments getting up and pulling you by the hand. 

//-//

You both end up in the dorm cafeteria, and you rub your forehead lightly, feeling tired.

"Is there somewhere for me to sleep, around here?" You ask Nat as you sit down at one of the tables. "I really don't want to drive to a motel."

Nat stands thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"You can sleep in Maria's bed, since she's sleeping with Carol." She suggests and you sigh, taking a sip of the drink you bought from the machine. The coffee was not good, and you grimaced.

"God, that's awful." You comment and Nat laughs.

"Yeah, nobody ever orders that."

"And why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I love to mess with the NYU kids."

You look at her in surprise, but then you laugh and Nat follows you. 

"Fair enough." You grumble. The rivalry between the two colleges was not something unfamiliar to you.

"You might as well try Rogers' party." She starts with a suggestive smile. "Find a one-night stand, and get a bed to share."

You frown.

"I already told you I'm taken."

Nat laughs, taking a sip of her soda before speaking again.

"Yeah, and I'm not buying it."

You laugh, running your hands through your hair. Then you pull your cell phone out of your jacket pocket, and look for a picture in your gallery. You sigh when you don't find what you're looking for.

"Okay, I don't have any pictures with her, but that doesn't mean I'm lying..."

Nat laughs, placing the drink on the table and reaching for your cell phone, turning it over to herself. A picture of a redheaded girl on the glass screen.

"She's pretty." Nat comments. "Why don't you have pictures?"

You sigh, deciding if you should share with someone you just met. From what Carol said, Natasha was a nice girl. And honestly, you already liked her.

"We're not an official thing yet." You say shrugging, and putting your cell phone away, then putting your hands in your pockets. "Well, we are a thing. I'm just not sure what."

"Wow, that's trouble." She comments. "This kind of thing usually ends with everyone getting hurt."

"Yeah, I know." You mumble half annoyed. "But that it's temporary. We just need to connect properly, and everything will work out."

Nat looks at you with an insinuating smile.

"Someone is very much in love." She scoffs and you shrug, blushing. "That explains your gay panic earlier when I flirted with you."

You laugh sheepishly.

"Shut up."

//-//

You become friends with Natasha Romanoff after that. And now, almost three months later, you are single. Again.

"You know what, Wanda, do whatever you want." You retort angrily before slamming the door on your way out.

The first place you end up is in the outdoor area of the campus, sitting under one of the trees with your eyes closed.

"You young people are so dramatic." You hear a female voice comment wryly and open your eyes to face Professor Harkness, who teaches Social Psychology, standing in front of you with her hands in the pockets of her cardigan. She was probably one of the most controversial people you knew, impeccable teacher, but with questionable jokes. You liked her however.

"Hi, Mrs. Harkness." You mumbled.

"May I ask why you are striking the pose of the dramatic hero in a romance film? There are literally dry leaves falling all around you." She teases with a smile, you chuckle lightly.

"It's nothing, Mrs. Harkness." You tell her and she makes a slight movement with her head, indicating for you to walk with her. You sigh before standing up.

"I was talking to Principal Okoye at the entrance to the girls' dorm about the new coffee machines they installed in the teachers' lounge, and I, as well as the rest of the dorm, overheard your little disagreement with Miss Maximoff." She told as you walked side by side. You bit the inside of your cheeks, embarrassed. "Of course, my concern is that your grades will be affected by this conflict."

You laugh lightly, staring at the path in front of you. Mrs. Harkness was known for getting involved in the personal dramas of the students, and seemed to get a good kick out of it. You sighed lightly.

"Wanda and I are taking a break." You counters, and Harkness gives a chuckle.

"Young people, and these new forms of relationships." She retorts. "In my day we had one date and we were already getting married!"

"Is that why you divorced Professor Bohner?" You retort and Harkness seems impressed that you strike back, but laughs.

"Don't be a smart-ass, huh?" 

You laugh, shaking your head slightly. A moment later, Agatha speaks again.

"Maybe I'm not in my position to comment, but I'm going to bring it up anyway." She begins. "I've noticed that you get especially quiet in my classes when you have some disagreement with Mrs.Maximoff, which is a shame, since I love the debates you bring to my class."

"I'm really starting to believe that all this talk is about the subject matter." You retort with a smile and you stop walking at a crossroads. The teacher smiles at you.

"Next week we're going to have an important test." She says. "Maybe you two should work things out between yourselves so that it doesn't affect your grades."

"Thanks for the warning, Ms.Harkness." You comment with an embarrassed smile.

She nods before walking toward the main building. You head in the opposite direction, thinking about spending some time in the game room.

//-//

You are playing pool when Tony Stark joins you. Resisting the urge to use the stick on his face instead of the ball, you take a deep breath and play.

"What's up, Y/N?" He asks with a cocky little smile and you roll your eyes. From the timing and the annoying way rumors were spreading around the university, he should have heard about your little disagreement with Wanda.

"I'd watch your next words if I were you, Stark." You mumble menacingly. "I'm the one holding a bat."

He laughs, raising his hands in surrender for a moment. A drink that should be whiskey dangling between his fingers.

"I came here as a friend." He retorts and you watch the table, waiting for your partner, Clint Barton, to make his move.

"We're not friends." You say and Stark laughs again, making an expression of fake offense that makes you roll your eyes in impatience. "What do you want?”

"A favor."

"God must be testing me." You say bending down to make your move in the game. Stark smiles realizing that you will listen to what he has to say.

"I'm having a party on Saturday." He begins and you walk around the table. "I wish your friend Pepper was there."

"Do I look like a cupid, Stark?" You retort impatiently. "Even more so for someone like you. I wouldn't do that to Pepper."

Stark laughs awkwardly.

"Hey, come on." He says. "This story again? I already apologized, it's water under the bridge."

You grip the bat tightly, looking at Stark angrily, and he sighs. "Look, I'm not like that anymore, okay?" he continues. "Pepper is a nice girl, and I'm trying to get serious with her, but she blocked me and I can't invite her to a party."

"You're ridiculous." You comment impatiently. "Knowing you, you'll hound me until I say yes. Tell you what, I'll tell Pepper you're having a party, and you don't talk to me for the next year, okay?"

Tony let out an exclamation of celebration and rushed to give you a kiss on the cheek before quickly pulling away before you slapped him. He ran outside, waving and laughing.

"You know, I'm still amazed at how cool you can be." Clint comments as you turn your attention back to the game. You blink in confusion.

"Why do you say that?"

"I would have killed Tony if he had done what he did to Wanda to Laura." He says as you play along. "I think it's pretty mature the way you both went through it, and you forgave him despite everything."

You shake your head.

"He didn't do anything to me, I have nothing to forgive." You retort. "I've known him since he was a kid, and he's always been a jerk." You say. "After what happened, I was very angry. But then time passed, and he's just a colleague now. If he leaves me alone, I have no reason to fight with him."

"Yet here you are arranging a date for him." 

You let out a chuckle.

"Oh, yeah." You say. "How long before Tony finds out that Pepper is engaged, I wonder."

Clint blinks and then lets out a laugh.

"I'm impressed."

"Don't be." You say. "The best advantage of that story is that he won't talk to me for a whole year."

Clint laughs and you two play in silence.

When you finish, with him winning by a few points, it is you who pays the bill as you both bet.

On the way out, Laura calls him, and you go back to your dorm.

//-//

You skip the first period on Friday, Art History, because you sleep too much after staying up at dawn re-reading your messages with Wanda.

It's frustrating the way you can't get her out of your head.

Stumbling out of your bed, you are still yawning when you get out of the shower, and then you put on your first set of sweatshirts and leave for your next class.

Professor Harkness is already in the classroom when you enter.

You look at Wanda, already seated in one of the back seats when you sit down, but she quickly looks away from you.

"Dears, today I've brought a very relevant topic for our end-of-semester paper" Agatha begins as everyone sits down, and the bell rings. She has a twinkle in her eyes that makes you frown. "Let's talk a little about relationships today."

You look at the teacher in disbelief, and Harkness actually had the audacity to throw you a little smile before turning on the slides.

Sighing, you laid your head on one of your arms, starting to make some notes, knowing that this was going to be a long and awkward lesson.

"And so we can conclude that setting boundaries turns out to be a crucial part of a healthy relationship." Said Professor Harkness many minutes later. You were drawing a small doll with your pencil on the sheet and were startled when she called your name next. "Honey, I wanted your opinion on this topic."

You blinked in confusion, shaking your head slightly. Looking forward, you noticed that Agatha was pointing to the slide. The topic was "How to avoid fights and emotional fallout in a relationship?"

You mumbled to yourself that it was a great question, and Agatha asked you to speak up.

Blushing a little, you took a deep breath, trying to think of a decent answer.

"I would say that communication is one of the most important steps, Ms. Harkness." You answer then Agatha smiles at you.

"Yes, that is correct." She says. "And talking is the key. Not arguing, or accusing. Or offend. Talk."

You risk looking behind you and blush when you find Wanda already looking at you. You quickly turn your head forward. This is so childish, you think, trying to turn your attention back to class.

//-//

After your last period, you want to sleep. But there is a flood in the ladies' room and the dormitory is in absolute chaos, and it is also very hot, so you are heading outside two minutes after you have arrived in your room.

Your roommate, Darcy Lewis, catches up with you outside, extending a cigarette to you, but you refuse with a nod, though you stand beside her.

"I haven't seen you in a few days, is everything okay?" She asks casually between puffs. You shrug, and she smiles. "Let me guess, Wanda?"

"I'm so predictable, right?" you retort and she laughs.

"No, you're just in love."

You let out a dry laugh, looking at the small crowd of girls waiting for the bathroom flood to be cleaned up by the cleaning crew outside. 

"What's the deal with you guys, anyway?" Darcy asks with a frown. "Everyone has seen you two exchanging kisses in the same number that you''ve exchanged screams."

You run your hand through your hair, pulling the strands out of front of your eyes.

"We have too much history, that's all." You say. "Wanda doesn't quite know how she wants us to happen, and so we fight."

"Shit, that's sucks." She comments taking a long drag. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders.

"Yeah, it is what it is, sister." You retort. "She's got me tied up like a puppy while she decides what she wants to do."

Darcy is thoughtful for a moment, and then she puts out her cigarette.

"Look, you're a nice girl, and we've shared the same room for three years. I like you. " She begins, and you look at her curiously. "I think I can help you."

"Okay?"

"You know, I used to have a fling with a friend in high school, Jane, but she never let things be official between us, you know? Like she put me on hold mode." She tells you and you nod in understanding. "That just hurt me, until I took action."

"What did you do?"

"An ultimatum of course!" She says. "You need to confront her! If not, she will continue to think she can throw you over the edge whenever she wants. And you can't back down, you hear me? Or things could get worse."

You sigh, putting your hands in your pockets.

"I'm not very good with conflict." You say and Darcy puts her hand on your shoulder. 

"Come on, you can do it." She tries to encourage you with a smile. Seeing your lack of reaction, she adds with a grin. "You can always make her jealous too."

"What?" 

"Actually, she's looking over here with a deadly stare so I think you're already on this path." Darcy comments and you look back, only to catch a glimpse of Wanda's angry gaze before she turns and walks away from the dormitory. You let out a sigh.

"Shit." You say turning to Darcy quickly just to say goodbye, before running after the redhead. Darcy says something about "good luck" but you don't turn around.

//-//

You catch up with Wanda in one of the outside gardens, even from your back, you can practically feel her irritation.

"Will you please stop running?" You ask aloud, trying to catch up, and she finally stops, turning around with her arms crossed and an annoyed expression.

"What do you want?"

"Wanda, I was just talking to Darcy..."

Wanda lets out a dry laugh, her eyes glittering with irritation.

"I should have known you'd be like everyone else." She grumbles and you sigh, putting your hands in your pockets.

"Don't say that, Wanda." You say with weariness in your voice. "You know that's not true."

Wanda rolls her eyes, tears welling up in her eyes, and you refuse the urge to wipe them away, deciding that you two needed to talk.

"It doesn't matter." She retorts angrily. "We're done anyway."

"Enough." You interrupt her and she looks at you in surprise. "Enough of this whole taking a break, or breaking up for two or three days only for you to have me come back to your door and apologize for something that wasn't my fault."

"Wow, you really do remember things the way you want to."

You let out a dry laugh, taking one of your hands out of your pocket to run them through your hair nervously. 

"Wanda, I'm serious." You warn her. "I'm not doing this anymore. This game where you put me on hold for when you're in the mood. I have feelings, I can't do this any longer."

Wanda gasps with incredulity.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about." You retort angrily. "I am not your toy! I love you! I'm not going to be your compensation prize for when you're bored." You shout, and Wanda blinks in surprise. "Either we're for real, or we're nothing."

"I don't..." She starts and then shakes her head, trying to pull herself together. "You know what I went through... we... I told you how hard it is to trust..."

"Wanda, enough." You interrupt her, "That's exactly what I'm saying. You always use the same excuses to make me feel guilty about demanding anything." You count and she shakes her head in denial, but you don't stop. "I know exactly what you've been through, because I listen to you. I'm not like Vision, or Tony, or any of the other assholes you went out with." You say and Wanda lowers her head. "I take care of you, I don't lie, or hide things. I talk, and I listen, and I love you the best way I can. And you push me aside. I can't do that anymore." You say feeling your own eyes fill with water. "So I need an answer now."

"What?"

"Wanda." You call out to her, but she just stares at you with her mouth open, as if she is trying to think of something to say, but nothing comes out. You feel your tears run down. "Okay. I guess I have my answer then."

Wiping your tears away, you turn around, walking away. Wanda calls out to you, but you're done.

//-//

For three weeks now, your social life has been all about fictional characters.

Your real friends called and texted you, but you left your cell phone on silent and tried not to fail your exams, while you spent all your free time in your room, whining while watching romantic movies where things worked out in the end, unlike what happened to you.

And then Carol Danvers appeared in you bedroom.

"You've got to be kidding me." She grumbled when Darcy opened the door, and she found you wrapped in a blanket, lying on the bed and staring at nothing.

"Hi, Carol." You greeted her without moving.

"Nat began to worry that you were dead." She commented sitting up in your bed, "But you were just being dramatic."

"Yes, I intend to keep it going like this." You retort pulling the blanket up over your head.

"Wow, I thought your worst was when you guys were fighting, but you really hit misery when you broke up with her." Carol said and you whined at the mention.

"Please talk about something else."

Carol rolled her eyes as she pulled on the blanket.

"We're going out." She announces as you grumble as you feel the blanket being pulled completely off.

Forty minutes later, you have showered, and put on comfortable clothes, as well as accepted the two glasses of water Carol gave you.

"Nat and her new boyfriend are meeting us at the gallery on Avenue Two." Carol tells you as she checks her cell phone. "Maria is going too, and she's bringing a friend."

You grumble in agreement and suddenly stop walking.

"Are you trying to set me up on a date?"

Carol laughs. 

"I totally would, but no." She says."Monica is straight, and you're in the emotional cesspool, so I told Maria to bring someone so you wouldn't be the third wheel since we're in couples. Try to smile a little."

You roll your eyes, but don't reject that Carol has entwined her arm in yours as you walk toward the parking lots.

//-//

Meeting Monica turns out to be very nice after all.

You have many interests in common, and she is very intelligent and sarcastic, you enjoy her jokes.

Your outing with your friends brings a little cheer to you, and you find yourself laughing easily.

And then, when you are driving back to NYU, Monica mentions the boy she is talking to and you choke when you hear the name Maximoff.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you're dating Pietro!" Exclaims Carol in surprise as she drives you back. You are in the passenger seat, and Monica and Maria are in the back seat. Nat and Bruce, her boyfriend whom you met on the ride, went back to school on her motorcycle. "What a small world."

"I want to die." You grumble against the window, and Carol slaps you on the shoulder while Monica and Maria have confused expressions.

"Her girlfriend, damn, ex-girlfriend is Pietro's twin sister." Carol clarifies and the girls let out a noise of understanding. "How did you meet him, Mon?"

"I participated in the interclass program we had last semester between NYU and our university." She counted with a smile. "We talked for a few weeks, and he asked me out."

"Wow, what a coincidence." Carol says and you sigh, wishing you were back in bed.

"I had no idea Wanda had a girlfriend, Pietro didn't tell me."

You close your eyes, resting your head on the glass. Carol looked at you quickly, biting her lips, before she decided to speak.

"Yeah, well. Wanda wasn't exactly willing to make it all official..." She starts and you fight the urge to jump out of the car. "It was the reason for the breakup actually."

"Damn, I'm sorry." Monica said looking away from Carol to your reflection in the glass, but you kept your eyes closed. 

Seeing the worried expression Monica cast at you, Carol added.

"Don't worry about her, honey. She likes to put on drama." Said the blonde. "She's pretending she's in a sad music video, that’s why we left the radio on."

"I hate you." You mumble to Carol and she lets out a giggle.

"I guess your invitation won't be a good idea then, Mon." Maria remarks next and Carol looks at them curiously through the rearview mirror.

"What invitation, girls?"

Monica exchanges a look with Maria before speaking.

"Pietro is on the NYU soccer team, and he asked me to watch the final game." She says. "It's pretty important, because that's where a lot of future players come out of there with contracts."

"Wow, that sounds really important." Carol comments with a smile. 

"Anyway, he said it would be cool if I brought some friends along." She recounts. "He would like to meet my friends, and he would like me to meet his."

"That's awesome!" Carol exclaims happily. "Don't worry, we'll all be there cheering for Pietro."

The sentence makes you open your eyes and frown. But before you can say anything, Carol nods and repeats, "All of us."

//-//

Bad, bloody bad idea.

Fucking terrible idea.

You repeated these thoughts as you walked toward Carol, waiting for you at the entrance to the NYU soccer stadium, completely packed with students even though there were still forty minutes before the game started.

Carol was also wearing a set of jeans, and made a kind note about your outfit, but you just nodded, your thoughts elsewhere.

You met up with Maria, Nat and Bruce at the food booths, and you were glad to see your friends again after so many days.

"Ah, there's Monica coming." Said Maria with a smile waving to the girl through the crowd. The group looked on, and you swallowed dryly as Monica moved, and you noticed Pietro next to her, and then further back his group of friends, and his sister.

"I can't do this." You grumbled to Carol, and she looked at you with concern.

"Breathe." She asked softly as they approached. "You'll be fine, whatever happens just pretend she doesn't exist."

When the group reached you, you all smiled politely. You wanted to dig a hole in the ground when your gaze quickly met Wanda's, and your stomach churned, but you just waved nicely, and greeted everyone.

Soon you were all walking together to the stands. You wished you could stay the whole way with Carol, but she was chatting animatedly with Maria, and you stayed behind, avoiding walking with Wanda.

Pietro, and two of his friends, Bucky and Sam, also went to the locker room with him and the rest of the group went up to the bleacher seats.

You grumbled softly when you had to sit next to Wanda, hoping that your face wasn't too flushed. At least you were in the last chair with quick access to the corridor. To get away in case anything went wrong.

After everyone passed the food around, and you exchanged a few embarrassed glances with the redhead next to you when she passed you some soda, the game began.

It was an understatement to say that you weren't paying attention at all.

//-//

At halftime of the second half, Wanda commented that she wanted more snacks. And she could have simply asked you to excuse her, but she put her hand on your thigh instead, and you sighed in surprise and something else while you melted against your seat, and blushed profusely when she looked at you wide-eyed.

"I..." She started but you just started to get up.

"I'll buy it, I got it." You mumbled clumsily rushing to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Your legs were still shaking a little when you reached the food stalls.

Pulling your cell phone from your pocket, you typed a message to Carol that you were on the verge of emotional collapse and needed to leave. And without waiting for her to respond, you left the stadium.

//-//

NYU won the match. And Pietro got a contract to play for a famous team.

You heard about this from Maria the next day, because Carol wasn't talking to you.

She was very upset that you weren't opening up to her anymore, you knew it wasn't just because of the game.

You sent her an apology audio before the Literature class, and promised that you would be a reliable friend again.

During the lunch break, you went back to your dorm, intending to study a little.

"Hey." You greeted Darcy as you entered, she took off her headphones.

"Hey, pal." She retorted getting up and walking over to the bookshelf as you sat on the bed and threw your backpack on top of the sheet. "Your girl left some stuff for you." She warned as she picked up a book. You figured she must be studying for one of the surprise exams Professor Xavier used to pass around the class, and Darcy always remarked to you.

You blinked in surprise, and looked around. There was a small pile of things on your bed that you hadn't noticed before.

Shifting on the mattress, you began to look at the items.

You rolled your eyes at what Wanda decided to return. Some things were yours, like the NYU sweatshirt, and the cassette tapes, but there were also items that you had given her as gifts. Grabbing the bracelet you gave her for her birthday, the scarf you bought her for Christmas, and the book you got autographed by the author just for her, you left the room. Darcy didn't ask.

//-//

Wanda answered the door in confusion. You had a slightly annoyed expression.

"I can't believe you returned my gifts." You said walking into the room without waiting for her to pass. She mumbled an ironic "come in" afterwards.

You threw the items on her bed as she closed the door. You didn't notice that she locked it.

"I know we broke up, but that was cruel!" You said. "I gave those gifts to you, and you gave them back like they were nothing, I didn't..."

"I didn't give them back." She interrupted, twisting her fingers slightly, You frowned confused, "I wanted you to come talk to me."

You blink in surprise, feeling all the anger leave you at once. Shifting your weight between your feet, you cross your arms.

"What do you want, Wanda?"

"You." She confesses breathlessly and you frown in surprise, feeling your face heat up. She lets out a chuckle, running a hand through her hair. "I just... I want to apologize first." She begins. "I acted like a complete idiot, and I was so afraid of you hurting me that I did it to you first. And I'm sorry."

You looked at the floor afterwards, not knowing exactly what to say as you felt your heart racing. Wanda continued to speak.

"It's just... I swore I wasn't going to get involved with anyone after so many lies and betrayals." She said. "And then I met you. And you were sweet and kind, and so warm. And I didn't know how to handle all this love, because nobody ever treated me like that."

"Wanda..."

"No. I need to say." She interrupts with a tender smile. "You need to know that I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to do that. I was just scared."

You nod in understanding, swallowing dryly. 

"I know." You say. "Damn it, I know. I just... I just wanted you to understand that I will never do what they did to you."

Wanda steps forward, and you don't back down.

"I trust you." She said. "I know you won't. I want to make this work."

You sighed.

"A-are you sure?"

"You are the best thing that has happened to me since I left high school." She confesses with a shy smile. "I don't want to lose you. I want to live this, even if I'm terrified."

You smile, moving closer to Wanda to caress her cheeks.

"No need to be afraid, baby." You say gently. "I'll look after you."

Wanda smiled and hugged you by the shoulders. You sighed as you wrapped your arms around her waist.

She broke the embrace a moment later, however, bringing your mouths together in a sweet kiss.

God, you missed her lips so much.

Resting your foreheads together, you smiled and then kissed her again, more intensely this time.

Wanda sighed, then your head was spinning, and all the hard-on from spending weeks apart came back at once, and you were pushing her against the first surface you could find, a bookshelf.

She let out a mixed groan of pain and pleasure as she felt her back hit the wood, but she was back to kissing you passionately the next second.

"Did you miss me?" she whispered breathlessly against your lips, scratching the scalp of the back of your neck, you grunted, feeling her warm body.

"Did you miss me?" you retorted, trailing kisses down against her collarbone as your hands moved up the inside of her blouse.

"Yes." She confessed in a husky voice, closing her eyes tightly as you bit a sensitive spot on her neck.

"How much honey?" You asked as you reached for her breasts, squeezing the flesh through her bra and making her moan and throw her head back.

"So much, babe." She whimpered as you began to play with her nipples between your fingers. And then she nibbled on your ear, whispering breathlessly. "I played with myself only thinking of you."

You gasped, feeling a tightness under your belly. You stepped forward against Wanda, taking her in your lap, and she let out a surprised exclamation, but soon you carried her to the bed, lying on top of her only to capture your lips in an intense kiss.

Leaving your thigh between her legs, it wasn't long before Wanda began to squirm beneath you, your tongues dancing together in a slow, sensual kiss.

As your hand began to play with the buttons of Wanda's jeans, you heard the lock click and let out a mutter of dissatisfaction as you threw yourself to the side, releasing Wanda, who blinked in confusion at the sudden lack of contact and opened her mouth to complain, but shut up when her roommate entered next.

"Wanda, why did you lock the door... Wow hello" Said the girl with a mixed look of surprise and mischief. 

You cleared your throat, feeling hot and bothered as you sat up.

"Sorry to crash the party girls, but there wasn't a sock in the door." Continued the girl as she placed her belongings on her own bed.

"All right, Harley." Wanda said in a husky voice, exchanging a quick glance with you. 

"Besides, we have a test now Wands." The girl comments with a smile. "I imagine you forgot."

You let out a giggle as Wanda blinks in surprise with a flushed face.

"Damn right." She grumbles getting up, and straightening her crumpled clothes. You sigh, getting up as well.

Wanda exchanges a look with her colleague as she escorts you out.

"Call me when you're done, we can watch a movie." You say as you leave the room. Wanda bites her lips, denying it with her head. Before you can ask, she brings her face close to your ear and whispers:

"I can’t wait to come in your mouth."

"Fuck, Wanda." You grumble feeling your face heat up and the tightness below your stomach ache. But you do nothing, noticing Harley's curious gaze on you from inside the room, not to mention on the people around the hallway.

Wanda walks away with an innocent smile, looking at you fondly.

"I'll come to your dorm when I'm done with the test. " She says and you nod. Wanda places a short kiss on your lips and you chase after her face, feeling her smile on your lips as you kiss her firmer this time.

But it doesn't last long and you break away, smiling one last time before turning away. 

You wonder what your best friend's reaction will be when you tell her you two were dating again.

[bunnysuit-femboy]

Slumber Party

Pairing: Sasha x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: Implied Praise Kink, Cunnilingus

Quick Summary: Sleepover with Sasha turns sexual.

Notes: This was inspired by the song Slumber Party by Ashnikko, I hope you guys enjoy!

6:13 PM

Your feet ran down the stairs quicker than you could keep up with after you heard the familiar ding of the doorbell. You ran through your living room, and right to the front door. You knew who waited on the other side - since she waited there every Friday night - but you were still filled with excitement at finally seeing her again.

Once you had unlocked the door handle, you swung the door open immediately, taking no time to think about what you were doing. Light flooded in from the outside, the sun setting in the distance and Sasha’s shadow laid on the living room’s carpeted floor.

Sasha stood in front of you with her duffel bag over one shoulder and her phone in the opposite hand. She wore jean shorts - since today had been one of the hottest days all summer - and a grey tank top. She also wore a pair of flip flops with a bright blue anklet around her pale ankle.

Sasha glanced up from the messages open on her phone, “Hi.”

You smiled wide at your best friend, “Hi.” Sasha quickly locked her phone and dropped her bag, opening her arms wide for you and you walked forward to accept the hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. We haven’t seen each other in like-” Sasha took a second to think about her next words- “Two days?”

“Three,” You said against her shoulder, “If you don’t count our FaceTime calls.”

“Right,��� Sasha said into your hair, “‘Cause if we were counting those, I saw you two hours ago.”

You took a step back from Sasha, “Well, I needed somebody to tell me my makeup was pretty.”

“That’s not fair.” Sasha grinned. “You always look pretty.”

You playfully pushed Sasha’s shoulder, trying to distract her from seeing your obviously embarrassed face. Your face and ears were heating up with blood and you couldn’t wipe the wide smile from your mouth. You didn’t want your best friend to see how physically embarrassed you got from hearing her compliment you; you refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing how high you hold her opinion.

It wasn’t strange to hear Sasha compliment you - in fact, it would have been weirder if she hadn’t complimented you - but hearing Sasha say a sweet word about your person always made you crawl back into your metaphorical hermit shell. You never knew how to respond to Sasha’s kind words about your appearance because they always felt genuine instead of a way of being generally nice.

“I was thinking we could order pizza later,” You said, “And I have ice cream in the freezer and I made sure to buy some soda for you-”

“Did you remember my favorite kind?” Sasha’s face was taken up mostly with a wide smile as she awaited your answer.

“Of course.” You grinned softly to the brown haired girl in front of you. “I always remember everything you tell me.”

Sasha giggled before taking your distance from the door as a way of entrance. She walked inside the apartment she’s been to a million times. But, this time felt different almost - as if she could feel the impending series of events for the next day and a half playing out in front of her already.

8:47 PM

“Well,” You said as your hips shifted closer to her hips, “If you stop squirming, then it won’t be so hard to get the eyeliner just right. Got it?”

Sasha furrowed her already filled eyebrows at you, “But, I have a cramp in my hip. I can’t not shift when all I’m feeling on my left side is pure pain.”

It wasn’t completely a lie, Sasha was in pain but not exactly how she had disclosed to you. Sasha could feel her stomach inflating with nerves the longer you leaned in to be so close to her. She was used to you deciding to do activities in the spur of a moment, but she wasn’t expecting you to beg her to let you do her makeup if she showed you that picture - she wasn’t really sure why you chose this way to do her makeup either.

Usually, when a person gets their makeup done, the makeup artist will be sitting right beside them, leaning in close and getting everything just right. Which is not at all what you’re doing at the moment, you’re leaning in close - sure, but that’s where the similarities in the two scenarios end.

You were sitting on Sasha’s hips atop of the neat covers of your bed. You were straddling her waist and pressing yourself deeper into her pelvis with each concentrated movement. She knows her hip doesn’t hurt as badly as she says - in fact, she could sit underneath you all day long if you’d have her - but, she feels her stomach flutter with butterflies the longer you’re on top of her, and she wishes she could touch you but she doesn’t know if the action will make you uncomfortable or not, so she doesn’t.

You sigh before picking up your hips from her hips, “I’ll move but I’m not finished with your makeup.”

“Huh?” Sasha asks with bright red cheeks and widened eyes. She thought complaining about her hip would surely make you scram but you almost seem determined to stay on top of her.

“Here.” You lifted your hips enough so that her’s could be free underneath you. You still straddled her sides, but now you situated your ass into the air and your shirt had shifted forward. Sasha wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she knew the situation had gotten worse - or maybe, better - for her. All she wanted now was either to look down your shirt, place her hands on your ass and grind you down into her or kiss you passionately from underneath you - but, she didn’t know how you’d feel about any of those options so she stays still in silent agony.

She closed her eyes when you asked, she blinked slowly when you asked, and she puckered her lips when you asked. And, even though she couldn’t do what she wanted to do, she still got a bit of pleasure every time she did as you asked. You’d make sure to tell her exactly how you felt about her submission, whispering praise into the space between your faces - each praise giving Sasha another thing to worry about between her hips.

11:24 PM

The blanket kept falling off of your shoulder, exposing the bare skin to the coldness of your living room. You snuggled your body in closer to Sasha, pressing the cold skin of your shoulder against her warm bicep. She leaned into your touch, gently laying her head on top of your own in order to trap your cheek to her body.

You could fall asleep where you sat, cuddled close to your best friend and barely listening to the distant sounds of the movie in front of you. The coldness of the room was working as melatonin to your already tired body. Your eyes fluttered closed, snapping open every few minutes once your mind realized you were starting to drift off.

“This is the best part,” Sasha suddenly said by your side. You nodded weakly against her arm which got Sasha’s attention. She glanced at you for a moment, watching you from the corner of her eyes. “Are you even watching?”

Sasha looked over to your partially open eyes looking up into her face through your thick eyelashes. You swallowed back the sleepiness that had crept so steadily upon you as you attempted to look awake. But, Sasha saw right through your poor facade, shaking your head from her shoulder with disappointment.

“You’re asleep!” Sasha turned to you, her eyes wide with shock. “But, this is the best part!”

“I’m sorry,” You groaned the words out, “I’m just so tired.”

Sasha pouted at you, “Do you not like the movie?”

“No.” Adrenaline shot through your body as you attempted to convince your best friend. “I- I really like this movie! I just need a cup of coffee or something! The movie’s really good, I swear.”

Sasha took a deep breath, “It’s too late for coffee.” Your eyes darted behind Sasha’s shoulder at the living room window. She was right, the moon was high in the sky and only darkness seeped in through the glass behind the curtains. Sasha's next words came out as a question, “But, it’s not too late for ice cream.”

Your eyes snapped back to Sasha’s filled with sudden excitement, “I do have ice cream.”

Sasha smiled wide, “Perfect!” She leaned over and grabbed the remote from the coffee table, swiftly pausing the movie.

You led Sasha from the living room and to the kitchen, and you could feel her eyes on your back as you walked. It was hard not to look at you, especially in the pieces of clothing you wore as pajamas. You walked around your apartment in a velvet pair of sleep shorts and a tank top that stopped right above your belly button, creating a stripe of soft skin between the hem of your shirt and the waist of your shorts.

You didn’t leave your apartment most nights, either by yourself or with Sasha. You preferred dressing scandalously to bed and cuddling deep into your blanket to keep your body warm. And, when Sasha slept over, you instead used each other’s body heat to keep warm during the night, snuggling close to each other under your thick blanket.

You felt Sasha’s gaze heavy on the skin of your back and then again as it moved to your hips and ass. She watched as your sides moved back and forth with each step. She stared mindlessly at the dimples that swayed on the small of your back.

You turned around to Sasha once you stood in the middle of the kitchen. Sasha’s gaze slowly found your face, instead running gently over the front of your body. Then, finally, Sasha’s light brown eyes stared into your own.

You looked away from Sasha’s peering eyes. Sometimes holding eye contact with her was too much for you, it all felt much too intense and overwhelming. Holding eye contact with her made your stomach turn with butterflies and made your mind go wild with random thoughts that you tried to ignore most days. Thoughts of something big happening, whether it be a long awaited simple kiss or an asteroid through the room you both sat in.

You instead stared at the tiled floor of the kitchen as she watched you, “I have rocky road and metropolitan.” You glanced back at Sasha to see her smiling at you. You furrowed your eyebrows at your best friend, trying to keep your body from feeling like static. “And sprinkles.”

Sasha grinned, “I’ll have some rocky road-” After you had turned around and walked off towards the fridge, Sasha added- “Oh, and with sprinkles on top.”

You grinned into the freezer, your skin erupting in goosebumps from the wandering cold air. You grabbed the two cartons of ice cream, placing them on the counter beside the fridge before walking towards the lazy Susan in which the sprinkles were.

You turned from the corner of the kitchen, now realizing the new obstacle in your way of the sprinkles. Sasha had found her normal spot in the kitchen, sitting on the counter above the lazy Susan. Her feet dangled in front of the cabinet, and her eyes watched you as you walked around the kitchen with a purpose.

You walked over to Sasha, grinning at her before glancing at the cabinet she sat in front of. You were hoping your best friend would get the message without you having to ask because you weren’t sure how to ask for permission between her legs without seemingly asking for everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Sash’,” You said sweetly, “Can I-?” You pointed at the lazy Susan, silently asking her the rest of the question.

All she did in response to your question was tilt her head and grin playfully. She seemed to be playing a game - and it made your heart skip a beat - but you weren’t completely sure if she was. You were crazily rash sometimes, but when it came to friendship, you wouldn’t take a risk unless it was a heavily calculated move.

“What’s up?” Sasha asked innocently.

You grinned, “I need in that cabinet-” Sasha glanced down at the cabinet and then back at you, all without moving her body. “The sprinkles are in there. I need between your legs.”

Oh shit, there it is, the words you didn’t want to have to say. You couldn’t help how uncomfortably hot your body got after saying them, shifting from one leg to the other as if that would cool yourself down. And, you wished you hadn’t seen Sasha’s sudden surprise at the request, her eyes widened and her mouth in a permanent smile.

“Oh,” Sasha said with a tone dripping with cockiness, “You need between my legs? Then, what’s the password?”

You stared at Sasha with squinted eyes, “You have a password for between your legs? Are you wearing a chastity belt or something?”

“I guess that’s the only thing that would make sense.” Sasha giggled before raising a single eyebrow at you. “But, what’s the password?”

“You were serious?” Sasha nodded before you started thinking about what this mysterious password could be. “Is it 0-7-2-6-0-1?”

Sasha raised her eyebrows, “Huh?”

“Is it the same as your phone password?”

Sasha grinned, “Oh-” Sasha looked around the kitchen for a few moments before finally answering. “No.”

You sighed and thought again about what Sasha could make as a spur of the moment password. Obviously she didn’t have a leg password before this moment, so it had to be something she made up on the spot. And, a lot was on the line for you knowing this vital part of information - not only would it prove how deeply you knew Sasha, but the damn ice cream was starting to melt.

“Okay,” You said as you crossed your arms against your chest. “I’m going to spitball some out, and you tell me if I get it right, okay?”

Sasha nodded, “Alright, deal.”

This game was harder than you originally thought it would be, maybe you didn’t know Sasha at all. You thought you’d be able to guess it almost immediately, you thought you knew nearly everything about the other girl. But, she must have the most obscure leg password ever, you wouldn’t be surprised if it were in a different language altogether.

“French fries,” Sasha shook her head. “Hamburgers,” Shake. “Sausage,” Shake. “Pork,” Shake. “Milkshake.” Shake. “Is it-?”

“Why are you only guessing menu items from a diner? I like other things, you know?”

You shrugged, “I know, you just really like diner food.”

She likes other things, huh? Sure, she likes food - more than anyone you’ve ever seen in your whole life. But, it must be something outside of food, what else does Sasha like?

She likes cats, and she likes hunting and fishing with her dad, and she likes roller coaster rides that go backwards. She likes a vast array of things, so to choose just one she would think of in the matter of a few seconds seemed almost impossible.

Except, there was one thing you knew she liked more than any of those other things. She talked about it all the time, from conversations that were progressively led to the subject to randomly texting you another fact long past the time you had gone to bed and she should have gone to bed as well. She talked about it almost all of the time, how could you forget?

It was alcohol, it had to be alcohol related!

So, you thought of anything under the category, anything at all. You thought of vodkas, and rums, and whiskies - but you know she prefers mixed drinks so you switched to those names. You couldn’t think of many drinks that would make sense as her password, except for maybe strawberry daiquiri - though, that one didn’t seem to be right.

In a second, you thought of the one drink she always asks for. She asks for them no matter who the bartender is, whether it’s Jean or Connie that week. She asks for them when she sees your bottle of peach liquor sitting on the floor of your closet. She even asks if you think a place will have them when you walk past a bar you can’t get into yet since you’re both underaged. It was the only drink that completely made sense for it to be her legs' password, she loved them too much.

In a moment of adrenaline pumping through your veins at the realization of what the password must be, you screamed the drink name louder than you needed to.

“Sex on my face!” You yelled, your body going hot with the realization of what you just shouted at your best friend.

Sasha raised her eyebrows at you, “You want me to what?”

You tried to laugh off the embarrassment, but it didn’t work properly. You instead decided to smile into your hands as you covered your face. This moment wouldn’t have been embarrassing if it were anybody else, there was just too much sexual tension between you and Sasha for this conversation to be normal.

“That’s my next guess, I’m guessing the password is sex on my face.” You took a deep breath between your palms, embarrassment finally settling in and even beginning to fade the longer you didn’t think about what happened.

“It’s not,” Sasha said with a grin. “But, it was a good guess, so go ahead.”

You nodded as Sasha jumped from the counter, allowing you access to the lazy Susan. You made the adventure quick, not wanting to dwell on what you said in order to be allowed to grab the sprinkles. It was even embarrassing to feel Sasha’s eyes on your body as you crouched over and into the cabinet, something that otherwise wouldn’t have openly bothered you much.

“Do you want to know my real password?” Sasha asked as you scooped the half-melted ice cream into a bowl. You nodded, not wanting to say much of anything after what happened. “My real password was peanuts, because you have peanuts on the counter.”

You glanced at the bag of peanuts near the sink and then back to the bowl. “I guess I shouldn’t have put much thought into it, since it took you a second to even think about it.”

“You were smart with the game,” Sasha admitted, “You thought of passwords I wouldn’t have thought of in a million years, but not smart enough, I guess-” There was a moment where the only thing that could be heard was the buzzing coming from the working fridge. “Even though I do love sex on my face - take that however you want to.”

You felt your body heat up again, even as Sasha walked away from beside you. Take that however you want to. Oh my god, was Sasha hitting on you?

2:22 AM

If you moved your foot just an inch to the right, you’d be able to feel Sasha’s shin. You almost wanted to move your foot forward and finally touch her. You wanted to scoot your body across your sheets, to feel her body close to yours and feel your skin ignite with a new passion you hadn’t let out in a very long time.

You opened your eyes to see Sasha’s brown eyes staring into your own. You grinned at the girl, feeling like speaking was the only way to eliminate the awkward tension now present in the air. Part of you wished her eyes hadn’t been open, you were okay with watching her in silence - something about her knowing you liked looking at her made your stomach turn with nerves.

“Hey,” You whispered into your partially dark bedroom, “Are you tired?”

Sasha shook her head against the pillow, smushing her cheek even deeper into the plushness, “Not even a little bit. How about you?”

You sighed, “Nope.”

The silence was back, but it wasn’t awkward like the last time - this was a new comfortable silence. In the moment, all you could do was watch Sasha and all she could do was watch you right back.

You wondered what the brown haired girl was thinking about. Your first assumption was food considering the girl’s eating habits, but after a second thought - you knew better than to guess that. You then assumed that maybe the girl was thinking of you.

Sasha was probably tossing and turning the idea of you in her head, or at least you hoped she was. You hoped she was thinking about the way you look right now with the moon shining in through the window behind you. And, you hoped she thought about how warm you felt on the couch, pressed up against her earlier. And, you hoped she thought about how warm you would feel underneath her, completely naked and-

Not now. You closed your eyes to hide the thoughts in your head, and you hoped covering your irises would keep Sasha from knowing what you were thinking about. Now wasn’t the time to think about your best friend that way, not when the option was so possible.

“Hey,” Sasha whispered into the quiet space between you, “What kind of car would you be, if you had to be one?”

You opened one of your eyes, “What?”

“You heard me.” Sasha grinned as she watched you think of the few types of cars you could actually name off of the top of your head. “I think I’d be a pickup truck-” Sasha ignored your loud snort- “Because I’m tall, kind of. And, I like carrying things, I don’t really know why - I guess I like being helpful. And, my dad’s got a farm, so it’s perfect.”

You smiled wide at Sasha, “Do you want to try again and maybe pick any other car on the planet?”

“What’s wrong with pickup trucks?” Sasha tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. “Pickup trucks are cool, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” You said sarcastically.

Sasha playfully pushed at your shoulder, “Alright, if I have to choose a different type of car, then I guess I’d be a-” Sasha took a second to think- “A tractor.”

“Shut up,” You spoke through a loud fit of laughter.

“I’m serious.” Sasha giggled with you. “I’d either be a pickup truck or a tractor - I mean it.”

“One,” You said with a grin, “Tractors aren’t even considered cars. And, two, no you wouldn’t be a tractor because they are loud and dirty and-” You shrugged- “Actually, that kind of works for you.”

“Hey!” Sasha's voice had gone up a few octaves for that one word. She pushed at your shoulder again, this time her hand lingering on your body.

You giggled, “You’re the one who said it, Sash’, I was only repeating it.” Sasha grinned at you, her hand still on your shoulder and now making its way down your bicep. “And, I think I’d be a mustang. One, I’m sleek and luxurious. And two, I like to go fast.”

“Really?” Sasha’s fingers drew invisible circles above your elbow. Her fingers were slender and warm and the circles were drawn in a smooth and consistent motion. “Could you have picked a more cliché type of car?”

You wrinkled your nose at the girl, “At least I chose a car.”

The room grew quiet again, but the silence was different from the last two times - neither awkward nor comfortable. Instead, the silence was full, like there were so many words being spoken into the space around you. The darkness of the room told each other your deepest, darkest secrets and part of you knew Sasha could hear your every thought that kept you awake at night.

She could hear what you thought about before eventually falling asleep. She could hear your mental grocery lists about the things you needed to pick up the next evening. And, she heard your mental relivings of memories you only thought about when nobody could see the pain written across your face. And, she heard the feelings you had bottled up for so long - feelings all about how badly you wanted to feel her hands all over your body.

And, what was so wrong with wanting your best friend on top of you, honestly? Everybody felt this way at least once in their lives. And, what was so wrong with finally going for it? Every single sexual or romantic relationship started with one of the people taking a chance, and it seemed you just had to be that person.

“Sasha,” You whispered into the dark space between both of your faces.

“Mhm,” Sasha mumbled back, her hand finally reaching your wrist.

You took a deep breath, “Do you ever think of me at night?”

Sasha grinned, “All of the time - why do you ask?”

Sasha’s fingers now found your palm, the tickling motion causing your own fingers to jump. Her hand was so warm against your hand, and you didn’t want her to stop touching you. You would prefer if she touched you all over your body, but you were willing to settle with just holding her hand in the darkness, if that’s all she wanted.

“Because,” You said with a smile, “I think about you too - at night, during the day, in the mornings, in my dreams - all of the time, like you said.”

Sasha’s fingers intertwined with your fingers, her palm resting gently against your own. Sasha didn’t need to say anything for you to suddenly hear her thoughts. She must have felt the same way considering her hand stayed against your own even when she leaned in to kiss you.

Sasha’s mouth was soft, and you could taste the ghost of her strawberry chapstick still on her lips. Her mouth moved gently at first, metaphorically testing the waters before diving in. Her kisses were merely innocent pecks for a moment, until she leaned back and whispered to your mouth.

“Was that what you think about all the time?” Sasha’s breath fanned across your face with her words.

You grinned to yourself, “I’ve thought about much more than just that.”

Sasha’s lips were back on yours, her mouth making up for wasted time. You had felt this way about her for as long as you’ve been her friend, and for just as long, she’s felt the exact same way. And finally, months longer than you’d have liked, Sasha is actually kissing you.

Sasha removes her hand from yours and instead brings them to your sides. She feels her way up your hips and ribs, her fingers gently tickling the skin she touches. Her fingertips play with the hem of your shirt and the waist of your shorts, teasing you with the idea of her removing your clothes from your body.

You moved your arms around her neck and brought her face closer to yours. Her tongue was warm when it swooped into your mouth, licking across the roof of your mouth in one swift movement. Her tongue was so warm and arousing in fact that she drew a soft gasp from your mouth which only encouraged her further.

Sasha’s hands found your hips just before you rolled up on your knee, now straddling her lap. You were in the same position as earlier, sitting gently on her hips as you lean downward towards her face. But, instead of carefully applying eyeliner to her eyelids, you now kissed Sasha so roughly that your front teeth chattered against her front teeth.

Sasha ran her hands over your hips and ass, touching the places she had wanted to, but didn’t, touch earlier. Her fingers moved gently against your thighs, digging her nails into the plush skin. Her hands pressed onward, hellbent on finding their ways under the bottoms of your sleep shorts.

You let out a short gasp when you felt Sasha’s smooth fingers find the soft fabric of your panties. She grinned once she felt your surprise and whispered into your mouth.

“Did I shock you?” Sasha asked with a smile, “Did you expect me not to touch you when you’re on top of me like this?”

You breathlessly mumbled against her mouth, “‘Guess I didn’t expect you to be so determined.”

“Let me show you just how determined I am.”

Sasha pulled on the bottom of your shirt and you raised your arms, letting her remove the fabric from your body. Sasha throws the shirt to the ground, taking in the new sight in front of her - you sitting on top of her in only your sleep shorts and panties. Sasha had seen you in a bikini and even in your bra plenty of times but nothing could have prepared her for how beautiful with a bare chest.

You leaned down and pecked Sasha before your mouth traveled past her mouth and down her body. You kissed her jaw, the side of her neck, and behind her ear. The kisses that you left on Sasha’s skin tickled her body, causing her to let out breathy pants and soft giggles from between her lips.

Sasha arched her back towards you before suddenly switching positions with you. She pushed you onto the bed beside her, your back now against the comforter you were formerly lying underneath. Sasha sat above you, leaning back on her calves on the right side of your legs.

Sasha quickly pulled her shirt from her body, throwing it thoughtlessly to the ground. You reached towards her, placing your hands gently against the smooth skin of her stomach. Your fingers slowly made their ways up her ribs and to her chest, letting your fingertips rub gentle shapes into the sensitive skin of her tits.

Sasha bent down towards you, pressing her lips to yours as your hands continued to palm her. Sasha moaned into your mouth in between kisses, feeling herself growing hotter with every second your hands were on her. Sasha moved an inch back from your lips, whispering heavily into your mouth.

“Can I taste you?” Sasha came back in for another kiss.

You nodded against her face, “Yes, please.”

Sasha moved back onto her calves, smiling down at you for a second before moving her hands to the waist of your shorts. She pulled your sleep shorts down your thighs and legs, shoving them off of the bed and out of the way.

Sasha moved in between your legs, wrapping her hands around your body before leaning down. She spread a kissing trail from your navel down to the waistband of your panties. And once she reached your panties, she looked up at you - silently asking for permission to proceed.

“Please.” That one word came out in a desperate squeak.

Sasha giggled into your body, “‘You really that excited for me?”

Sasha slowly pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor as well. You felt the heartbeat between your legs pound as Sasha kissed slowly down your leg: a peck to your ankle, to your calf, to the side of your knee, to the inside of your thigh and finally to the most sensitive skin right beside her destination.

A loud moan erupted from your mouth when Sasha’s mouth found the place you needed her most. Her tongue licked against the slick that had collected in the area, drinking it into her mouth which only caused you to create more. Sasha’s mouth moved expertly between your legs, her tongue moving itself in and out and around your entrance.

You arched your back into the air as Sasha’s hands moved from your back to your ass and hips. She moved her fingers against your hips bones, squeezing the skin and pulling your body closer to her mouth until your thighs were practically suffocating her. But, Sasha didn’t stop, the possibility of death only encouraged her further - Sasha supposed if she had to die anywhere, she’d prefer to die between your thighs and tongue deep in your pussy.

Deep within your folds, Sasha used her tongue to write the same thing over and over again. Silently communicating with you through her movements, and even marking the area as her own. S-A-S-H-A, her tongue spelled out her name for you, each time driving you closer and closer to your orgasm, S-A-S-H-A.

You felt your legs shake on either side of Sasha’s face, your whole body jumping with arousal. You pushed your fingers into Sasha’s hair, fisting the strands into your palm in an attempt to alleviate the pressure growing in your stomach. Sasha moaned into your pussy, aroused by the idea of just how much pleasure she was giving you.

The growing pressure in your stomach started spreading to your entire body, causing your hips to buck forward from your impending orgasm. You pushed Sasha’s face deeper into your body, silently influencing her to continue exactly what she was doing. All it took was one more swoop of her tongue and you were unraveling into her mouth.

Sasha licked up every single drop of wetness, slowly bringing you back down from your high. Sasha sat up from between your legs, looking at you from where she sat on her calves. She grinned at you, her chin and cheeks drenched in what remained of your orgasm.

“So,” Sasha said with a large smile, “How was that?”

You giggled breathlessly into your hands, suddenly feeling the need to cover your face. All you could remember was just how loud you got while she was between your legs, the room echoed with the sounds of every moan that came from between your lips. You felt embarrassed by just how much you enjoyed Sasha’s tongue because what if she now knew how much you like her?

Sasha’s hands gently removed your palms from your face. You looked intently into her eyes and cursed just how deeply the other girl knew you. She’s your best friend and a good one at that, of course she can read the embarrassment written so obviously across your face.

“Hey,” Sasha said delicately, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, babe. I enjoyed it just as much as you did.”

You sighed, “How about I give you something to enjoy? Wanna’ let me return the favor?”

“Oh?” Sasha raised a single eyebrow at you. “Hell yeah.”

You pushed Sasha into the bed the same way she had to you. You placed your thigh between her legs, pressing down into her before giving her a passionate kiss. Sasha groaned against your lips which only encouraged you to give her just as much pleasure she gave you. You stayed up all night with her, your lips against her lips and your thigh between her legs as you drank down every moan she gave you until the sun eventually came up on the other side of your bedroom window.

[thetriggeredhappy]

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

-

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

-

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

-

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently. 
And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

��Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

-

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

-

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”

“What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

-

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 38

  PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: angst, smut (18+), oral (male receiving), handjob, slight innocence kink 

A/N: not me still not fully recovered from the “you wanna see what i can do with leverage” moment. oof, still gets me heated up. anyway, this smut was mostly inspired by my pinterest board showing me this and this which i feel would be something y/n would wear for bucky. enjoy xx 

NEXT CHAPTER

She didn’t know she was running, but she was. She ran off that room before he could catch up to her but through the middle of her thoughts she could hear him yell out for her and run after her. Maybe it was an adrenaline rush, the thought of getting severely hurt or any other thing but she had managed to outrun him, running into the main corridor where everyone was awaiting for the judge to announce the results. As Mr. Hawthorn screaming her name registered in her brain, she rushed to Bucky, taking him by surprise. Out of instinct he wrapped his arms around her, looking down to see her hiding her face in his chest. 

As Bucky started to wonder why she had suddenly appeared and even why she had left in the first place, Mr. Hawthorne made his way down the hall yelling out her name made it all the much clearer. Bucky held her slightly behind his back, hand tightly holding hers as the man made his way to them. Bucky held out his metal arm in front of him, stopping Hawthorne from getting any closer to her. 

     - Give me that phone, Y/N. Now. - he wasn’t yelling, his tone was constant as he starred both Bucky and Y/N down. She moved her phone behind her back, typing while maintaining eye contact with the agency director. - I said ...

      - Back off, man. - Bucky tried to remain calm, he knew having a major fight or even yelling at the man in front of him wouldn’t put him in a good spot. However, he’d be caught dead if he allowed that man to even dare to touch his wife.

      - C’mon, Y/N. You wanna play with leverage? At least step away from your guard dog and confront me or are you already too comfortable with being a housewife? 

      - You wanna see what I can do with leverage? - Bucky pushed him slightly backwards but Y/N stopped him before he could do anything else, squeezing his hand and handing out the man in front of the two of them her phone. Before Bucky could even complain about getting her phone back, Mr. Hawthorne left the two of them in a fast pace. - What the fuck was that? What did he do? Why did you give him your phone? 

      - Trust me, okay? - she cupped his face, leaning her forehead against his when she wasn’t even sure if what she did was going to work. Her eyes darted slightly across the hall, seeing Chuck with the lawyer but quickly returned to Bucky. - I love you. 

      - What’s wrong, princess?  Hm? What did he do to you?

      - I love you too would’ve been nice, Buck. - she teased.

      - You know I love you too that’s not the point. You’re trying to distract me. Don’t shut me out. 

      - I am not shutting you out, Bucky. Nothing happened, it’s fine ... he’s just ... upset at me. 

      - Why is he upset at you? 

      - I ...

      - Mr. Barnes. - the lawyer approached the two of them, interrupting her just  as she was about to start her sentence. - The judge has called everyone in, let’s go. 

      - Has the jury made a decision? - Y/N’s grip on Bucky’s hand tightened and she was almost frozen on the spot as he started to walk to back to the court room, but she didn’t move. 

      - Hey, it’s just us, princess. Just us. - Bucky smiled at her, kissing the top of her head but she could barely register things.

She couldn’t hear anything as the two of them walked to the court room’s door where they were separated again with Sharon, Steve, Sam and Chuck accompanying her to the bench while Bucky took off with the lawyer. She sat down on the harsh, cold wood, her heart beating fast as she tried to read Chuck’s face yet she couldn’t. The jury and judge arrived, and suddenly everyone was on their feet, waiting for whatever decision the jury had taken; however, the jury looked confused, almost puzzled by the fact they were back into the court room. 

      - It has come to my attention that further evidence as been found. As such, bailiff, take the witness Mr. Hawthorne into custody where he will be charged for the harassment and stalking of Y/N Barnes as well as obscuring justice. In the matter of The People vs James Buchanan Barnes, this case is dismissed. Mr. Barnes, you are free to go. 

A few oh my gods erupted into the court room which went into complete frenzy as the bailiff took Mr. Hawthorne into custody who merely stared her down and shouted out in disbelief. She turned over to Chuck who took his phone off his pocket and played the exact same audio which she had played to Hawthorne just a few minutes ago.

     - I could kiss you. - she hugged her friend, a big smile on her face.

     - Please, don’t. I am still largely afraid of your husband, he would crush me like a soda can. Do you want me to die such a painful death? After I had to somehow understand your typo filled text with the worse recorded audio I have heard. Sincerely, Y/N, Bucky would’ve done a better job and he is what? As old as dinosaurs?

     - You’re the best. - she kissed her friends cheek before going over to Bucky who was being swarmed by both his friends that had come to congratulate him, his lawyer and some reporters.

She smiled at him, standing in the back of the crowd and catching his eye despite everyone surrounding him. Bucky couldn’t care less about those people surrounding him, congratulating him and even some complaining that he once again had avoided paying for his mistakes. All she cared was catching her eye in the middle of the crowd, as if a spotlight shone onto her. 

     - I hope you enjoy being being out of a job for 10 years. - Mrs. Olson said as she passed by to probably be with Hawthorne but Y/N didn’t say anything. 

She knew what was on the line but she would throw it away for Bucky. If it came between Bucky being free or her career, she would always pick the first option. However, it didn’t sting any less.  Yet, this was not about her, not today. Today was Bucky’s day. The day where he got rid of the problem that she had brought upon the two of them and while it was now gone, it still occupied a tiny spot of her mind which screamed at her about her own guilt in this whole situation. The flashes were bright and she kept being pulled to the back as more journalists and reporters tried to get some time with the former Winter Soldier but he avoided them, breaking through the crowd to be with the only person he actually wanted to celebrate this with. 

    - What did you do, princess? - he wrapped his arms around her, turning to exit the court room and leave all this experience behind. - And don’t say it wasn’t you, the lawyer told me it was you.

    - He could be lying. 

    - You could’ve gotten hurt. Why didn’t you tell me? 

    - It was just a guess ... I didn’t want to raise your hopes over a guess. I’m sorry. - she leaned her head against his covered arm. - It’s my fault this whole thing happened and I thought if I fixed it, I’d feel better.

    - It’s not your fault this happened. You could’ve gotten hurt, he could’ve hurt you and then what?

   - He was not going to hurt me. - she scratched her neck. She knew it was a lie, everyone is capable of everything in her business. - I had to do something for you. I am ... I am so tired of being weak. 

    - You’re not weak, what are you talking about?

    - Weren’t you in this trial? They talked about you as if you were some cold blooded murderer and me as if I were the weakest person ever. As if I wasn’t standing in that room and hearing to it. If I could defend myself, if I had put my foot down none of this would’ve happened. 

Bucky’s heart broke as he heard her talk, tears pooling in her eyes as what she had been feeling for the past weeks of meeting, court days and witness speeches seemed to finally explode, breaking free from the pressure she had been putting on it so it didn’t show, so she didn’t feel weak. He had never felt weak before, helpless maybe but never weak. Even as the Winter Soldier he could easily overpower his handlers if he wanted to, he could overpower new recruits and pretty much everyone who he was presented with. He’d never felt weak, he’d never know what it was like to feel weak and he had never even considered she felt weak because he just did not see her as weak. She was soft but not weak, she had strength in her softness, in her kindness. She’d done things he couldn’t see himself doing in his mid twenties. 

     - Hey ... - he flushed her close to him, drawing invisible circles on her back and kissing her temple. - Do you wanna get cheesy chips?

     - I need to go say goodbye ...

     - It’s fine. - he combed her hair away from her face to kiss her forehead. - I don’t want you to get caught up in a mess with photographers. 

     - I’m ridiculous. - she cuddled against his side as he led her out the back of the court where he had parked his car. - I should be comforting you, not the other way around.

     - You’re not ridiculous. This was as bad for me as it was for you. - he opened the car door for her. - Besides, I love comforting you. 

     - Really? Because from what I know, you were the one in danger of being in prison for at least 5 years. The only danger for me was trying to get naked during spousal visits. 

     - Aw, princess. You were willing to get naked in prison, for me?

     - You’re ridiculous, Barnes. 

     - So are you, Mrs. Barnes. - he smirked. - You are not weak and you are not ridiculous. Are we clear? 

     - Don’t use your sergeant voice on me.

Bucky chuckled, putting the key onto the engine and turning it on as the car started to roar up. She leaned her head against his shoulder, mindlessly listening to the song on the radio, probably one of Bucky’s favourites. On that moment, she didn’t care her career was on hold for the next 10 years because he was here and he was free like he deserved. As he pulled in front of the chippy shop nearby his flat, she perked her head up to kiss the corner of his mouth. 

    - Can we do takeaway? I wanna go home. - she cuddled against his shoulder once more. 

    - Sure, princess. Stay in the car and I’ll be right back, yeah?

    - Yeah. 

He left the car, loosening his tie as he entered the shop, leaving Y/N in the car. She rose her hand up, looking at the wedding band on her finger. It had barely registered in her that she was married, she of all people. She knew she wasn’t attention’s sweet centre and she knew she definitely did not deserve a guy like Bucky. God, in her wildest dreams she’d never thought she’d even end up with a man as caring and thoughtful as he is. It was almost surreal she’d even gotten married without having to fight her agency, at least too much. Her lips stretched in a smile as her husband came out of the shop, a toothy, childish grin on his lip as he waved the brown paper bag on his way to the car door.

He drove the two of them back to the flat and once they were inside, her shoes were thrown to one side as well as his tie and jacket and the couple made themselves comfortable on the couch. Y/N sat on Bucky’s lap, takeaway on her lap while he held his on his hand with the other searched for something to watch on TV, eventually landing on The Honeymooners.

    - I need to take you on a honeymoon. 

    - I don’t need a honeymoon. 

    - Bullshit. - he held her close by, hearing her giggle through the small digs onto the plastic container. - Where do you wanna go? C’mon, entertain me. 

    - Hm ... - she looked up, nose slightly scrunched. - Italy. 

    - I was stationed in Italy for a while. Nice place, great food. Where about?

    - There’s this movie called Letters to Juliet, it’s in Verona, and I always thought it looked so romantic. 

    - Okay, princess. Whenever you want, I’ll take you to Verona and we will have a nice month long honeymoon. 

    - Month long? 

    - Yeah. If we go any less, we won’t have time to do any sight seeing. 

    - Why is that?

    - Because I do intend to have sex with you in every part of the hotel we stay in. - he kissed the crook of her neck, taking the takeaway container away from her and placing it on the coffee table. - Maybe even try it in those tiny Italian balconies.

    - You just escaped five years of prison and you’re thinking of vouyerism already?

    - You shouldn’t look so pretty, then. - he hooked his finger under her chin and turned her face towards him, giving her a long drawn out kiss. His hand climbed up from her thigh up to her dress, pushing the sleeve down to expose her shoulder. His stubble rubbed against her soft kiss as he laid a kiss on the subtle skin of her shoulder.

   - Mhm, Buck ... - her hand pushed his shoulder back and he immediately pouted. - I have to shower. I smell like the dusty, mouldy court room and I’d like that smell off me. 

    - Mind if I join? - he pulled the sleeve off her other shoulder but she held her dress against her chest before it could fall down. - I can give you a massage.

   - If I allow you with me in the shower, there will be no showering. - she got off his lap, pushing her dress up. - I’ll be back. Try to keep the pouting to the minimum until I’m back. 

   - Just so you know, you’ll need another shower after you’re back. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, before padding into the bathroom, leaving Bucky on his own in the living room shuffling through various channels. The shower on the background was running until it was running for too long, Bucky turned his head around, looking at the door that led to the bathroom.

    - Princess, everything ok? - he prepared to get up and check on her but was. interrupted by her opening the door.

She stood against the door wedge with her typical shyness which made her so endearing to anyone who met her, yet, this time, it was something other than endearment that Bucky was feeling when looking at her. She was dressed in a white corset and knickers with a small floral print and small pink ruffles at the edge of her underwear. The corset was also adorned with a blue ribbon and small blue bow, everything covered in with one of her many short satin robes that she normally used over her pyjamas or over one of Bucky’s shirt which always looked like a dress on her. 

    - Were you wearing that ... - he cleared his throat, trying not to stare at her perky chest. - Were you wearing that today? 

    - No, I bought this one in case you won. - she closed the door of the bathroom behind her, padding barefoot over to the couch, standing in front of him, her robe slightly slipping of her shoulder. - Do you like it? 

    - Fucking hell, princess. - he leaned forward, hands wrapping around her waist to pull her close to him. 

    - It looks silly, doesn’t it? I don’t know, I just thought I’d wear something nice and do so ... - Bucky interrupted her rambling by kissing her, his hands pushing the robe fully off her and throwing it somewhere in the living room. His hands massaged her thighs and upper body until they were cupping her face, kissing her as if he hadn’t seen in her in ages. 

Her hands rest upon his shoulder, lips melded against his in a long, drawn out kiss. She whined as Bucky moved his lips from hers to her jaw and slightly under it, sucking the subtle and sensitive skin he found there. She allowed herself to get lost in the feeling of his slight stubble against her sensitive skin, drawing kisses and leaving hickeys with slightly rough lips. His hands scouted her corset for the square brackets, loosening the garment and pulling it over her head before leaning to kiss her again. She smiled against the kiss, breaking it to look at him which greatly annoyed Bucky, who tried to kiss her again. 

    - No... - she pushed him back against the couch as he tried to kiss her collarbones. Her hands toyed with the fabric of his shirt, fingers trailing up and down his chest. - Let me do something for you.

    - Princess ... - she ignored his pleas and attempts to pull her in and distribute more kisses all over her body.

Instead she climbed off his lap, standing on her knees in front of him, eyes looking up to him with a devious like innocence which was intoxicating to him. Her hands ran up his thighs, nails racking over the fabric of his trousers until they reached his belt. She bite her lip, unbuckling the accessory and tossing it aside before pushing his trousers down along with his underwear. She gripped his cock in her hand, her finger swiping the pre-cum off his tip before he started to move her hand slowly up and down.

    - Oh fuck ... - Bucky groaned, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. She smirked at this reaction, continuing to move her hand up and down in a painfully slow motion. 

Bucky groaned and moaned, head pressed against the headrest of the couch, eyes closed and lips opened. Her confidence grew at the sight of her completely blissed out husband and she stopped her motions. Before Bucky could whine about it, she kitten licked his tip before licking a broad stripe up his cock eliciting a low grumble from him. He looked down at his wife through half closed eyes, locking eye contact with her. Y/N gave him an innocent smile with innocent eyes before taking him in her mouth. Bucky breathed out, high gasp as his hand gripped onto the couch cushions. He moved his hips forward unconsciously, his cock hitting the back of her throat. She breathe through her nose as she bobbed her head up and down his cock slowly, cheeks hollowed out as she made it upon the spot. 

   - Fuck, princess. Fuck, you’re so good, fucking hell. - Bucky breath harshly as she picked up the pace, her movements almost matching up with his breathing tempo until she started to vigorously suck his tip, getting him almost shaking before returning to take him inside her mouth once more. - Fuck, stop. Stop. 

  - Did I do something wrong? - she pushed her hair behind her ears.

  - Come here. - Bucky helped her up and on top of his lap, pushing her underwear down her legs before he did so. She held herself up by holding onto his shoulders, staying slightly taller than him as he holstered her up. 

She looked down as he looked up, his eyes gazing onto hers as he lowered her down onto his hard cock, silencing her whimpers with a consuming kiss. Her skin seemed to flush hot and cold at the same time as he filled her to a halt. Bucky let her accommodate to his size, kissing down from her lips to her collarbones.

    - Fuck, you’re pretty. - he panted, moving to kiss her neck while his hands held her still. - So fucking pretty, princess.

    - Bucky, please ... move. - she hide her head in the space between his shoulder and neck, a hot flush settling in her cheeks. 

    - I’m not gonna ... fuck ... I’m not gonna move if you hide, princess. - he spoke through moans, voice strained due to the grip of her walls around him, pulsating. - Look at me, look at me when I’m fucking you. Let me see your pretty face. 

Y/N whined, moving to look at him as he flushed her chest against his. She probably looked a mess yet had no time to worry about that once he started to push her hips up and down on him, eventually leading her into riding him. Her hand slide from his shoulder to his chest as she bounced on top of him, the sound of skin slapping against each other along with the moans and groans of both of them as they chased their high. She felt her own walls pulsating with each thrust, her lower belly coiling up as she continued to move up and down his cock as if she were going to die if she stopped. She gasped and whined, continuing with her movements as the coil continued to tighten up and her movements sped up. 

   - That’s it, princess. Such a good girl. - he moaned against her ear, silencing some of her moans with messy, wet kisses. - You wanna cum on my cock, hm? I know you want to.

   - Buck ... - her gasp was high as her walls spasmed and her body tensed. The grip on his dick led him over the edge just a few seconds later and he pulled her completely flush against him, feeling him cum fill her up and leak onto both hers and his thighs. She hide her head on the crook of his neck, mewling while she regained her breathe. 

Bucky chuckled through his breathlessness before slipping out of her which caused her to let out a small whine before he laid her down on the couch, arms wrapped around her. 

   - Make that a 3 month long honeymoon. - he cuddled her against his chest. 

   - How much of that will be sex? - she looked up, completely blissed out.

   - You’ll get a week of sightseeing if you keep pulling this on me.  

   - Right. - she rolled her eyes. - I forget that you are old and cannot take this much excitement. 

   - Are you teasing me, Mrs. Barnes?

   - Maybe. - there it was, the little playful smirk he loved so much. 

   - Oh, princess ... - he lifted her up as he got up from the couch, walking towards their bedroom. - You’re gonna regret that. 

taglist: @disasterbi @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @oh-nohoney @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir @niki-is-a-thing @cynic-spirit @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @buckyswillow​

[robbybirdy]

36. Baking therapy on a budget Ft. Genshin Characters: Kuki- Chocolate Chip Cookies

Hello, every birdy. Today we are making a recipe that mostly everyone is familiar with, and going along with the recipe is a meme. The character themselves is not a meme, but their name is often associated with the recipe. 

Shinobu Kuki (Shin-o-boo Cookie) is the deputy leader of the Arratiki Gang. She is an Inazuman character. She was once a shrine maiden, with her sister being a shrine maiden to this day. However, she knew that was not the right path for her and she found that Itto’s Gang was looking for members and she became apart of the Arrattiki gang. 

Honestly, for chocolate chip cookies is there any other recipe that people use besides the Nestle Tollhouse recipe? “Yes, Robby there are thousands of other chocolate chip cookie recipes, and yes some of them are 1000 times better than the Nestle tollhouse recipe.” Well to that I say. Okay. But, for me, this recipe is a staple recipe. 

This was one of the first recipes that I made for my family and I would get sad when it didn’t work, or my cookies were flat. And I would just study this recipe and figure out where I went wrong. What I needed to do next time, so that I could have the almost perfect cookies every time. 

And the number 1 thing that I figured out was that I did in fact need to have my eggs and my butter/margarine at room temperature. Even if you are using spread versions of either of these, you still need to have it sit out for about 30 minutes. To make sure that it is at room temperature. 

The link to recipe and the measurements will be down below. Feel free to check it out for yourselves. 

The ingredients you will need for this recipe are:

All purpose flour

Baking soda

Salt

Butter

Granulated sugar

Brown sugar

Vanilla extract

2 large eggs

Chocolate chips

Optional nuts

You will want to preheat your oven to 375F. 

In a small bowl combine your dry ingredients. This includes your flour, baking soda, and salt. 

In a stand mixer bowl or a larger bowl, you are going to beat together your butter and both the brown and granulated sugar with the vanilla extract. Do this until the mixture is creamy. You want it to be light and fluffy. It will take about 4-5 minutes to get the consistency that you want. 

Gradually add in your flour mixture. Don’t do it all at one time, or you will get flour back at you. And nobody likes flour in their face, or their lungs. 

Stir in both the chocolate chips and the nuts. 

Okay, so the recipe says to drop the cookies on an ungreased baking sheet. And I understand why they say to do this, so that the sugar on doesn’t crystalize. I understand stand it, however I like using parchment paper for all of my cookies, except my spritz cookies. I do this because I have had moments with chocoalte chip cookies where they just got stuck to the cookie sheet. It was not fun trying to get them off. 

Once you have your cookies on the cookie sheets, you are going to be baking them for 9 to 11 minutes. I usually have one batch of cookies that I bake for 9 minutes to make them cooked with dough. And then there are other batches where I bake them for closer to 11 minutes. The reason behind this: Dad likes cookies that have carmalized, not characolized, on the bottom. While my sister likes them on the doughy side. So I try to please everyone. 

You will want to cool them on the cookie sheet for about 2 minutes and then remove them to a wire rack to cool completely. 

I love this recipe. It is honestly such a good recipe. So simple and once you get the hang of it, you will be baking really good chocolate chip cookies. I don’t like saying that you will be making perfect cookies all the time, because there are probably elements that you don’t know about. And those elements may make the cookie imperfect. But as my mom always tells me “ Don’t worry about what it looks like, if it is edible we will eat it.”

I hope that you liked this recipe. Feel free to check it out down below. See you in the next recipe. Thank you.

Pinterest: Here

Recipe: Here

[thesunmeltedthegrayaway]

The Outsider From Opulence Chapter 19: Sodapop Curtis x OC

Masterlist Of the Series

Chapter 19: I Can Say It

~~~

POV: Soda’s

I could be a lot of things, clueless, unaware, and a bit dazed at times. So when things that might seem obvious to everyone else but me finally become clear to me. I can feel a bit... oblivious. But even I could see the blaring signs and feelings I had for Elliot. They became more and more prominent the longer I thought about them. 

The realization was exhilarating after the shock had left me. I felt restless, elated, consumed by the burst of thoughts and emotions that the light finally shined down on. Soon enough, it seemed as though all I could really focus on was Elliot. Elliot this, Elliot that... Ell-

“What are you so happy about over there?” Darry’s voice broke through my consumed thoughts.

“Huh?” I muttered, I heard his question, but my mind didn’t seem to fully take it in.

“What are you smilin’ about?” He asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

Ponyboy just looked at me in dazed confusion. “Yeah, what are you so happy about?” He asked tiredly.

I shrugged my shoulders before replying. “I’m just happy.” I answered, the smile still prominent on my face.

But as I continued to sit there with a smile that was beginning to make my cheeks sore. Another realization hit me. How was I going to tell my brothers about all of this. Hell, how was I even going to tell Elliot? Great... I solve one dilemma and run right into another. Darry could be pretty... traditional at points. Pony, on the other hand, had a bit more of a mind of his own. I always thought he questioned certain aspects and rules that society placed on us. But would this be one of those aspects he questioned? Even if I didn’t know the answer to that question that I presented myself. I knew who was the better option to tell first.

But how would I even introduce that topic? Do you out right say it? Hint around it and hope Pony finds out? What if he already knew and just wasn’t saying anything about? Wh-

“You know just because we said something, it doesn’t mean you can’t be happy now.” Pony spoke suddenly. A laugh followed his sentence.

“Yeah, now it looks like you’re thinking too much.” Darry added joining in.

You don’t even know...

A let out a light laugh before replying. “I just got lost in thought.”

“We can tell.” Pony teased.

I wonder if that’s the only thing you can tell...

~~~

“Hey, part of recovering from bein’ sick is to you know... get sleep.” I joked.

Our light still glowed softly in our room, and Ponyboy was as usual, reading a book. Pony raised one of his eyebrows, as he looked up from the book he was clutching. 

“Sorry, I’m just trying to finish this chapter.” He replied. “I know you got work in the mornin’ I’ll be done in a few.”

“Nah, it’s fine... don’t rush.” I mutter.

Should I tell him now? Darry sleeps like a log... and there never really is much of a chance where we can be alone.

“I uh, actually need to talk to you about something.” I trailed off.

“What is it?” He asked now completely abandoning his book.

I didn’t think this far ahead... but, it’s not like I ever did.

“Well... umm... geez where do I start?” I rambled quietly.

Pony looked at me in confusion, his eyes narrowing like Darry’s had before. “Is it about Sandy?” He guessed.

“No,”

“Are you stressed?” Pony asked, taking another guess.

“No... well, kinda.” I paused, not knowing what to say next. “This is a lot harder than I thought.” I spoke nervously.

“Hey,” Pony started, getting up from the desk chair and walking over to me. “You can tell me anything...” He paused, letting out a small laugh. “Now I sound like you.” He added.

“Yeah, you do.” I huffed out a breath before continuing. “You know how I said before that I didn’t really have any feelings for Sandy anymore?”

Well.. that’s one way to get to the point.

“Yeah?” Pony replied almost questioningly.

“There’s... a reason.”

Pony just gave me a “get on with it” look.

“I like someone else.”

Not quite the way I wanted to word it...

“Oh, well who is she?” Pony asked curiously.

Alright Soda... just got for.

“It’s not a she.” I admit sheepishly.

Pony just looked at me for a second; he seemed taken aback.

POV: Pony’s

“So... you’re?” I start to ask slowly.

“Gay? Yeah, I’m gay.” He admitted. 

He tried to keep calm, but I could tell he was growing nervous by the minute.

“So,” I started carefully. “how long have you felt this way?”

“A month or 2.” He muttered.

A nod, keeping quiet for a few seconds before speaking again.

“Okay,” I reply simply.

“Y-you’re okay with it, really?” He questioned in shock.

“Of course,” I assure. “I don’t care what gender, you’re in a relationship with, if you’re happy then your happy.” I'll add honestly.

Soda’s wide smile from earlier had come back; his apprehension had gone away. “I am so glad I told you then.”

I gave him a smile of my own before pulling him in for a hug. “I’m glad you told me too, I honestly would’ve been mad if you felt like never you could.”

“I know you would have.” Soda mumbled gripping me tighter slightly. He sighed as he pulled away from me. “I would’ve too if the roles were reversed.”

“Well, who do you like then?” I asked enthusiastically. Apparently, I was a bit too loud because Soda shushed me quietly.

“Hey hey, Darry is right in the other room!” He whispered.

“Oh he sleeps like a log he can’t hear us.” I say, brushing off his worry.

He waited for a few seconds, probably checking to see if he heard any movement from Darry’s room. “It’s Elliot.” He admitted quietly.

I let his sentence sink in before replying. “That why you mentioned him yesterday!” I whisper yelled. 

Soda bit back a laugh at me reaction before nodding. “Yeah Elliot is just... something else.”

“So you really really like him then?” I emphasize.

“You have no idea.”  He muttered, a dopey smile curving his lips. “Elliot is fantastic, compassionate, dependable.” Soda gushes. I just can’t get him out of my head. That’s why I was so weird at dinner.”

I couldn’t help but feel elated for Soda. He hadn’t been this happy about something in a bit. Sure, he was always happy about something, but it dulled in comparison to how he was acting now. And I know I sometimes could cause a hindrance in his usual joyful demeanor. I know the fights between Darry and I had to weigh on his mind constantly.

“I’m glad he makes you happy.”

“He really does.” Is all he could say. 

“Are you two already a thing or-?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t told him about how I feel yet.” Soda said quickly. 

“Why not?” I reply inquisitively.

Soda scoffed before replying. “It’s not as easy as it sounds Pony.”

“I’d have to disagree with you there.” I say confidently.

“Well, I disagree with you.” He rebutted.

“I’m sure you do... but your disagreement is wrong.” I replied with a laugh.

“There’s a lot of factors when it comes to asking someone out. There is a main factor that you must not know about.” Soda spoke humorously.

“Which is?” I trailed off.

“Knowing if that person likes you or not.” 

“You could still ask him out, you don’t have to know.” I reply.

“It would make things a lot easier.” Soda said quietly.

“Sure it might make things easier, but if you don’t know it doesn’t mean you can’t ask him out.” 

Soda gave me a slightly annoyed look; he seemed to know I was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. “Shut off the light and get to bed already.” He grumbled.

I sighed and got up, shutting off the light. “Alright, we can sleep now. But we’ll continue this conversation later.”

“No, we won’t.” Soda said, trying to bite back a smile.

“Yeah, we will.” I reply quickly.

I didn’t hear a response from him. I turned my head to see Soda had passed out already. I couldn't tell if he was faking it or not, but, I left him alone. As I lay there trying to go to sleep myself, I began to feel more and more oblivious.

How did it take me so long for me to notice how much Soda liked Elliot?

[curlynerd]

You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”