#on the other hand they're making each other worse

[allthesethingswillendsoon]

SUMMER LOVIN'

CHAPTER TWO: SUPER RICH KIDS

SUMMARY: The end of their first summer together marks a few new milestones in Azzi's life, her first high school party, her first time drinking, and a few other things.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k PAIRING: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd WARNINGS: Underage drinking, mentions of drugs/drug use

NOTE: Okay sorry for disappearing again, this one was meant to be longer but then it wasn't so what was meant to be in this chapter will just be in the next one i suppose. This chapter is a much more different tone then the last one, a lot more like bad i think so let me know what you think. Also I've never really written like this so idk if people will like it, also I didn't really proofread so keep that in mind. I think what makes this one weird is the stark jump from strangers to close friends that happens. It's like they sprint 100 metres in this chapter, then they're probably gonna go about a mile back and the slowburn will resume as scheduled. Thanks for sticking with me and stuff, I really appreciate it. I hope everyone enjoys the chapter.

AUGUST, 2019

CAPE COD, MASSACHUSETTS

“You ready Az?” Paige called from her spot sprawled out on Azzi’s flowery pink bedspread.

“Almost! One sec!” She yelled back from her ensuite.

Over the course of the summer they had grown impossibly close, attached to the hip, staples in each other’s homes. 

It was just so nice to have a friend like Paige. At nearly every one of their sleepovers Azzi had been the last one awake, taken aback by her utter luckiness at meeting Paige. She felt like the universe had just dumped the most perfect person she had ever met at her doorstep - or, technically speaking, the doorstep next to hers.

Paige had been waiting patiently for about thirty minutes, she didn’t mind though, happy to just lie down and wait, as long as she got to control the music that played.

Halfway through the third Drake song she had queued, Azzi emerged, dressed in a light-wash pair of denim cutoffs and a strappy purple tank top.

“Can you get the back please?” She turned around, revealing the tangle of straps, “Couldn’t get it myself.”

“‘Course, no worries.” Paige responded as she started to align the strings of fabric.

Even though the aircon was blasting, every brush of Paige’s fingers against the bare skin of her back felt like pure hot heat.

“How do I look?” Azzi asked earnestly as she spun around to face her. 

Her nerves were palpable, she had never gone to a party, too nervous and awkward to despite her friends relentless attempts back home. When she revealed this fact to Paige she insisted that she had to come to the last one of summer. The younger girl only agreed after Paige had said she would stick by her side the whole night - a fact the blonde thought was a given.

Paige smiled at her and grabbed her hand, raising it above her head and  spinning her around, “Perfect.”

Azzi looked at her, the smile plastered on her face unabashed, the look in her eyes disarmingly affectionate.

The older girl’s heart swelled, “C’mon, let’s get a move on”

They walked downstairs, Azzi giving her parents hugs, and Tim giving the girls a quick, stern talk about the dangers of driving under the influence, and a firm reminder about Azzi’s midnight curfew.

It was a mile long walk to the house, and with every step Azzi felt her anxiety increasing at the prospect of her first high school party. 

To make things even worse, it wasn’t even going to be a normal party, it was like, a rich person party. 

Over the course of her first summer she had heard from Paige about all the crazy stuff that kids in Cape Cod did, all the rehab stints and the sex parties (she was sceptical about that one). But whether it was fully true or not wasn’t important - those kinds of rumors didn’t appear out of thin air, they had to be based upon some semblance of truth.

How pushy were these kids going to be? Would she arrive at the party and be force fed tabs of acid? Would they grab her arms and stick her with dirty needles of heroin and miscellaneous disease?

It was only when they came to a stop in front of the house that she realised her anxiety had sent them into silence. 

She looked over at Paige, expecting her to be staring at her like the silence had personally offended her. Instead, she gave her a gentle smile and reached out to squeeze her hand.

“You ready?” She asked gently.

Azzi took a big breath, “Yeah.”

Paige held onto her hand as they walked up to the house. Azzi’s anxiety dissipated, her whole brain zeroing in on the way that Paige’s touch made her feel the way she imagined that drugs would.

The whole summer had kind of been like that. Azzi’s brain running through every single impossibly horrible thing that could happen, and Paige just being there, content and willing to bring her back down to Earth whenever she needed.

A part of her was worried about what would happen when she had to go back to Virginia without her, but the part of her that was high on Paige’s touch said that maybe she should just enjoy the blonde’s presence while she had it.

The house was massive, two stories and a rooftop deck. 

They wandered in through the open, double front doors. The marble floors were slightly sticky with the remnants of spilt drinks.

Slowly, they pushed through the crowd, still hand in hand. Eventually they made it to the back of the house, where the living room was. There were floor-to-ceiling windows that took Azzi aback. The view alone was worth at least five million dollars, it was nearing nine o’clock and the sun was halfway down, stars slowly slipping into the sky.

Nearly thirty people were packed into the kitchen. Sure, it was much larger than a normal kitchen, but even then everyone was still shoulder-to-shoulder.

Azzi stood with her front pressed up against Paige’s side, who was concocting some alcoholic mixture for them. She watched intently as the girl mixed together sprite, vodka, and some random orange syrup.

Paige passed her the drink. She brought the red cup up to her nose and sniffed, even the generous helping of sugar couldn’t fully kill the hand-sanitiser scent of the vodka.

Azzi sloshed it around a little, giving Paige a sceptical look, “How much alcohol is in this?”

“Like a shot and a half at most,” Paige responded honestly, “Don’t worry, you probably won’t even feel it, and if you do I’ll look after you.”

“Didn’t you do the same for you?” Azzi questioned, brow raised in concern.

The older girl nudged her, “Yeah, but I’m not a lightweight. I’ll be right, I’m a vodka pro.”

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” Azzi joked, trying her hardest to not look as inexperienced as she felt next to Paige.

Paige simply grinned, and for the second time that night, she slipped her hand into Azzi’s, connecting them as they pushed through the crowd and out of the kitchen.

Under a minute after they had left the kitchen a voice was calling Paige over to them.

Paige led them to a stop in a cramped corner, in front of them were two almost creepily identical girls. They were dressed in matching sundresses, one with blue flowers and the other in pink.

Their high-pitched voices mixed together, words slightly slurred, as they hugged Paige, both of them leaning up on their tiptoes.

“Paige! I missed you!”

“Oh my gosh! I haven’t seen you in, like, forever!”

Even as she hugged them she held onto her hand, and Azzi suddenly understood how people could become addicted to a feeling.

Paige let out a chuckle at the girl’s antics. Azzi got the feeling this is how they were all the time, “I missed you guys too.”

She slipped her hand out of Azzi’s and for a second her whole being ached with the loss of contact, that was until Paige draped her arm around her shoulder, pulling her in, half-against her chest.

“This is Azzi. Azzi, Kitty. Abigail, Kitty.” Paige explained gesturing at each of the girls.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” One of the girls greeted - Abigail, she was ninety-nine percent sure.

“You have such a beautiful aura! Has anyone ever told you that?” Kitty fawned, her voice light and almost airy-fairy as she waved her arms around Azzi’s head.

She stuck a smile over her confused expression, “Uh, no they haven’t.”

“Has anyone ever told you guys that you’ve been drinking too much?” Paige teased lightheartedly - though she definitely wasn’t wrong, they were absolutely plastered.

“Nooooooo, you guys are just behind!”

“Yeah! You both need to catch up”

Seemingly from thin air, Kitty whipped out a half-full bottle of vanilla vodka and motioned for their cups excitedly.

They both spoke at the same time, equally as sure of themself as the other.

“Nah, I think we’re right”

“I want some.”

Paige did a double take at Azzi, confusion etched hard into her features.

“You sure?” She said with a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder, Azzi’s skin warm to the touch.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, me too then.”

With that the twin’s smiles grew impossibly bigger, and the liquid in their cups doubled nearly instantaneously.

They had nearly finished the half-bottle of vodka when Azzi realised that she was actually really tipsy, and that she actually felt really good.

It was amazing, it was like all of her anxiety had just dissipated, like her worries had gone away and she could just be happy without feeling anything else. Well, the only other thing she could feel was Paige’s body, warm and solid against hers, but at that point in the summer ‘Paige’ and ‘happiness’ were basically synonymous.

The conversation hadn’t stopped since they started drinking, unreserved laughter echoing around the vaulted ceilings as they spoke about anything and everything.

And, to be fair, she had really overestimated how crazy rich kids were. Apart from Kitty’s disturbingly detailed anecdotes about her sexcapades with her boyfriend -who was a horrifying fifteen years older than her, they were actually quite tame.

Azzi couldn’t even remember what they had been talking about, then all of a sudden Kitty was arranging strands of Azzi’s hair, making a ‘halo’ as she called it, and Abigail was tapping her dimple in amazement.

“You’re so cute Azzi!” Kitty praised, stepping back to appreciate her handiwork with Azzi’s hair. The ‘halo’ in question was actually just pieces of hair from the back of her head that had been dangled over her head, not that Azzi minded, she was too happy to care.

“And you’re like, so nice!” Abigail agreed, index finger still placed flush against her dimple.

“Why have you hid her from us all summer Paige!” Kitty half-whined, Abigail trying to push Paige’s shoulder good-naturedly, but missing by quite a large margin.

Suddenly, Paige pulled her impossibly closer, arms wrapped tight around her waist, nuzzling her head into the crook of Azzi’s neck. “‘Cause she’s all mine. Mine, mine, mine.” she mumbled back in answer, her hot breath fanning across the soft, perfumed skin just below her ear.

Maybe if Azzi were a little less drunk she would’ve had the sense not to lean into the touch. To at least try and hold back the little noise that escaped her throat when she could’ve sworn that Paige pressed a feather-light kiss behind her ear. 

Azzi broke out of her trance when she registered laughter coming from the twins, but to her pleasant surprise they seemed to have completely ignored the charged moment between the two girls in front.

Paige had moved her head, resting her forehead against the back of Azzi’s head, arms still holding her tightly as she swayed offbeat to the song blasting.

Azzi smiled, thinking back to how Paige had swore that she was one-hundred percent not a lightweight. Later, when everything felt a little less fuzzy Azzi was going to absolutely grill the blonde for her boasting.

The music was reverberating through the entire house, practically shaking its very bones, when someone’s panicked voice cut through the fanfare, “POLICE!!!”

Immediately everyone scattered. 

Kitty and Abigail immediately took off, long tanned legs carrying them through the crowds with a confidence that suggested they were quite familiar with police-related evacuations.

Time moved in slow-motion. Azzi spun around taking it all in. 

It was pure pandemonium. Bodies tangled separated within seconds. Glass shattered in the room next door. Someone dumped their coke into an urn. She did a double take at that one, that was just plain weird. 

She snapped back into reality when the weight of Paige’s body against hers disappeared. The older girl’s hand grabbed onto hers, rough calluses pressed gently but tightly against her palm. 

Paige motioned with her head to the back veranda doors, sure of herself in a way that made Azzi think that she could’ve been sober, and then dragged them out of the room, pushing through the wall of bodies.

They ran down the beach, hand in hand, till the sound of the party and the sirens were nothing but a memory.

From the corner of her eye Azzi spotted their houses and slowed, stumbling over herself slightly. They flopped down onto the grassy, dry sand, hands still clasped tightly between them, arms overlapping.

“We should go to parties, like, everyday next summer.”, Azzi spoke between heavy breaths, words warbling a little bit.

Paige laughed, breathy and staggered. She wondered for a second why she was so out of breath from a four-hundred metre run when she practically did that every day during the school year; then she glanced down at their interlocked hands and stopped wondering why her heart felt like exploding.

“Whatever you want Az.” She said softly. She turned around, entranced by the way the moonlight danced against her side profile as she stared out at the night sky.

They laid in silence for a minute, or maybe an hour, or maybe forever - the timing wasn’t important. Paige was just glad that Azzi let her stare at her in peace for much longer than she should have.

Slowly, Azzi rolled over to face Paige. She raked her eyes over her face and Paige flushed the prettiest, most endearing shade of pink Azzi had ever seen in her entire life.

She reached her hand up and tenderly traced the dips and valleys of her face, felt the tiny bumps and the gingerly-sculpted line of her cheekbones. 

Her heart swelled with affection, “I’m gonna miss you so much Paigey.”

She trailed her hand down to cup Paige’s jaw, rubbing her thumb gently against the delicate skin. She watched intently as Paige’s brain appeared to short-circuit, her mouth parted just a little as she struggled to push whatever she wanted to say back.

“I-uh, yeah… yeah, I’m gonna miss you too Az.”  Paige replied, stumbling over her words like she had never spoken a full sentence before.

Azzi hummed in agreement, a slow smile spread across her face as she shifted closer, leaving them chest to chest.

Paige reached out as slow as humanly possible and placed her hand on top of Azzi’s elbow.

“You’re freezing.” Paige lied, moving her hand up to squeeze the muscle of Azzi’s bare biceps.

“Yeah?” The younger girl replied, voice light as she took Paige’s free hand and brought it up to the side of her face, her skin flushed warm and pink from both the alcohol and the promise of something new.

“Yeah.” Paige answered, her lungs seemingly devoid of any semblance of oxygen. 

Azzi swore for a second that her eyes flicked down to her lips, and suddenly under the starlit sky with alcohol coursing through her veins she gained courage she never thought she would have.

In as quick of a motion as she could manage in her tipsy state she rolled them over, landing on top of Paige, her thighs bracketing hers.

She leaned in close, her mouth right by the blonde’s ear, and whispered, “Think you can help with that?”

Paige let out the tiniest gasp. Azzi moved her head, pulling back so she could look hard into her eyes -so blue even the ocean envied them- as they searched her face for any slight remnant of a joke.

“Y-yeah.” Paige breathed, somehow even more breathless than she was before.

Paige’s hands found purchase on the curve of her waist, her index fingers lightly playing with the purple fabric of her shirt. Azzi smiled as she threaded her hands through the thick golden locks that had plagued her in the best way possible since she met the older girl.

Azzi inched forward, almost imperceptibly. She raked her eyes over Paige, trying to etch everything about the moment into the deepest parts of her brain; the way Paige’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, the way her hands felt holding tight onto her waist, to the mingling of their hot, heady breath as their mouths got closer together.

She let her eyes flutter shut, a little sad to not be able to see her anymore, but when she felt their noses bump she could’ve sworn that the angels sang, it felt so right.

They must’ve been nanometres apart, for a second their eyelashes brushed. Azzi was really glad that she had drunk so much liquid courage, but she was ready, so ready to feel Paige’s lips mesh against hers.

Then her mother’s voice hollered so loud that she probably broke the sound barrier, “AZZI. JAZLYN. FUDD. I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE! COME HERE RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY”

They came crashing down back to earth. 

They broke apart breathing heavier than either of them ever had before, Azzi rolling completely off of her.

The silence was all consuming, the reality of what had been milliseconds away from happening hanging heavy in the air.

Both girls were staring up at the night sky, eyes boring so hard into the starry expanse of the sky that they could’ve burnt new stars into the fabric of the galaxy.

Somehow they both turned at the exact same time and made eye contact. They broke out into the most hysterical laughter of all time, chests heaving again but for a much different reason.

“Holy shit.” Azzi laughed once her breathing had evened out a bit.

“You’re in so much trouble.” Paige chuckled.

“Sooo much.” The brunette agreed, turning her head to face the blonde as she asked, “What time even is it?”

Paige pulled her phone from her pocket, grimacing as she answered, “Two.”

“AM?” Azzi near-yelled incredulously, voice echoing out on the empty beach, a little too giggly to be serious, “Oh my god, they’re going to lock me in a tower.”

“Rapunzel style?” Paige clarified with mock-seriousness.

“Rapunzel style.” Azzi agreed with matching faux-solemnity.

Paige paused for a split second, and Azzi watched as she mulled over her response before she asked with a dopey grin, “Does that mean I get to be your Flynn Rider?”

The flirting wasn’t new, what was new was the fact that Azzi had been ready to lose her virginity to a girl she met three months prior only moments before, and now that same girl was joking about disney characters.

Instead of saying any of that, she settled for a scoffed, “You wish.”

Before Paige could even make a silly comment back, her mother reminded her of the impending end of her existence, “AZZI. COME. INSIDE. RIGHT. NOW.”

Paige gave her a look of sympathy, wincing at the palpable outrage dripping from her friend’s mom,  “Well, I guess there’s no saving you now.”

Azzi took a deep breath and accepted her fate, “Y’know what scratch the tower, I’m getting guillotined.”

“I think you might be right.” They both laughed at that.

Despite the overwhelming urge to stay in this moment forever -even if it didn’t go the way she wanted it to- was overwhelming. But begrudgingly, she got up and attempted to brush off as much of the sand that seemed to be caked into her very being as she could.

“See you tomorrow, Paige.” She smiled as she stood.

“I don’t know if tomorrow is in the cards for you anymore.” Paige joked back, wishing desperately that Azzi would turn around and do something (preferably kiss her, but that didn’t feel like it was on the cards at that moment).

Azzi let out a little laugh and started the walk back to her house. Paige froze in place until she realised that Azzi had reached her back gate, then her brain sparked back to life.

“Wait! Az, wait!” Paige called out frantically, chasing after her as she tried to wrangle off her hoodie with as much grace as she could, breathlessly she explained, “Don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Yeah, thanks, yeah, I wouldn't want to catch one of those. That would be, um, bad.” Azzi agreed, nodding her head over and over since apparently that was the only thing her body could remember to do.

When Paige pressed the soft, grey fabric of the jumper into Azzi’s hand, their fingers brushed, and the electric heat that erupted from the point of contact would have been enough to burn the world alive. But yeah, wouldn’t want to catch a cold.

Azzi pulled it over her head, and smiled up at Paige, clearly quite happy with her acquisition, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She was about to turn away when she felt Paige’s warmth against her body. The older girl was hugging her tight, in a way that felt soft but just as important as all the other touches of the night. She whispered into the crook of her neck, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When they finally pulled apart, Paige watched, stuck in place, as Azzi turned and walked back up to her house.

Much to both of their displeasures, they didn’t see each other the next day. They didn’t get their perfect ‘See you next summer!’ moment that was supposed to happen before they returned to their respective homes for the dreaded start of the school year. 

Instead, Azzi’s parents felt the appropriate punishment for her missing curfew was to get the whole family up at five am and start the eight-hour drive home, followed by a seven-mile family run.

To say that Azzi was tired at the end of the day would have been the greatest understatement in the endless, ever-expanding history of the universe.

But when she finally got to lie in her bed and drift off to sleep she couldn’t help but smile at the fact she got to be cuddled up in the coziest hoodie she’d ever worn that smelt like the person that was starting to feel like home more than anything else.

NOTE: I hope you guys enjoyed. Once again sorry for the wait. Thanks so much for reading. As always feel free to leave reactions and feedback and questions in my inbox!

Divider from @sweetmelodygraphics

[slasherslittlesimp]

Cursed (Avengers X Reader)

Series Masterlist

Part Five

You sit in the lab on a table as your eyes flicker between armor man and nervous man- whose names you were told are Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. The two men stand on the other side of the room as they quietly discuss how to go about removing your muzzle without causing you any harm. You're quite glad that the files apparently mentioned what happens when you try to carelessly remove the device. It saves you unnecessary pain as the two know what not to do.

It feels like hours pass by before the two finally turn towards you. Tony strides off to the other side of the room while Bruce moves a bit closer to you while still keeping a good amount of distance. "We're going to do some scans on the mask to see what components it's made of. Hopefully then we can figure out how to remove it." Bruce rubs his hands together as he gives you a tight smile that looks more like a grimace.

You nod in understanding before turning your attention towards Tony who comes towards you with a device in hand. He moves to stand directly in front of you- roughly a foot away- as he lifts the device to your face. A strange blue light emits from it as it scans over the mask resting over the lower portion of your face. It does this for a few moments before stopping, a screen nearby beeping as it pulls up the information gathered.

Tony and Bruce both move to examine the results, once again quietly discussing things with each other. You pull your gaze from them since you have no clue what they're talking about and instead focus on your still bare feet. They had offered you shoes but you had shaken your head, denying the offer. After so many years without wearing anything on your feet you've grown used to it. The idea of stuffing them into such restricting things seems unpleasant.

All you really want is to get your muzzle off so you can finally shower. Hydra was quite stingy with letting you cleanse yourself, only allowing it if you had been particularly well behaved that week. Any time you failed a task, training, or even started to show signs of remembering anything, they'd take away your shower privileges. It's been a few weeks since you last stood under the cold stream of water and washed away the dirt that seems to always stain your skin. You've grown used to the way you smell but certainly you smell horrendous to the people around you even if they haven't mentioned it.

You also want a nice hot meal. When you were fed, it was often small meals that were enough to keep you alive and to keep you from growing too weak but they were always cold or bland. Applesauce, plain jelly sandwiches, slices of thin cut ham, and water. That was all you were ever really fed. At this point, you're curious if your body will even be able to handle other food or if it will simply reject it. Maybe you should start with something light and work your way up to fuller meals. Not like you really know what options there even are out there.

The longer you sit there on the table lost in thought, the more pathetic you feel. You know you were with Hydra your entire life- it's all you can remember. What you can't remember is if it's always been like that. Small meals, scrappy clothes, rare showers. You know it's at least been like that for a few years now but what about in the beginning? Were you treated better? Worse? Not knowing the answers makes you uncomfortable, especially since the two strangers in the room seem to know more about you than you do.

You want to ask to see your files but you also are terrified at what you might remember as you read through them. Natasha had stated that there were multiple pages worth of files on you- on... what was the name? (Y/N)? You believe that's what she had said. It's a bit hard to think of it when so many different thoughts have been racing through your mind lately. Perhaps you should just ask for simple answers like your name and age. Start slow with it and then progressively try to remember more on your own.

"Ready Hannibal?" Tony's voice forcefully drags you from your thoughts as he suddenly stands in front of you. You had zoned out so much that you failed to realize the two of them had finished with whatever they were doing and that Tony moved back to his previous position of standing just a foot away from you. He holds up another small device, this one a bit smaller than the other one. "This is kinda like a jammer. We're hoping it'll block the signals in your mask which will make it unlock and pop off."

You sit up a bit straighter, feeling a bit nervous. It's been a long time since anyone has seen you without the mask and the last person who had was a target you needed to interrogate and kill. This will be the first time someone is seeing it in a long time without you having the intention to cause them harm. The last time was when the markings first appeared. Since then, you've only been allowed to remove it when alone or with someone you've been ordered to use your ability against.

"Alright, let's see that pretty smile." Tony flashes his own smile as he pushes a button on the jammer. You squeeze your eyes shut, half convinced that something with go wrong and you'll end up being painfully shocked. After a few silent seconds there's the sound of a mechanical click before the mask falls from your face and clatters onto the ground. Tony and Bruce both let out sighs of relief, glad their plan worked.

You keep your face angled towards the ground as you bring your fingers up to brush against the markings. You can't physically feel them but you know they're there, same with the one on your tongue. Neither you nor Hydra knew why the markings appeared along with the ability but you're almost certain that if the markings go away then so will your Cursed Speech.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce questions, watching you as you stare at the ground.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your courage before lifting your head so the two men can fully see your face. You give them a shaky thumbs up, not quite sure how else to let them know you're fine. They don't really seem to pay much attention to that though as their eyes instantly zero in on the circles and lines coming off both sides of your mouth.

Tony subconsciously reaches forward, his hand moving towards your face. You naturally flinch despite the fact that he wasn't moving very fast. He pauses when he sees this, realizing what he was doing. He clears his throat as he drops his hand to his side and continues to simply look at the markings instead.

"Now that the mask is off, why don't we let someone show you to a room where you can shower and rest?" Bruce cuts in, noticing how awkward things have gotten. You nod in agreement, sliding off of the table and side-stepping around Tony. Bruce informs the AI to send down one of the others as he leads you to the door.

Taglist: @desiree-lee @seventeen-x @svtbpbts @that-b-word-lol @keshet2k @cl0u-dy @randoes-world @nynxtea @cinnamoroll-things @emily2003azalga

[a-suspicious-number-of-ducks]

Hermit-a-Day May, day 11: Cub + Corporate Memphis

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Minecraft YouTuber Cubfan135 in the "Corporate Memphis" style. His head is incredibly small for his body, and his legs are incredibly large and long. His form is made up of oversimplified shapes and unrealistically smooth angles. The drawing is mostly lineless and the colors are flat and solid with no shading. Cub has one leg straight and one bent at the knee, as if he has been flying and is about to land. He has blue batlike wings that are flared out behind him, resembling a vex mob from Minecraft. In his left hand, he is holding a gold tier Hermit Permit from the Hermitcraft server (a scroll of paper with a red circular seal and a gold ribbon). His right hand is making a thumbs-up. His skin is also blue like a vex mob, and he is wearing long khaki pants with a black belt, a black shirt over a white collared undershirt, a red tie, a gold nametag, and black shoes. His hair is black and forms an exaggerated swoop on each side of his head; one of the swoops fully covers the left side of his face. His right eye is a simple black oval, and a slanted white half-circle represents his grin. Behind him is a teal circle slightly smaller than his body. The background of the image is pale teal. A signature runs down his leg, reading "a-suspicious-number-of-ducks." ./End ID]

Today's style/medium is Corporate Memphis, aka Alegria! If you think you're unfamiliar with this style, you're probably wrong--you've most likely seen it in advertisements, marketing, and even internal training materials for large companies (or small ones who want to seem trendy). You can just look it up and see what I mean, but in short, Corporate Memphis tends to be used for images, particularly depictions of people, that are meant to be quick and cheap to make and "universally appealing" to a customer base. That means that it's rare to see diverse body types or skin tones in this style--many examples even use bright, unrealistic candy colors for people's skin to avoid the "issue" of racial diversity entirely. That's part of why I made Cub blue for this piece (the other part is the vex lore, of course).

Bodies in Corporate Memphis are usually incredibly disproportionate, with tiny heads and massive, long legs. Angles are swoopy and smooth instead of sharp, limbs are noodle-y, colors are flat and lineless, and backgrounds are often abstract and geometric.

Now, there's been a lot of debate about this style. Many people think it's soulless, cheap, and sanitized. Others think it's a legitimate art movement and shouldn't be demonized. Personally, I'm on the soulless side--I don't hate the art style itself, conceptually, but I hate what it represents and how it's used. You're free to disagree with me, however!

As for why I chose this style for Cub, well. Can you get more "soulless corporation" than the Permit Office? (A bit more rambling under the cut!)

Making this piece was, like the Rainbow Fairy!Doc last year, an active struggle in making my art... not worse necessarily, but different. I say this not to brag, but I had to fix the proportions multiple times because I was making them too realistic. My shapes kept being too complex. It was honestly hard for me personally to make something that looked good while also making it something that followed the specific conventions of this style. It was a constant exercise in smoothing, simplifying, and removing all traces of uniqueness or texture (both metaphorical and literal).

Now, I'm sure there might be someone out there reading this who draws like this naturally and that's just their style. And that's so incredibly valid. I'm not trying to shame every artist who draws things that look like this--actually, I'm not trying to shame artists at all. It's more a matter of being frustrated with exploitative companies who only want to wring every drop of profit out of their clientele, without caring about the implications of what they're doing OR about the artists they're paying (probably not enough) to design these things. If you draw in a style that looks like this and you put your heart and soul into it, I couldn't be happier for and prouder of you. You're not the problem. To you, and everyone else who's read this far, thank you! And happy arting.

[thats1llyfairy]

ARCANE HEADCANONS

( Mostly Zaun family and AU!Zaun family )

CW: TimeBomb, Romantic!Zaundads, death ( just mentioned ), Silco's trauma is mentioned in the AU!Zaun part,

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Main Universe:

Claggor is the 'flashlight' kid. He gets woken up at five am to help Vander fix things around the Last Drop. They don't speak much during this time but it's their bonding time :)

Mylo was the one that shaved the side of Vi's head as an annoying little prank — but Vi ended up loving it. ( Vander did not, but he's fine with it now )

Claggor likes hugs :)

Mylo is a cat person, Vi is a dog person ( cus... she got that dawg in her ), Pow Pow is a lizard person, Claggor is a either or kinda guy.

Claggor's stutter was worse when he was younger.

Benzo knew Ekko's parents and has been taking care of Ekko since Ekko was three. First was baby-sitting ( Which he kind of hated ), then as his full-time caregiver at five or six.

Benzo isn't as gentle as Vander, so was therefore a little worried that he'd hurt Ekko on accident somehow someway

Most of Claggor's clothes are Vander's hand-me-downs.

Mylo and Vi share a closet ( Vi just doesn't know )

Vi's first word was 'dada'

When she was little, she would call Vander her second dad ( I used to call my Uncle my second dad lol )

Baby Vi also did not like Silco, they've been beefing since Vi could talk actually.

Ekko has only called Benzo 'dad' once before. Ekko had fallen asleep on the floor while working on fixing an old toy car that Claggor had found for him. He woke up to Benzo picking him up to carry him to bed. He snuggled up to Benzo and whispered, "Night, dad.", to which Benzo didn't respond until he laid Ekko in his cot — "G'night, son." Just a quiet whisper that Ekko kept with him for a long, long time.

Benzo stopped smoking after adopting Ekko because one night, he was smoking in the shop with Vander, while Ekko was working on an old watch and he heard a soft little cough from Ekko — immediately stubbed it out and never picked it up again.

Claggor helps out in the bar and knows how to make most of the non-alcoholic drinks.

Vi never officially came out, but Madame Babette once caught Claggor, Vi and Mylo peaking on the women in her brothel. Everyone, kind of, knows?

Vander slicks back Vi's hair for the first time, just being silly but Vi keeps styling it that way. Like her old man.

Claggor had much curlier hair when he was younger... Vander will pretend like he didn't ruffle it every morning because he liked how soft his son’s hair was.

Claggor was a bit clingy the first few months he was with Vander.

Mylo was like a feral animal, aggressive and hissing like a cat whenever someone tried to come near him in that first month he was with the family.

Mylo was the last child Vander adopted.

Benzo got arrested during the riot, but of course, he was let out after Vander strikes a deal with the Enforcers — the first thing Benzo did? Look for Ekko.

Vander and Benzo tease each other about the other "growing soft", but they both know deep down that they're both soft.

Mylo had a small appetite most of the time until he hit ten, then he would just devour anything

No one knows how Mylo gets his hair to stand up...

Ekko had a very filthy mouth as a wee boy ( no thanks to Benzo for that )

Vander was a ring fighter as a hobby, while Sevika did it as a side-job which is where they met. I think their age gap is like seven years and Vander does what Vander does best and decided to adopt her into the group.

Walls are not safe from Powder

Mylo used to climb all over Vander, like a monkey

They used to have a dog that Powder brought home that Vander said he "didn't want" ( he cried when the dog ran away )

AU!Zaun family:

Vander is much more gentle than he is in the main universe. He has no need to fight anymore — he's an old dog now.

Vi's death caused a war, Vander and Silco's relationship ( brotherly or lover-ly, depending on how you see it ) was reignited during that war on Piltover. Vander most likely turned to Silco, desperate and angry after Vi's death ( Benzo didn't approve at first of Silco's return or Vander going back to his ex)

Powder had very little memory of Silco when Vander brought him back home, but she knew him. She just felt it. The first thing she did was hug Silco, as tight as she could.

Benzo and Silco argue like they're an old married couple all the time. Vander has, on many cases, needed to drag the one away from the other to stop their arguments

Vander is still not allowed to touch Silco's neck

Silco despises baths.

Silco has a big ass fish tank in his office that Vander and Benzo built by hand for him.

They actually got family counseling — Benzo was there was support lol

Silco sees himself in Mylo and finds himself being close with him — offering advice, being Mylo's inspiration.

Powder is sick and tired of living with all these men, so when Mylo brought home Gert — Powder was ecstatic to have some kind of sister again

Aunt Sevika is real

Powder and Ekko haven't always been dating but they have always been Powder and Ekko. Pow-Pow and Little Man.

Vander has a row of violets tattooed on his back, just before his neck starts.

Benzo had to learn how to take care of Ekko's hair right and he's... pretty good.

Ekko can do it himself, but he likes it when Benzo does it ( softies... neither will admit it though )

Powder does Vander's hair in the morning

Silco likes pulling Vander's hair to get his attention ( is it because it causes him pain... maybe... )

Ekko has memory problems — like they'll go blank then freak tf out until someone calms him.

Ekko. Just Ekko. I love him.

Physical touch is very grounding for Ekko

Silco is a member of the Council but he... hates the rest of the Council — comes home complaining after every meeting, to which Vander sits and listens. He does talk very fondly about Cassandra and Mel. hates salo so much tho.

Ekko is one of them he/they's

Pow is one of them she/they's

Claggor has a garden out back where they grow most of the food used in the Last Drop

Silco walked into The Last Drop after the war, looked around and decided he was going to redesign some stuff. He would slowly... very slowly... replace things. New chairs? "Oh, yes, the chairs were..". New paint job? "The paint was chipped..."

Vander: "Babe, I'm going to fight a war because my daughter died."

Silco: "Not dressed like that you're not."

Silco's office is sacred, you don't go in there unless you're Vander, Benzo or Powder.

Silco will always win the arguments he has with Benzo, but only because Benzo lets him.

Benzo smokes cigarettes, Vander smokes his pipe and Silco smokes his cigars — they all claim their own form of lung damage is better.

Mylo is pansexual and very desperate. Not pan because he's desperate, he just happens to be both at the same time.

The first person he came out to was Powder, on accident.

Claggor is completely unaware of his handsomeness.

Mylo works at The Last Drop on weekends but is studying at a college in Zaun rather than studying at the Piltover Academy like Ekko and Powder.

Ekko always studies, gets good grades

Powder never studies, gets better grades

Silco is gay, so gay. I can't imagine him with a woman.

Sevika is very fond of all the children ( Mylo and Powder look up to her )

Powder owns a locket ( gifted by Dad 2, aka Silco ) with pictures of her mom and dad in it.

Powder owns a lot of necklaces and rings. She LOVES layering. she diys her accessories — she also likes stealing Silco's old clothes ( Silco loves it )

Vander loves embarrassing his kids in front of potential partners, he's evil like that

Madame Babette no longer owns a brothel and retired instead, though she comes to visit the Last Drop sometimes

Sevika x Grayson anyone...?

Powder was always bringing animals home: birds, lizards, cats, dogs, frogs, fish ( somehow?? ), anything.

Powder cuts her own hair

Powder would've had a dorm in Piltover Academy but Silco said no. He's a bit too protective.

Ekko doesn't either. They can't leave their girl alone 🤷🏿‍♂️

Ekko paints portraits and murals while Powder keeps a very doodle-y and graffiti ish style. Keep spray cans and paint markers away from her

Vander has shirts that Powder was bleached or painted on

Silco has SO much stuff that Powder just decorated for him. He loves it.

^ Sits in Counsil meetings with doodled-on mug.

Claggor has a girlfriend that he's been hiding for like months. His family is a bit too crazy ( it's Sky 😋 )

SKY X CLAGGOR REAL 🥀🥀🥀 ( when they're older btw... )

Mylo was hit HARD by Vi's death, harder than anyone expected. Someone he thought was so strong had died, someone he looked up to.

Sometimes, he wonders if Vi would be proud of him.

ROMANTIC!ZAUN DADS: Silco is in control of their relationship, Vander allows it because he doesn't want Silco to feel like he's powerless again.

Powder pierced Ekko's ear in the bathroom when they were thirteen and Silco was pissed at them ( for doing it wrong ) then showed them how to do it right.

ROMANTIC! ZAUNDADS: Silco is constantly touching Vander as a reminder that this is real. They're safe. They're not dead. They're free. They're together.

Powder made Ekko's earrings

Mylo sucks at reading the time

Ekko. Just Ekko. I love him a lot.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .✦. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ill add more if I have more lol

[kisuminight]

For the record, Staged Duo is... even more of a mess in this AU. DSMP canon is already pretty fraught with them--no matter how willing them may have been, both c!Punz and c!Dream spent a long time killing each other, in as many different ways as they could imagine and achieve. Maybe at one point or another, one of them felt wrong about doing it; didn't want to kill their partner, was scared about dying at their partner's hands, and accepted it anyway out of a mix of sunk-cost fallacy for the Plan and the fact that both of them have such strong masks it would be hard to say if speaking up to say "No more" would break their relationship. When they were the closest things to friends that they even had anymore, even with it all tied up in blood and death and a near-impossible goal.

I wonder how many times the experiments felt less like murder and more like assisted suicide? Especially when they would've tested those types of death to find the limbo they produced.

And in this AU, they are emotionally tied together in a very literal way by the Resonance.

The bulk of Dream and Punz's experiments with Blade memory come in the 6 month-ish period after the Staged Finale and before the Red Banquet really kicks off. Dream spends the majority of it in Resonance with Punz, meaning they both feel each other's emotions and they both feel a Blade's instinctual need to protect the other members of the Resonance.

Blades don't get different limbos, so there's no need to test multiple types of death. They just need to do enough damage to overwhelm a Blade's natural regen. And since Punz is the link to Purpled as the main Driver in the Resonance chain, Dream is the only one it is safe to test the deaths on.

Punz's Soul Weapon is a sword, and it's strong enough to complete the task as long as the blow is to the neck or heart. They negotiate what will happen beforehand, but that doesn't stop the fear. That maybe this time the Memory Patch won't work, that the new version they're trying to make will be bugged. That maybe Punz will leave Dream as a core crystal and he will be put behind glass in a display case, never to be reAwakened.

~

Imagine the scene. Dream is sitting in a chair, waiting. Punz is across from him, standing. He calls his Soul Weapon to his hand with a curl of darkness. The emotional bleed of the Resonance starts screaming.

"I'm ready," says Dream. He is still and his breathing is even. His voice does not shake. But his eyes are shadowed and the aether lines on his body are flickering with the echo of terror terror terror. Punz can feel the way it catches him in the back of his teeth, feels his own instincts as a Blade roar that he needs to protect his Resonance partner, needs to find the threat and kill it.

Punz is the threat.

Punz uses a piercing thrust to destroy Dream's heart in one blow. Going for the throat would be easier. Going for the throat was how Tommy ended Dream's previous life. Dream shatters into light, and the core crystal thumps softly on the cushion of the chair.

Everything aches, but Punz can already feel the diamond-edged ruthlessness taking over, guiding their hands to dismiss their sword. They need to check the core crystal. Make sure the readings are okay. Make sure everything is ready to reAwaken Dream when he's recovered enough aether. It shouldn't be long; as a powerful healing Blade, Dream's recovery time runs closer to two days than the three-and-a-bit of most others.

Is this what a Heartstealer feels, the moment they pry open their Driver's chest?

~

It doesn't really get better, as time goes on. Both of them are secretly relieved when they reach the point where no more death trials are needed. Except it's not a secret, when they're living with each other and half in each-other's heads.

This is the kind of situation that creates a co-dependence, even with EW!Ranboo checking up on them and trying to provide something of a balance. It does not help that Blades are predisposed to that kind of thing anyway.

It turns out that a lot of the blind obedience of a newly Awakened Blade is because the Blades don't have any reference point to what a Driver should be like, or what kind of relationship is healthy. Dream is grateful enough to cry. Punz tries to ignore the way homesickness for the Resonance with George eats at what they've built now.

Purpled only reaches out once about the mess the experiments are making of the Resonance. Punz tells him it's something they're working on, and that Purpled shouldn't worry about them. He doesn't reach out again, and Punz tries to ignore how that hurts, both their hurt and faint whispers from Purpled. The problem with Dream and George was that they misinterpreted what feeling they were receiving from the emotional bleed. Punz knows every emotion. He can name them in all their intensities and shades, and usually even what caused them. But he doesn't know how to fix it.

[skitskatdacat63]

I literally can't stop thinking about this sequence of pictures, actually completely brainrotting me

[nobodyexpectsthe]

i feel like if solas did rip off pirith's arm and sodder it onto his own body in the immediate aftermath of revealing he's the dread wolf & everything he ever believed was a lie, pirith's one singular goal would shift to reclaiming that arm. like that shatters him as a person and since he can't get back anything else he'd lost to the aftermath of the breech, he can at least go full eye for an eye.

he can't even properly reattach it. if he got it off, he'd just immediately detach the prosthetic, bind it to the stump with whatever he had on hand, and then resume the battle.

and in tonal whiplash, if solas asked him he would've gone with him and like, honestly? would've ended up 50 percent less manipulative and crazy.

[i-like-anything-water]

what if I give into my thoughts and write a shinomitsu fic where Mitsuri finds out about Shinobu's plan early on and instead of confronting her she devises her own plan to make sure the Insect Pillar lives because she would throw hands at Hell or Heaven if someone took her away from her and ends up going slightly obsessive which is very much reciprocated by her beloved who is swaying from her death sentence to cheat death to run away with her big strong girlfriend and have a happy married life. then what huh?????

[jynersq]

+

[br1ghtestlight]

i love to make up horrible toxic fanon ships for my own ocs. its so funny 2 me and also interesting..... like every combination of characters that could conceivably happen i have thought about. some of them would 100% without a doubt make each other WORSE. some of them i genuinely think couldve worked if i had come up with them earlier and invested the time into their romantic relationship. some of them are actual jokes between my characters in "canon" bcuz specifically i think the idea of jayden thinking two is hot is funny Tbh. like he doesn't want u bro!!!!!! he barely even wants sunshine!!!!!

[dragon-seahorse]

Kunichuuzai but it's that infamous train scene in Space Dandy. Sokoku are Dandy and Kunikida is Scarlet send post (scene in question if you've never seen it/need a reference)

[northstarshine]

makokuu brainrot has entirely encapsulated my brain. i want to put them in a jar and shake them around. i need to dissect these guys and figure out just what the fuck is going on in those dumbass heads. they're so smart but also so stupid for each other. except makoto maybe. he's not that smart

simultaneously love and fucking despise them (positive)

i like imagining that makoto and kusuke are tangentially Aware of each other’s existence due to both being extremely famous people, but that neither care enough to actually look into who the other person is. so one day they meet at some event (maybe they’re giving kusuke a nobel peace prize and makoto is there for Reasons or something. or maybe kusuke is designing the pyrotechnics they’re using as special effects in makoto’s new movie) and get to talking and realize. oh my god. this is the most annoying, abrasive, creepy weirdo i’ve ever met. i hate this guy. then they go home to cyberstalk google each other and realize their siblings are friends and immediately begin having some of the craziest celebrity beef of all time. nobody can figure out why celebrated british scientist Dr. Kusuke Saiki is suddenly shit-talking japanese pop idol Mugami Toru to the press, and furthermore, why Mugami Toru seems to hate him just as much, if not more.

then one day, seemingly out of the blue, they get photographed kissing at a private expensive resort by paparazzi and the media lose it

[maxwellatoms]

Do you think were any kind of specific aspects of the culture, industry, economy, etc that made making cartoons in 90s / 2000s better or worse than trying to make them today?

They're literally different worlds.

As a 22 year old neurodivergent, I was able to pitch show ideas directly to executives. Part of that was because TV Animation wasn't a glamorous profession (quite yet), so the higher-ups were genuinely passionate about the medium. I earned good money for the time and was generally trusted to run my show and tend to the crew. I would periodically be handed portfolios, which I would personally review and pass on to other show runners. For the networks it was always corporate, cutthroat, and ultimately about the money, but as an artist you could still have a voice and make art while being paid a living wage.

The pay for a freelance storyboard in 2005 is almost exactly what it is today, but now you're likely to have less time and be required to do an animatic on top of it. Portfolios are online, and (beyond metrics) you'll probably never know if anyone looks at it or not.

Animation got big. Too big. The executives got "glamorous", then the talent got "glamorous". By then you probably wouldn't get a pitch meeting unless you were a celebrity or knew one willing to be connected to your project. Animation eventually got so big that it popped. And that's where we are now.

Most of the people I know from Kid's TV Animation are currently unemployed. I have been off Jellystone for over a year, and I'm starting to get genuinely worried. Like, "move away to save money" worried. Most of the employed artists I do know are on long-running legacy series, and they're concerned about their futures when/if those series end. Right now is not a fantastic time for "animation as a money-making profession". The "glamorous" part popped years ago.

That being said, there are still opportunities out there. If you're just starting out, apparently there's a planned surge in adult and pre-school animation. It's also a great time (as long as YouTube remains sane) to be crafting your own content. But I think that the time of Big Studio Patronage is over for most of the industry. It's up to the individual artist now more than ever, not only to make but to promote their own content.

Back at the height of Billy & Mandy, we mostly pulled fours and fives in the Neilsen ratings, but we occasionally got a seven. For reference, E.R. consistently got eights. It's difficult to say exactly how many people that actually was due to how those ratings work, but it was a big deal for the time. Millions. Enough people that if I had a dollar for each person that just watched that one episode, I would have been set for life. Now, nobody gets a seven. A four is huge. Back then there were maybe fifteen or twenty channels of programmed content as opposed to the streaming smorgasbord we were all just enjoying (and which now also seems to have popped). Point being, even though I wasn't paid-per-view, I was able to use those views as justification for an eventual raise. In modern times, streaming numbers are seemingly deliberately kept secret. You'll never really know how well your show was doing until it's over. Or maybe never.

In modern times, a million views on YouTube is enough to get you noticed online. It's a lower bar for entry in a way, but you've got to get there all by yourself. Once you're there (hello Hazbin) a network may indeed come and scoop you up. Even if they don't, you can probably make a decent living with numbers like that if you're savvy and willing to take the time.

I feel like I could go on all day, shaking my fist at the sky, gray-ass beard blowing in the wind. Was it better or easier making cartoons in the past? It seemed that way to me, but that was a world I knew. There was no AI to sell you out to, and the media was more of a "Wild West" than it is today. I do think that AI is going to continue to displace artists (and soon others), making it even more difficult to get anyone's eyes on anything at all.

Culturally, we lack the common touchpoints that bonded our society in the 20th Century. I suspect that the media landscape will continue to become more "bubbly" and disjointed unless some powerful force swoops in to mandate a common viewpoint. Those are two very divergent, uniquely tiring futures, each presenting a different challenge for an artist's survival.

Outside of whatever our modern world is, animation was made for a century by photographing drawings. If Émile Cohl could do it in 1908, you can do it now. It's a lot of labor, but maybe that's part of what makes it special.

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (Part 1)

Let's get this out of the way, the restaurant fucking sucks. Don't even know how it's still open. The food is terrible. The owner is an incompetent drunk who's never there. You got referred to the job from a friend of a friend. You did an interview with the head chef/manager, John. He hired you because you were hot.

"The fuckin ass on that one, huh?"

Just like any man that works in a restaurant, they're all horny fucks who love to tease you. You'd run back to the kitchen and ask to tweak an order. Price would wink and say:

"Next time it's gonna cost ya."

When it gets slow (which was all the time), you'd sit in the back and chat about how they met and what they did with their lives. They all get paid under the table for various reasons. Johnny takes smoke breaks with you, sometimes Price joins. Gaz pours shots for everyone after "busy" nights (busy meaning there was an hour where there were two tables to serve instead of one). Ghost... well he's strictly work. Sometimes he engages in banter with the guys, but he only acknowledges you when needed.

Your first month flies by, you basically get paid to sit around and talk with the most charming men on the planet, and Simon.

"He'll warm up eventually. Just gotta loosen 'em up, just like any tight ass."

Soap smirked as he leaned against a counter while everyone was wrapping up for the night.

"Don't you have dishes to put away?"

Ghost snapped while wiping down his station. At least he was nice to look at.

You and Gaz would roll up the forks and knives talking about bullshit, knees touching. Soap and you would light each others smokes by touching one lit end to the unlit one, all while still holding the cigarettes in your mouths (he called it a cigarette kiss). Price would constantly make food for you:

"Gotta plump you up 'fore it starts getting cold, yeah?"

He'd look you up and down while sliding you a basket of fries. And Simon? Cold as ever. Even when he started driving you to and from work because your car broke down. He drove like a madman, but it was totally silent. You made the mistake of reaching for the radio once, he gave a admonitory grunt and you snatched your hand away.

As time went on, you got comfortable with everyone and they got comfortable with you. It started with suggestive jokes.

"Simon's just straightforward, doesn't beat around the bush."

Price said one day while prepping vegetables with Ghost.

"What are you talking about? He beats around the bush all the time Price, you know that."

Soap walked by with a shit eating grin while he was carrying a bucket of dishes to the back. Uproar from the guys. Ghost storms off following Johnny, knife in hand. You want to stop him, but Gaz places a hand on your shoulder.

"Best not to do that, just let 'em settle that amongst themselves."

Johnny comes back disheveled, wearing a different shirt. Simon is stone faced as usual as he goes back to prep. It only got worse after that.

You'd watch as the boys messed with each other more; pats on the back, that turns to squeezes on the shoulders, that turned to slaps on the ass.

"They're just handsy," you think to yourself.

Eye contact that lingers for a second too long.

"They're just close friends," you think to yourself.

Compliments that boarder on harassment.

"They're just joking around," you think to yourself.

Then you entered the walk-in freezer, only to make direct eye contact with Johnny as he has Kyle's dick down his throat.

"Oh, uh-huh..." you think to yourself.

You didn't look at their faces for a week, they acted as if nothing happened. Then, the flirting only got worse.

"Behind!"

Price would yell while grinding up against Simon's ass when passing behind him.

"Yes, Chef."

He'd respond while he continued cooking, unfazed. They seemingly shared clothes: the younger guys preferred to don John and Simon's apparel all the time. You stopped going into the walk-in for a while, you figured you'd give Gaz and Soap some privacy (although they didn't seem to mind an audience). Christ, was everyone fucking everyone here?

You were taking a smoke break with Price when he leaned back on the railing and adjusted himself, it wasn't really adjusting himself as it was more him gripping his thick dick and looking directly into your eyes. You nearly choked as he smiled.

Ghost threw you a hoodie when he dropped you off one night. It started raining before you got home and you were complaining about just getting your hair done. You tried to give it back but he refused to take it.

"Keep it. I don't care about that one anyways."

He shrugged. You'd wear the oversized hoodie to bed, the smell was comforting. Smoky, dusty, boozy, like Javanese vetiver. It smelled like a grown man. Delicious. Accidentally wore it to work one day when you were in a rush getting ready. That started a trend for the rest of them to get you to wear their clothes. It less of a trend and more of a competition honestly. They'd "accidentally" spill drinks or food on you.

"No worries, I've got an extra shirt in my car!"

They'd have a wide, cheeky smile plastered on their faces while giving you their shirt. Of course, they wouldn't take them back either; so you had a growing collection of huge shirts that you'd wear around your apartment. Eventually, you had to go back to the walk-in. Thankfully, there were no exhibitionists present. You were reaching to grab some ketchup when the door opened. You and Johnny stared at each other for a long moment.

"Need help getting that, bonnie?"

Before you could respond he was reaching over you, pressing his chest on your back. He handed you the bottle while his dick grew hard on your ass. He was breathing hard in your ear, waiting for your reaction. You pushed back on him and that's all he needed, he gripped your hips and grinded into you. Even through your jeans you could feel his dick twitch when you moaned. It was a hot minute of panting while he pulled you back onto him desperately, like he was trying to fuck you right through the denim. The door handle clicked. You both froze, staring at the entryway.

"Johnny?"

Gaz's head popped in. Your face got hot while he stared back and forth at the two of you. One thing led to another, and your pants are around your ankles while Johnny is face first in your wet folds. Kyle is standing behind you, fucking your thighs and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Pretty doll, how long have ye bin waiting fur this, huh?"

Soap looked up at you with so much adoration, like he was servicing a goddess.

"Gonna cum Johnn-"

Gaz whimpered and bit your shoulder to muffle his groans as he came right between your thighs and cunt. Soap cleaned up the mess greedily, savouring the taste of both your juices. He didn't stop eating you out until you finished. Gaz held you up while your knees buckled when you came undone. Gentlemen they are, pulled up your pants for you and wiped the smeared lipgloss from your face. You stumbled out of the freezer, walking past the kitchen. Price's eyes crinkled as he saw you head out onto the floor.

~

"You shouldn't do that in there. It's unsanitary. And a health code violation."

Simon looked straight ahead as he weaved between cars. You opened your mouth, but no words came to mind, so you just nodded. Your leg bounced nervously. He grabbed your thigh, stopping the movement. His hand stayed there until you were in front of your place. You stared at him, his brown eyes boring into you.

"G'night."

He pulled his hand away, placing both of them on the steering wheel. You walked into your apartment, dizzy with confusion. "What the fuck is going on?"

[rosegolden13]

Pictures TF-141 have of you on their phones!!

cw: stalking (but not malicious I promise)

Gaz is definitely a professional photographer. He’s just artsy like that. He’ll take the most perfect photos of you and you don’t even have to train him. He just knows how to do it. Honestly, it kind of makes you jealous how talented he is and he’s so nonchalant about it, too. Maybe it was an ex-girlfriend that taught him all this? (It wasn’t, he just has sisters, he’s a sisters kind of guy for sure). The lighting is always perfect and he’ll even help you pose, guide you into position with his hands. Is it mostly an excuse to touch you? Yes. Do the pictures always come out good? Also yes. His favorites are the more domestic ones: you wearing his shirt in the kitchen with the morning sunlight filtering through the window, you cuddled up on the couch with two blankets and a hoodie with a goofy smile on your face. These are the ones that are printed out, folded into his pocket and accidentally put through the wash, or tucked into his wallet.

Simon only has pictures of you that are as unnerving as they are sweet because you have never seen him take *any* of these but he has almost a thousand all in its own album dedicated to you. Yes, some of them are your regular selfies or posed pictures of you next to a pretty fountain or across the table on a date. His favorites are of you and him together- he likes the reminder that you’re really his. But the large bulk of the pictures are taken from strange distances… You at the bar laughing with your friends at girls night when you’re absolutely positive Simon was supposed to be at home waiting for you… and then there’s the one where you’re on your morning jog… The only explanation he gives you is a casual shrug and a gruff "It's for your protection, love." Just be glad you didn’t scroll to the very top of the album because there’s some from before you two were dating. Ahem… enough of that creep…anyways…

Price has the most terrible pictures of you. I’m talking god awful. Like most of them are of you in your pajamas, unshowered, messy hair, no makeup, and to make matters worse, it’s taken at the worst angle known to man. Of course, a few of them are decent because they’re ones you have sent him but if he’s taking the picture? He’s bound to zoom in way too much and get the strangest angle THEN he’ll even coo at the picture, proud of himself. In half of them, you’re trying to smack the camera away- he always chuckles at those ones when you look through them together. When you try to insist that he delete these, he genuinely frowns, entirely confused like they’re not the most heinous pictures. “What do ya mean, love? Look at that, that’s my girl. I’m keepin’ ‘em all.” Lovesick man tsk, tsk. Don’t ever tell him that he can change his lockscreen from the default or it’ll absolutely be the most embarrassing picture of you imaginable.

Soap is also artsy and can take good pictures of you but half the time, he chooses not to. He likes to capture the chaos and there is some beauty to that, too. So, yes, he’s got some cinematic pictures of you on hikes overlooking a view or on the beach where you're lounging in the sun. But mostly his camera roll is filled with blurry selfies from when you two were drunk at the bar or videos from when you two got scolded at the grocery store for pushing each other down aisles in grocery carts. His personal favorite and lockscreen is a picture of you with your face all scrunched as he squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. There's also a scattering of sketches he's drawn of you on classified documents and then secretly snapped a picture of. He'd be in deep shit if Price found out about those... "Keep 'em a secret, lass, will ya?"

Okay just one more of these cuz they're so fun hehe. Yes, ik Price is probs great at tech from being in the military but I like to imagine he's sucky at an iphone- it's so endearing.

[angrythingstarlight]

Ok hear me out… Bee learning Bucky’s name and calling him Bucky instead of papa to sound like the grown ups. Bucky hates it. But luckily it doesn’t last long.

Bee tried it one day.

It starts with a little g'morning Bucky. Everyone thinks it's cute. Except Bucky. His eyes narrow as he stares down at her trying to process why his baby is calling him that. It only makes her giggle. Bee has never been afraid of him so his infamously lethal glares don't work on her.

In fact she gets more emboldened throughout the day.

You look so pwetty Bucky.

Bucky you wanna watch Moana with me?

You wants me and Mr. Tato to helps you with business Bucky?

Bucky me and Mr. Tato want dino nuggies for lunch. You wants some Bucky?

You gots three more seconds of work Bucky.

By the afternoon, Bucky is at his wit's end. He's her Papa damn it. This is worse than when you call him James. He blames Steve for this. Bucky can't prove that this was his doing but Bucky knows he's behind it.

Bucky decides the best way to handle this is to treat the situation like he does one of his negotiations. Take control and show how ruthless he can be if his terms aren't met.

Bucky leaves the contracts for the casino behind and strides into Bee's office across the hallway. Knocking on her open door, Bucky waits until she stops coloring and then he says her name.

Bee's face drops, disconcertion drawing her brows in. Bucky deliberately repeats her name asking if she's ready for lunch. Her head tilts back, her hand flying to the front of her teddy bear onesie. "Oh no, no Papa I not—no I Bumblebee."

A grin, relieved yet smug, spreads across his face. She doesn't realize that she reverted back to Papa but he does. That sounds better and it makes him happier than he'll ever admit. "Are you my sweet Bee?"

Bee nods emphatically. "Yes and I weady for dino nuggies."

She takes his hand and they start down the hallway. They're almost at the kitchen when Bee peers up at him. "Bucky can we has apple juice? My tummy needs it."

Bucky bites back a sigh. Normally he appreciates her stubborn nature but not today. Not with this. A beat passes as they cross the doorway and step into the sun-streaked kitchen.

Bucky stoops down and as he picks her up, he says, "of course you can." He casually tacks on her name, ignoring her offended gasp.

Lunch continues like this. Her calling him Bucky, him tossing her full name back at her. By the time her small, colorful plate is nearly clean, Bee is waving her macaroni and cheese covered spoon at the pakhan. "No I Bumblebee."

"And I'm your Papa." He retorts, stealing a berry off her plate.

You find them staring at each other, locked in a battle of wills. It's impossible to figure out who will concede first, you thought Bucky would cave the way he usually does but he has a determined glint in his eyes. It matches Bee's.

You'll never stop being entertained by these two.

Then Bee decides she's had enough of this game, she wants to be his Bumblebee again. She lifts her chubby arms, gazing up at him. Her voice soft and sweet. "Papa I sleepy."

Bucky smiles, reaching over to pick her up, gently patting her back. "Alright, sweet Bee. Why don't you take a nap and when you're done you can help me with some work. I need your help picking which one of Uncle Steve's restaurants I'm going to take over."

"Oh the one with the 'sgana." She yawns, snuggling closer, her eyelids drooping. "It's my favorites."

"Now it's yours." The lasagna and the restaurant.

Bucky's going to have her make Steve a thank you card and he's going to personally deliver it tomorrow.

Your mouth falls open, a chuckle spills out. "Bucky you can't just take—"

Bucky slows down, stopping in front of you. He peers down at you, blatantly stating your name. His deep voice rolls over you as his words land at your feet like a brick. "Are you sure you want to take his side?"

Oh.

Oh, you don't like that. It sounds wrong and unnatural on his tongue. "Lasagna is my favorite too."

Bucky wraps his arm around you, his lips brushing over yours. "I know it is, Malyshka."