#TORRES- The Exchange

[pardonmystardust]

When Little Green Cars said There's more people out there to love than people who love you

Or when or when tøp said I'm just worried my loyalty will bore you

Or when Ben Folds said Life barrels on like a runaway train where the passengers change, they don't change anything; you get off, someone else can get on

Or when Sir Sly said I don't want to settle down but I'd like to fall in love

Or when Lydia said It's still not quite the way it was, but you promised me this is love

Or when You Won't said Back when I was young enough to know from where I came, I saw my love be spat upon and shouted down in shame

Or when Jared & the Mill said Life is getting faster and I miss the way she'd make it move so slow

Or when The Glass Child said Now I see that I went blind for you, hide the truth, made us up inside my head like I always do

Or when The Decemberists said You rise to me and I'll blow you down

Or when Ditch Lily said It's all so foggy from remembering correctly

Or when Margot & The Nuclear So And So's said If my woman was a fire she'd burn out before I wake

Or when The XX said Maybe I had said something that was wrong- can I make it better with the lights turned on?

Or when OWEL said If there's ever been a single thing worth keeping, Like some memory, it's not to be repeated

Or when The Paper Kites said You left me living with a lingering soul, how little you know

Or when Twin Shadow said Sometimes we don't feel right / Sometimes we don't fall at all

Or when TORRES said If you're not here I cannot be here for you / If you're not here I cannot be alone

They got me

[bumblingbabooshka]

St Voyager Crew's Casual Chats: X

[hawkepockets]

i think i posted these before but i just remembered my rook & taash are best friends and it made me happy :)

[thyminell]

Gift exchange for @captainkjaneway1 ! Also thanks to @startrekwintergiftexchange for hosting this!

The prompt I did was Janeway/Torres in the past so I did Discovery!

Live Michael Reaction

[nightwingshero]

Leon Kennedy - Brianna Torres - Ashley Graham

2/2 gift for @gummibrit for the Resident Evil Gift Exchange by @sstewyhosseini

[clubsoft]

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⠀ ⠀ PARTY 4 U ⠀ ⠀ CH . 01 ⠀ ⠀ JOAQUIN TORRES A . K . A FALCON / F ! READER⠀⠀

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SUMMARY ⋆ joaquin finds love on a dating app && does anything he can to get her closer . WARNINGS ⋆ fluffy for now / next chapters will def have smut / not - a - superhero ! au / wealthy , lowkey sugar daddy ! joaquin / mutual pining / they r in luvvvv lowk / awkward convos / banter / joaquin has some dirty thoughts / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N WORD COUNT ⋆ 2 . 8 k NOTES ⋆ i made a tiny lil playlist to go with this , u can listen to it here !! all my love for danny ramirez came flooding back n i couldn't stop thinking of him as lover boy mcgee ... dreamy sigh ... enjoy !!

A swipe of her thumb changed the trajectory of the summer for the better. What was meant to be a slothful three months of taking it day by day, hoping, praying for any excitement to befall the lazy crawl of time became late nights tapping away at her phone, and endless conversations with a boy in another timezone: Joaquin. The dating app had been a distraction, uninstalled as soon as his number made its way into her contacts, texts traded for images. Innocent, as it always starts, he sent himself, in the gym, muscular arms flexed, pretty pearly whites flashing in a charming smile. Tan skin, overgrown curls slanting into playful eyes, she’d found herself intimidated, yet enthralled all the same.

He was treating her. It was only right she rewarded him in return.

Joaquin’s recompense took the form of a mirror selfie in a dressing room; a baby pink dress, made to be taken off, kissing, clinging to every curve — mouth watering. To add to his torture, she’d followed the vision up with: so cute, so expensive. Exposed by the exchange, their definitions of expensive were worlds apart. 

$3000 received from Joaquin Torres: ‘Wear it for our first date.’

“Joaquin, that’s too much, you have to take it back,” she’d whined over the phone minutes later, a deep chuckle coming from his end of the line. 

“You said it was expensive—”

“Yeah, eighty bucks!” Too loud, catching glares from other shoppers, she sighed and lowered her voice. “It was only eighty bucks. I can afford that, I’m sending it back.” She was still shaken from the notification, fingers trembling, intending to do as she said, brought to an end by his answer.

“No.” Joaquin’s tone was firm, his grin audible, his mind made up. “Keep it, buy yourself other pretty things to wear for me. You need more, you let me know.” 

Men in the real world can’t be trusted, men online ought to be monsters, but there are always outliers; a man too good to be true that happens to be true after all. With money in her account, and shopping bags littering her bedroom, she’d convinced herself that Joaquin was her Prince Charming, sent to her by Aphrodite herself to save her from the lonely, boyfriend-less, love-empty, paycheck-to-paycheck life, that his interest reflected hers identically. He was respectful, kind, patient, and had yet to bring up the topic of sex, whereas any other man in his seat would’ve begun posing with his cock in his hand. The bar was low, and Joaquin was in his home gym, using it to make those strong arms of his all the more delicious, raising it with ease.

A month and a half into being matchmade, one night on FaceTime, after almost an hour of blissful silence, Joaquin asked, “You wanna come to my party next weekend?” The question was posed as though there weren’t thousands of miles between them, met with hesitation on her end, causing him to continue: “I’ll fly you out Thursday, we can hang on Friday… I’ll take you shopping. Party’s Friday night. It’ll be fun.” He sounded nervous, fumbling for words to convince her. Those brown puppy dog eyes twinkling below furrowed brows, gazing at her lips, waiting for them to part, only to cut her off when they did, trying his very best to stave off what he thought was oncoming rejection, the rumble of his chest audible in his words as he murmured, “I really want to see you. I want to touch you and kiss you good morning and good night. The texts aren’t enough anymore…” His hands clamping over his face, he fell back onto his bed, out of frame. “Your lips look so soft — you look so soft. Please.” 

How could she say no? 

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Joaquin traces the shield shape of the Porsche logo with his fingertips, his knee bouncing as he watches the automatic sliding doors of the airport gate like a hawk. He’s seen her silhouette a thousand times in pictures, stalking her Instagram, scrolling through their texts, imprinting every line of her figure behind his eyelids. Every moment of downtime is consumed by her, thoughts notching themselves into a spectrum of museum dates and ice cream to her pressed into his mattress, chanting his name like a mantra. Ice cream was easy to discuss, a two-hour conversation about favorite flavors and other sweet treats — a mutual sweet tooth — had distracted him from his work only days prior. He’d called her sweet, she’d giggled, and he’d forced his next set of words to die on his tongue: Can I have a taste?

The doors open, and angels sing. Heavenly beams of light dance over delicate features as she finally appears. A gust of wind blows past, tousles beautiful, beautiful hair, sending her into a bout of struggle as she rushes to fix it, not catching him approaching her in the midst. He calls her name, softly at first, then a bit louder. 

“Joaquin!” She chirps back, sheepish simper on glossy lips. “Hi!” Her arms open, inviting him in; he swoops down, drawing her into his embrace without missing a beat. Pressed to his front, her heels lift off the ground, and when he steps back, his hands remain on her waist. Joaquin’s gaze travels down, down, down, absorbing everything from the stitched flowers on her jeans to the ribbon ties of her shoelaces. Then, up, up, up, waist, chest, a swan-like neck— a face that broke the mold. Their eyes meet, and it dawns on him that she’s doing the same, opening her mouth, but he steals the words before she can speak. 

“You’re real,” he breathes out, his thumbs pressing into her shirt, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric. Her smaller hands find his chest, her smile bashful. 

“I am…” 

He doesn’t kiss her just yet, too shaky, too nervous — afraid he’ll lay it on too thick and chase her off. His nerves contradict the romantic perfectionist in him, the one that wants their first kiss to be memorable, not just a formality in front of the airport; a lazy, no-effort thank you for humoring him and taking a flight across the country. The gentlemanly things are in order overall — carrying her bags to the trunk, opening the passenger side door, holding her hand as she climbs into the seat… feigning confidence as her gentle gaze follows his movements, beholding him with a fondness he doesn’t allow himself to translate. He fears if he does, he won’t make it to their destination without spilling all over her. 

“My place first — got all your favorite stuff made for dinner, you gotta eat real food after that bullshit they try to feed you on the plane,” he says with his signature smile, buckling himself in. She adjusts her seatbelt, and shrugs, his brightness contagious; her cheeks already feel warm from grinning so much. 

“I dunno…  I like the snacks they give you! They gave me complimentary champagne, that was nice! I didn’t know rich people got to be drunk for free on flights.” Arguing her case is useless because Joaquin shakes his head as he drives off the sideroad, onto the lane heading towards the freeway. He opens his mouth to declare an equally playful rebuttal when she continues, “But let me guess, it’s cheap, wack champagne. Right? Right, Joaquin?”

He gasps, chokes out a laugh, and then nods, “It’s fucking terrible!”

Banter is more common than not between them — Joaquin’s personality thrives off it, his goal in any conversation is to make the other laugh. With her, it’s especially important — special. If he can work his way to one of her mellifluous giggles, his day is made, and the rest of the world can go to hell for all he cares. Over the phone, it’s a piece of cake. When she’s less than arm’s width away, it’s natural, as though the space between them has always been minimal. He tells a joke, she laughs, presses a dainty little hand to his bicep, and he decides he’ll never let that space grow again.

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The GPS blanks out shortly past them turning off the main road, much to her confusion, as the street they’re on is very much paved. Joaquin notes the knit in her brow, and offers a grin with an explanation, “This is the driveway. All this belongs to me— my family, they wanted their house at the center of it all. These are all orchards.”

After all this time, she’s become acutely aware of Joaquin’s financial status. If it weren’t for the downpour of gifts, the stacks of paperwork that occupied his attention during their calls and FaceTimes had made it transparently obvious. However, seeing it before her eyes couldn’t be more jarring. His car takes them from a dark asphalt path to one of sandy, beige stone, leading up to a mansion that’s nothing short of a palace. It’s perfect for California, with a white stone exterior. Rounded tuscan-style tiles of an earthy red shade decorate the roof. Gardeners take delicate care of the flowers surrounding the entrance, and Joaquin greets them with a smile as he drives up to the front door, circling the statue of a headless angel at the center of the roundabout. 

“This is all so beautiful,” she muses, beaming, her orbs and her simper twinkling just alike. “I really appreciate you bringing me here, this is the coolest house I think I’ve ever seen.” Joaquin hums, and tells her it’s not a big deal as he removes his shoes near the entryway, feet sliding into a pair of navy green slippers. Hopping up the stairs leading to the set of wooden double doors, a step and a half behind him, she spins a full circle, ogling at the masterpiece of a lawn from a proper point of view, filling her chest with a deep breath. Her compliment isn’t empty politeness, it truly is the grandest place she’s ever visited. To say she’s out of her depths is an understatement, and she glues her palms to her jeans. She thought she was scared of heights, snakes, or bugs, yet the mere thought of bumping a table and shattering one of the beautiful, priceless glass motifs climbs her list of fears at the speed of light. 

Not only would it drive Joaquin away, and upset him, but in no universe would she be able to financially recover — that is, if she could cover the cost in the first place. 

Joaquin sets a pair of slippers before her, looking almost as skittish as she feels. “You c-could stay here,” he stammers without thinking, eyes widening upon realization, hurriedly attempting to apologize, “Sorry. Not like with me— I know you booked at a hotel, but we have a lot of rooms— I wouldn’t ask you to have sex with me on our first day of—” Cutting himself off mid-sentence, he glances up. She’s staring at him, amused, with that same fondness from earlier. “Stop. Don’t laugh.”

“I wasn’t going to laugh!” 

A chuckle slips past her lips, betraying her. “You’re laughing!” Joaquin grunts, rubbing a hand over his face, shamefaced. It isn’t fair to take her time removing her sneakers and shoving her feet into the provided pearly white slippers, to make him wait. It isn’t fair at all, but what is she to do when he looks so cute standing there, blushing? “Say something… please.”

“I don’t think… that…  and I wouldn’t mind staying over…” she replies, trailing off, looking anywhere but his eyes, teasing him. 

“But? Is there a but in there?” His frown deepens, high cheekbones glowing pink. “You’re still fucking with me!” A sigh, and her countenance softens. 

“You already did so much for me, I owe you so much money, I don’t wanna impose and—”

“I don’t care about that. I’d really — really like it if you spent the night — if you’re comfy enough with me to do that — I know it’s probably weird, though, so I’m probably scaring you — Christ.” This time, he runs both hands down his red hot face, and blurts out, “I really like you! I’m so excited that you’re here and I don’t wanna look like a fuckin’ virgin and give you the ick — you can say no, I won’t be mad, but just know I’ll keep a safe distance and—”

“Don’t want you to keep a safe distance,” she cuts in. It sucks all the air out of his lungs; he waits with bated breath. Her voice subsides, quietens to say, “I’ll stay. I would love to stay… I mean, came all this way to see you, right? I should spend as much time with you as I can, no?” 

“Yeah,  yeah… I think so, too…” Soothed by her answer, Joaquin pads closer, she has to tilt her head up to maintain eye contact. His curls curtain his gaze; longing, locked in on her parted lips — it flicks up, he wordlessly asks for permission, and she lifts her chin in response. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, teeth digging into her lower lip as one large hand snakes around her hip, two fingers in her belt loop. He’s so close, close enough to breathe in his expensive cologne, the one made in 2007 that he always complains about not finding — the mint on his lips, the gum he chews to help him quit smoking. Surreal doesn’t cover it, he’s a materialization of every fun fact he’s ever told her, and sure, that’s how life works, but how could the years craft someone so desirable? Someone she gets the privilege of feeling, her palms against his torso. He’s warm — strong under her touch, and his heart… it threatens to beat out of his chest, right into her hand as he kisses her. He’s all soft lips and careful tugs to her hips, his other hand finds the opposite loop, the pads of his thumbs glide under the hem of her cotton shirt — he kisses her like he’s trying to slow down time; gentle, patient. 

It’s romantic, liplocking in the arched doorway of a mansion surrounded by orchards, the sun setting in front of them, silhouetting them in pinks and purples. She pulls back only once she’s breathless, bunching his shirt into her fists, and Joaquin chases one last peck, followed by a bright white grin that crinkles his eyes. He’s about to speak when an older woman emerges from around the corner, and squeals, picking up speed until she’s standing before them, either oblivious to their closeness or indifferent to it. 

“This is the girl you were telling me about!” She sings the words, smiling from ear to ear. Joaquin, slightly miffed, looks at her and sighs, dragging his hand across the belt of the younger girl’s jeans, over the small of her back to wrap his arm around her waist.

“Yes, mom, this is her,” he groans, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue once more, out of embarrassment this time. A type of embarrassment that only a mother can invoke in her child. He goes about introducing them, gesturing his hand from one to the other, “  —and this is my mom, Esperanza.” 

“I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Esperanza shakes her hand with both of hers, glowing with joy. 

“He talks about me?” 

The grunt Joaquin lets out is answer enough, though Esperanza is more than happy to elaborate: “Oh, yes! At this point, there isn’t much else he talks about. He was so excited about you coming here, he had his outfit set on his bed like picture day was coming up—”

“Mama!” 

“Ah… right. You weren’t supposed to know about that.” Esperanza reaches out and pets his curls dotingly, her laughter mixing with that of their visitor’s. “I’m sorry, cariño, it was an accident!” It’s an endearing sight, the masculine, self-sufficient, all-capable presence that is Joaquin Torres defeated by his adoring mother in front of the girl he’s utterly enamored by. “Shall we eat? I’m very excited for tonight’s dinner, I have so many questions for you!” Then, she boops the younger girl’s nose — boops it, leaving her stunned as she all but dances away. 

“I am so sorry,” Joaquin groans out, covering his eyes with his free hand. Even still, his fingers are wrapped around her waist. “That was so—”

“Cute. That was so cute.” Interrupted for the umpteenth time, he’s once again led away from his anxiety by her sweet voice. “I love your outfit, too…  Very impressed.” A playful scowl tugs at his upper lip and she giggles, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss it away. 

“Thank god for that,” he murmurs against her mouth, kissing her once more just as his mother’s voice bellows from the opposite end of the hallway, and he rolls his eyes, tugging the girl along towards the dining room. “C’mon.”

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TAGLIST ⋆ @days1 / @luvrsluxe if u would like 2 be added 2 my tag list 4 my fics , pls click this link && fill out the form !! u will be added immediately && get a notif for my next fic !!

[strawberryblue-blog]

Kisses —FC BARCELONA.

summary: What are their kisses like or how do they like to kiss you?

warnings: none. cute, soft, fluff, headcanon.

—Pedri Gonzalez.

His kisses are too long and affectionate. He likes the sensation of feeling you close to him, he thinks it is intimate and the most tender way to show love.

He could spend hours kissing your lips, soft and delicate, showing you how much he likes your lips. He is very shy at times but if you kiss him first, he will not be able to stop.

Your soft and full lips are like an addiction for Pedri, he loves the sensation of feeling them on his skin at any time. Whether on his cheeks or forehead. During sex, he also kisses your lips a lot, especially to silence his squeals and to make you feel loved. Because he really loves you and your lips a lot.

—Pablo Gavi.

One of the most amateur kissers in history, not of your lips but of your neck and jaw. He likes your lips but is obsessed with the soft, supple skin of your neck.

Especially because he likes to mark his trails, so when his lips are on your neck, he will play with you until you turn red. He loves the sensation of hearing you gasp and laugh at the same time.

During sex, he prefers not so much to kiss as to watch. Watching you is more his thing, but, after the action he is very affectionate and caring. Maybe there he kisses you too much to make up for what he couldn't kiss you before.

—Ferran Torres.

Ferran knows what a good kisser he is, he always received compliments about it and you always remind him of it. So when he is with you he likes to kiss you all the time because he knows how much you like his kisses.

He kisses you anywhere, no matter where it is, he knows how to make your skin bristle with so little. On your lips, neck and shoulders. Your shoulders are his weakness.

When you are having sex he doesn't kiss so much because he likes to concentrate on you but from time to time he seeks your lips. His kisses are very long and seductive.

—Fermin López.

Fermín loves kissing, loves kissing you and loves to be kissed by you. An exchange of mutual love which, for Fermín, is heaven itself. He loves to feel your lips on his, short or long, he doesn't care.

He could kiss you all day long, on your lips, your thighs, your belly, your neck or your face. He's super cheesy and tender. He knows you like it and he will take advantage of it to feel you.

Not necessarily during sex, because sometimes he can't hold back the moans and has to let them out but after he's done, he'll be a ball of love. He will kiss you so much, until you fall asleep. Just like the next morning, he will wake you up with his kisses.

—Alejandro Balde.

Although he loves to kiss your lips, his lips always find your hands to kiss them delicately. He is so tender and delicate, he loves to make you feel like a princess.

Although your lips are his favorite, he will kiss them whenever you can. Every now and then he will give you a peck on your lips. He finds it fun and romantic. He is obsessed with your mouth, so lips and tongue for him.

When you are having sex, he likes to kiss you even more. It's a different kind of connection and he loves to feel your warm lips on his.

—Hector Fort.

He's definitely a kisser, a lot. Too much. And not only that, he kisses like the gods. Hector has a gift and he knows how to use it on you.

Kissing your neck, chest and shoulders is his favorite pastime while you're together. No matter what you do he will come and take his time with you. He concentrates on you, kissing your skin delicately with that seductive and haughty touch he has.

During sex he kisses much more your breasts or shoulders than your lips. But when you're done, he'll take care of leaving you with lungs and lips asleep.

—Lamine Yamal.

He is overconfident and despite being young, he has a certain amount of experience. He loves to kiss you either on the lips or on your forehead, he finds it protective and tender.

He likes to kiss your nose too, as a little detail he has with you. But sometimes he plays rough and wants you to kiss him and take the initiative.

In sex he is a little kisser but not so much, maybe more your neck or bite your shoulders but he will definitely do it when he finishes and kiss you for a while afterwards.

—Pau Cubarsí.

He is not a big fan of kissing on the lips because he thinks he doesn't give them correctly. He's still young and just learning, he's also a bit insecure.

Clearly he doesn't agree with that, Pau is a good kisser and when he kisses you he is intense and fiery. But he likes it when you kiss him long and deep.

He prefers to kiss your face how, forehead, nose, cheeks and ears. He finds it tender and that is his way of showing his love. In bed he may be a little more kissy to show his love for you, he likes to be gentle and soft with you.

[accirax]

okay, i wasn't originally going to reblog with a written section of my own (though i was obviously always going to with tags) just for the secrecy of it all, but there was something you brought up that tickled me, and i wanted to share. specifically, it's about number Ten.

at the end of your section about him, you said:

I wonder if "Ultimate Romantic" could be a valid talent, because that's the vibe he's giving me. Hey, I've seen weirder! If not, then I don't have many guesses of what he could be :p

on that front, i have good and bad news.

if you were Deep In The Accirax Lore (by which i mean you were following me in *checks notes* february 2020 and somehow remembered this post, which by all accounts would literally just be me), you might recall this post in which i talked about "obsessing over my own fanganronpa game." and, the first character depicted in that post...

was Aika Agatsuma, the Ultimate Romantic! she was part of the Ultimate Couple with Nobuyuki, the Ultimate Lover :)

(in terms of future av-multifangan lore, we'll call this game our 0th fangan. it was never written, and it never will be for reasons i could explain, but won't on this post because that's neither here or there. sorry, characters!)

so while the good news is that you were totally on the right track with determining that "weirder" talents are totally ones that we would come up with, the bad news is that i'll have to de-confirm the exact phrasing of "Ultimate Romantic" for #10. we haven't repeated ourselves on talents that the main series didn't use multiple times yet!

also, while i'm in this reblog...

Wizardry 8 is a video game that was released by SirTech in 2001. In it, you play as a party of adventurers that crash land during as escort mission and have to quickly train themselves in order to beat the bad guy, the Dark Savant, to a legendary location so that he doesn't achieve legendary cosmic power-- basically, standard JRPG stuff.

Venus and i grew up watching our mom play it, and, when she was old enough, Venus got it for herself to play. after beating the game normally multiple times, she also started assigning herself challenge runs, like ones where she only has one party member or no one can use any magic. i just asked Venus how many hours she has put into the game on Steam, and she said, "idk like 1000 or something." our family often jokes that Venus is the foremost expert on Wizardry 8 in the entire world, because who else is religiously playing a 2001 release that looks like this

in the year of our lord 2024?

so, tl;dr, Wizardry 8 has absolutely nothing to do with #8 and only has to do with Venus shouting out one of her favorite niche video games. as a bonus fun fact, the Wizardry video game series were part of what inspired Ryoko Kui to make Dungeon Meshi! play them if you wish; i'm sure it would make Venus very happy.

Danganronpa One Shot: Pre-Release Analysis

Let's gooo!

In case you're not aware, for the last sixteen days, there's been a countdown of sorts going on in venus-is-thinking's account, and I've been excitedly following it along! The big reveal happened today: a fangan called Danganronpa: One Shot, hosted in the account av-multifangan!

For now, we have little more than a title, an announcement post, an FAQ and an About Page. Which I hope don't have secrets in source code or anything because I don't know how to chekc that :p

But is that going to stop me from talking about it? Hell no! I'm going to follow this from the start, and that includes early theories based on literally two pictures and a countdown. Mainly character talents and the such. Let's get into it!

What we Have

As stated earlier, literally two images and a countdown.

So... yeah not a lot. However, I feel like the poster with the wheel could give us an idea of tone, at least. Seems on the more lighthearted side from first impression, even if a killing game will inevitably have some pretty sad moments to go along with it. At least that's the impression I get, could be wrong! There's a big theme of games of chance with all the imagery of wheels, money, poker chips... as well as weapons like guns, knives and nooses, as expected of a killing game. Particularly, we see American-looking $100 bills, which combined with the names of the characters, could suggest an American setting. But hey, it's a prediction post; if I get things wrong, I get things wrong!

The comment on the names is a nice segue for the reveal that the tags of the announcement post include the names of the characters!

Now, venus specifically claims the names are secret, but I actually have a guess of what each name refers to. I could be completely off, but I think the names might be listed in Countdown Order. So Sixteen is Vanessa Bravo, Fifteen is Jeff Breeze, etc. It fits decently well, makes some sense, and I have exactly two evidence points for it, which could very well be coincidences. So again, I might be completely wrong on this :v

There's also a surprising amount of last names which... are just words? "Love," "Breeze," "Bravo," "Hall," "Long," "Walker," "Young." Hell, "Rey" and "Torres" are words in Spanish ("king" and "towers" respectively). I assume it means nothing, but I do find it amusing.

But there's one name that's interesting to me above all others. "Mark Dros." Because it just so happens that "dros" is the acronym of Danganronpa: One Shot. Now, this could just be a coincidence, or even a very meta hint of a fake name/mastermind/something like that, but if it's not a coincidence, what I find likeliest is that Mark's last name is not revealed at the start of the series. Be it because Mark doesn't remember it, or because Mark's hiding it, or something else; if Mark's name is not initially revealed, then venus and accirax would be forced to tag Mark alongside the acronym of the fangan to differentiate this Mark from the countless other Marks out there.

Am I cooking? Am I burning down the kitchen? Who knows.

Anyways, let's actually get to so-called "character analysis." I'll refer to them by their number in the countdown (I'm not confident in the name guesses as you can see :p), which can be tied to the cards by color, and from the cards to the wheel via face recognition. It's going to be extremely embarrassing if I somehow get the wrong wheel sprite from the card drawing, so let's hope that doesn't happen!

I'll mostly go in Countdown Order for organization, though... it'd feel wrong not to start at the beginning, no?

Seven - Ace of Hearts [The Protagonist]

Pronouns: Any

Color: Hot Pink*

Countdown Symbol: Penny

Card Frame Symbol: Pennies

Wheel Color: N/A

More-or-less Confirmed Name: Ellis Ortiz

*(Note: These colors are taken from the ALT text of the countdown pictures. None of them use "plum" so they're acceptable in my eyes /ref :))

Those deep in the DROS lore (so, me and maybe two or three other people so far :p) know that Seven's countdown post was the only one accirax reblogged apart from 16 and 1, saying she did it for "no reason in particular." This is one of the things that made me think Seven could be the protagonist, which I was seemingly right about, but I could have never expected her to actually be played by accirax! This sort of roleplay format is really interesting, and I'm very curious to see how it plays out!

Well, I should point out that Seven isn't technically confirmed as the protagonist, but he may as well be. That means they're the only one with a confirmed name, as both the About post and the FAQ state accirax played Ellis. Ortiz comes from the tag. This is evidence point Nº1 for the names being in Countdown Order, as Ellis is listed seventh to last.

Apart from that, my previous guess of Seven being the Ultimate Lucky Student (based on the coins and the number seven being considered lucky) seems to hold up pretty well. The theme of chance and luck has only been made more prevalent with the announcement post, though it's to the point I almost wonder if Seven might be the Ultimate Game Show Contestant or something to that effect instead. However, since the About page claims some knowledge from THH is required, it's not unreasonable to assume this is a Hope's Peak class and thus needs a Lucky Student.

Plus, Ellis being Lucky would continue the age old tradition of Lucky Student protagonists: your Makoto Naegis (THH), your Yuki Maedas (DR Another), your Teruko Tawakis (DR Despair Time), etc. What this luck looks like is impossible to know so far, but since Seven seems like a relatively confident person at first glance, my best assumption is that he's aware of his good luck and uses it for their benefit. That's probably the guess I'm least confident about btw.

Seven's also connected to the Ace of Hearts, and looking at their glasses, yeah that makes sense :v The card is connected to new beginnings and love, which seems pretty in line for a protag.

Anyways, as a final note, I really love Seven's design and Vibe. Really fun looking protag, and since she's played by accirax, I would be foolish to expect anything but peak from them :D

Then again, the rest of the characters were written by venus, so I would be foolish to anything but peak from them either ;)

Alright, now we can start with-

Mascot

Pronouns: He/him

Color: N/A

Countdown Symbol: N/A

Card Frame Symbol: N/A

Wheel Color: Pink

Suspected Name: N/A (but probs Mono-something :p)

Right, this guy. Not included in the countdown, this little cameo in the announcement post is the only reference we have of this thing's existence. That means I genuinely have no guesses on what's going on with him.

I can't even know what I'm looking at, necessarily. It looks like a gem, maybe? I'm very curious to see this guy's full design, because I feel there's a lot being lost in translation to the wheel sprite :v

Alright, now we can start with Countdown Order. Jeez.

Sixteen - Queen of Clubs

Pronouns: She/her

Color: Lime Green

Countdown Symbol: Headphones

Card Frame Symbol: Headphones

Wheel Color: Pink

Suspected Name: Vanessa Bravo

Although headphones by themselves are a bit too vague for me to have made a guess from them alone back during countdown ages, the addition of a microphone in her card makes it seem that Sixteen is the Ultimate Singer! Or something to that effect, obviously exact wording is impossible for me to guess. In any case, I’m sure watching her perform would get anyone to say “bravo!”

… I’m very unfunny.

On top of that, while card symbolism is always pretty hard to pin down due to the large variety of possible interpretations, the queen of clubs' association with confidence and self-love seem in line with Sixteen's seemingly animated stage presence... I say, having exactly one picture of her. As always in these fangans, the persona of any performer will always come into question, so whether or not she's really as confident as she seems is yet to be seen. First impressions can be wrong, after all!

Anyways, I really like her design, her little hair accessory is everything :D

Fifteen - Jack of Hearts

Pronouns: He/they

Color: Teal

Countdown Symbol: Umbrella

Card Frame Symbol: Umbrellas

Wheel Color: Red

Suspected Name: Jeff Breeze

A cool looking guy to be sure, I... have no clue what Fifteen's talent may be. The towel they're holding makes me think the umbrellas are actually parasols, so maybe something like Ultimate Resort/Hotel Manager, Ultimate Tour Guide, Ultimate Vacationer, something to that effect?

Regardless, Fifteen looks like a relatively chill guy, which certainly fits the Jack of Hearts' connections to youthful love, passion, honesty and adventure. Seems like the sort of guy you'd really love to "shoot the breeze" with, huh?

... I gotta stop. These names are all gonna be wrong and this is gonna go from unfunny to straight up silly-

Fourteen - Queen of Spades

Pronouns: She/her

Color: Red

Countdown Symbol: Spade

Card Frame Symbol: Clubs, hearts, diamonds, spades

Wheel Color: Red

Suspected Name: Antonia Cisneros

Oh... oh she looks cool... and vaguely evil... Chat I fear I might have found a future favorite. Her smug little smile and and appealing design have enraptured me lol.

I particularly love the fact all four suits of the French deck are represented in her design; the club and spade accessories in her hair and belt (maybe?) respectively, the heart shaped dress, and the (I think) diamond earrings, she slays so much I worry she might "slay" a bit too literally if you catch my drift.

That aside, it seems my original guess of Ultimate Gambler or Poker Player or something to that effect remains solid, what with all the card imagery in her accessories and the cards she's holding. Especially notable given the series itself has quite a large theming around games of chance. Hell, all the characters are represented by cards in the French deck in the Header picture.

That could certainly imply a larger degree of importance for Fourteen than other characters. I expect her to be a common mastermind guess, but I personally think it'd be cool if she was the main killing game "antagonist," a la Byakuya. Of course, she doesn't have to be, but she's currently my best guess of who the "antag" might be, if there even is one at all.

This is especially so since the Queen of Spades can be associated with intelligence and logical judgement, which makes it seem like we might have a bit of a girlboss in our hands. As much as I'm excited to see all the characters, Fourteen is one that particularly intrigues me. Can't wait to meet her!

Thirteen - Queen of Hearts

Pronouns: She/her

Color: Gold

Countdown Symbol: Teacup

Card Frame Symbol: Laurel leaves, crown?, undetermined

Wheel Color: Pink

Suspected Name: Paris Hall

Speaking of girlbosses, Thirteen seems to be actively telling me to "spill the tea, sis" in her card, which is awesome. She looks like she'll be fun.

I originally didn't have much of a guess of what talent she might have, though Ultimate Tea Maker or something to that effect might still be the best guess. However, the combination of her color being gold, the crown-looking thing at the top right of her card, and the Laurus Nobilis leaves at the top make me consider she might be royalty? Ultimate Queen/Princess? Not impossible for sure. Though it would be pretty funny to call a monarch after the capital city of one of the most notoriously anti-monarchy countries in history, assuming I got the name right of course.

(...Should I mention that Cisneros, which could be Fourteen's last name, is the name of a historically important viceroy? Does this imply a thematic connection to Thirteen? I almost wanna look a bit deeper into it, but that's speculation on top of theories on top of speculation on top of theories, so I'll hold off for now)

In any case, I'm sure she'll be quite fun. The Queen of Hearts is associated with compassion and emotional intelligence, so I'm sure she'll be a good person to have around during the killing game! ... Provided we ignore the associations 13 has with bad luck :v

Twelve - King of Spades

Pronouns: He/any

Color: Dark Red

Countdown Symbol: X

Card Frame Symbol: X

Wheel Color: Red

Suspected Name: Aidan Ho

I didn't know what the X could represent on Countdown Day Twelve, and that hasn't changed just because we've added more Xs to the situation :v

Indeed, Twelve is one of the people for whom I have no guess of a talent. He's so weird that I don't even know what's happening with his hoodie??? Is Twelve wearing a half-blue, half-red thing??? What is this.

To be fair, though, the duality might be the point. The 12 in the countdown image was also split down the middle, although what this duality theming could imply is beyond me for now.

Very emo looking, though, I'm sure it'll be fun to see what his Deal is. The King of Spades holds similar meanings to the Queen of Spades, so I could see Twelve and Fourteen being a pair of sorts. Also potentially not, you know how this works.

Very mysterious dude... I'm excited to see where Twelve goes!

Eleven - Jack of Spades

Pronouns: They/them

Color: Orange

Countdown Symbol: Theater Masks

Card Frame Symbol: Theater Masks

Wheel Color: Orange

Suspected Name: Taylor Long

Really love the design of this Ultimate Actor (or something else theater-related)! They look pretty befuddled by that book, I wonder what they're reading?

I found conflicting reports on what the Jack of Spades symbolizes, but it's something along the lines of cleverness and hard work. Possibly a smart individual, then, and the fact they seem to be studying something in a killing game seems to corroborate the "hard working" thing. I'm interested in seeing them in action! It won't be "long" until we get to see how well that applies-

I gotta... I gotta stop.

Ten - King of Hearts

Pronouns: He/him (I really hope I'm not wrongly assigning the wheel things lol :v)

Color: Pink

Countdown Symbol: Rose

Card Frame Symbol: Roses

Wheel Color: Blue

Suspected Name: Davis Love

Ah, the classic trope of the "sopping wet cat guy," I suspect this one will be a big hit in the Tumblr crowd! Definitely connected to romantic love in some capacity, not just because I'm suspecting his last name is "Love," but more so because of the "they love me-they love me not" game he's playing in the Header image and the roses he's always accompanied by. Not to mention the King of Heart's connections to love and empathy and deep emotions.

Can't exactly tell what the pin he's wearing is, but it might be a rose too. Very Crystal Gem coded, this guy.

I wonder if "Ultimate Romantic" could be a valid talent, because that's the vibe he's giving me. Hey, I've seen weirder! If not, then I don't have many guesses of what he could be :p

Nine - Ace of Spades

Pronouns: They/them

Color: Purple

Countdown Symbol: Question mark

Card Frame Symbol: Question marks

Wheel Color: Orange

Suspected Name: Mark [Dros]

Ah, the classic Ultimate ???, huh? Well, maybe not, but that's my best guess for Nine! The mirror they're holding up could be a representation of them trying to remember their own identity, their talent... and possibly, their last name.

Indeed, the fact that "Mark Dros" happens to fall on Nine is my second evidence point for the name order I'm using. It's a theory built on top of a theory built on top of a guess, but it's what I have for now :v

In any case, I'm sure I'll love them. I'm always a sucker for mystery characters, be it in the form of weirdos like Okazaki Hanano (Tetro DR Pink), cryptids like Mai Akasaki (DR Despair Time), or as seems to be the case here, amnesiacs like Izanami Hoshimiya (DR (He)artless Deceit). And the mystery with this guy is exacerbated by the fact that the Ace of Spades has the most conflicting interpretations we've seen so far. It can represent power, authority, success, and good luck... or bad luck, defeat, and death. Quite literally impossible to tell what's going on, which is only fitting. Very intrigued by this one...

Eight - Queen of Diamonds

Pronouns: She/they

Color: Bright Blue

Countdown Symbol: Scalpel + Wizardry 8 reference

Card Frame Symbol: Scalpel

Wheel Color: Red

Suspected Name: Vivi Mitchell

Ah, my archnemesis.

The backstory here is that Eight's countdown image released after I had spent the entire day, from eight in the morning to five in the afternoon, in uni, and my brain was a bit fried from several hours of class and three hours of lab work. That's my excuse for fucking up not once, but twice with that image. Not only did I first think their symbol was a paintbrush (despite having checked ALT text for every day prior), I then proceeded to confuse the word "scalpel" for "chisel" and therefore assumed Eight would be a sculptor. You're allowed to laugh at me.

Anyways, third time's the charm, Eight is likely the Ultimate Surgeon/Doctor or something to that effect, and will most likely be our designated autopsy performer for at least the first few trials. They seem to be pretty upbeat from the one (1) image we have of them, so I'm sure they'll be fun to have around. The Queen of Diamonds seems to mostly represent wealth and power, which means... I don't know. Eight makes good money? :v

Also, still no idea what Wizardry 8 is, if anyone has any guesses on why that reference exists, please tell me pretty please?

Six - Ace of Diamonds

Pronouns: Any

Color: Brown

Countdown Symbol: Illuminati Symbol

Card Frame Symbol: Illuminati Symbols, but radiant

Wheel Color: Blue

Suspected Name: Kennedy Rey

It looks like Scott Smajor got a little too obsessed with Bill Cipher and turned into a Drew Flamboni kinnie. I wonder how many references it takes for no one but me to understand a sentence :v

In case the illuminati symbol wasn't enough, the red string she's holding, associated with insane cork boards filled with random connections, fully cements Six in my mind as the Ultimate Conspiracy Theorist, or something to that effect. Not sure what the rectangle in their shirt is meant to be, but I guess that'll have to wait for the actual release.

The Ace of Diamonds generally represents wealth and success, which makes me wonder how it could connect to Six. I guess... he might just be rich. Final note, while I'm still uncertain if I got the names right or not, if I am right, venus would be kinda crazy for calling the conspiracy theorist Kennedy, knowing the conspiracy theories surrounding JFK xD It would be iconic of her I think.

Five - Jack of Clubs

Pronouns: He/him

Color: Light Blue

Countdown Symbol: Page

Card Frame Symbol: None

Wheel Color: Orange

Suspected Name: Robert Smith

Now this one's interesting. While Five's countdown symbol of a page with a bent top right corner is etched into his design, being the pin he wears, he's the only character not to have any symbols on the frame of his card. I already had no good guesses for his talent before, just kinda throwing in Ultimate Writer or Ultimate Coder or equivalents as provisional guesses, but now they seem even less likely. Because the lack of symbols on the frame of his card could actually mean the page represents something different.

I think it's possible Five is meant to be a "blank slate," which could mean he has no talent at all. Of course, there's also the possibility that his average-ness is actually his talent, something like Ultimate Blank Slate or Ultimate Regular Person or Ultimate Guy. I'm probably way off, but who knows!

The Jack of Clubs has a few different meanings, but they're generally positive. Creativity, intelligence and sincerity seem to be the main themes. So I'm sure Five will be Perfectly Normal and have Nothing Wrong with him :)

Really curious to see this one!

Four - Jack of Diamonds

Pronouns: They/them

Color: Dark Green

Countdown Symbol: Gear

Card Frame Symbol: Gears

Wheel Color: Blue

Suspected Name: Grace Thomas

Another design I love at first sight, I really dig Four's vibe. They seem pretty straightforward so far; an Ultimate Mechanic or something to that effect (I am overusing that phrase so much), they give me the impression that they'll be a voice of reason within the killing game. The Jack of Diamonds seems to reference a "messenger" who helps people achieve financial goals, which extrapolated to the killing game, could imply Four will be some kind of important support. Probably will be helpful in trials, they seem smart. Entirely possible I might be off, but that kinda fits the vibe I'm getting from them.

Let's just hope the associations the number four has with death and misfortune aren't relevant...

Three - Ace of Clubs

Pronouns: She/they

Color: Light Gray

Countdown Symbol: Fountain Pen

Card Frame Symbol: Fountain Pen

Wheel Color: Blue

Suspected Name: Cass Torres

Another one that looks like they know what they're doing, Three seems to be some kind of Ultimate Writer or something to that- you know what the phrase is. The Ace of Clubs is connected to creativity, prosperity and good fortune, which certainly fits an Ultimate Writer. Bit ironic I don't have much else to write about Three, but what we have of her seems pretty straightforward so far. We'll see how much of that is wrong later!

Two - King of Clubs

Pronouns: He/him

Color: Orange**

Countdown Symbol: Omega (uppercase), 2 stylized as Lambda (uppercase)

Card Frame Symbol: Omega, Lambda, Phi, Psi, Theta, Sigma; all uppercase

Wheel Color: Pink

Suspected Name: Noah Walker

**(Yes, the ALT text for Two and Eleven describe their colors the exact same way. That's kinda funny)

If I had no idea what the hell the Greek letters were about in the countdown image, I have even less of an idea of what they mean here. Is Two the Ultimate Hellenic Scholar? As in, a scholar focused on studying Greece? Certainly kinda gives frat bro vibes. Surely, if he was the Ultimate Linguist or something, there'd be more than Greek letters, right? Why is he so confusing?

Anyways, he seems like a pretty positive person, but who knows. The King of Clubs represents leadership, intelligence and authority. I mean... sure? Maybe that applies to him? Yeah I have no idea. Two's a bit of an enigma for me :v We'll have to wait and see!

One - King of Diamonds

Pronouns: Ve/ver

Color: Dark Blue

Countdown Symbol: Heart in Hands

Card Frame Symbol: Heart in Hands, hearts, people holding hands, peace symbol

Wheel Color: Orange

Suspected Name: Harper Young

While I originally thought One might join ver apparent distant cousin Whit Young (DR Despair Time) as an Ultimate Matchmaker, the inclusion of the peace symbol in the card frame and One giving out sweets (kinda funny, given ver countdown image came out in Halloween) makes me think it's something more along the lines of... Ultimate Pacifist? Ultimate Activist? Ultimate Make-Other-People-Feel-Good-Person? Some vague title that refers to helping others with love and peace in ver heart, be it through volunteer work, activism, whatever. I'm thinking something along the lines of Tsuno Manami's Ultimate Superhero (Tetro DR Pink), if you catch my drift.

In any case, what I'm certain of is that One seems to be a very sweet and kind person! Even if the King of Diamonds, representing mostly material wealth and authority, seems like a weird fit for ver (btw if I use these pronouns wrong please tell me. I looked them up but I'm still not entirely confident I'm using them right :v). However, the King of Diamonds can also represent ethical success and bring positive energy to a reading (?), so it might not be completely off from what the rest of the information we have of One.

Finally, there's one variable I've been listing for these characters which I haven't really addressed yet, and that's the wheel color. Here are the full groups for each color:

N/A: Seven

Pink: Mascot, Sixteen, Thirteen, Two

Red: Fifteen, Fourteen, Twelve, Eight

Orange: Eleven, Nine, Five, One

Blue: Ten, Six, Four, Three

What could this mean? Well, uh... anything. Friend groups, shared themes, simple coincidence... I have no way of knowing what the connections could be, or if they're even relevant at all. I'm just noting them down for future reference :)

Anyways, that's all folks! Geez, how the hell did I write so much about a fangan that has practically no content so far? No wonder my other posts reach such ridiculous word lengths.

Hope you enjoyed! If you made it this far, you deserve a little treat! You can ask One, heard ve's passing them out. See you later!

[goosewriting]

Could I get a scenario for joaquin x reader: where the reader is an avenger (she was like a protege to clint and natasha) but her main job was designing the suits and gear for other superheroes that works better with their fighting styles. Sams nickname for her is Sketch.

Sam introduces her to joaquin at Isaiahs gym (she trains there but looks after him on sams behalf). She starts to study joaquin to better understand how to equip his suit. After one of their cases, joaquin wanted to make a note in their sketch book where their designs are but ends up finding a different notebook that are not suit/gear sketches, but sketches of everyday things and most of the sketches are of him. Reader walks in to see joaquin found their personal sketch book and freaks out and becomes a stuttering mess. They end up confessing to each other and please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or two lol. Sorry if this is long, but I had some inspo and your work has been lovely 😊

Sketch

summary: Joaquín discovers that reader’s sketchbook features a lot of drawings of himself.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: none, fluff! kisses, maybe secondhand embarrassment lol

word count: 4.2k

A/N: i decided to use ‘sewist’ here as a gender neutral term instead of seamster/seamstress. i also changed it a lil bit so that Sam hasn’t seen the green suit yet. and i added a lil bit more at the end to lead up to the kiss, which i hope you’ll like!<3 tysm for requesting, this was such an adorable ask,, it took form in my mind almost immediately and i kept squealing at how tooth-rottingly fluffy this one would be 🙈🙈

[all masterlists] 🪶 [mcu masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

For years, you’ve been in the Avengers’ orbit, helping out by designing their costumes and fighting at their side. After coming back from the blip and getting the news that many of your friends were gone, you decided to fully go into the designing side of helping out all heroes. You’ve made countless garments and weapons of all shapes, sizes and materials.

So while you still keep up with your training, these days you consider yourself more of a sewist and tinkerer than anything else. You mainly hang out with Sam, who introduced you to Isaiah Bradley, one of the few super soldiers still alive from back in the day. He’s let you claim one of the empty offices of his gym as your workspace. You like working there while there’s background noise, be it music or other people training in the ring or with the equipment.

In exchange for using the gym as your base of operation of sorts, you help Sam take care of Isaiah by taking walks with him and making sure he’s eating properly. He may not be physically frail for his age, given the serum, but he’s as stubborn as he’s strong. Since he’s gotten a bit of a soft spot for you over time, you try your best to keep him busy and content. 

One day, Sam comes in with someone new. From where you sit in your office, which has a window to the main training area, you see your friend approach with someone you don’t know, so you get up and approach them. Immediately you come to the realisation that this new guy is extremely handsome and charming. 

“This is Joaquín,” Sam introduces him. 

“Joaquín Torres, Air Force Captain,” he says, stretching out his hand to you. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“And this is Sketch,” Sam continues, pointing to you. 

“Sketch?” Joaquín asks with a slight tilt of his head. You chuckle and tell him your name, shaking his hand. 

“That’s just what Sam calls me,” you explain with a smile. 

“Yeah, well, you’re sketching in your book all the time,” he says and elbows your side playfully, then turns back to Joaquín to tell him how you’ve helped design most of the outfits everyone has worn over the years, including his new Captain America suit. 

“That’s impressive,” Joaquín says with raised brows and looks at you. A slight heat erupts on your face at the earnest look in his eyes. “Sam was so kind to let me have his old Falcon suit. You think I could run some ideas by you?”

“Of course,” you offer, pointing to your office. “Come by any time.” 

From that day on, Joaquín drops by the gym several times a week, with or without Sam. He mainly uses the time to train with Isaiah, but he also enjoys visiting you and watching you work, chatting about anything and everything while you sew away. 

One morning he comes in to train, and from where you sit at your desk, you can see Joaquín at one of the treadmills. Despite your best efforts, your eyes keep drifting to his figure doing some cardio, with his back to you. At one point he changes to another machine, where he pulls a bar up and down, with the weights lifting and sinking behind him, sitting so that he’s facing your office. Again, you find your gaze drifting to the window instead of focusing on the work on your desk. Risking taking a proper look, you lift your eyes and look to the side. To your surprise and shock, you find him looking at you as well. Both of you are quick to avert your eyes, cheeks prickling with heat. 

That afternoon, you come out of the office to take some measurements. Sam puts on a mock-up of his new suit you’ve made, and you diligently measure everything, taking notes in your sketchbook that you use for designing. Joaquín stands next to you, arms crossed over his chest, following your movements curiously. As you finish measuring Sam’s arm in different positions, you turn back to your book, using some piled up boxes as a table, and jot down the numbers. 

“Do you have all designs in there?” Joaquín asks, pointing to your sketchbook. You pause momentarily, caught off-guard by the question, then you turn to him.

“I mean, not all of them,” you explain. “There’s probably at least forty more books, all with previous iterations and ideas for everyone’s suits and gear.” 

“Wow,” he says, looking at Sam and giving an impressed nod. But then he turns back to you with a mischievous smile, and Sam rolls his eyes, knowing what he’s going to ask. “Do you also have sketches of Ant-Man’s suit?” 

You narrow your eyes at him playfully, then look over to Sam. He merely shakes his head with a chuckle. 

“Unfortunately no. It wasn’t me who designed his suit,” you say, and Joaquín looks a bit disappointed at that. Now it’s your turn to look at him with a glint in your eyes. “That’s oddly specific. Don’t tell me, you’re a fan?”

“Of course I am,” Joaquín retorts, and Sam laughs, giving him a pat on his shoulder.

“I’m still not introducing you,” he says, and Joaquín pouts. 

You laugh as well, then clasp your hands together, giving your sketchbook one last look.

“Okay, Sam, you’re all done, now it’s your turn.” You turn to Joaquín, who’s looking at you expectantly. “Your suit is in my office, there’s a changing room, you can go put it on there.”

“Hell yeah,” he says, starting towards the office, turning to Sam as he walks backwards. “You’re gonna love this.”

Sam looks at you with confusion and suspicion. 

“Just wait and see,” is all you give him. 

A couple minutes later, Joaquín comes out of the office donning his Falcon suit. Sam looks him up and down, recognising the design.

“Is that…”

“Yep,” Joaquín says with outstretched arms to show off his new look, doing a twirl. 

“The new colour was his idea,” you say, walking all around Joaquín to check if the suit sits properly. You come to a short stop when next to him, and lift your eyes to meet his. “And I think green really suits him.” 

As you continue checking him over, you miss the knowing look that Joaquín and Sam exchange. 

“Oh, this doesn’t look quite right,” you say, noticing how there seems to be extra fabric at his waist, instead of sitting flush. You grab your fabric marker, drawing some lines where you’ll need to take in the sides. Only when you’re done do you realise how close to Joaquín you’ve been standing, and how his gaze is cast to the side, a flustered look on his face. You’re quick to take a step back, thinking you might have made him uncomfortable. 

“So, how does it feel? Any pinching? Can you move properly?” you ask him, perhaps a little too quickly in an attempt to change the subject, and he starts moving his limbs in all possible angles, trying out the suit. “If there’s anything at all, please let me know.” 

You pick up your sketchbook to take some notes as he continues trying out the range of motion. 

“Nope,” Joaquín finally says, coming to a halt, and his smile makes your heart hiccup. “It’s perfect, really.” 

You look away, feeling the heat prickling at your cheeks, and the look Sam is giving you is certainly not helping.

“Well if there’s anything at all, or any ideas you might have later, feel free to add them to the sketchbook,” you say, showing him the page where the Falcon suit design is. “Even if I’m not around, there’s post-it notes in my office. Feel free to write down any ideas you might have.” 

“Will do,” Joaquín says.

“Alright, we’re done then. Thanks to you both,” you say, turning to Sam and then to Joaquín. They both nod in acknowledgement, and you walk back to your office with Joaquín to drop off your sketchbook and materials, leaving it all on your already cluttered desk.

You walk out again so that Joaquín can change in peace, and you see Sam get his phone of his pocket. He reads a text and announces he has to go, so you accompany him outside for a moment to see him off. 

When Joaquín comes back out from changing, he finds the two of you gone. Since he’s still holding the suit, he leaves it on the bench in your office, where there’s piles of fabric and other materials. He lets his eyes roam over the space, strangely endeared by how much it contrasts with the rest of the gym. This corner really feels lived in, he concludes. There’s hints of you everywhere. 

He scans the desk next, seeing little figurines, varying from various animals to faceless wooden people, probably used to design the suits. There’s also several bobbins with coloured thread, post-it notes all over, and the sketchbook. 

A thought occurrs to him of a change for his suit that he wanted to ask about earlier, but then promptly forgot when you ended up so close to him. Since you offered earlier for him to write down his ideas, he decides to do that before he forgets again. Without really looking, he grabs the sketchbook and opens it, his other hand going for the post-it notes and a pen. However his movements come to a sudden stop when his eyes land on the open book. He flips to the next page and realises that is is not your sketchbook. Well, it is, but not the one he meant. 

Joaquín quickly shoots another look to the desk below, only now seeing the other sketchbook peeking out from underneath some other materials which you had used earlier when he was trying on the suit. He knows he shouldn’t snoop, but when his eyes land back on the drawings in his hands, he can’t look away. 

This seems to be your personal sketchbook, full of ink and pencil sketches of different daily objects, landscapes, the gym. He recognises the ducks in a pond to be the park nearby, there’s a couple of sketches of Isaiah, Sam, and then him. Joaquín’s heart flutters as he flips another page. Him again. His mind is screaming that he’s very much intruding in your privacy right now by looking at all of these, but he just can’t stop himself, as he finds that the more pages he flips through, there’s fewer and fewer landscapes and animals and almost every sketch is of him. From the back, pulling weights, smiling, laughing, focused while reading something. The strokes around his face start out a little unsure, a bit squiggly even, like they were drawn in a rush. But with every new sketch, your hand seems to have grown more and more sure, flowing over the page until you knew the shapes by heart, his eyes, the curve of his nose, where each and every mole and freckle sat on his skin. He swallows thickly as he flips one more page, his eyes landing for merely a split second on an unfinished sketch of him from behind with no shirt on, the contours of his nape and shoulders marked over again repeatedly, the lower half only sketched out softly, like you hadn’t had a chance to–

Joaquín looks up at the sound that leaves your throat, something between a shriek and a horrified gasp. You’ve appeared in your office again, but he didn’t hear you approach at all. Your eyes dart between the book in his hands and his face, your own beyond flustered as you realise what he just saw. With quick steps, you shorten the distance and snatch the book from his hands, snapping it closed with a forceful thud. He opens his mouth to apoligise profusely, but you’re quicker.

“You weren’t supposed to see that!” Your voice is squeaky, and the embarrassment and shock on your face shift to something closer to anger. “What were you doing?”

“I swear I didn't mean to snoop!” Joaquín says, raising his hands in defence, then points to his suit still on the bench as he rambles. “Sam and you were gone and I wanted to check the notes on the suit again, but I guess I grabbed the wrong sketchbook, and I’m so sorry, I swear it was an accident.”

You groan, your anger dissipating and making room for the earlier emotions again, and you lift your closed sketchbook to cover your face, shoulders tense as you hide behind it.

“I hope you don’t think I’m a creep or something” you say in a small voice, and he chuckles. That’s not the reaction you expected, so you open your eyes and peek over the book to look at him. An adorable blush starts dusting his cheeks.

“Of course not,” he says softly, fidgeting with some clutter on your desk before bringing his eyes to meet yours. You hide behind the book again. “I’m flattered, truly. I get why Sam calls you Sketch, there’s a lot of them. They’re really good.”

There’s a pause, and your hands tighten around the book. Surely he’s just teasing you.

“You really think so?” you risk the question.

“I do,” he says. You’re still not looking at him, and you think you hear Joaquín take somewhat of a sharp breath. “You know, I’ve been stealing my own fair share of glances at you too, I just lack any artistic skill, otherwise I would–” He stops himself abruptly. You dare peek over the book again, and he looks just as flustered as you do, which you find reassuring, but doesn’t really help you calm down. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you hold his gaze this time.

“What I’m trying to say is that some of the sketches seemed a bit rushed. I wouldn't mind it if you… took your time.”

“Are you offering to model for me?” you say after a moment. His blush darkens a bit, and he nods sheepishly. You need to force yourself to breathe normally. “I’d like that,” you add in a small voice.

In that moment, Isaiah enters the gym and calls Joaquín over. He excuses himself and joins the older man while you sit down at your desk, finally letting go of your book, and find your hands trembling. Did that just happen?

After a moment of just sitting there and looking down at the book, now slightly bent from your grip, Joaquín comes back to your office, and you look up.

“Isaiah is going home, and Sam already left,” he announces, then seems to think something over. “Would you like to grab some dinner? Right now. With me, I mean. Or in a bit. Whenever you have time.”

“Let me just finish up quickly here and I’ll be right outside.” The words leave your mouth before you can even process his request. 

“Okay,” he shoots you a smile so radiant that it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and you hold onto the edge of your chair out of his sight, fearing you might collapse to the floor right then and there.

Without wasting a second once he’s gone, you’re quick to put everything away and place Joaquin’s suit on your desk so that it would be the first thing you work on tomorrow. You put the sketchbook with the design notes in the top drawer, and the one with your personal sketches you pack into your bag. Another wave of heat prickles at your cheeks when you hold it, thinking back to how Joaquín had seen your many drawings of him. 

After you join him outside, Joaquín and you walk to a nearby restaurant, it’s small and there aren’t many people there yet as it’s still pretty early in the evening. Sam and you come here all the time, the atmosphere is cosy and the menu is really good. You guide Joaquín to one of the booths at the end and order some food, a pleasant conversation taking place while you eat.

Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands on the napkin and take out your sketchbook and mechanical pencil, clicking it a couple of times to get the lead out.

“Oh, right now? Okay,” he says, and leans back into his seat. “What should I do?”

You flip the pages as quickly and nonchalantly as you can magange until you land on the last sketch, and you clear your throat.

“M-maybe we’ll leave this one for another time,” you say in a small voice, flipping to the next blank page. Joaquín unsuccessfully tries to bite back a smile at the proposition. You scan the room around you. “Just, uhm, lean your head onto your hand and look to the side for now, at that picture with the flowers for example.” You point to the frame on the wall. 

“Okay,” he breathes, leaning his head on a propped up elbow and lifting his gaze to it, but it flickers back to you. “Should I like, smile, or something?” 

“Whichever you prefer,” you say, and start sketching on the paper. Your eyes dart up to him and then back to the page repeatedly. 

After a moment, when you look up, you find him with his face still tilted like you indicated, but his eyes are on you. Your movements stop and you feel a shudder climb up your spine, but it’s not entirely unpleasant, it makes your skin tingle. You hold your pencil to the page, unable to look away from him.

“You’re supposed to look that way,” you say, gesturing to the side with your chin.

“I like this view better than the flowers, though,” he says, seemingly completely unfazed, while your face is set ablaze. You can’t think of any good comeback, so as you look back down to your sketchbook, you mumble, “Suit yourself.”

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, save for the music and background chatter, where your flustered face shifts into focus, and you work diligently to translate his handsome features onto the page. All the while, he watches you work, enjoying the different expressions you make when you get something wrong and erase it, or when you finally figure it out and confidently place stroke after stroke onto the paper. As he comes to the conclusion that he could watch you forever and never get bored of the sight, another blush spreads on his cheeks, and he has to look away for a moment. 

Once you’re done, you add final details here and there, then place down your pencil and hold up your book, checking the drawing over. He drops his hand onto the table, expectantly waiting to see the finished product.

“It’s done,” you say, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious, and for a moment you consider not showing him. But after he sat so still for you, how could you not? So, gathering some more courage, you quickly turn the sketchbook around, placing it into his waiting hands, and you bring your gaze down to the table while he inspects it.

“Wow,” Joaquín breathes, and warmth spreads in your chest. “This is… This is incredible.”

“You like it?” you ask, daring to bring your eyes up to meet his.

“Of course!” He looks it over once more, pink still sprinkled on his cheeks, then gives you back the book. “You’re a fantastic artist. Thank you for drawing me.” 

He looks like he wants to add something else, but then decides against it. Your brows furrow slightly.

“What? What is it?” Your mind immediately goes to negative comments, like he was about to follow up with a ‘but’, saying that it didn’t even look like him, or that you brought out all his worst features and insecurities. 

“How do I put this,” he says more to himself than you, propping up his elbows on the edge of the table and bringing his closed hands to his chin. It takes him a second to find the right words, and when he looks up to meet your gaze, your heart skips a beat. A warm smile starts spreading on his lips as he talks. “Compared to the ducks in the pond, I feel like you put more care and attention to detail into drawing me. Seeing myself through the eyes of someone who… You know. Someone like you. I kinda feel invincible right now.”

You can’t help but laugh heartily, not in a mocking manner, but more so in relief, as you feel exactly the same. 

“Well, I’m glad I could give you a glimpse, then,” you say, and for a moment, you’re so lost in each others’ eyes, you don’t see the waiter approach. 

“I hope everything was to your taste,” the guy says in a practiced customer service voice, and you both jump slightly. He starts taking your empty plates that you pushed aside. “Would you like to ordersome  dessert?”

Joaquín and you decide to share some ice cream, and once you’re done, he pays for the meal despite your protests, insisting that it was him who invited you to dinner after all, and you walk back to his car. 

“I’ll make sure to have your suit done first thing tomorrow,” you promise when you arrive, and your hand reaches out to open the door, but he takes it in his instead, interlocking your fingers, and you turn toward him with big eyes.

“I may not be an artist,” he says seemingly out of nowhere, stepping closer while still giving you enough space to back off if you wanted to. “But I can give you a glimpse of how I see you in other ways.”

Your brain short circuits for a second, taken completely off-guard by his comment. His other hand comes up to your face, softly brushing his knuckles over your cheek, which surely feels much too hot to the touch. You’re now somewhat trapped between Joaquín and the car, while he’s still making sure you can step aside, but you have no intention of doing that. So your own hands come up, trembling a bit, and you place them on this chest. He takes that as a sign to get even closer, and you can feel his racing heart through his shirt, matching your own erratic heartbeat. 

“For example?” you demand, but your voice is so weak, you're not entirely sure if he heard you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and his hand fully cups your cheek. “I’ll admit I've been wanting to for a while now.”

Unable to produce a single word, you merely nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he leans in. It’s still pretty early and there could be people walking by and see you, but you don’t care. Once his lips are on yours, the whole world around you disappears. You’re glad the car holds part of your weight and you can partially lean onto it, since your legs seem close to give out underneath you. The hand on your face cradles the back of your head while the other snakes around your waist. Joaquín kisses you slowly, tenderly. He gingerly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and gives it a slight tug, and he swallows the shaky breath that escapes you, his mouth on yours again. 

The kiss lasts forever and not nearly long enough at the same time, and when he pulls back, you blink a couple of times, looking up him.

“Wow,” is all you manage to say, and he chuckles, backing off you so you can stand properly again. He opens the door for you and you take a seat, still unable to form a single coherent thought.

Joaquín walks around the front of the car and climbs in as well, turning on the navigation system.

“Where to?” he asks, and when he turns to look at you, waiting for you to tell him you address, you grab the collar of his bomber jacket, pulling him close to you once more to give him another kiss. But before he can fully melt into it, you let him go, and quickly sit back.

“Sorry, oh god.” You cover your face with your hands, and he chuckles again. He gently pries your fingers away so you look at him, and gives your hand a squeeze. 

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing your hand to his face and placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

The way his eyes glisten in the dark, only illuminated by the street light outside the car, sends an explosion of butterflies straight through your gut and you have to look away. To distract yourself from the erratic pace your heart is beating at, you bring your attention to the console and enter your address, starting the navigator. Joaquín starts the car and you take off. 

“Will you come back by the gym again tomorrow?” you ask after a while.

“If it were up to me, I’d be there every day,” he says, and you feel even more heat spread on your face, if that’s even possible. “I’ll try my best to come by, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay…” 

“Maybe you can finish that one sketch of yours,” he says with a smug grin, and you playfully hit his shoulder with an embarrassed groan as you remember the drawing of his bare back you had started on a whim but couldn't bring yourself to finish. 

As Joaquín drives you home and you sneak another looks at his side profile, you realise that at this rate you'll need a new sketchbook, dedicated entirely to him.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @f1-tennisgirlie @magikdarkholme @tsunchani @Chuchu8293 @bitchy-bi-trash @guynamedaurel @crumbledcastle28 @sarahskywalker-amidala @crazy4lyricb

[nathanbatemanfucker]

hii, your fanfics are amazing I LOVEEEE them. Could I please request some pregnancy fic with Joaquin. I’m begging you I need it to live😩

Thank youu xoxo

Little Loves

about this; wc: 642, pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader, contents: fluff, pregnancy, weird food cravings, an: this was such a pleasure to write, I love a little fluffy moment, hope u enjoy!

danny ramirez characters masterlist

Joaquin wakes with a start, his hand finding nothing but the cold, silky sheets your shared bed is adorned with. He glances at the clock and sees that it’s 3 a.m.

Usually, if he woke up in bed alone, he would be worried about you—but your pregnancy hasn’t been an easy one. Sleep’s been hard for you; you can’t hardly get comfortable, or the baby shifts around too much as he’s grown.

There are a few places he could find you. Sometimes, you like to sit in the rocking chair in the nursery, and other times, he finds you laid out on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position.

The last place he usually finds you is where he does. You’re sitting on the kitchen floor, your round belly peeking out of your tank top, with various snacks strewn about.

Your eyes are closed as you lean against the cabinets, popping a peanut butter-dipped Oreo in your mouth before following it with a scoop of strawberry jelly.

Joaquin is used to strange things—Sam has schooled him on his big three: androids, aliens, and wizards. So it doesn’t phase him that once you’re done with your PBJ Oreo, you’re dipping a pickle in shaved ice.

“You’ok?” you mumble through bites.

“Are you?” he teases through a yawn. He maneuvers his way through your food maze and lowers himself to sit beside you, his shoulder bumping yours lightly before he stretches his legs out.

“I was hungry,” you say defensively. “Tu bebé tiene un apetito.”

“Our baby,” he corrects softly, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His touch is slow, unthinking, like he’s trying to soothe the baby back to sleep. “Tienes hambre de algo más?”

“Mmm,” you pause, growing thoughtful as you think of all the options. Joaquin’s been thorough, making sure the kitchen is stocked with anything you could possibly want. “Those powdered donuts? Oh, and—and the cranberry juice?”

“Seguro, mi amor.”

You watch him move through the kitchen with grace, making quick work of your requests. When he comes to join again, he has a bag of spicy chips in his hand.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Figured I needed a snack if I was gonna keep you company.”

“Joaquin, you don’t have to stay up with me. Aren’t you and Sam heading out in a couple days?” you ask, ripping open the bag of donuts.

“Of course I have to. I’m your husband. And I want to,” he assures you. The hand not buried in a bag of chips finds its way back to your belly, tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin.

“You know, if I hadn’t married you already, I’d think you were too good to be true.” You lean over, resting your head on his shoulder, sighing when his fingers shift to rub lazy patterns along your back.

Joaquin drops a kiss on your forehead before shoveling a handful of chips into his mouth. “Means I got a good reputation.”

“Mhmm,” you murmur sleepily.

The two of you stay like that, exchanging sweet little quips through munching and crunching. Joaquin keeps his hand on your belly, rubbing absentmindedly while your breathing slows. Eventually, you doze off, your weight sinking heavier into him. He can tell by the way your breath evens out and the little hum you let out just before fully relaxing.

He doesn’t have the heart to wake you up, knowing how difficult it can be for you to get to sleep.

Sure, his back might ache a little in the morning by sleeping upright beside you, and he’ll have to restock some of your favorite snacks. But those are small inconveniences in the wake of your happiness.

He settles in, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close before letting his own eyes flutter shut. “Dulces sueños, mi amorcitos.”

lmk if you’d like to be on the sfw joaquin torres masterlist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @jaebugzz, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69, @moonymeloncholymoney, @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967, @lanoviadestiles, @zolassalgorhythm, @peacefangirl

[galaxywannabe]

Listen I know I promised a Bucky fic and it's COMING I SWEAR but I need to get this Joaquín headcanon out of my brain because it's been bouncing around in there for like a week and I can't make it stop.

Imagine Joaquín and reader who constantly call each other babygirl.

At first it started out as a complete joke.

You walk into the Captain America office one day to visit him for lunch with a big ass grin on your face, strutting right up to his station.

"Hi babygirl, whatchu doin?"

His brow crinkles with bewildered amusement, a huff of a laugh escaping his lips as he stands to wrap his arms around you.

"Babygirl?"

You shrug, nonchalant, but there's a mischievous glint in your eyes. You'd been cooking up that greeting the whole drive over here, eager to see his reaction to the new petname.

"What? You call me that all the time, I thought I'd try it out on you. What do we think, does it fit?" You tease.

He can't even pretend not to be completely enamored by everything you do, his amusement unmistakable as he gets a grin on his face to match yours.

"Babygirl, huh? Yeah, no, I think it works. I think it's cool, it's manly for sure." He tries to look serious as he nods his agreement, but he can't pull it off with his megawatt smile.

-

It was just a stupid one-off joke to get a reaction out of him, but you can't help teasing him with it later on when you're at home in your shared apartment.

He pops his head into the bedroom where you're reading a book, looking slightly flustered as he rushes to get dressed for guys' night with about 5 minutes to spare.

"Babygirl, have you seen my watch?"

You smirk fondly at his disheveled appearance, button-down only half buttoned, wallet and keys hastily shoved into the back pockets of his jeans.

"I don't know, babygirl, have you checked the charger?" You sass, your brows raised expectantly.

He freezes for a moment, buffering a little at the rather obvious suggestion, and then his face breaks out into a grateful smile.

"Totally. I totally already checked there. Thanks, babygirl." He winks, dashing out of your room to grab his apple watch and - you're hoping - button the rest of his shirt.

-

From then on, it's just...a thing. An inside joke between the two of you. And honestly it doesn't take long before it's such a force of habit, you guys forget that it's weird for you to call your boyfriend 'babygirl'.

A few weeks later Sam is over at your place. Joaquín and him are sitting on the couch in front of some sports game you pretend to vaguely understand, chatting and exchanging stories. You're nearby, listening but trying not to intrude on the bonding moment. Your man calls over his shoulder, his eyes not quite able to leave the action on screen long enough to look at you.

"Babygirl, can you grab me another beer, please?"

You roll your eyes fondly. The man usually dotes on you hand and foot, but when it's game time, you don't mind taking a turn so he can keep watching balls go through hoops or whatever. You grab his requested beverage and walk it over, holding it out with a teasing smirk.

"This one's free, but you gotta pay for the next one, babygirl."

Joaquín just chuckles at your antics, accepting the cold beer with a grin.

"Man, the bartender here's really strict..."

That first time he hears you say it, Sam pauses for a second, confused, but brushes it off pretty easily. Maybe he'd misheard you. Torres didn't react, after all, and he definitely would have if you'd said what Sam thought you said...right?

But maybe an hour or so later, you do it again, and Sam knows it's not a fluke. You've been yawning heavily for the past several minutes, and it's pretty obvious you're fading fast from the way you jolt upright in surprise when Joaquín yells at a referee on the TV screen.

You sigh, finally admitting defeat. "Alright, I'm sorry boys, I think I've gotta call it an early night. You'll just have to let me know who won tomorrow."

You walk over to Sam first, and he stands to let you give him a hug. "Sam, so great seeing you as always. You're always welcome here to drink my beers and entertain my boyfriend."

He laughs at that, and you turn to said boyfriend next, leaning down to kiss his cheek with a sleepy smile.

"Will you please clean up out here when you guys are done?"

Joaquín nods, distracted by the screen but taking a moment to meet your eyes to indicate he's heard you. "Yeah, babygirl, 'course I will. Sleep tight, we'll try not to be too loud out here."

You snort, rolling your eyes. He can 'try' all he likes, your man doesn't stand a chance at maintaining a normal volume if his team starts to lose. You glance at the score on the screen, relieved to see they're up by a few points.

"Alright, I'll hold you to that. Goodnight, babygirl, I love you."

There's no mistaking the way he makes direct eye contact with you as you say it, or the way he smiles adoringly as he responds.

"I love you too, babe."

Sam's brain screeches to a halt, and he stares at you like you're two dogs who suddenly got up and started dancing the flamenco.

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwait. Hold up. Did you just call him 'babygirl'? Twice? And he let you?!"

It takes a second for you to even register what he's so worked up about, but when you do a Cheshire grin spreads across your face. You pause, exaggeratedly tapping your chin as you recall the past couple of hours.

"Hmm...yep. Sure did. Wow, only twice? That's honestly pretty tame for us, sometimes I feel like it's every other word out of our mouths," you chuckle, thoroughly enjoying both Sam's reaction and the brand new shade of red your boyfriend is turning.

Sam's mouth opens and closes a few times, bewildered by your nonchalance, the way you act like this is something normal couples do every day. Then he turns on Joaquín, shifting on the couch to face him better with an imploring gaze.

"Torres, man, you let your girl call you babygirl? That's her nickname for you, really?"

Joaquín looks like he'd rather be anywhere else right now, and if it wasn't so goddamn funny you would almost feel bad for him. Sam's his mentor, practically an older sibling to him, and he's always trying to impress the guy or emulate him in some way. But there is not one single thing that's cool about letting your girlfriend call you 'babygirl', and you can see the horror in poor Joaquín's eyes as he realizes that fact. He's never gonna live this down, and for a moment you even wonder if he'll try and deny it.

But your heart skips a beat when, after a moment of awkward silence, Joaquín just rubs the back of his neck and grins sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders like 'what are ya gonna do?'

"Uh...yeah, it is. It started out as a joke, but then it just kinda stuck, and now I honestly don't even notice when she says it, it's so normal" he admits, bright red but honest.

And goddamn if your heart doesn't grow three sizes that day. Cause your boyfriend just admitted in front of his hero that he lets you call him 'babygirl,' and he's definitely embarrassed, but he's trying not to be ashamed of it for your sake. Your grin melts to a soft, adoring smile as you look up at him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it encouragingly.

"You tell him, babygirl."

-

AHHH okay I'm so sorry I don't know WHY I couldn't get this idea out of my head thank you for humoring me. I wrote this on my phone in like half an hour so I know it's pretty sloppy and I know it's very dumb but for some reason it was one of the first thoughts I had after seeing the movie 😭

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Only Want Your Kiss

Fandom: Marvel (Actor AU)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x F!Reader

Summary: Joaquin is head over heels in love with you. You know this and he knows you know this, BUT he still feels bad whenever he has to kiss and be intimate with another actor. Which always leads to you receiving some extra love from him.

A/N: Inspired by this TikTok.

You Joaquin was an actor when he asked you out. You've seen some of his work, hell, you became a fan of his work! When he told you he got cast in an indie romance film, you were happy for him, of course!

But then he sat you down.

"So I was reading through the script."

"Yeah, and?"

"There's some kissing and slightly steamy scenes involved in this film."

You slowly nod, "Alright."

"I just, you know, I wanted to make sure you're okay with that. I auditioned for this role before we got together and now we're together and plan on moving in and everything, I wanted to check in to make sure this kind of stuff is okay with you."

You softly smile at him, "Of course it is, Joaquin. It's your job, I know you don't mean anything by it."

"You sure? Because if anything, I could get a body double for the steamy scenes-"

"Will there an intimacy coordinator available?"

He nods, "Yeah."

"Then we're good."

"Okay...you sure?"

You can't help but let out a laugh of disbelief, "I am! Honestly, babe, I really appreciate you telling me and checking in with me about this."

"Of course. When we first started talking, you said communication is one of your biggest things in a relationship. I want to make sure I never unintentionally hate you or ruin what we have," he reaches out and interlaces his fingers with yours.

You lean in and peck his lips, "I love you." It'd been a few months since you two exchange those words to each other, and it still brings a smile to Joaquin's face when he hears them.

"I love you too."

____________________________

Joaquin told you he'd be coming over after work with some food and to spend time with you. You expected him.

However, what you didn't expect was for him to immediately push you up against the door, lips pressing against yours.

You giggle into the kiss and push him back a bit, "This is a nice welcome, but what for?"

"Missed you is all," he mumbles and pecks your lips again. He takes a step back, "Go ahead and sit on the couch. I'll plate the food."

"I can help-"

"No, no, baby. Go on. I got it." he welcomes himself into your kitchen and begins to pull out plates and bowls for the takeout he brought.

It takes a few minutes, but eventually he's coming out with two plates in hand. He hands you yours and then sets his on the coffee table. He rushes back to the kitchen and comes back with a glass of your favorite drink.

You look at him confused, "What's going on? You're acting weird."

"I promise, baby, nothing's wrong," he kisses your head and sits beside you on the couch.

He then puts on your favorite show, and eats in silence beside you. Throughout the episode, you side-eye him. He watches the show intently, while shoveling food into his mouth. Every once in a while, he'll make a comment on what's happening on the show, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Once you two are full, he places your feet onto his lap and begins massaging them.

You try to think what might've happened at work for him to behave oddly. Then you remembered: he was filming the kissing scene today.

You giggle and Joaquin's attention is pulled from the tv show to you, "What's up?"

"Are you doing this because you kissed someone else?" you ask with a smirk.

He looks away from you sheepishly, "Maybe..."

You giggle, pulling your feet away and moving closer to him, "Joaquin, I told you it's fine. I know it's just work to you."

"I still feel bad. I just-I don't wanna fuck things up with you. You told me how poorly your exes treated you and I don't wanna end up like them."

You practically melt at his reasoning. You already know that Joaquin will never be like your exes. Even from the first day of meeting him, you knew he was different from the rest of them. He made sure you were comfortable, never pressed too hard on things. He took his time and went at a slow pace because you wanted to.

You cup his face in your hands, "I love you. And I can tell you with one hundred percent confidence, that you will never be like my exes. Because of how considerate and communicative you are, you've already surpassed all of them."

He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, "I just wanna remind you that I care about you. That you're loved and I always wanna make sure you're okay."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, "See? My exes would never." And that has you both chuckling.

Joaquin wipes away a rogue tear that runs down your cheek, "I hope the only tears I make you shed are ones of happiness and love."

You giggle, "Didn't you say that in one of your movies?"

He pauses for a moment and then nods, "Yeah...I think I did. Damn, I thought I was original for that one."

You full on laugh this time, "You're such a dork," and you kiss his lips, which he happily kisses back.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

14: A WILSON WELCOME

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Summary: You and Bucky arrive in Louisiana for a weekend of pretend coupledom, but tensions run high as nerves, old friendships, and unexpected emotions come into play. A seemingly innocent bouquet of flowers stirs something in you, and an unexpected conversation with Sarah Wilson leaves you questioning just how much you really know about the man you’re pretending to be with.

Warnings: Mutual pining & emotional turmoil, fake dating, one bed situation, brief angst, but also fluff, Bucky being bad at feelings (but trying!), found family vibes

Word Count: 2819

The drive from the airport to Delacroix had been quiet at first, the atmosphere in the car was one of anxiety and anticipation. The view outside the car was incredible and, it being your first time in Louisiana, you made sure to take everything in. You glanced over at Bucky, his grip on the steering wheel just a little tight as he navigated the unfamiliar roads. He had been rather surly during the flight.

“You okay?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He glanced at you briefly. “Yeah. You?”

You nodded, avoiding mentioning how your stomach was doing back flips and your nerve endings were fried from the number of signals that were being sent to your brain telling you to go home. Seeing Sam and Torres again after the fiasco at Bucky’s birthday, meeting Sam’s sister, pretending to be Bucky’s girlfriend for a whole long weekend— it was a lot for you.

“You think Alpine will be alright on her own?” you mused, looking for something to fill the awkward silence and to stop you thinking about the show you and Bucky would shortly have to put on for everyone.

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed a little, having something else to focus on. “She’ll be fine. She’s got her own life; I think I just live in it. Plus, I left her enough food for three cats. She’ll probably actually enjoy having the place all to herself.”

An image of Alpine sprawled across the couch entered your mind, living life like the queen she was born to be. “She’s probably celebrating our absence and our ridiculous antics. Bringing her friends over and showing off her life of luxury!” you smiled.

He smirked. “Probably plotting my downfall. That cat’s smarter than she looks.”

You both laughed, easing the tension you’d both been feeling. The car slowed as Bucky pressed the brakes and pulled into a gas station. “I’m gonna fill up,” he said, pulling into a spot near the pumps.

It was the perfect opportunity for you to get out and stretch your legs as he moved around to refuel. You walked to the edge of the station where there was a florist with a little stand. The warm breeze carried the scent of the flowers over to you and you took a minute to enjoy the sunshine and open air. You ventured a little further afield, taking in your new surroundings and admiring the way the horizon stretched out in front of you.

When you turned back towards the car, you spotted Bucky handing over cash to the florist, in exchange for a beautiful bouquet of flowers, vibrant yellows and pastel pinks wrapped in delicate paper. You froze, watching as he glanced around, as if worried someone might catch him, before tucking the bouquet quickly into the trunk.

A surge of excitement filled your chest. Flowers? Were they for you? A smile crept across your face. When you got back to the car, you tried to act nonchalant, failing miserably to hide your grin. Was this Bucky’s way of trying to apologize for his grumpiness? A kind gesture for joining him for the weekend?

Whatever his reasons might be, you felt a warmth spreading through you and for the first time since you’d left home, you thought that there might be hope for the weekend, after all. Instead of sulking and losing yourself to your own anxieties, you spent the rest of the drive trying to draw Bucky out of his own head by asking him everything from his favorite snacks to the music he used to listen to. His responses were curt at first, but eventually, he softened, rolling his eyes at your music choices and reminiscing about old songs from a jukebox he once loved, his tone lighter than you had heard it for a while.

The two of you laughed together as though you were old friends.  The tension began to creep back in as the scenery shifted, signalling your arrival in Delacroix. Sam’s text came through confirming the address of the hotel he had booked for the two of you and you directed Bucky through the smaller road.

“Looks like we’re in the right place,” you said as Bucky pulled into an official looking parking lot.

“How’d you know?”

“The Falcon on the porch is a dead giveaway,” you answered in a deadpan voice.

Bucky sighed, catching sight of Sam reclined on the porch swing as it swayed gently in the breeze. There was a baseball cap over his eyes and a blade of grass in his mouth. As you stepped out of the car, the humid Louisiana air wafted around you while the symphony of cicadas surrounded you. Sam jumped down the stairs to meet you.

“‘Bout time y’all made it,” he called, striding over to clap Bucky on the shoulder. “Thought you got lost.”

“GPS works just fine,” Bucky grumbled playfully.

Sam turned to you next, welcoming you with a hug. “You holding up okay with this guy?” he asked, nodding his head at a surly looking Bucky

You laughed. “He won’t admit it, but he is pretty excited to be here. So am I.”

“Good,” he said, grabbing your bags before you could protest. “Let me show you where you’re staying.”

You and Bucky followed Sam into the quaint hotel, weaving through the lobby and up a narrow flight of stairs. People called out to Sam in greeting but he waved them off, treating you like the guest of honor. The hotel was old but had a Louisiana charm, with faded floral wallpaper lining its walls and the faint smell of lavender lingered in the hallway.

“Ta-da!” Sam announced with theatrical flair as he threw open the door to your room. He set your bag down inside and stepped back to grin at the two of you like he had just unveiled a gallery masterpiece 

You stepped inside and took a look around the room. It had character— slightly faded floral curtains, a small vintage couch and a vanity which displayed a basket of dried flowers which would have been charming, if not for the room’s centerpiece— the bed.

Your gaze settled on it with a look of horror. In the middle of the room was an impossibly narrow double bed. It barely looked large enough for Bucky to sleep comfortably on his own, let alone squeeze you in. You glanced at Bucky, whose expression mirrored your thoughts exactly— disbelief and dread.

“Make yourselves at home,” Sam said cheerfully, clapping Bucky on the shoulder and adding with a wink when he was out of your eye line. “I’ll catch up with you two later, alright? Gotta get back to Sarah before she sends out a search party.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky grumbled.

Sam was already halfway down the hall, leaving you and Bucky standing awkwardly in the room. The large room with the impossibly small bed.

“Well,” you said after a prolonged awkward silence, “this should be interesting.”

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You aren’t built for the couch!”

“Yeah, well, that’s—” Bucky gestured at the bed, “not built for this, either.” He gave you a look that was equal parts sarcasm and despair.

The tension you’d been feeling was eased by Bucky’s fatalism and despite yourself, a small laugh escaped your lips. “Chill, Barnes. I’m sure we’ll figure this out.”

He gave you a side glance and a skeptically raised eyebrow. “Not so sure I trust your definition of ‘figure it out.’”

“Oh, come on. I’m not that bad, am I?”

Bucky’s face softened and he murmured. “Not bad, not bad at all.”

The awkward bed discussion was put aside while you unpacked and freshened up in your shared hotel room. Sam had insisted that the two of you come to his home so you could meet his family, so once you were ready, the two of you made your way to the Wilson residence.

The heat outside hit you as soon as you stepped outside the building, the earthy smell of the water on the bayou permeated your nostrils. The house was already decorated for the festivities and the lights outside twinkled in the fading sunlight.

Sam flung open the door to greet you. “Look who decided to show up!” he teased.

The Wilson home exuded warmth and hospitality and they welcomed you with open arms. Almost immediately, Sam’s nephews bolted toward Bucky, grabbing at his arm and begging him to play with them.

“Be right there boys,” he said with a soft smile that made your heart melt.

You could hear laughter and a clatter of dishes from the kitchen where Sarah and another man, presumably her fiancé, were busy preparing dinner..

“Sarah! Dante!” Sam called out. “Get in here; the Yankees finally made it!”

Sarah appeared first, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Her face lit up when she saw you and Bucky. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the city folk,” she teased, striding over to Bucky and pulling him into a warm hug. He hugged her back without hesitation, his face relaxing into something softer than you were used to seeing.

Dante followed close behind, a warm smile on his face. “You must be Bucky and…” he trailed off, looking at you.

You held out your hand, meeting his with a firm shake and an introduction. “It’s nice to meet you both. Congratulations on the upcoming wedding, it’s so nice of you to have me.”

You were busy greeting everyone when you noticed Bucky shift beside you. Then, to your surprise, he pulled out the bouquet of flowers from behind his back. The same arrangement of pinks and yellows that you’d seen him tucking into the trunk earlier today.

“These are for you,” he said, handing them to Sarah with a sheepish grin. “From… us. You know, congratulations on the big day.”

His words barely registered as you stared at the flowers. Your flowers. Only they weren’t for you. Your mind felt fuzzy with disappointment. The chaos of the bed fiasco at the hotel had all but driven the floral arrangement from your mind. How could you have thought he had bought them for you?

Sarah’s delighted smile and thanks snapped you back to the present moment. “Oh, these are beautiful! Thank you so much, both of you,” she said, squeezing your hand for a second.

Dante chuckled, taking Sarah’s free hand. “You didn’t have to do that, but we appreciate it.”

Your mouth formed a practiced smile, one you hope would hide the sting in your chest. You nodded along politely, letting their thanks wash over you, but inside, the ache refused to fade.

Meanwhile, Bucky had moved on, falling into an easy conversation with Sam and Dante. Cass and AJ bounced on the sidelines, eagerly waiting for Bucky’s attention. As you glanced at him, he seemed oblivious to your plight. Why did it even matter so much?

There was a moment where you were lost in your thoughts, brought back to the present when Sarah hooked her arm through yours. She led you into the kitchen with a warm but curious smile. “Come on, let the boys catch up. I think you and I need to have a little chat.”

You followed her into the epicentre of the Wilson home, a cozy kitchen which was now filled with the aroma of spices and home cooking. The counter was covered with bowls of chopped vegetables, discarded measuring cups and a pitcher of iced tea.

“Make yourself useful,” Sarah teased, throwing you a towel to dry a stack of dishes while she picked up a knife and started slicing lemons for the tea.

“Wow, this is quite the set up you’ve got here,” you said, picking up a dish from the drying rack and getting to work. “Impressive!”

“Well, someone has to do the hard work to keep things running smoothly,” she smirked, glancing over at you. She stopped slicing the lemons to give you a once-over. “So… you and Bucky, huh?”

The air suddenly grew noticeably thicker. Here we go, you thought. You kept your focus on the plate you were drying, wiping it repeatedly even though the china was now bone dry.

“Yeah.” You gave Sarah a tight smile, hoping she wouldn’t press the subject of your relationship.

She raised an eyebrow, humming softly as though she wasn’t done. She wasn’t. “You know, I’m impressed, I honestly never saw this coming. Bucky’s not exactly the… sharing type.”

“Sharing?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

“You know, about his life. Letting someone in. It’s not exactly his strong suit.” Sarah tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, studying you carefully. “How much do you actually know about him?”

“I…” you paused, trying to find the right answer. “I know he’s been through a lot.”

Sarah laughed softly, as though she saw through your vagueness. “Bucky’s been through more than ‘a lot’. He’s lost people, his home, his past. And some days, I think he’s still trying to figure out where he fits in our world.”

The weight of Sarah’s words settled over you like a dense fog and for a moment you felt like you couldn’t breathe. How dare she suggest that she knew Bucky better than you did— oh, right. He wasn’t really your boyfriend.

Desperately you tried to hide the mix of emotions swirling around inside you: guilt— because Sarah’s questions reminded you how little you truly knew about the man you were pretending to be in a relationship with, and defensive— because her comments made you feel exposed, as if the cracks in your charade were already on show to those around you.

“He doesn’t really like to talk about it,” you admitted, the quietness in your voice sounding like a confession of your guilt. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt ashamed of yourself. 

Why hadn’t you asked him for more? Should you have pushed him to open up? What right did you even have to pry into his life?

You dropped your gaze to the plate in your hand, using the dish towel to trace the pattern around its rim. “I mean, he’s mentioned a few things…” The words tumbled out without you thinking. “But I don’t know if he—”

You stopped as the words practically constricted in your throat. I don’t know if he trusts me enough to tell me. The thought made your stomach drop— not because you blamed him for this, but because it was the painful truth. There had been moments of vulnerability he had shared with you— letting you bond with Alpine, the soft melancholy that had washed over him when he talked about Steve, the rare moments where he let his guard down and you had felt closer to him than anyone else you’d known. Those were the fleeting glimpses into the real Bucky that you treasured.

But you knew there was more… more to Bucky than he had shared. Had you even scratched the surface? Under his sarcastic brooding exterior, how many layers of guilt, grief and resilience were hidden away?

And why you? Why had he chosen you to play this role, when he could have found someone who he wanted to be himself with, someone who would meet Sarah’s expectations, someone who cared for him in the way he deserved? 

But maybe that was the problem. The vulnerability of a real relationship. Maybe this game of pretend you both shared was safer than the risk that came with baring your soul and the hurt that almost inevitably came with it. But what if maybe— just maybe— Bucky had agreed to this because he didn’t expect anyone to show up for him. 

The thought made your heart ache.

“That sounds like our Bucky. He’s not big on opening up. But he’s a good man. Just…” She hesitated, as if she was choosing her next words very carefully. “If you’re going to be in his life… please, be patient with him. He needs someone who understands the weight he carries.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, softly.

Sarah’s scrutinizing gaze softened, as if sensing your doubt, and she smiled at you with the same warmth that Sam showed you. “I’m just saying this because I care about him. He’s like family. And if he’s bringing you here, that means something.”

You nodded, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions she had stirred up inside you. The tension was broken by Cass who ran into the kitchen demanding snacks. Sarah tossed a few carrot sticks to the disappointed looking boy and went back to her cooking. “Well I think that’s enough of an interrogation for one day. We have a whole weekend full of chaos and festivities to get to know each other!”

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

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Posting schedule will be Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays around 2.30pm EST / 11.30am PST / 7.30pm BST

[nightwingshero]

Leon Kennedy - Brianna Torres - Ashley Graham

1/2 gift for @gummibrit for the Resident Evil Exchange Event by @sstewyhosseini

[happypopcornprincess]

Do I have an exam tommorow? Yes.

Am I going to post a sneak peek of my WIP of Joaquin torres x reader? Yes.

Joaquin Torres WIP Sneak Peek

“Trying to hide behind the curtains again are we y/n?” Bucky’s voice made you look to your right, and there he was. Standing next to you wearing a sharp three-piece black suit, his hair slicked back.

You finally understood what Steve meant when he would say girls back then would throw themselves at Bucky.

He turned to you in disgust, “Are you checking me out?”

“You wish, asshole.” You mutter in your glass.

You and Bucky had developed an unlikely friendship after the blip bought him back. He was pardoned, and moved into a quaint apartment complex deep in the city, unknown to the fact that you lived right next to his place.

“You see Sam anywhere?” he asks you nonchalantly.

You give him a sly smirk, “Why? Can’t wait to shove your tongue down his throat?”

Bucky gives you a sideward glance, and goes back to looking at the crowd.

He was still figuring out his feelings towards both men and women, especially towards one man.

Returning from the Flag Smashers situation, he would not shut up how ‘annoying’ and ‘frustratingly righteous’ Sam Wilson is, how his smirk makes him want to ‘strangle’ him.

You asked him one evening if he was having a ‘full-on-bi-panic’ and he threw a pillow at your face.

“y/n! there you are!” Sam bellows as he walks towards the two of you, wearing a crisp grey suit over a white button up, looking as dapper as always.

“Sam!” you laugh, giving him a tight hug. He was your mentor, someone you looked up to. And hopefully your bestie’s future boyfriend.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!” he threw you one of his classic smiles as he retreated.

You look down to the pastel pink knee length dress you were wearing.

Hustling the life of an avenger straight out of MIT, it was the only dress you owned. And after paying for it out of your own pocket you realize fancy dresses cost a hand and a leg, and you refuse to part from it.

“Thank you Sam I-” you were about to thank him but stopped once you noticed him absolutely gawking at Bucky.

“Hey Bucky.” He smiled.

“Hey Sam.” Bucky gave him a nod.

You almost roll your eyes at the exchange, wondering when they will move on from the weird talking phase.

“Hello.”

An angelic voice interrupted your train of thoughts. Looking away your eyes meet a pair of the warmest brown eyes. He was standing behind Sam. A tall, tan-skinned man, wearing a crisp black suit stood in front of you. His curls fell on his forehead, and his smile was intoxicating.

He looked like a high surf tide; calling out for you to test the waters.

You extend your right hand, smiling at him. “Hey, I’m y/n”

He held it with his right, it made your heart race when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his hands warm and his lips soft, sending a jolt through your body.

Oh, he’s mischief alright!

You were left speechless when he straightened, a smirk thrown out your way as Sam spoke up, “This is the guy I told y’all about! Lt. Joaquin Torres.” He slapped a hand on Joaquin’s back, smiling with pride.

“You haven’t had a drink yet Lieutenant? Let’s get you something.” you smile involuntarily.

He stands back for you to lead the way, “Sure. And it’s just Joaquin, please.” he laughs just after, his honey laced voice paired with your tad bit hazy mind doing wonders to your imagination.

OUT NOW!

TAGLIST

@sorchathered @ilovetaquitosmmmm @angelaristotle @allisonsalvatore392 @lovaticwarrior92 @maddywulfston @valianttyrantexpert @vanydelaire @eccentric-nos @elissalam @krismdavis @fenwin @nylastofus @peanutweanut @mistress-of-myself @lookitsgrim @darkmagazineblaze @nolita-fairytale @mrkrychek @withahintofpestoaioli

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[calif0rnia-lovers]

heartbeats - prologue.

series masterlist

pairing: joaquin torres x mutant!reader

sum: When a highly sought-after mutant's safe house is compromised, Sam Wilson entrusts her protection to the unassuming Lieutenant Joaquin Torres. Tasked with transporting her to a rendezvous point, Joaquin is unaware of the full extent of her importance. Convincing her he's the man for the job proves to be a difficult task.

“You’re not getting her.”

“Do you realize the kind of shit your friend got you into?” Kane taunted. "Huh? I bet he didn't even tell you what she can do."

Kane’s dark chuckle echoed ominously through the town square, an unsettling contrast to the distant sounds of the festival you and Joaquin had escaped.

A memory flashed in Joaquin’s mind, a brief but intense exchange with Sam Wilson merely a week and half ago.

Sam studied Joaquin's face. For the first time, in the time he'd known him, Joaquin was silent. His focus, not spent on studying your file but, on your picture.

“So…she's a mutant. Like Wolverine?” Joaquin had asked, his voice edged with concern.

“It's complicated," Sam had replied, shaking his head. “She’s—there’s no one like her.”

“What’s that mean?” Joaquin pressed, seeking clarity. Trying to find answers in the pair of innocent eyes looking back at him. In your hastily taken photo you appeared normal.

Sam had sighed deeply, his gaze serious. “Can’t say.”

“Come on, man. You can trust me,” Joaquin had urged. "I'm not gonna tell anyone--"

“I know, kid. And I do. That’s why you’re the only one I’ve asked to do this. But the less you know, about her abilities, the better.”

The memory dissolved as Joaquin refocused, his gun shifting with precision to point directly at Kane’s heart. The muzzle gleamed ominously in the dim light.

“I know she's important, and you can't take her," Joaquin challenged. "Just like I know if you take one more step in her direction, a bullet's coming. I'll empty the entire clip if I have to."

Kane studied Joaquin with a dismissive tilt of his head, a sneer playing at his lips. To anyone who glanced quickly, Joaquin might have seemed inexperienced, but his eyes burned with a fierce determination that belied his appearance.

"You're willing to stake your life on the words of Sam Wilson?" Kane scoffed, motioning around tbe quickly emptying time square. "A man who isn't even here to help you protect her?"

“For her,” Joaquin said, his voice cold and unwavering, “I’ll stake my life, and lay you down, for good.”

The man’s grin widened, and he whistled sharply. The sound sliced through the tension like a sinister signal, prompting more figures to emerge from the shadows. Their faces were obscured, wearing masks similar to Kane's, but their intentions were clear.

Joaquin stepped back once, his movements precise, and you followed, your hand pressing firmly against his back. He shifted a second time, and then a third. Until cold stone met your shoulders. He had you positioned against the wall, giving him a clear vantage point to monitor every angle and anticipate any surprise.

"Stay behind me, no matter what happens," Joaquin ordered, his voice low. "Understand?"

He didn't leave room for a response. For once, in the time you've been together, there was not a protest.

Joaquin’s grip on his gun tightened, his entire stance radiating unyielding resolve. The square seemed to constrict around you, but amid the chaos, you felt a strange calm, knowing Joaquin was resolute in his defense.

“Last chance,” Kane chuckled, eyes drifting to his soldiers waiting to pounce. "You don't know who you're dealing with, kid."

Joaquin’s finger tightened on the trigger, his eyes locked on the man with piercing intensity. “Neither do you.”

Kane motioned for his men to advance, a cold smile curving his lips. Joaquin’s gaze remained locked on Kane, despite the figures rushing your way, his resolve unshakable.

Kane’s eyes narrowed as he took a deliberate step forward, Joaquin’s gun fired with a sharp, decisive crack.