#i was in a production of this so i noticed a lot of little things

[blank-potato]

From New York To D.C.

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Thunderbolts!Reader

Summary:

“Joaquin Torres,” he says smoothly, offering a handshake. His voice is warm, confident, and you can't lie, it makes you feel a little tingly. The Falcon. You weren’t living under a rock; you knew exactly who he was. You’d seen him on TV, soaring through the sky beside Captain America, pulling off impossible saves like it was just another Tuesday. What you weren’t expecting was to see him up close. And of course, he was even hotter in person. And now you were supposed to keep your cool? Life’s unfair.  You hesitate only a moment before taking his hand. “I know,” you say, your voice a touch too honest. That earns you a small laugh, which you mentally pat yourself on the back for.  “Fan?” he asks, eyebrow lifting in amusement. You try to play it cool, despite the fact that your brain is short-circuiting. “Something like that.” Or You're both on different Avengers teams, but when you hit it off at a gala, you start sneaking around.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, making out, implied smut but no smut, late night phone calls, teasing, mutual pining, sneaking around, getting together, love confessions, getting caught, rooftop date, texts from the new avengers group chat, reader breaking and entering for Joaquin...twice

WC: 6.7k

A/N: Might be obsessed with Joaquin Torres right now. The crush I have on Danny Ramirez is actually driving me to madness. Enjoy the product of said madness.

***

Galas were the worst. Stiff suits, fake smiles, and enough small talk to make your brain melt. But the whole team had to show up to these things. Public events, fundraisers, whatever would help. The New Avengers’ reputation was still… rocky, and good PR was something your squad desperately needed.

You’re at a charity gala in D.C., standing near the hors d'oeuvres table, staring down a plate of shrimp like they’ve personally betrayed you. Everyone had disappeared off somewhere, so you were left on your own with nothing but time.

You’re so lost in your own misery that you don’t even notice someone reaching past you to grab one. Your eyes follow the hand up the arm, to the shoulder, and finally to a face. A very handsome face. He doesn’t look at you at first, too focused on choosing between the shrimp and some kind of crostini. 

But then his gaze flicks to you, and stays. You’re so happy it does, even if you’re halfway to melting by the time he’s opening his mouth.  

“Joaquin Torres,” he says smoothly, offering a handshake. His voice is warm, confident, and you can't lie, it makes you feel a little tingly.

The Falcon. You weren’t living under a rock; you knew exactly who he was. You’d seen him on TV, soaring through the sky beside Captain America, pulling off impossible saves like it was just another Tuesday.

What you weren’t expecting was to see him up close. And of course, he was even hotter in person. And now you were supposed to keep your cool? Life’s unfair. 

You hesitate only a moment before taking his hand.

“I know,” you say, your voice a touch too honest. That earns you a small laugh, which you mentally pat yourself on the back for. 

“Fan?” he asks, eyebrow lifting in amusement.

You try to play it cool, despite the fact that your brain is short-circuiting. “Something like that.”

You collect yourself, ready to give an introduction.  “I’m—”

“I know who you are too,” he interrupts, a glint of something teasing in his eyes.

You smirk. “Keeping tabs on the competition?”

“Competition? Not quite.”

“Oh really?” You step in just a little closer, just enough to make it obvious. Your eyes meet his, and there’s a flicker of tension. But you invite it, a little tension never hurt anyone.

He grins, cocky and unbothered. “Yeah… because we’re the actual Avengers.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing playfully. “I don’t know about that, Torres.”

He laughs, and you feel it in your chest, a warm ripple that makes this whole awful gala suddenly seem a lot more tolerable.

“I know we’re on opposite sides of this lawsuit,” he says, a playful lilt in his voice, “but… do you want to dance?”

He nods toward the dance floor, offering you his hand. You know you probably shouldn’t take it; there are rules, professional boundaries, and logic, but there’s no saying no to those pretty brown eyes of his.

“Just don’t drop me on my ass,” you mutter, slipping your hand into his.

His hand is bigger than yours, warm and steady. It makes you feel… safe. Which is ridiculous and borderline embarrassing considering you’ve known him for all of five seconds. But that’s just the Joaquin Torres effect.

As the music wraps around you and your bodies move together, close enough to blur lines, you tilt your head up and smile. “You’re not a bad dancer.”

He chuckles, effortlessly keeping in rhythm. “I’ve got some moves.”

You raise a brow. “Just on the dance floor?”

He looks at you like he already knows you’re trouble, and before long, the smirk he tried to hold back finally wins.

“In some other places too.”

He spins you with ease, pulling you back into him in one smooth, practised motion. He was too good. 

“You might’ve just made my night, Torres.”

He glances at you, arching a brow. “Is that right?”

You lean in, voice soft against his ear, “Between the mindless small talk and repetitive conversations, it’s nice to talk to someone that actually interests me.”

His breath catches, heart hammering, but he doesn’t back away. A burst of confidence then makes you guide his hand lower, to the small of your back, and feel his fingers press in a little more firmly, holding you there.

“You interest me too,” he says, casually.

You have no idea if you’re doing a good job of being super hot and super mysterious or if you’re playing right into his hands but either way you interest him. 

That’s a good thing, right?

When the song ends, the room's energy shifts, but neither of you moves right away. Joaquin's thinking, you don't know what about, but you swear in that moment you’d never wanted to know anything so bad. 

“Want to go to the balcony?” he asks.

You blink, surprised but smiling. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” he teases, tugging you gently toward the nearest door. You walk with him, weaving through the crowd, but your gaze stays locked on his. He moves smoothly, like he knows just where to step. Meanwhile, you’re trying your best not to trip over your feet; you feel completely lost in him. 

Is this what love at first sight is? Turning into a mindless idiot?

You get out to the balcony being able to see all the night lights flickering in the distance, the stars out in full force tonight.

Letting out a sigh of contentment, you notice Joaquin staring at you and only you, the view from the balcony couldn’t concern him less. You were the main attraction. 

“You’re looking at me a certain type of way…,” you murmur.

“Can you blame me?” he says softly, opening the door and guiding you outside, into the night.

He leans casually against the railing, eyes still locked on you like he couldn’t dream of looking anywhere else.

“I was just thinking,” Joaquin says, voice low and sincere, “I’ve seen some pretty incredible views flying over the Grand Canyon, New York at sunset…”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “And?”

He tilts his head, grin softening into something more earnest. “None of them made my heart race the way you do.”

You should’ve known something like that was coming. But still you bite your lip, fighting the smile tugging at your cheeks. “God, you’re smooth.”

“Only when I mean it, and I mean every word.”

“You’re going to make me do something I regret,” you admit. 

It wasn’t a lie. If he kept looking at you with those pretty eyes and talking to you with that voice of his, you’d pounce on him right here, right now. Important senators, dignitaries and politicians be damned. 

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might too,” Joaquin says. You swear he can read your mind, or maybe you were drooling right in front of him and just didn’t realise.

“So, you wanna go somewhere more private?” he suggests, and you’re a little surprised he beat you to it. 

Somehow, those words are enough to make something inside you give way. A dam breaking. A match struck.

As soon as he said that, you briskly made your way to the nearest empty hallway and started trying to devour each other. 

You press him back against the wall, the distant hum of gala music barely registering anymore. His breath catches, hands hovering at your waist like he’s not sure if this is real, or if he should hold back.

“You wanna— are we doing this?” he asks, still not quite believing that he’s gotten himself into this situation. 

“Yeah, we’re doing this.”

You loosen his tie a little, not even trying to tease him and pull him for a sloppy kiss.  You needed him now, fuck being mysterious. You find yourself smiling against his lips when you feel him grip the fabric of your clothes to press your body against his. The kiss grows messier, hotter, as if the two of you are trying to make up for every second you spent not trying to eat each other's faces. 

Your breath is shaky when you finally look up at him, his eyes are blown wide, hair messier, lips parted so beautifully. He might just be the death of you. You might just drop dead right now, in the middle of this gala, and your biggest regret would be that you never got to have sex with him. 

“You…,” he breathes out, forehead pressed to yours. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

What did he think he did to you?

You tilt your head slightly, smirking. This was doing wonders for your ego. All this from him, and after one dance, was insane, but the chemistry was undeniable.

“I could say the same about you,” you murmur, your fingers brushing along his jaw. “One dance and you’ve got me sneaking around like a teenager.”

You slip your hands beneath the hem of his shirt, palms against warm skin. “I want you to show me just how much you want me.”

Joaquin crashes his lips back onto yours, determined to make sure you never forget how good he could make you feel. 

You pull back to breathe again, now wishing you didn’t have to put space between you. Oxygen was secondary; Joaquin was the only thing you needed right now.

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes raking over him, “you’re perfect.”

Your fingers trace along his jawline, and before you know it, you’re both pressed close, the hallway closing in around you, knowing full well anyone could walk by at any second.

You nearly lose your balance when he starts kissing your neck. It’s feather-soft, barely there but devastating all the same, making you feel like you’re floating. The heat of his lips on your skin, his cologne, warm and comforting, drifting in and making you weak. 

“Damn,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and rough.

You feel a buzz against your thigh and pull back confused. 

“You’re uh… vibrating.”

“Oh, it’s my phone,” Joaquin says, now a little sheepish as if he wasn’t just turning your brain to soup. He sighs and fishes it out of his pocket, his eyes widening when he sees who’s calling, “It’s Sam, I kinda disappeared on him, I should…”

“Oh yeah, of course,” you reply, still slightly out of breath. Before you completely detangle from each other. As you walk away, you can’t find it in yourself to stop smiling, heart still racing from the encounter. You wish you’d gotten his number, but you had your ways. You weren’t exactly the giving-up type.

“See you soon, Falcon,” you mutter to yourself as you watch him stumble out of the hallway, trying to fix his hair and tie. And you’re totally not looking at his butt… it’s a cute butt, though.

***

Morning hit Joaquin like a ton of bricks. He’s normally on his best behaviour, but the unexpected happened. So maybe you actually hit him with a ton of bricks.  There was something about you he couldn’t shake, and it wasn’t just the way you pushed him up against a wall and kissed him like your life depended on it.

There’s a distinct, irritating buzzing coming from his nightstand. It was too early to be receiving calls in his world.

He groans, slapping at the desk trying to pick it up when his phone vibrates again.

“Hello,” he grunts as he finally answers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, still sprawled out on his stomach.

“Torres?” The voice on the other end is familiar to him, but he can’t quite place it. Whoever it is, it made his heart skip a beat, that’s for sure. It was sweet and gentle, with a hint of something hopeful that caught him off guard.

He sits up, now a tiny bit more awake, “Who is this?”

“The girl you were dancing with last night…the one you made out with,” you tease.

He chuckles, amused even though he sounds half-asleep. “Ah, the fake Avenger.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“How did you get my number?” he asks, a note of curiosity slipping in. He’s 99% sure he didn’t give you his number, only because he was kicking himself on the way home for not doing so.

There’s a brief pause, then a soft shuffling sound, “Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m still here…” you say, voice a little shaky.

On the other side of the line, you’re hesitating, knowing you might’ve crossed a line. Maybe even been a little sneaky and broken a few laws. But when a guy like him sweeps you off your feet, you do what you have to do. “I have my ways.”

He laughs again, warm and genuine, and you can’t help but feel relieved. At least you’re not officially a stalker in his eyes.

“So, to what do I owe the honour?" he asks, voice still thick with sleep but curious.

“I’m in D.C. for another day and a bit, so… I was wondering if you could show me around the city.”

“You want me to take you out?” Joaquin asks, a playful glint in his eyes. A date? With you? He’s definitely completely awake now.

“If you want to continue what happened last night, before we were so rudely interrupted… maybe have a coffee or two, eat a whole bakery.”

He chuckles, and you swear you’ve never heard anything so sweet. Turns out the Joaquin Torres effect works over the phone too. 

“We’ll have to be careful, with the press and all that.”

“I’m pretty good at disguises…” 

Joaquin grins, probably a little too wide, but he can’t help it. There’s just something about you. 

***

You’re waiting in the park, hat pulled low over your eyes, trying to look casual despite the nerves buzzing in your stomach. Considering you’d tried to climb him literally just last night, you thought you’d be a little less jittery by now. Still…

There’s the sound of footsteps behind you, then a hand suddenly lands on your shoulder. Before you can even think, you spin around and, without warning, flip whoever it is onto the ground.

Groans escape the guy beneath you, and your heart skips a beat when you hear a familiar voice.

“Torres?” you ask, eyes wide as you stare down at the very cute superhero sprawled on the grass.

He laughs weakly, rubbing his back. “Is this how you say hello? Judo moves?”

You cover your mouth in shock. Talk about making a bad impression. He stands up, dusting himself off casually. 

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt out, still frozen in your position.

“It’s alright, I can take a hit, or well, a flip.”

He chuckles, smiling at you, and you feel yourself relax. You look him over, he’s also dressed down, trying to look as inconspicuous as you are. But there’s no disguising that handsome face of his. If you weren’t careful with these kinds of thoughts, you’d be climbing him again in no time.

“You miss me? Just kidding, I know you missed me.”

“You wish,” you bite back, as if you weren’t the one that invited him here.

“You’re right, I do wish you missed me. It’s not every day that I meet someone like you.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s charming. You’ll give him that.

“So, where to first?”

Joaquin grins, “Anywhere you want, but after I can take you on a fly around the city if you want to.”

“Is that your secret weapon, Falcon? I bet that has all the girls swooning.”

“You have no idea,” he jokes, flashing that easy smile.

The date that wasn’t officially a date went surprisingly well. You both tried not to draw attention as he bought you gelato, then spent a solid hour trying (and mostly failing) to beat the top score on the DDR machine, the two of you laughing breathlessly as Joaquin missed another arrow and nearly tripped. Then came the dramatic groans and determined squints as Joaquin tried to win you a toy from the claw machine, insisting, “One more try. I’ve got the angle this time.” 

Sitting on the roof of his apartment building afterwards, you lean against each other as you hold onto the duck plushie he eventually won you. You’re close, and it feels comfortable, like you’ve known him much longer than just an evening and a day. 

“Will I see you again?” you ask softly. You hope you don’t sound desperate, but you can’t remember the last time it felt so easy to be with someone like this.

“If you want to.”

He looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips, but says nothing.

“Plus, you have my number,” you remind him with a teasing grin, “You know, the one you hacked to get because you like me so much—”

You cut him off with a playful nudge, “You’re so annoying.”

***

It’s been over a month, and things have been going well between the two of you. Video calls were all that kept you going, sharing movies, teasing each other when one started to nod off on screen. You weren’t expecting to fall for him like this, but here you were, completely hooked.

You call him late at night, after a long day filled with missions, training sessions and meetings. All you need is your daily dose of Joaquin Torres.

The call rings through, and when he finally answers on video, you quickly adjust your hair and straighten your shirt, making sure you look okay before he comes into view. His hair’s a tousled mess of curls, eyes a little tired from working too hard, but still, he smiles at you like you’re giving him energy. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Avenger,” he grins. “Is that Quino?” he asks, nodding toward the duck plushie you’re clutching under your arm.

“Yeah, he misses you almost as much as I do,” you say, waving it at him with a smile, making him chuckle.

All you wish is that he were right there beside you, so you could curl up on his chest and just breathe him in.

“I saw you on TV…” he says, and you’re a little surprised. 

“You did?” You perk up, eyes brightening.

He nods, voice sincere. “You looked really heroic…”

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice suddenly smaller, softer. The praise meant a lot to you, knowing that what you were doing was actually worthwhile, that you were making a difference and that he noticed that. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you grin, tucking your chin into your pillow. “You have the biggest heart. Brave, superhero, and boy—” You pause, catching yourself before you expose yourself. He wasn’t your boyfriend, was he? “...um claw machine extraordinaire.”

“Is that so?” he laughs. Looks like you got away with it. 

“Who else would suffer through that experimental synth-folk concert I dragged you to?”

“It was… experimental and definitely... an experience.”

“Still trying to save my feelings.”

You laugh, warmth blooming in your chest as he mirrors your smile.

“What are we watching tonight?” he asks, adjusting his camera and settling back against his headboard.

You both scroll through options and finally settle on a movie. As the movie plays, you listen to his running commentary, the comfort of his voice softening the distance between you. Even through a screen, it feels like he’s right by you.

At the halfway point, you feel your eyes starting to get heavy. “You falling asleep on me?” Joaquin asks, his voice soft and teasing. This happens more often than you’d like to admit. Something about Joaquin made it impossible for you to have a sleepless night. 

“No…,” you say, but you’re obviously nodding off.

“You sure about that?” he chuckles, watching you blink slowly like each one takes an incredible amount of effort. “Because you just answered with your eyes closed.”

“I’m… just resting them,” you mumble, voice slurring slightly as your head lolls to the side.

Joaquin smiles, soft and fond. “Uh huh. Just resting them. Should I keep talking so you can pretend you’re still awake?”

You don’t answer. Or maybe you do, but it’s a sleepy murmur he can’t quite catch. He watches as you fully drift off, your breathing evening out, face relaxed in the glow of the screen.

“Goodnight,” he whispers. 

And even though you can’t hear him, you smile in your sleep anyway.

***

You can't eat, you can't sleep, what else could it be?

You’re in love.

Which is why you’re currently half-delirious, jet-lagged, and sneaking into his apartment like some lovesick burglar. You tiptoe through the place, heart pounding with excitement and nerves, when you see him. He’s standing in the kitchen, shirt slightly wrinkled, hips moving to whatever beat is pumping through his headphones. He hums along, completely lost in it as he washes the dishes. 

You smile, watching him for a second too long before deciding to sneak up behind him.

Just as you're about to tap his shoulder—

In one swift, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and flips you over his shoulder. You land on the floor with a thud, him pinning you down before you can even blink.

So this is how he felt that day.

“Joaquin, it’s me!” you gasp, wide-eyed.

“Oh shit,” he mutters, instantly pulling back when he sees your face. He rips his headphones off as muffled music spills into the room.

“Surprise?” you groan, winded but trying to smile. 

“Why on earth did you break into my apartment?” he says, half-scolding, half-amused. He helps you to a sitting position, and you groan again, rubbing your back soothingly. 

“I wanted to surprise you.”

He shakes his head, that crooked grin tugging at his lips. “You’re insane.”

“And yet, here I am.”

He helps you up, laughing under his breath. “You could’ve just knocked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You hold your arms up, and he doesn’t miss a beat, hosting you into his arms and taking you to his bedroom. 

He places you on the bed, and you snuggle against the sheets, surrounded by Joaquin's scent, something you has been missing a little too much.

"Straight to bed? How did you know I didn't want to go to the living room, hm?" You say as you take off your jacket.

Joaquin's about to give you a snarky answer when he sees it.

The shirt you had on was unmistakable, bright red with a stylised graphic of his wings spread, and “Team Falcon” printed boldly across the chest.

"Are you serious?"

He can't contain the smile that works its way into his face.

“I wanted to show my support,” you say innocently, flopping back on the bed with a grin. “How do I look?”

He stares at you, trying not to smile too widely, eyes dragging over the sight of you.

“Very sexy.”

He’s leaning down, about to kiss the ever-living hell out of you, when you suddenly spot in the corner of the room a small corkboard filled with photos, and one catches your eye. You walk over, squinting a little. “Is that you in high school?”

Joaquin looks up from where he is. “Oh no,” he groans, “I forgot those were still up.”

You practically teleport over there and look at his pictures with glee.

“Your hair was so long,” you say, smiling as you take in the photo of a much younger, slightly awkward but still undeniably cute version of him. “I love it!”

He groans louder, burying his face in his hands. “Please don’t say that.”

You move on to another photo, one of him in the Air Force, his smile wide beneath a pair of aviators, arm slung around a fellow pilot, wind whipping through his hair.

“Oh…” you breathe, fingers pausing on the screen. “Now this is a whole different kind of adorable.”

Joaquin leans over to look, a bit embarrassed. “That was before I knew what I was getting into. I thought flying meant clear skies and cool jackets.”

You glance at him, grinning. “And now look at you, still flying, just more likely to encounter an alien or Hulk or something.”

You study the picture for a second longer, then softly say, “You look proud. Like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”

He quiets, voice softer now. “That day was… big for me. First solo flight. My abuela cried when I sent her the photo.”

You turn to him, warmth blooming in your chest. “She should be proud. I know I am.”

He blinks at you, a little stunned, he wasn’t expecting to get like this with you so soon. “You’re gonna make me emotional over an old picture.”

“Just trying to balance out all the teasing,” you wink. “Can’t have you thinking I’m only here to have sex with you.”

“You’re here to have sex with me?” he says, his voice dipping when his arms wrap around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. He had you, and you didn’t mind one bit.

“Of course, that’s all you heard,” you mutter, putting the picture down as he grins smugly against your neck.

“You said it,” he murmurs, voice low, smug. “Not my fault, I have a gift for selective hearing.”

You huff out a laugh, twisting in his arms to face him. “You are impossible.”

“Oh?” he arches a brow, clearly enjoying the challenge. “You wanna say that again?”

Without warning, you shove him back toward the bed. He stumbles with a surprised laugh and lets himself fall dramatically onto the mattress. “Attacking me now?”

“I prefer the term ‘light sparring,’” you say, crawling onto the bed after him. “What? Afraid to lose, Falcon?”

He tries to roll away, but you straddle his waist before he can escape. “Okay, wow, this took a turn,” he grins, hands hovering in mock surrender.

You lean down, playful but close enough to feel his breath. “Looks like I win.”

"Just wait until I start playing dirty."

He starts tickling you which sends you into a laughing fit, nearly falling onto him. He uses the moment to flip you over, pinning you to the bed with a triumphant grin. “Don’t start a fight you can’t win.”

You pant, giggling, squirming under him. “Not fair. You used the element of surprise.”

“Also known as tactics.” He dips down to kiss you, it’s soft and warm. The kind of kiss you wanna get every day. When he pulls back, his voice is soft. “You’re not just here to sleep with me, huh?”

You look up at him, brushing a thumb across his cheek with a hand you pull free. “No, Joaquin. I’m here because I like you. A lot.”

“Good. Because I like you too. A lot.”

You’re not sure if either of you had admitted it before, but it felt too good to ignore. 

You tug him down beside you, both of you still catching your breath, tangled up on the bed. The teasing fades into quiet comfort, laughter still lingering in the air.

Brushing your stray eyelash off your cheek, he pauses, eyes locked on yours like you’re the only person in the world. Then he kisses you, it’s deep and slow yet intense. His hands cup your face like you’re something important, something precious, and his mouth moves over yours like he’s trying to devour you, trying to pull you into him until you can’t think of being anywhere else. 

When he finally pulls back for air, his gaze drops to the Falcon shirt you’re wearing. He smirks, voice low and teasing. “As much as I love the merch…”

He trails off, fingers ghosting over the hem, and you get the hint. You raise your arms, heart pounding, letting him take it off.

One after another, articles of clothing form a pile on the floor until you’re both naked, your bodies moulding together perfectly against one another. And you must admit you’ve been dreaming about this moment since the first time you kissed. The curve of his shoulders, the tension in his strong biceps as he held himself over you, he was perfection, sculpted even.

His warm lips make their way down your body, slow and deliberate, like he’s savouring every inch of you. Each kiss sends a shiver through you. You’re not sure how you’re going to survive the night. 

“What are you gonna do with me, Joaquin?” you whisper, breath hitching.

He looks up at you, a smile on his lips, eyes dark with emotion. “Whatever you want me to.”

***

“Something’s going on,” Alexei says, “She’s been flying around like a butterfly, no?”

For the past few weeks, you were practically floating around the tower with a grin that wouldn’t quit and a twinkle in your eye. Baking cookies at odd hours, humming to yourself, and sighing contentedly at your phone every time you get a text from someone. Like nothing could get you down, and it’s been weird. 

“We should leave her to it,” Bob says with a smirk, clearly enjoying the cookies a little too much.

You're all busy prepping for a mission. Maps open, gear scattered, energy high, when Yelena approaches with a question, brows knit in mild frustration.

“Don’t worry, I got the schematics on my phone,” you say, handing it to her without looking up.

“It timed out,” she mutters, before turning it back on. But both Yelena and Ava suddenly go quiet.

You’re barely paying attention to the murmurs around the room, eyes fixed on your laptop, until you hear something that makes you want to retreat into yourself like a turtle into its shell.

“Why is Falcon your lockscreen?” Ava teases, and you stop typing instantly. Your head turns, a nervous smile plastered on your face. 

“I—”

You glance around the room. Everyone is looking at you now.

You just had to have him as your lockscreen. 

“I admire his heroics. Is that a crime?” you say, trying to keep your tone light.

“So much so that he’s your lockscreen?” Yelena adds, “This picture isn’t even of him in his suit, he's holding a puppy...”

John looks at the picture and nods in agreement, "Yeah, this seems way more intimate."

You can feel the questions rising in the air, and you’re sure you don’t have a good answer to any of them. 

“I’m a fan, okay? But, I don’t have to explain myself to any of you.”

They exchange knowing looks but drop it, more amused than judgmental. You stare down at your laptop, pretending to be focused again, but your heart’s still racing.

***

You’re waiting on top of Avengers Tower, the wind tugging at your clothes as you hug your arms around yourself. The city glitters below, but your eyes are fixed on the sky. After being teased relentlessly by practically the whole team interchangeably for the past few days, you needed your Joaquin time.

Then you hear it, the familiar sound of metal wings slicing through the air, followed by the soft thud of boots hitting the rooftop. You turn just in time to see him land, wings retracting, that helmet still on and that perfect smile already tugging at his lips.

Without thinking, you rush forward and jump into his arms, laughing as he swings you around. 

“How was the flight?” you ask, breathless, as he laughs and pulls off his helmet.

“Not too bad,” he grins, setting it aside. 

“I love this,” Joaquin says, looking over the modest feast you’ve put together with a genuine smile.

Setting up the movie, you both settle in, cuddling up next to each other. Already feeling more connected than when you’re forced to video call, this was different. Nothing could compare to feeling the warmth of his body vibrating against your side when he talks and laughs.

The movie hits a lull in the action, and you both fall into a comfortable silence.

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to go public?” you ask softly, the city’s quiet hum blending with the flickering screen.

“Absolutely. This is only temporary,” Joaquin replies, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing your cheek like a promise.

You smile, leaning into his touch. “So in other words, you wanna show me off?”

He grins, eyes sparkling. “You bet. Can’t wait for everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Your heart skips a beat, as it often does when you’re with him. “We’ve been handling the distance well so far…”

“Yeah,” he nods, eyes locked on yours. “But I’m ready for the part where I don’t have to secretly fly across states just to kiss you goodnight.”

A slow smile spreads across your face, and you reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Me too, Joaquin. Me too.”

***

The day was like most others, busy, a blur of tasks and distractions, but you froze when you saw it. On your phone, a breaking news report flashed: Joaquin, hurtling toward the ground, one wing damaged and useless. The sickening thud as he hit the earth echoed in your mind like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from.

At that moment, the world stopped spinning. Time slowed to a crawl.

There was no hesitation. You were up, grabbing your things, and moments later, you were on a Quinjet bound for D.C. You knew he was being treated at the Avengers Compound, but you didn’t care; if it meant breaking in, you would.

Fear clutched at your chest, terror gnawing at your bones. The thought that your life could never be the same without him was unbearable. No more late-night calls, no more spontaneous flights through the sky, no more drifting off to sleep to the sound of his voice. It would all be over.

And you weren’t ready to let that happen.

***

The fall was brutal, but it could have been far worse. He had experienced worse, but right now, he was still in a world of pain. The only thing he could think of as he was falling was all the regrets, all the things he’d left undone, left unsaid.

He never got to tell you he…

His eyes flutter open when he hears the unmistakable sound of someone breaking in through the window.

There’s a clumsy rustle as the intruder fumbles with the curtains.

“Fucking… stupid curtains…”

Another muffled thud echoes in the quiet room as the figure trips.

He knew that voice anywhere. He whispers your name, and you look up from the floor. You look like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. But instead of fear, your expression melts into a complex mix of emotions. You’re happy to see him alive, terrified, and overwhelmed all at once.

You rush to his side, barely able to hold yourself together, 

He whispers your name again, soft and hoarse, and somehow it eases a fraction of the pain twisting inside you. But he’s still injured, bandaged, bruised, fragile in ways you’ve never seen.

“Joaquin…” you breathe, voice cracking as you lean in and hug him gently, careful not to press on any wounds.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in like he needs you to survive. Like you’re the anchor that brought him back.

“You scared the crap out of me,” you whisper against his skin, your voice trembling.

His arms wrap around you weakly, but surely. “I’m here,” he murmurs, like a promise he plans to keep. “Not dead.”

Suddenly, the chaos of your joint situation comes to mind…

“The media, our teams—” he begins, voice strained.

“None of that matters!” you shout, the words ripping from your throat. “Not when you’re hurt.”

Your eyes rake over his injured form, bandages stark against his skin, a gash on his side still seeping faintly beneath the gauze.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he offers, trying to sound reassuring.

You step closer, giving him a sharp, disbelieving look. “Are you kidding me?”

He gives a small, sheepish laugh, but it quickly turns into a wince as the movement pulls at his side. “I mean it. I’ve literally shot out of the sky before. This is nothing, I’m actually kind of an expert now.”

You know he’s joking around for your benefit, but you still can’t help but worry. “Don’t downplay it. You almost died.”

His grip tightens slightly around yours. “Yeah, but I didn’t. And you’re here.”

The exhaustion was obvious; he needed you here more than he knew how to express but struggled to find the words.

“Were you stealthy getting in here?” he asks, half amused, half amazed, unable to figure out how you managed it. You had come through the window decked out in tactical gear, which was mildly concerning, so he bets it’s an interesting story.

“Well?” he teases.

You bite your lip, looking just a little guilty. “I scaled the building, and at least ten people saw me come in here. I knocked out a few security guards, and the Quinjet may or may not be parked like... right outside the front door?”

Your list of crimes and bold moves was impressive, and Joaquin couldn’t be more proud. The fact that you did all that for him was overwhelming.

“You didn’t.”

You shrug. “I don’t care. Nothing was going to keep me from you. I…”

“I love you,” Joaquin says, taking the words right out of your mouth. It’s raw and comes straight from the heart. He thinks he’s known this for a while, but never said it aloud.

“I love you too,” you reply, it leaves your lips so easily you wonder why it took you so long to say it. 

For a moment, the chaos of the world fades. It’s just the two of you, in the hush of a hospital room, holding on like it's all that matters. Then you notice your phone flash, you’d put it on silent to do your little sneaky break-in, and you’ve never been more glad you did. 

You glance at the screen to see a flurry of missed calls and texts from the Avengers group chat.

Bucky: Hey. 12:01 PM Bucky: Did you steal the Quinjet? 12:01 PM Bucky: Come back right now, and we might not kill you. 12:03 PM Yelena: You flew to D.C.?!?! 12:07 PM

You scroll down a little further, not liking the nervous feeling that's bubbling in your stomach.

Bucky: HEY.  12:20 PM Bucky: TEXT BACK. 12:20 PM Bucky: ANSWER YOUR PHONE. 12:27 PM

Well, something judging by the texts you can tell there's been an escalation of sorts. The word, 'HEY,' has never been so intimidating and you've now discovered that you don't like it when Bucky types in capital letters.

Ava: 🙃 12:45 PM John: 🙃 12:50 PM

You have no idea what this means.

Bucky: ON OUR WAY. 1:00 PM

You're fucked.

You rest your head on his chest, letting out a long, frustrated groan.

“What’s wrong?” Joaquin asks, voice low and laced with concern.

“There’s a tracker on the jet I stole, and they're coming here,” you mumble into the sheets, muffled by the fabric and your own regret. You sigh, rolling onto your back with a dramatic flop. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Too focused on me?” Joaquin chuckles, warm and amused, and runs his fingers gently through your hair. The gesture is soothing, comforting in a way that only he can manage.

“Always.” You look up at him, with a little pout, “They’re gonna kill me.”

“Nah,” he smirks, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. “They’ll just make you do recon missions in Siberia for a month.”

You groan again, burying your face in his side.

“You’re worth it, though,” you mumble, voice soft but certain. “I’d steal ten more Quinjets, if it meant I could be with you.”

Of course, you would. 

Then he smiles, that warm, crooked grin you’ve come to crave, and he leans in to kiss you.

It’s slow, reverent, like all of your kisses. When you never know when you’re going to see one another, it makes it all the more important to cherish each one. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm, his hand slipping into your hair as your lips move together. It’s everything, relief, longing, love. 

You’re careful not to press on his side, mindful of the bandages, but even that doesn’t stop your body from curling instinctively closer. You’re so absorbed in each other that you almost don’t hear the very distinct sound of someone clearing their throat.

You break apart and turn around slowly, only to find Sam standing in the doorway. Getting caught making out with Falcon by Captain America just secured a place on your top ten most embarrassing moments ever, just behind running into a stop sign in front of your whole school. 

Sam doesn’t look mad, but he does look monumentally confused. He’d just walked past the Quinjet parked out front, noticed guards slumped over unconscious, and now finds you two tangled up inside.

He raises an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Is someone going to explain this to me?”

“...Meet my girlfriend?” Joaquin squeaks.

Masterlist || Marvel Masterlist

[headcanon-everything]

I feel like Lux would be the kind of person to "adopt" a super anxious introvert. Don't know how to describe what I'm thinking of other than like the average sorority girl or something looking at a trembling chihuahua of a person and going "New bestie! I'm going to dress you up and bring you places!" And idk I think that's kinda cute

oh gosh they would aka how I got any friends in highschool as an extremely shy introvert when I was younger

can be read as platonic or romantic!

Lux Headcanons

- reader is very shy and anxious -

in my mind this is with a fellow object/dateable so I'll go off of it like that

to start: they didn't even really notice you at first, too busy with their own livestreams and things

it wasn't until you were talking with Phonecia that they even noticed you at all, quietly speaking to her and discussing a new show you were watching

Lux was already on their way over to talk with her - but got entirely distracted on their original purpose, immediately curious and noting your cute face and potential for a major glow up

came over, tutting and going "oh no no this won't do" while lightly pulling at your sleeves here and there that you were previously playing with the hem of "we'll have to get you onto my 17-step makeover plan, stat. then you'll be the second brightest thing in the house!"

Phonecia tried to intervene before Lux grabbed you by the arm and started briskly walking away

you merely waved her off, hoping to gently appease the person who is only now introducing themselves

Lux had heard whispers of you around the house from others, and was putting the pieces together as they were explaining their makeover process

Brought you straight to Barry and Amir, demanding a makeover and self-care day for you both

you couldn't explain why Lux had singled you out to work with, you can only assume it's because they didn't have a pre-established history with you

that and wanting to do a before and after video of legends, according to them

you can't lie though, you did feel a lot better and very attractive once they were done with their makeover

Amir spent a lot of time hyping you up, and Barry was so excited to find colours and styles that you enjoyed while apologizing for Lux being a bit brash

the theme song of all this is popular from wicked

after that, Lux began to keep popping up, insisting you try products that don't work with their skin tone or they have "too good of pores to use"

it was some backhanded compliments but they still said you looked great once they got you camera-ready

started showing up more and more, getting ready while in your presence (insisting it's because you're the only one quiet enough to not bother them but can still use you as a second set of eyes on the look)

then began dragging you around when they decided to grace the house with their presence

Lux is going to the breaker box? so are you! time to get ready!

Lux is gonna do a charity livestream for Mateo's inanimals? so are you!

always makes sure to still acknowledge you when you're out, to a lot of people's surprise

sometimes it manifests as ordering for you without your input, but they insist it's good for you in one way or another

only Lux is allowed to gently bully you, any one else even tried and they are instantly in that person's face and telling them to back off

Curt and Rod were the first victim of this, as they went a little too far with their jokes

Lux was instant to clap back with a "They're worth keeping around, unlike SOME other objects around here"

takes a bit of work to get in a word edge-wise, but when you do Lux listens attentively

if you mention someone's been picking on you? instant call out post and Lux sends their rabid fan base after them to cyber bully them

speaking of - because of your occasional appearances, you've become a fan favourite of the chat

[drewssgirl]

⋆˚࿔ THE FIRST TIME

— pairing: fwb!rafe x fwb!reader

— warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, explicit language, protected sex, friends with benefits, p in v, teasing, praise, dom rafe (like sorta?)

— word count: 2.9k +

— A/N: this is my first time writing smut. like ever. don't mind this if it sucks.

the laptop was propped up on your bed, the duvet you and rafe were under crumpled beneath the large display of snacks laid out. it had been 2 months since rafe had started that job up at gq. a lot happened in those two months. you two grew extremely close. calling each other every night, sharing dumb memes, complaining about deadlines, having lunch between meetings like it was no big deal, partying in clubs, only to end up back at your place, tipsy, laughing and talking about nonsense.

you didn’t expect him to be the exact opposite of what lizzie had warned you about. he wasn’t brooding. he was warm, funny, gentle when you needed it, sarcastic when you didn’t. he was slowly becoming the friend you didn't know you needed. filling a hole you didn't know needed to be filled.

you look over at him now, stretched out beside you in sweats and a t-shirt, face lit up by the glow of the screen. you should be focused on the movie. but you’re not, you’re focused on him.

he catches your stare without even trying. “what?” he says, all low and lazy.

you shake your head. “nothing.”

“liar,” he says, shifting to face you. “you do that thing when you lie. your nose twitches.”

“no, it doesn’t.”

“does too.”

"how do you even know that?" you laugh, breaking the intense back-and-forth that was going on between you two. "i pay attention." he shrugs. "well— pay attention to the movie" you look away, hoping the dim lights hide the redness on your cheeks. "this is my favourite part."

his lips curve as he watches you rather than the screen.

on it, the love interest is pacing through a rainy street, yelling some dramatic, heart-spilling monologue. your face softens and without realizing, your lips start to move with the dialogue, matching every word. eyes glued to the screen, heart clearly all in.

rafe notices. of course he does. his gaze lingers. when the kiss happens, you let out the tiniest sigh. the credits roll a few minutes later. the room falls into that quiet, post-movie haze.

rafe breaks it with a smirk. “how many times have you watched this shitty production?”

you turn to him. “enough to memorize it,” you grin, unashamed.

he laughs, tilting his head. “you’re such a romantic.”

“am not.”

“you literally mouthed the entire love confession scene.”

you cross your arms, feigning offense. “so what if i like to love?”

he pauses. you don’t expect the next thing that comes out of your mouth. “i feel a lot, okay? like... i always have. i just don’t show it right away.”

rafe goes quiet. his smile softens. “yeah,” he says, voice low. “i know.”

you blink at him. “do you?”

he nods. “you think i don’t notice stuff about you? you wear your heart like armor. all sparks and sarcasm, but you still hope someone’ll hold it right.”

your breath catches for a second, chest tight in that weird, terrifyingly tender way. “jesus,” you mumble, laughing under your breath. “who let you psychoanalyze me like that?”

he shrugs again. “like i said— i pay attention.”

the silence settles. it's warm, charged and oddly safe.

then, so soft you almost don’t mean to say it “i miss it sometimes.”

rafe glances over. “what?” you inhale. “relationships. loving someone. like really loving them.”

you laugh a little to yourself, shaking your head.

“and?” he asks, nudging your knee with his.

you meet his eyes, smirking now. “but i think i miss the sex more.”

he stares at you for a beat— then breaks into a loud, caught-off-guard laugh, echoing through the room.

you’re laughing too now, heads tipped back, both of you wheezing from how true it is.

“god,” rafe exhales, wiping at his eyes. “you can’t just say that.”

“why not?” you grin. “it’s true. the college sex? kinda miss that.” you both fall back into the pillows, grins still tugging at your faces, the kind of shared laughter that leaves something lingering in the air.

“but i get it. i miss casual sex too sometimes.”

you nod. “right? no guessing games. no guy telling you you're too fucked in the head to be with.”

rafe pauses, head snapping toward you. “hold up. who the hell said that?”

you shrug, trying to play it off. “it’s not a big deal—”

“no, no. it is a big deal,” he says, already looking like he’s mentally rolling his sleeves up. “drop his name. i’ll beat his ass. i don’t even need a reason.”

you laugh, eyes wide. “oh my gosh, calm down.”

“i am calm,” he says, being the complete opposite. “i just think some people need to be reminded what consequences feel like.”

“what are you gonna do, show up to his apartment and full-on brawl him?”

“absolutely. no hesitation. gloves off.”

you grin, biting your lip. “you’re ridiculous.”

he leans back against the headboard, still watching you. “seriously though... you’re not fucked in the head. you’re just... a lot. in the best way. and if someone can’t handle that, it says more about them than it ever will about you.”

you stare at him for a beat. “that was kind of sweet.”

“don’t make it weird.”

“too late,” you smirk.

you both laugh softly, the kind of quiet laughter that fills the space but doesn’t quite erase the weight between you. your eyes flick to the two empty corona bottles on the table, already mocking how fast you’ve gone through them.

“want a refill?” you ask, lifting your bottle like a peace offering.

“hell yeah.” he passes you his bottle, and you push yourself off the bed.

your bare feet hit the floor, the cool hardwood grounding you as you head toward the kitchen. you reach for the fridge, the handle cool under your fingers. you pull the door open, and the light floods the small space. your hand dips inside, fingers closing around two cold bottles of beer. you pull them out, the glass slick and chilled. you close the fridge door with a soft click, twisting the cap off one bottle with a satisfying pop.

just then—

“y/n,” rafe calls from your room, voice way too casual for what he’s about to say, “let's have sex.”

you freeze, bottle halfway to your lips, eyes snapping toward the doorway.

“what?” you laugh.

he’s already jogging up behind you, that stupid golden retriever grin stretched wide, the kind of smile that usually means trouble��or exactly what he just said.

“i’m serious,” he says, leaning on the counter next to you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you set the bottle down on the counter, heart suddenly racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the beer.

“you don’t even like me like that.”

he shrugs, completely unfazed. “yeah, exactly. no feelings, no strings, no one to impress. just... us. no pressure. no complications.”

you stare at him, your fingers curling around the bottle, the cold glass grounding you.

“you’re actually insane,” you say, voice low but amused. “i mean, come on, we’re not in college anymore.”

he grins wider. “maybe. but am i wrong?”

you don’t answer, just look at him—the way he’s standing there, that easy confidence—and yeah… maybe it’s not such a terrible idea after all.

“okay okay, before we do this—do you even find me attractive?”

“do you?”

“i asked first.”

“alright, fine.” he pauses for a second. “i liked your eyes. didn’t think i’d ever seen anyone with such big, beautiful eyes.”

you pause, then confess. “lips. thought you might be a good kisser.”

“i am,” he says, with a sly smirk. then, after a beat, “breasts.”

you raise an eyebrow. “what about them?”

“they intrigued me.”

“really?” you laugh.

“yeah, i think they’re—”

“okay, okay, i’m stopping you right there.” you hold up a hand, smirking. “butt.”

“smile.”

“hands.”

“lips.”

“voice.”

“eyes.” he repeats.

you stop, pointing a finger at him. “you already said that.”

he smirks, eyes locking with yours. “and i meant it.”

you scoff softly, shaking your head. your eyes drift around the kitchen—the worn counter, the dim light casting soft shadows, the faint hum of the city outside. through the window, the nyc night sky stretches vast and dark, dotted with distant glowing lights. your mind races, the buzz of the day and the pull of something more tangled deep inside you.

can you really do this? keep it simple? no strings? no mess? the thought lingers like a weight, a whisper you can’t quite shake.

before you know it, you’re moving, stepping quickly toward your bedroom. rafe’s voice follows, confused. “where are you going?”

you don’t answer, slipping into your room. the soft glow of your desk lamp hits your face as you reach for your ipad. your fingers tap open the bible app, the screen lighting up with familiar verses. you place your hand flat on it, then glance back at rafe, signaling him to do the same.

he steps forward, dropping his hand on top of yours. a slow smirk curls on his lips.

“rafe cameron,” you say, voice steady but soft, “do you swear you don’t want anything more from me than sex?”

his eyes lock with yours, amused but serious. “you swear you don’t?”

you hesitate—just for a heartbeat—then whisper, “i do.”

he holds your gaze, voice low. “i do too.”

the room feels charged, the unspoken truth hanging heavy between you, as if this tiny ritual is the only thing keeping both your hearts from rushing ahead.

you look him dead in the eye, voice steady and clear. “no relationships. no emotions. just sex. okay?”

“whatever happens, we stay friends,” rafe adds quietly, his eyes searching yours for some kind of promise.

you hold his gaze, the weight of his words settling between you like a fragile truce. for a long moment, the world outside your window—the distant hum of cars, the flicker of city lights—fades away until all that exists is the space between you.

then, before either of you can think twice, you drop the ipad gently onto your desk, the soft thud swallowed by the quiet room. your hands move on instinct, sliding up to cup his face. your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, fingertips brushing the slight roughness of his stubble, lingering at the curve of his cheekbone. his skin feels warm beneath your touch.

he slides his fingers under the waistband of your shorts, slowly tugging them down. you shift your hips, letting them slide off easily, the fabric soft and light as it drops to the floor.

his sweats go next—loose and low, he pushes them down with a single tug, leaving just his boxers. you laugh softly, your hands grazing his stomach as you look up at him.

“you got a condom?”

he grins, reaches over, and digs into the pocket of his sweats crumpled on the floor. he pulls out a single condom and holds it up like he’s just won something. “ta-da.”

you raise a brow, confused about why he casually just had them in his pants. “how many girls are you sleeping with, carolina?”

he pauses, pretending to think, counting on his fingers.

you laugh and smack his chest lightly, then push his hands down. “okay, okay,” you giggle, shaking your head.

he leans in closer, mouth brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “only one.”

you barely get a second to react before he kisses you again—deeper this time. his hands slide behind your back, unclasping your bra in one smooth move. it falls away, and he tosses it aside without looking. then he’s kneeling slightly, hands curling around your hips as he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear. he pulls them down slowly, his lips never fully leaving yours. the fabric slips down your legs, leaving you bare beneath him, the tension thick in the air. you fall back onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath you as rafe follows. the city lights spill through your window, soft and golden, casting a faint glow over the both of you. he stands at the edge, fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers. he slides them down slowly, stepping out of them without a word.

you glance down. holy shit.

to say he was big was on understatement. your eyes move back up at him with a teasing grin. “i can work with that.”

he rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that makes you laugh. then he grabs the condom from the pocket of his sweats still on the floor, rips the wrapper open, and starts putting it on.

you sit up slightly, reaching forward to help. your fingers brush over his length and for a second, he stops — like your touch still surprises him even after everything.

he climbs onto the bed, settling between your legs as your back hits the pillows. his hands land on either side of your waist, keeping himself steady as he looks down at you.

he lines up, eyes never leaving yours. his forehead rests gently against yours, warm and grounding.

you nod.

he moves slowly, giving you time.

"shit." he whispers, lowly. your breath catches and your nails grips his arm without thinking. he pauses.

“you okay?” he murmurs.

you look up at him, cheeks flushed. “yeah. okay. go.”

he presses a kiss to your lips, soft but breathless, and then keeps going. his movements are slow at first, careful, like he’s feeling you out. your breathing quickens in sync, and the tension in the air shifts — heavier now. warmer.

you wrap your legs around him slightly, pulling him closer.

his forehead brushes yours again. “you're amazing— shit, y/n...” you inhale, trying to hold back the sounds that want to be let out so bad. your fingers dig into his back, nails pressing into skin.

he notices.

“you don’t have to hold back,” he whispers, his voice thick. “just— fuck, let me hear you.”

you gasp when his hips roll a little deeper, the stretch still sharp, still so much, but somehow not enough.

“shit,” he breathes out, head dropping to your shoulder for a second. “you feel— god, you feel insane.”

your back arches when he shifts again. it’s like your whole body is on edge, chasing something you can’t even name.

his hand finds your waist, thumb stroking slow circles into your skin. “tight as fuck,” he mumbles against your neck, almost like he’s not even talking to you—just reacting. “so warm. perfect.”

your jaw clenches as another sound escapes you. he grins against your collarbone.

“that’s it,” he whispers. “just like that.”

your hands slide up his back, fingertips tracing his spine. “rafe—”

he looks at you, eyes dark and half-lidded. “i’m not gonna last long if you keep saying my name like that.”

you let out this shaky, breathless laugh and he kisses you — deep and slow, tongue brushing yours, all heat and nothing careful.

“you feel like heaven,” he says into your mouth. “fucking heaven.”

your nails dig deeper into his skin now, desperate for something to hold onto as the tension builds, pressure curling tighter in your stomach with every slow thrust.

his forehead rests against yours, breath uneven, skin damp with sweat. “you’re driving me fucking crazy,” he whispers, voice almost gone.

you let out a shaky breath, legs tightening around his waist. “rafe…”

he groans, like hearing his name from you does something to him. “i know, baby. i know.”

your body’s trembling now, every nerve lit up, and you’re so close it hurts. his hand slides down between you, finding your clit, rubbing slow, careful circles like he knows exactly what you need.

“that’s it,” he whispers. “just let go. i’ve got you.”

your mouth falls open. your back arches. everything else fades.

“fuck..” your voice breaks, high and breathless.

he watches you fall apart like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to see. and then it hits him too, hard and fast, a low curse falling from his lips as his rhythm stutters. he buries his face in your neck, jaw clenched, muscles tight.

you both just… breathe. together. heavy and slow, like the air just got knocked out of the room.

his hand’s still on your waist, holding you like you might float away.

you blink up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling.

“well,” you pant, “that was…”

he lifts his head, hair a mess, lips parted, eyes dazed. “yeah,” he murmurs. “that was...that was that”

you snort, chest still rising and falling. “you gonna pull out?”

he freezes for a second, still inside you, blinking like you just woke him up from a dream.

“…right.” his voice cracks a little as he leans back, cheeks flushed. “yeah. shit—yeah.”

you watch as he carefully pulls out, slow and gentle, like he’s worried about hurting you. his eyes flick up to yours once he’s done, like he’s checking if you're okay.

you smirk at how red his ears are. “you’re blushing.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “jesus christ.”

you shift slightly, turning your head on the pillow to face him. “what? i think it’s cute.”

“yeah, well, that makes one of us,” he mutters, eyes fixed on the ceiling like it might save him from the embarrassment.

you nudge him with your elbow. “hey, you just swore on a bible. no emotions, remember? you don’t get to act all shy now.”

he glances at you, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “just wasn’t expecting the commentary, that’s all.”

“sorry,” you laugh, clearly not sorry at all. “force of habit…i guess”

he lets out a breathy chuckle, then turns on his side to face you, arm sliding under his head. “you’re full of surprises.”

you hum, stretching out a little, muscles sore in the best way. “you’re not so bad yourself, carolina.”

his mouth twitches like he wants to say something cocky back, but he doesn’t. he just looks at you for a second, then slowly reaches out, brushing a thumb over your hip, like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

neither of you says anything after that — just lying there, side by side, still catching your breath. the room is warm and quiet, and for a moment, it doesn’t feel like anything’s complicated at all.

just two people, one bed, and whatever the hell this is turning into. "we should get dressed." you mumble, before the way he touches you makes you change your mind.

©DREWSSGIRL 𖦹 est. 2025

[remindingpersephone]

Hi, gang. I’m going to keep this under the cut for those not interested in my rambling.

So it’s been a minute, as the kids say. I had to take a break and deal with some personal stuff, and I just didn't have the time or energy to keep a frequent Tumblr presence at the same time. I am not going into details here because my Tumblr is public, but it is health related. I don't mean to be deliberately vague, so if any of my mutuals want details, DM me. I am happy to talk about everything with you all.

Anyway this wake up call, if you will, has made me introspective AF. It's made me start thinking about and questioning a lot of the choices I've made, my motivation and justification for those choices, etc. I promise I'm not going to post my self-analyzing. Ain't nobody got time for that. But I like to work things out through writing, and while some stuff says in the journal, maybe some things can be shared.

Over the last few weeks I've been thinking about Tumblr and the wonderful friends I've made here. Certain people came to mind where I would think, "I bet Rosemary could understand this" or "Jamie might benefit from knowing they're not alone in their struggles" and so on. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent.) Then I got a little sad because even though I've tried to stay in touch as best I could, it's not really enough. I could try harder, do better, to connect with and be here for the people who matter to me on Tumblr.

I've also noticed that in times of stress and anxiety, I stop doing the things I love, the things that bring me joy. Why is that? To give myself more free time to fixate, ruminate, and worry? To spend EVEN MORE TIME, riding the what-if train to the doomsday station? It's ridiculous.

OK, I'm not going to waste any more time worrying about WHY my brain immediately goes into crisis mode instead of writing or crafting or petting some puppies. I'm just going to do it. As soon as the worrying fires up, I'm going to cut it off and immediately do something. Maybe it's something joyful, like crafting in my art journal or writing a few more chapters in my latest story. Or maybe it's scrubbing the god damn shower tile. Either way, it's a productive use of my time. It's not just sitting there getting anxious about what might happen, or regretting choices I've already made. Because nobody gets to the end of their life and thinks "I wish I had worried more."

I can't undo the choices and decisions I've already made. I can't go back in time. But I CAN do better with the information I have now and the choices ahead of me. I can make decisions based on knowledge, not fear.

The greatest lesson I've learned in the last few weeks is to stop avoiding things I don't want to deal with. I ignored things I should have done. And then I buried that avoidance under bad choices. I beg of you, please don't do that. Please don't avoid the unavoidable. Find support, ask for help, hell, DM me if you just want advice, a cheerleader or a shoulder to cry on. It might take me a second to get back to you, but I promise if you reach out for help of any kind, I will answer. You don't have to do anything alone. But the price we pay for avoiding things is way too high.

Yikes, I really did ramble on this one. I appreciate your indulgence, as always.

[bluberimufim]

I am once again going insane over Giulio Cesare in Egitto. Mostly its libretto. God.

Cornelia's almost melodic recitative breaking up Curio and Cesare's very rhythmic conversation, especially when saying "Da pace all'armi"? The sudden rise of Achilla's "questa del gran Pompeo superba testa" followed by a return to the calmer recitative from before with "di base al regal trono" because he thinks he did nothing wrong?

The whiplash between "Svegliatevi nel core, furie d'un alma offesa, a far d'un traditor aspra vendetta!" and "L'ombra del genitore, accorre a mia difesa e dice: a te il rigor, figlio, figlio, si aspetta"? The entirety of "Alma del Gran Pompeo"??

The tension in the rise and fall of Nireno and Cleopatra's "Troncar fè Tolomeo il capo... / Ohimè! di chi? / Del gran Pompeo" and later "Che gli mandò? / L'esanimato volto"?? The absolute clash between the melody and lyrics of "Tu sei il cor di questo core" that combines somewhat apologetic and tender-sounding lyrics with loud threatening music? And I think there's a musical Dies Irae reference in there? The first word of Cesare and Tolomeo's arias about each other being "l'empio"??

The absolute rawness of the line "L'aure che spira tirano e fiero egli non merta di respirar"? The melody of "Vanni son i lamenti" as Sesto announces his desire for revenge and "Sappi, perfido monstro" after he fulfils it being the same?

The climax of "Son nata a lagrimar" mirroring Cesare and Cleopatra's "verá" through harmony in the final duet, comparing the separation of act 1 with the reuniting of act 3? Tolomeo yelling "Sveglia! Sveglia!" in Cornelia's face after "svegliare" being established as basically Sesto's word in "Svegliatevi"? And Sesto's being a prayer and request while Tolomeo's is an order???

I AM LOSING MY MIND (affectionately)

[adriartts]

more side character designs now to the tune of the Kil sisters

[girlwiththegreenhat]

i genuinely love when you can tell an older show was Not made with high quality video viewing in mind. i am watching knight rider and constantly seeing all the little mistakes they surely brushed under the rug thinking nobody would see them on their crunchy little CRTs back in the 80s, that are huge attention grabbers now in HD fullscreen on my 3 foot computer monitor

the biggest one of course is all the drivers/controllers for the (in-universe) self driving car, kitt. there's guys tucked down in the footwells who can't always stay out of the shot. there's a guy who has a Car Seat Suit to blend in and look like the drivers seat from a distance, but you can always tell when that's the method they're using for a particular shot because its so much thicker than the passenger seat next to it and the headrest is missing it's cutout section. in at least one instance he starts taking the suit off too early, on a focus shot of the damn car, so its REAL visible.

all the extremely obvious stunt drivers or performers who look nothing like the character they're supposed to be

props, such as animals, vanishing from the car interior for stunt/race sequences.

the production crew (or their shadows) being visible in the background. only at a glance, but its especially hilarious in shots where nobody else is supposed to be around

the camera panning out from a sound stage set far enough that you can actually see over the edges of the set and into the stage they were filming in. mostly this happens with their truck trailer mobile unit thing.

this one isn't a mistake but every time the car "turbo jumps" they CLEARLY hide the ramp behind another car, a prop, the environment, and its just. so charming. sometimes its blatantly on screen just for a moment. like... of Course in real life this car isn't magically leaping 20 feet, of course its a ramp, but it's still so silly and fun to be reminded of how they were doing those stunts to begin with.

also not really a mistake but related, the bracket they keep on the front of the car for stunt work.... is just left on half the time. cuz it's a pain to take on and off.

and there are more examples that are more unique that haven't cemented themselves in my head well yet, but these are the more notable or common things i see and it's really charming. if i'm not giggling to myself noticing the "seams" and flaws and so human imperfections of your show or movie what EVEN is the point. hollywood is too flashy these days i think!

[intrigd-voyagr]

i think the last time i was in a newly picked up fandom for more than a couple months was my ratboygenius phase which went on for 2-3 years if im correct and only just petered out in 2018 or so.... i still technically have contact with those peeps, but the old server isnt alive like it used to be rip 💔 still drop art sometimes tho i fukin love rbg still peak cinema ✌️ (I STILL MISS YOU ERASED AU...... OUR BABY. FUCK)

now kinitopet is going strong at a collective 7 months. like damn. this one's proving it's here to stay boys

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

Anyone know if LibreOffice has a mobile option? I've been using gdocs to edit pieces away from home when I don't have a chance to print a physical copy to mark up.

Microsoft Office, like many companies in recent months, has slyly turned on an “opt-out” feature that scrapes your Word and Excel documents to train its internal AI systems. This setting is turned on by default, and you have to manually uncheck a box in order to opt out.

If you are a writer who uses MS Word to write any proprietary content (blog posts, novels, or any work you intend to protect with copyright and/or sell), you’re going to want to turn this feature off immediately.How to Turn off Word’s AI Access To Your Content

I won’t beat around the bush. Microsoft Office doesn’t make it easy to opt out of this new AI privacy agreement, as the feature is hidden through a series of popup menus in your settings:On a Windows computer, follow these steps to turn off “Connected Experiences”:

File > Options > Trust Center > Trust Center Settings > Privacy Options > Privacy Settings > Optional Connected Experiences > Uncheck box: “Turn on optional connected experiences”

[bunnis-monsters]

do you think the cow/bull hybrids would appreciate someone with thicc thighs and a big booty 😵‍💫 i got em irl and im a lil self conscious about em but

smth about a monster seeing someone with my build going "AWOOGA" does excellent things to my self-esteem

NSFW

warning: SIZE DIFFERENCE, tummy bulge, double penetration(two ds in v), breeding, pregnancy, lactation

You had just started working as a farmhand, helping carry out food for the cow hybrids and give them attention to make sure their milk production continued as usual.

They’re a bit dramatic, and if they aren’t given affection and attention, they won’t produce anymore!

So you started to spend a lot of time in the barn, stroking their cocks and milking them yourself.

It wasn’t easy work, but it paid well! It should have been embarrassing when they’d bury their head in your shoudler and moo pathetically while they filled the bucket up with cum, but weirdly enough you found it cute and endearing.

That morning, you pouted a little as you pulled up your jeans, having to jump and squirm to fit them over your fat ass. Your thighs were so plump, and your tummy poked out, to you it was annoying!

But as you strolled through the barn, giving the cow hybrids their food and chatting with the other employees, you never noticed the eyes following you as you walked.

After a few weeks of working there, you were finally allowed into the bull hybrid’s area. They were way more obvious with their staring, not caring to hide the way their cocks stood at attention when you walked by.

“Hey, heifer. You come to breed with us, huh?”

You nearly fell over when a bull hybrid pressed up against your ass, his cock slipping between your clothed thighs. “U-um, I’m not a heifer-“

You yelped when he grabbed a handful of your plump ass, squeezing harshly. “Shh, you’re a runt, aren’t you? Little thing, couldn’t keep my eyes off this fat ass of yours…”

He began to fuck your thighs, groaning into your ear. “Fuck, gonna give you a calf, okay? Bend over for me will y-“

Before he could get your pants down, a cow hybrid spotted him and charged, mooing angrily.

“H-hey! We had her first, you can’t touch!”

The cow hybrid pushed the bull, whining and grabbing at you, pulling you into his arms and nuzzling his head against your hair.

The bull huffed, pawing at the ground with his foot, but he couldn’t argue. The herds coexisted peacefully, and he didn’t want to risk a fight breaking out between them over who gets to mate you first.

The bulls would get their turn… but the cows wanted you, had earned you.

The cow guided you back to the barn, cooing and nuzzling against you, his tail wrapped around your leg. He was so big and warm, licking you with his large, flat tongue. “Come, it’s only a matter of time before the bulls get impatient. We’ll mate you first…”

It didn’t seem like you had any choice in the matter… not like you would refuse though, you were already soaking through your panties just from the encounter with that bull alone.

And seeing all the cows gather around you, stroking their cocks and running their large hands over your plump curves wasn’t helping.

“Sorry, little one. They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

One of the cows was already pulling your panties off, cupping your fat ass and lightly patting it, in awe as it jiggled.

“I’m okay… j-just…”

You whined, your pussy throbbing with need as you remembered the bull’s thick cock fucking your thighs before you were pulled away.

“Shh, shh…”

Several of the cow hybrids surrounded you, nuzzling into your neck and pushing their cocks between your thighs to fuck them. “Gonna breed you right, okay? Those mean bulls won’t be gentle with you, just a little runt… just a tiny heifer…”

You gasped as one of their fat cocks penetrated you, unable to speak before another one began poking at you, wanting in too.

The first cow fucked into you, licking your neck and mooing in pleasure as the other one whined and nuzzled in closer. They were so soft and fluffy, warm and sweet… but you weren’t sure if you could take two cocks in your pussy at once!

It seemed like it was happening anyways, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth as the second one entered your pussy, the men whining happily and fucking into you as gently as they could manage. You felt like you were being torn apart, stretched to your limits… but it felt amazing.

As they came, they were quickly replaced by others, and everyone got a turn with you, their lovely little heifer.

When your pussy was stuffed full, cum flowing down your thighs, the cows yawned and curled up around you protectively, licking your hair and trying to nest with you.

Farm work was… different after that day. The cows expected to breed you at least once a week, and within a month you were promoted, given free housing on the farm… as long as you kept the livestock happy.

During on outing, you noticed the cows acting a bit agitated, clingy to you more than usual. Despite this, they were leading you towards the bull hybrid barn, even though they had been keeping you away from it since your first encounter.

“It’s time for their turn…” one of the cows muttered with a pout. “Don’t worry, gonna keep you safe… but you gotta breed with them too… only fair…”

You were… excited. You loved the cow hybrids, but the bulls made your pussy throb in excitement.

The second the barn doors opened, all eyes were on you. You were presented before the bulls, only wearing a pair of panties.

“Ain’t a heifer anymore, is she? Bred her good…”

You were a bit confused, not knowing cow terminology… what did that mean?

You didn’t get enough time to think before a bull was crouching down to inspect your warm, soaked pussy. A long, flat tongue licked along your plump folds, making you moan.

“Making cute sounds for me already… when will she start producing?”

One of the cows huffed, pawing at the ground as he approached. “In a few months… once she’s showing you can’t have her, too rough. She’s little, just a runt.”

The bull rolled his eyes, standing at his full height. “Let me see that pretty pussy of yours, little one. Bend over.”

You obeyed, bending over and whimpering softly as he pushed one of his fingers into your needy cunt. “Sucking me in…”

He pulled his finger out, his cock twitching at the wet squelching sound your fat pussy made. “Fuck… needy little thing, aren’t you?”

When he finally pressed his cock against your pretty hole, the size difference between the bull hybrids and cow hybrids became apparent.

The bull was absolutely gigantic, towering over you as he started to push in. The stretch made you whimper and cling to one of the cow hybrids for comfort. Even when two cow hybrids had fucked into you at the same time, it was nothing compared to this!

The bull bottomed out inside you, licking at your neck and cheek with his massive tongue. It was almost difficult to breathe with his cock fucking into you, but it also felt so goddamn good that all you could to was blubber out pleas for more.

The cow hybrids fussed over you, holding your chubby belly as it bulged slightly each time the bull’s hips snapped against yours. They seemed more worried over you than usual, giving you kissing and playing with your throbbing clit.

By the time the bulls had all had their own turn, you were limp, your ass in the air as cum flowed down your fat thighs. You’d never felt so full, so stuffed before…

And you loved it.

Life was different for you after that. You learned a few days later that the reason behind the cow hybrids’ overprotective nature lately was due to you being pregnant with a calf.

As your belly grew heavy and swollen, it seemed you never got a break from your tits being suckled at. You produced so much milk due to being pregnant with a calf, more than any human woman was supposed to.

So you spent most of your days being fawned over, a cow or bull hybrid at your tit and sucking softly. You were always keeping someone’s cock warm, and you couldn’t be happier.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y

[kurohe]

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(Thanks everyone for your help, and for adding things yourself with your reblogs <3)

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. Also, resign your amazon prime subscription. We revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step to not freely give em your data and money

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

(edit: imma say this, you should read up on what the risks of stealing are, for you and others. Stealing from big stores is IMO always morally right, but it is risky for many reasons. Be careful)

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

(edit: been told that it's very risky for walmart workers to not scan things, so beware.)

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. Learn how to run fast and fight well.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

(this used to also include getting a gun. I deleted it because i don't feel comfortable recommending this. But it's still an option.)

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[nicromancytarot]

WHAT WILL YOU LOOK LIKE IN 5 YEARS?

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what you will look like in 5 years time, pick a picture to find out what they had to say!

PILE 1

Golly gosh, my sweet pile number 1’s, I must tell you the cards I got for this.

2 of pentacles, 8 of cups, 4 of cups, Moon, Page of cups, Tower, 10 of swords, High priestess, 2 of wands, Queen of swords, 5 of pentacles, Lovers.

We’re a little bit hectic over here if you can’t already tell. I wouldn’t say this is anything to worry about however.

Starting off! I feel that your physical appearance is going to change a lot during this era of your life, whether that be you go through a bunch of phases, try new things, receive procedures etc. I feel that a lot of you may feel stagnant in how you look during this time, you may find that you’re right on the cusp of looking how you want, but are struggling to get there. Some of you may begin to notice features of your own mother poking through, others may start to look more mature and possibly take on a more maternal appearance — this could be seen in having a little more maturity to your body perhaps after childbirth, or even just beginning to put your appearance on the back burner if you have kids that must take the forefront of your mind.

I have a feeling that a lot of you will go through a major glow up around this time, which is great, however! The motivation will arise around some sort of betrayal or major shake up like heartbreak, whatever it is will instantly get you feeling like you need to take more care of yourself, and becoming much brighter and just looking happier because of it.

The change in your appearance during this time will certainly mark a new beginning and major change in your life, it will really be that first step to a fresh start.

You may begin taking more care of your body, and specially your skin, perhaps spending more money on the highest review products, or just even investing in some long term serums that you know work wonders for your skin. (Please be careful with how much you spend on this stuff lol, you can definitely find cheaper stuff with amazing properties if you look hard enough) This could also imply that many of you will begin working out and eating healthier around this time as well, ensuring that your self care is the top of your priorities.

And finally, our lovers. Now I would say this will bring a new love opportunity to you, but when I first thought this card was present, it was actually the king of wands that caught my eye in the middle of the deck. You’re going to love yourself a lot more, love looking at yourself in the mirror, and just overall feeling more like yourself. You will love who you have become. Good luck my lovelies, get that beauty on!

Physical features: Intense eyes/eye makeup, wearing lots of black and mysterious colours, becoming skinnier or leaner, muscle building could be applicable, stubborn features you can’t quite get rid of (perhaps a bit of flab on your thighs, something that just makes you look more mature, still hot as hell by the way), some of you may stop shaving for a period of time, black hair, spiky jewellery, silver jewellery, cold toned makeup, clothes, gems etc.

PILE 2

Hello my pile number 2’s, how’s it going? Starting off strong we already have the two of cups, so I’m sure this appearance will be highly negated by the status of your relationships, specially those that we deem romantic. I’m seeing that during this time you are trying different things and may even be getting advice from family and friends about what to wear or what things to CONSCIOUSLY consume — I cannot stress it enough that money is big talk here, I need you to be very aware on what you’re spending your coins for, I wouldn’t recommend any expensive surgeries that could end up going wrong, specially lip injections/filler.

Anywho! You could be being very intentional about the way you appear, perhaps with ensuring you do enough research into new products before purchasing them, or even investing in a personal dermatologist, colour coordinator, personal trainer etc — it’s all very well thought out.

Your glow up, if there is one, may be motivated by some sort of competition, so perhaps just ensure you don’t get too deep into all of that. Knight of pentacles appears twice here, so I’m definitely getting the message that you will be investing a lot of time and effort into your appearance, liking the way you look could be a long time coming.

You’ll have a lot of tips to share with people around this time for sure.

God damn it, I flipped the deck for more info and we got the tower. Ok! Dramatic changes. PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH PROCEDURES!!! I really feel like this is something I need to say with all seriousness. You go for lip filler, you’re coming out with sausages glued to the absence of your lips, also heavy chance you can get scammed when trying to get something done. I would absolutely not recommend any plastic surgery of that kind — however you can get away with waxing (I’m specially getting your bikini line lmao), eyebrows threaded, hair done professionally, professional makeup, nails etc — that’s all fine, but I’m getting a really big feeling to tell you to avoid any plastic surgery, specially if you’re from the UK.

I’m being told you need to embrace your natural features, things that you’ve hidden before can be very alluring when you learn how to harness them. A lot of you may look young for you age, honestly embrace it, you’re going to look twenty at fifty, and the rest of the world will sag, so good on you!

Physical features: doe eyes/very loving expressions, unconventional features that make people look twice (perhaps drawing on moles, or not covering up already existing ones), you could thrift most of your clothes (and get really good at it), may lean into more blues for colours, spending a fair bit money on accessories or hair/makeup etc, whimsical clothes, wearing reds/red lipstick, leaning more into the traditional looks from your culture.

PILE 3

Hello my wonderful pile number 3’s! Ok firstly, this is YOUR time for real, if you grew up without being conventionally attractive, this is your justice coming straight in and giving you that unthinkable glow up. Now this won’t be entirely easy, you will have to put in a fair amount of effort to receive this effortless look, which is fairly ironic given the name. Anyways, I’m seeing the need to take control and allow yourself to focus on your own appearance, people may tell you “looks aren’t everything” or “personality matters the most,” and while they are not far off, it’s not hard to assume they grew up with the privilege you yourself may have not been lucky enough to hold badge of. As it always goes, money is of the essence here, and you may need to spend a fair amount to get that look you desire — obviously do it with a conscious consumer mindset, and don’t go overboard.

I’m seeing that you may join a community of sorts, like a subreddit with the best tips, or perhaps confide in a super cool witch that makes bank off people requesting beauty spells — something of the sort anyways. The people you meet through this community, whatever it is, will help guide you to harnessing your best potential. Now I will say that you may meet some that are a little misguided or too deep into it all, so be aware of what you consume and who you listen to, ensure it’s all ethical and worth your while.

Some of you may actually have to have a glow up for work, like it could be something so minute like having to do something nice with your hair, or having to wear a specific uniform that will just make it all pop and you will receive an abundance of compliments and attention. I’m also getting the message that you could have a new job with/or new uniform that like lowkey makes your eyes pop and you have that moment of realisation to what colours work the best for you.

My main message however is to make sure you don’t lose yourself in echo chambers that end up spewing shit about lookmaxxing or some weird ass phrenology. Like please be aware lol, I’m sure you’ll be fine.

Physical features: Looking intimidating or unapproachable, looking more expensive, glow up that will 100% make people wonder how the hell you did it, appearance change through work (new uniform, hair, makeup), wise appearance, type of person someone sees once and never again but always thinks of, wearing warm palettes (yellow, orange, red, brown), tired/experienced eyes, thrifting clothes/making something old look new

[moonstruckme]

hii! im not sure if you're taking requests, but i love your work! this might sound weird, but as a muscular girl who works out a lot, i get insecure sometimes about looking "too masculine." i was wondering if you could do something like poly!marauders reassuring the reader that it's actually really hot or something? im sorry if this comes off as weird!! i just don’t see too many fics with a muscular fem reader and finally decided to bite the bullet and request something for the first time! thank youuu ❤️

Thanks for requesting angel <3

cw: reader is insecure about her shoulders, reflects on narrow ideas of femininity

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 869 words

“You’re such a pleb,” Sirius teases Remus, taking his tie from him. 

“I am a pleb,” Remus grumbles. “I wasn’t meant to wear things like this.” 

“No, only sweaters and scowls for you, is that right?” 

Remus’ cheeks color. Sirius grins, pecking them both. 

You think Remus was made to wear things like this. He and Sirius both look very dashing, though different shades of it. Remus’ tie is a muted gray while Sirius wears a suit all of the darkest blue to set off his eyes. Sirius gives Remus’ tie a flirtatious tug, and Remus cracks, smiling as Sirius kisses him once more. 

“Angel, will you help me with mine?” James asks, coming in from the bathroom with wet curls already trying to spring up above his head. 

You turn away from where you’d been tugging at your dress in the mirror. Sirius scoffs, finishing with Remus’ tie. 

“You know how to tie a tie, James, I’ve seen you.” 

“I didn’t say I don’t know how,” says James. “I just want her to do it.” 

“Such a man-baby.” 

“Me? You’re one to talk.” 

“Now what could you mean by that?” 

“You look really beautiful, dove,” Remus says quietly, coming up behind you to twine his arms around your waist. You leave your boyfriends to their bantery foreplay. 

Your face warms at his notice. “Thank you. So do you.” 

Sometimes Remus seems to have an easier time taking compliments from you. Maybe it’s that you don’t make as big a production of them as either James or Sirius, but rather than flushing and deflecting Remus only presses a thankful kiss to your cheek. 

You look at the two of you in the mirror. You do look rather nice together, though a worm of insecurity eats at your middle. Remus doesn’t dwarf you. You don’t mind how you look, most of the time. You like that you’re strong, that your body shows the work you’ve put into it, that you look capable. And yet. Sometimes, times like now, you just wish you were…daintier. Not dainty as in feeble, but slight. Sylphlike. Feminine in the way you were taught what feminine is. 

“I think I’m going to change,” you confess. 

Remus frowns. It appears you’ve caught Sirius’ notice, too, who turns from where he’s picking out shoes near the closet. “What? What’s wrong with this dress?” 

“It’s…” You straighten your posture a little bit, and the effect makes you grimace. You try to quell it when you catch Remus watching your face. “I just don’t like it very much.” 

“I think it’s lovely,” says Remus, in his mild way. 

Sirius nods, assessing. “Yeah, babe, that’s your color.”

“Thanks.” You try to smile at him. “It’s not really the color, it’s just how it makes me look.” 

Sirius cocks an eyebrow. His arms cross, defensive. “And how is that?” 

You shrink, feeling chastised already. “I don’t love how my shoulders look in it, that’s all.” 

Sirius’ eyes narrow like he wants to fight with you. Remus murmurs his name warningly. 

“Your shoulders?” James seems surprised. “They look killer in that, lovely.” 

“I don’t really want them to look killer,” you admit. 

“What’s your issue with them?” asks Sirius. 

“Sirius,” Remus groans.

“What?” 

“A bit of tact, please.” 

“It’s fine.” You roll your eyes, trying not to squirm under all the attention. “I just feel like they look pretty broad with the neckline like this.” 

Remus meets your eyes in the mirror, a perplexed notch between his brows. “And you’d rather they didn’t?” 

“Ideally, yeah.” 

“Angel,” says James, “do you have any idea how ridiculously fit your shoulders look like that?” 

This stumps you. Realistically, the answer is no?

James goes on as though he’s heard it telepathically. “You look like you could lift me. Me. That’s, like, a fantasy.” 

“You fantasize about me lifting you?” you ask skeptically. 

All three of your boyfriends nod, Remus somewhat sheepishly. 

“Why would you want them to look smaller?” James seems genuinely bewildered. “You worked for those, lovely.” 

“And they look good,” Sirius chimes in. 

You look at yourself in the mirror again, shifting in your dress uncomfortably. “You don’t think…when they look wide like this, it makes me feel a bit mannish.” 

“Mannish,” Sirius deadpans. “Really.” 

“Sweetheart,” Remus tries in a gentler tone, “you should wear what makes you feel good, but do you really think that you look like any of us?” 

In the mirror, Sirius raises an eyebrow at you in challenge. 

“My shoulders are about the same size as yours,” you confess in a small voice. 

“And do you think that makes Remus look womanly?” James asks. 

“No,” you reply quickly, hastening to clarify that that is not what you’re saying. 

Sirius hums, smug. “Can’t have it both ways, gorgeous.” 

“You look beautiful,” Remus says again, cupping his hands over your shoulders. He lets them coast down your arms, admiring. 

Your voice softens. “Thank you.” 

“And if I have to look plebeian and absurd in a suit,” he goes on at a murmur, “you can show off how fit you look in that dress.” 

Your eyes roll, though you know your boyfriends all see the smile you’re trying to suppress. “Fair enough.”  

[okay-j-hannah]

The Kickstart | Smosh 💛

Smosh : Multishot

Spencer Agnew x Reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, Spencer pining, reader is struggling in LA, not a lot of money, multiple jobs, poor studio apartment, inconsiderate boyfriend, lots of musical theatre talk, reader insert but a few things are already decided (last name is Bennett, favorite drink is Diet Coke, love the colors blue and green, artist, theatre nerd, etc.)

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

A/N: I haven't written for Smosh in years... but the current cast and crew has me sucked back into the fandom. And I am sorely in need of more Spencer content 😭

I was initially inspired by this incredibly well done fic "Late Night" by @simpingsavant Please give it a read because it's a masterpiece.

Part 1: The Kickstart {You Are Here}

Part 2: Mama Bear

It was nearly three in the morning. The witching hour, you think with a smile. There was a light flickering near the fountain drinks. You lean against the checkout counter, thumbing through an aged script.

You memorize the cue lines that signal when quick changes are supposed to happen between scenes. The current musical you are working on is Hairspray.

Going through the script and your production notes really help pass the time.

The small rinky-dink gas station you manage is your reluctant home most nights. It wasn’t your favorite place, but it helped with the bills. Trying to make a living on production design for musicals isn’t the money maker you hoped it would be in LA.

You barely made anything doing hair and makeup for the community theatre. But it was something you loved.

And wouldn’t you rather be doing something you love than being miserable in a high paying corporate job?

Sure, you think.

It had been nearly eight months since you started working at this gas station. The owner was as rinky-dink as the store itself, speaking in short, to the point sentences and avoiding eye contact. There were only two gas pumps out front that rarely attracted customers.

The biggest commodity are the cheap drinks and snacks inside. Many stop by for something quick on their way to and from work.

Normally working the night shifts from 10pm to 6am, you are quick to notice any regulars. Not many people are awake at this time of night, let alone on their way to the gas station for a drink.

The bell sounds above the door as a familiar face enters. It was Glasses.

That’s what you called him after seeing him for the third time in a week, back when you first started working here.

He usually came in late like this, looking exhausted. He has curly dark hair, gold rimmed glasses, and some scruff. Today he’s dressed in jeans rolled up at the cuffs, brown boots, and a gray sweatshirt.

He gives you an awkward, close-lipped smile as he passes. You watch him go for the drink fridges. Energy drinks are his specialty, maybe the occasional coffee or breakfast sandwich. He always bought them two at a time, taking the slight discount for buying a duo instead of a single.

About every other week he’s there three to four of those days. You’ve always wondered why – especially when he always looked so tired when he came in.

But you’ve never had a conversation that’s lasted longer than the cordial exchanges.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hello,” he replies with his awkward smile.

You scan his drinks, Mountain Dew Kickstarts like always. “Find everything you need?”

“Yep.”

The computer beeps. “That’ll be $8.56.”

“All right.” He taps his card on the machine in front of him.

“Would you like your receipt?”

“No thanks.” He grabs his two cans.

“Have a nice night.”

“You too.”

It had been like that for maybe six of those eight months. After that, your curiosity began to plague you. The next time he came in, you watch him browse for a Kickstart and a breakfast muffin.

Saying hello to him had felt routine. But it was clear that you both recognized each other. So you decide to say something a little more than usual.

“Getting breakfast a little early?” you joke in your quiet voice.

He smiles, pulling out his wallet. “I just haven’t eaten anything all night.”

“Sounds like a rough night. That’s $9.34.”

He scans his card. “It has been.”

With him looking down at the keypad, you take the time to look at the circles under his eyes. “You should try the croissant sandwiches. Much better than stale muffins.”

He nods his head, “Next time. Thanks.”

You watch him walk away, still at a loss as to why he’s always in there this late at night.

A couple days later he’s walking in and giving you a wave. You smile at him as he makes for the drinks again.

He’s dressed in those same jeans and combat boots. Now he wears a t-shirt with a denim jacket. If you had friends to talk to, you’d want to tell them how Glasses loves to wear the same jeans and jackets all the time.

He comes to the counter and clears his throat.

You scan his drinks and a breakfast sandwich. A croissant sandwich.

You chuckle, “You won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m counting on it,” he says, tapping his card against his hand while he waits.

“Haven’t eaten anything all night again?”

He hums, shrugging his shoulders, “Felt peckish.”

“Do you want your receipt?”

“No, that’s fine. Have a good night.”

You throw the balled up receipt into the garbage bin beside you. “You too.”

You’d love to tell a friend that Glasses seems shy. He seems nice.

A few weeks later, you’re drawing sketches for costume designs. You were doing Shrek The Musical at the community theatre. Papers were full of drawings depicting a white rabbit, a wicked witch, a wolf in granny clothes, and fairies with colorful makeup.

You were humming one of the songs when Glasses came in with a yawn. His eyes search for you and he waves, “Good evening.”

“Good night,” you say sarcastically.

He grabs his drinks and comes to the counter with wandering eyes. You try to move your sketches and pencils out of the way.

“Sorry,” you say, “That’ll be $8.56.”

He scans his card, but keeps looking at your art. “You draw those?”

“Yeah,” you say, abashedly. “Little project.”

“They’re really good,” he pops open one of the drinks and takes a sip. “Are they just for fun, or…?”

You shyly pull out a drawing of a person in a dragon scale costume. “They’re for the musical I’m a part of. Down at the local theatre.”

“That’s cool,” his face lights up.

Something warm tickles your stomach. You were actually having a normal conversation with Glasses.

“Are you the costume designer?”

“Assistant,” you bow your head. “I’m head of hair and makeup.”

He nods, clearly interested. “Have you been a part of production teams much?”

“For years,” you smile, “I love theatre. I’ve done almost everything. Acting, costumes, set design, lighting – you name it.”

He pockets the other energy drink in his jacket pocket. “Sounds like fun. Have a nice rest of your night.”

“Thank you, you too.”

If you had friends, maybe you’d tell them that Glasses might become a friend. The only person you have to text is your new boyfriend Aaron. But he wasn’t a fan of nonsense texts – texts that were unnecessary.

A few weeks go by, now seven months into your job at the gas station. Glasses was still making his almost daily visits. You caught him standing outside the window for a minute before coming in.

You have confusion in your face, but a smile on your lips. “You okay there?”

He raises his eyebrows and talks as he walks to the fridges. “What do you mean?”

“Was there something on that window or were you just making sure you weren’t a vampire?” At his knitted brows, you continue, “You know… checking that you still had a reflection.”

Heat floods your face at the poor attempt at a joke, but Glasses laughs, nonetheless. “I might be nocturnal, but no, I’m not a vampire.”

You smile, admiring him walking towards you. His fluffy curls were sticking out from beneath a green hat. In white embroidery it says, Smosh.

“How were auditions?” he asks, getting his card ready.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Good. I think we’ll have a good cast.” Earlier that week he asked about the latest Hairspray script that was on your counter. “The quick changes will be fun.”

He clears his throat, having paid but still standing at the register.

“I’m sorry, did you want your receipt?” you ask suddenly. “Normally you don’t so I stopped asking.”

“No, no – sorry. I’ve been trying to find some clever segway to introduce myself. But we’ve been seeing each other for months and it feels strange to do it now.” He rubs his forehead, struggling to maintain eye contact with you while he talks. “I mean, it’s not like I have a nametag like you.”

You look down at your chest to see (Y/N) printed on the laminated tag. “That’s true.”

He takes a deep breath and extends his hand. “I’m Spencer.”

You take his hand. It was very warm. “(Y/N).”

He smiles, “Nice to officially meet you.”

Maybe you’ll tell Aaron that Glasses has a new name now. Spencer.

One night at two in the morning, you were asked to do inventory while another employee managed the registers. It was strange to have a coworker with you on night shifts, but when things need to be restocked, it took a team.

You use a box cutter to break through packages, pulling out chip bags and candies. You roll them out on a dolly. Plastic wrappers crinkling as you restock shelves, you don’t notice who Eric at the counter is talking to.

But then a pair of glasses peek around the corner. “Hey!”

You smile wide, “Spencer!”

He smiles back, “I was worried when I didn’t see you at the registers.”

“Yeah, they need two of us here when we do inventory,” you shake a bag of doritos before putting it on the shelf. “How was your day?”

He sighs, opening his drink, “Long. Shooting weeks always are.” He tells you about the online comedy group he’s a part of. It was called Smosh.

“Oh, you’ve worn some merch that has that logo on it,” you say, moving a box out of the way.

Spencer nods, “Gotta promote whenever we can.”

“How large is the group?”

“Well, it’s more of an entertainment company. We have a huge production team and a cast. We film content for four different channels.”

“That’s impressive.”

He suddenly dips down to help hand you boxes of candy. “I guess. I think most of LA are internet personalities in one way or another.”

“I’m not,” you say quietly. “It is impressive.”

You learn about his directorial position on one of the channels. Being a head producer, he has a lot of sway on that content. You commend him on the responsibility, and he seems pleased, if not a little embarrassed.

He excuses himself not long after that.

You head towards the registers to restock the candy on the counters. Eric is there giving you a telling smile.

“What are you looking at?” you ask.

The middle-aged man scoffs, “That guy came in with the biggest smile on his face, but then he realized I was the one standing at the counter and he looked so disappointed.”

“I’m sure he was just in need of an energy drink.”

Eric shakes his head, “It wasn’t me that he wanted to see.”

Now in the present, you stand at the counter while Spencer leans against the other side. You had just revealed the fact that you have a boyfriend.

“H-How long have you been together?” he asks with much more nervousness than before.

You scrunch your nose in thought, “About two months. It’s been great though. He gives me rides to work and everything.”

“You don’t have a car?” Spencer asks, paying for his snacks.

You throw the receipt away, “No. I was taking the bus before I met him.” Noticing the awkwardness enter Spencer’s face, you say, “Rough I know. But I manage.”

“It’s nice of him.”

“Yeah, especially because I don’t really make enough to get a car right now.”

“Isn’t that why you have this job on top of the musical theatre stuff?” he offers you a package of your favorite candy.

It makes you smile, “Sure. But rent isn’t helping with my savings. Living paycheck to paycheck.”

“Does Aaron drive you to theatre too?”

Your gaze falls from Spencer’s, eating a piece of candy to give you some time before answering. “No, he’s not a big fan of musicals.”

Spencer scrunches his brow. Unsure of what was stepping over the line with this new friend of his, he tiptoes. “He won’t drive you because he doesn’t like theatre?”

“It’s kind of inconvenient asking him to come get me late after rehearsals. I shouldn’t ask for so much, he’ll think I’m dating him just to have a cab driver.” You snicker at your joke, but Spencer doesn’t seem to think it’s very funny.

He drinks from his can when another customer enters the store. That always meant he would excuse himself so you could get back to your job.

You start to expect Spencer each week. You wait for when you know a filming week was at Smosh. During that time, Spencer would visit for his necessary caffeine. He always stops to talk to you for a few minutes before leaving.

You always feel bad since he normally came in exhausted from work. He denies himself sleep just to spend a few more minutes with you.

It takes a couple more weeks, but he starts to stay even when more customers come in. He just steps to the side and waits for you to ring the customer up.

Then he comes back to continue your conversation.

“So do you prefer acting or production?”

You share the snacks that he’s purchased. “Production, for sure. I kind of developed stage fright a couple years ago. But I do miss being on stage sometimes.”

He looks at you while you talk. He’s an active listener. He zeros in on your face while you speak, ensuring he doesn’t miss anything.

But when he speaks, he tends to look elsewhere. “Did something happen?”

You shrug, “I just get nervous being in the spotlight now. I don’t like the attention much.”

“I get that. I haven’t always loved being on camera. It’s taken finding the right company to do it.”

You nod, “That sounds nice. To be so comfortable in the workplace. And to have everyone there as friends.”

He agrees, “Though a lot of them like to crack jokes about not seeing each other outside of work.” He chuckles as he remembers something. “It’s great being a part of a company where the goal is comedy content. You get to have fun with your friends every day.”

“And you’ve been there for so long,” you say, “You’ve definitely earned your place.”

“Thank you,” he feels warm around the collar, “It’s been hard at times, but well worth it now.”

You suddenly feel a warmth in your cheeks. “You know, um… my show opens next week. If – If you’re interested in seeing it. I’ll be there every night.”

“Helping Edna quick change into her fancy 60s outfit,” he smiles kindly. His eyes are soft and considerate as he watches your nervous gesture. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

You brighten, “Great!”

A week later you’re in the wings of the stage, sweaty with the heat the spotlights generate. A headset adorns your head, microphone near your mouth. You’re readjusting a costume onto a rack from the last quick change.

The last number of the show was currently playing: You Can’t Stop the Beat. You whisper the lyrics and subtly follow along with the choreography.

It was safe to do so with the curtains hiding you from the audience.

You listen to the applause as the cast bows. You imagine them gesturing to the tech booth, acknowledging the production team behind the scenes. You give a little imaginary bow to the audience.

Waiting in the dressing rooms, you help organize the costumes and clean up the makeup counters. Cast members thank you for your help, carrying massive bouquets and presents from the crowd.

You compliment the flowers and give your praise to their performances. It’s forty minutes later, having put the makeup and hairspray away, preening the wigs, and spraying down the character shoes, that you find your purse and head towards the front doors.

Outside on the sidewalk you’re met with an unexpected surprise.

Spencer.

He stands under the white lights of the theatre logo. He adorns his usual rolled up jeans and band t-shirt, denim jacket over it. His curls look extra defined tonight and in his hand are three colorful carnation flowers.

“Spencer? What are you…? I didn’t know you were coming tonight!” You walk towards him and for the first time since meeting him – you hug him.

Arms around his shoulders, smelling his clean, fresh scent. He seems timid to hug you back.

“Well… I did say I would come see the show.”

You shake your head. “I would have come out sooner if I knew you’d be here. I’m so sorry to keep you so long.”

“It’s no problem,” he offers the flowers. “Worth the wait.”

You give a smile, but your face is still regretful, “You shouldn’t have. I wasn’t even on stage.”

“Of course you were,” he says, “Your costumes and wigs and makeup were there.”

You hold the few flowers, completely endeared by him. “Thank you. This is really kind of you. You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs, shoving his empty hands into his pockets. “It’s kind of weird seeing you out of uniform. I’ve never seen you out of that polo and black pants.”

“Well, stage crew attire isn’t much different,” you laugh, gesturing to the long sleeve black shirt and leggings. “What did you think of the show?”

“It was excellent,” he says, “It’s such a fun show. I bet you loved teasing those wigs and picking out costumes with those crazy patterns.”

“And the quick changes?”

“I counted like 38 seconds,” he laughs, “That’s super impressive.”

You smile warmly, though the night air had a chill to it. “Thank you for coming, Spencer. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” he steps away, “I’ll see you later.”

You start to walk down the sidewalk, opposite the parking lot. Spencer suddenly has a thought. He runs up to you.

“Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Oh, I walk to the bus stop and take that.”

He looks down at your crossed arms trying to keep you warm. “Aaron really won’t come get you?”

“I don’t want to inconvenience him.” You wave away the look of worry in his face. “I do this every night, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Yeah, but… you shouldn’t have to.”

“Have a good night, Spence.”

You’ve never used a nickname with him before. He huffs a little before following your retreating figure, “Then let me give you a ride.”

You keep walking, “Really, Spence – I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he says, “But let me help. I want to give you a ride. It’s cold.”

Your fingers feel like ice against your arms. You look in the direction of the bus stop before looking at the pleading in Spencer’s face.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

Relief floods his expression, “Great, this way.”

He guides you to his car and even opens the passenger door for you. It’s a kind gesture that you aren’t used to. He turns on the heater and your seat warmer before exiting the parking lot.

You direct him to your poor excuse of a studio apartment. The pair of you speak pleasantries the entire way. The lighting design of the musical, the strategic sets that move quickly, the realistic prop hairspray, and things like that.

He didn’t notice how you cower in the seat. He thinks it’s just because you’re still cold.

“Is the gas station good about changing your schedule so you can be there on show nights?”

“Yes, they’re so kind about it,” you say, playing with your fingers. It was a nervous habit of yours – pinching, rubbing, and picking at them. “I switch with a usual day shifter.”

Spencer nods, “I – I’ve missed seeing you at our usual time.”

“Our usual time?” you laugh, like your gas station hangouts were scheduled playdates.

He smiles, embarrassed, “Yeah, I mean… your customer service is so excellent. How am I supposed to get a Kickstart when you’re not there?”

“You know there are dozens of other gas stations and convenience stores around here.”

“Yeah, but they don’t have you.”

Something beats loudly in your chest. It sends a waterfall of warm, fizzing fireworks into your stomach.

Your apartment building is in a scary part of LA – but it’s what you can afford. Aaron was hinting at moving in together just for the ease of splitting the rent. It did sound appealing when you could actually save a little for a car.

“Thanks again for the ride,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt.

He looks nervous again, “Anytime. And… maybe we could exchange numbers – in case you need another ride from the theatre?”

You look at him warmly, “I’m not going to ask you to come grab me when you could be in a filming week.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I would still come.”

With a small smile, you take out your phone and open a new contact. In the name slot you put ‘Glasses.’ Spencer switches your phones and puts his number in.

You smile wider as you put your name in the contact and put a little theatre emoji after it.

“Glasses?” he asks, handing you back your phone.

“Yeah, that’s…” you brush warm fingers with him as you accept your phone. “That’s what I called you when I noticed you as a regular at the gas station. I didn’t know your name, so I gave you one in my head.”

He seems overly please about that. He has to look away from you and smile. “That’s funny, I like it. What would you do if you saw me without glasses? It would be a whole new identify to you.”

“Very Clark Kent of you,” you laugh.

He suddenly removes his gold rimmed glasses and looks at you all serious. “You’re right, during the day I’m fighting crime with the Justice League and at night I refuel at the gas station.”

“Superman refuels with energy drinks?” you laugh, causally reaching over to snatch his glasses. “I don’t know if Krypton would approve.”

“No, no – Kryptonians thrive off extra energy. Sun energy and now caffeine energy.”

His eyes are a dark green-gray color. Maybe that’s just because it’s dark outside. But you can’t decide what color they actually are. They’re definitely not brown.

You raise the glasses to your eyes and look at him. “I didn’t realize Superman was so blind.”

“It’s not that bad,” Spencer laughs, looking at you fondly.

You return the glasses, “Drive safe. Thanks again for the ride. Text me when you get home safely.”

He waves you off, waiting until you’re able to unlock your door before driving away.

Inside your apartment, you look at the chipped walls and cracked ceiling. The musty, uncomfortable couch in front of the small tv atop a table you got free off a lawn. To the right is the tiny kitchen with only one counter and no dining table.

Rummaging through a cabinet, you find a tall plastic cup to put your carnation flowers into.

The bathroom is straight ahead, where you go into to get ready for bed.

The porcelain of the tub and sink have rust stains around the handles. The tile of the floor is broken in places and the dim light above is giving off an ugly yellow glow.

You open the mirror cabinet to grab what you need to brush your teeth. Brand names are all obscure as you did get the supplies from a dollar store down the street.

If you had a little more money, you would buy a face wash and face towels. But the essentials were good enough.

You cross the hall to get to your bed. Being a studio apartment, there isn’t a separate room for your bed. It lies on the floor behind the tv stand and in front of the only window in the whole place.

The queen mattress was the one thing you spent a little more money on. It doesn’t have a headboard or support to keep it off the ground, but it was comfortable and had nice periwinkle blue sheets.

You change into sage green pajamas with little daisies on them, climbing into your bed and fumbling for the phone charger next to the mattress.

As you plug your phone in, a text message comes in from Glasses.

“Just got home. You did amazing tonight! See you later this week.”

You heart his message and give him a thank you in reply.

~~~

The end of the week is approaching and you’re at the theatre again. Headset on, you hang in the tech booth, grabbing a few more safety pins, mic tape, and alcohol wipes.

The oversized fanny pack you love to wear across your chest is open and full of supplies. You stuff the microphone items inside, watching the stage from the view of the booth.

Tracy was beginning the song Welcome to the 60s. You turn on the microphone by your mouth.

“Head to the wings for quick change pretty please.”

A muffled reply comes through the headset, “On the way, (Y/N).”

You leave the tech booth and walk out of the audience room to the side entrance of the wings. Waiting on stage right, you hold Edna’s new dress for the song. Two stage crew members help by holding accessories and waiting to take off Edna’s current costume.

“Go mama, go, go go!”

Edna comes running off to stage right, tossing their purse to the stage crew member. They wiggle out of their simple purple plaid dress and step right into the sparkly pink dress you have waiting open on the floor.

You pull up the fabric as you hear the lyrics continue on stage.

“Don’t let nobody try to steal your fun, ‘cause a little touch of lipstick never hurt no one.

The future’s got a million roads for you to choose, but you’ll walk a little taller in some high-heeled shoes.”

You zip up the dress and readjust the mic pack on the suit strap beneath. Stage crew throws a new necklace on and a sparkle to the lip makeup. The other stage crew snugs a fuller wig onto the actor, starting to pin it down onto the wig cap. You hand a feather boa to the actor and help pin the new wig in.

“Come on out, hear us shout. Mama, that’s your cue!”

Just in time, you think, sending the actor back onto stage. It always felt like a close call, but the audience shouting their surprise and praise always felt like a reward.

You smile at the stage crew members and wave them off to help with set pieces. You then take the old purple plaid costume to the rack to keep it from wrinkling on the floor.

While in the dressing rooms you meet the actress playing Penny Pingleton, “Hey, sis – I noticed your mic tape not sitting so good on your cheek.”

She smiles worriedly, the action making the mic tape unstick from her face and the microphone dangle from her ear. “Just a little.”

You pull out an alcohol wipe and roll of tape from your pack. “There might just be too much makeup in the way.” You wipe the spot where the microphone sits on her cheek, fanning your hand to make the alcohol dry.

Cutting two pieces of tape, you line the microphone and stick it in place. The actress keeps her face straight, letting it adhere.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

“Anytime.” You leave the dressing room to find the man playing Seaweed. His mic belt kept twisting beneath his costume.

You track him down and use safety pins to secure the mic belt to his undershirt. Now as he dances and changes, the mic pack will stay in place. He shares his gratitude and runs off to the next scene.

The rest of the show goes without a hitch. The audience claps during the bows, and you give your imaginary bow to the curtains.

You begin to clean the dressing rooms when you get a text. From Glasses.

“Hey, I’m at the entrance by the concessions when you’re done in the back.”

A smile creeps onto your face. He saw the show a second time? You text back, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You’re quick to clean up and organize the costumes before heading out. The front was still packed with audience members trying to talk and take pictures with the cast members. You push your way towards the concessions table to see Spencer there.

He was wearing a black Creed t-shirt, arms full of silly tattoos on total display. Instead of holding flowers, he’s holding a Diet Coke from the concessions. You grin, falling out of the crowd and into him for a hug.

He catches you and hugs you back. You feel the cold soda against your shirt.

“I can’t believe you came again!” You pull away, eyes shining. You’ve never had someone to meet outside the theatre after a show before.

He extends the drink he got for you. “I told you it was an excellent show. And I wanted to bring a friend to see it too.”

A woman stands beside him, “And he misses seeing you at the gas station every day.”

You miss how Spencer nudges the woman with his elbow. You were too busy recognizing her face.

“Oh my god – oh my fucking god,” you accidentally shake the soda as you wave your hands. “You’re Angela Giarratana!”

Her brown eyes widen ridiculously, “Um… yeah, I am.”

“You were on Nerdy Prudes Must Die!”

A smile replaces the surprise on her face, “Oh, yes! I was in that show last year. You really scared me there for a second.”

Spencer licks his lips, watching the excitement on your face. “I wondered if you’d seen anything from StarKid.”

“Well, I’m a theatre kid, aren’t I?” you say, “I literally have a Hatchetfield Nighthawks letterman jacket. It’s so nice to meet you, Angela. I’m (Y/N).” You lean into a hug and Angela returns it kindly.

“I know, Spencer’s talked about you.” She steps away and compliments the show, “You did a great job with the costume design. Spencer and I were timing the quick changes.”

“I am very proud of those,” you say excitedly. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop smiling. Thank you for coming to our show. How do you know Spencer?”

Angela smacks Spencer’s arm, “We work together. He’s more behind the scenes and I’m more on camera.”

“At Smosh? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, it’s all right,” she says, looking to Spencer and then laughing. “I gotta be careful or Spencer won’t put me in any of the videos on Games.”

You open your soda, drinking it like you were parched all night. “Are you working on any more theatre projects?”

“Eh, not at the moment,” Angela says, folding her arms. “I’m spending most of my time on Smosh sets.” She eyes you for a second before saying, “Do you have a portfolio by chance?”

“A portfolio?” you ask, wiping your lip of soda. “Of what?”

Angela rubs at her chin, “Sketches of your costume designs or makeup aesthetics. Maybe a performing arts resume. Pictures of your work on stage.”

“Um…” you pull awkwardly on the edge of your shirt. “No, not formally. But I could pull something together.”

“That’d be great. I’d love to see more of your work.”

Spencer looks incredibly pleased with himself, biting on his lips. “Would you let me give you a ride home?”

Your eyes are still shining, flitting your gaze between the two friends. “Um… yeah – that’d be great.”

All of you walk outside the theatre and towards the parking lot. Spencer is quick to open the passenger door for you and you give an awkward thank you.

Angela rolls her eyes and climbs into the back. “He’s such a doofus.” You watch Spencer walk around the hood of the car to get into the drivers side.

“A what?” you laugh.

“Just watch him – you’ll notice sooner or later.”

He climbs in and uses the seatbelt, “Watch who?”

You clear your throat, “Joey Richter. He’s another actor on StarKid Productions. He’s super talented.”

Angela snickers in the back. “What was the first thing you watched on StarKid?”

“A Very Potter Musical,” you laugh, “Way back in the day.”

“Classic,” Angela says, folding her arms and slumping into the seat. “What brought you to LA?”

You play with your fingers. “I wanted to move out of my home state. And I wanted to get more into the arts. But it’s been hard to find stable work.”

“You’re telling me. That’s the life of an actor – just jumping from one gig to another.”

“It would be the dream,” you sigh, “To do this full time. I just wish I had a little more security with it. A stable income. Not to be afraid with how I’ll afford food every month.” You awkwardly laugh as you realize you might’ve said too much. “But I’m doing all right.”

Angela agrees, “It’s hard to do well in the arts.”

“Hard to be recognized,” Spencer says. “(Y/N) already does well in the arts.”

You smile, your cheeks warm. “When is your next filming week?”

“Next week,” Angela sighs, yawning big. “Which reminds me – I gotta pick up that new pair of glasses for the office.”

“Angela is super blind and never wears her glasses during shoots,” Spencer explains. “Especially on the games channel. She’s always squinting super bad at the tv whenever we’re playing a game.”

“And I’ve been doing just fine!” Angela says loudly, “I’ve been training my eyes to see that far.”

Spencer scoffs, “Yeah, and the compilations of you squinting are growing at an exponential rate because of it.”

“Shut up!” Angela yells.

You laugh at their antics. “Are you allowed to yell at your boss like that?”

Spencer looks in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, Angela. As your superior you need to treat me with a high level of respect. I expect a full written apology and a certain amount of groveling before you’re allowed back on the Games set.” His tone was serious, but by the wide comical look in his eye, you know he’s using hyperbole as a joke.

“The heads of Smosh are actually Ian and Anthony, so don’t you even pull that superiority card!”

You keep giggling at this funnier, more outspoken Spencer. Proof that he was very comfortable with this coworker and their workplace.

It sounds nice.

~~~

Angela sits in the passenger seat now, slumped into the door and leaning her forehead against the window.

“She’s really nice.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says quietly, thoughts still lingering on you.

Angela looks over at him and smirks. “You like her so fucking much. I knew you did when you wouldn’t shut up about her at the office, but damn – seeing you with her was nearly painful.”

“What are you talking about? I’m so subtle about it.”

“So you don’t deny it!” she sits up stick straight, so fast that the seatbelt locks into place and stops her from moving anymore.

Spencer flounders, “I – what – no, that’s not what I said!”

“You totally did you little fucker! You like her so much it hurts. You like her so much your cheeks are going to burst into flames. You like her so much you can’t get a full sentence out.”

“Angela, shut the fuck up – you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

She bounces in her seat, “I’m so subtle about it. I can’t believe you. You’ve been talking about this girl for almost a year. Of course you have a crush on her!”

“Angela, I swear to god, don’t ruin this for me.”

“How would I ruin this? I want my little Spencey to have true love. You have to ask her out.”

“Yeah, genius – you’re forgetting about a teensy little detail. She has a fucking boyfriend.”

Angela freezes, sitting back. “Right.” She bites her lip, “Should have made your shot earlier.”

“And risk looking like a creep asking a girl out at a gas station? No thank you.”

“Is you considering her for the production team on Smosh an elaborate way to play the long game with her?”

“No!” Spencer grips the steering wheel, sounding like a bickering sibling. “She has real talent, and I think she deserves the position.”

Angela holds up her hands, “All right, okay.” She side eyes him with raised brows, “… but you wouldn’t be upset if she suddenly became available and you could ask her out?”

He refuses to meet Angela’s eyes. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction by answering that question.”

“You basically just answered it,” she folds her arms, “You know… I can’t promise I can keep this from Amanda. Or Shayne.”

Spencer puts his elbow against the window and holds his temple.

“Or Chanse.”

“I figured.”

Angela gave him a sympathetic smile. “For what it’s worth – I think she has a real shot. We should get her portfolio to Ian and Anthony asap.”

~~~

You’re cleaning the counters at the gas station. It’s nearing the end of your shift, almost 6am. And Spencer hadn’t visited you like he usually did. It was actually making you worried.

You had spent the last few days collecting every piece of art and experience you had to compile a portfolio. It didn’t feel like a very thick folder, but it had every ounce of hard work from the last few years.

It sits within a blue cover under the registers, waiting for Spencer to come.

“Hey!” there he comes through the door. “I’m so sorry, we had an overnight shoot, and I forgot to tell you.”

You look confused, “Spence, you didn’t have any obligation to be here. We didn’t make any plans.”

“I know, but I usually…” he looks flustered and upset. “You know, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

You smile kindly, “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

He runs a hand through his curly hair, his eyes considering you as you clean. “This early in the morning, we both look exhausted now.”

“Aw, we have matching dark circles under our eyes!” You go under the counter to grab the blue folder. “Here’s that portfolio Angela was asking about. I wasn’t sure how to get it to her, so maybe you could take it to work?”

“Um… yeah, for sure. Thanks.”

The bell above the door rings, signaling the appearance of a new customer. Usually at this point in the mornings, customers would come in for their sustenance before work. You’re focused on Spencer, unaware of the person walking towards you.

“(Y/N), let’s go.”

You turn your eyes around and see Aaron beelining for your counter.

“Oh, hey,” you say quietly, “You’re twenty minutes early.”

“And?”

This man was over six foot, broad shouldered, and unkempt. His eyes are lazy and hard pressed, his jaw tense as you contradict him.

You wring your hands, “I’m not allowed to leave until six.”

“Well, I’m here now. Let’s go.”

“That’s…” you suck in a breath. He smells like stale beer. “Let me clock out and tell my boss.” You round the counter and are quick to enter the back rooms.

Spencer stays where he is, holding the blue portfolio, and looking at Aaron with an air of disdain. It was not the first impression he was expecting when picturing your boyfriend.

“You waiting to buy something?” Aaron asks, frowning at the way Spencer’s looking at him.

“No, I was just…” he swallows. “I was just talking with (Y/N).”

Aaron squints his eyes, hands moving to his hips. “And you know her because?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“(Y/N) doesn’t have any friends.”

“Untrue, because I’m standing right here.”

Aaron flexes his jaw, “She hasn’t mentioned you before.”

“Yes, I have,” you reappear without your nametag and your purse now around your shoulder. “I’ve talked about him a couple times.” You stand beside Spencer and instantly feel the tension.

Aaron extends his hand like he wants to take yours. “If you did talk about him, I would have remembered. We’re leaving.”

You go to hold his hand, but he moves his to grab your arm, pulling you towards the door. You turn your head to mouth, “Sorry,” towards Spencer.

Spencer waves at you, his face placid and upset. He watches out the windows to see Aaron let you go on the sidewalk to get into the car yourself. He slams the car shut, neglecting his seatbelt, and squealing out of the parking lot.

Still upset, Spencer gets into his car and contemplates his next move. His instincts told him that you weren’t completely safe. He wonders if you and Aaron have moved in together yet – he was trying to pull the ‘cheaper rent’ card on that account.

It was blatantly clear that Aaron was gaslighting you. Within three minutes, he was pegged as an asshole.

Spencer pulls out his phone and sends you a text. “Nice seeing you today, hope you get some good sleep.”

He rubs hard at his face before driving off. He plans to show your portfolio to Ian and Anthony tomorrow.

~~~

You’re sitting on the couch, playing on your PlayStation, when someone knocks on the door. Enjoying the day off, you wonder what door-to-door salesman is at your house.

You open the door and a giant smile envelopes your face, “Spencer! You didn’t tell me you were going to visit.”

He take a breath, “Um… yeah, I wanted to ask you something and I couldn’t wait until you were on shift.”

You lean against the doorframe, biting your lip. “Well, I would invite you inside, but I have to warn you… it’s not very nice.”

“I don’t care,” he says matter-of-factly. “I just want to talk.”

“All right,” you say shyly, opening the door wide. You watch his reaction, already feeling embarrassment brewing in your stomach.

Spencer looks around for a second, taking in the minimal furniture and all around lackluster state of the structure. He zeros in on the old tv displaying your video game.

“Are you playing Red Dead Redemption 2?”

“Uh… yeah,” you say quietly, holding yourself and you walk into the living room. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Spencer smiles, finding it amazing to learn something new about you that he loves. “Nice horse.”

You laugh, sitting on the couch and grabbing your controller. Your cowboy character was riding a white horse in the middle of a river. “It’s the White Arabian you have to tame by Lake Isabella.”

“Is that… like the best horse or something?” Spencer comes to sit beside you, sinking into the musty couch.

“It’s the only elite Arabian horse that you can find in the wild.”

Spencer leans against the couch arm, resting his face in one hand. “I didn’t realize you were a gamer.”

“The more you know me, the more of a nerd I become.”

“Nothing wrong with that, you big nerd.”

You giggle, “What did you want to talk about?’

Spencer clears his throat. “I uh… I took your portfolio to work.”

“What did Angela think?”

“She thought it was all great. But um… a few others got a look at it too.” He shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “There’s this job opening on the production team, specifically on the Smosh main channel. But they would help with all the channels.”

You pause the game again and really look at him. “What is the position?”

“An assistant art coordinator. They help the art directors with creating sets, costumes, and character looks.”

“And what are the responsibilities?”

“They’re looking for someone to manage hair and makeup for Smosh skits and any character work on other channels. Most of the cast do it themselves, but we do need someone who specializes in prosthetics makeup. And you seem to have done that a lot in theatre. We also need someone to manage costume work – the upkeep of them.”

You swallow hard, arms slowly moving to hold yourself. “Do you know what the salary is?”

“I think it’s around 50k-60k. You’ll make between $24 - $28 an hour.”

You bite your cheek. “That’s great.” You look at your surroundings. This new job would be paying you over $10 more than you’re getting now. “Are you saying Smosh is interested in interviewing me for assistant art coordinator?”

Spencer nods his head. “That is basically what I’m saying.”

“Did you show your bosses my portfolio on purpose?” You lower your eyes but look at him through your lashes.

He takes a deep breath, stretching out on the couch. “Maybe. Maybe I thought you deserved a chance.” He looks at you seriously, “I think you’ve got some real talent, (Y/N). You should go for an interview.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll do it.”

You look at him, “I’m suddenly super nervous.” A laugh escapes you, “I… I have to talk to Aaron about it.”

“Okay,” Spencer says with an edge. He tries to be respectful. “Have you two…”

“We’ve moved in together,” you say softly. “To make bills a little easier. And… and as a trial run, I guess. I’ll be able to save up for a car now.”

Spencer has a finger on the corner of his mouth. “Do you think you could make an interview this Thursday?”

You think for a second, “I’m sure Aaron would be okay with that. I’ll just talk to him about it tonight.”

He doesn’t seem happy about that statement. But instead of saying something he might regret, he points to the PlayStation. “Have you completed this game before?”

“Oh, yeah – maybe three times,” you pick up the controller again. “This time I’m trying to complete all of the side quests before finishing the main story.”

“You should be wearing a cowboy hat while playing.”

“That would be awesome,” you laugh. You look at him with sincerity, “Thank you for looking out for me, Spence. I appreciate the chance.”

He gives a close-lipped smile. “Always.”

~~~

You step off the bus and begin to walk down the street. Using your phone, you follow the directions that Spencer gave you.

The Smosh office was right around the corner.

You enter the building, pulling on the only pair of dress pants you own. You readjust the simple blouse to show off the single diamond necklace you wear around your neck. You hope it gives you a professional first impression.

The main entrance of the building shows a little receptionist desk and plush chairs to wait in. You advance the desk while noticing behind it are many tables and folding chairs – probably for lunches.

“Hello, how are you?” a nice lady at the desk says.

You wave shakily, “I’m good. I’m here for an interview with Mr. Hecox and Mr. Padilla.”

She seems to find you saying their surnames comical judging by the little smile on her face. But she gestures to the plush armchairs behind you. “Sure, just wait there and I’ll call them.”

You turn around and notice that behind the chairs is a large window showing a large kitchen. The lunch tables and folding chairs makes more sense.

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the name plate, “Selina.” You sit down and holding your famously large fanny pack in your lap. It gives you something to hold with your fidgeting hands.

Now sitting, you can see the wide windows behind Selina’s desk. There’s a long conference table in there with a television and speakers on a stand. There’s a phone speaker in the middle of the table for any people that are being called in remotely.

Behind the conference table is a little sitting area with a couch and armchair. A couple tables and folding chairs are in the rest of the open space. It’s probably a big room for any meetings with teams or big groups of people.

“(Y/N) Bennett?” someone asks. You jump and stand to see two men coming around the corner.

One is taller with dark, wavy styled hair, a nose ring, and cool tattoos spidering up his neck. He has a great smile and just radiates a natural energy you like.

The other is slightly shorter with brown hair in a classic cut. He has a scruffy beard and black square glasses. He gives very much dad energy with how he’s dressed.

“Yes,” you say rather breathlessly. “I’m (Y/N) Bennett.”

“I’m Anthony,” the taller says, “And this is Ian.”

You shake hands with them, Ian gesturing to the conference room. “We’ll meet in here.”

The three of you walk into the room and take seats around the long table. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say quietly, “Thank you for offering me an interview.”

“For sure,” Anthony says, leaning forward in his chair. Ian sits and immediately starts spinning back and forth. “We saw your portfolio and were really impressed with your work.”

“Thank you,” you say eagerly.

Ian clears his throat, “Could you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

“Well, I’m living here with my boyfriend. I’ve lived here for about two years. Before that I was in Nevada, just outside of Vegas. My family is still there,” you say quietly. “I’ve been a theatre and fine arts student all my life. I’ve been doing community and school productions since second grade. I have experience in both stage acting and in tech behind the scenes.”

“Which do you prefer?” Anthony asks.

You hold onto your fanny pack, “Right now, probably tech. I really enjoy designing costumes and putting characters together. Sometimes I do miss acting though.”

“What do you enjoy about art design?” Ian questions.

You focus on his chair spinning back and forth. “I’m a fan of storytelling. I think one of the greatest talents a person can have is in telling a story, no matter the platform. If I can be a part of that process, I’d enjoy every second. I want to show the story in costumes, hair, and makeup. It’s the most expressive way to describe a person or character.”

“Well said,” Anthony nods. “How would you manage a set when coordinating those things?”

“I would need to see the costume closet to know how to care for it. Organization is key, ensuring you don’t lose any pieces. You’d need a costume rack on set and some essentials, like safety pins, apparel tape, a lint roller, things like that. Makeup vanities will need to be disinfected and cleaned after use, brushes clean and organized. Prosthetics and stage makeup would need to be cared for to make sure we don’t share any germs and possible infections. The same goes for any hair and wig essentials.”

Ian seems a little lost in your explanation, just impressed that you were on top of it. “You have a fine arts degree, is that right?”

You nod, voice still quiet with the nerves. “That’s right. I got a bachelor’s in fine arts at Utah Tech University in St. George, Utah.”

“Is that close to where you’re from in Nevada?” Anthony asks.

You smile, “Yeah, it’s just over an hour away. It has a well known outdoor theatre called the Tuacahn Amphitheatre. I helped with a few tech things during summer shows. And then I acted at the college.”

“What shows did you act in?” Anthony asks further.

You play with your fingers. “We did Footloose, Addams Family, The Drowsy Chaperone, Elf: The Musical, Measure for Measure, and Much Ado About Nothing.”

Anthony whistles, “You did Shakespeare?”

“I love Shakespeare,” you say. “Much Ado About Nothing is my favorite play.”

“You are a major theatre kid,” Ian says, “Why don’t you act anymore?”

You squeeze your fanny pack, “I’ve gotten a little camera shy the last couple years. I prefer helping with quick changes and fixing any mic tape mishaps.”

You take a turn asking some questions about their art department and typical filming schedule. You learn about their expectations for the job and what the salary would be. It was exactly as Spencer had said.

Ian and Anthony share a look with each other before leaning forward. Anthony looks at you kindly, “Would you mind if we conference for a minute? We want to give you an answer today.”

You widen your eyes, “Yeah, of course. Thank you.”

The pair stand and excuse themselves to discuss things outside the room. You’re left in the swivel chair, picking at your fingers and praying that the interview went well. It would be incredible to be given a job that grants you the security and stable income you wanted.

There was a chance to have friends here. Spencer and Angela would be here. You would be storytelling in little comedy sketches. You’d be a part of a team that designed characters. You’d be in charge of ensuring faces weren’t shiny on camera, hair was in place, and clothes looked good.

This could be a home for you.

It takes almost ten minutes for Ian and Anthony to return. They come back with two others that are introduced as Cassie and Erin. They are art director and assistant art director for all productions.

You would be working beneath them should you be offered the position.

More questions are asked by the newcomers, and you find them to be very kind and artistic like yourself. You agree on many fronts, having many things in common. You would be happy to be working in their department.

Ian and Anthony both have smiles on their faces when they say:

“(Y/N), we want to formally offer you the position of assistant art coordinator. Responsible for hair and makeup, and the costumes of the cast. You’ll be our main reference for any special effects makeup and prosthetics. And you’ll help coordinate for all four channels.”

Tears start to form in your eyes. “Really?”

Cassie and Erin had faces full of sympathy. Cassie was covering her face with her hands. Erin was folding their arms and smiling.

Ian was standing their awkwardly, looking at your emotional reaction, but Anthony was quicker to ask. “Is that a yes?”

You laugh tearily, “Yes! Yes, I’d love to take the position. Thank you guys so much. I’m so excited – I don’t know what to say other than thank you.”

They all clap momentarily, Ian announcing, “Then we should call everyone to the lunchroom and make introductions.”

“We’ll have Selina bring up contracts to sign,” Anthony says, gesturing to the door. “You want to follow us?”

You nod enthusiastically, shaking hands with everyone on the way out. There are lots of thank yous and congratulations.

Cassie, Erin, and Ian go to round up cast and crew to the lunch tables you spotted earlier. Anthony goes to speak with Selina at the receptionist desk.

You exit the conference room, wiping tears away and clutching your fanny pack.

Spencer was there, pacing by the plush armchairs you sat in earlier. He has his arms crossed, one hand at his mouth, tracing his lips in a nervous gesture.

At your arrival, his head whips to you, eyes wide at the tears running down your face. He looks so afraid, unsure of how the interview went. But he might’ve misinterpreted your tears.

“(Y/N),” he says softly, “What… what did they say?”

He didn’t even notice the other people gathering at the lunch tables.

You walk towards him, still trying to wipe at your face, “Spence.”

He wants to hug you desperately then. He wants to comfort you. And he wants to hurt whoever decided to make you cry.

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face there. He holds you back, still at a loss as to what the final verdict was.

“(Y/N)!” you hear Anthony, “Get over here!”

Spencer still holds you as you whisper to him, “I got the job.”

He pulls away and holds your waist, “What?”

“I got the job,” you whisper more excitedly. “They’re about to announce it to everyone.” You flounce away to stand at a counter with a few mini fridges, addressing a group of cast and crew. You notice Angela standing in the crowd.

She gives you two thumbs up and you wave back.

Spencer walks over just as Ian begins to talk.

“Hey, guys! We wanted to introduce our newest member of Smosh. This is (Y/N) Bennett!”

Anthony continues, “She will be working in the art department as an assistant art coordinator. She’ll be our head of character design and management of costumes, hair, and makeup.”

The crowd begins clapping and shouting their congratulations. Spencer joins them, standing next to Angela and a few others.

Unbeknownst to the pair of you, some cast and crew were sharing looks. People you hadn’t met yet were winking at each other. They knew full well how much Spencer wanted you to get this job.

You wave at everyone, “Hello! I’m so excited to meet you all and start working on these projects.”

Everyone breaks apart to introduce themselves.

Angela brings over a number of people, “Hey, (Y/N).” She says, “Here are some of our castmates.”

A tall woman in a beautiful jumpsuit says, “I’m Amanda, welcome to the Smosh family.”

“I’m Shayne,” a fit blonde man shakes your hand, “And this is Courtney.”

“Hi,” a blonde woman then shakes your hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Angela sticks her head in, “Those two are married.”

You nod, giggling, “Wonderful.”

“I’m Chanse,” a curly haired man says, giving you a hug, “Welcome to the team.”

A tall man with a great mustache waves, “I’m Tommy!”

“Hi!” you say, “It might take me a while to remember all your names. Thank you for being so welcoming. I’m so excited to start.”

“Spencer’s told us a lot about you,” Amanda says with a cheeky smile.

You look toward Spencer’s rosy face. “All good things, I hope.”

“Oh, definitely,” Shayne laughs, “He has nothing but praise for you.”

Spencer ignores the immediate retort that the single worst thing about you is your boyfriend. “You guys need to calm down.”

“Can we give you a tour?” Amanda asks, taking your arm, “The office has a lot of sets and rooms.”

Courtney appears on your other side, “We can show you the art department and the costumes closet!”

“And the makeup vanities,” Chanse says, already leading the way, “There are a couple by the sets, but there is one in the green room where Angela takes her naps.”

“Hey!” Angela instantly retorts, “Hey, hey, hey… uncalled for!”

Amanda scoffs, “But true.”

Angela snorts, “Yeah, sure.”

You are dragged away by Amanda and Courtney, Chanse and Angela still bickering along the way.

Spencer stays where he is with Shayne. The latter having a very knowing smirk on his face. Spencer ignores him as long as he can.

“Have you ever been told that you shouldn’t make faces because you’ll be stuck that way?”

Shayne chortles, “I’m just curious how you feel about this.”

“Clearly you already have a theory.”

“I do, based purely on the last eleven months of you pining over this girl.”

“I am incapable of pining.”

Shayne wheezes, “Yeah, sure. What do you call bringing up (Y/N) whenever possible, talking through ways to introduce yourself to her, workshopping conversations with me to get to know her…”

“All of those things were in confidence.”

“And all blatant examples of pining over a woman you’ve grown attached to!”

Spencer licks his lips, watching you being dragged by Angela towards the pods of employee desks. “I don’t… I can’t do anything about it now.”

“I’ve never seen you like this, man,” Shayne chortles. “It’s kind of throwing me off right now. You don’t talk about girls much.”

“The dating apps have been seriously lacking the last year.”

“Because you’ve been talking up some chick at the gas station,” Shayne laughs again. “I have to commend you for playing the long game.”

Spencer shakes his head, “I have to be fine with being just friends.”

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to be your best friend.

[headspace-hotel]

Things I would want to study in grad school if I had infinite energy and wasn't disabled by my disability, #2018529347248392: I was reading a paper about the role of fungal spores in human illness (esp. asthma) and noticed that the genera of fungi most commonly implicated were also some of the most common pathogens of plant crops and horticultural plants.

In my horticulture class, I am learning a lot about disease in crops, and how monoculture makes crop systems susceptible to disease. Under a monoculture based crop system, some of the most productive agricultural lands are places that receive little natural rainfall. Since moisture allows fungus and other pathogens to grow, it is cheaper to grow crops in a dry region and irrigate them artificially rather than to grow crops in a wet region where rain provides what the crops need, because in a monoculture, there is no diversity and a pathogen that is extremely infectious to one plant will be extremely infectious to every plant in the entire field, creating the worlds most explosive superspreader event.

But even beyond the monoculture crop fields, there is alarming sameness in the intentionally grown plant life of the world---nursery flowers and trees are often clonally propagated and picked out from a few species that are popular...and lawns, the lawns! vast oceans of monoculture grass!

It reminded me of another paper describing how in cities, the diversity of fungal spores is much lower than in the country.

Could plant sameness be affecting our health by affecting the variety of fungus that exists in the ecosystem?

If so...how? Could over-exposure to pathogenic fungi of plant monocultures cause allergic sensitization? Or could the absence of the other fungi associated with more complete plant ecosystems, also affect human health?

[uyuforu]

Part of Fortune in Solar Return Chart Houses

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⭑.ᐟ Part of Fortune in the Solar Return Chart represent our luckiest event of the year, where we will be the most lucky, where will we have the most abundances, and where the happiest event of the year will take place, etc.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 1H

POF in this house could be about having a luck when it comes to your appearance this year. You could have a glow up, feel more confident about your appearance this year. You could either feel more good looking, feel like you do your make up better, or you can learn new skills about how you do your appearance, how your present yourself. You could also perhaps have the sensation you are more attractive to others this year. This could also be related to face, hair, body, outfits, etc. You could also draw more attention to yourself, people can stare at you more this year, and you can also have a feeling you are more popular.

⭑.ᐟ The year I had this placement, I got a glow up physically, used better make up products, my hair got more beautiful, and I knew how to present myself in a more feminine way. And it wasn't truly one of my goal, it just happened naturally. I also got more attention physically, meaning that I was often found more attractive physically.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 2H

POF in the 2H can make one have more luck this year with money. You could feel like you handle money in a better way this year, but you can also have more opportunities to make more money. This can be a year where you feel like you ar happy with your money situation, you could also have more luck so that means if you struggle this year, you could have an easy time to come up with a solution. You can feel more stable when it comes to money as well, but also feel more stable in general in your life. This can be a good year to gain money as well, in a sense that you can get a raise, you can also get money more easily. You attract abundance this year.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 3H

POF in the 3H is a sign of having more social interactions this year, perhaps meeting more people. It can also be you being more popular in general, such as having often people texting you, writing you, call you, etc. You could spent a lot of time on social medias, and perhaps get more attention online, it can also be you having people interact with your contents more. You could feel like you are more extrovert this year, talking to a lot of people online, and you can also feel like you can learn more languages or informations this year. You can meet more people online, but so you can learn more knowledges as well.

⭑.ᐟ The year is had this placement, I had a little more popularity online, at least I noticed this is the year I got more attention online for me, like not for a specific content. I also got a very flourishing social life.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 4H

POF in the 4H could mean you could have more luck when it comes to your house, and home. This could be a year where you can move in in a place you really like, but also a time where you can feel like things are more peaceful at home as well. You could feel better in your home, perhaps stay home more often because it becomes a strong safe place to you. You can also invite more people in your home this year. You could have better relationships with your family, and perhaps your mother as well. You can also have more luck if you are searching for a new home or if you want to get pregnant. This can be a good year also to stay at home, but also you could enjoy loneliness more as well.

⭑.ᐟ The year I had this placement, I reconnected with my dad after 3-4 years of not speaking, I also had a very good relationship with him afterwards, and I also got a good relationship with my mother. I moved out of my house for the first time.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 5H

POF in the 5H could be about having a better luck this particular year when it comes to friends, you can feel like you are more extroverted, and get more attentions. You can also feel more popular and seen tis year. This can be also a time where you feel like you have more flirts, more romantic interactions. You can go on many dates, have many suitors. You can also feel more creative as well, perhaps you can have any great ideas in general, you can start projects based on those ideas, but if you already are in a creative field, this is a, excellent year for that. You can also have more hobbies, or feeling like you should dive deep into those. You could also be feeling more optimistic this year, have more fun, have more opportunities to go out and be happy.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 6H

POF in the 6H can be a sign where you have more work opportunities, perhaps you can find a new job, or another job, you can also work better, be more productive. You can also have more rewards when it comes to your job, how you work, and you can be noticed for your hard work. You can get a raise, get a promotion, you can also get new opportunities when it comes to your career in general. This placement can also suggest you can also have better care when it comes to your health. This can go from the physical health, having an excellent health, wanting to work out more, etc. To also having a better mental health. You could also go to therapy, and decide to improve your day to day routine as well. This can be a good year to also adopt a pet if you desire it. You can also decide to do a lot of self care this year.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 7H

POF in the 7H can be a sign of entering in a relationship if you are single, you could meet someone you have a good connection with. Though POF is about luck and good things, so often you can meet potential partners you feel like are doing you good. But it doesn't necessarily means you'll be with them, or you will be into a relationship. This can also be a sign of having a better relationship with your current partner, creating happy and good memories together. But also this could totally be more about you learning valuable lessons about relationships and connections. You can realize some things about your relationships and how you are into them, and you can decide to work on those patterns. This is a good time to work on better outcomes when it comes to relationships. Many people could want to date you or be with you, but this is a good year to choose carefully, and sometimes just choose yourself.

⭑.ᐟ The year I got this placement, I went out of a toxic relationship and I learned a lot of lessons when it comes to relationships. I had a lot of men wanting to get with me, but I was more trying to heal some traumas and toxic patterns I had. I also met someone who helped me heal and it felt like a soulmate connection to me, we were very much alike. A strong connection.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 8H

POF in the 8H can mean you can have a year where you are blessed with money. Perhaps you can have more money when it comes to others, money can also come unexpectedly. This can be a year where people can buy you things, give you things, you can win money as well perhaps. You can also get more into spirituality, or esotericism. Perhaps you can develop your intuition and psychic abilities, you can also feel like it's easier for you to know lies and the truth. You can perhaps also have a better time to figure things out. This can also be a good year for self work, going to therapy, perhaps also working on yourself, doing shadow work, mental health matters. You can feel like you have many opportunities to work on yourself and work on your inner health. Wanting to heal.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 9H

POF in the 9H can be a sign of having strong opportunities to learn more this year. This can manifest in you entering college, or getting a course, or wanting to learn more school wise. You can be very much into studying, and learning, perhaps having a thirst for knowledge. You can also want to learn more in life in general, so perhaps just learning more on your hobbies, etc. You can also want to develop your skills for your job as well. Moreover, this could also mean you can develop your religious or spiritual skills, meaning you can have a better understanding and get to learn some deep lessons. You could also want to learn Astrology, or learn more tools about it. You can also travel or have more travel opportunities.

⭑.ᐟ The year I got that placement, I traveled, and I also learned strong spiritual lessons. I also learned soooo much when it comes to Astrology, life in general, but I developed my spiritual and esoteric side as well.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 10H

POF in the 10H can be a sign of having more opportunities in a work or a job, in your career in general. This can be great to have more job opportunities, change your work, change your career field, etc. You can also have a better reputation at work, you can get a promotion, better pay check, you can also be seen at work and recognized for your good job. So this can indicate you can also be happy in your work this year, perhaps thinking it's a good time to evolve in your career. Thought, this can also be about you being more popular and seen in general, such as getting noticed. You can feel like people stare at you more this year, and you can also have a feeling you are more popular and known. You can also have a good opportunity to change your reputation, change your status in how society sees you, so an example could be getting visa for example.

⭑.ᐟ The year I had this placement, I didn't have a job, but I got a specific visa to travel and live in a foreign country than mine. My identity changed in a way since I was seen as a foreigner there. I also had a reputation where I lived, I learned I was known weirdly. I also got more popular in a way. I was seen for sure.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 11H

POF in the 11H can mean you can have more success this year into making friends. You can feel like you can meet better people, important connections, this could also be a year where you can have an easier time to connect with others. You can also better your current connections and friendships. You can be more extroverted that year, but also, you can be wanting to connect with people. This can be a very easy time for you to connect to any kind of people in fact, you can befriend literally anyone this year. You can also spend a lot of time online, perhaps also meeting people online, having long distance friendships too. You can also have more views and popularity online if you create content, but this can also be a year where you want to create and post more contents as well.

⭑.ᐟ The year I had this placement, I made new friends, met so many people mostly at work, and I also spent a lot of time online, talking to people, to my friends, etc. This is the year I did some vlogging, and I also started a YouTube channel.

⋆˙⟡ Part of Fortune in 12H

POF in the 12H can mean that you can have a better time being on your own. You can perhaps experience more solitude, but enjoying it. You can also have a better relationship with yourself, and perhaps work on yourself, such as doing mental health, shadow work, etc. You can also develop your spirituality this year, or religious matters. You can learn a lot in being on your own, perhaps being more independent, or reflecting a lot on your past, and you can see the benefits of it. This can also be a year where you can travel, but also where you can feel you have a better sleep quality. Perhaps also having more good dreams.

Thank you for Reading!

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