#it is someone else's art that i have Changed into something else

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Fault Lines Ch. 2

request: wanted to know if you could write something where the reader is a ex-winter solider (just like bucky, but maybe she doesn't lose her arm) and how she struggles to accept Joaquin. An overall angst to fluff.

pairing: joaquin torres x ex-super soldier!f!reader

contents: canon typical violence, illusions to abuse and torture, ptsd and other mental illness, enemies to lovers, angst

wc: 1,383

an: this series is based off of this request here! this is definitely a slow burn/fluff if you squint type beat so just bear with me <3

fault lines masterlist

The safe house is quiet, save for the low hum of the overhead light and the occasional rustle of movement from Joaquin as he leans against the wall opposite of you. He knows better than to box you in—that’d only make you more restless than you already are.

Post-meal and shower, you sit on his cot, arms crossed, gaze fixed somewhere past him like you’re already planning your exit. The space smells of antiseptic and metal despite the warm paint and comforting art. Someone had tried to make this as home-y as they could and failed.  

He doesn’t doubt that you are.  And you are. You’re on edge, always hypervigilant for the worst. That the two men in front of you that promise to stand on decency and honor are liars just like everyone else you’ve ever encountered. 

There’s only one door and a few windows, but you had immediately noticed the door under the rug in the bathroom. Its doable.

Sam’s outside, making calls, searching for loopholes to clean up the mess you’ve already made. That leaves Joaquin with what he does best—talking. But tonight, that skill is failing him.

Something about you is making the words sticky in his throat, unable to flow as usual. He doesn’t know what to say to you to make you understand, to make you change. Though he’s not really sure that’s his goal given what you’ve suffered.

“You look like you wanna be anywhere but here,” he observes, arms mirroring yours.

“What a shocking observation, baby bird,” you mutter, voice steeped in sarcasm.

Joaquin exhales through his nose, tilting his head. “Ok, ouch. But let’s be real—you could’ve run already. Hell, you could’ve fought harder. So why are you still here?”

Your fingers curl in your lap, like the truth will slink into your hands if you don’t force it out; it isn’t something you're ready to touch. You flex them once before stilling. “Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I trust you,” you say eventually, voice quieter, more measured.

“Fair.” Joaquin watches you, gaze steady. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you unless he has too– he chalks it up to your dangerous capabilities and nothing more. “No one’s asking you to, querida. But you want something. You can tell me what that is, I won’t use it against you.”

Something stirs at his pet name, something you thought was dead and rotted. Its easy to shove it back down in the wake of what you see is a lie. He would use it against you, that’s what everyone does. If he didn’t then Sam would. You know the game. 

You let out a breath, eyes meeting his. “You’re after Hydra and so am I. But I don’t trust that you’ll actually do what needs to be done. In fact, I know you won’t.”

Joaquin frowns. He knows what you mean but asks anyway, “And what’s that?”

“You tell me,” you challenge. “You really think you’re gonna dismantle them by playing by the rules? By arresting a few low-level pricks and calling it a day? Hydra isn’t just an organization—it’s a disease. One that’s smart enough to outmaneuver every cure. You cut off a limb, and another grows back.” Your voice lowers, darkens. “I go for the heart.”

Joaquin studies you. The shadowy certainty in your tone. The way your hands have curled into fists, nails pinching into your skin before you even realize it. He should be alarmed, maybe even afraid of you and what you can do with those hands. But mostly? He just feels tired for you and all the baggage you have to carry. He wishes there were more he could do more for you, but he knows the oath he’s taken. His values, his morals—they won’t be compromised.

“I get it,” he says, voice softer now. “You think we’re a waste of time. That we’re too soft.”

“You are,” you say, like it’s obvious and with no remorse. “Your Captain? He’s trying to lead a world that doesn’t even know what to do with itself. One that hardly wants him. He’s gotta play politics. Me? I don’t have to play anything. I owe nothing to no one but myself.”

Joaquin shakes his head. “That’s not a life. That’s a war you never get to leave. That darkness won’t let you go.”

Your jaw tightens, and you look away. You don’t deny it.

For the first time since bringing you in, Joaquin feels like he has something solid to work with. You know that your past is controlling you but you won’t let it go. With their help, you could finally be free. He lets you sit with his words, grabbing a water from the mini-fridge before settling across from you on Sam’s bunk.

Silently, he offers it. Begrudgingly, you take it, careful not to touch him.

“Look, I know what it’s like to be made into something you didn’t ask for,” he says. “To be trained to survive, not to live. And I know that once you start thinking like that, it’s almost impossible to stop.”

Your fingers tighten around the bottle, the plastic nearly giving out under the pressure. The sound brings you back to the present and you loosen your grip letting the bottle fall to the ground. Joaquin says nothing, letting you be.  When your eyes meet again, he can see that you recognize that. That you believe him when he says that he understands. You let it fade away as quickly as it appeared.

Joaquin presses forward anyway. “You don’t trust us? Fine. But what if we can help? What if we can end this without you burning yourself out trying to do it alone?”

You shake your head. “God, baby bird, you don’t fucking get it.”

“Then make me fucking get it,” Joaquin challenges, matching your energy. He hopes that in doing so you'll level with him.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The space between you is heavy with something unspoken, pressing down on your chest. Your breath is too sharp, and his is too shallow, like being stuck in each other's gaze has sucked all the air out of the room before either of you could even think. You exhale sharply, pulling back, re-centering yourself just as another presence fills the doorway.

"There's a name," you mutter, almost reluctant. "One of the last remaining heads of Hydra. He’s been running a black ops division off-grid. And if you think what was done to your precious boy was bad, what they’re doing is worse."

Joaquin barely has time to process before your gaze flicks past him, landing on Sam, now standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

The two men exchange a look. “How do we know you’re not leading us into a trap?” Sam asks.

You scoff. “I’m not like them and you thinking I would walk you into a trap is like them. If you don’t believe me, I can happily do this on my own. And I wouldn’t have either of you slowing me down.”

Sam meets Joaquin’s gaze again; its pleading, laced with the idea of giving you a chance. A long beat of silent communication passes between them.

Sam rolls his eyes, exhaling reluctantly. He knows what its like to be an advocate, the one who’s seeing more than others. He’ll let Joaquin take his chance on you. “You’re lucky he likes you,” he mutters, jerking his chin toward Joaquin before turning back toward the door. “We’re wheels up in an hour. Try not to make me regret this.”

Joaquin looks back at you, and you could swear that you see some warmth in his cheeks. “That makes two of us.” He barely catches it—the slight quirk at the corner of your mouth. It’s smug, not quite a smirk, but it’s something. An attempt at humor. He softens again, seeing the effects of what Hydra put you through.

What had they done to you where you can’t even smile? Laugh? See yourself as more than just their pawn? The thought makes him sad, yes, but it also makes him angry. You deserve better than that.

“Three of us.” You shake your head, pushing to your feet. You’re tired of being cooped up. “Guess we’ll see.”

let me know if you'd like to be on the sfw joaquin torres taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes , @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9, @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath1998, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @jaebugzz, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69, @moonymeloncholymoney, @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967

> ch. 3

[triassictriserratops]

AI could have been propelled as a way revolutionize the way we work and spend our time. We could have used it as a tool to make our lives and tasks easier and carve out more time for exploration, creativity, enrichment, social change.

It is NO ACCIDENT that they have, instead, used it to replace the arts. They want to deprive us of innovation and fulfillment.

Innovation challenges their monopolies. If they control the source, they never have to compete with new ideas.

Creation threatens their control. If we can invent or solve problems ourselves - we won't look for a plastic device on 2-day delivery to solve our problem. We can look to each other and to ourselves instead. They HATE that.

Fulfillment and enrichment threatens their financial control. If we have more time with friends and family and build strong communities and resource sharing with each other, we won't be as reliant on the meager paychecks they offer us. We won't have to settle for the hand to mouth lives they give us.

They WANT to take color from us. They WANT to take art from us. THEY want us tired and broken and unable to tell stories or share ideas through art, and music, and books.

We CANT let them.

SUPPORT ALL ARTISTS.

Do you need something designed? Commission an artist! Do you want something for your home? Go to an indie art crawl! Support digitally, support physically, SHARE your favorite artists so other people can see them!

USE LIBRARIES. GO TO YARD SALES. GO TO THRIFT STORES.

Collect physical media where you can. Protect it like it's gold, because it IS. Share it with people near you. Invite friends for a movie night and pop in a DVD. Lend someone a book that makes you think of them. Collect and save educational materials and how-to's.

FIND MUSIC THAT MAKES YOU FEEL SOMETHING.

Share your favorite small band with a friend. Go to a shitty local open mic and find someone new. Go to a concert in the park. Learn a new instrument. Be bad at it. Play it anyways.

READ POETRY.

Listen to the pieces of humanity that people left for us to find. What do they tell you about other people? What do they tell you about yourself?

Write poetry. Write BAD poetry because you're HUMAN and you GET to be bad and being bad means it's FUCKING real. And because nobody else will ever see the world exactly like you.

WATCH ANIMATION

Realize that EVERY pixel and EVERY cell was created by someone who wanted to share a piece of their soul with you. THE CURTAINS ARENT JUST BLUE IF A HUMAN CHOSE THE COLOR BLUE.

COMMENT AND REBLOG. DONT LET ART DIE IN THE LIKES.

"I'm not an artist" I PROMISE YOU, YOU ARE.

Art is a VERB. it is what humans SHARE with each other. It is how we love each other. How we hate each other. How we connect with each other. How we build together.

Art is what we are to each other.

DONT LET THEM TAKE YOU OUT OF ART.

[ravenwolfie97]

i don't want to fully give away my game as i'm editing this but

look at these beautiful boys

[cheriboms]

spirit boys 🤝 hats

[seaquestions]

blake lets him keep it. this is a dire lapse in judgement on his part but they're just gonna have to live with it. (ids in alts)

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

ARTIST N WRITERS N CREATORS OF ALL KINDS!! c'mere. I gotta say something. n I'm gonna hold ur hand tenderly when I say this. post. it. anyways. be proud of it. anyways. post ur 'shitty' art!!! upload fics that didn't turn out the way u thought they would!! glow with pride at the works u started but didn't finish bc at least u STARTED!! it is TWENTY TWENTY FIVE!!! WERE GIVING OURSELVES GRACE!!! if u create art of any kind. if u write or draw or sketch in the corners of your math homework. if nothing makes it out of the notes. if it's incomprehensible. be KIND to urself. n know that I love it. doesn't matter what it is. I love it. n I'm proud of u for creating. n doing ur best. n I rlly hope u are too <3

[toruq]

i apologise for my extended absence... especially from art; i have been experiencing quite the (lengthy) artist's block. once i find my digital tools i hope to resume comics and other pieces

may this also serve as a reminder that if you wish to look at any of my pieces, my portfolio is organized under my '#my art' tag, or 'drawings' on my blog for desktop users (:

[impostorsshow]

I'm actually so obsessed with him it's not even funny if i'm not listening to a TikTok or music directly related to him I can't focus free me free me

This is @/cherubpuppet's OC for a object show [au? pitch? wip show? How do I categorize this] and I've been destroyed by the fact that ruler art is infinitely superior [and 10x longer] and i don't have a good enough grasp on lip gloss's personality to make fanfiction so I am frozen in "want make fanart but fanart takes effort :["

[arttsuka]

hey ho I just noticed that amongst many of your posts you have some pretty nasty things to say about yourself! As a concerned follower I am here to tell you that does you no good whatsoever, and have expierenced where it can lead you to! (Even when said in jest)

As an outside observer I have determined that exactly 0 of your negative statements are true, so don't believe the lies you tell yourself! Change statements like "my art sucks" to "my art is pretty neat!" (Because it is) "....just kill me" to ".... just give me shrimp" (or fav food/object) "I feel awful and lonely" to " I see the sun rise and its beautiful, I feel nice." And "I have more friends than i realise" ( notice something beautiful or do things you like and appreciate them, you'll start to feel better I promise!

Take a moment to slow down and just breathe and observe all the good things around you (go outside if you have to)

Heres a book that talks about changing your inner monologue for the better, "What to say when you talk to yourself" by Shad Helmstetter its definitely worth a read

I love you and sending a crushing bear hug to you! 🫂🫂💙💙💙

Unfortunately yes I have many bad things to say about myself (I am my biggest hater).

I've been around some pretty toxic people in the past (and present, most of them are my relatives, yikes) and I guess it's just easier to say negative things about me rather than hear them say things (behind my back).

I try to do better but when you don't fit into society the way other people do, it's kinda disheartening, makes me wanna give up.

Sometimes I wish I was like everyone else honestly, or have some confidence.

I'll definitely try to check out that book, thanks for the recommendation :)

Many hugs to you too anon 🫂🫂

[jellicle-chants]

Guess what I just found in my drafts that I meant to publish like... a year ago 🥴🙃🥲 Anyway, have some details about my CATS Speakeasy AU! I'm really hoping to get back around to this in more detail sometime soonish, so better to study up now...

Munk is the adopted son of Old Deut, who raised many such foundlings and in general created a safe place for anyone who didn't have one. In the narrative of the AU, he's trying to solve one of Macavity's plots (probably some kind of kidnapping situation). He also takes care of Jemima, who was left on his doorstep in an echo of his own origin. Plato tags along as his apprentice, although he's not often helpful with his two younger brothers, Tumblebrutus and Pouncival, getting in his way.

The titular speakeasy, The Smitten Kitten, is co-run by Deme and Bomba, as a way to get back on their feet after escaping from Macavity (along with Alonzo, who plays piano). Tugger is also here, doing miscellaneous jobs and generally being an obnoxious flirt. Romances are undefined as of now but definitely happen.

Bustopher Jones is a British expat who moved to the US with his housekeeper (and requited crush) Jennyanydots, in a misguided attempt to straighten out his godchildren/wards, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. It does not go well, especially when Munk needs to call on the twins' troublemaking abilities to infiltrate Macavity's lair.

Some other things I've worked out, but haven't managed to integrate into the main plot yet:

Jellylorum and Asparagus (Gus Jr) run a struggling off-Broadway theatre started by their father. In between shows, they rent out the stage to Cassandra and Misto, who alternate their acts, and a spare dressing room to Coricopat and Tantomile. The twins, Cass, and Misto all met in the circus, but split off because of mistreatment and nonpayment. Victoria joined Misto's act after failing to find work as a ballet dancer elsewhere, and the two now brand themselves as siblings. The group don't mean to take advantage of the siblings, but attendance is inconsistent, to say the least. Of course, Jelly and Gus Jr would never kick them out — they know their father would loathe to see the building closed even temporarily.

Skimbleshanks is a trolley driver. (I know this entry is comically short compared to the last one, but I imagine he'd just pop up occasionally throughout the story. Sometimes simpler is better.)

I really want to fit Algernonny (my OC) in here somewhere, but I haven't settled on anything yet. Maybe he drives a bookmobile??

Olivetti (my other OC) is a bit easier to place, since he'd be a reporter, but I'm not sure what effect he'd have on the story at large.

Some relationships (familial, platonic, and romantic) I want to emphasize:

None of Munk/Tugger/Mac are related, nor are any of them directly related to Old Deut. In my eyes, Macavity has always worked better as an entity lurking in the shadows than someone who is well-known and emotionally tied to the other characters.

Re: the Smitten Kitten bunch, I haven't untangled who I want them and Munk to end up with (or maybe they just all end up together?). There will definitely be some one-sided Platugger flirting because I can. (Algie/Alonzo is also a done deal, but that doesn't mean Alonzo doesn't get to participate here too.)

I haven't decided whether I go the Victeazer or Tantoteazer route yet. I'm leaning towards Mistojerrie though as a new thing for me.

Asparagus and Skimbleshanks will end up being a thing, because I can't get enough of them two <3

I haven't decided if I want Jenny to be Plato (etc.)'s mom. It would be easier to tie that household into the main goings-on that way, but also (if you couldn't tell) I'm trying to improvise on a lot of these characters and come up with new relations -- at least for the ones for whom I don't already have a ship I'm attached to.\

[tiabwwtws-art]

Rewatched a bit, read a bit...missed them.

[risingsunresistance]

twitter is entering their "rts > likes" phase now that likes are private after they spent years calling us ungrateful for being demotivated by ratios lmao

[the-insanity-of-mojiru]

What do you mean this audio is 6 years old, I just heard it yesterday--

[deus-ex-mona]

we are united in a common cause on this ✨#blessed✨ day

[mildcicada]

[comvi]

I always have to remind myself that I don’t need to push myself to make art, and I don’t need to apologize or feel bad for not making a lot of art. art is something that should make me feel happy, so if I’m pushing myself to the point of not enjoying it anymore, then I should just stop and calm down for a second. and take some time for myself. Art won���t disappear, it will always be there waiting for me again, its okay for me to take some time doing others things sometimes.