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satellite-evans · 2 years

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Sunshine

Pairing: Chris Evans x therapist!reader

Summary: When Chris sought to find help, he found you.

Word count: it's a short one, sorry :(

Warnings: Fluff, Chris going to therapy and being an idiot in love, a little angst in the beginning. Let me know If I forgot something <3

A/N: Happy reading! I kinda had second thoughts about this one :(

English is not my first language, So I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback and requests are always welcome. Love you all <3

Chris's life sounded chaotic and messy for individuals who didn't live in it. Being Captain America had responsibilities, not to forget the amazing charm Chris holds against the world. Every girl dreamed of being with him and living in the same world as he did. Every woman's dream was to go to events, clubbing together, and award show after award show. The truth was nothing like that.

Chris was a normal guy from Boston who got lucky with getting a part in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Unfortunately for him, the happiness that this role brought him, came not alone. It came with anxiety, too. Hearing every click of a camera pointed toward him was difficult for him. Chris hated that he even heard those clicks late at night in his bedroom. When everyone was sleeping. It was like his own brain was against him, replaying those sounds over and over until Chris couldn't help but get up and go for a run.

He knew he needed therapy. Hell, even his own friends and family recommended him. Seeing Chris miserable was painful for his mother. The fire that was in her son burning for acting was gently dying. She needed to do something; she needed to find help for her son before it was too late.

Lisa found a therapist that changed his son's life forever. You.

Chris was not so eager to go to a therapist, but he trusted his mother's judgment and went to you. Not for himself, but for the people he loved.

When he entered your office, something happened.

He still can't explain to his day what he felt when he saw you for the first time. His vocabulary is not big enough, he says. Something inside him made Chris feel dizzy, like he was about to throw up. He didn't like the feeling, but he took everything that came from you happily.

You.

There was something about you that made Chris want to learn about you. He wanted you to talk about your life and solve any problem you had like he was your therapist. When he sat down, he knew one thing was for sure. He was going to ask you out.

After talking for 2 hours, it felt like the heavy bricks that were crushing him down were crumbling away, and he could finally take a deep breath without shaking. It felt easy explaining his issues to you.

Your eyes were deep brown, but Chris swore he saw a wonderful blue sky in them. He never felt so drawn to a person, and he only knew you for two hours. But if spending two hours with you was like this, he couldn't imagine what a life with you would feel like.

After the therapy session, you told him you loved to see him next week again. Chris instantly agreed, loving that he would see you next week, too.

Every week that he came, he fell more in love with you. You learned more about him, and he learned more things about you, too. How your office was full of flowers, especially lilies, for instance. Or how the two dimples next to your mouth were only seen if you smiled. That you had a tattoo of a butterfly on your wrist. Every single detail that Chris had seen was written on his memory with a pen that couldn't be erased. He never talked about you to his family. Because he knew, if he started talking about you, his smile that would show up and the way his eyes would shine would tell them the truth. So when Lisa asked how therapy was, he would simply answer with 'good.'

But his mother didn't buy it. She knew that something was up and that it had to do something about you. She saw Chris change. He wasn't quiet as he used to be. Her son, that was slowly slipping away from her fingers, was now blossoming like a flower in the spring. She knew that her flower of a son found his sunshine. And she couldn't be happier about it.

He did it. He didn't know why he did it just when the session ended, but he did it. He asked you out. The clicks of a camera that were making a noise in his brain were so far for him to hear, thanks to you. But because of you, he could hear the fight that was going on between his heart and brain right now. His heartbeat was going faster, waiting for you to say yes, while his brain was giving him a headache about all the overthinking he was doing. That you were going to say no, that Chris embarrassed himself, and that he looked dumb right now. Yup, his brain loved him.

"Chris, I really don't know what to say. I'm flattered, really. I think you are an amazing person with a soul that is so kind. But I can't date you, you're my patient. And I'm not willing to risk my career because of my feelings."

He should be hurt by what you said, but he wasn't. In fact, he fell more in love with you. This just showed how strong of a woman you were and that you knew your priorities. But he wouldn't let you go that easily. Chris would do everything just to spend time with you.

"What if I go to another therapist? Y/N, you helped me grow so much as a person. You fixed my fragile heart and I haven't been more confident in my body. Please, just give me a chance. I'm sure you have so some great therapist friends you can recommend to me. I want to spend time with you, Y/N. Please, let me."

You let him. After recommending your therapist friend Farah to him, he took you out on a date and got to know you outside of work, too.

You were a big Disney fan. Your favorite movie was the princess and the frog, seeing yourself in her since you always had to work hard to get your job, too. What made Chris shocked to hear was that you never went to Disneyland.

"I'm sorry, what? You are a Disney fan, but you never went to Disneyland? How is that even possible?"

The two of you were enjoying some pasta in Chris' favorite restaurant. He knew that he had to take you there on the first date. it brought him many happy memories of seeing this place and now he added one more, his first date with you.

"Hey, don't laugh at me, okay? My parents had little money growing up, so we never went. And now, I don't know, It's just weird going alone to Disneyland. Don't you think?"

He frowned at your question. Why would you go alone?

"Well, you don't have to go alone. Take your family with you. I always go with my whole family. My sisters, brother, cousins, everyone. You can do the same."

You laughed at his comment, thinking about how your family would hate that idea.

"I don't think so. My mom and dad aren't Disney fans just like I am. Plus, they would say that I spend my money on unnecessary stuff and that I don't know the value of money. I don't need to hear another entire speech about life and money just because I wanted to go to Disneyland. I got to hear that tons of times growing up that I know nothing."

He saw you became serious and tense. Talking about your parents was a hard topic for you, and he sensed that instantly. Chris wanted to comfort you and tell you that your parents were missing out, but it wasn't the place or the time.

"I'm so sorry. This is our first date, and I am already talking about my issues. As a therapist, you always listen to the problems of other people. Nobody listens to yours."

Chris felt a sting in his heart. You doubtless had so many things to tell, but nobody wanted to listen to you. If you only knew that he would listen to you forever.

"Don't worry sweetheart" he said, taking your hand as his. " I would love to listen to your voice all day, every day."

You smiled at him, with glistering eyes telling him that this was the sweetest thing someone ever said to you, without words. Chris understood. He could read your eyes so well and smile back.

He promised himself that day he would do everything in his power to make you feel safe to share your problems with him. And further to take you to Disneyland, but as a family.

It's safe to say that he kept his promise.

(part 2 anyone?)

#chris evans imagine #chris evans #cevans #fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans fic #chris evans x therapist!reader #chris evans fandom

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

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—bad luck buddies

SUMMARY | sometime in between filling in for carver and completing your mission with ladybug, the two of you manage to have a few laughs

PAIRING | ladybug x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNINGS | strictly platonic, spoilers for bullet train, hit men, guns, mentions of murder, etc

WORD COUNT | 600+ words

AUTHORS NOTE | very goofy man. funny too. a short little one shot this time though sorry. wasn't having a good night tonight and just wanted to get this done

🐞 Masterlist 🐞 Navigation 🐞 Rules 🐞

"Are you sure I can't get you to give up the number for Barry?"

A gruff voice chuckled next to you as you both through foot traffic, hair bristling in the wind.

"Sorry (Y/n). Gotta keep him all to myself. I can recommend another therapist, though."

Laughter.

"Are you two done talking yet, or should I wait untill you've finished to give you the mission details."

A smile blossomed on your face as the earpiece nestled snugly in your ear buzzed with the sound of Maria's voice. You spared a quick glance at the man next to you, his own expression riddled with amusement—the twinkle in his eyes a dead giveaway.

"Sorry Maria." You grinned. "But Ladybugs' new mindset has me rethinking some of the ways I do my job."

"See! That's exactly what Barry was talking to me about. Put a positive mood out into the world, and it comes back to you." Ladybug snapped his fingers with a triumphant smile, much to the chagrin of Maria. Who by now had sighed in your ear more times than you could count on both hands.

"Please don't tell me you two left the guns in the locker."

You could practically see her pinching the bridge of her nose right now—smudging that weird eyeliner she always insisted on applying. Probably regretting letting the two of you fill in for Carver; that bastard. It was bad enough that separately the two of you barely scraped by on missions. But together? Even you had to admit that the universe seemed to push against your every move. Hence the whole therapist talk. It was high time you tried professional help. At least that's what your targets told you right before you stabbed them in the neck.

"Hey don't sweat it boss man. Er—lady." You readjusted your coat, briefly stopping to apologize to the few pedestrians you would bump into. Didn't expect train stations to be so busy at this time of day. "You said this would be a breeze right? So no guns, no problem."

A beat of silence.

"Your lack of response tells me that you either see the brilliance of the situation or hate us right now." Ladybug scratched at his scruff, nearly knocking his ridiculously chunky glasses astray meanwhile.

"I'm thinking the second one." Maria deadpanned. All she got in response was a cheeky grin from you and Ladybug.

Quick work was made of hopping on the bullet train as you both continued your banter, footsteps falling in sync as you padded up and down the carpeted iles.

"Now you're looking for a breifcase—"

"Could you be a bit more specific?"

"Let me finish (Y/n). You're looking for a silver breifcase with a train sticker on the handle."

"That's not at all ironic." Ladybug cracked a joke, lightly setting his arm on your shoulder to prevent you from toppling on him as the train began to move with a hiss. To which you sent him a goofy salute.

"Fuck it's cold in here. You couldn't have picked a warmer train to stash this case?" You complained, half to Maria and half to Ladybug. Both rolled their eyes, albeit one more playfully than the other. A few nearby passengers didn't seem to take as kindly to your loud complaints though, tossing a nasty look or two.

"Well sorry if the twenty million in cash didn't ask before picking a route out of Tokyo. Did you want to ask the current handlers about a change in plans?"

"Nope." You popped the p while continuing to meander after Ladybug. "I'd rather snatch it from under their noses thank you very much."

Ladybug turned around momentarily to join in on the conversation, clearly buzzed about the promise of a short and easy trip.

"After all." He grinned. "How difficult could this job be?"

#ladybug x you #ladybug x y/n #ladybug x reader #ladybug #ladybug bullet train #ladybug fanfiction #bullet train #bullet train x reader #bullet train x y/n #bullet train x you #bullet train fanfic #fanfic #x reader #one shot #fluff #platonic

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goodnitedrdead · 1 year

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winter falls

Colonel Carrillo x Reader

Summary: winter blows again, and time has flown by. Colonel Carrillo never thought he'd be fearing the solitude that came with the season. Just as he thought he was about to fall apart, you rush in to keep him together. To help scare away the tormenting thoughts that were haunting him, you decided to take him out for a walk surrounded by the bright Christmas lights that adorned the local plaza.

Word Count: 5.8k (not bad for a girl with no talent)

Warnings: Carrillo lives. Slight/mild PTSD from the night Escobar shot him. Talks about divorce. Intrusive thoughts. Lonely holiday time. Talks about religion. Emotional infidelity, I guess? Lots of feelings. Fluff. Angst with an... okay ending?

Author's Note: don't let the kpop icon scare you, ok? pls be kind to me this is the second fic I've ever written, I'd really appreciate the feedback. ALSO, I am absolutely in love with the colonel. Inspiration for this came from the song Winter Falls by Stray Kids. I recommend looking up the lyric translation because I tried to include them through the fic, but it's not required. THANK YOU FOR READING!!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME. MWAH TO ALL THOSE WHO WILL READ THIS <3 also, i cross posted this on ao3 in case y'all would like to follow me there, I know sometimes Tumblr tends to be... mean.

IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS FOR THE COLONEL PLS SEND THEM MY WAY.

Colonel Carrillo didn’t fear many things. Hell, he didn’t even fear death itself. But recently, as the nights got longer and the temperatures started to drop, he started to know fear. The thing that embarrassed him the most was that it was an intangible fear. It wasn’t the bullets that flew left and right past him as he was in the streets of Colombia. It wasn’t the sicarios that etched the notorious Colonel’s name in their minds, hiding in the shadows waiting to pounce and take his life. It wasn’t the blood, nor the warzone he lived in day in and day out. No, it wasn’t any of that. Horacio Carrillo was afraid of desolation.

He thought he’d have more time to get used to it. As he awoke one day from being in a coma for who knows how long, he found his wife by his side. He felt a sense of relief, there was somebody there to greet him back to the realm of the living. There was someone who yearned for his existence. Someone that prayed for his return. Someone that needed him.

That feeling was short-lived as he woke one day and noticed she was gone. Divorce papers waiting on the table by his side, along with a long letter explaining her decision.

Days, weeks, months passed as he went through numerous sessions of physical therapy. He felt a broken man. A once fearsome and lethal man… and now just a man trying to learn simple tasks like if he were a child.

When Escobar shot him, the news of Colonel Horacio Carrillo’s death spread like wildfire. However, thanks to Trujillo, one of the few survivors of the ambush that day, he was rushed to the hospital. Fortunately, the bullets had missed all the important parts of him. Of course there was damage, but little by little, thanks to the help of the doctors, nurses, therapists and everyone in between, the Colonel was able to make it.

Oh how he wished he would’ve been left to die.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

He was raised a catholic man. His family never missed mass on Sundays, no matter how much anyone protested. He’ll admit, there were times when he hated it. He doubted the existence of God. He doubted the existence of la Virgen. He doubted the existence of any omnipotent presence because if anyone in this universe existed, men like Escobar would be brought to justice.

As he laid on the cold concrete that day, he recited a prayer. A simple prayer, asking for forgiveness for his sins and whatnot. To be completely honest he didn’t even believe the words that he was saying. The overwhelming taste of blood in his mouth bothered him, and kept interrupting his prayer. Now, as the devil himself stood above him, he started to see his life flash before him. Once again, death itself didn’t scare him. He was ready to welcome it, in fact. Unfortunately he couldn’t even focus on that when someone else was occupying his mind. He felt a bit guilty, to be honest. He thought of his wife, Juliana. He thought of his children. He thought of the pain they’d have to endure because of his death. He thought of his mother. How his dear mother would grieve the death of his son. She would always voice her worries to him, but he always reassured her that nothing would ever happen to him. Until Escobar happened, then Horacio started to keep quiet. His reassurances to his whole family turned into nothing but silence. He kept thinking of his family, and he wished that was the extent of who he kept thinking.

That wasn’t the case.

You kept invading his mind like poison. In fact, that’s exactly how you slowly started to infiltrate his every thought. It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life, accepting you into the Search Bloc team. From the very first moment he laid eyes on you, he knew he had broken his sacred vows. He never did anything to you, he kept the relationship professional. Actually, he tried his best to avoid having any ties to you, but due to the nature of your job, it was almost impossible. No matter what he did, no matter where he turned, no matter where he went you always followed. It was as if a snake bit him, and little by little you started to take over every part of him. The poison coursed through his bloodstream, intoxicating him as it spread to every inch of his very being .

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The last few months leading up to his ‘death,’ he spent it at the office. It was during those months where Juliana started to doubt their marriage. Long hours away from home, the pressure and torment that rested upon Horacio’s shoulders, the way Escobar was draining him little by little started to affect Juliana. She didn’t know when this was going to come to an end. If there was even an end. What about when Escobar was caught? Who will follow? She will know no peace next to Horacio. Their children will know no peace next to their father. Not anymore.

He’d once promised her it wouldn’t always be like this. But unfortunately, she knew that promise would not be fulfilled.

So when she received news that he was caught up in an ambush, she felt life escape her. She regretted ever thinking that. But, as the months passed and she was informed that her husband had made it after all, she felt a tightness in her chest.

When she saw him there, almost lifeless, she begged God for forgiveness. She begged God for forgiveness for what she had in mind. It’s not that she didn’t love him, no that wasn’t the case at all. But she did not want to live in a constant state of fear. She did not want to get caught up in the war that followed him. So when he woke one day, she allowed herself a few days to feel out her emotions. But, seeing as how close he had come to dying, she came to a conclusion. She had to put herself first. She had to put her children first… and that’s what she did. She had no time to think as she placed the divorce papers on the table next to his bed. She reached into her purse, pulled out the letter that she hoped he’d read, and rested it on top of the papers that were about to end it all. Slowly, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. Disculpame, cariño.

Now, as the nights got longer and the winds grew colder, he found himself in the position he feared the most. Horacio Carrillo was alone.

The fact that it was nearing Christmas was worse. He always thought he’d have more time to get used to it. But it was one of those things that he shoved to the back of his mind as he tried to get himself back together. It caught up to him though, and now there was nothing he could do to make peace with solitude.

The war had been won, to an extent. Escobar was dead. The Cali godfathers were a distant threat. Colombia was starting to get well acquainted with peace. The Americans were still infiltrating his life. That was starting to become the norm for him.

He was definitely not sure why they had wanted him back. After he was discharged from the hospital and he was able to walk again and become a fraction of what he used to be, he was offered the same position. The same position, minus the physical aspect. Now, he had to hide behind his office and bark orders at men and wait for reports of how stakeouts and raids went. This isn’t how he wanted to live.

It was starting to get late. The building was starting to empty out quickly as the weekend before Christmas arrived. Carrillo looked out his office to find you on your desk. Murphy sat atop the files you had laid out on the table, throwing a ball of paper into the air before catching it and repeating the same motions. You sat on your chair, a smile adorning your face as you talked about nonsense with Murphy, Peña, and Trujillo. Carrillo felt a ping of jealousy sting him. He wished he would have that same smile directed towards him. He wished that smile was reserved for him and him only.

See, from the moment you joined the team you became a huge distraction for the Colonel. Your bright eyes, full of wonder and curiosity. Your smile, radiant as the sun and contagious to everyone around you. Your laugh, oh how your laugh was music to his ears. Your hair, the way it framed your beautiful face and left a haunting yet comforting trail of your scent as you walked past him. The way you were friendly with everyone around you and provided everyone that crossed your path with a sense of comfort. The unforgiving way you lit up any room you walked in to.

You were transferred to Colombia from Juarez. You had arrived at the same time, if not a bit after Agent Murphy. Unlike Steve and Javier, you were not a pain in his ass. Carrillo felt a tad bit of hostility towards the gringos, but never to you. Well, you weren’t really considered one to him. He’d come to learn that you were born and partly raised in Mexico, you became an American citizen when you were a teenager. He thought that must’ve been hard for you, leaving your home country and trading it for one that was so… hostile. Carrillo always thought America was like a wild bull, untamable and stubborn. That was one of the many things he’d come to admire about you: the way you’d easily adjust to the situation around you, no matter what it was.

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Outside the church, you leaned on your forearms against the side of the car, aimlessly tracing the letters on the hood of the beat up police car. Steve leaned with his back against the bumper of the car while Peña and Carrillo questioned where Javier’s informant was. Helena, you recalled Javier sharing her name with the Colonel. You listened to their conversation in Spanish, and you assumed it was because they were trying to hide something from Steve and yourself.

You didn’t really care if they were trying to hide something. You understood every word they were saying, though they did not have a clue you were fluent in the language. Steve, however…

You felt so bad for the poor man. A white man in a foreign country, with no concept or knowledge of the language, much less the culture. You felt the need to approach him and inform him of the conversation he was excluded from, but you stopped yourself when you heard the men start to question your presence.

“¿y la chica?”

“No, ella se queda con Murphy. Será mucho para ella,” you heard Javier say. Carrillo asked Javier about you, and Peña, most likely thinking you were some sort of fragile porcelain doll, told him you were to stay with Steve. Asshole, you thought to yourself. You looked at both of the men, and heard Javier say, “you two stay here and see if she comes back, okay?”

With that you saw as they both got onto a truck and left, leaving you and Murphy to stare at each other in confusion.

Time passed and you two decided to get acquainted with one another. You learned Steve was born in Tennessee but grew up in West Virginia. He told you all about his career, how he ended up in Colombia, and the love of his life who waited for him back at the house. You smiled at the way he talked about her. You didn’t really believe in true love, but the way Steve was expressing himself about Connie? You might start to actually believe it.

The church bells started to toll, and Steve let out a yawn. He excused himself for a moment before he walked to the driver’s side of the car. With a soft knock on the windshield, he approached the officer that sat at the wheel.

“Any news on the radio?” Steve asked.

“¿Le digo?” The soldier asked his partner.

“No. Acuérdese lo que dijo Carrillo,” The soldier replied to his partner, eyeing Steve cautiously.

“Perdón, pero yo no hablo inglés,” The soldier on the driver seat told Steve. An apologetic smile on his face.

Steve sighed. With a frustrated huff he walked back next to you and leaned against the car.

“Nothing yet. Can’t believe they left us behind just like that,” Steve told you while he pulled a cigarette out of the pocket of his jacket.

“There’s something they don't want us to know. Carrillo’s men clearly have instructions to not share any information with either of us. Might want to start questioning who we got as partners,” you told him.

As you lit the cigarette Steve offered you, you noticed how he looked at you confused.

“What makes you say that?” He asked you.

You shrugged and exhaled the smoke from your cigarette slowly, “I understood what they were saying. One of Carrillo’s men said to remember what he’d told them. That sounds like they’re withholding their whereabouts.”

Steve let out a chuckle. “You know Spanish? How come you never said anything?”

You smirked and shrugged again, “Nobody ever asked. My superiors know, that’s what matters.”

“Remind me to keep you around me as a translator then,” Steve smiled at you.

“Oh honey, I am more than just a translator.”

And that’s how Steve learned about your past. Where you were born, where you came from, what got you to this place. From that moment on, you made an agreement with Murphy that you’d help him with the language. Maybe not with the teaching, but letting him know what those around him would say.

So long as he didn’t tell Peña or Carrillo that you knew Spanish. You wanted to see how far this little game could go.

Carrillo’s men eventually called the both of you and took you to where Peña and the Colonel were. Steve got out of the car frustrated, immediately asking where Peña was. When you saw he stormed towards both men, you got out of the car. You gave a brief ‘thank you’ to the men that drove you there and tried to catch up with Steve.

When you got there you heard Steve and Javier speaking about Helena. How she was and if she was gonna be okay. As you listened and looked between the both of them, you felt a strong pair of eyes on you. You shifted your gaze and found the Colonel looking at you. You weren’t gonna deny it, his stare was overwhelming. If he would’ve been any other man, or any other person you worked with, you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. However, the fact that they both left you behind on purpose stirred frustration within you.

You stared back at him, no intention of backing down from this silent challenge. You thought it might’ve been a meaningless action, but you hoped it got the message across. You weren’t going to give in. Not to him. Not to anybody. There was a reason you were sent down here, and you were here to stay as long as they needed you.

Eventually Carrillo lowered his gaze. He’d never admit it but he felt small in your presence. Your gaze was soft. Stern, but somehow tender. And that’s what made him uncomfortable. You weren’t just looking at him. You were looking at him. Through him. That made him uncomfortable. That was the moment when he knew you weren’t just going to be another member of the team. And he’d start to regret laying his eyes on you, for it was going to be impossible to get you out of his mind.

“You left me behind on purpose,” Murphy exclaimed to Javier.

“Look, man–” Javier started to explain. More than likely it was gonna be some bullshit excuse as to why he abandoned you both.

“If we’re gonna be partners, I don’t get left behind. We don’t get left behind. We didn’t come all the way down here, Peña, to sit on the fucking sidelines.”

Javier looked at Steve and then to you. You gave him a simple nod, signifying that you completely agreed with your companion. You didn’t come here to waste your time.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

It was late. Nearing midnight. Yet, Colonel Carrillo sat still in his office. The soft ticking of the clock on the wall became louder each time. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to go home. He couldn’t even call it home anymore. The empty structure that held so many memories, so much warmth and love now turned into an unwelcoming and haunted place. The ghost of the memories he shared with his family.

His mind started to betray him. He thought of the man he used to be. The collected, composed, and stoic Colonel Horacio Carrillo. Leader of the Search Bloc. Escobar’s nightmare.

Now? A broken man with broken dreams.

He felt the walls he built around himself start to crack.

It’s not like he did it on purpose, as a military man it was more of a requirement. And he wasn’t always like this.

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Keep it together, Horacio. He thought to himself. The rampage of his ongoing self-sabotaging thoughts were interrupted by a series of laughs that came from outside his office. He stood up and walked towards the door, he stopped in his tracks when he found you shoving Agent Peña away from you. The laughter that came out of you was angelical to him.

Peña, Murphy, and Trujillo looked up at the Colonel, and immediately quieted down. At the sudden change in atmosphere, you turned and followed their gaze and found none other than the Colonel looking at all of you.

“Carrillo, we were just going to go out for some drinks. Care to join us?” Asked Murphy.

The Colonel politely declined the offer but wished them a good time. He saw as all three men walked away, waving their goodbyes to you. You turned to settle back into your chair and looked up at the Colonel.

“You’re not going to join them?” He asked you curiously.

“No, I’m okay. Not really in the mood to join them. I spend enough time with them as it is,” you smiled at him.

He couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that engulfed him at seeing you smile directly at him.

He nodded.

“Shouldn’t you be going home, then?” He asked you once again.

You shook your head. Sure, it could be the weekend and all but you knew if you went home it’d just be a long episode of absolute boredom. Maybe you’d consider joining your friends for a drink.

“Very well then,” he said to you. With a small turn he went back into his office and sat on his chair.

Fuck. He thought. Had you really just smiled at him? He felt like an idiot. He felt like a teenage boy all over again when their crush would spare a glance at their direction. Keep it together, Horacio. For fuck’s sake.

He didn’t know long he stayed that way. His face burrowed in his hands. His elbows deeply planted on the surface of his desk. His tormenting thoughts were back.

Good for nothing. You couldn't even take down Escobar, yourself. The whole nation calls you a hero but that’s not who you actually are. Murderer. Colonel Martinez is ten times better a man than you are, pendejo. You should've died that day. Trujillo should've left you to die--

His body gently started to shake as he remembered Pablo looming above his body. Darkness started to surround him. The agonizing piercing pain of the first bullet Pablo shot at his body. He remembers he didn’t even make a sound when the bullet entered him. He couldn’t give Escobar the satisfaction.

A knock at his door snapped him out of it.

He looked up to find you, eyes full of concern for him.

“Everything okay, Colonel?” you asked him. Your tone barely above a whisper.

He stayed silent as he averted his eyes to his lap. He tried to breathe, but he felt as if he were frozen, under the ice. No matter how hard he hit the layer of ice he was trapped under, it wouldn’t break and he was about to drown. He tried taking another breath, but the oxygen wouldn’t reach his lungs. He slowly started to get pulled deeper and deeper into the depths of the unforgiving arctic, not knowing if he’d ever make it back.

He suddenly felt tears stain his cheeks. The cracks of the walls started to get bigger and bigger, and he knew he was at his breaking point.

At the sight of the poor man before you, you rushed to his side. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what was acceptable to do. Surely your eyes were playing tricks with you. The rigid man you always knew was shattering before you. So you did what you’d never thought you’d ever do.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him.

Every single moment after that kept coming as a surprise for you.

You held him tightly as he sobbed in your arms. His body shook with every gasp he took. You’re not sure how you both ended up on the floor, but the fact of the matter was that he was still in your arms. You were awkwardly sitting with one leg tucked underneath you and the other extended to the side to accommodate the Colonel’s body into yours. You started to stroke his hair and run your fingers through it absentmindedly. Wondering what had brought him to this point.

Whatever it was you wished you could take it all away. Truth be told you had developed feelings for the man that seemed to not have any. You loved the way he carried himself. Always so full of confidence. You particularly loved that he was such an ass. All because you knew he wasn’t really like that. It was all a show. You just knew there was a playful and gentle man behind the mask of what was Colonel Horacio Carrillo. You knew there was a man worth loving.

You also knew he was married before, so you kept your distance. Always tried keeping it professional. But you’d be a damn liar if you said you wouldn’t go out of your way to make sure the Colonel noticed you. Not in a cringe way, you were slightly younger than him, so you didn’t want to embarrass yourself. Plus, he was married. You weren’t about to become a home wrecker, but the feelings you developed for him weren’t harming anyone but yourself. You could live with that.

You weren’t an idiot either. You’d sometimes notice the way his gaze would linger on you a little bit longer than other people. The way sometimes he’d use a softer tone with you. The way he’d, although very rarely, would give you the smallest of smiles. This would cause you to go home at the end of the night and smile to yourself like a teenage girl while you attempted to sleep. Maybe it was all in your head, but it made going to work worthwhile.

As the Colonel slowly came back to his senses, he started to pull himself away from you. He gave you an apologetic look that shattered your heart. It’s okay, you wanted to tell him, I got you.

“I am sorry, agent. I do not know what came over me,” he said as he wiped his nose. Gosh, he felt so stupid. A broken man that was falling apart in the arms of the person who was not supposed to see this side of him.

“No se disculpe, coronel. No hay por qué pedir perdón,” you told him with the softest tone you could muster. You were saying the truth though, there was absolutely no reason for him to apologize. He had done nothing wrong.

Carrillo had once heard that people expressed their feelings better in a different language than their mother tongue. This was due to the fact another language served as a distraction from their actual feelings. So although you were both fluent in Spanish, he felt safer communicating with you in english. If he would’ve been within his five senses, he would’ve started questioning you about the language you replied to him in.

Horacio took a deep breath and felt the oxygen reach his lungs this time. Your scent filled his system and he felt like he had broken through the ice that trapped him. His head was above the water now.

You both stayed sitting on the floor, at this point you decided to cross your legs and get into a more comfortable position across from him. He sat with his back against the drawers of his desk, his feet planted on the floor and his knees bent. He ran his hands up and down the expanse of his legs slowly, as if he were trying to comfort himself.

“I am going to be honest with you, agent. I have not been well. I know there’s been… talk. About me, about what happened to me after Escobar, about my life,” he sighed and tried to think of the point he wanted to make, if there was even one. Truth be told, if you had already seen him cry, hell, what else could he lose by sharing a bit of what was on his mind. “My wife left me after I woke up from… the aftermath. I do not blame her, I hold no negative feelings towards her. But I have found myself in a position that I did not prepare for. The days get shorter and the nights get longer..”

You gave him a small nod to indicate that you were listening to him. Gosh, you could listen to him even if there were a million people around you talking all at once. Only him.

“... Time has passed and everyone except me has changed. I–I am lonely to the point of pain,” he continued. His voice is slow and soft, but the unsteadiness in it was hard to miss.

You took in a deep breath and looked around you, trying to find the right words to say. Trying to find the perfect words for him, because you truly believed if this man asked you for the world right now, you’d find a way to get him the damn universe.

“I can’t say I understand what you’re going through, Colonel–”

“Horacio,” he interrupted you, “please call me Horacio.”

You gave him a gentle smile before continuing, “Horacio. I can’t say I understand what you’re going through because I have never gone through that myself. However, I can understand your loneliness. But the thing is,” you threaded lightly, because you still didn’t know what was acceptable in this situation, “you don’t have to be. Look, I know it’s hard and all but you somewhat have a second family here. Agent Peña, Agent Murphy, your soldiers… me.”

Horacio Carrillo felt a jolt of electricity run through his body as you looked at him. Truly looked at him. Your own intense eyes focusing on his own. He felt you were a storm. A storm with the darkest of skies and the heaviest of rains that could somehow lullaby him into the most relaxing sleep of his life.

“Did Martinez… was he a good leader?” he asked, tears once again threatening to fill his eyes.

You let out a soft laugh and looked at your legs. Was he questioning the leadership style of Colonel Martinez because he was… insecure? Was Colonel Horacio Carrillo, the daring leader everyone came to know, insecure? Was he really comparing himself to Martinez?

“Colonel Martinez was good. A very respectable man. But,” you looked back up to him and scooted a bit closer to him, “he wasn’t you. I don’t think there’s any man in the world that would be able to fill your shoes.” You weren’t referring to the previous Colonel’s leadership style. No, this was personal.

He scoffed softly and rolled his eyes. He didn’t mean to do this in a rude way, but he felt you were just saying this out of pity.

“I am just a fraction of the man Hugo Martinez is,” he said coldly.

“This isn’t about who’s a bigger or better man, Horacio. Sure, under Martinez’s leadership we were able to bring down Pablo. But at the end of the day, you were the one that haunted Escobar’s dreams. You led one of Colombia’s most important unit. Colonel Martinez continued what you started,” you grabbed his face in your hands and let your thumbs stroke his cheeks. The rough feeling of the stubble that was beginning to grow under your fingers. “Did you hear that? What you, Horacio Carrillo, started.”

“I did terrible things that he never even had to do,” he protested.

“We all did, my dear. But we all did what we had to do in order to survive.”

My dear. That alone blew away the brewing tempest that was forming his mind. He nodded in your hands and swallowed the tightness he felt in his throat.

You pulled your hands away from his face and stood up, extending one of your hands to him to pull him back to his feet. He wanted to chuckle at that. You, smaller than him in size, wanted to bring him back to his feet. He ended up taking your hand but didn’t put any of his weight on you as he rose to stand.

“Come with me. Let’s go think of something else,” you smiled brightly up at him. A full smile that reached your eyes and hinted at a bit of mischief that somehow put him at ease.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had convinced him to climb in your car without saying where you were taking him. He didn’t mind though, he trusted you with his life. You’d been by his side during some of the most dangerous moments of his life, what would make him think you’d want to hurt him.

Nearing your destination, you instructed him to close his eyes. He obeyed without having to ask him twice. He was starting to come to the realization that he quite enjoyed following your commands. His mind started to wonder to more pleasant situations as you drove. How would it feel for you to give him simple domestic commands? For you to tell him to do the dishes… to let you cook in peace… to give you one more kiss before he left for work. He snapped out of it before his mind decided to wander off too far. He felt the car come to a complete stop and heard you change gears to park.

“Keep them closed, okay?” you instructed him once again and he gave you a nod, the smallest hint of a smile starting to form on his face.

You got out of the driver’s seat and rushed to his side to open the door. You told him he could come out and held the door open for him as he undid his seatbelt and got out slowly. Once he was completely out of the car, you closed the door and took a deep breath.

“Alright, should I cover your eyes or guide you with my hands?”

He raised an eyebrow and started to grow suspicious. What could you possibly be hiding from him? He wasn’t going to give up the chance to have close contact with you though, even if it was just the feeling of his hand in yours.

He didn’t reply, instead he just extended his hand out to you. You smiled to yourself at the motion, immediately reaching out to hold his hand before you started to walk forward at a careful pace so he wouldn’t trip.

Horacio had lived most, if not all, of his life in Colombia. The cold weather didn’t faze him, hell, he was in the military and they had to endure rigid temperatures as part of their training. However, today in particular was cold. He wasn’t sure if it was because he had unconsciously lowered his defenses while he was with you, but the cold was starting to get to him. Even with his jacket on, he still felt the chill in the air as you guided him through wherever it was you took him to. His mind going haywire between the stark difference of the crisp weather and your warm hand holding his.

He heard the distant sound of children laughing, families calling out for their kids, conversations here and there, cars passing by. His suspicion grew by the second as he followed you, his eyes still closed when you came to a stop.

“Okay Horacio, you can open your eyes now.”

At your command, he opened his eyes and looked around, his sight trying to adjust to the environment around him. You’d taken him to a local plaza, a tourist-y area adorned and decorated with Christmas lights on every surface. There were lights wrapped around the trunks of the trees, lights hanging from the branches that swayed with the wind, lights resting on top of some small and well-kept bushes, lights that paved the way to the different directions of the plaza. Colorful lights everywhere.

“Ta-da!” you exclaimed, a bright smile on your face as you looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

He tried to take it all in, kept looking around before focusing on you. He saw the way you smiled at him, a hopeful expression in your eyes almost as if asking, do you like it?

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before taking a deep breath. He didn’t have time to think before he wrapped his arms around you this time, his lips resting against the soft skin of your forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your skin. A million words he wanted to say but couldn’t. Thank you for not letting me fall apart. Thank you for not letting me drown.

You closed your eyes as you returned the embrace. Wishing that, somehow, you could make him feel the love (that you’d been trying to bury deep down) through this simple act. Wishing that, maybe one day, you’d be able to tell him that if he were drowning you’d drain the whole ocean for him. Only for him.

#colonel carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo x reader #colonel carrillo #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x you #horacio carrillo imagine #Horacio carrillo fic #colonel carrillo imagine #colonel carrillo fic #narcos fic #narcos #goodnitedrdead writes #self indulgence babey #maurice compte

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jamesunderwater · 4 months

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🔀 Prongsfoot

(doing that thing where i go back to old great asks / prompt requests because i had a bad day lol, and this one was so gooooooood) the meme was: give me a pairing and i'll shuffle my playlist and make up an AU based on the song

"here comes a thought" - from steven universe, feat. Estelle and AJ Michalka

(linking to the youtube video bc i listened to it recently when my therapist told me to and i may or may not have sobbed. highly recommend taking the 3 min to watch❤)

and damn, this shit does NOT need to be AU to work for prongsfoot, but okay, since AU is what the prompt asks for:

Everyone knows Sirius Black is one of those kids -- nothing but trouble, always trying to make life harder for his parents, does all this acting out just to get attention. He runs away and no one asks why, they just take him by the collar and throw him back through the threshold. He does drugs and no one asks why, they just give him endless detentions and suspensions. He tries to end it all and no one asks why, they just lock him up where, finally, he can be someone else's problem. Sirius knows as soon as he sees James Potter that the other boy doesn't belong there. But Sirius is selfish, everyone has always said it, and James is funny. The walls aren't as gray when he's in the room. His last roommate didn't speak, and Sirius got put in isolation for three days when the one before that spit in his face and called him a faggot. (It isn't nice to strangle people when they call you a faggot.) James talks to him, doesn't call him a faggot, asks if Sirius knows a way to get into the front desk staff's candy stash. So even though this place is evil, Sirius is glad James is here. The doctors don't really care that Sirius wakes up every night between 3 and 4am and can't breathe. They give him a round blue pill, then a small yellow pill, finally a long pink one, and then they tell him it's all in his head. Tell him to breathe. Tell him to call the night staff if he needs someone. But the night staff just sticks a needle in you so you miss breakfast and the outside hour and feel like shit when you finally get up at 1 in the afternoon. So Sirius climbs out of bed mechanically every night, takes his pillow and bedsheet, and huddles in the nearby corner. He holds the pillow and begs his body to breathe, tries to remember that it hasn't killed him any other night; it's just in his head, it's all in his head. It doesn't matter, though. Every night he's terrified his breath won't come back. Every morning he's embarrassed he got so fucking upset about it again. He is so thankful to find that James is a deep sleeper. He's so thankful, until he isn't. Until he and James fall into each other laughing on the sofa during recreation time every day, their hands and arms entangled. Until they sneak back inside during outside hour and steal three girl scout cookies each from the box left open at reception. Until they stay up past light's out and whisper about their favorite things, their plans, asking each other all the questions except the obvious ones. Then, he starts to wish James weren't so heavy a sleeper. James finds out one night when he gets up to pee at 3:43. He doesn't make a big deal of it. He sits down next to Sirius and looks him in his panicked eyes and says, "It's okay, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here." James takes Sirius's hand and Sirius is a little less scared, finds a little more room in his chest to breathe. The two boys hold each other with a firm grip until the twisting shadows in their minds start to retreat, and tomorrow feels more possible.

dedicated to everyone who reads this and knows what the gray walls look like, or fears meeting them. it's okay, it's okay, it's okay. <3

#prongsfoot #sirius black #james potter #hp #bambibelle #the marauders #prongsfoot angst #tw psych ward #tw institutionalisation #tw suicidality #marauders fanfiction #my writing #prongsfoot*#marauders era #sirius x james #marauders fandom #tw homophobia

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will80sbyers · 23 days

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Could you explain why you moved to another country? Is it Ireland by the way? How did you prepare for that and how are you living by yourself? I just need some inspiration and motivation cause I want to do the same... Imagine: I'm 29, still live with my parents because finding a job that supports you is fucking hard (I'm from Latin America) and event though my parents are incredibly supportive (I know I'm very fortunate cause they are so lovely song hard-working and I have zero issues with them) I need to leave the nest. I need to be alone and do my own thing. What would you recommend? It really is taking a toll on me 🥹

I am back in Italy now, it didn't last long because I hoped to finish university so I went back like an idiot... To be honest I'm definitely not the one to go ask for advice on life because I literally have no idea what I want to do with my life, generally have zero motivation and at the moment I'm not doing anything productive and I'm pretty depressed and still avoiding going to a therapist because last time it didn't help enough and I don't have much faith in italian therapists to be competent lmao

Anyway I moved because I wanted to try to see if I could do it just to say "hey at least I tried/did this before dying"

And basically I was really lucky that my cousin already lived there with her husband and many times before she asked me if I wanted to try to go there for a bit because I was stuck with university and so I randomly decided to try to go, my parents helped me to pay for the plane tickets and the expense for everything until I found a job and I stayed at my cousin's home for like two weeks searching everyday all day for a job and an apartment there through sites like https://www.daft.ie/ and also looking in the newspaper of the town (I found the house through the newspaper- really old school)

whatever job I found (I also had like almost zero job experience before) was good for me, so I sent my CV for everything in hospitality and retail, I was super lucky that I got an interview for a retail job in town immediately and found a house and the interview went well so they told me they wanted me to work with them and I accepted the offer as soon as I knew for sure I had the apartment secured!

I was living with lots of roommates though and even unhinged people often lmaoooo but the house was a good one and in Ireland you're really lucky to find an apartment at a decent price that's not too high because there is a house crisis there with basically lots of assholes landlords that have bought houses to make them into bed and breakfasts only for tourists and the people from Ireland like students etc can't find a decent apartment and they are forced to stay at home with their parents because it's too expensive to leave even if they get paid well (compared to Italy) because they have the minimum wage...

So then as soon as I had the house and job I was good, did the documents I needed for the taxes etc following the procedures online, and the pay was enough for me to live on even if I wasn't rich and had to share the apartment and the job was good so I stayed for like 4 months all the summer but then while working I couldn't find any energy or time to also study there and so I decided that I either stayed there all my life doing a job that I wasn't exactly passionate about even if I was good at it or I at least tried to finish what I left at home somehow and decided to go back.... Now I don't really want to travel again even if I could because I feel like the problem is me not the place I am in 🤗

but trauma dumping aside, I was just extremely privileged to have all of these opportunities already and I knew that my parents could have helped me to survive if I needed help and I also had family near me so I had a support system already in place there emotionally + I was also really really really lucky that everything went well in every way possible and I immediately found both the job and the house - I am generally a really lucky person and things just end up working out for me and I'm really grateful for that but I also had already like a LOT of things easier because of my awesome family so someone that doesn't have that base behind will have more difficulty for sure in moving to another country 😔 BUT it's definitely still possible and many people I know actually did it all on their own so you CAN do it!!!

So in my case sadly I don't know how to help you in a specific way because of that... I can give general advice like it depends on what are your job skills for example and I know some people fly to the country they want to stay in and then try staying at a hotel or some place like that before they can find a permanent house there and a job, because searching them remotely from another country is really difficult!

If you have some money aside (or start putting money aside to do it) and you feel like you want to try you could try doing that, choose a country where you know the job market is good and where they have minimum wage especially...

I wouldn't recommend going to Italy at all because the job market is a joke, but Ireland is a really good place for the jobs and you usually get hired easily and they actually respond to the jobs applications lmao

the only problem with Ireland is that you pay a lot for the room in the apartment and will probably have to live with other workers

Oh also prepare a really good CV, search online "how to make a good résumé" and stuff like that and follow the instructions, also invent stuff to make it more professional and like distort the terminology a bit to make it better - like talk about the skills you have in a sort of pretentious way saying stuff like you have organizational skills, work well in groups etc etc and adapt it for the type of job you are sending it to!!! lmao idk how to explain this actually but I think doing the CV like that was why people actually called me even if I had zero experience in some things 🤣

I didn't exactly lie in it I just made it sound more professional like for example I worked with kids before for an internship and so I put like that I learned how to deal with complaints from the parents etc etc stuff like that but make it sound intelligent not like I'm yapping rn

I didn't use it because I hate AI BUT I also know that you could use something like chat gpt to write it well so if you're having difficulties with that you should try that

Remember that people hiring are generally pieces of shit keeping up this job culture that to me doesn't make much sense and curriculums and interviews have zero meaning and are nonsensical and basically performances that you have to put up with because of capitalism... what we as people want is just to have the ability to survive on our own when we work full-time but you have to play their little game even for the bare minimum

search how to make a good impression during a job interview on tiktok and follow what people say there and before the interview literally practice out loud in your room and try being all cute and friendly and to smile and be as relaxed as you can!!! I hate having to do all of that but it should help with getting a job and it works really well! Also dress well at the interview but not too much and be always on time no matter what

Anyway that's all I can think of now, I wish you all the best and I hope you can find a good place and can leave the nest as soon as possible!! Sorry for the mega gigantic response lmao hope it can help somehow!! Good luck 🍀🍀🍀🍀

#ask

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indigo-a-creeping · 1 year

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So Trans Day of Visibility seems like a good day to talk about this.

I’ve never liked my feminine features, specifically my chest. I could go all the way back to being three years old and desperately avoiding everything that even might be perceived as ‘girly,’ but I don’t need to do all that.

For the past two years I’ve been thinking about possible top surgery. I’ve chosen insurance companies that covered it. And with the way Florida’s laws are going lately, I decided I should do more than think about it.

I called the university hospital, which had two surgeons who performed the procedure recently, but one of them left and the other no longer does it. They have very restrictive requirements for it anyway.

I had a consultation with a plastic surgeon yesterday. He and his staff were very nice and respectful. He said it would be easy to do what I wanted, and that recovery should be smooth and easy too (we talked about pets - a large pulling dog would be a problem, but he said a small well-behaved dog shouldn’t). I got a quote for a price at the lowest end of the estimates I’d seen online (all-inclusive). However, even though he’s on my insurance and my insurance can cover the procedure, the state of Florida won’t allow him to take my insurance for that purpose. I can use it for pain medication, but probably nothing else.

(also I was hoping to get my hip area slimmed down enough that people don’t immediately “ma’am” me from a distance, but it’s already going to be a lot of money)

I’d already scheduled a therapist appointment to get a letter written for insurance coverage, and I’m still going to go and see how it goes. If nothing else we can talk about anxiety.

I don’t like asking for things, specifically money, but I’m thinking of starting a Go Fund Me for this (or if anyone has a recommendation for a better site, let me know). I know nobody is rolling in money and I hate to take any that you need more. I’m going to take a couple weeks to think about it before I make any commitments. I have a road trip coming up, and definitely some people on the itinerary who I want to talk to about this.

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dear--charlie · 11 months

Text

Dear Charlie,

It is I again ... :)

Well, I actually forgot about the existence of this blog, it has been ... 5 years? Is that possible? That sounds like a lot, it's scary how much of my life has already passed.

I am yet again depressed and disassociated. This time I also packed an eating disorder with me, so it's not all the same boring routine... Splendor at it's finest.

A year and a half ago or so I started university and honestly, I hate university. I have very few friends there and one of them forgot about me the second she got better so I decided to cut her off, to not feel the shame of being used. The other one is also quite mentally ill to be honest and she also suffers from an ed, which makes it hard for me to interact with her as someone trying her best to recover. I recently had a lapse (or relapse? I can never understand what's more appropriate and calling it relapse just feels like I am bragging for attetion) and when I decided I'd stop it and try to recover again, I had to bring the time I spend interacting with her to a minimum. Maybe some people will call me selfish, but do I care? If you were in my shoes, you'd talk differently. People's hate is just the cost of making your own decisions about life it seems.

On another note, I am going to therapy, yay. I also went to this ed treatment center when things got bad with eating and I am still going there in secret from my family.

Now that I mentioned therapy, there is one thing I really want to write here. It happened almost a year ago already, but it honestly still haunts me. Maybe I am too dramatic idk, people have it way worse...but this is MY note so I can write whatever I want right... xd

Well, when I became anorexic about 2 years ago, I sought out a therapist. She was recommended to me by my friend I mentioned above with whom I no longer interact. It was an old woman, 60+, very short, but this person had something so unsettling about her, Charlie, that you entered the room she'd sit in with a feeling of being somehow tried by a figure of immense evil. I felt something was strange about her quite early on, but this lady charged very little for her services and I am a poor student, so I didn't want to give it up... Until one time. She'd often make weird remarks about how pretty I am, asked me who had green eyes, if my mom or dad, I believe it was already on the first or second session... I felt weird, but decided to overlook it. She then later on kept mentioning another client of hers, telling me that I could meet him and talk to him as we both have a history of living with a very manipulative grandfather. I assumed she meant calling him to one of our sessions and having this weird group therapy. Well, I was wrong. One day she asked me if I've ever had a boyfriend - I haven't yet, so I told her no. She acted as if this was a problem - what a total c*nt tbh :^) - but anyway, she then later in the session mentioned him again and kept saying that he is old, way older than me. I felt weird, so I asked how old? And she replied: "Quite old." ??? red flags, I know, but well, I made her tell me he was 34 or so. I don't exactly remember. Well, she said again that we have to meet up, me and him. I was like mhm she probably means some different time. No. At the end of our sessions someome rang her bell and she replied: "*his name*, come in" I was scared, even though still trying to convince myself that nothing is wrong. Well, I wanted to leave, but the witch literally stood in front of the door and wouldn't let me. The man appeared at the doorstep. She told him he should take me for a ride somewhere in his car at the weekend and asked him if he had time - he said well yes. Then she asked me if I wanted to go and I felt so scared by that time - but I managed to say I'll think about it. Well, after this happened, I was mortified and I ended up ending everything with her.

This scared me so much, Charlie. I don't tell people about it anymore, but sometimes I see an old woman outside who faintly resembles her and get a shiver of dread up my spine. Sometimes the memories of her just come to me as flashbacks and I feel dirty. I felt dirty after this happened to be honest, even though nothing really happened to me. I guess I felt strangely exploited and objectified. I came to her for help but she did this thing...for what? God knows.

On another note, lately I am obsessing over a certain anime character and its weirdly healing me even though I am still feeling very bad. He is not a good person, but I relate to him a lot for some reason.

I also write a lot, Charlie, my stories are probably the only thing that genuinely makes me happy to be myself. I also try to draw when I can.

Well, this is all the brain vomit I can think of for today.

Thank you for listening.

-mv

#dear charlie #mv

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loreweaver-universe · 2 years

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And that’s the episode.

Well! Now Amity’s got something to ask Willow about, doesn’t she. She’d already seen Willow’s power before--back when she unleashed green hell all over the school--but she may not have properly processed that, and she DEFINITELY wasn’t expecting a mere human to be able to take part in a magic ritual like that, even if she was able to draw little fiddly spells on paper. I wonder what’s going to come of that; it’s got to be burning her up inside, and I REALLY want to see that confrontation.

That’ll be it for tonight, sorry. I’m sick and tired and anxious and I just want to relax and go to bed now that I know I’ll at least have my rent paid. I’ve got an appointment with my doctor on the fourth; during that I’m going to ask them to set me up with a therapist to help me work through my blogging-related anxiety. I’m also going to try to do short liveblogs in the early afternoon a couple times per week, see if taking it in more bite-sized chunks will help me work through the backlog more easily.

In the meantime, thank you all for tuning in, and thank you to my 48 patrons, who help me make it month to month! I’ll see you all again soon!

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OTHER PEOPLE YOU MAY ENJOY:

I may have been one of the earlier Steven Universe liveblogs, but a whole community of livebloggers has sprung up over the last six years! I linked to a bunch individually for a few wrap-ups, but honestly, this end-slate is already eight billion miles long, so I’m just gonna link to my links page. Click here if you want recommendations of other livebloggers, or other neat people, or webcomics and podcasts that I recommend.

#owl house #the owl house #bloggin #owlbloggin #owl house episode 6 #owl12 #episode wrap up

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xbaebsae · 2 years

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Hey! Sorry for being a lil annoying but do you still take normal commission? I remembered you took some in the past. A friend told me they had a slot but when I asked them how its going they avoid answering it. And I wanted to ask if you plan on ever taking some again?

Ahh thanks for being interested ♥ I had cancelled them in the past because my mental health got very bad and my therapist recommended I'd drop stress wherever it was possible. Not sure why your friend was secretive about it, I was always open about delays and such 😅

Maybe in a month or so I open a few slots because I'll be done with my university and my side job.

#asks

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gurugirl · 2 months

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any tips for someone who has zero gun

human contact? i took open school last year (april ‘23), to prepare for national university admission exam (massive deal in my country), open school is basically when you don’t have to physically go to school, you just have to give exams that too from your home. so main purpose of this was to study and go to private institute’s classes for prep for the exam(1.3M+ students appear, and only 39k seats). and i spent a big chunk of my parents money on this private institute, but now the situation is that i’m no longer interested in studying. i cut off all my friends. i don’t talk to people at the institute. my institute has been off for 3 months now (more like i didn’t attend for 2 months, i used to sit at the library after lying to my mom that i went to the institute). i have no human contact. i rot in my bed all day. i watch youtube and instagram just to have that human interaction atleast online. it’s not that all my friends left me, it’s that i myself cut them one by one off bcz everyone was giving me the ick. my mom doesn’t talk to me in a good way, it’s either anger or nagging. she uses me not having any person against me during fights (that are caused by me bcz i share my feelings with her about not having anyone to talk to and how her not talking to me in a good way affects me, i cry like 30 seconds into taking to her). my sister is to young to be hearing all this depressing stuff from me, she’s happy with her school and friends and i want her to be that way. my dad is posted somewhere else for work so he doesn’t live with us. he calls my mom 4+ times a day, talks goofily and happily with my sister, but he never talks to me. he asks my mom what am i doing and her answer is always that i am studying, even tho i’m not and literally sitting right infront of her at dining table. he never further asks about me. i recently bought myself a new phone, i only have four contacts— mom, sis, dad and aunt, and i got my dad’s number after he ringed my phone, which he only does when mom’s not picking his calls. now i don’t pick up his calls but back when i used to, his word used to be “where’s mom?” no hi or how are you to his daughter. i talk to no one. i don’t even go to my balcony that’s attached to my own room. haven’t seen sunlight in weeks. but nobody cares

Hi sweetheart. First it's so hard to know how I can give advice for this because it sounds like you're depressed. I'm not a doctor, though. I have no qualifications to tell you what's happening, but it truly sounds like you might be going through depression. And depression can immobilize you and you may find yourself alienating from all your friends and family, a form of self-sabatoge.

If you have the ability, consider therapy. It sounds like you live in India based on what you've said about open school and nat'l university exams (I might be wrong, if so, apologies) and I don't know what options you have or what cities you live near but see if there is a program or some therapists in your area.

Take a look at this and this and here are some free online therapy chat options (7 Cups always comes highly recommended) if you'd like to talk to someone online.

I'm so sorry that you're going through this and feeling this way. I hope you find some peace and begin to feel like yourself again. While I don't have great advice for you I will say that I'm always here if you want to vent. I'll read any ask you send and hear you. You deserve to be listened to and to feel happy in life.

Also if anyone here has real advice to give or some love to share with anon please do.

xoxo

#ask

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nahalism · 7 months

Note

howwwww ddid you manage to study and get a darned degree within a scheduled academic reality with your impulsive and random spurges of energy/inspiration¿¡ is it survivable most of my friends r systematic, somehow collected, motivated in a beauutiful steady way that’s typically required in higher ed and i just¡ do not¡ relate¡ loove you hope you are breathing easy🫶🏻🫶🏻

lool man.

the truth is, i did get the degree, but the process was not as heroic as ur question makes it sound. the determination to finish came from a genuine passion for literature, but also cause i didnt want to drop out and have debt, but no degree to show for it. everytime i looked for an excuse to quit, i had my mum telling me 'i only had a year left and could pursue what i wanted to when i was done'. — she was right, but i dont think right means it was the only way to do things. i think my approach was courageous, but also very based in fear and lack of self believe. so whilst i dont regret it, and its part of what got me to build that self believe and faith over fear, there are times i question if dropping out and pursuing my 'spurges of inspiration' would have been the braver and more rewarding choice. it may or may not have been, but i cant answer that cause its not the path i chose.

how i did it was a matter of programming my mind. sounds cliche, but as ive said before i fanaticised over ways i could effectively 'hack my mind' so that regardless of what i thought felt and was going thru, i could not just perform, but overcome the barriers that made it hard for me to perform. (i have a ask with book recommendations and loads of those books were part of the resources that saw me thru). that process was ugly at times, full of extreme stress, insomnia, extreme highs, crazy lows, smatterings of episodes where i was so exhausted and had pushed my body, psyche and emotional state to such extremes that i was full on out of it and a shell of a person. i was sent to my uni therapist and psychiatrist multiple times, and my family were concerned for my wellbeing. i spoke to my professors one on one maybe a maximum of two times. i barely had friends and a social life because my mental state was so poor, and the friends i did have i was constantly paranoid about losing cause i felt like i had no energy to meet up with them call them or maintain a relationship with them. i had consistent insomnia and near to no quality life. and i pursued art, writing and non degree related passions only because i sacrificed doing the other stereotypical university things my friends were doing.

im not saying this to be a victim. i rate myself highly and respect myself for what ive been able to achieve, but i dont want to say all the good w out contextualising the reality of how bad it actually was. i love learning but the the institution of education itself was hell for me 2 b honestly quite insufferable. i dont know how i survived if not for sheer will

the only advice i can give you is try to have a schedule. dont compare yourself to others, just do your best, find what your passionate about re: your degree, set a personal goal of what you want to achieve, and hold on to that blindly. have people around you that will let you break down and vent about what your finding difficult without judgement. & its awkward but if you can find someone in ur unis pastoral care department that knows what your going thru and will check in to see if your doing good or struggling. above everything, life is short and not promised. follow ur urged and ur inspiration cause thats the only thing thats real and only thing that will keep ur spirits up when times are hard. skills and experience are more important than degrees

sending u a huge hug and all the luck in the world. it might be hard but its not impossible!!! u got this

#ask

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wherearethewatermelons · 11 months

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Hi! I never really open tumblr anymore but I do check your blog every few months to see how you are ❤️ that’s how I saw your post about me now lol 😆 so I thought I would send a little ask. I’m good, I just finished my second year of university so I only have one year left and that’s crazy to think about. I got my first job, it was a job my brother recommended I apply to (it’s a bit funny because he has his job because I told him to apply for it). I love it and everyone is so nice and helpful. I have already started saving money to move to Stockholm after I graduate since the lowest price of a studio apartment tends to be about 3 million Swedish crowns 🫠 I will have to take a loan but I am just trying to have as much money as possible upfront. I also spent two months in Poland doing an internship (as part of my degree), the internship was absolutely horrible because the company was basically using interns to run the place to put it broadly but that’s a long story. I don’t regret it though, the main reason I went there was so I could spend more time with my relatives so I was living with one of my cousins and I got to celebrate Easter with my grandparents for the first time! I also got to visit Warszawa and another cousin. I kinda joined the international students at my cousins university because she took care of them so I got free entry and free drinks at bars and clubs. I almost went to Krakow with them but I had to work and also I was there a few months ago. In honestly think I’m doing the best I have in a while! Except for falling down the stairs two days ago and my therapist not calling me back but I am still at my happiest in a long while! 😊 I hope you are good too! How is the nursing degree going? I think nursing is super impressive I wouldn’t be able to do it. My brother started studying to become a doctor and I know I would be miserable in that field lol.

-🐐❤️

hello my love!!! i’m so happy to hear from you. glad things are going well for you so happy to hear that you’re almost done with university.

saving up is a really good idea I know it helped me when i had my job i made sure to save $100 from each paycheck and it helped me pay like 3 months worth of bills. i would also maybe say to stock up on some things before you move out that way you already have some stuff like toiletries, cleaning supplies and stuff like that (don’t know if that’s just an american thing though)

I will be going into my third year this fall and i’m really excited because now i actually get to do classes more closely related to nursing rather than just GERs. i have to apply for the nursing program next year so fingers crossed 🤞🏾

anyway so happy to hear from you and i’m glad you’re doing good 🫶🏾

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo.

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy.

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships.

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate.

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?”

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise.

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum.

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed.

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks.

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.”

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you.

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is.

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support.

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle.

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this.

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway.

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you.

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck.

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal.

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw.

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship.

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.”

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him.

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it.

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought.

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble.

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later.

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again.

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding.

Both of you looked ridiculous.

“Stay away, fiend.”

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you.

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t.

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible.

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself.

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring.

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time.

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes.

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you.

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again.

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst.

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm.

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying.

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again.

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment.

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you.

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up.

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech.

“Suppose that’s two points for me?”

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something.

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him?

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know.

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again.

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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