#with somebody they don't even know / are not friends

[cowgurrrl]

Strangers

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader (cowgirl!reader???)

Author’s note: goddammit is this gonna be a thing

Summary: Javi struggles to assimilate back into civilian life in Texas until an old friend returns [1.5k]

Warnings: Texas Javi my beloved, language, addictive tendencies, PTSD symptoms, Javi + Steve 4eva, reader has a brother, southernisms, pining, yeah there’s probably gonna be a part two 🙄

Javi really did try his best to leave Colombia and the ghosts that pricked at his memory every time he turned a familiar corner. He wanted to do better. He felt he had to. Too many people died for him to just throw away his chance at life, but the days were long and hot, and he was so fucking tired. The nicotine patches stopped working, and the bottle suddenly wasn't enough to convince himself he was doing what he was sent to do. That he was doing the right thing. That he was a good person. 

He expected the feeling to leave him once he left the imaginary borders of Colombia and returned to the northern valley. He thought working with his dad and getting his feet back under him after years of being pushed and pulled at Reagan's whim would feel better than shaking down teenagers for narco information. Of course, it didn't disappear in the cacti and hazy horizons of Loredo or the arms of his father. It's only been a couple of hours, Peña, he thought. Give it some time. Who knows? Blistering Texas sunsets might be good for burning the blood off his hands. 

Except everybody in his small town knew of his exploits in Latin America. They knew his name was plastered to boxes full of evidence against the cartel and then some. They knew Chucho's boy was some kind of fucked up veteran or hero or whatever they wanted to call him. He avoided going into town more than necessary when he first got home because of how often he got stopped. It didn't matter if he was going to the hardware store, HEB, or the mechanic. Somebody ended up talking to him about Escobar or Cali. He couldn't escape his past even thousands of miles away from it. The only good thing about his newfound fame was the free drinks people pushed his way in the shit hole bar just on the outskirts of town. 

He tells himself to slow down, what with the early mornings and long days he's working, but it'd be a dick move to turn down free drinks, right? Sometimes, Javi loses hours in the bar, betting money on pool, flirting with women passing through town, and telling war stories of the jungle and sicarios and whatever else comes spilling out of his loose lips. He tells himself he's coping the best way he knows how when he comes down for breakfast looking and feeling like shit, his hair practically wet from lingering cigarette smoke, but he knows better. 

His dad deals with Javi's vices the same way they dealt with his mother's death: inefficiently and without making a sound. The most Chucho does is shake his head and sigh when Javi comes stumbling in at some ungodly hour. What more could he do? Javi barely told his dad where he was in the world. How was he supposed to tell him what he'd done? What he saw? What he allowed? No, his dad can never know. It'll kill him. It'll kill Javi to retell. 

Sometimes, Javi will call Steve and ask about Connie and the kids, and they'll act like they're old school buddies and not tethered together through tragedy and white powder. Steve will ask him about his sleep, and Javi will give some bullshit answer which makes Steve laugh. "Yeah, me too," he says one time. "Woke the baby up the other night 'cause I was talkin' again. Don't even know what about. Isn't that fun?" Javi doesn't give much away. He never does, but sometimes, it's just nice to know he's not alone in his struggle to get back to normal. 

Javi is back in town for a full forty days before he finally stumbles across you. At first, he doesn't remember you or your first name. Your last name, however, rattles around his skull until he finally gets the courage to ask if he knows you as he stands in line at the store. "You look familiar." He says, making you laugh. 

"I'd hope so. You were practically livin' in my house in high school." You say, throwing him back to his high school baseball days, spending time either in the field or on the ranch with your older brother. You were a little bit younger than him— the daughter of a weathered cattle rancher— and only caught his attention when you were in the way or being an obnoxious teenager. Man, did you grow up pretty, he thinks. Suddenly, he's hyperaware of his sweaty hair, rumpled shirt, and god-awful farmer's tan. 

"Last I heard, you'd moved out of town," Javi says, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing you carefully. The freckles dotting your face from all your time in the sun should be considered lethal, especially when you smile. 

"Last I heard, you were engaged." Just as you did then, you don't hold your punches. The jab doesn't hurt, but it does make him laugh, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck.

"Alright, you got me there," he says. "How's your brother?"

"Good. Married Suzanna a few years ago, and now they've got some babies running around." 

"They live around here?"

"Dallas," you say. "Dillon thinks he's too good for us and decided to be a real estate agent out there instead."

"Sounds riveting," Javi says and you laugh. The line gets shorter and shorter as you talk, but he can't focus on anything but you. "And you? What's a pretty girl like you still doing in this shit hole?" Something behind your eyes flickers at the comment and you take a deep breath, suddenly all too aware of how hot it is today.

"Somebody's gotta get Daddy off the horse every once in a while."

"And what? Your mama can't do that for you?"

"She knows better than to keep tryin'. I'm just as stubborn as he is, so one of us'll win or give up before the other." 

"Well, my money's on you." He says easily. You stare at each other for a little bit longer than necessary before the clerk calls you by name to get your attention. Your items are scanned, bagged, and paid for all in the span of a few seconds. You have no reason to linger in the checkout aisle, but you do, rocking on your boots' heels just a little. 

"Don't be a stranger, Peña." You say, looking him over as if you're seeing him for the first time. 

"I don't think this town's big enough for that." He says, and you chuckle.

"No, I don't think so either," you say. "Tell your dad I said hi." With all your Southern hospitality, you turn and leave. Javi watches you go until the clerk calls his name and breaks him out of it. Well, that and the sound of something crashing to the floor makes him reach for a gun he doesn't carry anymore. His shoulders brace for an explosion, and he can't catch his breath. He stares at the box and the broken jars in it as a pissed-off employee storms off to find a broom. He scoffs. 

Javi has dealt with some of the most dangerous people in the world, and jams are what spike his adrenaline. 

He tries to shrug it off and pay the cashier, but his ears are still ringing, and his heart is still racing when he climbs back into his truck. Fucking jam. He tries to forget about it as he drives home. He wants to forget about it. He wants to think of anything else. 

If that happens to be your smile, the way your laugh fills the air, or the inconspicuous way you looked at him when he complimented you, it's just a coincidence. 

When he gets home, he's craving a drink or a cigarette or something more physical to get his mind off of what happened. His shoulders slump with the weight of memory and Chucho sees. He always sees. He just doesn't know the right way to fix it. 

"Y'know, uh… your friend you used to play baseball with?" He asks, seemingly out of nowhere, as Javi puts away the groceries. He furrows his brows and gives his dad a confused look.

"I had lots of friends I played baseball with."

"He was datin' that girl you went to Homecoming with when you were a freshman?" Of all the things his dad remembers, of course, it's that. Javi resists the urge to roll his eyes and grinds his teeth instead.

"Suzanna?" He asks and Chucho snaps his fingers in a way that tells him that was the right answer. "His name was Dillion. What about him?" 

"Well, his dad heard you're back in town and invited us over for a barbecue," he says nonchalantly and Javi scoffs. "I'm not sure how he didn't know, but you know that old fucker's always out doin' something. Somebody probably told him something or the other. Anyway, you can say no. I told him you were still adjustin'."

"I'll go," Javi agrees too fast. "Might be good to… get outta the house. Wouldn't wanna be a stranger." Chucho is surprised but not displeased with Javi's answer, and they leave it as is. 

It's just reintegrating into civilian life. It's just socializing. It's just a barbecue. It's not an interrogation or a raid. It's coping. 

Apparently, coping could be really fun if he plays his cards right.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @space-zaddy-din-djarin @rainy-darling @its-me-mila @mnn11ankamaaka

[venturelovebot]

A/N: This sincerely took me damn long enough. There's really no excuse other than my brain was being really stubborn this month, so I'm sorry about that. Link to request is here!

Premise: You're the new kid at school with horrific anxiety and no friends. Angela Ziegler has a plan for that. Anxious!Alt!Reader x Nerdy!Kidcore!Venture hehehe featuring a tiny bit of SunShrine

Warnings: None! Pure cavity inducing fluff!

EDIT: EVERYTHING IS FIXED NOW PLEASE DISREGARD ALL PREVIOUS READS 😭

"Oh! I'm so glad you decided to show up, Sloan!" Angela beams, taking a seat at the library table.

"No problem Miss Ziegler! What did you want to talk to me about?" They ask, sitting down in the opposite chair.

Angela folds her hands underneath her chin and looks them directly in the eyes. "You already agreed to tutor [Y/N] for me, but I wanted to inform you that it's no longer necessary." She begins explaining.

"Oh– did something happen?" They add, taken aback by the sudden decision.

"Not exactly. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that [Y/N] does all of their classes alone." Angela takes a moment to decide how she wants to word the next part of the explanation. "Never mind that. I think it would do them a world of good to have someone they could call a friend."

"... a friend?" The confusion on their face grows.

She nods. "That's where you come in."

Sloan fidgets in their seat nervously. "Uh, well..."

The first thing that comes to their mind were all the rumors about you, that you were one of the weird ones: you hated everyone and everything, your parents were trained CIA spies and your presence was just a plant to keep everyone distracted, that you poisoned someone at your previous school and that's why you had to transfer here.

A look of horror appears on their face. Tutoring was one thing, but being your friend? What were they, a lab rat? What happens when they inevitably end up as poisoning victim number two? Surely Angela was out of her mind.

They can hear the main doors opening and closing in the distance.

"Miss Ziegl–" Your voice shyly calls out before noticing someone sitting with your teacher.

Your body freezes in fear.

"[Y/N]! You're just in time!" Angela stands up from her seat and offers it to you.

You say nothing, now moving stiffly towards where she was sitting before replacing her presence in the chair. You gaze down at the table with emotionless eyes. Angela's arms gently squeeze your shoulders in a desperate attempt to comfort you before the main doors open once again.

"Ah, Miss Ziegler. It's good to see you here." Your biology teacher walks up to the three of you before placing a hand on the small of Angela's back.

"Please– just call me Angela at this point." She giggles lightly before turning away from the two of you. "You kids have fun now!"

What a weird sequence of events that just happened.

"Wait... Miss Ziegler and Miss O'Deorain are dating?" They sincerely couldn't decide what was weirder at this point: Angela forcing them to be your friend, or the fact that Moira was able to pull anybody– let alone somebody like Angela.

Sloan's eyes turn back to you. This was the first time they had seen you up close before– the intricate make up, the dark clothing and the beautiful jewelry– it was certainly what they expected. However, there was an intimidating air about you when viewed from afar that was lacking up close. Instead of scary, you just seemed frightened. Lonely, even. Is that how you lured in your victims? A nervous grin appears across their face.

"Um. Hi!" They speak up in the cheeriest voice they can muster.

You glance up at them and your eyes don't know where to look first: the colorful chunky hair clips with fruit patterns, the rainbow glasses chain, the dinosaur themed tape holding said glasses together, the rainbow rubber bands present on their equally as rainbow braces... you could go on and on. The truth is that you enjoyed the look, though. It was the type of uniqueness that you enjoyed.

"... hi." Your voice is soft and you can't bring yourself to raise it.

An awkward silence passes between the two of you before they remember it was lunch time.

"So–" They set their dinosaur shaped ita bag on top of the table, grabbing a juice pack from inside. "Um... lunch, huh?"

They stab the straw into the box before taking a sip.

"I didn't bring mine."

They stop sipping.

"Oh. You just forgot it...?" They wonder.

"I just don't like eating lunch." You lie– it wasn't the food you minded, it was eating in front of others that bothered you.

They don't reply. Normally they would just get up and leave in a situation like this since you clearly weren't interested, but Angela roped them into this without much of a choice. What else were they supposed to talk about with such an asocial human being? Especially one who was rumored to the absolute worst to deal with. This entire situation felt so embarrassingly hopeless, but at least it would make for a funny story to tell Kiriko and Illari.

"Hm. So..." Sloan mumbles, mostly to themself. There really wasn't much to talk about with you it seemed.

You place your coffin shaped backpack on the table and pull out a cutesy coloring book with your coloring pencils. You were entirely done with this attempt at a conversation.

That's when they glance down at what you were coloring– Kuromi.

"Oh! You like Sanrio, too?" Their face lit up.

You guess that was to be expected based on their extra colorful exterior– but it was also the first time you met someone who also seemed to enjoy Sanrio despite being out of its intended age range.

"The characters are pretty cute." You continue to color on your own.

Wow. A full sentence from you! They really couldn't believe it at first.

"Can I help?" They ask, grabbing a colored pencil without asking.

They seem so happy... it was definitely impossible to say no to something like that.

"Sure." You move your coloring book up to let them color the top half of the drawing.

You both work carefully to ensure you stayed inside the lines to make the coloring look nice. Their job was to color Kuromi's signature hat in her iconic colors. They decide to tackle the larger parts with the black coloring pencil first. You were taking care of the background she was standing in: a Halloween candy wonderland. You alternated between orange and purple for the wrappers in order to fit the theme.

But before you knew it the lunch bell begins to ring again, signaling the end of your lunch break.

"Aww... that sucks. We were almost finished it, too." Sloan pouts.

"There's always tomorrow." You note.

They place the color pencils back into their tin and watched as you carefully pack up all your things. Everything you did seemed so graceful and thoughtful– hardly someone worthy of the rumors of being a serial killer. Or a government spy. Or an animal hater. Where did those comments even come from, anyway? You really didn't seem like you deserved them.

"Oh! I almost forgot. My name is–"

"Sloan." You state. "Miss Ziegler told me."

They shut their mouth again.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You try to gather the courage to sound excited, but in the end it's squelched by anxiety, just like everything else in your life was.

You turn and head towards your next empty class.

"I didn't think I'd ever hear that child talk to someone that wasn't Angela." The school librarian speaks up.

"Mrs. Amari? You were here the whole time?" They ask.

She chuckles to herself. "Where else would I be? Well... the beach sounds nice." They joke. "Now get to class."

"Yes m'am..."

As soon as they exit the library they watch as you make your way down the empty hallway mirrored to everyone else. They could really only hope that things would continue to go as smoothly as they did today.

... but why does their heart feel like it's racing?

Sloan sits down at the table that the two of you shared yesterday. Angela greets them again with the same warm smile she greeted everyone with.

"So, how did it go?" Angela inquires.

"I think it went okay." They reply.

"[Y/N] told me that you found something in common. That's great! Try to get them to come out of their shell a little bit more. Don't be afraid to ask questions, they don't bite." She smiles.

If it wasn't for the conversation you two had yesterday then they certainly would've thought otherwise.

"Speak of the devil. Someone used the side door today!" Angela speaks up and draws attention to you.

Sloan turns around in their seat.

"Sorry." You apologize, once more exchanging seats with your teacher.

"No need to apologize, [Y/N]. You've done nothing wrong." Angela assures you.

"Ah... sorry." You apologize for apologizing.

"Oh, never mind. We'll work on it." Angela reassures you. "You two be good to each other while I'm gone!"

You both watch as she leaves to join your biology teacher waiting in the hallway.

"I'll still never get over the fact that she's dating Miss O'Deorain." They finally speak up.

"Love often finds itself in peculiar places." You reply.

They didn't expect such a poetic response to a nonchalant observation. You casually place your bag on the table and pull out the same coloring book and color pencils as yesterday, as if what you said was no big deal.

"Oh! That reminds me..." Sloan reaches into their dinosaur ita bag and pulls out a candy bar and juice box. "I know you said you didn't like lunch... but I didn't want you to go without eating, either."

They offer it to you and for a moment you don't know what to do with yourself. No one in your entire life had done something so kind for you before. You reach out to take the treats, and by accident the warmth of your fingers brush up against the palm of their hand and you delicately blush from the interaction.

Little did you know it also caused their heart to skip a beat– but why? Why did they feel so nervous all of sudden?

"Thank you." You finally take the gifts and graciously peel open the wrapper to bite down into sugary goodness.

"You're welcome!" A grin lights up their face.

The two of you eat in silence, but this time it wasn't awkward. The quietness was actually a nice change of scenery compared to a crowded lunch hall. They couldn't help but miss seeing their other friends though– but how would you react to seeing two new people you'd never met before?

"Miss Ziegler said I should ask you more questions." They state, placing their empty juice box to the side.

You raise an eyebrow.

"... I can't really think of any." They add– that was a lie, but they're not ready to ask you to hang out with other people just yet.

"My favorite color is [favorite color]. I also like [favorite animal]. My favorite ice cream flavor is [favorite ice cream flavor]. I think that covers everything." You answer.

"... not quite." Sloan grabs the black and pink color pencils and continues working on Kuromi's hat.

"What else could there be?" You wonder.

They don't look up from coloring. "Well... why do you take all your classes by yourself? If it's okay to ask."

"Oh– because of anxiety. It didn't use to be so bad until I transferred here." You explain. "The first day I came here people started gossiping about me. Apparently I'm a serial killer."

Guilt strikes their heart like a lightning bolt. "That's horrible..."

"Well, it's okay. I got used to it pretty fast at least." You tried to sound optimistic while brushing aside your bad memories.

"No! It's not fair. You sound like a really nice person..." They admit.

"I do...?" You're curious about that claim. "How so...?"

"Well, you haven't given me a reason to dislike you so far!" They point out.

You think over their words for a moment. "Hm. There's still plenty of time." You point out.

"I don't think so. I like spending time with you." A soft pink blush lights up their face. "I mean– as your friend!"

You can't help but giggle at the sentiment. "I like spending time with you, too."

"Oh, brother. Get a room." An unknown voice teased from behind a bookshelf.

A cute, punkish girl with a beanie steps into view.

"Kiriko?" Sloan watches as she sits down beside you.

"Illari is here, too. We missed your yapping." She says, and a sigh comes out from behind the same bookshelf that she hid behind.

"Good going, loud mouth. I'm never bringing you to another stake out." She takes the empty seat next to Sloan.

Without hesitation you mentally hide inside yourself and cast your gaze downwards. It was just like the day they first met you, the little light twinkling inside your mind had been shut away once again. They think about reaching out to touch your hand and comfort you, but they decide against it. The last thing they want to do is make you feel worse.

"I don't think you guys are supposed to be here." Sloan says.

"Why not? We just thought we'd stop by and say hey." Kiriko glances over at you. "You're [Y/N], right? What's Sloan tutoring you in?"

You couldn't say anything even if you wanted to.

"I'm actually not tutoring them." They speak up for you instead.

"Oh. So you just decided to abandon us then?" Kiriko jokes.

"No! That's not it..." They sigh out of frustration.

They start to explain the whole situation from the beginning. Meanwhile, your hands are shaking from the stress you're being forced into dealing with.

"[Y/N]? Are you okay?" They add.

Words claw at the inside of your throat and you swallow them. A thousand butterflies blossom in your stomach before you grab your bag and rush out the main door and down the empty hallway, your footsteps echoing against the walls. All that remained was a coloring book and color pencils– seemingly the only proof that you existed at all to anyone else.

Kiriko was the first to speak up. "Oh. My bad..."

"Well, what do we do now?" Illari asks. "Just wait for Miss Ziegler to show back up?"

"I don't think we have a choice." Kiriko adds.

You open the door to the art room without looking at your teachers.

"[Y/N]! Good to see you again!" Niran calls out from his desk.

"Hello Mr. Pruksamanee and Miss Vaswani." You reply back, and take your usual seat in the back of the classroom.

The peace settles on you for a moment. Then, you lay your bag on the table and reach for your coloring book within. Your hand glazes over the empty fabric inside before you realized you had left it behind, and you breathe a heavy sigh of frustration.

"What's wrong, [Y/N]?" Niran sits down in the chair opposite of you.

"I left some things behind at the library. I'll just have to get them later." You respond.

"Oh! I hate it when that happens, but at least you know where you left everything!" He chimes.

"Unlike Niran." Satya teases.

He laughs. A smile draws itself on your face.

"Say– you're still working on your clay scarab for your friend, right? Why not do that in the meantime?" He suggests.

You look towards the back of the classroom at the bone white statue. It still needed to be painted, and you bought a special coat for it that would make it iridescent just like a real scarab.

"I guess that's not a bad idea." You answer, getting up from your seat once more.

You grab your hand sized friend alongside your special paints and a palette to put them on. Niran is kind enough to grab you some new brushes from the closet so you didn't have to reuse the old ones with paint chips littered through out the bristles.

"Satya, your favorite animal is the dragonfly, right?" Niran asks.

"I'm surprised you still remember!" She replies.

"I just find it lovely that there's someone else who finds beauty in insects." He adds.

You begin brushing your figurine in a layer of black paint. This would serve as the base layer for the reflective coat once it dries.

"Say, what's your favorite animal, [Y/N]?" Niran asks.

"[Favorite animal]." You speak up without hesitation.

"Wow! Didn't take long to decide on that. What all do you like about them?" He prods you further.

"I think they're cute!" You answer honestly.

"That much is true!" He agrees.

You finish up the first layer of black paint on the scarab before setting it down on discarded newspaper nearby to let it dry.

"Do you have any other classes today, [Y/N]?" Satya asks.

You dispense a little bit of iridescent overcoat onto your palette. "No. Why?"

Satya looks up at you from her desk. "Why not finish up painting so you can give it to your friend after school?"

You think over her words for a moment before a smile widens on your face. Thinking about their reaction fills you with butterflies again– but this time, they're excited. You can feel the jitters crawl up into your fingers as you pick up the paintbrush for a second time.

"Do you think they'll like it?" You wonder.

"Of course! Why wouldn't they? Anything made by a friend is special regardless of what it is." Satya assures you.

"Okay. I hope you're right." You reply.

She begins writing a note for Sloan in her beautiful handwriting. "I'd bet my job on it."

"I'd bet Satya herself on it." Niran beams.

You apply the finishing touches to your clay scarab before observing it under the lighting. The back of it becomes a glimmering gradient of green to purple, while everything else was painted opaque black to help the gradient stand out even more. The pride of seeing your finished piece swelled in your chest.

"It's wonderful! You did such a good job, [Y/N]!" Niran encourages you with a smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Pruksamanee." You reply.

The final school bell rings and the empty hallway fills with shouting. From the window you can see waves of people coming and going for minutes on end before the noise begins to dwindle.

"Here." Niran fetches a small piece of yellow ribbon from the closet and ties it around your scarabs neck– or its equivalent of one.

"It's perfect. Thank you again, Mr. Pruksamanee."

You hold your bug friend in your hands and look over it one more time.

"Niran, may I speak to you in the back room?" Satya gestures for them to leave before Sloan arrives.

"Very well." Niran places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sure everything will turn out just fine, [Y/N]." He gives it a comforting squeeze before walking off to join Satya in the storage room.

Now it's just you, your scarab, the oncoming silence–

"[Y/N]?" Sloan's voice squeaks from nervousness.

– and the little rainbow nerd standing right outside the door.

You perk up at the sound of their voice.

"[Y/N]! You're okay!" They run up to hug you without a second thought.

You feel a pink blush light up your face as they enclose their arms around you. The connection between the two of you is electrifying, you can almost feel your hair standing on end. Their scent lingers in a delicate cloud– fruity goodness, almost like cereal milk– and you close your eyes to welcome in the affection.

For the first time in a long time you feel yourself wrap your arms around someone who wasn't in your direct lineage. You cannot sincerely remember the last time this had happened. Time briefly pauses for a moment more before they pull away, and you feel yourself already missing their embrace.

"Hugging the serial killer? Oh shit!" Some kids laugh out in the hallway. "They're next for sure!"

... but the words didn't sting as much as they usually did.

"I'm so sorry about what happened earlier. I explained everything to them the best I could– they feel really bad. They didn't know any better." Sloan explains.

You look at them with a smile. "It's okay, I believe you. I'm sorry I ran off like a scaredy cat."

"You don't have to apologize! You've didn't do anything wrong!" They assure you.

Angela's words from earlier echo inside your head. "No need to apologize, [Y/N]. You've done nothing wrong."

"– I almost forgot! You left these in the library." They add, handing your coloring book and color pencils back to you.

"Thank you." You graciously take them back before slipping them both inside your backpack.

"Oh!" They finally notice the hand sized scarab figure on the table. "That's so cute!"

Your blush turns from peach to ruby.

"It's for you." You watch as they pick up their gift and hold it delicately in the palm of their hand. "Do you... like it?" You ask.

They're quiet for a moment as they study your work with a grin on their face.

"Like it?! Please, this is literally perfect! I love it!" They feel tears start to form in the edges of their vision. "But how did you know? I never told you I loved scarabs."

"Mr. Pruksamanee and Miss Vaswani told me. I don't know. I guess I thought about making one for you after that." You clarify.

"You talk about me?" They question.

"Yes– no– not in a bad way!" You start getting nervous.

Sloan only grins, showing off the neon colors adorning their teeth. "You think about me?"

You clasp your hands to your face as shyness overtakes your entire being.

"Yes! No– I mean yes! But, like I said– not in a bad way! Gaah!" You cry out in frustration as you feel a familiar set of arms wrap around you once again.

"You're too sweet!" They comfortingly rub your back as your heart explodes inside of your chest.

Tears begin to stream out from your eyes as they console you to the best of their ability. "I know I've only known you for a couple days, but–" your voice hitches between sobs. "I think you're cool! And nice! And fun to be around!" You admit.

"Aaaawwww!" Sloan squeezes you tighter. "[Y/N]! You're so cute!"

"N-no I'm not!" You play down your compliment in a desperate attempt to save yourself even more embarrassment.

"Yes you are! You're adorable!"

Congratulations! You've officially made it worse– and yet, the kindness rattles around in your brain relentlessly, sending off all sorts of happiness receptors inside that were collecting cobwebs all this time.

"Cute! Adorable! Kawaii! Sweet! Baby! Angel!" They swing your body playfully as your face burns with the power of a thousand white hot suns. "Precious! Little! Sunshine!"

"Now, now– no throttling other students Mx. Cameron!" You hear Niran finally speak up, teasing the two of you for your blatant and shameless PDA.

"I'm not throttling them! I promise!" They let go after being called out.

"Oh my! Spending a little too much time in the sun, are we, [Y/N]?" He adds.

"Niran, please." Satya chides. "Let poor [Y/N] take some breaths. I'm sure they're overwhelmed."

"My apologies. Take all the time you need."

Everyone gives you a little bit of time to regather your thoughts. The minute hand on the clock ticks by slowly, and before anyone knew it, thirty minutes had already flown by. You can hear Sloan's eight bit style text tone going off from their pocket.

"Ah– I guess I gotta go. Thank you again for the scarab [Y/N]–"

"Wait!" You cut them off. "W– would you wanna come over tonight? And maybe watch a movie? Or something?"

The blood rang in your ears as your heart pounded one thousand beats per minute.

The same sparkling grin paints their face from ear to ear. "Would I?!"

You could hardly believe what was happening to you.

"A friend! You finally made a friend!" Your mother cheers, heating up the hot cocoa over the stove.

"Mom! Please!" You beg her to stop being so dramatic before Sloan loses all interest in staying over.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. [last name]!" Sloan looks around your house in awe.

Everything appeared entirely normal– perhaps a little dated, but that's to be expected. No government surveillance equipment. No dead bodies. No headless cats. Just ordinary in every sense of the word.

"Please, just call me [mom's name]!" Your mother replies. "Or maybe even mom at this point!"

Sloan giggles. "You got it, mom!"

You roll your eyes in despair.

"The hot cocoa will be ready in a few minutes. You kids have fun!" Your mother watches as you walk steadfast into your room.

"Awesome! Thanks again, [mom's name]!"

"Please don't encourage her." You beg.

You watch as they flop down on to your bed and snuggle up into your pillows. The stark difference between your darkly decorated bedroom and their rainbow appearance was almost comedic.

"So, what are we watching?" They ask.

"I– I don't know... I didn't think I'd get this far..." You admit.

You pick up the remote and start scrolling through all the options before you find a relatively good looking movie to put on– a horror film about demon zombies.

"Demons and zombies? At the same time? Wow!" They joke.

"Everything has already been done before. What else is there to make and sell?" You reply.

They lay on their side facing the television. "I guess you have a point."

You stand up to dim the lights so that the screen was easier to see.

"Hot cocoa!" Your mother barges into your room without warning, setting two mugs on the nightstand.

"Thanks, mom." You watch as she waves and turns the corner back into the living room.

You sigh in relief before climbing back on to your bed and laying next to your friend as the movie starts.

"I know it's only been a week, but I can't see myself living without you!" The lead female actress cries out. "Please don't leave me here with the demon zombies!"

You stifle a laugh as hoards of sickly looking mutants shuffle across the screen and into the darkness. One of them latches on to a screaming human as it bites into their neck, causing an obnoxious amount of blood to spout from the wound. They fall silent as it continues to eat the gored flesh of its victim.

"Ew..." Sloan mumbles underneath their breath.

Another human has their leg severed out of nowhere by a mysterious falling beam. Several demon zombies feast on the severed appendage before the bleeding human limps away as fast as possible.

"What in the world is this movie even about again?" They question.

"Didn't you read the title? It's about demon zombies." You turn around to face them instead of the screen.

Their gaze is fixated on you– their pulse increasing as your eyes meet theirs. A near uncontrollable urge to reach out and cup your face overtakes them and they use all the willpower they have in their body to hold themself back.

Why? What could possibly be causing them to feel this way?

A peach toned blush paints across their face.

"Are you scared? Need me to hold your hand?" You tease.

They don't reply right away. Instead, they think about when your hand brushed theirs in the library earlier today. The same rush of emotions they felt then were beginning to return in this moment.

"Of course I'm not scared! Why would I be scared?" They jump on the defensive. "Are you scared?" They playfully mock you instead.

A giggle stirs from your lips. You're so cute– oh no! It's too early for them to start thinking like that. You're just friends. Miss Ziegler told them to just be friends with you. So that's what they're doing of course– just being friends.

Friends.

Your hand reaches out to touch theirs and they instantly latch on with zero hesitation. The warmth and softness of your skin was just as noticeable as it was all those hours ago.

Friends.

"Can I be honest with you for a minute?" You don't let Sloan reply before speaking up again. "I know it's only been a couple days, but I'm glad you decided to not give up on me, and be my friend."

Right. Friends.

"No one at school has ever been as nice to me as you've been. I'm thankful for that. And for you, too."

The word ricochets inside their skull like a bullet.

"I know it's still a little early to say what I really want to say. So, if I do what I'm about to do... you won't tell anyone, right?"

Your face leans in close to theirs.

"Right?" You ask one more time.

"R-right–" They reassure you.

Your eyes gently close before your lips press softly against theirs. A second passes– then two, then five, then ten– before you pull away and recast your eyes on their crimson colored face. Their free hand flies up to their lips in disbelief. The fireworks inside their body light up simultaneously as the realization settles on them. The words you want to say continue to dance on the edge of your tongue.

"C-can I have one more? I won't tell anyone–" Sloan asks– or pleas, more like.

You repeat the process one more time and the two of you quietly gaze at each other afterwards. The lead actress on television holds desperately on to her love interest as the two of them overlook the burning city crawling with the demonic undead.

"I know it's still early– but I love you. If we survive this, will you still love me?" She wonders.

"Of course. I will always love you–" The protagonist happily returns her affection. "– but don't tell anyone. Not yet. Not until all of this is over."

"So! How have you two been getting along?" Angela inquires, noticing how you've moved to sit next to Sloan instead of in front of them.

You glance at your 'secret' admirer for a second before smiling.

"Good." Is all that comes out.

"That's wonderful! I'm glad everything is working out between you two." She smiles warmly, just as she always has.

"I talked to Illari and Kiriko and they would still love to meet you, [Y/N]. Would you like to try talking to them again today?" She adds.

You nod.

She stands up and heads towards the door. "Super! I'll let them know they can come in. You kids be on your best behavior, alright?"

"Yes m'am!" You both say in unison.

Both girls you saw yesterday enter as Angela leaves for her daily lunch date.

"Oh~ what's with that face, hmm?" Kiriko points out with a sly expression.

"What face? It's just my face!" Sloan defends themself before turning away to avoid drawing any more attention.

You can't help but laugh.

"There's something you're not telling us. I have a feeling I know what it is, though." Illari states.

You brush your hand against Sloan's underneath the table. A finger wraps itself around one of yours as their face begins to glow from embarrassment.

"I can't tell you. Not yet." You smirk.

The truth is that nothing needed to be said– because it was already written across their flustered little face.

[fandoms-in-law]

I've not seen it spoken about much, but Edwin has a level of superiority over the suffering he's survived for most of the series that he only really faces head on in Simon.

With the ghosts he meets Edwin is compassionate, but detached pretty much all the time except with Charles after he realises the abuse his best friend had gone through, and with Simon.

With Crystal, he's seen that comparing suffering faced causes more hurt but she lashes back, calls him out on it and dismisses him, which even though it's not just because of it I bet Edwin wondered if it was punishing him, just like he did to her in the first episode, refusing to let him help after her nightmare.

With Charles, Edwin is a lot more invested in him, in wanting to help him through this pain he'd never known Charles still carried. So Edwin is validating the suffering now, acknowledging that this is trauma that he needs to help heal, and given the moments addressing it come after Crystal's nightmare, he doesn't mention hell, or do anything close to comparing openly as he would around friends. Because yes, mentioning Hell freely, in scoffs and dismissals only around friends if Edwin's way of reclaiming it, but he's now accepting that there are times to avoid doing so for others benefit too.

And then comes the scene with Simon, probably the person he has most reason to hate, or judge the suffering of, as Simon's the one who caused Edwin to go to hell.

That scene in Hell, and the one with Depression, are pivotal moments with Edwin but I don't think it's acceptance that homosexuality isn't sinful as much as it is realisation that he can't compare suffering or pain.

This is his killer, the boy who sacrificed him, and Edwin has been able to access his part of hell, which I don't think is normal. He knows only people who've been in hell can see the souls in the different parts, explains it to Charles when they're leaving, but didn't expect to meet someone he knew there.

Simon even calls him a vision to torment him, or something similar. Hell doesn't give people reprieves from torture, it just makes them the torture for somebody else and that's what Edwin figures out while meeting Depression. His reactions were increasing her power in the situation

And yes, the note in the bottom of the page stuns Edwin, shocks him that even back then, someone had noticed him, wanted him

But also it expands just what Simon's torture is from papercuts, practically shredded fingertips from tearing the pages out, to emotional as well.

That's when Edwin says that holding onto guilt or fear makes everywhere hell (I'm paraphrasing anything cause I'm tired), he acknowledges that hell isn't the same for him and Simon but that doesn't change the amount they suffer.

All the posts I've seen like to focus on the gay, the homosexuality acceptance and closure here, but Edwin's journey to see everyone's suffering as different and valid without comparison to his hell was the bigger thing in the scene for me.

He has suffered immensely and unjustly, but he held himself detached under the belief that meant anyone else's suffering was lesser, wasn't as valid. Now he's accepted that isn't the case.

And honestly, yes, can't deny that Edwin saying homosexuality isn't wrong was likely the part that enabled Simon to reach the nicer afterlife, it was also the fact Simon's suffering wasn't judged lacking. The headmaster came and it turned out to just be Edwin, saying he could go.

[7-wonders]

Literally, if Calliope held my face and gave the affection that’s described in World We Dream About, I would fucking die. All I can think about is how the reader could only wonder how Morpheus would ever separate himself from someone as tender, gentle, and utterly radiant as her-

(Read more of my Calliope/Morpheus/Reader stuff here!)

"Can I ask you something?"

You're sitting in the gardens of the palace of the Dreaming with the Lord of Dreams himself, who slowly looks up at you over the top of his book (some report on a nightmare doing who knows what) like you're a nuisance. You know that's not the case though, since he's the one that sought you out and invited you to join him.

After your...memorable first meeting with Morpheus, followed by a tearful goodbye with the woman goddess who had been your roommate for the past few months, you had never been expecting to see either again. They were important beings of myth and legend, after all—you were just a regular human. Practically nothing compared to them! That's why it was so surprising when you went to sleep barely a week later and found yourself face-to-face with the Sandman once more.

"I owe you a boon, whether you believe yourself worthy or not," he said. "And I imagine that you have many questions relating to the information you received that fateful night. Therefore, you may ask me your questions, and I shall do my best to answer them."

He was right, of course. You did have questions. So many of them that it almost made your head spin when you tried to think of the first one that you wanted to ask. But ask you did, and he dutifully answered each and every one of them.

It was definitely appreciated, and you felt that the conversation gave you a lot of answers and closure to this chapter of your life. In your mind, it was the end of a chapter. Calliope was gone, off to Greece and Mount Olympus and her sisters with no sign that you would ever see her again. Morpheus had deigned to meet with you once more, and now that his perceived obligation was fulfilled, you expected that to be the end of any sort of magic in your life.

But then you saw him again.

And again.

And again.

Now, you see him at least once a week. Each time, he comes to you in your dreams, and each time, he acts as though he's simply being charitable by offering Calliope's human friend some company. You know that's not the case, though. No, Morpheus will never admit it, but you think he's lonely. And now that you both have a shared person, that gives him a connection with someone...even if that someone is the mortal that his ex-wife found herself accidentally belonging to in what you can say in retrospect was a true comedy of errors.

"You just did," he points out cheekily.

You remain unamused and roll your eyes. "C'mon, you know what I mean."

He nods. "I do. Continue."

"Please don't answer if it makes you uncomfortable, but I'm curious. Why...why did you and Calliope break up?" How did you manage to so severely fumble the bag? is what you really want to ask. "I mean, she's Calliope."

What you mean by, "she's Calliope," is, of course, that she's Calliope. Beautiful and kind, wise and strong, charming and witty, and a whole dictionary's worth of other characteristics that can only hope to capture who she is. You had never met a person like her before, and you doubt you'll ever meet somebody like her again.

Most mortals wouldn't dare to speak to an Endless like you just did. Unfortunately, prior experience has made you bold, and you know now that Morpheus is begrudgingly fond of you and therefore won't smite you if you overstep. Somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling so wary of the Dreamlord. Now, you like to think that your relationship is something close to a sort of friendship.

(If you're being honest with yourself, lately your feelings for Morpheus are complicated, as are your feelings for Calliope. That's a conversation for another day, and it definitely does not factor into your current conversation, thank you very much.)

A small, small smile plays on his lips, Morpheus understanding exactly what you mean. "Yes, she is. We were both much younger in the days of our marriage, if one as young as yourself can believe such a thing."

You appreciate that he's trying to find a bit of humor in what is assuredly a heavy moment, so you smile encouragingly at him.

"Mistakes were made by both of us throughout the course of our relationship, myself more. Ultimately, it was..." Morpheus pauses, and when he speaks again, it's much quieter. "In the end, the loss of our son proved too much for us to overcome together."

Well, now you feel bad. Calliope had only talked to you about Orpheus a handful of times, but with what little information you have, you know just how loved he was by his parents, and just how devastated they still remain by what happened. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

He shakes his head. "When last we parted, Calliope suggested to me that it would be wise for us to talk about Or—our son together. That remembering him might help to be able to properly grieve." Morpheus says that last word like it's foreign to him. It probably is, actually. "I am starting to find that she is right."

"She's right a lot. It's kind of annoying," you commiserate.

This helps to break the heaviness that talking about death (not Death) and loss brings, and Morpheus lets out a breath in his version of a laugh. "She does tend to be right fairly often."

Now that your question is answered and you know that you didn't just ruin his day, you gesture towards his book. "Okay, I won't bother you anymore, promise."

"You are not nearly as bothersome as you believe yourself to be." He gets a look in his starry eyes when he says this, one that conveys there is much more being left unsaid within this single sentence.

His confession makes your chest feel warm, and you try not to act as pleased as you are. "I'll endeavor not to change that, then."

[eisforeidolon]

Hellers are twisting Jensen's words around because they don't like what he said,

"He doesn't think Cas's confession is something that needs to be solved. Cas said what he needed to say. It was a long time coming, it was heartfelt and beautiful. But there's nothing to solve. Dean took it in and then lost one of his closest allie and friend. The acceptance of that happened when Dean sat on the floor. He lost one of his brothers in arms and one of his closest people. When they come back, it just understood."

First, a sampling of posts with screenshots and links of some of the creative reinterpretations they're already self-soothing with, for context: [X][X][X]

It's bad enough now, because we already knew they were obsessed with cherry-picking things completely out of context and twisting themselves in knots to insist D/C, a totally real most epic romance ever was obviously happening off-screen the whole time. Because that's totally how storytelling works!🙄 So why wouldn't they insist Jensen saying Castiel's dying blather doesn't need a resolution means Dean already turned into the YA romance protagonist from their fanfic realized he was totes in lurve with the angel and reciprocated offscreen! See, no resolution needed! The thing is, though, I believe Purcon is one that has a stricter video policy so I expect this to end up even more broken-telephoned in a couple of months when there's no video to dispute whatever they're making up by that point, which I expect to be pretty wild.

What Jensen reportedly said fits exactly into what Castiel actually said in Misha & Beren's tapdancing on the line of legit queerbaiting the audience Castiel's goodbye speech. The whole climactic reason the Empty could come take the angel away was because he realized that just ~*feeling feelings*~, without having anything come of it, was enough. Regardless of whether you interpret those feelings as romantic love or the kind of all-encompassing self-sacrificing love the Winchesters have, feeling that way about somebody is happiness in itself (even if they don't feel that way about you). So yeah, whatever kind of love you read that to mean? There's nothing to inherently resolve there. Castiel put his feelings out in the universe, and Dean listened and moved on with his life. The thing that was "a long time coming" was Castiel's resolving his struggles as an angel living among humans trying to understand emotions and friendship. It's "clear text" that Castiel said I love you (whatever kind of love you interpret that to be).

Hellers are the only ones who desperately need there to have to be a resolution to that scene, because the only interpretation in which a followup would be necessary? Would be if Castiel's speech was romantic AND Dean also had romantic feelings. They can pretend they suddenly don't understand what a resolution is or that one magically (like the entire rest of their supposedly canon ship) happened off-screen so it'll be already happening in the revival as much as they want. It doesn't change what the scene actually was or what Jensen actually said, any more than the rest of their waffle ever has. They're just happily lying to themselves and each other all over again, setting themselves back up for more eternal disappointment. It's like a Peanuts comic strip, except they are both Charlie and Lucy with the show and creators as the football.

They want to crow about Jensen not explicitly saying the scene wasn't about romantic love somehow being him changing his mind (again), but that's absurd. He knows some people interpret Castiel's feelings as romantic and are very invested in the angel being a queer character. Putting aside whether what's in the text deserves that, going out of his way to tell them they're wrong about someone else's character? Would be a really bad look given the sensitivity of the topic. And he doesn't need to do it anyway, because whatever Castiel's ~*feelings*~ are, it says nothing about what Dean does or doesn't feel. Which he directly says is that Dean lost "one of his closest allies" "one of his best friends" "a brother in arms" "one of the closest people to him". It's pretty clear - if you don't tie yourself in knots pretending he's sending you secret signals about what he REALLY means if you only listen to half the words he said.

[s4ndg3m]

hear me out on scag x split guys. they both start with "s" it's practically canon.

[ask-richard-jackdaw]

[Just a general reminder for those who roleplay: make sure you don't dictate other characters' actions and feelings in your asks and replies ☺️ Nobody wants to have their autonomy taken away! If you really want to make your intent known, instead of writing "He hugs her" try "He makes a move to hug her", "He attempts to hug her", "You can see it in his eyes that he wants to hug her", and so on. That way the other character can change the narrative if they are uncomfortable 🫂. But even in that case they are not obligated to reply and you should respect that.

And if you think that nobody is interested in your blog — I guarantee it's not the case! Chances are, not that many people know about your OC/MC/character you play so try to put yourself out there! Engage with people! Send asks, write replies, do reblogs, DM if you have any questions or if it puts your mind at ease before plunging into rp! I know it's hard if you're a shy or reserved person. But nobody else can solve this for you 🫂 ]

[im-a-chunky-potato]

Insults are becoming so boring nowadayssss

Like come on. Pull out a dictionary. Make me have to google whatever you say. Give me something unique and with flair!

[brightsuzaku]

An Ode to the Suddenly-Remembered Formative Blorbos of my Life

Or maybe it's just a long post nobody will read! A very long time ago, when I was 11 or 12, and a tiny angry misanthropic child, I read a story on either fanfiction.net or on its own website an original story about a girl and her friend, a spaceship guy named I think Libra 279.

You know stories that take you away somewhere else in an adventure? The transportative power of the written word? And how that helps you?

And also is the reason you keep looking for more science fiction with "spaceships being fully-realized major characters" for like half your life?

I cannot search for this story anymore. It had original art, either drawn by the author or submitted by another fan. It had its own web page. It was a labor of love by its author.

It existed in my earliest memories online, and woe! I bestow it upon you!

Amidst the chaos of my moving from one state to another at that age (which interrupted so many routines and I somehow dropped off reading both Animorphs AND Diadem and got into manga), I also lost track of Libra and that story, which had gone into hiatus.

The characters were beginning to see the presence of danger bigger than they were, with connections to Libra's own horrific past (which he mostly suppressed) called the Zodiac Chasers. We'd already met Leo, and Leo was an asshole, if I remember correctly.

And now I don't know if anyone else remembers this story, but it's like 90% the reason WHY I am like this now. Whoever wrote this story, I hope you're doing well, I hope you're still doing cool things, I hope you know you have shaped and changed my entire life when I was like 12.

[andthebeanstalk]

My first time watching Glass Onion it was obvious that Miles' speeches were bullshit, but I still searched for any hidden meaning there might be.

The second time is a different experience though because every time my brain starts to search for meaning, I feel like Benoit Blanc discovering that no, there is absolutely no hidden meaning.

It's bullshit it's all nothing nothing nothing! It is just how you end up talking when everyone reacts to your self-aggrandizing word vomit like it is actually wisdom.

Also, legit, when Miles gave his stupid bullshit speech about what the word 'disruptor' means to him, I shit you not I was like holy shit am I back in business school right now?!

Miles must have given speeches like that at 100 business school graduations, goddamn.

Like, the motherfuckers really do sound like this. We didn't have any billionaires come, but we had a lot of millionaire guest speakers in my classes, and they fucking talk like that.

They all think they're rugged capitalists, but they're just glass onions!

[pegglefan69]

I did not realize how disappointed I was about having to wait a whole nother month to start prep. well. sigh. at least I got my nipples pierced? when I am not feeling awful about my physical self I feel pretty good about that.

[melit0n]

"The more that I grow, the more that I've come to know; it's hard to be someone and it hurts to be nobody."

[scottstiles]

STORYLINE: Coworker friends forever (CFFs) Kydd and Felixx are top detectives at the paranormal spooky investigation agency Psi Cops, where they solve mysteries and supernatural crimes using their overly competent incompetence.

so............basically an animated destiel comedy as goofy yet effective paranormal detectives why is nobody talking about this? which heller is responsible for this?

LOOK AT THESE TWO

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

Radfems and Alt-right'ers aligning with each other is one of the most incredible things to come out of the 21st century lmao

[mildmayfoxe]

i was going to have a beautiful bowl of fruit and granola and pineapple cottage cheese but when i opened my fresh new cottage cheese container it was MOLDY 😭😭 and the friends i messaged about market reccs haven't answered me!! and it's gray and cold out!!!!!!!!!!

[lyxchen]

I am going feral while listening to Imogen, Obviously right now!!! Like girl, Imogen I Love you but you're so deep in denial!! "If i was queer I'd be into her" babygirl you ARE into her!!! You have a massive fucking crush!!!! You are not appropriating queer culture by Having A Crush On A Girl!!!!!! Because you Are Queer♡♡♡♡♡