#like it's FINE if you don't know that but. it is a minute point that is nonetheless important to me not to repeat. ANYWAY.
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due to stuff involving a goat, the only thing that can save the pines family is sticking bill cipher in a cute dress, doing weird 70's things to his hair, slapping makeup on him, and sending him to flirt with a government agent
and if that ain't a setup for a chapter i don't know what is
anyway here's chapter 86 of this thing.
####
"Something about this is just wrong," Stan said. "It isn't natural."
"Oh, I don't know," Ford said, grinning. "I think it's funny."
Without looking over, trying not to move his lips, Bill said, "I'd like to see you do better."
It was still a few minutes until the Mystery Shack opened for the day, and he and Mabel were sitting in the kitchen, with Bill miserably wearing a mis-buttoned Hawaiian shirt so he wouldn't mess up his makeup when he changed into his flirting uniform. The makeup supplies Pacifica had sent them home with yesterday were spread out on the kitchen table, and they were collaboratively trying to remember how to recreate the look Pacifica had given Bill yesterday. Thus far, they'd managed moisturizer and foundation and were debating the finer points of concealer color theory.
"I didn't say it's bad," said Ford, whose opinions on makeup only fell into three categories: obviously hideous; fine, I guess; and potentially magical sigils for ritual purposes. "It's just bizarre watching you care about it."
Bill mumbled, "I'm blending in with the Nacirema." Ford barked a laugh. (About time somebody got it.)
Stan elbowed Ford. "What's a Nacirema?"
"It's— There's this phenomenon in anthropology— I'll explain it later."
Stan grumbled to himself about the nerds enabling each other, then said, "Hey. When you do the lipstick, don't make it look too good. If it looks too good, he'll assume you're out of his league and get suspicious when you start hitting on him. I never trust attention from a lady whose lipstick isn't at least a little cakey."
Offended, Mabel said, "Grunkle Stan, I'm an artiste! I can't do a bad job on purpose!"
Bill said, "It doesn't matter! Once I get my seduction hat on, he won't even glance at my face." He poked the top hat sitting on the kitchen table.
"Oh, no you don't," Stan said. "Hat's gotta go, it's too tall. Guys hate it when their dates are taller than them."
"What?!" Bill stared at Stan, aghast. "You've gotta be insane! The hat's essential—"
"Hold still!" Mabel poked his neck with the butt of a makeup brush.
He reluctantly gave up and turned to face her again, but not without muttering to himself, "Can't wear a seduction hat, can't stick my hand in a goat's stomach acid, god forbid women do anything."
Last night's hunt for Gompers had been an abysmal failure—Dipper and Mabel had never even glimpsed him. This morning, beneath the banter, there was a somber air in the room; the household was trying not to think about the fact that their collective safety was resting on Bill's ability to seem appealing to a normal man in spite of the fact that they were having a conversation, and he wasn't even able to convincingly pretend he had a plan.
Dipper was trying to get breakfast around Bill and Mabel. Once Mabel had puffed on a layer of setting powder, Bill twisted around to give Dipper an unnecessarily wide smile. "Hey! How do I look?"
He glanced up from pouring a bowl of cereal and grimaced. "Somehow even less like a real human than usual."
Bill laughed. "Yep, it's the lack of pores." He turned away to check his mirror as he applied his mascara.
Mabel said, "He'll look better once we get the lipstick on."
Soos ducked in from the living room. "Hey, uh, guys?" It was clear he'd been as distracted that morning as the rest of them; he'd misbuttoned his suit jacket. "I just saw the government dudes' car again. Like, in the parking lot this time, not lurking down the street."
The energy in the air changed, like a subtle electric current shooting through the room. "Okay, enough gawking at the freak show," Stan said. "Ford?"
"Right!" He grabbed up his coffee mug, re-thought it, and poured the mug back in the coffee pot and picked up the pot instead, then bolted from the kitchen. He returned a moment later with his arms loaded with his journal, several books, and a couple of guns that would definitely be illegal on Earth if Earth had ever heard they existed. "Basement."
Bill turned toward the doorway so fast Mabel almost smeared lipstick across his cheek. Basement? He hoped Ford meant his study. If they went all the way to the basement, and noticed that somebody had been moving around the rubble of the portal...
"Bill!" Mabel said.
"I know, I know." He turned back to her again.
A final line, and Mabel sighed in relief. "Okay, you're good."
Stan rummaged through the fridge for the first thing he could find to sustain himself and Ford for the day. "Hey, demon. Remember everything I taught you."
"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. "Don't claim I have a job he can fact-check, don't pretend I make more money than him unless I want him to invite me to a fancy restaurant and pretend he forgot his wallet, if he asks my age I'm fifteen years younger than him, my human family lives across the country, I don't have any sisters that might be prettier, and there's nothing I wanna hear about more than World War 2 battle tactics or vintage car repair or whatever hobby he's picked up to make himself feel more masculine."
"And?" Mabel prompted.
"And my favorite animal is cats, my favorite color is pink, my favorite flavor is chocolate, my favorite film genre is not slapstick snuff, my favorite time to get married is next week, and my favorite body part on a partner is their eyes still inside their sockets, but if I specify the socket part it'll worry him."
"Right! Gold star!" She smacked a sticker onto his shirt.
Stan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Knock 'im dead," he said. "Not literally. Unless you're sure the other two won't catch you."
"I'll see what I can do," Bill said.
####
The three agents eyed the sign that had been set up outside the Mystery Shack's main door. It said, "Self-guided tour today! $15" and there was a cardboard box taped beneath with a slit cut in the lid.
Agent Dale said, "Do you think that's for us?"
"Probably not," Trigger said uncertainly. "We have a warrant."
"Huh." Dale reread the sign, then tentatively rummaged through his pocket for his wallet and pulled out three fives. Trigger pushed his hand back down.
Soos ran around the side of the shack, breathing heavily. "Oh, wow! What a... totally random coincidence... running into you guys again..." He put his hands on his knees, huffing. "Gimme a sec. I was... running pretty fast... for no reason."
"Mr. Ramirez," Powers said. He held out a search warrant. "We're here to search this building for missing government property."
"Oh, dude, that's crazy," Soos said. "Do you like, have evidence that this property is in the building? Like, I don't know, any kind of... signal that it's giving off, maybe? That confirms it's here?"
Powers turned to Dale. He pulled his tablet out to check. "Uhhh... negative, sir. We're nnnot detecting the signal we picked up yesterday."
Powers frowned. "Hmm."
Trigger said, "Maybe the signal's... on the fritz?"
"Good point," Powers said. "We'd better search anyway. Dale, you start in the museum; Trigger, come with me to the back. I'll interview Mr. Ramirez." He gave Soos a sharp look. "And I hope you'll have more to say today than that you don't know anything."
Soos swallowed hard.
####
From the living room couch, Soos called to Trigger, "Be careful with the stuff in here, okay? This old shack's full of priceless antiques and authentic exotic curios. I glued half of them together myself!"
"So." Powers took a seat in one of the armchairs, opened an unlabeled manila folder and propped it on his knee, and clicked out a retractable pen. "Jesús Ramirez, correct? You prefer 'Soos'?"
"Yep, that's right," Soos said. "When I started school, my cousin Reggie, he'd yell at me across the cafeteria to sit with him, like, 'Jesús!' But some of the kids in my grade thought he was saying, 'hey, Soos!' And it stuck."
Powers nodded slowly. "I... see. And, you're the head of the household."
"Yup! That's me!"
"Property records say that the house is owned by 'Stanford Pines'?"
"Uhhh, yeah," Soos said. "He kinda, stepped down as head of the house, unofficially, and I'm running the house now. Also the business."
"And where is Stanford Pines right now?"
"Oh, he's out." (They had agreed that under no circumstances could the agents talk to Stan, lest something from last summer come up; and they definitely couldn't talk to the real Stanford Pines, whom they already knew as a mysterious superior officer from Washington.)
"When will he be back?"
Soos hesitated. "Ooout of the country. World traveling. Yeah, haha, he's been doing that for the past year with his brother."
Powers flipped a couple pages forward in his file. "His brother Sherman? Who lives in New Jersey?"
"No no, his other brother."
His other brother who died thirty years ago?"
Soos paused. "Uhhh..."
Dale ducked into the living room. "Sirs—I've found something interesting. You have to come see this."
Powers got to his feet, closing his folder and tucking it under his arm. "Excuse me." He followed his agents.
Soos heaved a sigh of relief.
"Wow, Questiony,—you were this close to collapsing like a house of cards."
Bill sauntered down the stairs. He was in a dress covered in yellowy-orangey triangles that managed, for the first time all summer, to reveal that he did in fact have curves, and he'd grabbed a set of green triangular clip-on earrings from Mabel's jewelry. A gold star sticker had been stuck on one of the earrings. Soos thought it was kinda weird to look at him all dressed up, with hair and everything. Bill looked like if Bill had a sister.
"Man," Soos said, slumping back into the couch. "I don't know if I can take another round of that. They're using some kind of government interrogation mind tricks."
"Relax," Bill said. "I'll take it from here."
He shut one eye and shot Soos a pair of finger guns as he backed into the gift shop, and twirled around to go pursue his prey.
####
Dale jogged through the gift shop, nodding to a couple of tourists as he passed—"Morning, ladies"—and ducked through the "employees only" door. A moment later, all three agents jogged into the museum. An older woman asked, "Why are so many handsome men in suits running around?"
As Bill let himself into the gift shop, he said, "Secret government agents! They're here investigating a conspiracy."
"Oh my," the woman gushed. "Isn't that exciting!"
"They'll only be here today! See if you can get their autographs!" Bill leaned on the front counter. "Hey, nice to see you back. You were missed yesterday."
Melody gave him an irritated look from behind the register.
"Surprised you came in, after how you felt yesterday!" In part because Soos was attempting to get as many people away from the shack and out of the danger zone as possible. He'd told Wendy she could take the day off, he'd persuaded Abuelita to go visit Reggie and his wife, and he'd tried to talk the kids into hanging out somewhere else for the day and only relented when they argued that their plucky 13-year-old adventuring expertise could be useful if things took a turn for the worse. Surely, he'd asked his fiancée to stay home too; strange that she hadn't. "Word is you're having trouble sleeping. Bad dreams? If it is, I could help you out. I happen to be an expert on—"
"I don't want your help." Her voice was a lot more venomous than Bill had expected.
He blinked in surprise. He knew she wasn't his biggest fan, but that seemed unnecessarily hostile. "Whoa, just offering! Don't bite my head off. Those don't grow back."
Melody sighed. "Sorry," she said insincerely, looking away from him. "I just... This whole plan bothers me. Flirting with some poor guy just to distract him."
Don't lie to a liar, girl. Something else was bothering her. Still, Bill only said, "Do you have a better plan?"
"Yeah? Just don't do anything suspicious and make sure Gompers stays away from the shack until the agents get bored and leave."
Bill scoffed. "And if they don't get bored?"
"Why wouldn't they?"
"Why would they? This town's got gnomes, fairies, and a crashed spaceship."
"Well—yeah, but, that's not a reason to focus on the shack."
"Never underestimate what the government will chuck tax dollars at without a good reason!"
Melody huffed, "Okay, fine. I still don't like it."
Yeah, Bill bet she didn't. Especially with the Bureau of Covert Investigations here looking for someone dangerous.
Okay—he'd given the eagles enough of a head start for it to look natural when he casually bumped into them. He straightened up, stretched, and sauntered toward the museum's curtain. "I won't ask you to wish me luck—" he lifted one wrist toward Melody and shook the bracelet covered in evil eye beads that Mabel had given him, "—just don't wish me ill." And then he followed the agents into the museum.
####
"Here it is," Dale said, stopping. "What do you make of this?"
He was standing in front of the museum's taxidermy Sascrotch display.
Trigger covered his mouth, trying to hold back a snort of laughter.
Dale grinned. "It's pretty great, right?"
Powers looked the Sascrotch up and down. "I don't get it."
"Heeey, secret agent man!" Bill swept into the museum and leaned against the wall, head propped against his hand, other hand on his cocked hip. "Imagine meeting you three days in a row, what a coincidence! I'm starting to feel like you're following me around."
Powers looked at Bill—and then started a little. (Not used to seeing him with his eyes emphasized properly, no doubt.) His cheeks immediately turned pink. Flustered, he stammered awkwardly for a moment before getting out, "I—I—Pardon me, I can assure you, you're not under investigation—" Dale and Trigger exchanged a glance and tried not to grin.
"Hey, whoa! I didn't mean it in a bad way." He flashed Powers his best smile. (He'd practiced in the mirror. Mabel had given him tips on not making it too wide.) "Say, since I was lucky enough to see you again, I've got a question for you, secret agent man."
"Yes?"
Bill batted his long, gorgeous lashes at Powers. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or am I gonna have to arrange a fourth meeting?"
"Uhh." Powers's already stellar posture somehow found a way to straighten a little bit more. "The first three times were more than sufficient, ma'am."
"Haha, you charmer!" All right, maybe Mabel had had a point about not opening up with a line about eyeballs. Still, this would be a cinch. Bill had been manipulating humans for millennia, and flirting was no different. Slipping into this role felt natural. He was in his element. He was good at this. He'd have this guy eating out of his hand in an hour.
Dale and Trigger looked at each other again, and Dale said, "Sir, maybe Trigger and I should search the house. You can take the museum."
"Maybe you could interview the locals," Trigger threw in, before they beat a hasty retreat.
"Ho—hold on!" Powers said; but his agents had already abandoned him. What terrific wingmen. Not the best agents, maybe.
"Sooo," Bill said, "if you aren't here to see me, what brings you by this old dump of a tourist trap again? It can't be the displays." He tugged out the waistband of Sascrotch's briefs with a finger and let go, letting it snap back against its waist; a small cloud of dust puffed out of the fur. "Still looking for some dangerous character?"
"No, not at the moment. Nothing you need to worry about," Powers said. "We're here looking for some... sensitive objects?"
"Oh? What kind of sensitive objects?" Bill asked. "I've been to this little tourist trap a few times, maybe I can help find 'em?"
"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say."
"What, you don't think you can trust me?" Bill batted his lashes. That had been working pretty well for him so far. (The mascara had to be helping. Man, was he glad to have mascara again.)
Powers avoided making eye contact. "I"m sure you're very trustworthy. But—it would be an embarrassment to the bureau, you understand."
"Sure! Sure." Billl's smile wilted slightly. "Well—I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I just watch, would you? I've never seen a real federal investigation in action—seems exciting."
Powers hesitated, his professionalism warring with his very obvious crush. "I... suppose I wouldn't mind." Sure, like he wasn't utterly flattered.
As Powers's inspection took him around the museum and back into the gift shop, he said, "You said your name was Goldie? I don't think I ever got your last name."
Oh he'd better not be planning on a background check. "It's Locke—and yes, I've already heard every comment about it you can imagine."
Powers gave him a quizzical look. "I believe you told us to inform Mr. Gleeful that a 'Mr. Locke' had recommended we purchase a car from him?"
He had said that, hadn't he. If he'd known two days ago he'd have to femme up for this guy... "Sure! I happen to be related to a lot of Mr. Lockes!" Before Powers could pry into this family Bill had just invented, he hurried on: "Say, I never got your name, did I!" Did he? Since he already knew it, he couldn't remember if he'd bothered to ask.
"Of course—I'm Agent Powers."
"Is 'Agent' your first name, handsome?"
Powers flushed a little more, and he mumbled, "Manny."
"Manny Powers?" Bill casually slid between Powers and the vending machine to keep him from looking too close at it. "Like, 'manpower'?"
"Precisely," Powers said. "Obviously, that's... not my real name, just my assigned codename for field assignments."
Bill laughed, "Hey, not bad! 'Manpower,' that's pretty funny."
"Is it?" Powers asked. "Hm. It isn't supposed to be. I'll have to speak with HQ about that."
Bill pressed his lips together. Tell him he's funny, Bill! Guys love it when you tell them how funny they are! Last time hetook advice from a human on anything. He shot an exasperated look toward Melody, who winced in what he hoped was sympathy.
Trigger ducked into the gift shop. "Sir? I think we've found something. Really, this time."
Powers's attention snapped to him. "Show me."
Bill maintained his position until the agents were gone; and then he let out a long, frustrated sigh. He glanced at Melody. "How are we doing?"
She grimaced. "I'd give it... three out of five stars?"
"You're generous, I appreciate that." He nearly rubbed his eyelids in irritation, and only the sight of his red fingernails reminded him of his makeup in time to stop.
In his heart of hearts, Bill felt like he should have already won by now—but then, he'd always hated waiting for things. Usually he could force patience on himself by finding a peephole that would let him see further into the future so he could tell exactly when his latest plan would succeed. In this body, he couldn't see any farther than a few minutes, and he didn't have any eyes he could look through but his own. Like this, he didn't even know whether he'd succeed.
Except of course he would. Of course. He always did. He didn't need to check. He had until the agents left to make some real progress, and that was plenty of time. He'd figure this out.
He almost backed into the living room, remembered at the last second that he didn't want Melody to know about his door ignoring trick, and said flatly, "Door." Melody reluctantly left her station to help open it.
In the living room, Dale was standing on top of the table, which he'd dragged over in front of the TV, and attempting to pry a board out of the ceiling with a crowbar. He asked Soos, "You're sure you don't have a stepladder somewhere?"
"Uh-uh," Soos said. He was hovering in the doorway, wringing his hands together. "It's against the house rules."
"We picked up a faint radio signal," Trigger explained to Powers. "Like from a walkie-talkie with a dying battery, or..."
"Ah-ha!" Dale pulled a gray blocky object out of a space over the ceiling. It appeared to be a radio: it had an antenna, a speaker, a couple of glowing lights flickering on the brink of going out... and a large Bureau of Covert Investigations seal stamped on the front. The eagle peering through the magnifying glass seemed as surprised to see them as they were to see it. "Is... is this one of our transmitters?"
Powers blinked at it in amazement. "What in the Sam Hill is one of our transmitters doing in this building!" He directed the question toward Soos.
Soos flinched. "How should I know, I didn't know this place was bugged! I would've unbugged it if I knew." He paused. "Unless that's a federal crime or something. In which case forget I said that."
"We're the guys that oughta know about it," Dale said, shrugging cluelessly. "Since it's one of ours. Weird."
Powers held his hand out for the transmitter, examined it, and turned it over. On the back a strip of black label-maker tape read, "GOVERNMENT PROPERTY! IF LOST, PLEASE RETURN TO AGENT TRIGGER."
Powers and Dale turned to Trigger.
He looked between them, baffled. "Wh— Well, I didn't put it there! I would've remembered putting it there." He frowned. "I mean... I should remember putting it there."
Powers's lips were pressed so flat together they were almost invisible beneath his mustache. "Well. Obviously, we ought to take it back."
Tentatively, Dale asked, "And... place a new one with a fresh battery, sir?"
Powers's brows drew together in anger. Between gritted teeth, he said, "Not with the civilians listening to you say so..."
Soos was still standing in the doorway, and Dipper and Mabel were peering around him from the staircase. Melody had peeked in nervously from the gift shop. At the callout, the kids and Melody had the grace to withdraw again. But Powers wasn't looking at them. He was glancing sideways toward Bill, standing right by his side—and Bill's wide-eyed gaze never wavered from Powers's face.
This wasn't good—they did not need the agents trying to figure out why they might have left a bug in the shack. Damage control time. "Hey," Bill said. "if you forgot about it completely, must not have picked up anything interesting, right? Otherwise you'da remembered it!"
All three agents' faces immediately darkened and they exchanged meaningful looks. Bill didn't like it when people exchanged meaningful looks he didn't know the meaning of. "Apparently so," Powers muttered.
"I'll just... take this to the car," Trigger said.
Soos backed out of the way to give him room to leave, then trailed after him: "So, are there any other bugs in here we should probably know about...?"
Bill waited until Trigger was already out of the house before he said to Dale, "Hey, does he have the car keys?"
"Oh!" Dale patted his pockets, then hurried out. "Trigger, wait!"
Once his agents were gone, Powers grumbled to himself, "'Place a new one.' What happened to professionalism." He rubbed his forehead. "Find one bug that you mysteriously don't know about, and everyone forgets how to act like government agents..."
He trailed off, giving Bill an uneasy sideways glance. Bill was still staring full force at him. He cleared his throat. "You... have an incredibly penetrating gaze, ma'am."
"Thanks! Keep talking like that and maybe it'll penetrate you," Bill really wanted to say, but didn't; "flirtatious euphemisms that could be about stabbing" and "comments that put the fear of the cruel ever-watching All-Seeing Eye of God in you" were both on Bill's list of banned topics. Instead, he tried, "Thanks! You're incredibly easy to look at!"
"O-oh." Powers adjusted his tie self-consciously. Getting a little hot under the collar, huh. "Am I?"
"You bet! In fact, I was just thinking you really look like dad material."
"That's... kind of you to say," Powers said. "However, I've never liked children."
"Oh." Bill shut his eyes until the urge to turn somebody's bones into thumbtacks subsided. "Sure, that's fine. I can take 'em or leave 'em."
"Sir?" Trigger called from the doorway. "What's our next move?"
"Excuse me." Powers left Bill, heading out to join his agents on the porch.
Bill drifted out to the entryway. Mabel and Dipper were huddled on the stairs. Bill shot Mabel a pained look and hissed, "How could you have steered me so wrong?"
"Sorryyy," she whispered back. "I thought the dad one was a winner!"
"I trusted you, star girl." He slid outside behind Powers just before the door swung shut.
And just before Soos came back in, looking stricken. Dipper asked, "What happened?"
"The agent with the movie star face asked what days the museum's closed," Soos said. "I think they're thinking about searching it more? And, he told me not to leave town? I can't take this, dude." A wild look had entered his eyes. "I'm not cut out for prison. I'm too gentle-hearted!"
"Shhh." Melody took his arm and gently led him away from the door, rubbing his back. "It's gonna be all right, Soos. It sounds like the agents are distracted. Why don't we close the museum early for lunch and try looking for Gompers again, okay? Maybe he's ready to come home. And we can get some fresh air, yeah?"
"Yeah." Soos took a deep breath. "Okay. You're right." He turned toward Dipper and Mabel. "Can you dudes handle the gift shop while we're out?"
"Sure thing, Soos, no problem," Dipper said. "You go ahead."
The twins waited until they heard the sound of the gift shop exit door closing, then Dipper said, "Not it."
"Me neither," Mabel said.
"The gift shop customers can take care of themselves for a few minutes." Dipper opened the back door a crack, and they both crowded against it. Bill—leaning on the wall next to the door with his arms crossed—glanced at the kids through the crack, raised a couple fingers in acknowledgement, and then all three listened to the agents on the porch:
"Well, obviously the flash drive signal wasn't a fluke. They must have hidden it since yesterday."
"We can't leave until we find it and figure out what's happening here." (Bill made a mental note to lord that over Melody later.) "What are our next steps?"
"Should we request more sensitive equipment to scan for electronics? There might be other transmitters in the building with completely dead batteries we're not picking up." (That seemed like a fast way to discover the door hidden behind the vending machine.)
"Maybe we ought to run some more background checks on the rest of the people here. How many of them have we checked out?"
A jolt of fear shot up Bill's spine. And that seemed like a fast way to discover that "Goldie Locke" didn't legally exist. "All right," he muttered through the crack. "I tried this the human way. Now I'm doing it my way."
"Wait," Dipper hissed, "Bill, no! What are you planning?!"
Bill ignored him as he sidled up to Powers. "Not heading out already, are you?"
Powers said, "As soon as Trigger finishes updating HQ." Trigger had walked off the porch and was now making a phone call. Dale surreptitiously scooted to the other end of the porch to give Powers and Bill room to talk.
"Aww, too bad. I was enjoying watching a real investigation at work!"
"Hm. I'm afraid you didn't see us at our most competent," Powers muttered.
"Hey, everyone has an off day or two." Bill leaned closer, just near enough for his bare arm to brush Powers's suit sleeve, and murmured, "And, anyway—not to bad-mouth these rookies, but even on a bad day it's already pretty clear you're the smartest guy in the room. I can only imagine how fascinating it'd be to watch you at work when you're bringing your A game."
Powers cleared his throat, obviously trying not to look flustered. "Well. Yes. We'll no doubt be around a few more days. Perhaps we'll... cross paths again...?"
Not good. Too passive. By now, this sucker was supposed to be falling all over himself to ask out the mysterious blonde. Bill could probably ask him out and it'd go fine—but he wasn't sure how attached this guy was to traditional gender roles, there was a chance it could turn him off.
(That was the excuse he told himself. In truth, part of him was getting mad. He wanted to be the one who was asked out. He should be asked out. He was more than good enough to be asked out, and this over-evolved eukaryote had no right to deny him that.)
He pressed, "Still, I hate to see you go. Three times I've run into you, and I hardly know any more about you than I did on the beach! I get that being mysterious comes with the whole secret agent territory—but I've been going crazy, wondering all night about this handsome stranger in town." He put just the slightest emphasis on all night—and threw in a wink for good measure.
"H... have you?" Powers turned to face Bill fully. "Well... some of my personal information is classified, given the nature of my work, but—what do you want to know?"
"For starters, I think I'm overdue to ask you whether you're single!"
"I—Yes, I am."
"Whaddaya know—something we have in common!" Bill pretended he had to think a moment before saying, "Hmm... Hey, here's another fun little get-to-know-you question: what conspiracy would you most hate to be true?"
(Through the ajar crack in the door, he could hear Mabel loudly whisper, "Bill nooo...")
"That's a fascinating question. I've often wondered it myself." Powers stared off into the distance, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose... I think I'd most hate to find out the government has tried to brainwash its own citizens. Not just propaganda, mind—that's fine—I mean actual brainwashing."
No way. Bill had to pin his lips between his teeth to keep from bursting out laughing. Somebody had forgotten to tell this guy about MKUltra. Wow. Wow. He worked for the Bureau of Covert Investigations. How did he miss MKUltra. Bill had to grope behind himself for the porch sofa and sit before he lost his balance from fighting not to laugh. When he was sure he could manage a few words without a giggle escaping, he squeaked, "Yeah, that—sounds... pretty bad."
"What about yours?" Powers turned toward Bill.
He had to quickly prop his elbow on the armrest and prop his chin in his hand to hide his mouth, pretending to think. He hoped his amusement wasn't showing elsewhere on his face—human faces had too many muscles to keep track of. "Mm! Hmm." While he was trying to get his laughter under control, Bill tried to pick out one of the countless conspiracies in his repertoire that was obscure enough to be impressive but not obscure enough to be suspicious. (Or "obscure" enough Powers didn't know about it—hello, MKUltra.) "Wow, there's—there's a lot that'd be terrible. But hey, as long as we're talking politics—" (Mabel hissed "Bill NO!") "—I've heard a rumor in the area that there's a secret crazy president that was kicked out and covered up in the history books, ever heard about that one?" That oughta grab his attention.
But to Bill's surprise, Powers frowned thoughtfully and slowly shook his head. "No, it's unfamiliar. It must be a local theory," he said. "If the government were to cover up an entire presidency, I'm sure they would have a pressing reason for it—but I do see how the concept would be alarming."
Bill stared at him. Did this guy not know anything the government was up to?! He should have been going out of his mind trying to figure out how Bill knew about Trembley. Powers wasn't the kind of agent who could tell decent lies. If he did know something, he wouldn't play dumb like that; he'd just tell Bill it was "classified." Did he really not know? But the eagles' search for Trembley's remains should have nothing to do with the memories Ford wiped from the agents' minds.
The Bureau of Covert Investigations was so covert, agents usually weren't even told about other bureau investigations they weren't personally part of. So...
Was the bureau running two investigations in Gravity Falls?
Had Powers not been looped into the Trembley case?
"Uh..." Bill scrambled to think of another conspiracy that might catch Powers's interest. (He and Trigger had mentioned Hangar 618; no wonder they had time to work on cases across the country if they were only handling half the active investigations in Gravity Falls—no, focus, focus.) "How about Big Fashion, have you heard of that one? The theory that the fashion industry's teaming up to take down ways for people to get clothes other than buying new. Thrift shops, fabric stores, sewing pattern companies..."
Powers nodded. "I'm familiar with the theory." (Oh good—Bill would've been embarrassed for him if he hadn't known that one.) "I'm afraid I haven't paid close attention to the evidence for it. I already buy all my clothes new—I don't like the thought of another man's skin cells lingering on the inside of my shirts, it feels unsanitary."
It was no wonder this guy had been assigned to Gravity Falls. Bill doubted he was weird enough to really fit in here—but he was just odd enough to feel the town's pull. "For starters, there's the assassination of the president of Valhalla Sewing Machines a few years ago. Sewing machines are one of Big Fashion's top targets."
"Something definitely happened there," Powers agreed, "but all evidence points to the hit being ordered by Crooner Company over their rival line of sewing machines. They did acquire Valhalla just a few months later."
"And Crooner's been battling the bad PR ever since," Bill said dismissively. "Neither company came out of that mess looking good. It was an obvious false flag operation!"
Powers frowned, and for a moment Bill worried that he'd said too much—that Powers either thought Bill sounded like a crackpot, or thought Bill knew too much for some small town civilian... but he said, approvingly, "You know your stuff."
Jackpot. Time to go in for the kill. "I try to! I'm interested in how the gears of the universe turn. Reality, society, politics, business—what greases those wheels? Who winds the clock? There's a lot going on underneath the surface. And I like to keep my eye on all of it." He lowered his voice. "Actually, I'm glad to see you in town. I've also felt like something's going on under the surface of this town, but..." He left the sentence dangling.
Slowly, Power said, "Something... paranormal, perhaps?"
"Ha! Between the Mystery Shack here and that 'child psychic' in town, that's the reputation Gravity Falls has now," Bill said. "I'm not the kind of gullible dope to get spooked by ghost stories without proof. But—whatever's going on here... it does feel spooky."
Powers nodded slowly. "Whenever I'm in this town, I have the exact same thoughts."
Bill fought to keep the triumph off his face.
####
Dipper whispered, "I can't believe this is working."
He and Mabel were crammed against the door, one on top of each other, listening to Bill say, "This has been a fascinating conversation. I'd love to hear more about your work... wink."
Dipper said, "I can't believe this is working even though he says 'wink' out loud."
Mabels shushed him. "Bill's doing great!"
Powers said, "Unfortunately, I do have to go submit my own report to headquarters. But, I'm free this evening. If you'd like to see a movie, or...?"
Mabel gasped. "Idea!" She tapped on the door's window to catch Bill's attention, and, when he glanced her way, she pointed out toward the clearing beyond the porch.
Bill looked at the clearing and twitched in surprise. Through the crack in the door, Dipper tried to see what Bill was looking at. He couldn't see anything in the clearing.
Bill turned to Powers. "Howsabout dinner? There's a diner in town called Greasy's. I've heard good things about it! For starters, that the food is better than the name."
Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Wait, hold on—he's not allowed to go out, is he?" But Mabel didn't answer; she was sprinting full speed up the stairs.
From the far end of the porch, Dale said, "Oh, Greasy's is terrific, I went there yesterday for lunch. Makes a damn fine cup of coffee. And try the cherry pie."
"Very well," Power said. "When should I...?"
"I'll meet you at the diner. Let's say seven."
When the agents had left, Dipper yanked open the door. "What was that?! Nobody said you could actually leave to go on a date!"
Bill shrugged. "It wasn't my idea, it was your sister's."
"What?" Dipper frowned. "When did she say that?"
"She didn't. She's going to."
Mabel pounded down the stairs, counting the steps under her breath—"twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty eight"—carrying a neon yellow posterboard folded loosely in half. She ran out the door to the clearing behind the shack, held up the posterboard—she'd written "♡ INVITE HIM TO GREASY'S ♡" in thick black marker—and announced, "Ta-da!"
"You're too late," Dipper said. "Bill already asked Powers and he already left."
Bill said, "I asked him because I saw her telling me to."
Dipper looked between Bill and the poster. "Ohhh. Hang on. This is a future sight thing?"
"Bingo."
"How long should I hold it up?" Mabel called.
"Just give it another ten seconds," Bill said. "That thing's fluorescent, I could probably see it from an hour away."
She bounced on the balls of her feet for a few more seconds, then said, "Okay!" and jogged back to the porch, beaming from ear to ear. "That was so cool."
"Hey, smart girl!" Bill caught Mabel's sleeve before she could run past him. "You know, I've been talking to humans for thousands of years, and you're the first who's ever sent a message backwards in time to me?"
"Really?" Her face lit up. "Shut up! There's no way I'm the first-first!"
"Hand on heart, Shooting Star, no other human's ever tried it," Bill said. "You can't even see the fourth dimension, but you still understand it well enough to send messages through it. I'm genuinely impressed!"
Mabel's delight reached a boiling over point. She cackled in glee, gave Bill a quick hug, and bounded into the living room, crowing, "I'M THE GREATEST!"
Bill watched Mabel zoom into the gift shop, grinning proudly; and then his eyes slid sideways to meet Dipper's. "What's that look for."
Dipper was leveling his best suspicious glare at Bill. "Oh, nothing," he said. "Just thinking about how, the last time I heard you say you were impressed, you were just manipulating me into letting you puppet my body."
"Hmm! Yeah! I did do that!" Bill said. "Did I say I was genuinely impressed?"
Dipper's scowl deepened.
Bill's smirk widened. "C'mon, kid, don't be jealous just because you're not the alpha twin. It'd make your sister feel terrible."
####
"You actually got a date?" Ford asked.
"Sure! As if it's hard!"
Stan smugly held out a hand, palm up. Ford shot him an exasperated look, but sighed, fished around in his pocket, pulled out five large one-dollar coins, and dropped them in Stan's hand.
Bill stared at Ford, brows raised. "I don't know what's more insulting: that you bet against me, or that you've stopped using paper currency." Ford didn't deign to respond.
When they had been absolutely sure the agents were gone—for now—Soos had gone downstairs to let the Stans know the coast was clear; and now the adults were gathered in the living room again to discuss their next moves. Or, rather, Bill's.
Stan said, "So there's still been no sign of Gompers?"
"Nope," Soos said. "He's really run off. Plus, me and Melo—" (at Ford's look, he corrected himself) "—Melody and I drove around earlier looking for him? You know, in case he came out of the woods somewhere? But one of the government guys started following me in a black car? Sooo we had to stop looking, and I guess we're still being watched."
"Which'll make it harder to sneak me out for my date without them noticing I live here," Bill said. Maybe they could sneak him out with the crystal flashlight trick he and Mabel had pulled before, but he'd rather not tell the other Pines how they'd pulled that off in case they ever had to do it again. "We might be able to split 'em up while we outnumber them, but if this goes on for long, they'll bring in reinforcements."
"Ford and I can't help distract them," Stan pointed out. "We've gotta stay inside. And Soos is the only one that can drive Bill to this date. With the kids' help, we've only just got enough people to split the agents up."
Ford muttered, "Meaning there's no one to keep a watch over Bill." He crossed his arms. "Letting Bill flirt with a government agent under our roof is one thing—but I don't like a plan that involves letting Bill out in public and trusting him not to throw us under the bus." (Bill had considered it, but decided it would just cause the government to seize his portal and Mabel to never speak to him again.)
"He wouldn't do that," Soos said hotly—to Bill's surprise. "He already had a chance to run away and he didn't! And if he wanted us to get in trouble, he could have just not helped at all!"
"I..." Ford looked for a moment like he wanted to protest—Bill expected him to protest—but then he grimaced, shut his mouth, and said nothing. There was an even bigger surprise. Bill wasn't actually making progress with Ford, was he? Bill stared at the side of his face, willing him to explain himself; but Ford avoided his gaze.
Stan said, "Listen, I don't like letting him out either, but I don't think we have a choice."
"All right, all right," Ford sighed. "Fine. I don't like it—but unless Gompers shows up in the next few hours, you're still our best hope of getting out of this mess." (Bill decided to pretend that was praise and spent a second basking in it.) "Which means you have to find out everything the agents currently know and suspect, keep them away from anything that could restore their memories, convince them to turn their attention away from our household without the flash drive, andmake sure no one gets arrested. And you've got one date to do it all in."
It was a tall order—but the way Ford said it like a challenge, like he thought maybe Bill couldn't do it, made Bill's blood boil. "Piece of cake! Don't forget it's taken me less time than that to convince you to do a lllot more than that." At Ford's scowl, Bill grinned viciously. "One date's all I need. By the end of the night, I'll have this whole thing figured out." If he said it like he believed it, it was basically true.
####
(The only bits of this that were changed in the wake of TBOB were adding in the discussion about the Seduction Hat; and adding a short section establishing that Powers's team is not involved with the Trembley investigation and briefly mentioning Hangar 618. In the original draft of this chapter, I'd said that a different government department was handling the Trembley case, until TBOB established otherwise. Establishing that Powers's team wasn't on the Trembley case is something that'll be important in future chapters.
From here on out the plot arc speeds up and turns increasingly into some kinda fusion between a spy drama and a reverse heist movie. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts so far and your thoughts on where it's gonna go!)
#bill cipher#human bill cipher#agent powers#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanart#fanart#my art#my writing#bill goldilocks cipher#(this entire plot arc is Bill looking less and less like Bill with each chapter art lmfao)#(he's gonna be so thrilled to crawl back into his triangle hoodie.)
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Charm Me | Jeon Jungkook | Two Shot | Part One
Summary: Your best friend's boyfriend's best friend is not someone you had planned on falling for, and honestly you hardly admit it to yourself most days but maybe, just maybe there's something you can do to test those waters... Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook (semi friends to lovers lol) Word Count: 7k~ Warnings: Some curses here and there but nothing major. a/n: Kay so this was supposed to be a one shot but I didn't finish it in time and I wanted to get something out for Valentine's Day so I hope you guys enjoy it 🥰 p.s. barely edited per usual so please excuse any mistakes. I legit decided last minute to make this a two shot lol.
"Come on y/n let's go!" Sadie pleads practically dragging me through the parking lot. "Someone's excited" I laugh, dragging my feet a little to make her task even harder, eventually yanking me through a heart littered archway.
"You finally agreed to come with me to the Valentine's Festival after I had been begging you for years! How could I not be excited?" she says as though her degree of excitement is warranted but with her, excitement is always easy to conjure.
"I've never had a reason to come since I've been single for years" I roll my eyes, the whole thing seemingly pointless if you ask me. "Yet here you are, still single and gracing me with your presence" she says accompanied by a dramatic curtsy, very fitting this time since she happens to be wearing a dress.
Her cute coquette style mismatched with my dark and moody nature is a laughable dichotomy.
Her pink ballet flats walk next to my all black combat boots, the ribbons swaying in her hair stand in stark contrast to the way the light catches on my silver chains, leaving us quite the odd pairing.
"You know, if you keep on hanging on my arm like that people are gonna think we're lesbians" I sigh, not making an effort to pull away. "Is that your way of asking me to be your Valentine" she teases and I roll my eyes.
"Pretty sure Jayson would have a problem with that" I say, pealing her off of me leaving her pouting before grabbing my hand instead and pulling me over to the first of many stalls that line this festival.
"Just because Jayson is my boyfriend doesn't mean he has to be my Valentine...plus he hasn't asked me yet" she sighs dramatically for the fifth time today, a common theme for the past couple of days whenever this topic is brought up.
"You know you could always, I don't know... ask him" I say and her brows furrow leaving me poking the wrinkle on her forehead to make her stop.
"What a ridiculous thing to say" she scoffs and walks off to the next stand leaving me shaking my head and following after her.
Sadie is someone I've been friends with for as long as I can remember. Long enough to have known each other before we made the dramatic split in our senses of style. I'd love to burn the pictures of me in Abercrombie skinny jeans and brightly colored Hollister polos but alas they will forever haunt my memories.
At least I had Sadie though. I wouldn't leave her in the past no matter how many embarrassing stories she's in possession of.
"No way!" she squeals and pulls me over to another stall that's caught her eye. "If you keep on yanking on my arm like that you'll eventually pull it off" I say while rolling my shoulder, making it a point to prevent her from doing so again.
"Sorry" she laughs awkwardly and tries to check on me but I assure her I'm fine, choosing to direct her attention to the table she decided to pull me towards this time.
"Love potions? Really? Jayson is already head over heels for you Sadie, I doubt you'll need help keeping him around" I roll my eyes and try to move onto to the next stall but she pulls me back, gently this time thankfully, clearly enthralled with the concept.
"Not for me silly, for you!" she justifies and takes a closer look, making the mysterious and lowkey sketchy woman behind the table hopeful that she'll get another sucker to fall for her tricks.
"Why would I need a love potion? Last time I checked there's not a man in my life that I'd want to fall in love with me" I say and she cocks a brow at me. "Bullshit" she says, using language that I've hardly every heard from her.
"Someone's feisty today" I chuckle making her expression sour. "What? There's literally no guy I could think of that I'd want to use that on" I reiterate but we both know I'm lying.
But I'm not gonna give that information up though even if she tries to beat it out of me.
"Whatever you say" she huffs and moves onto the next stall.
The rest of our time here is spent doing the same thing over and over again with Sadie trying to find something for Jayson and me just following along getting hungrier by the second as we inch closer and closer to the food stalls that are annoyingly full of food items that look like hearts and roses but I couldn't care less when they smell that good.
"Alright come on dude I'm starving" I say when she's finished paying, still engaged in a conversation with the shop keeper that has been convincing her to buy too many useless things but it's no skin off my nose if she wants to use her daddy's money to buy that nonsense.
"Hey! I was still talking to her" she whines but follows since after my not so subtle mention of needing sustenance she's starting to realize she's just as starving if not more than me when she see's that they're selling heart shaped waffles.
"Okay but afterwards I want to check out a few more stalls!" she compromises and switches to pulling me along again to get in the ever growing line of hungry customers.
~~~~
After we've each successfully gained a food baby each Sadie pops around and looks at a few more stalls with me very much ready for a nap.
But let's be honest, I'm always ready for a nap.
"Hey why don't you pull the car around and I'll check out the last few stalls on my own" she suggests but I know she's up to something.
"Why?" I question watching her eyes shift over to a certain stall in particular. "That way it'll safe us a little bit of time and we can get out of here sooner" she explains but I sigh and agree, knowing the faster we get out of here, the better from my perspective at least.
"I'll call you when I get closer to the entrance" I say and she smiles and waves me off while I make the trek back to her car on my own, having brought her car so I would have no means of escape.
When I finally pull up she hops in with at least two or three more bags than she had when I left. "What did you buy?" I ask but all I'm granted is a little giggle accompanied by a no where near suspicious 'Nothing' leaving me rolling my eyes for the last time tonight, knowing that her childlike excitement when it comes to these things truly is endearing to me, but she'll never know that.
~~~~
Once Sadie unlocks the door to her apartment we both head over to the table to set down her countless purchases.
"Did you really need another perfume?" I ask, holding up the pink ish stained glass bottle to the light leaving her taking it out of my hands and putting it back on the table. "It's not perfume it's room mist. It's supposed to make the space feel more romantic" she says, giving a shortened version of the sales pitch she no doubt got.
"Right...romantic" I chuckle knowing that it'll probably just be a cheaply made lightly scented mist that's supposed to be all natural with health benefits too but I won't burst her bubble on this one since I know there's enough romance to spare when it comes to her and Jayson.
I swear I can barely stand being alone with them but luckily that's gotten a little better lately.
"I should probably get going soon" I say looking at the clock after I've helped her put everything away for safe keeping, code word for away from Jayson's prying eyes. "Wait why?" she pouts, "I thought you were gonna stay for movie night" she says as if I just told her that she can't wear pink on Wednesdays.
"I don't wanna watch a movie with you and your boyfriend" I cringe at the idea of being left in a room with those two. "Yeah but he's bringing J-" she starts to argue but is cut off by a rhythmic knock on her front door making her expression go from sulking to smug.
"Can you get the door?" she asks and goes back to the kitchen to get the movies snacks ready. "I'm not your butler S" I call back out but my only response is her happily humming and completely ignoring me.
I walk over to the door and open it with Jayson's hand raised up about to knock again which he luckily doesn't because he wouldn't knocked on my forehead instead.
"Impatient are we?" I ask and lean against the doorway, making his efforts of seeing Sadie last a little while longer. "Hi y/n, is Sadie around?" he chuckles, glad he didn't accidentally make an enemy of me tonight. "I mean this is her apartment" I say and he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Yeah I guess you're right" he says making me smirk, knowing I'm playing to scary best friend role perfectly. Looks like he took the threat of me castrating him if he ever hurt Sadie pretty seriously still. "In the kitchen" I say and widen the door, letting him slip past me but when I go to close it I'm met with another person trying to come in right behind him.
"Hey y/n" his deep voice says, no doubt trying to play it cool since he's probably heard that story before as well. "Didn't know you were coming" I say, my tone neutral as I widen the door for him.
"Yeah Jayson said something about a movie night? I heard you were gonna be here so I thought I'd tag along...if that's alright with you of course" Jungkook say, backtracking and clearly embarrassed for admitting that he wanted to see me.
"I mean it's a free country" I shrug my shoulders and close the door, with him waiting for me to lead the way even though he's been here quite a few times already since Sadie and Jayson got together. "Right" he chuckles, not adding much more than that, letting the conversation die.
"Hi baby" Jayson says making Sadie giggle and I avert my eyes before I have to witness another kiss of theirs leaving me bumping into Jungkook's chest, not having expected him to be that close. With him as a result wrapping his arm around me to make sure I don't stumble from the impact.
"Sorry I-" he says but I just unwrap his arm around my waist. "It's fine. I was just a little too dramatic in trying to save myself from witnessing their love" I roll my eyes leaving Sadie pouting but I can tell she's clearly satisfied with seeing Jungkook and I so close.
"Makes sense" he said and rubs the back of his neck and watches as I make my way over to the couch with him soon following my lead.
He's been like this almost since the beginning once he realized that my moody exterior wasn't aimed at him just because he was a stranger but was just a part of my character. Although I'm pretty sure I still make him nervous, he doesn't seem to mind it anymore.
Just like clockwork he sits on one side of the couch while I sit on the other, never crossing spacial boundaries unless necessary or out of convenience like that one time I got roped into sitting in the middle in the backseat next to him on our trip to the beach since we needed more space for the stuff we brought with us.
Curse you Sadie and your tiny car.
I don't even know why we ended up taking her car since it's the smallest out of the four of ours but alas. The result of which was Jungkook's arm draped across the back seat to offer me some more space with me eventually falling asleep on him. Resulting in me lowkey avoiding him after the fact until I realized how ridiculous I was being.
Sadie had also been guilt tripping me at that time about how sad he had been and how lonely he looked hanging out with just her and Jayson and so I finally gave in, knowing I couldn't do this forever. Plus it wasn't like it was his fault or anything. Swimming always makes me sleepy and I should've warned him about that.
He didn't make it a big deal about it when I came back thankfully since I already had to deal with enough teasing from my often merciless best friend so we were luckily able to act as though it never happened. Although ever since then it's happened quite a few times...
"Hey Jungkook do you think you could let me use the arm rest tonight?" Jayson calls out sounding not in the slightest bit suspicious but all of us know what he's doing and Sadie clearly has clearly put him up to it.
"Oh um" Jungkook starts but when he not so subtly glances over in my direction I decide to just put the boy out of his misery. "You can use mine. Sadie and I can sit in the middle" I say resulting in me having to sit next to Jungkook for the next two or so hours.
When I glance at him I can see how the new seating arrangement has made him nervous and so I decide to torture the boy a little. "As long as that's okay with you Jungkook?" I ask, tilting my head at him which has him nervously glancing back over at me before clearing his throat and practically squirming him his seat before nodding 'yes'.
"Perfect!" Sadie says and with the help of Jayson brings over all the snacks and presses play on the pre approved movie from our group chat debate.
~~~~
As the movie drags on I watch my vision go in and out of focus, leaving me shaking my head in an effort to try and wake myself up. "You okay?" Jungkook whispers and I hum. "Just a little sleepy" I respond assuring him I'm alright. He hums back and adjusts his posture, draping his arm around the couch, as a not so subtle invitation for me to lean on him.
The corner of my mouth turns up at that and I can tell that he noticed it, making him not as nervous about his offer anymore.
The dynamic between Jungkook and I has been...peculiar to say the least.
I wouldn't consider him a close friend or even a friend really. Maybe more like a friend by proxy since we do end up spending a lot of time together. With both of our best friends insisting that the two of us tag along with neither of us having the real desire to tell them no.
We've had a good conversation here and there when Sadie and Jayson are wrapped up in their own little world but I won't lie to you when I say that there have been some days or nights where we just sit in silence, watching the love birds do what they do.
If you ask me though it's never felt awkward. Has he been awkward and nervous? Yes. But it doesn't really bother me either.
I wouldn't say that I seek out his company but I can't say that I don't feel a little disappointed when he's not around. More like there's something missing because obviously someone is missing, plus I'm forced to pay more attention to the two of them if it's just me.
It's times like that when he works up the courage to text me. Explaining why he wasn't able to make it as though he felt obligated to do so but he makes sure to offer me an ear when I want to complain about the nonsense those two get up to or what they managed to rope me into.
He sends funny memes to cheer me up, somehow knowing my sense of humor perfectly or complains to me in return about how boring and monotonous his job can be making me smile when he tells me he has to go because his boss is watching. As though he was a nervous teenager that couldn't spend a second away from his crush.
He couldn't have a crush on me could he? No, no that's not right.
I let my thoughts of Jungkook drift off, the low hum of the TV soon lulling me to sleep resulting in me leaning against him, with him adjusting his posture to make it more comfortable for me, his arm soon migrating from resting on the back of the couch to loosely around my waist.
Something I've always noticed when I wake up though is that he's so comfortable. As though being this close to him feels natural. I will admit that when I've partially stirred awake and realized what I'd done I don't make an effort to wake up or pull away, indulging in the comfort for just a little while longer.
I feel bad though for the times that I wake up and he has to leave right away or when Sadie pulls me over and let's me lay on her lap to continue sleeping, making it a little easier for him to head out. It's as though he waits until the very last minute just to let me sleep a little while longer, not wanting to disturb me for as long as he can.
Tonight isn't one of those nights though, the ones where he has somewhere to go or some place to be.
He just stays there, being as still as he can, letting me cuddle up to him as little or as much as I want to, eventually helping me lay my head down on his lap once Jayson and Sadie turn in for the night. The position being the slightest bit more comfortable this time with me eventually waking up three hours after the movie had finished.
My head is resting on his upper thigh, with my face basically buried into his torso but he doesn't seem to mind when I turn onto my back and see him absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.
"What time is it?" I mumble, slightly startling him but he smiles at my groggy state soon after. "One thirty" he mumbles back, keeping his voice down so he doesn't force me awake too quickly.
"You could've woken me up" I say, slowly sitting up and stretching before straightening out my appearance just the slightest bit. "I didn't have anywhere to be so I thought I'd just let you sleep" he shrugs and I hum. "Plus you seemed pretty exhausted so I thought you could use the rest" he adds and I can't help but give him a soft, hardly conscious smile.
"Thanks" and he just smiles back at me. We sit there for a little while, and he eventually hands me a bottle of water that's on the coffee table to hopefully help me wake up but after a while I sigh and rest back back against the couch again.
"What?" he chuckles, sensing my struggle. "Sadie was supposed to give me a ride home" I huff, realizing the predicament I've been put in, just because I wanted to get some shut eye.
"I can give you a ride" he chuckles, seeing the clear solution but I shake my head.
"I can't just keep you here and use you as my human pillow then have you give me a ride home as well" I counter but he just smiles. "It's really not a big deal" he counters and I sigh again, knowing he's probably not gonna take no for an answer.
I can't help but get this...this indescribable feeling in my stomach that I so desperately want to ignore when I think about being alone with him. We are alone right now but that somehow seems...different.
"I have to go somewhere on your side of town anyways so your place is on my way" he says making me smile at his blatant lie. "At two in the morning?" I chuckle, checking my phone and quickly turning down the brightness so it won't blind me anymore.
"Yeah it's uh...open for twenty four hours" he say, making excuses to fit his claims. "You're lying to me aren't you?" I say, calling him out making him look down at his lap, slightly defeated seeing his excuse didn't work this time.
"Yeah" he mumbles making me smile. "You could always just say that you want to give me a ride" I chuckle and from the way he clears his throat and looks away I can tell that that sentence has a completely different meaning to him than I had intended.
"I um...I want to give you a ride...home. A ride home" he stammers, the whole interaction quite amusing to me. "Sure, I'd like that" I say and stand up with him getting up immediately, patting his pockets and making sure he has his keys.
I grab my purse and make sure I have everything I need as well and when he sees that I didn't bring a warm jacket he gives me the other one he brought that he had put aside when he came in. "What's this for?" I ask, taking it suspiciously and draping it over my arm.
"We're just walking to your car right? Pretty sure I don't need this for that short of a walk" I say and try to hand it back to him. He takes it back but instead wraps it around me and helps me put it on regardless, even going through the effort of zipping it up for me.
"Trust me, you'll need it" he smiles softly after seeing how it fits me, clearly satisfied seeing me wearing something of his.
"I look silly don't I?" I say, turning towards the full length mirror Sadie has in her entry way but he chuckles and shakes his head, standing behind me and looking at me through the reflection.
"It looks perfect on you" he says just as soft as his smile and opens the door, urging for me to go in true gentlemanly like fashion leaving me rolling my eyes but going along with his efforts nonetheless.
I lock up the apartment with my spare key and follow him as he leads me to what I had expected to be his usual black BMW but what I'm met with is an equally as black Harley Davidson with him unlocking the compartment in the back and handing me his spare helmet.
This item although I don't take so willingly.
"You're joking right?" I scoff and cross my arms, the longer sleeves from his jacket by design giving me sweater paws making my stance a whole less defiant than I wanted. A pouty aura now stands in it's place.
"What? Never ridden a motorcycle before?" he smirks and walks over to me, choosing to put it on for me since he's pretty sure I wouldn't do it from my argument against this whole idea to begin with.
"No I haven't and I don't plan to" I huff and try to take it off but he chuckles and holds it down against my head making me accept defeat with this part at least. Just because I put on the helmet doesn't mean I actually have to ride it.
"You scared?" he chuckles, adjusting the strap under my chin and making sure it fits just right, smiling, satisfied with his work, amused with my soured expression. "I am not scared!" I argue and he smirks.
"Then what's the problem sweetheart?" he says, his first time even daring to use a pet name with me catching me off guard.
"The problem is, sweetheart, is that I don't wan't to. Those things are dangerous!" I argue and he smiles before putting his helmet on as well and taking my bag to place it in the back seat compartment and closes it.
"Hey!" I argue when I realize what he's done, trying to get it back but it seems it locks automatically leaving my efforts sans key useless.
"Do you trust me?" he asks and my brows furrow, honestly not knowing the answer yet making me look away. "Y/n" he says, placing both of his hands on my shoulders and urging me to look at him leaving me ultimately relenting.
"Do you trust me?" he repeats, all the times I've let him in even in the slightest rushing through my psyche. Hell even just moments ago when I had been asleep and in a vulnerable state I trusted him to watch over me and so I nod my head.
Admitting to him and myself that I've let him in, that I've let him break down these walls that I've built up even in the slightest making the sides of his eyes crinkle, the mask like helmet making it impossible to see his complete expression.
"Good, now get on"
~~~~
I hold onto him as tight as I possibly can while he safely swerves between lanes and warns me when he's about to go around a bend and I can tell that everything about this predicament amuses him.
"You know you can relax a little when we hit red lights" he calls out to me over the roar of the engine but my only answer is a quick 'Nope' while I grasp onto him tighter, his reactions always a dark chuckle that I can feel through his back that's pressed impossibly close to my chest the tighter I cling to him.
At those red lights though he tends to remind me to keep my legs spread just a little wider, making sure I don't burn my calves on the hot metal of the bike. Placing both of his hands on my knees and spreading them a little wider. The act alone in this case is innocent but in others that I curse my mind for wandering to is anything but that.
"Hey" he calls out, the roar of his Harley no longer audible making his voice seem that much louder. "Yeah?" I ask, still completely clueless as to what he's trying to alert me to. "You can let go now" he chuckles, the sound no longer just felt but heard makes me pull back, so thankful his back is turned to me still.
"Sorry, I didn't realize we had gotten here already" I say and he shakes his head and pulls off his helmet before getting off and leaving me sliding down a little on the seat, loosing my balance and grabbing onto the handlebars.
"I thought you said you didn't like motorcycles" he taunts and I huff. "I don't" I roll my eyes making him even more amused. "Really? Because you look like you're about to steal it from me" he points out, nodding towards my hands that are very much still on the handle bars.
I let go of it as though I had burned myself and quickly getting off the bike, losing my balance and making Jungkook on instinct grabs my hips to keep me on my feet.
After regaining my composure and realizing the predicament we're in leave me the one to call in back to reality. My hands although are still very much holding onto his biceps with his hands still gripping my hips with an almost bruising strength.
I look up at him, seeing as he's looking down at me, an unreadable expression written on his face as though he was struggling with something leaving me really having to break him out of his train of thought.
"Jungkook?" I say, loosening my grip on his arms. "Hmm?" he hums, still clearly lost in whatever thoughts had been holding him hostage, still looking at me but almost as if he couldn't focus on one feature.
"Jungkook?" I say again, this time smiling and that breaks him out of it a bit more. "You can let go now" I laugh, leaving him blinking and letting go, taking a step back making both of our arms fall at our sides now.
"Sorry um...are you okay?" he asks, remembering the fact that I almost fell on my ass. "I'm fine, are you?" I tilt my head at him leaving him looking away, a rosy tint deepening on his cheeks even in this twilight surrounding us.
"Can you help me with this?" I ask after trying to struggle and get the helmet off leaving his mouth utter a inaudible 'oh' before stepping closer again and unbuckling the intricate strap under my chin.
"See, home safe and sound" he chuckles after putting the helmets away and giving me my bag back. "Slightly traumatized but safe nonetheless" I say making the corner of his mouth turn up.
"It wasn't that bad was it?" he asks with him now tilting his head at me, now understanding his reaction to when I do it. "Never make me do that again" I huff and turn to walk away and when I hear the sound of two sets of foot steps instead of one I turn around and watch as his steps stutter and come to a halt.
"What?" he asks when he's met with a confused look. "What are you doing?" I ask and he's now the one rolling his eyes at me. "Walking you to the door?" he nods towards my front door making me cross my arms over my chest.
"Why?" I cock my brow, "I'm perfectly capable of walking there myself" I argue but he looks down and chuckles. "I know, but I want to" he says when he looks back up at me, something about it making my heart flutter and therefore making me more susceptible to the whole idea.
"Fine" I say and it's at that point I notice the fact that he had in fact planned this. Him having parked in a visitor parking space and going through the effort of taking his helmet off as well. Clearly showing me he had no intention of leaving right away making me turn around to hide the no doubt embarrassed expression on my face.
His footsteps trail behind me as I walk over to the stairs, choosing to not take the elevator because the thought alone of being in that small of a space with him seems intimidating enough.
It's not like I'm on the fifth floor or something...just the third, making both of us slightly winded by the time we get to my door.
He waits as I unlock my door and when I turn around he still doesn't look like he's in much of a rush to leave. "You gonna head home?" I ask, tossing my keys on the hooks next to my door and he smile. "You're not gonna invite me in?" he asks, nodding inside and I look back assessing the state of it and decide it's in an okay state to have visitors.
"Do you wanna come inside?" I ask and he again clears his throat and looks away. Damn this boy has an even dirtier mind than I do. "Yeah um sure" he says, rubbing the back of his neck, the tips of his ears pink as if he wasn't the one that suggested this making me smile and walk in, leaving an open invitation.
He follows soon after and closes the door behind him, quietly since it's about to be three in the morning so he doesn't feel like contributing to me getting an eviction notice.
"It's been a while since you've been here huh?" I ask, grabbing both of us waters from the fridge with him nodding and taking it from me, making it a point to brush his fingers against mine before I pull back.
"Yeah. It looks a little different" he says while taking in some things he hadn't noticed before, one of which being my little black cat that does a big stretch before walking over to him, smelling him and circling around his legs as if he was sizing him up.
"I didn't know you had a cat" he says, leaning down and offering his hand down for him to get a little bit more familiar with his scent. "What's his name?" he asks, looking back up at me after having crouched down to pet him, seeing that he's taken a liking to him which surprises me to say the least.
"Shadow" I say and I can't help but smile at the sight. "Hi Shadow" he coos again leaving me caught off guard when Shadow starts purring. "He really never takes a real liking to strangers, or at least not this quickly" I say and he smiles before standing back up, leaving me looking back up at him again.
"I guess I'm just a likable guy" he jokes making me roll my eyes and sit down on the couch with him following after me. "You've got some pretty heavy duty curtains there" he points out, seeing my very dark, very black curtains to match my whole aesthetic.
"I have trouble sleeping sometimes so it's easier for me to keep as much light out that I can if I end up having to sleep during the day" I shrug and place my water down on the coffee table with him soon following after.
"Is that why you're so sleepy all the time?" he asks making me hum, "Yeah, sorry about that" I apologize but he smiles and shakes his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about, I'm just glad I'm able to help you get some sleep sometimes" he says, his smile soon turning shy making him look away.
His act of going in and out of shy to confident makes him that much more entertaining to me. With him although practically squirming under my gaze one second to practically giving me butterflies in the next. It's an interesting dynamic but one I don't put much thought into.
"Are you gonna have trouble sleeping tonight? You know with that long nap that you had" he says sheepishly as if he wasn't the one I had fallen asleep on.
"Maybe, but I'm used to it" I shrug my shoulders and he nods, clearly trying to think through what he wants to say next but before he's able to a loud thunder clap resounds through my apartment, making me almost jump into his lap, the sudden sound catching me off guard.
"You alright?" he asks and I clear my throat awkwardly, and sit back, going back to my respective side of the couch. "Yup totally fine, completely fine actually. How are you doing?" I babble, clearly giving myself away which now is amusing him.
"You're afraid of thunderstorms aren't you?" he asks, tilting his head at me and I nod, giving in right away because there's no use hiding this obvious answer.
"Are you gonna be able to sleep through it?" he asks and although I know what he's gonna offer next I don't want to take advantage of his kindness especially since I don't want him to end up thinking I led him on because I can't make up my mind in the future.
"Probably not" I admit and he hums, thinking about it for a second before saying what I knew he was going to. "I could stay...if you want?" he asks, not wanting to overstep but sensing from my body language alone that I might need someone.
"I-" "How about this. I don't really like the idea of riding my motorcycle in the middle of a thunderstorm so do you think you could offer me a place to stay for the night?" he asks, making me see that although I know he's doing this for me he does end up benefitting from it at least a little bit...or a lot a bit.
I think about it for a second and although I know I'm gonna say yes I can't help but hesitate. The thought of letting him stay making this whole thing I know we're starting to feel for each other that much more real.
"I guess it would be pretty shitty of me to kick you out in the rain huh?" I smile, wanting to add a little humor to the tension I clearly feel growing between us. "I mean it's your choice but I would really appreciate it if you didn't" he jokes making me smile.
"You can stay on one condition" I say and he hums at that but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have it any other way. "You have to sleep in my bed. My couch is too short and I'd feel horrible if you woke up with a kink in your neck or something because of it" I say and he gives me a cheeky smile.
"It would defeat the purpose if I slept anywhere else but with you. You know, so I can keep you calm through the storm?" he chuckles and I nod, glad that we're on the same page although for different reasons.
"Did you wanna borrow some clothes? I have some baggy sweats and your waist is pretty small from what I remember so they'd probably fit you" I ramble and I know at that point that I've said way too much when he gives me a wicked smile.
"Have you been checking me out y/n?" he asks and scoots just a bit closer. "No, no I just remember from the few times we've gone to the beach together. You know, with Sadie and Jayson?" I make excuses but he's not buying it.
"So you haven't been checking me out now but you did then?" his smile never leaving his face.
"Did you want the clothes or not?" I scowl making him even more enticed to keep teasing but he hums in agreement and watches as I jump up from the couch.
"Wait here" I say and he nods his head, resting his arm across the back of the couch and spreading his legs just a little wider than necessary with him shamelessly checking me out as much as I am with him.
I scurry off to my room though, the thought of crossing anymore lines with him than I'm about to already is something I'm not ready for yet...yet? No! I'm not ready for period! I'm not ready for anything like that and I don't want to put a strain on our relationship if something ends up happening.
I change and take some very much needed deep breaths before going back to the living room with the baggy set of clothes I had offered to him and see that he's started to explore. He takes a closer look at the pictures that I have hung up and zeroes in on one on my desk of Sadie and I in those aforementioned pictures I had mentioned.
"You looked really different here" he chuckles and I walk over and put the picture frame face down, not wanting him to have to see that image for any longer.
"I didn't have much of a choice back then. Plus you know that was the style back then" I explain and hand him the clothes before resting against the desk, making sure he doesn't try to look at it again.
He hums and takes the clothes making my eyes furrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask but he smiles and shakes his head. "Nothing" he says and places the clothes on the desk next to me.
"What do you mean it's nothing? It has to be something if you're acting like that" I huff and glare at him as he looks away, clearly more amused at this situation than I can comprehend. "I just had an image in my head of you always dressing like you usually do" he says and looks down at me, making me realize just how little space is left between us.
"How do I usually dress?" I ask, knowing the answer but wanting him to elaborate, wanting to know exactly what he thinks about the way that I dress. "You know, all dark and scary" he smirks and places both of his hands on either side of my hips on the desk, leaning down to my height making me back away from him.
"You think I'm scary?" I scoff and look away, trying to hide how much his close proximity has caught me off guard. "I used to" he hums making me look at him, his honesty although obvious is peculiar to admit at this point.
"And now?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper making the corner of his mouth upturn but before he's able to respond another roar of thunder smashes us out of our "Moment" if you could even call it that. Embarrassingly forcing me to cling onto him as if my life depended on it, with him on instinct wrapping his arms around my waist to keep me steady, now realizing just how scared I truly am.
"Hey, it's okay, you're okay" he says in a hushed tone, pulling me even closer, him feeling the rapid beating of my heart through my chest.
He rests his head on top of mine with me practically trying to crawl into his chest with how close I'm trying to be and he finds it endearing to say the least. "You're safe, I got you" he says, after another one roars, making me cling onto him, practically shaking at this point.
"How do you know?" I mumble against his chest and he pushes me away and leans down so he could be at my level. I look away again, this time trying to hide how completely embarrassed I am for being so scared of something that I know is silly but I can't help it.
He tilts his head trying to catch my glance and when that doesn't work he cups my cheek and brings me back over to him but even then in my stubbornness when I still won't look at him he tilts my chin up and I finally relinquish to his efforts.
"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you" he says softly and I nod before going back in, knowing that at the end of the day he's the one who's gonna keep me safe.
No matter what he's always gonna be there for me...and that's what scares me.
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Second chapter!! Happy Valentine's day <3
Bruce finds you at work and doesn't leave you alone.
< first chapter
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The next day at work, it all feels like a fever dream. Did you really meet Bruce Wayne? And talk to him all night? You feel a bit nauseous just thinking about it, but you just remind yourself that you'll never see him again. Even if you did get along really well...
Whatever, you'll just daydream about kissing him in the moonlight, that's just as fun as the real thing, right? Not that you could compare it to the real thing, you'd have to kiss someone at some point to know what it's like.
Maybe you should have kissed Bruce yesterday, he certainly seemed like he would have been ok with that, but that was probably just wishful thinking anyways. Oh well, too late now.
The bell that lets you know somebody entered the store rings and rips you out of your thoughts. Fuck. You hate when there's costumers, which is why you chose to work at the shittiest bookstore in Gotham. And are hiding in the back.
You're supposed to say something like "I'll be right with you!", but you're not going to do that. You hate talking loudly. Especially to strangers, especially when you can't even see them. But you never even say anything when you're out in the front and making direct eye contact with them, so whatever. You just hope they won't ask you for help with finding anything, just having to ring them up is bad enough...
Why do you have to get costumers at all? Fuck, you should really look for a job with less contact to people, but this is the best you've been able to find so far.
You reluctantly leave the safety of the back room, only to find a guy in an oversized hoodie and sunglasses absolutely beaming at you. Why is he looking at you like that? Should you know him?
Only when he takes the sunglasses off do you realize that it's Bruce. No way, how did he find you? You feel your palms getting sweaty.
"Finally! I found you! Do you know how hard it was to find this book store with the minimal description you gave me?"
Not hard enough, apparently, considering that he was able to find you this soon. It hasn't even been a full day!
He's still smiling at you. "I've been to multiple book stores this morning! I'm so glad you told me you'd be working today, or I would have had to ask everyone if you're one of their coworkers!"
"Yeah, well, if I had wanted you to show up here, I would have given you more details, probably." You deadpan, hoping your voice isn't shaking.
He's not deterred, he just keeps talking as if you hadn't said anything: "Wanna get lunch with me? When's your break? We could go to that café around the corner that I saw on my way here!"
Is he not getting that you don't want him here? Well, you do want him here, but you don't. You want him to think you don't want him here so he'll leave before you can embarrass yourself.
"I can't leave for my break, I have to stay here. I'm the only one working right now, I can't just- just lock up and get something to eat." Your boss actually allowed you to do just that, but when you came back from doing it the first time, an angry costumer was waiting for you and yelled at you for 10 minutes about how it's rude to just close the store in the middle of the day. You don't want a repeat of that, so you started eating your lunch at work whenever there were no costumers. Which is almost always, luckily.
"I could go get you something and we can eat here! It doesn't seem like you get a lot of costumers so we won't even be disturbing anyone!" Why is he so persistent? Can't he go talk to some supermodel or something?
"I'm not hungry." You kind of are, actually.
"That's fine, we can just talk! I just wanted to spend some time with you. You know, I haven't clicked with anyone like this in a long time, I couldn't just let you go."
Wait, is he serious? Well, why else would he go through the effort of looking for you... But still, you can't quite believe it. Are you being pranked?
"You should go. What if costumers start showing up? I'm sure you don't want some weird fan to recognize you."
Bruce ignores what you say and stays. He talks to you for about half an hour, well, mostly he talks at you, until he has to leave because his lunch break is over. You just stand there, perplexed. Does he really want to hang out with you?
He returns the next day. And the next. And the next. Every day, always during his lunch break. It takes a few times until you stop trying to ignore him, a few more times until you start actually talking to him, and a few more times until you agree to eat lunch with him. Not go anywhere else, just eat your own lunch at the bookstore.
You can't stop yourself from trying to push him away a little bit, though.
You put down your fork. "You know, it's rude of you to keep visiting me at work, where I can't just leave. This is basically harassment."
"If you want me to go, I'll go. Just say so, and I'll never show up here again, I promise."
You don't want him to leave. Well, you do, because you don't want to get even more attached, but you don't, because, well, you're getting attached. You can't bring yourself to make him leave.
You huff and roll your eyes. "Whatever." You pick your fork back up and continue eating.
He tries to suppress a smile. Gross. He's so cute.
Whenever he catches you playing a silly game on your phone (which is basically every time he enters the store, as you love slacking off), he insists on befriending you on it if possible, so when you're not hanging out he'll send you a booster on your candy-crush-esque game, or play against you on a quiz app.
Sometimes he uses the chat option there to tell you to go to sleep when it's late and he catches you playing, even though he's obviously awake as well! Hypocrite. It makes you smile every time.
One day while you're eating lunch together, a few months after he first showed up, he puts down his fork and says: "I think I need to make this more clear. I am interested in you romantically. I want to date you."
You almost spit out your lunch, but manage to swallow it without choking. "H- Wh- Huh? What?"
"We can just be friends, I'd love to be friends, we already are friends, in my opinion, but I would also love to date you. So if one day you decide that you want to date me, please let me know."
You already want to, but you will absolutely not be informing him of that, thanks. Asking for what you want? What are you, a well adjusted person? You blink owlishly at him instead of saying anything. That should suffice as a response, right? No, you should probably say something.
"...Look, even if I was interested in dating you—", which, again, you literally are, but why would you tell him that;
"—you're famous, and at some point it would come out that I was dating you, and the paparazzi would publish one single picture of me and I'd immediately panic so hard I would pass out and die. This—" You point your fork between the two of you. "—is already risky enough. Whatever this is, anyway."
Bruce, as always, chooses not to address the parts of what you were saying that were clearly your anxiety speaking and simply grins.
"So you do want to date me? It sounds to me like you're just looking for excuses. Don't worry, if I don't want anyone to know about you, noone will! People don't tend to recognize me when I'm not wearing a suit, especially in environments where they're not expecting me, so anywhere outside of my workplace and fancy parties. It's worked so far, hasn't it? Not a single person has recognized me here! Dating won't change that. So, if you do want to go on a date with me, just say the word. Please."
What word? Wait, he means that metaphorically, right? No, but seriously, what would you say, how would you say that without sounding totally weird?
"That's not what I was saying. At all. Stop misinterpreting me." You roll your eyes at him. He changes the topic, but he keeps smiling until he has to leave.
Lying awake that night, you think about what he said. Does he actually like you? Or is he just pretending, because he likes a challenge? Knew you'd be difficult to get close to, and he gets a kick from being someone's first relationship, kiss, everything, and then leaving them? You feel nauseous and you suddenly feel cold. How are you supposed to figure this out? You try to tell yourself that it's only your anxiety speaking, that Bruce is actually a nice person and wouldn't do that, but you can't quite convince yourself.
The next day, your way home after work (and after pretending your conversation with Bruce yesterday didn't happen, which luckily he played along with), you see something on the ground that reflects the light in a way that catches your eye.
What is that? It's kind of hidden behind a trash can.
You take a step closer, hoping it's not some kind of trap, but you can't think of a villain who would hide shiny things on the floor to kill civilians. At least not in that color, the Joker would make it colorful, and this object appears to be... black?
Oh, it's a Batarang! You've never seen one up close, but they can't be super rare with how often people online post about having found one, there's even one guy who collects them and has an entire wall plastered with them. Allegedly. People online are saying that most of them are probably replicas, but you can't tell, as you've never seen a real one. Until now.
That makes you think, just how many Batarangs does Batman have? More than enough if he let's random people keep them. You think about picking it up and taking it with you. It would be really cool to have a Batarang...
You reach out towards it, but stop right before you touch it. Is it stuck in the floor? Fuck, just how sharp are those things...?
Maybe you should leave it here, you'd just cut your hand open on it, trying to get it unstuck.
Plus, maybe Batman will find this one if you leave it here, and then re-use it! Reduce, re-use, recycle, Batman!
You leave it where you found it, after taking a few pictures of it as proof.
The next day, Bruce asks you if you did anything interesting yesterday, like he does every time he sees you. Usually you'd say no, but you did find that Batarang... Would Bruce care about that?
While you're contemplating, Bruce says: "You'd have said no by now if nothing had happened! Come on, please tell me?"
Fine! Whatever! You'll tell him, even if he'll probably think it's boring.
"Ok, so, on my way home yesterday... I found a Batarang. And, um, it got me thinking, well, first of all, how many of those does that guy have? If he's just leaving them lying around like that, right? Oh, and, it was so sharp, it was stuck in the floor, though I guess maybe that just means Batman is really strong? Either way, I thought he doesn't kill, right, but considering what he's working with it's a miracle no criminal has ended up dead yet, right?" You stop rambling, realizing that Bruce hasn't said anything yet. At least he appears to be amused.
"You have a lot of thoughts about Batman, huh?" He grins. "Yeah, he must have tons of those things, I've seen the posts. Did you take it with you?" He didn't respond to your killing thoughts... Oh well, you did give him a lot of information all at once.
"No, I didn't... But I thought about it! I mean, it seems like that's what everyone else is doing, but with it being stuck in the floor like that I was worried I would cut my hand open trying to get it unstuck! And with my luck there would have been germs or poison on it and my wound would have gotten infected, like, immediately, and I would have died. So I left it there for Batman to hopefully find again. I mean, he should probably be reusing the ones he already has, right? Reduce, reuse, recycle, I'm just helping Batman be more climate friendly!" There you go, rambling again.
Bruce seems almost too amused at all of this.
"Well, do you want it? I can come with you when your shift is over and help you get it unstuck, if you want. If nobody else has already taken it. I'm sure Batman won't mind. And if it ever comes out that he's not trying his best to be climate friendly, I'll personally go kick his ass, I promise."
"Uh. Um. You don't have to do that!"
"...Kick his ass or go get the batarang for you?"
"I meant getting the batarang, but also please don't fight Batman. He'd wipe the floor with you. No offense."
"Well, first of all, I think I'm just as strong as Batman-" You roll your eyes at him. Dork.
"And second of all, I don't have to get it for you, but I want to. Please let me?"
Ok. Fuck. Whatever. This is the first time you'll be seeing him outside of work, excluding your first meeting.
"Uh. Ok? I, um, my shift ends at 8."
"I'll pick you up in front of the store, then. It's a date!"
"Uh! No, well, yes, but, it- um-"
"I'm just teasing you." He winks at you. Winks! Is he trying to kill you? You turn your face towards your food so you don't have to look at him. Asshole. Stop being so hot.
Later, at 8, he's already waiting for you in front of the store while you're locking up.
"Ready to go?" He smiles.
"Uh, yeah! Sure!"
You start leading the way to where you found the batarang, talking about whatever comes to mind on the way.
Finally, about halfway on your way home, you reach the place where the batarang should be. You hope it's still there, but somebody else could have taken it. You push the trashcan it was behind to the side, and...
There it is!
"Look, it's still here!" You turn around to Bruce, smiling. He smiles back. You fight the urge to giggle or hide your face behind your hands, he needs to stop being so cute.
"Didn't you say it's stuck in the ground? Why wouldn't it be here anymore?"
"Uh, you said you'd help me get it out? Somebody else could have done the same thing!"
"Right. But they don't have my getting batarangs unstuck from the ground skills."
You roll your eyes. How often could Bruce have come in contact with a batarang? His only advantage compared to you is that he's stronger and not afraid of cutting his hand open. At least that's what you think.
You watch as he grabs the batarang and gets it unstuck in seconds. Seriously? It was that easy?
"Woah. I think I would have been able to do that myself, that looked super easy. Sorry to have made you come all this way..." Apparently it wasn't stuck in there as much as you thought? Even if a considerable part of it disappeared beneath the ground. Hm. Weird. Maybe there was a batarang shaped hole there before it landed there? Or Bruce is just a lot stronger than he looks.
"No, I'm glad I came along! I wouldn't have wanted you to cut yourself accidentally." He wraps the batarang in a piece of fabric. Some kind of rich people tissue, maybe.
"Let me carry it home for you?" He looks at you in a way that makes you melt a little bit. Ok, fine.
"Oh, uh, sure!" You did enjoy walking around with him. And not just because walking with someone in Gotham is safer than doing it alone.
"Also we could maybe order dinner? And eat together at your place?" And let him into your apartment that's not cleaned up? That looks shitty even when it is cleaned up?
"Don't push it."
"Or we could go somewhere? I'll pay, of course."
And absolutely embarrass yourself and make him never want to see you again and talk about you to journalists that you're a horrible person, which gets published in every newspaper ever so you have to move and change your name? Ok, maybe that was a bit dramatic.
Bruce can clearly see the anxiety on your face.
"It doesn't have to be a date, if you don't want that."
Be brave! Be brave! You can do this!
"Uh." You almost choke on your words. "And... if I do... want that...?"
You might actually pass out, this is horrible. If he doesn't respond in less than a second, your flight response is going to win and you'll run away. And quit your job, so he can't find you again.
"That would be wonderful! We can take it slow, ok? Absolutely no pressure to do anything you don't want to do whatsoever, I promise."
You nod, not feeling brave enough to say anything. Maybe those were your last words ever.
"So... Dinner at your place? As a date?"
You nod again. Shit, fuck. Are you actually going to date Bruce Wayne? What were you thinking? Wait, does going on one date even mean you're 'dating' him? What's the definition here?
You start walking again, leading Bruce to where you live. If he hates your apartment and leaves and you never see him again that's fine and you'll be able to handle it, right? But that won't happen, so calm down. But if it did happen, you'll be fine and ok and fine. It's fine! Oh fuck, what if you misunderstood him? Did he even mean dinner tonight? Are you embarrassing yourself by assuming he'll come with you right now?
Bruce walks right beside you and starts talking again.
"I'll order. What do you want?" While saying this, he puts an arm around your shoulder. You tense. Woah.
"You said you'd take it slow!" Look at that, you can talk again.
"Too much?" Yes. But also no. But yes. But no.
"I don't know! Maybe?" He takes his arm away and you can breathe again, but somehow at the same time you miss his warmth.
"Don't worry, I'll take it so slow. The slowest. You won't regret dating me, I promise. This'll be so much fun, you'll see." He smiles.
You don't know about that, but you do know that at the very least it'll be interesting. You hope he won't notice you looking up what the definition of dating is on your phone while he's ordering food later.
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OR, and feel free to skip, obviously!!!
“c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.” with Poppy and Nico pre-On Your Side?
✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩
4. “c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.” WITH PRE OYS NICO AND POPPY THE DREAM REQUEST!!!! ILYSM FOR THIS
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"You don't look like you're dying," Poppy hears the hum of a low voice muse, all too lost in her work until she looks up from her computer to see those familiar dark eyes gleaming back at her from across her desk.
She smiles up at Nico, tight lipped and guilty at the sight of the slight pants of breath he is taking - obviously having run over from wherever else in the Rock he might have been.
Sending an SOS text with thirteen exclamation marks might have been a little excessive, but it had felt necessary at the time - and hey, he might have even broken some sort of world record, she only sent it a few minutes ago.
"Hi," she says, tone sweet and smile even sweeter, now. "Thanks for coming."
"You can't abuse SOS texts, Poppy," he huffs, lowering himself onto the edge of her desk, "If you did that in the military, you'd be dishonourably discharged."
"Good thing we're not in the military, then."
"Speak for yourself," he grumbles.
"You're hardly G.I. Joe, Nico." Poppy scoffs, "We both know you really did your service to get pictures for your dating apps."
"You're the one who told me to use them," he leans over to flick at her shoulder playfully, "What do you want?"
She wants to immediately rid herself of the thoughts of him in those photos - looking all official and handsome, but unfortunately it isn't that easy. "Uhh," she drags out while she tries to get her momentum back, shifting awkwardly in her spinny chair in the middle of her cubby and telling herself that friends don't think of friends in uniform like that. "I need a favour."
"And you had to give me a heart attack to ask for it?"
"I thought you were the embodiment of physical health?" she chimes back, shaking her head to get it back in the game, "Doesn't matter, you're not distracting me again. You know Michael, the guy who's office that is," Poppy points to the office in the corner - one of the nicest on the floor, with a window in the corner and it's own private bathroom. "He handed in his resignation this morning, and Elaine is dividing his projects out to all us lowly cubby losers."
"You're not a cubby loser-,"
"I am, and I'm okay with it, because I have a way out."
"Let me guess, I'm your way out?"
"Let's not get an ego about it," she scoffs, "But yes. One of his projects is Hockey In New Jersey, you know with all the cute kids? And I want it. And if I can go to her and tell her I convinced the team captain to get involved, then I'm a shoe in for it. Which means I'm a shoe in for that prime piece of real estate in the corner over there."
"I see," he hums, lips twisting as he watches the passion for her job consume her - sees the determination in her eyes, and the unwavering confidence that the 13 foot by 13 foot space on the other side of the floor will be hers.
"So the favour is that you agree to come with me to one of the rinks next Thursday, and we do a bunch of cool sessions and get some really great photos for the website," she gestures with her hands as if trying to guide him through the concept, and the amusement never shifts from his gaze, "And I know that it's technically your day off, and the last thing you probably want is to be in work mode, especially around a bunch of kids, but-,"
"Poppy," Nico chuckles, cutting her off with a quick press of his hand to her forearm, the touch startling her into immediate silence, staring at him with her mouth agape, "It's fine, I'll do it."
"Really?" She asks, to which he just nods in return, a soft smile like it's really no skin off his back to agree. "I was about to offer to bribe Jess to stay away from you for all other media activity for the next month."
"C'mon," he snorts, "Like I need an excuse to spend time with you. This can be my Valentines present for this year." He shrugs, like the concept of the two of them exchanging gifts for Valentines Day of all holidays is no big deal. Like that's something that just friends do.
Poppy hadn't even realised that next Thursday is Valentines Day, a flush suddenly rising up her neck as she thinks about the implications - but he hadn't seemed too disturbed by the idea, so probably best not to bring it up.
"We get each other presents for Valentines, now?" She leans onto her elbows on her desk, looking up at him as he gives one of those slow smiles back, cheeks dimpling and lips stretching softly.
"I've been getting you Valentines presents for the last two years, Mohn," he twists a little from his position atop the edge of her desk - the movement causing the pens in her pot to rattle, and Poppy can see one of her co-workers looking over from the corner of her eye. She can't wait to get this project out of the way - to solidify herself on the team enough that she's entrusted with her own office, because meet-ups like this with Nico are hard when there's little to no privacy.
"I think I'd know if we were exchanging gifts, Nico." she scoffs.
"I didn't say exchanging," he mimics her fondly, "I said I've been getting them for you."
She frowns, trying to think back to the previous couple of years, and anything Nico might have given her around this time.
She usually spends Valentines with her girls - she hasn't really had a serious boyfriend in a while, especially not one that stays around for the holidays - and the only thing she can think of is the heart-shaped heating pad Nia had given her last year.
Nico picks a pen from Poppy's pot and taps it against the side of her mug, the one that says I Heart NJ that she keeps in the office and drinks out of every day. The mug that Nico had brought her a drink of tea in last year when she was a little under the weather, and she had been using ever since.
"Shut up, this was a Valentines gift?" she gasps, lowering her voice so she doesn't garner the attention of Mr Nosey-Pants across the room.
"It has a heart on it, doesn't it?"
Poppy frowns then, staring down at the mug. She didn't even know it was technically from him - just thought it was something he had brought over and she had subsequently claimed as her own.
And now she feels bad - thinking he's been sneaking her gifts this whole time and she's never even spared a thought to getting him anything back.
"We're gonna have to take it in turns now," she huffs, not liking that he has been making an effort to do something for her and she hasn't been doing the same, "Next year, I'm gonna give you the biggest and best Valentines present you've ever gotten in your life, to make up for the years I missed."
"I look forward to it, Mohn." he laughs, lowly, his cheeks dimpling and dark eyes gleaming back at her, nudging at her ankle to shift her attention back from where it had fallen to his smile before he says, "What was it you were saying about no media activity, again?"
#*WHISPERS* NEXT VALENTINES SHE'S PREGNANT WITH HIS CHILD HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA#nico hischier#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier x oc#💌.valentinesevent#*writing#oys!asks#technically#MY BABIES I MISSED THEM THANK YOU FOR THIS#also the I heart NJ mug is in OYS lmao what a callback she's. GENIUS!!!#.ve
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Hi, could you write a fic where the team gets food poisoning? Maybe Rupert did something to change their catering before a big match or Shandy comes back with a vengeance. And now PA has to take care of the whole Richmond team?
Thanks
Drabble - Everyone's PA
Masterlist
Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader
TW: cursing, mentions of puking and food poisoning
A/N: Hi I changed the context a little and made it a vengeance from West Ham in general hope its still good. Thank you for the request!
In all her time as Jamie Tartt’s PA, Y/N had dealt with her fair share of absolute disasters. She had smoothed over last-minute schedule changes, tracked down missing passports, and even fished Jamie’s car keys out of the fridge once when he was convinced someone had stolen them. But this? This was something else entirely.
The AFC Richmond locker room looked like the aftermath of a battlefield. Players were sprawled across benches, the floor, and, in some cases, curled up in the fetal position near the walls, groaning in pure misery. Others were fighting for dominance over the toilets. The air was thick with suffering, the kind only brought on by the worst kind of intestinal betrayal.
“Jesus Christ,” Y/N stood at the entrance, arms crossed, surveying the wreckage with a mixture of horror and resignation. “What the hell happened in here?”
Colin, who was lying flat on his back with one arm dramatically thrown over his forehead, barely cracked open one eye to look at her. “This is it. This is how we die.”
From the other side of the room, Sam let out a pathetic whimper, his forehead pressed against a bench as he clutched his stomach. “I have never known pain like this.”
“Don't let my mum find out I went out like this,” Isaac mumbled from his position near the showers, face pale and eyes vacant as if he had already accepted his fate.
The sound of someone retching echoed from the bathrooms. Y/N grimaced. “Oh my God. Could someone please tell me what happened?”
Jamie, the only one still upright—though he was leaning against the wall for dear life—lifted his head just enough to look at her, his face pale and sweaty. “It was the food,” he croaked, voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking took too much effort.
She stared at him. “What food?”
“The Chinese stuff,” he murmured, wincing slightly as he shifted his weight. “West Ham sent over food. Said it was a gift to congratulate us on the win. Every one of us ate it.”
Y/N blinked. Then blinked again.
And then she let out a slow, measured breath through her nose, rubbing her temples as she processed just how monumentally stupid that was.
“You’re telling me,” she said, her voice eerily calm, “that you all decided to eat a massive amount of free food from West Ham—a team that hates Richmond—without even checking where it came from? From your fucking rival.”
Jamie hesitated, then gave a small shrug. “...Yeah? Maybe they wanted to be friends or somethin'.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Oh, you absolute idiots.”
“Oi,” Jamie pouted, though it lacked his usual energy. “How were we supposed to know it was dodgy?”
“I don’t know, Jamie. Maybe because it came from West Ham? Or maybe because this particular restaurant is literally known for having health code violations? Did that not set off any alarm bells for you? Could've googled it.”
Jamie blinked at her, then turned his head slightly to where Dani Rojas was curled up in a ball, moaning weakly in Spanish.
“…Fair point,” Jamie admitted.
Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. “So, let me get this straight. All of you ate it?”
“Not Will,” Dani mumbled, barely lifting his head.
Y/N turned her gaze to the one person in the room who seemed completely fine. Will, the kitman, stood off to the side, sipping a juice box, looking mildly concerned but otherwise unaffected.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you fine?”
Will shrugged. “I don’t trust free food.”
Jamie let out a weak, pitiful groan. “Wish I didn’t.”
Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “This is unbelievable.” She turned back to Jamie, crossing her arms. “Can you at least help me sort this mess out?”
Jamie, bless him, made a valiant effort to push off the wall and stand on his own, attempting to look capable and useful. The moment he took a step forward, however, his legs wobbled, and he immediately stumbled, barely catching himself before he hit the floor.
Y/N sighed. “Right. So I’m on my own.”
She cracked her knuckles, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work.
For the next three hours, Y/N played nurse to a whole Premier League team. Will did help her a little...
She handed out water bottles and electrolyte tablets like she was running a triage unit. She forced them to sip ginger tea and chew on dry crackers to keep something in their stomachs. She confiscated Jan Maas’ gym bag when he attempted to head for a workout, claiming he could “sweat out the poison.”
“That is not how food poisoning works, Jan.”
"In the Netherland's we heal like this, pain is the best medicine."
"Fuckin' hellllll...."
She physically wrestled Jamie’s phone out of his hands when he attempted to tweet, “West Ham is full of ops. This means war.”
“I will delete your whole account, Tartt.”
"The people want to know how Jamie Tartt is doin' and he's doin' pretty shit right now, love. Literally."
At one point, Ted came in and tried to help, but his version of helping consisted mostly of telling food-related motivational stories about resilience and the importance of trusting one’s gut—while an entire team of men clutched their stomachs in agony. She had to politely but firmly push him out of the room.
By the time the worst of it had passed, she was exhausted.
She flopped onto the worn-out couch in the locker room, sighing deeply as she finally allowed herself to relax.
Jamie, looking only marginally less like death, shuffled over and unceremoniously plopped his head onto her lap.
She glanced down at him, raising an eyebrow. “You reek.”
“ 'M still fit, though,” he murmured, voice raspy from hours of misery.
She let out a dry laugh. “Debatable.”
Jamie smirked up at her, eyes twinkling with something just a little softer than his usual cockiness. “I know you think so, love.”
She rolled her eyes but ran her fingers through his messy hair anyway, smoothing it away from his forehead.
Jamie sighed contently, melting against her like a cat in a sunbeam. “Dunno what we’d do without you.”
Y/N huffed. “Probably die.”
Jamie hummed. “Yeah. But like… in a funny way, yeah?”
She groaned. “You’re insufferable.”
He grinned sleepily. “And yet, here you are, takin’ care of me and my whole team.”
She flicked his forehead. “Shut up and sleep.”
Jamie let out a soft chuckle but obeyed, closing his eyes as he relaxed against her.
Y/N sighed, staring down at him, then looking around at the absolute chaos that had unfolded in the last few hours.
This was her life.
And, God help her, she wouldn’t change it for anything.
By the time the worst of the food poisoning had passed, most of the team had either passed out from sheer exhaustion or been picked up by loved ones. Isaac’s mum had come to get him (which was both adorable and terrifying), Sam had been whisked away by Simi, and Dani had somehow mustered enough energy to call an Uber before dramatically collapsing into the backseat.
That just left Jamie.
Jamie, who was currently draped across one of the benches, looking like he’d just survived a near-death experience. He had one arm lazily slung over his stomach, his head lolling to the side as he gave Y/N his best sad, pathetic, I-need-you-to-feel-bad-for-me eyes.
“Everyone’s gone,” she pointed out, pulling on her coat. “You should probably call an Uber to take you home. Maybe Keeley or Roy can come get you.”
She was hoping he liked that idea because she wouldn't let this pukey striker in her car.
Jamie let out a long, pitiful sigh, blinking up at her as if she’d just suggested he attempt to walk to his house on broken legs. “Can’t. Keeley’s in Ibiza, Roy would never get me, you know me mums in Manchester and I basically pay you to take care of me, soooo.”
She frowned and asked him innocently. “What about one of the lads?”
Jamie groaned. “They’re all just as fucked as me, babe. Most of them are already gone.”
He wasn’t wrong.
But that didn’t mean she wanted to deal with him personally.
She sighed, rubbing her temple. “You could just—”
Before she could even suggest getting an Uber again, Jamie turned the full force of his kicked-puppy expression on her.
“Please?” he murmured, voice hoarse and pitiful.
And damn him, because he knew she couldn’t say no to him when he looked like that.
Y/N let out a long, suffering groan. “Fine. Get your sorry pretty ass up. You're lucky I get paid for this.”
Getting Jamie into the car was an ordeal.
First, he claimed he was too weak to stand, so she had to practically drag him out of the locker room. Then, once they were in the car, he decided that sitting upright was too much effort, so he slouched down in the passenger seat, legs sprawled, head leaning against the window like some tragic poet contemplating the meaning of life.
“You’re so dramatic,” she muttered, pulling out of the parking lot.
Jamie cracked one eye open. “You love it.”
She shot him a glare. “I tolerate it.”
He grinned, but it was lazy, barely-there—like even teasing her was taking too much energy.
For the first few minutes, it was quiet. Peaceful, even. Y/N started to think maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be so bad.
And then Jamie groaned.
“Ugh, my stomach hurts,” he whined, shifting in his seat.
Y/N tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah, Jamie, that’s what happens when you eat poisoned food.”
“D’you think it’s real food poisoning? Or just, like… West Ham curse poisoning?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s real food poisoning, you idiot.”
Jamie hummed, clearly unconvinced.
A beat of silence. Then—
“I think I’m gonna be sick.”
Y/N immediately slammed on the brakes, sending Jamie lurching forward with an undignified squawk.
“Oh my God,” she hissed. “Do not throw up in my car.”
Jamie groaned dramatically, leaning his forehead against the window. “Pull overrrr.”
She swerved into the first available parking lot, barely getting the car into park before Jamie threw open the door and stumbled out.
Y/N sighed, leaning her head against the steering wheel as she listened to him retching into the bushes.
This was, officially, the worst night of her life.
After a few minutes, Jamie crawled back into the car, looking even paler than before, but at least he wasn’t actively vomiting anymore.
She handed him a water bottle. “Drink.”
Jamie took it, sipped it weakly, then let out a tired sigh, leaning his head back against the seat. “You’re a saint, y’know that?”
She snorted. “More like an idiot for agreeing to this.”
Jamie cracked a small smile. “Still. Thanks.”
Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, simply pulling back onto the road.
By the time they got to Jamie’s house, he was half-asleep, mumbling incoherent nonsense about chickens and West Ham’s bad vibes. She had to help him inside, guiding him toward the couch as he slumped against her like a deadweight.
“Alright,” she muttered, helping him lie down. “You’re home. You’re alive. My job here is done.”
But before she could pull away, Jamie grabbed her wrist, blinking up at her blearily.
“Stay?” he murmured.
Y/N hesitated. “Jamie…”
“Just till I fall asleep,” he mumbled, already halfway there. “Promise.”
She sighed, looking down at him—his tired face, his messy hair, the way he still managed to look stupidly attractive even while on the brink of death.
She was so going to regret this.
But still, she sat down beside him.
Jamie hummed in contentment, shifting slightly so his head rested against her thigh. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, soft and steady.
Y/N leaned her head back against the couch, sighing deeply.
Maybe she was an idiot for always putting up with Jamie Tartt’s nonsense.
But as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair, she figured it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
#jamie tartt#ted lasso#ted lasso show#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x you#afc richmond#jamie tartt imagine#roy kent#sam obisanya#Jamie Tartt x PA
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Coffee: A Thangyu Oneshot
——————
Pairing: Thanos x Nam-gyu
Warnings: None!
Summary: Nam-gyu is a barista; Thanos is a regular customer. Flirting induces. Normal coffee shop AU.
Word Count: 611
——————
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air strongly as Nam-gyu wiped down the counter of the small cafe, which was tucked away in a quiet corner of Seoul. It wasn't the busiest coffee shop, which is what drew him to working here- there were just enough customers that kept them in business, which kept him a job and kept boredom out of the picture, but it was never truly overwhelming.
The door chimed while his back was turned, so he looked up at the clock. It was a few minutes after 11 am, so he knew who it was.
Thanos showed up here nearly every day, like clockwork, maybe missing a Friday or two every now and then. The purple-haired man always ordered an espresso, no sugar or milk. He was a regular, although he and Nam-gyu had never had any extensive conversations. However, his mere presence was enough to unsettle a few of the other customers that were there at any given moment, usually to leach off of the free wi-fi. He was broad-shoulder with sharp, manic eyes, with a strong aura around him, causing Nam-gyu to wonder about him more and more. Who was this man?
"Your usual?" Nam-gyu asked, reaching for the cup before the other could respond.
Thanos gave a short nod. "Yeah," he said. His voice was a bit raspy, like gravel shifting under boots. It was deep and smooth, also, despite the raspiness. Nam-gyu really liked hearing this man's voice.
Nam-gyu took his time preparing the espresso, watching Thanos out of the corner of his eye. He looked more exhausted than usual, with dark circles under his eyes. His shoulders slumped as well. Nam-gyu rose an eyebrow. Maybe he could cheer him up?
So, instead of immediately placing the cup in front of him, he hesitated. "Do you ever think about trying something different?"
Thanos looked a bit surprised by the sudden question. He arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms tightly in front of his chest. "Like what?"
Nam-gyu smirked. "I don't know. Maybe something sweet for a change?" He listed off a couple options, maintaining eye contact. "A caramel macchiato? A vanilla latte?"
Thanos chuckled a bit. The sound caused Nam-gyu to feel his face start burning, although it was a low heat; probably not even noticeable. He had never heard the other laugh before."I don't do sweets."
"Figures." Nam-gyu slid the espresso across the counter to the other man with an easy grin on his lips. "Bitter suits you."
Thanos picked up the cup, hesitating a little before he finally took a sip. He grinned back at Nam-gyu. "Then what suits you?"
Nam-gyu leaned forward, hands made up in fists underneath his chin, elbows on the counter. "Me?" He fake thought about it for a moment. "I like to switch it up every time. It's a small thing, but it keeps life a little more interesting."
For a moment, Thanos just looked at the other. The sharp eyes that Nam-gyu grew more fond of every time he saw him scanned his face. He hummed quietly, intrigued. "Okay, fine," he pointed at him with his free hand. Nam-gyu noticed his fingernails were painted a variety of different colors. "Next time, you pick for me then."
Nam-gyu smiled. "Careful," he teased, "You may regret it."
Thanos shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "I doubt it."
Just like that, the cafe felt a little warmer. Thanos walked out, waving a little to the other man. Nam-gyu excitedly turned to the menu, scanning it over and over any time he got the chance.
He was ready to make this good.
#nam gyu#player 124#oneshot#oneshot book#thangyu#fanfic#thanos#thanos x nam gyu#fanfiction#squid game#thagyu#230 x 124#namgyu squid game#player 230#squid game s2#squid game 2
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first week back at school and ahhhhhh everything is a little overwhelming currently
- my living space is full of boxes i have simply not had the energy to unpack at all.... hopefully this weekend (but i have also been invited to a Social Event so WE SHALL SEE)
- this school year is going to have So Much Important Stuff happening inbetween the many weeks of practice placement
- such as The Academic Text
- AND i need to finish the big project i was supposed to have finished ages ago
- our teacher this year speaks swedish with a very thick french accent and i speak norwegian with a dialect, we really struggle to understand one another but maybe hopefully that will change over time.... please...........
- i'm stressed about Stupid Bureaucracy Stuff
- and im so so sleepytired :(((
- and it's too humid and warm for comfort :(((((
AT LEAST I HAVE CUTE SOCKS
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purchased in a distraught jetlag haze and subsidized by my travel insurance. they're my favourites now
#swedenquest#everything happens so much :(((#but i will be okay...!!!!!!!! no unsolicited advice please#in fact i have been given resources for metacognitive therapy to fight my brain demons and im excited to get more into that#but also how am i supposed to read anything under these circumstances.#tomorrow is self study day and if i wasn't so stressed about Big Project I would've made myself stay at home and rest/unpack#ill simply have to compromise. sleep a little bit longer; couple hours of tinkering at school#take it easy but take it!!!!#also god i was first out to have kitchen cleaning responsibilities this week#which isnt Hard u just need to run the break room dishwasher and take out the trash BUT#the trash bags are the worst quality trash bags i have ever encountered. they tore at my touch.#i tried so hard to remove the trash from the trash cans in a neat and professional manner but it all kept falling apart#and next thing you know there's coffee grounds all over the floor and everyone looks at you with pity#i got some help but it was so stressful and Bad#and there's someone in the 2nd year who keeps emptying the dishwasher even tho it's not their turn and I WOULD DO IT IF U WAITED FIVE MINUT#they did this all the time last year too and it's like. i get that they're stressed out by dishes in the sink or whatever i really do get i#but it's really messing with the system and like... teaching everyone else to not contribute??? because they don't even get to??#AND i lost at minigolf with like 20 more points than everyone at my team#which i genuinely wouldn't mind except i dragged the average score down so bad we could never have won anything#FIRST WEEK OF SCHOOL GOING FINE
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Full Tech Day One pic today from kiko laureano (denizen of skid row / ensemble) & video (that's four seconds of "ya never know" playing over the static image) from & ft. marcia milgrom dodge (director / choreographer) double captioning "there might be puppets in this musical ;)" & "Well Shake my hand! Come see LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS @guthrietheater featuring @actually_will_roland's hand!"
#buzz lightyear screenshot i don't believe that's a puppet Or will roland's hand#lsoh#frog & toad shirt yay :) that i believe is saying ''frog & toad are gay'' yahoooo#in unfamiliarity with lsoh: had to look up that snippet of song. i do enjoy the full Songs i should straightup....pick an album of them?#which; relevantly to this being a show with Versions. also like i've only seen the movie once a minute ago....#i know the movie Differed like the musical going well audrey dies then so also does seymour :( does one tragicomically lose a hand first#classic Hey My Hand :( maneuver :( still i reflect on the change like i don't want them to die.... :(#it's Enriching though to reflect on. like a fun balance of ''is there shortcomings of Metaphors? maybe but it's backed up by Story''#then are there shortcomings of story? maybe but it's backed up by how that'll play into a strength of metaphor. makes it Overall Enjoyable#and that i'm not an expert like plenty to muse on re: what are the Metaphors. and then how are they executed. what do i think#and i'm enrichingly not quite settled on Should They Get To Survive; Metaphorically? like i think it's fine either way#i mean we also Have it both ways lol. i think? i don't know about past or present variations versions iterations re: Onstage Medium#it's like it's supposed to be tragic too right right cautionarily so. yet. i indeed go :( about it. i think it's fine it's fine....#or do i. as you can see lmao a fun In Progress mental journey....like pointing to Doomed Tragic Couple iphegenia crash land falls#i would Not change it i would not Want it changed. not even for a what if; really. yet their basis is Knowing They're Kindredly Doomed.....#seymour and audrey are just america's little t4t couple who Do deserve to murder orin plant or no & More :(#much to consider. and always little Invocations to spice things up like & this plant won't stop trying to fuck them i guess#nodding thoughtfully as we are also amidst aesthetics that invoke larger contexts re: race; class; maybe even. gender. and more????#love a lot going on. love that it's really not trying to Be extremely settled in some Conclusive manner in any version. tends to be a win#and love that SPIT TAKE rick moranis walking on into the closing performance of be more chill on broadway???????#enjoy that one post of [god's mistake of making me so incredibly attracted to rick moranis] '80s gum stickers. ricky m#guy who's never seen kapow-i gogo seeing another show with a prop hand: wow this is just like kapow-i gogo
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i'm like i have nothing to be stressed about and then i'm having a breakdown in the car and then i'm like oh okay maybe i do have things to be stressed about
#number one. living with my parents. that shit is INSUFFERABLE#there is never a break from the questions and the prying and the needing to know everything i'm doing and everywhere i'm going#and what i'm eating and how much i'm eating and how i slept and when i slept and how long i slept etc etc etc#i'm only working four days a week but i'm working two jobs and it's beginning to wear on my nerves#my mother was like we're going out last night. then they didn't go out. frustrating but whatever#then this morning she says oh i don't think we need you at work today#i'm like thank god i'm so tired i can go back to bed. ten minutes later she changes her mind and then gets mad that i'm frustrated#she's like well I WORK SIX DAYS A WEEK#YOU WORK FROM HOME MOST OF THE TIME AND YOU MAKE YOUR OWN HOURS. WE ARE NOT THE SAME#also i have to work fine but don't dangle a day off in front of me and then take it back#i'm planning on leaving this job soon to go full time at my other job WHICH WAS ALWAYS THE PLAN and she's full tilt guilting me about it#i still haven't heard back from any schools and i can't start planning my next steps until i do#i can't start planning ANYTHING until my primary job officially takes me on full time#no idea when that will be!#and then what. if i get into school i move back to canada. if i don't get into school do i still move back to canada?#do i go south? do i stay fucking put? I DON'T KNOW. and ALSO#collaborating on music with **** is all fun and games until i keep writing lyrics i cant share with him because they're OBVIOUSLY about him#also i have no time to work on any songs because i'm NEVER ALONE THERE IS ALWAYS SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE#re: **** i'm being so normal about it i'm smiling and saying have fun visiting your long distance girlfriend. whose name is my deadname. :)#then just minor things like i'm booked for a haircut next week which is stressful in itself#i have a LOT of baggage with hair cutting in general and also people touching my hair. also i don't know what i want to do with it exactly#and my citizenship interview is in less than a month and it's not that i'm worried but what happens if they don't give it to me?#would they revoke my greencard? i mean that would be insane right? but who fucking knows at this point#okay so maybe i have a couple of things to be stressed about
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you don't like the inability to go back through the reblog chain because it makes it harder to 'prev tags'; I don't like the inability to go back through the reblog chain because it makes it harder to reblog a version of the post without an annoying comment, especially when some of the blogs involved are deactivated; we are not the same
#not rebloggable cuz I am just whining. I do not actually care about your stance on prev tags.#I have used them on occasion. I find them useful for responding to applauding someone's tags when it's too small for a full convo.#and I am uninterested in my activity becoming a battleground against staff.#but also it does drive me nuts when I'm like 'man this whole chain is great except for the last comment#which is not emotionally wrong but is factually inaccurate on one minute point that I am nonetheless going to split hairs about'#anyway this one was giving terfs too much credit for having come up with radfem theory and like.#terfs/exclusionists as their contemporary movement are new (and more importantly louder and more effective).#but this is a new iteration of radfems who have been kicking since the 60s at least.#audre lorde and bell hooks were not writing against radfems in particular long before you were born#for you to claim that feminism always unilaterally agreed on the fact that men are also negatively affected by the patriarchy.#like it's FINE if you don't know that but. it is a minute point that is nonetheless important to me not to repeat. ANYWAY.#not me going through a whole bunch of wikipedia pages cuz I second guessed myself about facts.#and I couldn't just be WRONG if I was mad about people being minutely wrong now could I.
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Hey CJ 👋 I hope you’re doing well in life.
I’m on the same page as you, when it comes to taking a step back from TWDG & the fandom. And, coming back to the games after sometime & seeing it in a different light. Some things that didn’t click with you back then, makes a bit more sense now.
Also, I’m curious.. what are thoughts on true colors? Steph & Ryan? 👀
Hello, my friend! 👋 Been a while! But yeah, I'm doing fine; a lot of the usual work with writing fic and blog posts in between.
Yeah it's funny to step away from a fandom you're so engrossed in for so long, like twdg was such a huge part of my life back in 2018-2020 with me running this blog, writing fic, and streaming. Now I'm just in a completely different headspace in general, and looking at the games now, they're still amazing but my reasonings are different. Also I talk about the comics a lot, which isn't something I would've guessed I'd be doing. If you go back to when they were announced, I made posts being like "yeeeeeah I dunno if I'm gonna read them :/" jokes on me. I read them multiple times, I need to make that useful haha.
As for LiS True Colors, I actually super loved it?? way more than I ever did the first LiS game?? though I think I might've loved it for the wrong reasons. I don't know, I haven't actually looked into what LiS fans thought of it compared to the other games, but for me it was a "perfect time, perfect place" game in the moment. To me the whole thing was nearly a perfect escapism game; the music is an A+, the entire town is gorgeous and covered in flowers and woods, Alex gets to live in a nice apartment for free [the true fantasy], there's a whole LARP campaign to play through, a flower festival where I've never been so conflicted on who to give a rose to, and overall just the coziest vibes. I swear, I spent most of the game just wandering around the town looking at all the flowers, it was great.
Like if Gabe didn't die and True Colors was just about Alex moving to this fantasy-like small town and working through her issues with the help of her powers, I would've been 100% on board. I didn't mind the mystery, though I totally guessed Jed would be the twist villain given the first episode immediately presents him as a hero who saved a bunch of people in the mines, I was like "Oh did he now... mmhmmm mmhmmm and he's Ryan's dad, oohhh he's gonna be this game's Jefferson-" except he was done better than Jefferson imo. He didn't turn into a cartoon character and his motivations behind the cover up were interesting. He didn't do it for the aesthetic like Jefferson did. And in the end I got everyone to side with me, except Charlotte because I told her to take the money so she wanted to speak out but couldn't, which was honestly fine with me like take their money, send Ethan to college, we'll stab Typhon just fine without your vocal support.
I liked most of the characters, except for Diane and Mac, though I reluctantly disliked Mac less by the end... Diane can suck an egg, though. I don't think I've ever wanted to throw a character out a window more than when Alex came back all bloodied with a bullet wound on her head as she exposed the truth and when she asks why no one's saying anything, Diane just goes, "We don't want to embarrass you" kjlkajdslkjalkjdl LADY DON'T PISS ME OFF
As for Ryan and Steph, I liked them both, trying to choose between them was absurdly difficult. It was like True Colors saw how easily I picked between Louis and Violet and took it as a challenge to create Ryan and Steph specifically to stump me. I mean, soft boy who loves nature, goes out of his way to be kind and helpful to those around him, has a slow build up to being emotionally available with someone he trusts, and has some daddy issues? A girl with pretty brown eyes who loves DnD and LARP, has a passion for music and will deflect with humor, who knows who she is and is eager to help those around her, and who isn't just another rehash of Chloe? They knew what they were doing; they dressed Steph up in as a witch after having Ryan act like a goof acting like enemy creatures, they were made for me.
Having done both routes, I do prefer Steph. I adore her and Alex together, but Alex and Ryan are super cute, too.
It's not a perfect game and there are issues in the writing but honestly, I don't care. I had a good time. I was engaged. I looked at every single flower and kissed a pretty girl so good that the world exploded. What a great game.
#asks#oh and the last episode was like whiplash like i was having a great time then alex got shot in the head and gabe showed up to make me cry#like i just wanted to look at flowers and kiss steph and this mystery is really killing my vibe sksksksks#though tbh i liked the mystery and what it was going for anyway#and the choices were fine like at this point i've played enough of these games to know what 'your choices have consequences' really means#and i accepted it so it's easier to enjoy#but the biggest compliment i can give it is neither of the love interests were a chloe sksksksk#a sapphic love interest who doesn't make girlboss gaslight gatekeep her entire personality as if it's quirky?#who doesn't act like she's above criticism because of her sad backstory and only has any growth in the last twenty minutes of the story?#who doesn't have to blame somebody otherwise it's all her fault? who doesn't constantly wish her ex was here? amazing thank you true colors#listen i'm sorry but i don't like chloe i never liked her and i never will okay we have to accept that
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what if you: wanted to work on artfight prep
but god said: car break down be stressed forever
#rambumbles#this happened yesterday and I am still. doing bad. haheho#I love (hate) my ancient money-sink vehicle yayyyyyy#when your car starts smoking in the middle of the road and then you sit baking alive for 40 minutes in the 3pm texas heat#while waiting for assistance. and then you go to work for 8 hours !!#at least I have enough in savings to hopefully get something decent if I need a new car. sigh#uncertainty makes me anxious and I felt like I was finally returning to a stable point after getting my power back a few weeks ago#and now it's just all shit again#I need to get medicated or something but that costs even more time and money because diagnoses are hard and I don't know how insurance work#and my parents don't take my mental issues seriously because they don't take their own issues seriously#and so now I don't even take my own issues seriously and then I overestimate myself and end up crying at work#because No I Am Not Great Actually#everything is so much. and then you die#I think I went off a bit much here. sorry I'll be fine I promise I am just exhausted and scared and sleep-deprived
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i love saito. i love that uchikoshi does not know or care what's wrong with him. i love that everyone else in the game has real life medical issues and his brain issues are just "i don't fucking know he kills people. we're doing a Bit about Love And Family. he's got Murders People disease."
i love whatever's going on in both versions of in the VaiN. and that when someone asked uchikoshi what was with the scene at the end of the hit route with So was he was like "he's fucked up. you know how it is." and that was the full explanation.
everything he does as a-set especially in the arg videos is so so so funny. this man is having the time of his life pretending to be a fucked up and evil teen idol streamer. "this is your idol" "be seeing you. but you won't be seeing me" i will shove him in a locker also i know i already drew it but "this is kaname date he's a real hot piece of twink ass but unfortunately his personality is awful. he lost his memory or something i don't care" is everything to me
love that he's making this incredibly intricate plan to ruin the life of this random fucking guy he CHOSE to bodyswap with on a whim because he... what, he escaped out the window? you really just wanted him to sit there while you killed a guy as rohan, realised the oxytocin release didn't carry over also half your vision is fucked now, swap back, and then kill him so he can't narc? that was Theft Done To Personally Spite You? anyway he's doing all that and he's like "i mean i guess i'll kill my dad while i'm at it" and i love that.
i'm. still thinking about "killed by your own father" why are you pretending to be your own dad shooting yourself in the middle of your last ditch "well whatever plan's fucked may as kill him" moment!! just another one of your "i'm technically not lying teehee" bits?? (and i KNOW the reading that it's about mizuki but that makes even less sense to me. & i'm a 'most cringefail reading possible' truther.) i really do love 'i didn't lie, i kept my promise' just to be a jackass
i love that he's so candid about talking about his murders and says shit like "homicide is my hobby" but when it comes to shooting people he either says some bullshit like "blowing their brains out" or calling them "fireworks" or it's about date "watching them die." the only time he calls it "shooting" is when someone else is doing it. and normally that sort of thing reads as 'distancing yourself from the crimes' but wouldn't that be fucking wild lmao. i think it reads more like it's above just shooting? it's art! perfect, beautiful art of a lonely moment in time.
and all the "(you were) a murderer. a serial killer" "have you been using other men's names for so long that you've forgotten your own" talk feels like it should be leading into a "we're not so different you and i" but it never does. (i'd be tempted to say it's just self restraint on the part of the writing team but i find that VERY hard to believe given the. everything. about every uchi game.) like he hates date but he views himself as above him and he can't pull himself down to date's level, even to upset him. he's just taking hypocritical shots at date because he knows he cares about "justice" and "morality" and garbage like that, without acknowledging their similarities
i'm normal? i'm normal.
#sorry this is 5x longer than i thought it would be i only slept like 20 minutes last night i am lightly deranged#don't read this. all my takes are always correct.#but don't look at me. but i'm right.#i need to know if i'm wrong about any of this to avoid embarrassing myself in the future. but you can't tell me i'm wrong or i'll die.#you know how it is.#i could keep going but i have to stop this was how the dog rant started and i Cannot make another dog rant length post#it's the one literate thing i've ever written and that's fine. i can't start being a guy who has opinions about media.#aitsf spoilers#saito sejima#also if i write anything it has to be with a ridiculous framing device#so i can call it 'the dog rant' and say i wrote 3.5k words about the random dog npc in yongenjaya#it's not funny otherwise. and there's no point if it's not funny.#could i make a dog rant length post about the sejima family without even getting into the sequel?#probably#but oh the mortifying ordeal of having takes#i love bideo gane. thanks for reading. don't read this post. please un-read this post.
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eeeuuuuggghhh i'm gonna bitch in the tags a bit bcus this isn't like. serious enough to put more effort into it than that but i also don't want it to sit in my brain.
#little rock.txt#venting#self harm in tags btw#anyway. wow i hate intrusive thoughts.#like great guys. it's so cool that the way we're deciding to spend our time is constantly thinking about ways to hurt myself#oh wow stabbing myself with a knife someone left on the counter? so original. never been seen before#oh starving myself?? even when my lovely friend made us a whole dinner?? that's lovely. wow. not even a little bit rude#standing in traffic until someone comes and hits me? at least that wouldn't damage my fucking car like your other ideas!#taking something sharp to my sunburns for a two-birds-one-stone thing?? i guess you're making the best of the circumstances#like jesus fucking christ Grow Up. am i fifteen goddamn years old again#like if we're being So real the consequences of actually self-harming Far outweigh the benefits so i'm not at any real risk#(i do Not want to deal with the fallout of 1. cleaning those wounds 2. confronting my housemates with active self-harm#they actively do not deserve that happening to them)#(hi guys btw sorry. i'm fine)#but that just means i'm sitting here like. so are you gonna be productive or....?#like i had plans of what i wanted to do with my brain power tonight. was gonna write. maybe clip a stream. and we're...?#oh just sitting on my laptop playing music too loud bcus if i could hear my own thoughts it'd be a nightmare? neat.#jesus christ can i be a normal goddamn person for like fifteen minutes and get out of this anxiety spiral. it's been over 24 hours.#whatever. like at this point it's fucking whatever. if i can't drag myself into being productive i'm just gonna go to bed.#“opal is being mean to yourself really going to help” i don't know. i doubt it. unfortunately i am in the mood to be a bitch#and the only person who deserves to deal with bitchy opal is me. so.#anyway if you read all of this uuuhhh sorry. i am like this. but hey. thank you for caring
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guy who didn't take their stop getting panicked and freaking out at everything and having unbearable heart palpitations and being unable to sleep pill voice guess who's feeling panicked and won't stop freaking out at everything and is having unbearable heart palpitations and can't sleep!! el oh el!
#i was like it's fine i don't even need them. dude there is a reason you went to all that effort to get them...#IDIOT!!#i know i complain on here alllll the time (follow for more complaining!) but you have no idea the extent to which i get through the day by#just not thinking about it. or thinking about it for two minutes then forcing myself to just. move on to anything else.#if i let myself spiral (like i did february) all of the time i simply would stop taking part in my life#because it's unbearable if you think about it. so i don't. but the constant pointed Not Thinking About It is exhausting#and the constant enduring is exhausting the constant Taking What I Can Get is EXHAUSTING (hence. the february breakdown)#and now nothing is BETTER it's just. child psychology voice kill yourself or get over it. and so i got over it. but that's not LIVING.#and my parent's think i'm just fine now because i'm fucking on the pill or whatever and i'm trying anxiety meds etc etc#but fundamentally the truth is the same (i'm not built to be happy and i wasn't built for this life)#and i'm just back to the trying! the trying and trying and trying and swallowing pills and practicing tai chi and#opening the windows and eating oranges and sharing poems and appreciating the little things#i'm tired of appreciating little things. i want big things!#and no i won't kill myself. if you keep living there is some chance life will become worth living at some point however low#and if you die then that chance drops to zero. so fine. whatever. i'll get over it#but this isn't good. this isn't a good life! every day i have to wake up and remember there's nothing here for me!!!!#YES every day is a renewed chance that life will become good but how can i not be burdened from every day that came before that was just#nothing?#something has to change and I'VE tried changing i'm ALWAYS changing it's always ME#a new mindset a new coping mechanism and new positive mental attitude#but that doesn't fix that fundamentally life as it is for me is Not Worth It. ok. if i have to live the rest of my life trying to rewire my#brain so it feels whatever sense of hope it can from the Tiny Little Things that aren't completely miserable and desolate like a stranger's#kindness or a nice treat from a shop or a pretty skyline. if that's all i'll ever get?#what are we doing.#in conclusion: let's create life 2 where everything is so so beautiful for everyone
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Today I was helping run the booth for the local queer non-profit at the farmer's market and a woman told me that she would like a flag, pointing to our little bucket of flags. So I picked up the bucket and I brought it over and asked her which one she'd like.
"Well, tell me about them!"
"Oh! Okay! This one is the inclusion flag- its for everyone, including allies."
"What's this one?"
"That's the bisexual flag: it represents people who are attracted to two or more genders."
"Hmm... what about this one?"
"That's the nonbinary flag: it represents people whose gender isn't strictly 'male or female.'"
"Hmm... what's this purple one?"
"That's the asexual flag: it represents people who may not feel sexual attraction the way that others do."
She put her hand to her chest and got this really curious look on her face. "Tell me more about that!"
"Oh, happy to! So like if you're out with your bestie and someone real fine walks by and she's like 'omg look at him' and you're like 'girl get a grip?' Or like you just don't get what the 'big deal' is about sex or why everyone is so weird about it? But there's also room for like- you don't fall in love with the way someone looks, you're attracted to the person- their sense of humor and their kindness, or there's something about their personality that just makes it click for you? That's asexuality, too!"
And she got real quiet and seemed to think about it for a minute. So I grabbed our little informational sheet about different queer identities and handed her a copy. "If you want to do some research, this is probably a great place to start."
She thanked me and took an ace flag, stuck it in her hair.
Sometimes when you're online all the time, its easy to think that 'everyone knows about (topic), there's no reason to keep talking about it so much.' But while the people on the internet are real people, the internet ISN'T real life. And there are lots of people who do need to know that they do have community!
One of the jokes is that I'm a lot of people's 'patient zero' for discovering that they're queer. This is why.
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