#And I'm sorry but glory or dust was. Something. Like I ate it up too because it's our boys but uhm. Well.

[hifumi-gigolo]

girl I am so sorry but why do the 3d models for the new game look the same amount of crunchy as glory or dust 3 years ago can we get high quality

[lihikainanea]

Did tiger and bill ever go through like a phase where tiger kind of had to get used to bill thinking of her? Like she wasn't really used to being someone's first choice, like someone thinking about what she might like or want. To have someone frankly just think of you. I'm sorry to be a bother. Just feeling kind of bad lately, and could use some sweet bill. Sorry again.

First of all boo, please don't ever be sorry for sliding into my DMs. I love hearing from you guys, especially if you're not doing that well. I'm all ears, and this blog is a safe space for everyone--so pull up a chair and stay awhile. I, and our two favourite idiots, would be nothing if it weren't for all the amazing asks that you guys send to me <3

Secondly, I love this train of thought because I think it is very, very true. And it probably started back at the beginning of their friendship, right? Yes, it did. Follow me down this rabbit hole.

Bill doesn't make a lot of new friends because since the whole fame thing, he has trouble trusting people--and Bill, by nature, is a caretaker. He's extremely nurturing. He provides. He takes care of those close to him, in one way or another. But he knows his own empathic side, he knows its limits and boundaries, and one of the worst things he can do for his own well being is care about too many people. Get involved with too many people. Bill is happiest amongst his close group of friends, people he knows he can trust, people he can cook dinner for and host movie nights for and fly halfway around the world when he has a premiere.

And tiger, for her part--my girl tiger, she has zero self-preservation skills. Like, none. And Bill is fascinated by that. He's fascinated by this little fireball who not only has no idea who he is, but who subsequently really couldn't give a shit once she found out. He's enamoured with this little scrappy ball of ire who is convinced not only that she can start a bar fight with everyone in the pub, but that she can legitimately win. Bill's never seen anything like it. And once you meet tiger, she's impossible not to love. Or at least, it's impossible not to be intrigued by her, and to want to know more.

But the thing is, that firecracker personality and the massive chip on her shoulder doesn't come from nowhere--tiger's been hurt a lot. And it's because she never goes for the good guys. For as much as Bill has an empath side, tiger has the self-destructive kind where she wants to fix people. And she always goes for the dudes who will take and take and take, the dudes who play rope a dope with her heart, and who leave her shattered. Tiger gives her soul away too easily, and she takes it as a challenge when she's tossed to the side by some guy who was never worth her time anyway. She tries to prove she's worthy.

But then in comes Bill--this big, wall-eyed, kind of freaky looking dude who seems nice and kind and is moderately soft spoken. And when they hang out, Bill starts showing a genuine interest--platonically, of course--but it's genuine. He asks what she does for a living. He asks if she likes it. He wants to know where she went to school, what she studied. Does she have any siblings? Because he has a lot, and he knows how tough big families can make you. When tiger can't decide if she wants the chilli fries or the chicken wings one night at a pub, Bill tells her to get both--and that's when she knew they'd be friends.

And it slowly but surely escalated from there--still all platonic at the beginning--but suddenly, Bill was asking her how she was getting home, if she needed a ride. He was asking her how her week was, when everyone got together on Friday--and if she had mentioned something big previously, a meeting or a presentation or something--he'd remember, and ask her how it went. If he left the bar early, he'd politely ask her if she could text him when she got home.

"Why?" she scoffed.

"Because somebody needs to look out for you," he answered honestly. Tiger, in true fashion, balked awkwardly.

And this is where her defence mechanism started to fly up. Because when you're not used to being cared for, when you're not used to genuinely mattering to someone or hell even just getting the attention of a truly good person--it's weird. It's awkward. It's scary as hell and requires a level of vulnerability that tiger isn't ready to let exist--because it would mean that she would have to admit to herself that she is worthy. That this is the norm, and that she deserves this. That she knowingly let herself settle for being treated like shit for so many years.

And tiger's first defence is always anger. So maybe she started getting real snippy with him, probably well into their friendship by this point--so Bill was cooking for her, and if he wasn’t then he was checking in to make sure she ate at least one vegetable that day. If she had a date, he would wait until she texted him that she was in for the night--whether that was at the guy’s place or hers. If she needed a ride home in the morning then he would pick her up, in all of her walk of shame glory--but he’d pick her up with a few Advil, some big sunglasses, a huge coffee. And he would absolutely make fun of her nefarious, ill-fated decisions but he’d always wait at least 12 hours before he dared.

But to go even further--you are absolutely right. Bill does put her first. Once she is solidified as his best friend, then there’s no going back--she comes first. And part of it is Bill really is legitimately concerned because tiger has no self preservation skills and he worries that if HE doesn’t concern himself over her, then tiger will just like...her reckless decisions will be her undoing. He must look after Little Human, because Little Human’s self-destructive streak is far too prevalent. He has left dates in the dust when she needed his help. He looks out for her in group settings, and intervenes if some idiot is getting too handsy with her. If he has a boys night that night but tiger calls crying because some idiot broke her heart, or crying because it’s shark week and she’s out of gummy bears--then Bill is there. In a heartbeat, he’s there. She comes first.

And I’ll bet it’s all very nice, but it also kind of has tiger seething. Because she’s not used to this kind of...care. The genuineness of it. And tiger can’t be vulnerable enough to admit that part of her likes it, part of her feels safe knowing that even in the wee hours of the morning, Bill is awake and waiting for her to let him know she got in safely. Part of her kind of likes this idea that someone is thinking of her, that someone prioritizes her. But it’s still tiger, so she also gets hella mad. And she seethes--for a long time, she seethes. Quietly. And then maybe it all just comes to a head one night when she goes over to Bill’s place after work and he has a crisp glass of white wine waiting for her, a change of clothes, even her favourite make up remover--the kind that doesn’t sting, because she has sensitive skin. And all of that pisses her off, but then she walks into the kitchen as he’s deftly cleaning and slicing mushrooms.

“How did it go?” he asks casually. Tiger plays dumb.

“How did what go?” she swigs her wine.

“The meeting with your boss today.”

“...Fine,” she mumbles, petulantly. Of course he’d remember that, even though she told him two weeks ago. 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offers kindly. Tiger sees an errant pile of green onions on his chopping board, and she eyes them wearily but somewhat triumphantly. Bill heads to the fridge, pulls out a bowl of salad, then he tosses the green onions in. Perfect, she thinks, and it gives her a weird sense of satisfaction. Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Considerate, doesn’t even remember what she considers to be the most significant thing about her. That she hates green onions. She feels triumphant, renewed. Somewhat weirdly comforted to confirm that perhaps she doesn’t mean that much to him.

Until he heads back to the fridge, and pulls out another bowl of salad--one that he promptly dresses, salts and peppers, and tosses. One without green onions. One for her.

“Why do you do that?!” she explodes. Bill jumps in surprise.

“Do what?” he asks innocently, “This one has no green onions!”

“Exactly,” she continues, “Ugh, Bill. Just...why do you always...ugh, Bill!”

Bill is stunned, still holding his bowl of salad, trying to figure out what exactly is happening here.

“It’s too much,” tiger says, slamming her wine down, “All of it is too much.”

“What’s too much?”

“You! This. Why do you always just....think of everything?” she says, and she’s steadfastly working herself into a tizzy.

“Tiger...”

“How? How do you remember these things? How do you fucking remember that I had a meeting with my boss today, a meeting that I told you about two weeks ago? Why do you make a whole other bowl of salad for me, why do you remember that I hate green onions?”

“Because I care about you kid,” he shrugs.

Tiger is angry, but she’s also at a loss for words. Bill’s genuineness, his honesty, will do that. For as much as she struggles to be vulnerable. Bill shows that side of himself openly. She doesn’t even know why she’s so angry. Bill watches her for a minute, but she’s kind of just bug-eyed so he goes back to his cutting board and starts calmly chopping his little mushrooms again.

“I don’t like it,” she mutters after a long pause.

“Too bad,” he shrugs non-chalantly. Tiger glares at him.

“Too bad?” she seethes.

“Too bad,” he repeats.

“Stop it,” she says.

“No.”

“Bill, I mean it. Stop always trying to--”

“No.”

“I’m not finished,” she stamps her foot, “Stop being such--”

“No.” he says again, “Tiger, this is what I do.This is how I am. I care about the people that matter to me.”

“Well I don’t ma--”

“Yes you do. You matter to me. So I suggest you put on your big girl panties, and fucking deal with it,” he says. And that’s final. Tiger is taken aback at his tone, at the way his face suddenly got serious--but then in a heartbeat, it’s relaxed again.

“Now, do you want mustard on your burger, or ketchup?” he asks. Tiger is petulantly silent, glaring at him.

“Tiger.” he warns, holding up the hamburger bun.

“Shouldn’t you already know?” she huffs in annoyance, going to the fridge and grabbing the wine. She swigs it right from the bottle as she boosts herself up on the kitchen counter. Bill goes to the fridge and grabs the mayo--her favourite--putting a thick schmear on the bun.

“God, get fucked asshole,” she mutters. Bill just grabs her face, plants a noisy kiss on her cheek as she shrieks and swats him.

[gyucore]

to reach a happy ending

pairing: beomgyu x reader

tags: fluff, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 1.6k

warnings: beomgyu swears like once

prompts:

017: "A fairytale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face."

023: "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

— requested by ⛅ anon! sorry this took so long to make. i hope you like it!! ♡

"Ew, look at this." You hand the dusty old photo album to Beomgyu who's sprawled across the floor by your side.

"Wait—" He stops you, rolling away before letting out a sneeze so loud that it managed to echo off the dusty untouched walls of his old room. The poor guy couldn't help it, his room hadn't been cleaned since he moved out in the middle of high school, and his mom preferred to keep things as they were— dust and all. You wonder if it was simply an excuse to clean one less room.

Beomgyu did say he had dropped in yesterday without notice. You'd think he'd want to spend some quality time with his parents first, but he'd decided to invite you over after spending a single night under this roof. Having heard nothing but radio silence from your best friend in years, you were thrilled to get to see him again. And what better way to shed off the ever present awkwardness in the beginning than to go through old photo albums?

"Okay, show me." Beomgyu rolls back to your side, scooting in closer to rest his head on your lap.

You turn the photo album, pointing at one photo in particular of you and Beomgyu dressed as a knight and damsel in distress— Beomgyu playing the role of the latter. Contrary to the roles, you were pummeling Beomgyu to the ground as if having caught a thief, and Beomgyu was shoving his handkerchief to your face, blocking your eyesight. The context behind the photograph alludes you, but this might just be a case of seven-year-olds doing whatever they want whenever.

"The fuck you mean ew? I look great in that dress!" Frowning, Beomgyu grabs the album to stare longer at his past self's glory.

"Lying to yourself isn't good for you, Gyu." You jokingly disapprove. It was fun seeing his reactions right after.

"Oh, look at these."

Beomgyu points at a photo of you and him on stage, wearing the same costumes as before. You figured it was for a play back in first grade when you two had been classmates. The next series of photos included one of you holding out a sword towards a kid in a cheap dragon costume, one of Beomgyu holding back his tears after tripping over and ripping his dress, and ones of you rushing to Beomgyu and kissing away his tears.

"This takes me back." Beomgyu lights up with a smile, failing to notice the surprise on your face. "Remember when your mom made us believe that kissing any injuries we had would make it go away? I knew you wanted to help me back then but I couldn't stop crying and tell you were it hurt, so you started kissing all over my face hoping it'd go away."

You find yourself laughing at your past self's foolishness. "But did it work?" You ask in between laughs.

"Well," Beomgyu chuckles, getting up from his position on your lap. "I don't think it would've worked if another person had done it. But since it was you— Wait." He takes one last look at the album, letting slip a wheeze before placing it back in its box. "Mom wrote something right below the photo."

"What did she write?" You ask, holding out your hands for Beomgyu to grab.

"A fairy tale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face." Beomgyu tells you as he helps you up, trying his best to keep a straight face after delivering that line.

The two of you burst into laughter at his mother's words. You knew she'd been fond of fairy tales all her life but the caption was taking you out. Beomgyu was literally crying in the photo yet somehow this, to her, was a happy ending.

You eventually take notice of all the photos plastered around his room, some framed, and some simply stuck to the walls— memories of happier times. Most were of you and him, and in some, just you. He'd shown off the Polaroid camera his mother bought for him in seventh grade, proclaiming he'd only take photos of moments he'd want to keep in his memory forever. It never actually crossed your mind that a lot of them would be of you.

Beomgyu notices your wandering eyes and chuckles, placing an arm around your shoulder. The distance between you shrinks as he holds you closer. And at that moment, you take note of everything that's changed.

He'd gotten taller since the last time you saw him. Gone was the lanky boy you knew, evident in the way his muscles flexed with every small movement you wish you hadn't noticed. Beomgyu had grown his hair out; the thick, wavy locks tucked behind his ears, covering the back of his neck. The deepness of his voice had been a surprise when he greeted you at the door earlier, but you held back from pointing it out.

You feared that if you acknowledged all the changes, you'd be forced to face reality. That things weren't the same anymore, no matter how hard you tried. After all, Beomgyu wasn't the only one who changed. You had quite the few character development arcs yourself, and experiences which Beomgyu remained oblivious of. And somehow despite that, in his presence, you started to feel like your old self again.

Beomgyu's invitation had come as a surprise last night. You thought he'd forgotten about you, what with all the silence these past few years.

Life continued on as it should even without Beomgyu by your side, but you could argue that all the amazing experiences you've had on your own would've been better if he were there to experience it with you. And now here you were in his old room, pretending everything was the same as he'd left it.

You look up at your old friend, wanting to tell him what had been plaguing your thoughts the entire day but find yourself tongue tied when his dark eyes stare back into your own. And you wonder, how many times had it been that you'd stared into each other's eyes just like this? How many times had he pulled you close into his arms all those years? And just how many nights had you spent wondering if your feelings for him had grown into something more?

"I missed you." Beomgyu speaks first, his gaze never faltering.

Hearing his voice, you swear you could've melted right then and there. Part of you had wished he'd tell you those exact words, confirming that it hadn't been just you who'd been wanting to see him all these years.

"I missed you too."

Beomgyu could only smile at your response.

His arm leaves your shoulder— hands slowly finding their way to your own. His hold was gentle as he slowly guided you to face him.

"Don't laugh, but," Beomgyu starts. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"Love at fir—"

The question throws you off.

"What?"

"I heard you the first time!" You cut him off, wanting so bad to cover your face from the secondhand embarrassment. "I can't believe you just said that. What even happened to you in college?"

"Hey! At least hear me out before you make fun of me." Beomgyu bursts out laughing at your reaction, his thumbs caressing the back of your hands to help you calm down. "Judging from your reaction, I'm guessing your answer is a no. And I honestly felt the same too until a few hours back."

"Okay, you lost me there."

"Shut up. What I'm saying is," Beomgyu squeezes your hands, leaning in closer. "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch the last few years. I had a lot of trouble adjusting, and it took a while for me to really get the hang of living alone. I wanted to talk to you as soon as I got there but then I thought that maybe it would've been better for you if I left you to live your own life for a while too."

"Beomgyu.." You squeeze his hands back, sensing the sincerity in his eyes.

Beomgyu shakes his head. "I know this sounds silly and all, but I didn't want you to feel the emptiness I felt when I left. I wanted you to go and make experiences of your own without me."

You frown, refraining to speak until he's done.

"But then I couldn't stop thinking about you. Everywhere I went, I'd think of you and how the place would've been better if we got to hang out there together. Every time I had fun or ate something that tasted good, I wanted you to share the experience with me."

Beomgyu sighs. "Honestly, I thought I could make it through my visit home without seeing you but I passed by your house on my way home yesterday and I just.. I couldn't hold back. And when I saw you for the first time in years at the front of my doorstep.. I knew I had to tell you."

Half of you knew what to expect, and the other half doubted the reality of the situation. But all the doubts instantly melt away as soon as Beomgyu closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together.

Face flushed, you stare at him in awe and notice he had his eyes closed shut. "Cute." You thought.

He whispers in a voice so quiet you could barely hear.

"I like you."

You couldn't hold it in any longer, the rush of emotions crashing into you like raging waves against a cliff. The next moment, you find yourself inching closer and closer, face heating up even more as you press your lips against his as a reply.

Beomgyu's eyes widen, body freezing in place. He hadn't exactly expected you to respond so soon, especially not like this. And he couldn't be happier.

You feel Beomgyu returning the kiss, his hands going up to cup your face— his hold gentle. The two of you wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment for as long as life permits, because for once, you could finally see the path to your happily ever after slowly unraveling.

This was just the beginning.