#One of us will literally just announce ''bonk'' and the other will prepare for/lean in for a headbutt haha | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nose-bandaid · 3 years

Text

a hug per dollar

hello! it's me, the platonic anon from before... may i request a non-romantic, changgu & gender-neutral reader, coffee/study date? and maybe you could work in a reassuring hug 🥺 thank you so much 💛

Yeo One (Changgu) x (gender neutral) Reader | Platonic fluff + comfort?! | 1.8k words

synopsis: overworking can sometimes be an easy, but terrible habit to fall into, but luckily, changgu is there to drag you out when you do.

a/n: lol i think i projected this to have 1.2k but it ended up with 1.8 but i am not complaining !!!! to my dear platonic anon, sorry this took so long ksdhfkdsj i hope you enjoy it !! i may or may not have done an uno reverse on stud.hui.o fanatic because now it is the reader who's overworking BAM 💛

=====

"Don't you think we've been here for long enough?"

Your hand stopped writing the flurry of notes and you looked at your friend, who peered back at you over his laptop. "Changgu, it's literally only been..."

You flipped your phone over to look at the time on its display and faltered when you realized just how late into the day it was. "I guess we have been here for a while."

"Which is exactly why I think we should—"

"But I'm not ready to leave yet!" You snapped back, immediately backing off when you realized how harsh your voice was.

"You didn't get much sleep last night, did you?" He pressed on and you buried your face back into the piles of work laid in front of you.

"We don't talk about that either."

He let you be and the two of you went back to working in silence for the next while until Changgu eventually got up from his seat. Your eyes followed him as he stretched and let out a sigh. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

"Okay." You replied, and returned to your work.

=====

Not long after, a juice box slid into your view and you looked up at Changgu who returned after his bathroom break that took much longer than a usual bathroom break would've taken. You quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

"You got juice from the bathroom?"

He laughed and you took note of the other juice box in his hand — the exact same flavour as yours. "Of course I did. They added vending machines in the bathroom recently, didn't you know that?"

You decided to play along. "Is that so? No, I didn't know that. But do enlighten me as to why you would ever trust a vending machine located in the bathroom."

He laughed at your small jest. "Nah, I just went on an adventure to grab us some fuel." He dropped back into his seat and let out a relieved hum as he stared at his laptop. "After finishing that stupid essay I think I deserved the treat."

"You know, if you're done working you can always head back first. I'm fine on my own."

He shook his head adamantly at your offer. "This is our study session, you know? It's a we thing," he emphasized that with a point to the table. "So I'm not leaving until you're also done."

You sent him a small smile in appreciation and returned to your textbook, taking a small sip from the juice box as you did. It was refreshing and in the back of your mind, you wondered how he knew this was your favourite flavour. You didn't recall ever telling him.

"Though I think you've done more than enough work for today."

You didn't miss the next thing he muttered quietly.

"Look, Changgu, I'll just finish this chapter and we can call it today, okay?" You desperately held up a finger to assist in your pleading.

"One chapter and one chapter only." He reluctantly gave in, deciding to get a head start on another assignment in the meanwhile. Once again, you settled back into a comfortable silence, listening to the distant voices of others in the library.

You ended up finishing that chapter quicker than you initially thought you would and it flared up a new flame of determination within you. You could cram in a few more chapters then, right? You'll get them done in no time, especially with the flow you had now.

Agreeing with yourself, you got started right away.

You're pretty sure Changgu noticed when you flipped the page again.

And again.

Surely he's noticed the way you're slouched over a bit more now, the way your eyes were drooping and your gaze became unfocused. The way you've hardly touched the bag of snacks since he opened it. But you kept on going. Your determination knew no limits and you kept on going despite all the rational part of you that screamed at you to stop.

...Now, where did you leave off before you started daydreaming?

Right, at the end of this paragraph. You returned to staring at the mundane words in the textbook. You swore you were almost finished with this page but you also told yourself that what felt like hours ago. No matter how many times you read the same sentence over and over again, the words never seemed to stick in your mind. Your hand couldn't figure out what to write and what to leave out. All of it seemed important and you cursed the way your next exam weighed so much and yet gave you such vague preparation instructions. If only you had started studying earlier... but wasn't one week enough? Maybe you just weren't fit for this? Probably, because —

Changgu placed his hand onto yours. He gently pulled the pen out of your grasp and gestured for you to look at him.

"Let's take a break, you have no say in it. Seeing you like this makes me exhausted, I can't take this anymore."

No matter how many times you've drilled into your mind that it was absolutely not okay to take a break, the moment you heard the words from someone else, your composure crumbled.

You let out a deep sigh and let your weight rest on the table. "Yeah let's."

Changgu helped you pack your work away after cleaning up his own and waited until you were fully ready. When you slid the chair back to its former home, he held out a hand for you to take and you happily took a place by his side.

"Are you going to take me on another adventure?" You playfully asked, already feeling a little better now that your work was tucked away.

He shrugged. "Honestly, I had no clue where I was going to take you 'cause I didn't think you'd actually stop studying. But sure! Let's make this an adventure."

Stepping outside, you realized how much nicer it was to have a change of scenery. It was already late afternoon, the sun shining brightly above, engulfing you in a pleasant kind of warmth.

You sighed inwardly, this would've been more relaxing if your mind would just stop drifting back to all the work you still to be done. Hadn't you done enough? You worked so hard for the past who-knows-how-many-hours and yet it only left you unsatisfied and even more stressed.

Maybe it just wasn't enough.

A gentle bop on your head brought you out of your thoughts and you stared at Changgu, his hand still raised from bonking your bad thoughts away.

"Stop thinking so much." He crossed his arms and looked at you pointedly.

"Huh?"

Squinting his eyes, his face leaned into yours, getting closer and closer, and you found yourself edging away from the intrusion. Just as quickly as it started, he suddenly disappeared, straightening his back again and letting out a huff.

"Just as I thought."

"What?" You asked again, still lost.

"You're thinking bad things about yourself again! Stop that."

"How did you know?"

He playfully punched your shoulder at that. "I'm your best friend, you think I wouldn't notice these things? You always have this expression on your face when you're beating yourself up. Looks kinda stupid."

Your mouth gaped at his remark. "Hey!'

"I'm kidding, you never look stupid," he smiled and continued. "But what is stupid is you thinking that you're not good enough because you can't keep up with everything that's going on. Can you really blame yourself if some uncontrollable force decided to dump an unreasonable amount of work on you all at once? You're doing your best, which is one, really paying off because I swear you've covered like a billion chapters today. And two, is extremely cool — I heard the group studying behind us gush about how hard you were working and guess what?"

"...What?" You asked hesitantly, still trying to recover from your friend's spiel.

Changgu grabbed your shoulders to keep your attention. "I also think you're really really cool!!" He announced loudly, capturing the attention of a mother and her daughter nearby. They walked away after the initial surprise.

Your lip trembled, not even having it within you to be embarrassed by his public confession. Instead, you were overwhelmed by his kindness. "Changgu..."

He pulled you into a hug and you basked in his presence. The faint smell of fresh laundry lingered on his hoodie and you melted into his comfort. "You're doing great, and you'd be doing even better if you let yourself breathe for a moment. As overwhelming as it may feel, the only thing that's going to bring you down is yourself if you keep on going at this rate — not your work." He gently scolded before he pulled away and cupped your face, eyes boring into yours.

"Got that?"

You nodded hesitantly. "Yes."

"I don't know... that wasn't really convincing..."

You laughed lightly and pushed his hands away from you. "I got it, I got it, Changu. Thank you so much." You found yourself much more relaxed after your talk. "From studying with me to buying me snacks and comforting me... aargh, I appreciate it."

Changgu simply gave you a bright smile. "Anything for you."

That was all he said, but those 3 words were enough to express just how much you meant to each other.

"Besides, I don't think of it as a chore, any time spent with you is great."

You pouted. "You're too good for me, seriously. How can I make it up to you?"

In all honesty, you expected him to dismiss the question, but instead, Changgu's eyes wandered off as he placed a finger on his chin. "Well, I did notice that my favourite drink is on sale when I passed by that cafe on the way here..."

You sent him an amused look. "The juice wasn't enough?"

"Are you telling me to pass on a sale that takes a whole dollar off?"

Once again, you found yourself playing along with his act and your eyes widened. "Oh geez, you're right, we can't miss out on that." Pushing Changgu from behind, you ushered him forward. "Let's get moving! We spent so much time in the library the shop's going to close by the time we get there."

Changgu chuckled as you caught up and fell into step with his movements. "I'm glad to see that you're back to normal."

"And I'm glad we get to save a buck on overpriced drinks. Thanks for everything, Changgu." You swiftly replied and he sent a smile your way.

"Anytime."

#newskynet #kdiner #pentagon #pentagon yeo one #yeo one #yeo changgu #pentagon x reader #changgu x reader #yeo one x reader #pentagon fluff #changgu fluff #yeo one fluff #nose-bandaid

23 notes · View notes

pascalls · 3 years

Text

It’s a Gunderful Life

With nowhere to go on Christmas Eve, Charlie’s depressive episode is interrupted by none other than Gil Gunderson.

---------------------------------

Her text had ruined everything.

For once, Charlie had been prepared to spend a holiday with his son. He’d gone the extra mile - figured out a small motel where they advertised fun little Christmas trees in the rooms, had enough money to order a pizza, and even had a small present for the boy that was haphazardly wrapped and ready to be given.

But before he could even make the phone call to ask whether or not Connor was ready to be picked up, Connor’s mother had texted him instead.

[ Our son is spending Christmas with his grandparents. You can see him for New Years. ]

Charlie didn’t have the wherewithal to respond. The reservation for the motel was canceled, the money for the pizza was spent on a gross Stroopwafel Liqueur, and the present was dropped in the mail box for Connor to receive later. On top of his killed buzz, the chilly air was swirling about in such a way that it was generating a few wayward snowflakes. Even through the thick sweater he was wearing, the frost bit at him; as if the weather itself was really hammering the point home.

As Charlie walked down the street, the bitterness radiating from him was palpable. In fact, it was likely the only thing that was keeping him warm as his ears consistently flicked away the falling snow before it could settle on his scales for too long. The holiday meant that the Lovejoys had company, Sam was away on an urgent delivery run upstate, and sleeping on the cold tile floor underneath one of the tables at Moe’s was too depressing of an option. The bar was likely filled with other loners, just as put out as Charlie was. And he didn’t need that kind of energy pulling him even deeper into his lonely depression.

A sneeze made his ribs ache and he snuffled in agitation as he scooted himself into the dim glow of the nearest street light. He’d long since abandoned his disguise in favor of roaming the street like some kind of raccoon, looking for… Something. Anything. He didn’t quite know what. He’d finished off his booze - which had done very little to get him drunk - and with no cash in his pocket, that meant no food, no more drinks, and no… place to stay.

On a good day, Charlie battled loneliness and depression. This was certainly not a good day. It was smothering him. And after a brief moment of realizing that the light was at least providing the tiniest bit of warmth, Charlie sat right there on the curb, tail curled around him as he exhaled tiredly into the frosty air. What a shit Christmas.

He nearly leapt to his feet when a sudden harsh metal scraping interrupted his quiet revelry. His scales bristled like a spooked cat, but confusion overcame his desire to bolt as he spotted a familiar face that followed.

“...Hello Gil,” Charlie said, his tone exceptionally dry. God couldn’t have dropped literally anyone else into his lap on Christmas fucking Eve?

“Uh-hEY, it’s Mr. Walker and d-” Gil began to respond, his hands gripping the metal rim of the dented garbage can he seemed to be dragging down the street. “-aAH! What HAPPENED to ya?” He exclaimed when he turned to glance properly at Charlie who could only respond with a dull look in return.

A more intelligent part of the hybrid was telling himself that being caught out of his disguise might as well have been a straight shot right back to Burns. The more realistic - and depressed - part of himself was saying…

Nobody would believe Gil Gunderson anyway.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a whole thing, it’s fine,” Charlie reassured him, scaly hands up in a placating gesture. “Tell me why you’re waking up the sewer rats by dragging that thing across the pavement.” He was quick to change the subject, and despite Gil’s momentary apprehension, the man seemed to divert just as easily.

“OH, well, yanno, it’s pretty cold out and I figured if I got this in between some of those apartment buildin’s over there, I could set some garbage on fire and get the ol’ hands nice and toasty! But uh… Well, I used the last of my matches to try and pop some popcorn kernels I found in my pocket earlier and ah… well, yeah that’s kinda just how it goes some days, I guess.”

“Riveting.” Charlie had little to offer the ramblings of the ever-depressing Gil, but he had to admit… a fire sounded nice right about then. He didn’t know how sure he was that he wouldn’t freeze to death if left to his own devices overnight. A fire would at least make sure he’d live to see another day. “...I might be able to help with that, actually.”

“Really?” Gil asked, his tone hopeful as Charlie came around to the other side of the can and lifted from the bottom. He didn’t want to summon up any more attention from any other passersby with the horrible screech of metal against concrete.

“Tell me where you want it and we can see if we can get it lit somehow.”

“Oh BOY, you’ve got a real nice heart there, Mr. Walker! I tell ya what, let’s go put it right between the Sears and the Radioshack!”

Charlie squinted from behind the can. “Gunderson, neither of those fucking places have existed for at least two years. Pretty sure it’s a Target and a Subway now.”

“Aw, you’re right.”

Sighing, Charlie hoisted the can up and in the direction of the two buildings, crossing a parking lot and avoiding bonking into a few cars along the way before setting it down in the darker shadows of the alley between them. It was sufficiently out of the way of any prying eyes and didn’t reek of piss and old sandwich meat, at the very least.

“Alright… uh… next step is… shit to burn,” Charlie mused, adjusting his glasses and glancing around.

“I’ve got some receipts in my pockets…” Gil proposed, reaching into his shoddy jacket and pulling out a huge clump of wadded up paper. He began to pull them apart one by one, dropping them into the can, but not before glancing at each one in turn and announcing loudly where they were from. “This one was from that slice of pizza I got the other day! Oh, but then I dropped it into the sewer grate… And THIS one is from those shoes I bought- ah, but then that dog ran off with ‘em…”

Rolling his eyes, Charlie ignored Gil’s babbles as he drifted over to a nearby dumpster, clawing his way up the side of it and peering in.

“Ah-hah,” he proclaimed, hopping in and beginning to toss out bits of plywood and newspapers. A few food wrappers made their way out of the dumpster and to the ground. A few minutes of digging yielded a large enough pile of garbage for Charlie to clamber back out, landing deftly on his feet. Glancing over at Gil, he breathed out a sigh when he realized the other man was still going through his receipts.

“GIL.”

“And this one was - Huh? What?”

“This stuff will burn a lot faster than a pocketful of receipts. C’mon now. Use your brain. Come get this shit and throw it in.”

Gil blinked before dumping the rest of the receipts into the can and quickly made his way over to start hoisting up the trash that Charlie had amassed, carrying it over and dumping it in as their makeshift kindling.

“Y’know, I could use this for-” Gil began, only to be interrupted by Charlie who smacked some of the plywood out of his hands and into their fire.

“No. Put all of it in.”

Gil didn’t argue, a little too intimidated by Charlie’s command to do so, and he obediently finished his task. The can was eventually full - full enough to keep a fire fed for a few hours, at least. By then, hopefully, the sun would be back up and it wouldn’t be such a chore to stay warm.

“Alright. Now… to burn. Hm. You got a phone on you?”

Reaching into his other pocket, Gil produced an old flip phone, clearly not up to modern standards. But Charlie didn’t really mind, reaching out to snag it from him and give it a once over.

“It ain’t the most high tech thing, but it lets me keep in touch with the kids when they-”

Before even bothering to let him finish, Charlie unceremoniously wrenched the battery out of the device, practically snapping the thing in half to do so. “I’ll get you a new one,” he lied, not looking at Gil as he began to fiddle with the battery casing with his claws.

“Wh- Oh. Well if it helps…” Gil replied, downtrodden, but not entirely beaten up about it. He leaned over to watch Charlie work, backing up only when the battery began to smoke and spark.

“Head’s up!” The hybrid exclaimed, tossing the battery in the can as it began to simmer and leak fluid. What he didn’t anticipate was the fluid, having left a streak along the ground as it hurtled into the can, ignited, sending flames rocketing towards their impromptu fire pit. A sudden wave of panic at the realization - BATTERIES EXPLODE - sent Charlie leaping at Gil to knock him down and away from the can as the sound of the battery bursting into shrapnel rattled their little alley. Smoke and flames burst from the pile of garbage, singeing the can and some of the brick wall next to it before it settled, leaving them laying in the aftermath of floaty, acrid smoke.

Charlie glanced back at the can which was, at least, alight now. And the preceding explosion had ensured that the entire area was… warm and smoky.

“WOW, that’s ONE WAY to light a fire!” Gil exclaimed from the ground, not bothering to get up just yet. Particularly due to Charlie still being squarely on top of him. The hybrid noticed after a few seconds, glancing down at Gil before scrambling away in embarrassment and dusting himself off as he got to his feet.

“Yeah… well… I’m… experienced.” Charlie bragged, despite the slight humiliation at possibly being caught in such a position with Gil of all people. But he couldn’t say that he hated having his ego pat. Even just a little. He busied himself with cleaning off his glasses as Gil pushed himself up to his feet in turn, making his way over to the can and placing his hands over the flames which had settled and now burned steadily.

“I gotta say, I was a little worried we wouldn’t have somethin’ to keep us warm tonight, but ya really came through!” Gil rubbed his hands together eagerly, offering Charlie a little smile, to which the hybrid had no response besides an awkward clearing of his throat as he drifted over to join the other man. His scales appreciated the warmth as he placed them over the fire, glancing over at Gil as the flames crackled quietly.

“...Why’re you out here by yourself anyway?” Charlie eventually asked, curiosity defeating his desire to not be rambled at again.

Gil shrugged sadly, but he maintained his smile. “Yanno how landlords are durin’ the holidays, they want their rent when they want it and when ya don’t got it, well, ya end up out on the street and all your stuff stays behind and they tell ya they wanna pawn it off…” He trailed off.

Frowning, the hybrid didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t entirely sure what was worse. Not having a place to go to begin with or being booted out of your place. Hm. He decided that he wasn’t interested in playing the pain olympics with a man who probably didn’t need it any more than he himself did.

“That’s rough, buddy,” he said after a moment.

“Did you get thrown out too?” Gil asked. “Ya seem like a guy who’s a lot more put together than I am, anyway!”

“Eh…” Charlie replied, noncommittally. He didn’t want to get into it. Especially not with Gil. “Just wasn’t interested in doing the whole… holiday thing.” He lied again, though a slight pang of guilt settled into the back of his mind, forcing him to pull his hands back to himself and drift away from the can to lean against a nearby wall. Sliding down, he eventually settled on the ground. Close enough to the fire to keep him warm, but not so close that he was forced to stare Gil Gunderson in the face and explain the depths of his depression.

The other man watched as Charlie drew away and, much to the hybrid’s dismay, joined him to sit against the wall. Gil seemed pleased just to have some kind of company. Charlie would have preferred it to be....

Maybe literally anyone else.

“It can get pretty tough around Christmas time when ya ain’t got anyone to spend the holiday with. I know how that can be,” Gil began. Charlie didn’t look up at him. He didn’t need to be told that. “But it ain’t all bad,” the man continued, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small paper bag.

What the hell else did this man have in his pockets? Charlie wondered. But he didn’t ask. Just squinted as Gil reached into the bag and produced two rectangular snack bars.

“It’s not much, but I managed to snag these cereal bars from my pantry before security threw me out. Ya want one?” Gil offered one of the bars to Charlie who stared, nonplussed at the offer. Something about it was-

-stabbing him directly in the chest somehow, and he wasn’t sure why.

“...Sure,” he replied eventually, reaching out to take one of the bars and turn it around in his hands. Lucky Charms. Cute. He peeled the wrapper off the bar and began to silently munch, still pointedly not looking at Gil. Embarrassed to be accepting the help. Thrown by not being able to stew in his depression with someone watching. Guilted by the realization that he’d shattered the man’s phone and now would certainly need to get him a new one.

The silence between them was interrupted by the faint beeping of Gil’s watch. Charlie’s ears twitched as he glanced over, continuing to savor his sad little snack meal.

“Guess that makes it Christmas now, huh? It’s midnight,” Gil said with a glance at the watch that continued to beep for a few more moments before going silent again.

“...Guess it does.” Charlie glanced up as the snowflakes continued to drift down around them. Not quite making it all the way to the ground before they melted into droplets of water or evaporating in the heat of their bonfire. He considered, for a moment, reaching for his phone to text Connor. Or Tim. Or Sam. Or - anyone. Maybe shoot his shot and see if anyone would respond to a sad lizard’s good tidings.

But he did none of those things.

Instead, he reached into his pocket to produce the only real thing he had on his person. His empty wallet. It had no money, no cards in it. Not even any sorts of identification. It was an older leather wallet that had seen better days. But it wasn’t the worst looking thing.

“Merry Christmas, Gil,” Charlie said as he offered up the wallet to the other man. “It’s not much. But you might be able to use it eventually.”

“Wha? Really? Ya mean it?” Gil responded, reaching out to take the wallet with enthusiasm. “You BET I’ll be able to use it! I’ll be able to hold all of my credit cards and maybe I can get them all paid off finally!”

The hybrid snorted in amusement. Stupid.

In a sudden and unexpected display of gratitude, Gil leaned over and wrapped arms around Charlie’s shoulders in a tight embrace. Charlie bristled, not anticipating the blatant affection, almost pulling away as a result. But Gil didn’t seem too eager to let go.

“You’ve made this the best Christmas I’ve had in a LONG time!” The man exclaimed, much to Charlie’s embarrassment. But… he had to admit…

It felt nice to be appreciated.

So he didn’t fuss, despite his desire to do so. Instead, he reached up and gave Gil a little pat on the head.

“You’re uh… you’re welcome.”

Charlie let Gil cling for a little longer, occupying himself by staring at the fire they’d constructed together. At least they were warm. They’d eaten something. And they weren’t alone. The hybrid wasn’t about to categorize it as any type of ‘good’, as far as holidays went, but…

Maybe it wasn’t the worst.

#tj writes #oc #simpsona #gil gunderson #BECAUSE CHARLIE x GIL IS A VALID SHIP NOW I GUESS

12 notes · View notes

apparitionism · 5 years

Text

Mercury 11

This is basically just one scene. It was going to be more (and this scene was going to be better), but I’m being fussy about what follows it, so I figured some content, sooner, was better than more later. (Some previous content: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, and part 10.) I was additionally having a little hiccup of trouble figuring out exactly how to start this part... but “in the middle of things” is usually a good rule, particularly when the “things” in question are important, so “in medias pie” it is!

(P.S. to anon who asked about a masterpost: That’s too much housekeeping for me. But you’ll find I’m diligent with tags, plus my tumblr has search and an archive, so you shouldn’t have to scroll too much. Also, much of my stuff can indeed be found on AO3, where I move it after posting on Tumblr, usually with copy and/or content edits, depending on what seems warranted. Thanks for asking!)

Mercury 11

“But this pie,” Myka said with her mouth full.

“Has rendered you ill-mannered and inarticulate,” Helena said. “Interesting.”

“And here I thought demolishing cars was gonna be the entertainment,” Pete added.

They all had to work hard to be heard over the soundtrack provided by the derby: the roar of engines, the sharp bang and crunch of metal colliding with metal at speed, the shouts of extremely invested spectators. Myka had been paying some attention to it before she embarked on this trip to pastry-girded key-lime paradise. She hadn’t had any idea that bliss was in fact a combination of citrus and... whatever other things it was combined with, here in this very-nearly-literal slice-of-heaven pie, but Pete was right: this had been a really educational trip.

Ida said, “This is closer to what I’d call a show.”

“Here in Wisconsin?” Pete asked.

“Anywhere. Is she always like this about pie?”

“I’ve only known her five years,” Pete said, “but I think it’s safe to go with ‘never in her life has she been like this about pie.’ Or maybe anything.”

“Well,” Helena began.

“Don’t say it,” Pete advised.

Ida temporized, “She doesn’t need to. Everyone understands innuendo. And subtext.”

Myka didn’t care, not even a little—not about the kind of show she was putting on, not about how innuendo-y and subtext-y Helena was getting with regard to what Myka might find heavenly in other contexts—as long as nobody took this miracle of a pie away.

She certainly hadn’t expected this to be the outcome when she, Helena, and Pete had taken the lengthy walk—thankfully, in their normal configuration, with Myka reclaiming her “run interference” slot between Helena and Pete—to the site of the demolition derby, some distance away from the fairgrounds proper, accompanied by what had seemed like an additional fair’s worth of people. Were these things really so popular? Maybe Pete was right, maybe “the IRS” should sponsor one in Univille. For purposes of general sociability, because for all Myka didn’t like the place, she did still care what its denizens thought of her, and if—“Bet these’re cow pastures in real life,” Pete had said, interrupting her speculation. That prompted Myka to start taking careful note of where she was placing her feet during that long walk along not a path as such, but rather through grass that had been marked at irregular intervals with spray-painted arrows.

“You’re so prissy,” Pete said.

Myka shrugged that off. “Maybe. But cows. Or rabbits. Nobody with sense in their head want to walk in anything they leave behind.”

Helena said, to Pete, “Are you as unnerved by bovines as you are by lagomorphs?”

As a dig, it seemed mild, even polite, but Pete reacted as if she’d reached across Myka and slapped him. “Leave me alone! I’m not scared of anything unless it’s freakishly huge!”

They were passing the cars’ inspection area: the same spray paint had been applied to a piece of plywood, leaning against a fence enclosing those cars, to spell “INSP AREA.” It could have meant “inspiration area,” Myka supposed, but people with clipboards had seemed to be inspecting rather than inspiring, or being inspired... she tried to think of another word that began with “insp.” Nothing came to her.

“Size-wise,” she told Pete, “the bumpers on that Sable over there must be giving you nightmares already.”

Pete looked where she’d indicated. He did a cartoon double-take. “Are those even legal? I think I just found my horse.”

“I like the Pinto next to it,” Myka said.

He scoffed, “Nobody likes a Pinto.”

“The ponies enjoyed a brief vogue when I was a girl,” Helena mused, as if to herself. “Would that the car were painted like those...it’s a shame that a pinto—and, in fact, a sable—shouldn’t resemble their namesake animals in some way.”

Myka said, “I guess we can call my Pinto a Palomino, then. The color’s why I like it.”

“That’s not a good reason,” Pete said. “Not for a demo derby.”

“It’s a great reason. Look.” Myka pointed toward a corral ringed with bleachers. “There’s a lot of mud over there, where I assume they’ll do the demolishing, right?”

Pete nodded. “Mud slows ’em down. Safer, plus it’s a better show. Upset it’s gonna be such a messy show, Miss Prissy?”

“My point is, the Pinto’s yellow, so I’ll be able to keep track of it through the muck, while it does its demo-ing. Or gets demo-ed. As I watch it happen, because I’ve got a horse—almost literally—too. Do you want me interested or not?”

He glanced at the Pinto, then looked back at Myka. “Not sure,” he said, like he thought she was trying to trick him.

“You wanted us here so bad you won it,” she reminded him.

“Mostly wanted to make you suffer.”

“Then I think your win is more of a ‘win,’ because I refuse to suffer,” Myka told him. “Not about this.”

She was holding Helena’s hand. She had been, for the entire walk, “because I didn’t get to on the Ferris wheel,” she’d said when she first reached for the contact, her voiced reason in response to Helena’s questioning did-you-not-recently-express-objection-to-public-displays eyebrow, and it was true as far as it went. But what had compelled Myka to make the small display, really, was that she’d needed something, and this was simple. Uncomplicated. Something to bank against whatever was going to happen later, in the hotel room. Which she was, she had to admit to herself, doing some pre-suffering about. Because she didn’t know.

Helena declared, as if to assure Myka that she too felt both the simplicity and the need for it, “I’m not suffering either. Not about this.”

She gripped Myka’s hand tighter. It did feel good. Myka echoed the pressure, and one corner of Helena’s mouth curved up.

Pete rolled his eyes. “You two are gonna wish so hard that Myka won that duck bet.”

“It was a bet that concerned ducks?” Helena asked.

Myka grimaced. “I’ll tell you later.”

“I wonder,” Helena said, jauntily, “whether the poultry competition might include a Rouen or two.”

“I’m gonna regret this, but: okay. That’s a...?” Pete prompted.

“Giant mallard,” Helena said, with even greater cheer. Pete groaned, and Myka found herself wanting to kiss Helena: for being clever, but also as yet another instance of that bankable, uncomplicated touch. She almost said that out loud—“I want to kiss you,” simple, like that—but she understood that if she did, she’d have to deal with Pete about it. Because of ducks.

“Well, I don’t see any of your probably-made-up freak-ducks around,” Pete said. He added a taunt of, “I do see the two of you practically sittin’ in a tree, though.”

“Mature,” Myka said.

“Water off a Rouen’s back!” Helena announced.

Her insouciance made Myka again want contact, like a kiss, but more than that—but still simple. Basic. The most basic.

Pete must have seen and read that thought as it crossed Myka’s mind, crossed her face, for he said, “Jesus, Mykes, just jump her and get it over with. Get yourselves behind the bleachers and take care of business.”

Nobody had taken care of any behind-the-bleachers business, of course, but Myka had kept on holding Helena’s hand, even as they sat on the uncomfortable aluminum of those bleachers and listened to engines rev in preparation for entering the corral. Pete had taken it upon himself to explain the derby’s rules to Helena: “...and they all go in and they have to hit another car every minute, or maybe it’s every two, but anyway if your engine bonks out you get a little while to try to restart it but if you can’t you’re out, and they break that piece of wood by your window to show that you...” Myka listened with one ear, but mostly she concentrated on not finding a reason to loosen her clasp. The interlacing of their fingers had moved from “this feels good” to Helena’s barely fleshed bones pressing too solid against Myka’s, giving rise to an uncomfortable ache... but that ache was no reason to let go; rather, it was a reminder not to. Bodies, real ones, felt pain. So Myka sat on aluminum, listening to engines rev, not letting go. Banking it.

She’d been banking it, still, when Ida arrived, asking, “How did we ever live without the ability to text?” (Pete had said, as they sat down, that he would text Ida to join them, “because maybe she’s done with judgy-judge-judge and can bring us some leftovers.”) She’d looked at Myka and Helena—specifically, looked at their joined hands. “Well,” she said. “Another distraction?”

“Maybe,” Myka acknowledged. From something freakishly huge...

“How are you?” Ida asked Helena. “Did your summit go well?”

Helena smiled at the word. “As well as such a thing could. I suppose one might call the outcome détente,” she said. Myka, too, had smiled a little at “summit,” but as for “détente”... well, there was a lot to be said for that in the relations between several of her nearest and dearest. But she wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea of any relaxing of tensions between Helena and Emily Lake’s girlfriend. “It’s been a very strange two days,” Helena went on to say.

“That isn’t news to me,” Ida said, which prompted in Myka another Amen, sister. Ida added, “But I’ve got something that will make everything better.”

“Fruit spreads?” Pete asked, with great hope. He pointed at the small hamper she held. “That looks like something.”

Ida nodded. “Something. But better than fruit spreads.” From the hamper, she produced—with a “ta-da!”—the key lime pie. Pete gave a gasp that Myka judged both overdramatic and unwarranted; it was just a pie, albeit one that nearly matched her Pinto for color; if she’d thrown it at the car, no one would have noticed the spatter, not that she was in the habit of throwing pies at cars. This one hadn’t been thrown at anything, but it did look a little the worse for having traveled in close quarters: not show quality anymore. Given the crumbled edges of its crust and slightly dented surface, it might have been any pie at all. Ida then handed out plastic forks and paper plates, and if anyone near them in the stands around the fenced patch of mud recognized the picnic as larcenous, they kept it to themselves.

Pete took his fork up with his usual enthusiasm, dug in, took a bite, then closed his eyes. “This pie is freaking awesome. In an ‘I could literally die now’ way.”

“I told you, you literally can’t beat it,” Ida said.

While Myka had respected that particular “literally” when Ida said it yesterday, she wasn’t sure she believed it today in any kind of existential sense. Hence her astonishment when she found her own first bite to be... was “rapturous” outsize, as a word or an idea, to apply to the experience of eating pie? It didn’t matter what word she used, though; she wielded her fork with even more gusto than Pete, and she felt a niggling worry that this was, for her, unseemly, yet the combination of the unprecedented pie and the certainty that it was nutritious was irresistible. The mouthfeel alone was enough to knock her out—unctuous, yet with a sharp slash of lime-presence tanging on the tongue... she’d noticed Helena ignoring her own serving so as to watch Myka. “What?” Myka had asked. “It’s good for me.”

“I am prepared to offer to any and all attending deities,” Helena had said, amusement animating her face, “my prayer that your recently espoused belief does not wear off.”

“I’m prepared to livestream it so everybody on the planet can testify later that it happened,” Pete had enthused. “Also so Claud’s head explodes when she sees it.”

And so it was that the only words Myka had managed to come up with in her own defense, “But this pie,” had caused everyone to express even more opinions in the matter.

Fortunately, however, they let her keep eating. “I feel like I’m somebody else, how much I’m enjoying this,” she now said, not bothering to pause before scooping up another forkful.

“Interesting,” Helena said again, and her tone told Myka that something was waiting to be interrogated there... but she was extremely unwilling to turn her attention away from the pie.

Meanwhile, the cars destroyed each other. None of it mattered to pie-intoxicated Myka, except the Pinto, a little, because she could in fact keep track of it in the muck. It was surprisingly agile, “her” Pinto. Or Palomino. And if the derby had engaged only her eyes, that would have been fine, but exhaust and mud and the crowd’s sweaty enthusiasm hung heavy in the air, congesting her nose and clogging her lungs; she resented that it interfered with her experience of the pie. Its rich citrus viscosity was similarly condensed, on her tongue, but far more pleasurable... but wait, she thought, thickness... a dictionary-page memory... “fr. L in- + spissus slow, dense”: “Inspissate!” she exclaimed.

Pete and Ida both said “What?” and Myka looked up from her plate, ready to explain about “insp” and areas—but her neon pony caught her eye at just the right, or wrong, instant for her to witness its driver’s failure to recognize a danger for what it was: it received in that moment a dramatic T-boning from a seemingly unthreatening even-more-compact car. She yelped and upended her plate, which landed face down on the aluminum at her feet. It had held one last bit of inspissated key lime and... whatever else it was combined with, a last bit that she’d told herself she wanted to savor, but that she’d in all honesty been about to shovel into her mouth with abandon. She made a decision that was really no decision: she lifted the plate, scraped the spattered filling up with her fork, and willed herself not to think about dirt.

“Not one word,” she said, her mouth again full, to Pete and Helena. “Not one word out of either of you.”

Neither said anything. Myka chose to ignore their thunderstruck expressions, because she still had that precious morsel of pie in her mouth.

“Good choices,” Myka told them once she’d swallowed. She licked her fork. She took note of Helena’s expression as it shifted from shock to avid appreciation of her licking her fork.

TBC

Again, minimal tags, but here, an essay might mention things like strongly held beliefs, and how our strongly held beliefs shape our behavior, and why we so strongly hold the beliefs that shape our behavior, and that it is indeed interesting when a shift in belief (about anything: from sugar’s nutritional value to who we actually are) leads us to engage in behaviors that make us strangers to ourselves—regardless of whether we know of that estrangement at the time it’s occurring. When you think about it, in terms of selfhood, each of us might be said to be a cult with exactly one member. (I realize that doesn’t entirely hold up, but I’ve spent a little while thinking about it.)

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Mercury #part 11

22 notes · View notes

rebeckathefloof · 5 years

Text

Miss You~

Summary: He really wants you to come visit and he misses you a lot. You decide to surprise him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: None (Just a dash of Yoongi really missing you)

Genre: Fluff

Words: 2,5K

a/n: tumblr ruined my formatting :(( Sorry for the mess it left. Hope you enjoy!

Yoongs: Jagiiii~

When are you coming to visit again???

I miss you~

(Y/N): Yaaa

Yoongles, you know I can’t come visit

Our schedules clash and you have the cb to think about..

You know I miss you too...

Yoongs: Buuut Jagiiii~

You know it’s very chill right before our cb,

there isn’t really anything to do around here

and the maknaes are annoying

(Y/N): We’ll have to see

I might be able to ask for a small break

but I can’t promise anything

Ok?

Yoongs: As long as there

is a chance that you might come here~

OK, I have to go now, they want to go through

the choreo one last time today

Love you~

(Y/N): Love you too

Yoongi~

|Today 14:58|

(Y/N) P.O.V.

As I entered the upper levels of my work-building, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit my senses. There was a slight buzz from my coworkers as they zoomed around the floor, attending to their assigned tasks. At the end of the corridor was my boss’ office. I greeted his assistant at the reception like table. ‘’Is he in still?’’ My tired voice drawled out. She nodded a vague yes. I scoffed a bit at her out-of focus like state and headed towards the door and knocked before entering.

‘’Good afternoon Mr.Steele, Is there anything in particular left for me to do today?’’ My boss raised his head and shook it. ‘’There isn’t. Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?’’ I saw this as an opportunity, and nodded. ‘’There is actually, I wanted to ask if I could get a small 1 or 2 week break, so I can go and visit Yoongi? Also if you do want me to work a bit while away I can do that too. Since my job is literally writing and producing music it’ll be quite a relief to get a of change environment for a while.’’

I waited for the inevitable no coming from my boss, considering that he’s always had me on a tight leash if there ever was an artist in need of a writer and I needed to do face-to-face collaboration.

‘’I understand if i won’t be able to, considering that are plenty of artists that want to meet me face to face an-’’ Mr.Steele interrupted my rambling and cleared his throat. ‘’It’s fine (Y/N), go see Yoongi, come back when you need to, but you still have to write and submit it to me. Got it?’’ I nodded. ‘’Yes I understand, Is there anything else you want me to do while I’m gone?’’ He shook his head and mentioned for me to just leave his office and go home.

‘’Thank you again for letting me have this vacation!’’ He just sighed and gestured towards the door. ‘’Go get your man (Y/N)!’’ He laughed as I hurried out the door.

I opened the door to my one bedroom apartment and stepped in to let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. ‘Well… Time to pack AND book a plane ticket’ I scurried into my messy bedroom and hopped over the clothing piles on the floor. I took a quick look in my closet and sighed.

‘’When was the last time I fucking did laundry?’’ I quickly shook my head and collected a few clothing items and threw them into the hamper I had in the corner of my room. I sprinted down the stairs to the basement and greeted a few of the neighbors on my way down to the laundry room.

I almost bonked into the door when it almost closed on me, I looked up and saw a few of the older neighbors look at me and shake their head in disapproval. I straightened my back walked over to the only available washer. I chucked all the clothes into it and prepared it for a program.

I let out a sigh and leaned against the washer as it whizzed to life and started rumbling. I dug up my phone from the pocket and opened it, looking at the various notifications I’d received throughout the day. I looked at Yoongis contact and contemplated if I should send a heads up to him or something, but decided against it as I wanted it to be a surprise for him when I arrived. Instead I sent a text to Namjoon asking him if I could get some info on where Yoongi was during the time I arrived so I could go and surprise him wherever he was.

The washing machine beeped and signalled that the program was done, I opened it and threw all the clothes back into the hamper and fixed the washing machine so it was ready for the next person to use.

I slumped down on the couch and placed my laptop into my lap, searching up plane tickets for Seoul and looked at varying options settling on one of the pricier ones, clicking on check-out and paying for it I waited for an email to arrive, confirming my purchase and linking the receipt and all the other information I needed for my flight. I looked everything over and nodded to myself, closing it and putting it in the backpack with rest of my equipment. I felt and heard my stomach rumble reminding me that I had to have something to eat this very moment before I literally fall asleep on the couch.

I went into the kitchen to check for some leftovers noticing I barely had anything in the fridge, except for some Ice Tea and fruit yoghurt along with some leftover red-wine sauce. I sighed and looked into the cupboards and noted there was literally nothing at all. I picked my phone up from the table and tapped on the best take-out places number waiting for the staff to pick.

‘’ One number fifteen please, also I want the cashews and veggies on the side. Yes, Okay thank you’’ I ended the call and slumped back down on one of the plush kitchen chairs almost missing and landing on the floor.

I patiently waited the 15 minutes they told me it’d take. As I heard the knock on the door I rose up from my comfortable position on the chair and went to open the door. ‘’Hello, Here is your order, One number 15 with the cashews and the veggies on the side. That’ll be 7 dollars.’’ I nodded and handed him the charge and took the food as I closed the door behind me.

Once again I sat down on the couch and opened the containers containing the most convenient and delicious food ever. I almost drooled a bit thinking about it as I dug in.

I leaned back as I finished ravishing the beautifully created meal that had been before me just seconds ago. I stretched my limbs and stood up to throw away the trash caused by the food. I drug my feet across the livingroom floor into my bedroom and threw myself on the bed setting an alarm for 5 am. I put my phone charger in and fell back against the sheets.

I scurried into the airport hall as I searched for the correct machine to get my boarding ticket from, I spotted the machine from the company I was flying with as I hurried over there and put in my information I got the tag for my luggage and the boarding ticket. I quickly went over to the correct check-in and security line.

Once I had checked in and went through the security, I was admitted in to the passenger lounge where I could get some food and drinks if I felt like it. I ordered a Pepsi and a sandwich since I hadn't gotten breakfast. I waited until they announced my order was ready, well only the sandwich since I already had gotten the Pepsi, I went over to the counter and picked up the tray with the grilled sandwich on it. The morning had gone by so fast I hadn’t had the time to really look around and take everything in, the smells, the sights and overall noisiness of the people bustling around in a hurry to get from one place to another. Places like this often got my anxiety going as it was a close space with a lot of people pushing around trying to get past you- The thought of it just made me shudder. Thankfully I had a way of avoiding this completely and get by just fine. That is the reason why I chose a early flight and woke up at 5 am.

Just as I finished eating my sandwich they announced that the plane to Seoul would start boarding soon and that you should make your way over if you hadn’t already. I quickly disposed of the trash and put the empty pepsi bottle into my backpack and rose up from the lounge seat to go over to the boarding terminals. I took out my ticket and passport to make it go by smoothly for both me and the staff.

I waited patiently in line as there were only a few people ahead of me, soon I was at the front of the line and I quickly handed over my ticket and passport, they nodded and told me to go ahead. I boarded the plane and went to find my seat. Hopefully I wished for a window seat and that there wouldn’t be anyone beside me. Thankfully one of my wishes came true. Window seat acquired! I quickly took out my laptop and the noise cancelling headphones from the backpack and went to stuff if into the overhead shelf. I scooted over to my seat at the window and dug out my phone and texting Namjoon that I had boarded the plane and it probably would take off soon. I put it into airplane mode before opening my laptop to do the same. Just as I put on my headphones I could hear families with their screaming demon children boarding the plane and I let out a exasperated sigh. This was going to be one long ass flight.

After hours and hours the plane had finally landed at Incheon, thankfully I hadn’t had any screaming or kicking children behind or infront of me, though I had this one guy who kept sniffling and coughing beside me, I was so close to asking the guy if he could hop over to the empty seat beside him since it had been empty but my awkwardness had taken the best of me and I just let it be. I shot a text to Namjoon telling him I just arrived and asking if he could send someone to pick me up, his answer came right away responding there was already someone waiting to pick you up in a black van.

After rounding up my stuff and getting of the plane I went to collect my luggage at the pickup. I noticed just how much busier Incheon was than the airport back at home. I listened to the people around me, picking up on a few korean words that Yoongi had taught me after we got together. I quickly shook it off and went off looking for the exit, where someone would come pick me up.

Exiting the airport I noticed someone standing next to a black van waving at me. I hurried over and confirmed if it was my ride which I got an affirmative from the driver. He took care of my suitcase which held my clothes and a few other things and loaded it into the trunk of the van and gestured for me to get in.

‘’Miss, We have arrived at the destination. The boys are in the practice room’’ I thanked the chauffeur and got my suitcase from the trunk and started towards the building where the boys were.

As I entered the building, staff acknowledged me and nodded.

I waited for the elevator to arrive as I sent a text to Namjoon asking if they were still practicing. He responded that they were on a 5 minute break before they had to go back to practice again. I thanked him and got in the elevator when it arrived.

Arriving at the floor the boys practice room was at I walked down the corridor hearing music blasting from the speakers inside. I slowly opened the door and peeked inside, looking at all of the boys and finally landing on the one.

I went over to the chairs placed behind them and sat down as I waited for the song to end. As soon as I thought it, the song ended. I started clapping to get Yoongis attention and that I did.

He turned around as he heard the clapping of hands, there before him stood the person he had been missing for months. ‘’You’re here! You actually made it!’’ He enveloped me in a tight hug as I wrapped my arms around him. One of the other boys snickered at his hyungs actions. ‘’That’s more emotion than I’ve ever seen him express in all the years I’ve known him’’ I chuckled and released my arms from around him.

‘’I thought we agreed on that we would tell each other when we were visiting?’’ I scratched my head a bit and retorted. ‘’What’s the point of telling, if I wanted it to be a surprise?’’ Yoongi snorted. ‘’Yeah? You wanted to surprise me? Do you think I was surprised Jagiiii~?’’ In the corner of my eye I could see the maknae cringe at his hyungs words.

‘’I think you were really surprised Yoongs… Maybe you could show me how surprised you were?’’ The suggestive tone in my voice made the others groan. ‘’GET A FUCKING ROOM YOU TWO!’’ Unsurprisingly it was Jeongguk who shouted it at us.

Yoongi dragged me out of the practice room and down the hall, where their studios were located. He quickly punched in the code on his lock and swung the door open, just to shove me in and slam the door closed behind us.

After one intense make-out session later, Yoongi and I laid on his couch holding each-other just taking in the others presence and basking in it. Yoongi held me as if he could lose me any second, missing the way his breath hitched a few times before holding me tighter and hiding his head in my neck.

Smelling his subtle cologne, it reminded me of the first time we met. It smelled of the orange he shared with me while we were working on one of the songs for their then upcoming album.

‘’Yoongi? Are you alright?’’ I stroked his back in an attempt to calm him down. ‘’I- It’s just that you’ve been gone for so long and I… I just- I have missed you for so long, you have no idea how many nights I dreamed about you being here, next to me, every morning, every night, always and I don’t want you to leave again... ‘’ I looked at him, resting my head on his chest, taking a deep breath.

‘’It could come true... ‘’ He looked me in the eyes looking after any sign of a joke. ‘’I’m not joking… I could move here and live with you…’’ He nodded fervently and flipped us over so I was underneath him. ‘’I’d like that’’

#min yoongi #yoongi x reader #fluff #bts #soft bts x reader #yoongi missed you #tumblrfuckedmeover #formatting100 #:(

16 notes · View notes