#bff!bill

[lihikainanea]

I know you have had a little writers block and not much time to write but in case this can inspire more tiger and Bill hear goes. So Bill is working on a movie that is a mess. He took the job because because he really loved the director, but lets so with rewrites and other politics that director quit. Bill was still in a contracted he could not easily get out out and he did not want to quit something he had already put work into.

Filming finally started back up with a new script and he was doing his best to make his character believable. But his neppo-baby co-star was not helping. Of course he was also considered a neppo-baby by the US press but he did not think he was not a brat like this woman. She wanted to change things in the script. She wanted special foods and no one could talk to her unless she was officially on set. He could not even get her to go over lines or how he could respectfully touch her during scenes since they were playing a couple.

He of course talked though things with Tiger as much as he thought he could but this was a very tough shoot. He would come home late and only get about 6 hours before having to be back on set.

His mind is wheeling one night when he has to do a love scene with this awful girl the next day. Tiger calms him enough for him to fall asleep. His brain has other ideas to fix the thoughts he has about the next day. He dreams of actually having an affair with awful girl. And the sex is just....he wakes in cold sweat. He was moaning in his sleep and he can not even look at Tiger. And boy does he not want to go to work that day either.

Ohhhhh I like this.

Look, I mean, with how many films actors do--every once in awhile, they must work with fellow castmates that they just hate. Abhor. Their hatred is so thinly veiled that it's incredibly palpable to the crew onset, but thankfully things rarely ever make it to the press because of NDAs and big ass scary lawyers and the like. But every once in awhile--we, the ever little-seeing public--we get wind of it. Think Don't Worry Darling. The drama surrounding that production, for the so many reasons it seems to entail, was just--unf, chef kiss to those of us that still love the thrill of a little celebrity drama.

And I'm sure Bill, in all of his perfectionist nature, was also hated on a few sets. His perfectionist nature. His insistence on trying the scene 100 different ways, for 100 different takes, until he was satisfied. Not everyone performs to that calibre nor do they hold themselves accountable to such lofty expectations as that big swedish talking tree, but that's just who he is. That's how he works.

But y'know, I'd even venture to say that it's quite rare that Bill actually likes his castmates and fellows actors he works with. That's not to say that he hates their guts--not at all. But rather he's just pretty...ambivalent about the whole thing. Neutral. He's the Switzerland of film sets. He's a pretty private person in general, a pretty guarded individual, and for him this is a job. Onscreen chemistry is far more important than actual chemistry in this line of work, and he's able to separate the two. He can have great onscreen chemistry with someone that he's not super friendly with, and he doesn't feel any inclination to add the to the inner workings of his closest social circle. Beers after a long day on set is one thing, the occasional celebratory dinner, gifts for the make up and costume crew. Getting to know everyone on a first name basis. But beyond that, Bill is more than happy to go back to his trailer between takes, or go back to his apartment at the end of the day, and cook dinner with tiger or have drinks with some of his friends who flew out to spend a few days with him.

And on that note, he's probably had to work with a lot of actors that he really doesn't like. People who either take themselves way too seriously (Bill thinks method acting is the most ridiculous fucking thing anyone could ever do), or the opposite--people who don't take this seriously at all. And if you call Bill a nepo baby to his face you'll likely be tackled violently from stage left by tiger--but it's also why he's ultra sensitive about those nepo baby actors who don't have any talent, and don't even have the work ethic to build it up.

It's still like pulling teeth to get Bill to admit that his laast name opened up a few doors for him, but he'll also be the first to admit that his initial acting jobs weren't....uh, they weren't great. But he worked at it, he honed his craft, he worked his ass off, and now nobody can say the opportunities he's gotten have been handed to him.

But y'know, the thought of nepotism--well, it doesn't really bother some people.

And maybe on a recent film set, Bill is living in his version of hell. His love interest in the film is a girl in her young to mid-twenties, the type who grew up with two famous parents and all of a sudden decided she wanted to act--so roles were handed to her. Bill's not quite sure how she even got the job given how their chemistry read went, with Bill nearly glaring daggers at her the whole time. She's just the type of person he can't stand. She's loud about everything. She comes with an entourage to everything. It's always over the top, all the time. She never learns her lines. She doesn't give him anything to work with in a scene, reciting her lines like a robot and not leaving anything to improv, natural reactions. She needs a million takes for one scene--not because she's a perfectionist--but because she forgot her lines, or didn't listen to the notes the director gave her. Bill is pretty convinced this entire film could have shot in half the time if she'd just be a little bit of a fucking professional about it.

The whole thing irks him at first, then just pisses him right the hell off shortly after. She's late for the call time, when the other actors are sitting in the transport car well before the ass crack of dawn waiting for her to come out her house. She comes into the makeup trailer blasting her music and yelling along with her entourage, while Bill is reviewing his scene changes and trying to get his head into his character for the day--they knock over his coffee, get in everyone's way, and just never shut the fuck up. Her friends--and her--are all filming all the time, and Bill spends most of his time between takes trying to dodge ending up on someone's instagram or tiktok.

But y'know, it's just so pitifully ironic that the only scene this girl is keen to rehearse--a little too keen, actually--are any of the kissing scenes, or the sex scenes. And with one scheduled in just a few days time, this little nepo baby has been all over Bill trying to find proper times--evenings, of course, with a little wine to loosen up--for them to uh, practice. Bill's gag reflex has been barely contained.

And like, tiger bears the brunt of his rants at the end of every filming day. Whether it's 2AM or 2AM or anywhere in between, he always FaceTimes her when he wraps the day and tiger always thinks that vein in his neck is real damn close to bursting.

"She just...she doesn't get it tiger," he rants, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette, "This is a fucking joke to her. This is my job, my profession, and it's a fucking joke to her."

"Has anyone told her?" she asks, "Maybe she needs to be called out on it."

"Her dad's studio is partially funding this one," Bill exhales, the camera shaking as he continues to walk.

"You're fucked then," tiger smiles sadly. Bill just makes a frustrated noise before continuing to rant for the next hour.

And like, maybe tiger goes to visit him on set right? And she's not it before, the whole rehearsing an upcoming steamy scene with him--but wait wait, I'm getting ahead of myself here.

So, tiger visits him on set and sees firsthand what a fucking nightmare this girl is. Tiger spends most of her time in his trailer but somehow, she still has to dodge what feels like a million cameras all linked to a hundred different kinds of social media, all from her entourage. They ain't shy about questions that are none of their damn business either--shit like who she is, how she knows Bill, what she's doing there.

"I'm his bodyguard," she cracks, except tiger is kind of scary when she's pissed off and she's not really blinking so suddenly the gaggle of girls don't really know what to think.

In any case, tiger can definitely see why Bill has been so pissed off lately. Everything is a joke to this girl, she doesn't take anything seriously, and suddenly she's just real excited about the scenes coming up in a few days.

"We should practice tonight!" she says gleefully, as both her and Bill are sitting in the makeup trailer getting all un-done after the day. Tiger quirks a brow from the back of the room where she's playing with one of the other actor's dogs.

"No thanks," Bill says immediately.

"You can come by, I'll get some wine, we can loosen up."

"No," he says again.

"We need to rehearse," she continues, "We need to practice."

"I've had enough practice."

And thankfully one of the make up artists--tiger makes a note to give her a big hug after--one of the make up artists sees every single hair on Bill's neck stand up.

"Bill, sorry--can you stop talking? It's getting the make up caught in the creases and making it hard to remove," she says kindly. Bill gives her a wide smile.

"Sure, sorry," he says softly.

And that's the end of that.

But like, look. It's plain as day. Bill is chainsmoking. He didn't sleep that night, he just rants and rants at how repulsed he is, and how much he's dreading the next 1.5 weeks worth of scenes. Tiger does her best to distract him--keeps his whisky glass full, hell she even gets him in the sauna and sucks his soul out from his dick just to try and get his mind off it. But the sun rises the next morning as much as we sometimes wish it wouldn't, and Bill has to go to work.

I'll be waiting for you in your trailer bud," tiger says reassuringly, "Remember, you can take as many breaks as you need."

But y'know, here's the thing. Bill is getting through it, because he's a goddamned professional. Is he having fun? No. Does he hate every second of it? Yes. But it's not that. It doesn't take him long to figure out that this girl...she's purposely fucking up the scenes, just so they have to do them again. And again. And again. The scene where he has to push her up again a wall, rip her shirt open, and kiss the hell out of her? Somehow, that scene took the entire day to shoot. 57 takes.

The actual sex scene, him on top of her, both of them wearing nothing but tiny little pasties? Somehow, that took two entire days to shoot. More than 100 takes.

On any set that Bill has been on, things like that could usually be shot in anywhere from 4-6 takes--maybe half a day, depending on lighting and equipment needs.

Bill was livid. He drew the line initially and demanded a closed set, after she brought her entire entourage to watch that day. It took a lot of negotiating, but Bill wasn't budging on it.

And every single day that Bill went to set and have to film that, when he'd get home--man, he took it out on tiger. The poor girl was ravaged. Bill just needed her, needed to completely wreck her, just to get the taste and feel and everything of that other pain in the ass as far away from him as possible.

But y'know, Bill's mind is a cruel place.

And maybe its triggered by something small. He has a long day on set so tiger goes shopping, and when he comes back to his rented apartment she has some stuff strewn everywhere and Bill spots a shirt on the bed. His blood boils.

"What the fuck is this?" he marches over to it, holding it up.

"It's....my new shirt?" tiger says cautiously, "I thought it was cute."

"Get rid of it tiger," he snaps. He grabs his lighter from his pocket, flicking it open and holding it to the shirt.

"Okay whoa," tiger jumps, grabbing the shirt from him, "Easy bud. What's going on."

"She has this shirt," he seethes, "I don't ever want to see it on you."

"Ah," tiger says, "Right. You won't see it again bud."

"Promise?" he puts the lighter away.

"Promise.

But it's enough to just...kickstart some part of Bill's brain that should have stayed dormant. And that night, he drifts off to sleep with tiger in his arms and his thumb in her mouth--except he dreams of her. And it's ~spicy~. A stupid ass, unreasonable sex dream that felt really good. Amazing sex, actually, and from the noises he was making tiger wasn't sure if he was in pain or having the time of his life but the piece of plywood digging in to her back gave her a small inclination.

That is, until he woke up and all but shoved her away with enough force that she almost went tumbling off the bed.

"Bill!" she shrieked, but he was already scratching at his skin and lightly smacking his own face.

"No no no no no," he muttered, "No no no god fuck no."

"Bud?"

His eyes snap to hers and they're wild, pupils huge, his hair sticking up all over the place and his chest heaving.

"You," he says, out of breath, "Here. Now."

"What--"

"Now."

And tiger doesn't have time to do anything before two long arms wrap around her waist and haul her up with force, slamming her into his chest.

"Fuck me," he growls into her neck.

"What?" tiger's still trying to get her wits about her because a second ago she was asleep and comfy and now this wild ass enraged beast has his hands all over her and she can't quite keep up.

A hard spank lands on her ass and she squeals a little, but then he has his fist balled in her hair and his teeth biting at her neck.

"Fuck me," he growls again, "Fuck me into next fucking week."

"Bill, what the hell is going--"

But then suddenly she's in the air, and then she's pinned under his body as he looms--big and scary and totally wild--above her.

"Tiger, I just had a dream about her," he snaps, "And now you need to get it the fuck out of my head so that I never have to see it again. So I'm only going to ask you one more time."

He yanks her head back, licking up her neck before biting down hard on her earlobe. His other hand cups her harshly through her panties and she gasps.

"Fuck me," he growls.

Tiger is all too happy to oblige.

[lihikainanea]

I am picturing Bill having this specific hobby/thing he likes (a book, a game, an album, etc.) and Tiger knows about it. it's not really Her Thing but she can dabble into it (learn it, experience it). and then one day Bill talks about it and Tiger just simply agrees with him, says a few points of her own about how she's grown to like it, and Bill is just a bundle of emotions. because it's a lot of things at once. she took the time to see what it was about? and then as he listens to her talk about it more it's all OF COURSE she'd get it. OF COURSE she understands the joy he gets from it, why it means so much to him, and so on. it's just a simple moment, but Bill feels so seen and it hits him like a truck. he is so in love. they end up snuggling. :'D

oh god, what if it's something so completely out there and something so not-on-brand that he's actually a little bit shy about it? What if it's something so absurd like....like crochet, nani.

IT'S CROCHET ISN'T IT.

And I'll bet tiger thinks it's real sweet right? Because maybe Granny taught Bill how to crochet. Maybe they'd kind of spend hours together over tea and madeleines, Bill would be holding the ball of yarn while Granny's hands went a mile a minute, and eventually Bill just kind of...well, he picked it up too. And tiger thinks it's so sweet, this big dude with these huge clumsy hands, but the thing is...Bill is kind of really good at it. Like, really good. So tiger also appreciates having all kinds of warm socks and mittens and toques all custom made. And Bill is pretty damn talented, so he crochets all kinds of fancy patterns with all kinds of colours and every once in awhile when a mutual friend compliments tiger's new cute mittens, Bill just sort of smiles shyly and lets himself be a little proud.

And like, he's also super into it, you know? Once he lets go of the initial embarassment. Maybe once tiger points out that literally thousands--if not millions--of people have seen his ween (And literally the ween of nearly every male in his family) on a big screen so a little crafty habit is nothing to be ashamed of. He's part of groups. Facebook groups, online groups. One is for troubleshooting, which he turned to when he couldn't figure out why his current project was just getting wider and wider or when his chain was too tight or he was only crocheting in the front loop. One is for inspo, all kinds of things he wants to create. And one is a legit little support group in the area that meet up every so often, and Bill wishes so badly that he could go but he just doesn't want the visibility. He knows he's the only man in the group, and he's...well, he's him. it would cause a stir.

So my girl tiger--ever the one to indulge her Big Dude in all of his adorable weirdness--maybe there are like, CONS for these things. A Crochet-Con. And she gets wind of one happening about 2 hours away, way in the country side. There's only about 100 people or so who attend, it's so niche, and after some careful creeping tiger realizes that the average age of the participants is like, 80.

Nobody will know who he is there.

It's a whole 2-day event. There's discussion groups to troubleshoot common issues. There's a workshop on crocheting complex patterns. There's a small trade show area where you can sell some of your goods. So tiger gets two tickets, prints them out, and gets all giddy.

Maybe she wanted to keep it a surprise for longer, but when she bounced into the living room she saw her big dorky dude there on the couch, his thick rimmed glasses on, a foot propped up on the coffee table. His tongue was poking out the side of his mouth in concentration as his gaze was fixed on the small crochet hook, the ball of yarn, and this dainty, intricate pattern between his huge hands.

"I have a surprise for you," she smiles, plopping down on the couch. Without missing a beat Bill passes her the ball of yarn and she instinctively unravels some of it as his little crochet hook bobs and weaves at an impressive speed.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks but doesn't look away, "What's that?"

She puts her hand on the small pattern he's creating but he squawks.

"I'll drop a stitch!" he shrieks, then inspects the little piece of fabric thoroughly. Tiger just quirks a brow, and waits.

"Crisis averted?" she chuckles.

"Barely," he snarks, then he softens. "What's up kid?"

Tiger pulls the tickets out from behind her back and hands them to him, and he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Hooker Con?" he asks skeptically.

"Keep reading."

He scans the rest of the writing, and then his eyes light up.

"It's a crochet con?" he asks excitedly. She nods, smiling.

"It's two days?" he continues reading, "Troubleshooting, discussions, workshop--oh my god, the Jasmine stitch?! that one's impossible to do!"

"It's in two weeks," she says, "I thought it might be fun."

But then suddenly, his face falls.

"Tiger, what about--"

"They won't," she answers his silent question, "I creeped a few past...Hookers. They're all in their 80s bud. I don't think it'll be an issue. And if you're worried, we can glue a beard on you. Slap a wig on."

He smiles at her, leaning over to kiss her.

"There's two tickets," he mumbles, "You're going to come?"

"Of course," she chuckles, "I'd love to."

"But it's crochet," he says shyly.

"It's you," she tells him with another kiss, "And I love this little hobby of yours. I think it's sweet."

"You do?"

"Of course. And I want to...FOTH and frog and HOTH all weekend with you."

Bill laughs boisterously.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," he chuckles.

[lihikainanea]

I love the relationship between Valter and Tiger like they give off such sibling dynamics. Would you say that the dynamic between tiger and Valter is a little more different than the one between guatav and tiger and tiger and alex

oh god absolutely. Valter is the annoying little brother that tiger never had, who gets into all kinds of trouble with her. They play practical jokes on each other, they annoy each other, they fight each other.

Gustaf is tiger's soul brother--he's the gentle one, and she sees so much of where Bill got his kindness, his gentleness. Tiger admires Gustaf, everything his been through. She likes his look on life, his perspective. She could sit and listen to Gustaf talk for hours--but usually, it's the opposite. Tiger sometimes--often times--seeks him out just to talk. Gustaf is an amazing listener.

And Alex? Alex is just after a good time. Tiger respects that. Maybe he's never able to hold down a girlfriend for very long, but for as playboy-adjacent as Alex is--he's also honest about it. He's got a good heart, and watches over tiger like the big brother she never had.

[lihikainanea]

just a thought I've been contemplating lately regarding height difference but how would Bill and Tiger manage in the shower??? do they ever shower together or have they compromised on shared baths? because I KNOW Bill would hog all the water (not because he's an ass bless him but because he literally towers over tiny Tiger and the water never reaches her) and she'd complain she was cold constantly. and I also think of how Tiger would want to maybe wash Billy's hair to relax him and make him feel good maybe like after a flight or something but she didn't think this through so then when the moment comes she realises she can't even reach him 😂😂

I, not so low-key, LOVE this idea nani.

I'm uh, not tall so I don't really have an issue with showers anywhere in the world. But my experience has been most parts of North America are home to the whole shower/tub situation, where in most places its one in the same--there's a tub, you stand in it, and there's also a shower spout that's high but not like, Bill high. And in Scandinavia they're a fan of the whole wet-bathroom idea--IE, all of the bathroom is a shower and everything gets soaked. Admittedly, I was very confused at this concept upon my first voyage into Scandinavia via the Thon hotel in Lillestrøm, Norway. I put my towels on the toilet like I do in any hotel bathroom, put my change of clothes there too, and by the time I was done my shower everything was...soaked.

I was vexed.

But now I'm kind of used to it and I actually ADORE the idea of a wet bathroom because it's just so easy to clean and just makes so much sense. And of course, as in most places in Scandinavia, things are just...a little higher up. Because the population is taller.

In any case, Bill likes the whole Scandinavian shower situation because he just never seems to have a problem--his head gets under the spout. In North America, though? Oh dear. Half of him gets showered, the other half remains dry. His head towers over the shower spout and he just stands there and frowns at it.

Bill complains endlessly about the shower situation in North America.

And like, my girl tiger--tiger has no problems. Tiger is not of giant proportions. She handles it just fine in North America, and after a little getting used to the shower situation and soaking wet bathroom in Scandinavia--she has that nailed down too.

But maybe....maybe this is on one of their road trips? Oh, be still my heart. All dingy, no-name motels and small towns. It's a beat up mustang convertible in small towns across the southern US. It's no-name hotels, it's diners, it's open road and long sunsets. And maybe they've been driving all day, gummy candy piled high in tiger's lap while Bill has his RayBans on, one hand on the stick shift, all the windows open. Bruce Springsteen is blasting and tiger is singing along (horribly). She's full of dodgy corndogs from the last gas stop, Bill's fingers are still stained neon orange from Doritos, and every once in awhile she shoves a gummy bear in his mouth. They have no idea where they're gong, and it doesn't matter.

But after hours of driving they pull into some weird town and find a motel for the night. He stops off at a liquor store and tiger gets some scotch. They get some peanuts from the vending machine in the parking lot, and the parking lot is right outside their door. It's sticky hot, humid, the dead of summer and the hum of cicadas and the buzz of the bug zapper break the silence.

Maybe they've both had a rough go of it lately, maybe neither of them have. Maybe Bill's off and between shoots and tiger can work from anywhere, maybe it's cold where they last stayed, maybe it was too busy with too many lights--maybe it was everything and nothing, maybe they busted wanted to reconnect with each other, and this is the best way they know how.

Dinner is whatever they can scrounge up. Pub fare from a local dive. Whatever they can find in the hot section of the local gas stop, even if it looks like those hot dogs have been turning on that hot plate for a year. They fill their bellies and their souls, laughing at the terrible karaoke and knocking back even more terrible spirits on ice. When they get back to the motel they sit out on rickety plastic chairs, knocking back scotch that burns and easing the sting with the salt of the peanuts. They talk about everything--how they feel, who they are, who they've become, them, the us of it--and nothing at all. And when Bill finally fans the neck of his t-shirt, exhales loudly, tiger smiles.

"Bit sticky ain't it?" she asks.

Bill widens his eyes, fans himself.

"You look like a sweat hog triple-dipped in Crisco and strung up on a grease pole," she smirks.

Bill eyes her, quirks a brow.

"What?' she asks innocently, "I always say that."

Bill stares at her, takes a swig of his scotch without breaking eye contact.

"I heard our waitress say it," she finally mumbles. Bill snorts.

"C'mon," she stands, pulling on his arm, "Shower. Bed."

Bill knocks back the rest of his scotch and lets her pull him up.

"Bold of you to assume I fit into either of those things," he whispers mischievously, stealing a kiss. Tiger just smirks.

"Bold of you to assume I don't have years of experience shoving you into all kinds of places you don't fit, big bird."

She pulls him down into a heated kiss and he tastes of cheap whisky and smoke. He moans into it but before he can grab hold of her for more she breaks free, tugs him into the dingy room. He steals as many kisses as he can while she gets him out of his pants, tugs his t-shirt over his head. She starts the shower, testing the water as he pulls impatiently at her clothes, and then she ducks under the stream of water and pulls him in with her.

It's laughable, really. He has to duck under the shower rod and his head nearly hits the ceiling, the shower nozzle only hitting halfway down his chest. She stifles a giggle and he glares playfully.

"This is fun," he deadpans.

"Come on bud," she giggles, "Come down here, I'll wash your hair."

He tries crouching but the space really is just too small and he really is just too big, so after a bit of shifting he finally just ends upon his knees in the tub while tiger grabs the shampoo.

But y'know...on his knees, he's really at the perfect height. And her hands are in his hair anyway, and he's feeling a might bit mischievous, so maybe he just places a suckling kiss on her lower belly...and then another one...and then before she can yank him back, he dives forward and swipes his tongue through her folds.

"Bill," she tries to admonish, but it comes out as more of a pleasured sigh. She runs her hands through his hair, lathering it up, and while she's rather defenseless--he does it again.

"Stop," she says meekly, but her legs are going to jello and her hands are kind of tugging him forward, grasping at his hair. So he grabs one of her legs, loops it onto his shoulder.

"Hold on tight kid," he purrs.

"Billy no," she whimpers.

"Hush," he tuts her, "Just trying to make us both fit in here. This is the only way."

[lihikainanea]

JUST THOUGHTZ

Okay so first and foremost, thank you to one of my followers for sending me this TikTok where the girl tries to convince her otherwise huge boyfriend that he is, in fact....actually quite smol.

And like, what if tiger does this? Just because she’s bored, just because she’s kind of an asshole, just because of no good reason at all--she thinks this would be quite fun.

And it starts off small, innocent, innocuous. Just enough to kind of confuse Bill. It’s champagne Fridays and the nice champagne flutes are on the high shelf safe out of the reach of a clumsy tiger, so maybe when 5PM (oh who are we kidding--3PM) rolls around and tiger is finishing up her work day on the kitchen table, Bill pulls a frosty bottle out of the fridge.

“Oh honey, hang on,” tiger coos softly. And there’s just a hint of....sympathy? Pity? in her tone. Bill watches her, confused, as she gets a stool and pats his arm.

“It’s okay little guy,” she says. Bill feels placated, he feels confused, he feels miffed. He watches in total bewilderment as tiger steps up onto the stool and gets the champagne flutes, hands them to him.

“Height isn’t everything,” she gives his cheek a pat.

“I...know?” he mumbles.

But then she’s sitting at the table again, tapping away, and Bill has no idea what just happened.

And then it just gets so much worse, and so much more confusing for Bill.

Maybe that night tiger wraps herself around him as the big spoon, pats the top of his head lovingly. She has one hand rubbing his back, the other through his hair, Bill’s face is smooshed in her chest and he’s feeling so warm and snuggly and a little drunk from the bubbles.

“It’s okay you know,” she murmurs soothingly. Bill is already nearly unconscious so he’s not sure what’s okay but that’s alright.

“Being tall isn’t everything.”

Bill furrows his brow, unpastes his lips from her chest.

“What?”

“Shhh,” she soothes, “I’m okay with it.”

Bill pushes back from her a bit, looks at her like she has a second head.

“Okay with what exactly?” he asks.

“With this,” tiger says innocently, “With you.”

“Tiger--” he starts; but then she scratches that spot on the side of his ear that physically makes his brain short circuit and he just groans.

“Shhh,” she says again, pulling him back into her chest. “Sleep.”

But then like, the next day it gets worse right. Tiger is feeling like being an even bigger asshole.

“Hey bud,” she says softly, and Bill looks up from the crossword puzzle he’s doing at the kitchen table.

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever wish you were....tall?”

Bill’s eye flick up over his glasses and he quirks a brow.

“You mean taller?” he asks. Tiger takes a sip of her coffee.

“Aw bud,” she says in that same sympathetic tone and Bill slams down his pencil. “No, I mean...tall.”

“Tiger, are you shitting me?”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re sensitive about it,” she says, “And I just....I want you to know it’s okay. I’m okay with it.”

“With what.”

“With you not being tall,” she coos, “Bud, I love it. I stan me a short king. It’s okay.”

“Are you out of your goddamn mind,” he deadpans, “Tiger, I am tall.”

“Bill it’s okay, I’m fine with it,” she placates. Bill’s eyes are getting progressively bigger and more wild.

“There’s--there’s nothing to be okay with,” he stammers, “I’m tall.”

“It’s doesn’t matter bud,” she says, and just to be an extra asshole she goes even further--”Who cares what anybody else thinks.”

“Are you high?” he snaps. She gets that same look of pity on her face that makes Bill irrationally angry.

“It’s not always about height Bill,” she murmurs, “You have so many other incredible qualities.”

“I know that. And it’s not even about that,” he shakes his head as if to clear the fog of this insanity, “Tiger you are literally the size of a fucking hobbit, have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Fuck societal norms, fuck all this pressure on men to be tall,” she continues, “I love you just the way you are.”

“I am tall,” he all but shrieks, and then tiger goes in for the kill shot. She sizes him up, purses her lips.

“I mean, Alex is tall,” she says, “But you’re special in your own way.”

Bill almost flips the table.

[lihikainanea]

Love Tiger and Bill 🖤 Especially love jealous, angry Bill lol Wonder how he'd be coming home from a really long time away filming to find Tiger has a new friend ... the hot new neighbor. They are just friends and Tiger isn't into him just fun to have someone to hang with they have a lot in common. And maybe he's gay but she doesn't tell Bill that part bc she's enjoying the jealous possessive Bill rn Of course she pays for leaving that out once Bill discovers it 😂 Sorry if this is lame. It's just jealous, angry Bill fucks me up 🤷

unnnnnnnf nani I love this, I am ALWAYS here for some (healthy, consensual) jealousy in their dynamic.

And like, it starts off small right? The new dude moves in, tiger--being tiger--wants to make him cookies to welcome him to the neighbourhood. Bill hates the idea, because this dude is about his age, not ghoul-ish looking, not freakishly tall, not famous--doesn't come with any of the baggage that Bill does. And the dude is clearly in the upper percentile of income if he can afford the place, so right away the inherent caveman alpha instincts in Bill identifies this other dude as a potential threat to his own gorilla haram which is like...well, tiger.

In any case, tiger's probably a little aware of Bill's peacock chest puffing out but tiger also likes her dude a little possessive, a little jealous. So she heads to the kitchen and much to Bill's horror, she starts making her renowned chocolate chip cookies.

And like, tiger's chocolate chip cookies are legendary. They are evasive and elusive and just precisely once you stop being so obsessed with them, stop thinking about the chewy morsels of soft, gooey heaven, right when your brain thinks it can finally start functioning normally again--they suddenly appear and send you back into a downward spiral. She doesn't always make them. In fact, most times she flat out refuses requests, beggings of various levels of dire need, sonnets and poems, barter agreements--all of which come from Bill's brothers. They beg. They plead. They vaguely threaten.

Tiger never gives in because she insists that part of the reason why the cookies are so damn good--why everyone is obsessed with them--is for the precise reason that they never know when they'll be able to eat them again. They are, for all intents and purposes, completely inaccessible.

So Bill like, almost lets out a horrified shriek when she starts pulling down the ingredients but instead he clenches his jaw, balls his fist, and goes to play his video games--the whole while reiterating that he thinks this is a terrible idea because the only good neighbours are neighbours you keep at a distance.

And like, I'll bet the kicker here is when he knows a few batches are done--man, that smell is incredible--he heads to the kitchen, pours a tall glass of milk, and reaches for a cookie.

But tiger--switching pans, spatula in hand, barely even sparing him a glance--just smacks his hand as he reaches. Smacks it hard. He yelps.

"Not for you," she says, still not looking at him.

"Just one!"

"It's never just one."

He waits a beat, and when she turns to put another pan in the oven, he stealthily reaches again--but from behind the counter, completely out of sight, tiger just reaches up and smacks his hand away again. He huffs, down his glass of milk in two gulps and goes to put it in the sink.

On his way back, he winds up and lays a hard smack on her ass--real hard--and tiger shrieks in surprise.

"An eye for an eye," he says lowly in her ear--and then he stalks off like the little angry cloud of bad feelings that he is.

Awhile later, she goes to the living room with the cookies piled high on the plate.

"I don't suppose you want to come with me to meet our new neighbour?" she asks, her hand cocked on her hip.

"Do I get to have a cookie?" he mutters petulantly. Tiger rolls her eyes.

"No."

"Then no."

It's a staring match for a few seconds, then tiger sighs and shakes her head, heading off.

Bill--of course--runs to the window to watch this all go down and seethe in shadows.

He sees tiger give a big wave. He sees the guy lift up his shirt to dab the sweat off his brow. He sees the guy smile--the smile widening when tiger hands him the plate full of cookies. He sees tiger extend her hand, the guy returning the gesture. He sees the guy grab a cookie, take a huge bite, and sees his eyes close in bliss as he clutches at his heart. More smiles. More laughs.

Bill is bitter as hell so he leaves, thinking maybe tiger left a few cookies in the kitchen for him--he's livid when he sees this isn't the case, a deep pout already on his face when he hears the front door open. Tiger wordlessly strides in--her big dude all scowls and evil eyes and glares--and she opens up the microwave, takes out a plate full of cookies.

"His name is Gary and he's really nice," she says, then she grabs a handful of Bill's shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. "You're a child."

Then she plunks the plate of cookies in his hands and walks away.

And then like, a week or two later, their doorbell rings. And it's Gary, all settled in now, inviting them over for a barbecue next weekend so he can get to know his neighbours.

And of course Bill thinks that is a terrible idea but tiger excitedly agrees.

It's a rough night for tiger that night, and her ass is bruised for days.

It's another rough night a few days later, when he sees her fervently tapping away on her phone.

"Who are you texting?" he asks, nudging her feet that are on his lap.

"Gary," she says, "Just want to see what we can bring to his barbecue."

Bill sits up a little straighter.

"You have his number?" he asks.

She cocks a brow.

"Yes?" she says, "He's our neighbour. Of course I have his number."

And that's no bueno for Bill. But listen, by that point, tiger already knows about Gary--because when Bill was off at meetings one afternoon, the good ole' neighbour gave tiger some basil from his garden--except it wasn't Gary. It was an equally attractive, handsome man that introduced himself as Gary's husband.

But tiger likes it when her dude is a little irrationally jealous.

And since Gary's husband works nights and travels a lot, he sleeps during the day so Bill hasn't had the pleasure of finding out that he has nothing to worry about.

So listen, the day of the barbecue, right? Tiger forces Bill to make a potato salad--he makes a great potato salad and he's all but so tempted to purposely fuck this one up, until tiger wakes him up with morning head and suddenly he's a lot less grumpy. So he makes his stupid little potato salad. He grumbles as tiger makes a stupid little apple pie.

They head over in the evening--Bill all scowls and frown lines--and knock on the door. Gary answers, a big smile on his face, and tiger is a little sad that her charade will come to an end that night when Bill inevitably meets Gary's husband.

But Gary gives tiger a big hug--Bill almost threw him off her, and then turns his big stupid smiling face to Bill.

"And who's tiny over here?" he asks cheerfully. Bill pops his neck.

"This is my, uh..my um..." tiger stammers, "This is my Bill."

Bill's chest puffs up a little at that. Her Bill.

"Pleasure!" Gary says, and it really is innocent and cheerful and happy. He extends a hand, and Bill all too eagerly grabs it--and proceeds to crush it in a vice grip. He smiles when he sees Gary wince.

"Pleasure's all mine," he says through clenched teeth, "I made potato salad."

"Oh uh, thanks," Gary retracts his hand quickly, "Come on in, you know where the backyard is."

And listen, in a quiet moment--maybe when tiger offers to help him in the kitchen--they chat a little, and Gary mentions that hubby really wanted to be there but is away on business.

"Oh really?" tiger says a little too excitedly, "How disappointing."

Her charade can continue for just a little longer.

And like, for Bill, it just gets worse. Because now, as neighbours, they're friendly. Gary hands stuff to tiger over the fence from his garden, and tiger gets all happy. They exchange food whenever their dinner was a bit too much. When Bill travels, tiger sends him some photos of the pool party that her and Gary have.

Bill is livid.

Tiger knows the fun has to end sometime, but she's trying to milk this for all it's worth.

Until one Sunday afternoon, when she's in the shower and the doorbell rings. Bill opens the door a crack--usually he won't open the door at all and leave her to do it because it gives him serious anxiety due to his fame, but he opens the door a crack and he sees something that puts him at ease--a plate that he recognizes as tiger's. It's a platter, a Lene Bjerre one to be exact, and he knows it's tiger's because he bought it for her during one of their vacations in Copenhagen.

But it's in the hands of a man he's never seen before. Both men kind of look at each other quizzically, equally a bit stunned.

"Oh uh, sorry," the man holding the plate stammers, "I don't think we've met yet."

"And you are?" Bill says, a bit impatiently. He registers the sound of the shower stopping.

"I'm Neil, Gary's husband," he extends a hand, "Pleasure to finally meet."

Bill nearly falls on the floor.

"Gary's husband," he says with a laugh, then he smiles wide enough to crack his face and shakes the man's hand with exuberance. "Gary's husband."

"Yes..." the man says somewhat uncomfortably, "And you are?"

"Right, yes, sorry. I'm Bill," he's still shaking the man's hand.

"Tiger," he calls over his shoulder into the house, "Gary's HUSBAND is here to return your plate."

Tiger's eyes widen, and she emerges from the bathroom with her hair still up in a towel. She pads quietly to the door.

"Oh hi Neil," she says softly. Bill just crosses his arms, leans against the doorframe and smirks down at her.

"Ah, so you two have met?" Bill says with a shit eating grin, "You've met Gary's husband?"

"Just briefly," she stutters, her cheeks going red. Neil holds out the plate, and tiger takes it.

"Thanks Neil," Bill says cheerfully, "It was a pleasure meeting you. See you around."

Then he quickly closes the door, and his face goes from bright and cheerful to stony and angry. Tiger gulps and starts to back up, but Bill takes one step forward for every step back.

"You are in so much trouble," he threatens lowly, "I hope it was worth it."

Tiger bites her lip.

"Put the plate down."

She does.

"Now run little one."

[lihikainanea]

hey lei, what about refusing to be a good girl?

Mmmm, I have run my mouth about brat tiger a lot and how delicious it is, but it's been a hot minute hasn't it? Sometimes her brat mode isn't voluntary, she's just fussy. And sometimes the little hellion knows exactly what she's doing.

And you know, the thing with tiger is she loves being his good girl. She really does. She needs it, he needs it, it's incredibly fulfilling for both of them--tiger gets to just let go of all the real world things and not worry about a goddamn thing just for a small period of time. Tiger is a boss bitch, she handles everything life throws at her and punches back twice as hard--but that gets tiring. It gets hard. And being his good girl means that she can just...let all of that go. She can bask in this wonderful state of not worrying, not handling anything, completely handing over all control and knowing that she's going o be taken care of. It's a salve, a small sanctuary in the midst of chaos that she can run to.

And Bill loves that too--it satisfies every single protector fibre he has in his body, to step in and be able to take care of shit for a girl who is MORE than capable of handling it on her own--but that wants him to take care of it. That's an incredibly empowering concept for both of them--this idea that it's not needed, but it's wanted. It's welcomed. It's embraced.

But you know, tiger is still....tiger. And get fucked asshole is like, her favourite sentence. She's hell. She's fire. She's inhumane. She's an asshole. She has a resistance kink the size of fucking Jupiter and she knows Bill does too, so while being his good girl is soothing--being a complete fucking dick is fun.

And I'll bet too that is happens in some wildly inconvenient moments, you know? Not that she would ever jeopardize Bill's career or ruin anything for him, but Bill gets real nervous at red carpets or during press junkets or at important meetings with directors and producers for roles he really wants. And maybe it's slightly subconscious on tiger's part--but those are the exact moments where she decides that being bad is a whole lot more fun than being good--and you know what? It gives Bill something else to focus on. It turns his anxiety about work into quietly bubbling rage/hormones about her and her defiance.

It happens at events--she never walks the red carpet with him because god that's her nightmare--but as soon as they're safely tucked away where no press and no cameras are allowed, it’s game on. Maybe she doesn’t even realize the pattern of when this always happens, but it sure does always seem to happen when Bill is in dire need of a distraction to take his mind off of his rapidly increasing blood pressure, the tightness and shortness of breath in his chest, the ringing in his ears. It happens right when he needs to focus on something else--someone else--just to Gian some solid ground to stand on.

It’s precisely the moment where tiger is ever so inclined to morph into Brat Mode XL. And I’ll bet she even looks different, doesn’t she? Of course she does. Tiger has a whole look when she’s small that Bill can pick up on from across the room--her shoulder hunch in on themselves, her gaze is nervous and fleeting, hell her whole body just shrinks up a little smaller.

And the exact OPPOSITE happens when she’s full of hell and fire, and Bill picks up on that just as quickly too. It’s the defiant gleam in her eyes, the cock of her brow, the way her shoulders are squared. He walks in from the insanity that was walking the red carpet, multi-coloured blobs still clouding his vision from all the camera flashes going off, and his team is babbling a quick debrief in his ear--he has a few minutes to relax, mingle, they’ll come and get him when it’s time for the audience to be ushered into the theatre. He searches for tiger and spots her after a few minutes, and sees that she’s already locked her eyes on him--she’s at the bar, two shots of tequila in front of her with slices of lime and the salt shaker.

Bless her, Bill thinks. An angel.

But as he walks towards her, tiger smirks, licks the salt from her wrist--and downs one tequila shot, and then the other. She sucks the lime between her teeth as Bill reaches her, a mild look of disapproval already on his face.

“Gee thanks,” he says sarcastically, picking up the empty shot glass.

“Mmm,” tiger hums, ripping the pulp from the lime with her teeth and plopping the rind in the empty shot glass.

“Another one,” the bartender slides another shot across the bar to her, “For the devil in the black dress.”

Bill knows the dumbstruck, awed, totally turned on smile on the bartender’s face. Tiger is always oblivious to the attention she draws from men, but Bill never misses it. This guy is setting up to shoot his shot, and Bill already wants to hit something.

Except tiger smiles back at the bartender and it’s dripping with flirty intentions.

“Watch it,” he warns her, and it’s low and dangerous.

Tiger just licks her wrist, tips some salt onto it. She sucks her pulse point.

“Make me,” she purrs, and then she tilts her head back and downs the shot. She sucks on the lime, and then hops off her bar stool--purposely sliding down the front of Bill’s body, and he sucks in a sharp breath. Tiger smiles knowingly.

“Thanks champ,” she calls to the bartender, “I’ll come find you later.”

The guy nearly drops the martini shaker he was holding. Tiger disappears into the crowd, but Bill catches up to her in a few steps.

“What game are you playing?” he growls into her ear.

“Game?” she asks innocently, “No game, big guy. I’m good, remember?”

They’re standing close, talking low, but the place is crowded and dark so it doesn’t earn them any second glances. She takes a step closer and brushes her knuckles--rather firmly--against the front of his pants. It’s so unexpected, so bold, that Bill jumps.

“Your good girl,” she purrs, and this time she just goes and grabs a whole handful and Bill grunts, “Right?”

“Tiger I swear to fucking god--” he growls.

“Alex!” she suddenly shrieks, and it’s gleeful and loud and her face lights up. Bill jumps again, but tiger is already gone.

“Alex!” she repeats, and this time the older big talking tree spots her.

“Smurf!” he says, and then tiger is running up to him and throwing her arms around his neck and Alex is bending so she can reach, and picking her up to swing her around.

Bill’s hand twitches with the spanking she’s already earned herself later. But also--the ringing in his ears has stopped. His blood pressure is dropping, and unfortunately all the blood is pooling uh, somewhere else. The stress of the red carpet is already evaporated from his mind.

Because all he sees is tiger’s gleeful, playful grin and the fact that it’s directed at Alex and Bill’s jaw is clenched.

And like, it doesn’t end there right? Of course not. He finds a few opportunities to give tiger some rather harsh warnings, but all she does is just smile defiantly and patronize him--flick his tie, pat his chest, keep telling him she’s his good girl and she would never.

Her attitude and sheer brazenness sends a thrill down his spine.

Because being good is satisfying, she needs it, but being a complete asshole is so thrilling too--and damn if she doesn’t want the punishment, you know?

Damn if she doesn’t keep this little act up even while he’s punishing her, later on that night. Because she needs it hard, and man Bill needs to take all these feelings out on someone and she’s all too willing to take it.

[lihikainanea]

hi lei :) I have little request I guess for bill + tiger, I’m not sure if you’ve written something similar. but tiger is having a rough time just with friendships + family. every time she brings up any issues that have been going on in her life, they brush it off as no big deal - kind of, “just get over it” - making her internalize A LOT. & she starts to feel a little of that coldness from bill. but he’s all wrapped up in a new project & didn’t mean anything by it and just shows her in every which way that he listening and he does care. if this sucks i am so sorry -🐝

HELLO SWEET EMOJBEE. Sorry I have let this hang around for so long!

Man, I feel this on a deep level. One of those annoying things (or great things? jury's still out) that happens as you get older is your friends group just...really kind of dwindles. You're lucky if you can count your close friends on one full hand, and maybe that's okay.

And y'know the thing with tiger is that her and Bill are still kind of keeping this big secret, you know? Yes, his family knows. But their friends...their friends still don't know. And like anybody, tiger sometimes gets on Bill's nerves and Bill sometimes annoys the shit out of tiger and when that happens, there's not a whole lot of people that they can vent to about it.

Bill's probably been away for a bit, and that' what kickstarts this whole thing. Tiger really misses him this round. She always really misses him, sure, but when things are hectic with work and the days are getting darker and the weather is getting shittier, sometimes it's extra hard. And she's been mopey and down, not quite herself, and hell you know what? She's even been a little self-absorbed about it because that's okay. When you're feeling down sometimes you can barely manage to claw your way out of your own feelings, let alone take on everybody else's. Tiger has always been a sounding board, for nearly everyone--she's a great listener, she genuinely cares about people, she's incredibly loyal to her close knit group of friends. But that sometimes means that she's a dump truck for everyone's negativity, everyones problems, everything going wrong in all of their lives.

And sometimes she just doesn't have the capacity to take it on.

So she withdraws, gets quiet. And her friends are so wrapped up in their own bullshit that they accuse her of not being present, of being too self-absorbed to listen to them and to lend a supportive hand. For an empath like tiger, that really cuts deep--because all she wants, ever, is just for everyone to be okay and happy. And she tries to hard to be supportive, to be there for her friends, but sometimes she just...she just can't. Mentally, she's tapped out.

So on top of her mopey, sad feelings at really missing her big dude, her totally shitty time at work with a nightmare boss--now her closest support network has gone and like, abandoned her.

Bill's not calling much because he's so busy on set, and this is a big project so tiger tries not to bother him with her own needs.

And you know what I love? I bet, in Bill's absence, she turns to somebody who has every bit of his kindness, his gentleness, his essence. I bet she kind of just shows up on Gustaf's doorstep one evening, soaking wet from the rain, looking a little forlorn and a whole lot down.

And Gustaf? Gustaf knows a lost soul when he sees one. So without a word he just ushers her in, takes her wet coat from her. He grabs a blanket from the couch and throws it over her shoulders as he guides her to the kitchen, where he sets her up on a bar stool and grabs two mugs down from the cupboard.

"I don't know why I'm here," tiger mumbles softly. Gustaf fills up a kettle, plops two tea bags in the mugs before he stirs something on the stove.

"You don't need a reason," he shrugs kindly. He ladles a big spoonful of soup into a bowl, grinds some pepper over it, and slides it to her.

"Want to talk about it?" he offers. Tiger shakes her head solemnly.

"That's okay too," he says. He disappears for a second but when the kettle pops he comes back, pours two mugs and then takes a seat next to tiger and rolls out a mat.

"A puzzle?" she asks. He smiles gently.

"Puzzles are great for getting you to focus on just...anything else," he says, "I was doing one puzzle every few days when I was in rehab."

This one already has some pieces put together--so in silence, while tiger slurps on her soup, the two of them just sit there and start putting it together. Eventually--after an hour, hell maybe 3--tiger's phone buzzes and she jumps. She answers the FaceTime call and Bill's face suddenly floods the screen, with lots of movements--he's walking somewhere, and quickly at that.

"Hey kid," he says, "I don't have much time, just wanted to call to say--where are you?"

His brow furrows and he squints. Tiger looks sheepish even though she shouldn't.

"I'm at Gustaf's," she mumbles. Bill quirks a brow.

"Why are you there? Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine," she says, "I just wanted some company."

"Gustaf," Bill says--and it's in that Swedish lilt, and sure enough, he starts yammering in that goofy language a second later. Gustaf leans into the shot, answers in Swedish, and tiger understands nothing.

"Shit kid that's all the time I have," Bill switches back to English, "I'll try and call you later ok? We can talk."

"Ok," she mumbles.

And then he's gone. No love you, no other spoken words, just....gone. Tiger puts her phone down and sighs, and Gustaf pushes a few more puzzle pieces towards her.

"Want to crash here tonight?" he asks.

"I should go home," she says lowly.

"I don't do lots of things I should do," he smirks and god she sees Bill in it. She sighs again.

"He'll be home soon," Gustaf tells her, but tiger shakes her head.

"It's not just him," she mumbles, "It's everyone."

Gustaf doesn't press, because Gustaf never presses. He's comfortable in silence. Tiger doesn't say more--but after another hour, with a big sigh, she stands.

"Offer's still on the table," he says. Tiger manages a wry smile.

"Thanks Gustaf," she says, "For...everything."

She hugs him and he squeezes her in tight.

"Text me when you get home," he says. And she does. She takes a hot shower when she gets in, makes another cup of tea, and she waits for Bill to call.

But he never does.

Tiger is alone for two solid weeks, with no one to talk to. No friends she can lean on because they're all mad at her, her family has never quite been the open type, and by the time Bill gets home tiger is just so isolated, and in emotional torment. Work is horrible, with a brutal boss and she just can't do anything right. Her friends haven't spoken a single word to her in weeks. She's barely gotten the chance to talk to Bill and when she has he's always been on the way to do something else, distracted, cold, aloof.

He gets home and she could just sag in relief, but it feels different than other times right from the start. He's on the phone when he comes in, talking to his agent, and after a month or two of not seeing each other he just puts his hand over the microphone, leans down for a quick peck.

"Agent," he whispers, pointing to the phone, and then tiger is forgotten about again as he makes his way to his office in the back of his apartment.

Tears pool in her eyes but she shrugs it off, angry with herself for being so emotional, and just hauls his suitcases into the laundry room for unpacking. He's in his office for hours, and tiger is just...numb. To everything. By the time he's done she's asleep in bed, all curled up around herself.

The next morning she wakes up, reaches over, and finds...nothing. She half wonders if it was a dream that Bill was home, until she hears him puttering around the apartment. She looks to the nightstand and sees a cup of coffee, so at least there’s that--but it’s lukewarm by now, at best. She sighs.

When she finally gets the courage to get out of bed, she hears him moving around in his office--and she knocks softly, opening the door a second later. Bill’s taping images to the wall, the white board full of scribbles, transforming his office into the psyche of some character like he always does before a big audition or a role.

“Hi,” she stammers. He turns around and smiles.

“Hey kid,” he greets, but he doesn’t move to give her a kiss or a hug--instead he turns, and goes right back to the task at hand.

“Have you been up for long?” she asks.

“A few hours. Jet lag,” he shrugs.

“Are you hungry?” she asks.

“I ate already, whatever I could scrounge up,” he laughs, “When did you last do the groceries?”

And like, usually the sheer lack of food in the house would be met with concern from him, even a light scolding--because it means she’s not taking care of herself. But this one just flies right over his head and he laughs it off.

Tiger just shrugs.

“Well we’ll go this afternoon,” he says as he turns back around, “I think there’s some cereal left.”

And that’s it. He’s back in his own world.

The groceries never happen that afternoon, and in fact, he barely emerges from his office until dinner time. Tiger tries to talk to him, to have a legit conversation, but he kind of shrugs her off.

“I have a wicked headache kid,” he says, “I’m going to turn in early. My inner clock is still all fucked up.”

And with a chaste kiss goodnight, he retreats to the room and tiger retreats ever so further into herself.

This continues for days--and when he finally reaches for her, when she feels his lips on her neck and the closeness of his chest pressed into her back, when she’s finally filled up with him in every way she needs--she cries. Because it’s been so much, for so long, and this is the only bit of closeness she’s felt to someone she cared about in months. But Bill misreads it, or just doesn’t read more into it, and thinks she’s just emotional about the situation at hand.

“Oh sweet girl,” he coos, “I missed you too.”

And all too soon it’s over, he’s asleep, and after months of sleeping alone he’s not used to holding anyone anymore so she drifts from his arms and she’s curled up on her side of the bed--alone again.

At lunch with his family the next day, she gets a worried look and a concerned hug from Gustaf--she looks like hell, just like an absolute shell of a human, and somehow he’s the only one to notice. Bill babbles excitedly about his upcoming auditions, the huge role he just booked, and tiger goes to sit by the fireplace--alone, again.

And like, I’m torn here right--Because how does Bill finally figure it the fuck out? Maybe Gustaf smacks him upside the head and tells him to pay attention. Maybe Bill says something about wanting to have the friend’s group over for dinner and tiger quips that she’s not sure anyone would come because they haven’t spoken to her in months.

But I like this thought that like...tiger kind of just snaps. Bill’s gone on a dude’s night, and maybe it’s there that he gets wind that something is amiss because one of the guys asks how tiger is, and mentions that nobody has seen her in months. And tiger is just having another real bad night, but instead of showing up on Gustaf’s doorstep, maybe she goes somewhere else to get the comfort she needs, somewhere she can scream until her lungs burn.

She goes to the water, and sit’s on Granny’s favourite park bench. Tiger was never one for cemeteries, and neither was granny--in granny’s view, the furthest disconnection you can feel to a person is if you go to the actual cemetery. Spirits and essences are all around, and when tiger needs comfort, she goes to the rickety, old park bench that her and Granny used to sit at for hours. In her final days Granny couldn’t move around too much, couldn’t walk too far, so tiger used to drive her to this spotted help her hobble to the bench, where they’d spend hours talking or just staring out onto the water.

When Bill gets home that night, the apartment is in moderate disarray and tiger is nowhere to be found. But he knows where she is. He grabs a thicker scarf, wraps it around his neck, and then heads out into the night.

He sees tiger’s silhouette illuminated by a streetlamp, and he can already see her shoulders shaking. As he approaches he can hear her deep sobs, and they claw at his chest. He’s careful to make some noise as he approaches so she doesn’t jump, and he just takes a seat next to her on the bench. Her sobs don’t ease, in fact they get a bit worse for a few moments.

“Breathe kid,” he says gently, and he reaches an arm around her shoulders.

“What’s going on tiger?” he asks after a few minutes. Tiger just sniffles, and she looks up at him pitifully.

And damnit it’s the first time he really sees her, and he almost gasps. She looks like hell. How long has she been like this, and he just didn’t realize? Deep, dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks far more hollow than they used to be, this overwhelming presence of sadness and despair just...all over her. Her hair is unwashed, her coat dirty, her nails all chipped and bitten down. He scoots in closer.

“Tiger why haven’t our friends seen you in months?” he asks quietly.

“They’re mad at me,” she whispers.

“Did you guys have a fight?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

And she still has the gall--the fight inside of her--to guffaw at that. Loudly.

“When? In the 3 cumulative minutes that I’ve seen you since you’ve been home?” she snaps.

“I deserve that,” Bill says. And you know, he’s a little taken aback--bu truth be told, he’s also relieved. When tiger still has fire in her, it’s a good sign. If she’s still snapping, it’s a good sign. Complete resignation is harder to deal with, harder to pull her back from.

“Yes you do deserve that,” she barks, “You come home and it’s like you’re still away because you’re just never around--” but her words catch in her throat, and to Bill’s dismay, tiger just sags and starts to cry again. He gets off the bench and crouches in front of her, cupping her face in his hands

“Tiger I’m sorry,” he ducks to catch her gaze and god the sadness he sees there just breaks him. “I’m sorry you’ve been having a hard time, and I’m sorry I’ve been oblivious to it all.”

“It’s been a lot,” she rasps out between sobs, “It’s all been so much.”

He brushes the hair from her eyes, and swipes at her wet cheeks with his thumbs.

“I’m sorry sweet girl, I’m here now,” he murmurs to her, “Really here.”

“Everyone,” she chokes on a sob, “Everyone is mad at me.”

“Tiger can I take you home?” he asks gently, “We’ll talk it all out, okay? I promise sweet girl. Everything. And we’ll figure it out together.”

She nods feebly, and he helps her to her feet. He stops to pull her into his chest for a long hug, just keeping her cradled in there.

“I’m sorry kid,” he mumbles into her hair, “We’ll fix it.”

She lets him guide her home and listen, it’s a loooong few days for them. That night, maybe she can’t do anything other than just cry. She can’t get a word out, can’t explain anything, she just cries--and Bill just holds her. Maybe he can finally coax her into a shower when the majority of her sobs have quieted down, and he’ll wash her hair for her and try to get her to eat a little something or at least get her some tea for her throat. That night he mostly stays awake, just to ensure that she doesn’t get an inch out of his arms--and when she wakes up he’s still there, rubbing her back, murmuring to her. It takes a day or two before she can let it all out, tell him everything that’s been going on, but Bill just waits.

And I’ll bet once she lets it all out--once he lets her stew in it, once he lets her really feel it all--they make a plan. Because Bill’s an action dude. They make a plan for her to reach out to her friends when she feels ready. They make a plan for her to deal with her bullshit boss. Bill does the groceries and stocks the house full of food and starts cooking again, making sure she’s eating and drinking and finally starting to feel like a human again.