#but all that really needs to be said is that it was exhausting and i'm done socialising for the rest of the month

[ckret2]

Chapter 49 of human Bill Cipher being such a miserable prisoner even the Pines are starting to feel bad for him: The Eclipse: Epilogue.

####

"The heck did you do to that poor woman?" Tate asked, staring out the window. Bill was sitting on the pier, legs dangling in the water, staring blankly into the depths. He was still muddy and trembling. "She looks more traumatized than when y'all left."

Ford couldn't meet Tate's gaze under the brim of his hat, but he could feel Tate raising a brow when he spotted Dipper pacing back and forth on the pier behind Bill, muttering furiously.

"We've had a very bad day," Ford said. 

"Uh-huh."

"Could I borrow your phone to call my brother?"

Outside, Dipper was oblivious to everything except the one line he'd managed to remember from the Axolotl, the words he'd picked out as they crossed the lake. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,'" Dipper murmured. He knew that much. It was a poem. It was a rhyme. He couldn't remember the rest. What did it mean? He murmured it over and over to himself as he walked, trying to remember the next line, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes,' 'sixty degrees that come in threes'... breeze, freeze, ease, lease, knees—" He couldn't remember the rhyme.

Bill was considering grabbing Dipper by the ankle and dragging him off the pier just to shut him up when whatsisname, the younger McGucket came out of the shop. "Hello there? Miss Goldie?"

Human. Strange human. Human that Bill could get on his side. Be charming. He tried to remember how to be charming. He offered a feeble smile. "Yello?"

"I wanted to make sure you're all right," Tate said. "You look like you, uh... you've had a hard time."

Bill laughed ruefully. "Well, I've been dragged all over the mountain, I'm hungry, exhausted, and half-drowned, and I can barely walk—but I'm not currently dead. Allegedly. I'll take what I can get."

The corners of Tate's mouth twitched down in a concerned frown. "Is there anything you need? A..." He floundered for a moment, "A water, or...?"

"I've had enough water to last me a lifetime." He wondered idly whether he could claim he was too exhausted to make it all the way home—there was a sofa in the staff room, Tate would probably let the poor bedraggled "woman" take a nap, if Bill got that bit of distance between himself and the Pines maybe he could... maybe he could... do something with it? But he couldn't think of anything more definite than that and now Ford was coming back and the window of opportunity closed. He shrugged wearily. "Just need to get back to the shack. Thanks." He half heartedly used the lake water to wash the drying mud off his lower legs and knees.

"Stan will be here in about twenty minutes," Ford said, and tried to ignore the dirty look Tate gave him. 

"I'll be just inside if you need anything else," Tate said. "Watching." He headed inside—and then, indeed, stood at the shop window and watched.

Ford was never going to get on Tate's good side. He suspected Tate would be a little less sympathetic to the poor woman on the pier if he knew who he really was; but it certainly wouldn't make Tate like Ford any better for keeping him around.

"Nothing to do now but wait." Ford unloaded the rest of their supplies from the borrowed motor boat. He dropped Soos's Monster-Mon backpack beside Bill—it was heavy, Bill must have just shoved his clothes and bedsheet straight in without bothering to wring out the water—and the plastic bag of snacks Dipper had bought. "You ought to eat more while we wait." Ford nudged the snack bag.

Bill sneered at it. "I don't want that trash."

"What?" Ford examined the bag's contents. Jerky, chips, candy, cups of marshmallow cereal... "This is ninety percent of what you eat."

"Ninety percent of what I eat is what I can scavenge from the counters."

Ford looked through the bag again. Ah. Right. So it was. "If you want something else, you know you can ask us to..."

"Mac and cheese."

Maybe Ford had better stop talking. He sighed and glanced at Dipper to see how he was doing.

It didn't look like Dipper had even registered Ford's return, too busy pacing and muttering to himself. Ford frowned. "Dipper?"

"Axolotl," Bill explained. "He's obsessing over him. Didn't I tell you that meeting that thing would drive him insane?" He tilted his head toward Dipper. "Look at that, he's already mumbling to himself. Don't suppose you have his therapist's number, do you? I doubt that would save him, but it might slow the process—"

Ford shushed him.

Dipper had briefly tuned back into the conversation when he heard Bill say Axolotl; and now he grit his teeth and stubbornly tuned it back out. No. He was not going insane. Dipper would figure this out. If he just remembered the rest he'd be fine. He tried to go through all the potential rhymes alphabetically, "—bees, cease, d—deez?" That wasn't a word. "Fees, geese, he's..." and on and on, "seas, tees, uh... vees? Wheeze..."

"I've had enough of you trying to convince that boy he's about to go mad," Ford muttered to Bill. "What do you get out saying that? Even if you do convince him he's insane, it won't make him start trusting anything else you say."

"I'm not lying," Bill said heatedly. "You ought to know that, you've been in the multiverse, you've seen plenty of maddening sights. You saw them before you even left the Nightmare Realm."

Ford hesitated before responding; was Bill trying to persuade Ford he was insane? But he could still remember those first few moments of terror in the Nightmare Realm: the creatures that had seemed to move and shift in impossible ways as they swam in and out of dimensions Ford couldn't see, the lights and colors that throbbed like an inverted migraine, Bill himself seemingly suspended a million light years away and a foot in front of Ford's face at the same time. Until Ford had latched onto his quest to destroy Bill and let that focus him, his mind had felt like an unraveling sock. "You were chief among those maddening sights."

"I was," Bill acknowledged neutrally.

"But I didn't go insane."

"Because you knew when to look away." He cast a sideways glance at Dipper, an implicit unlike him. "I know you used to read cosmic horror. Do you know why the narrator always goes mad just from looking at some giant beast? It's not because it's too ugly to take. It's because once you meet something, you try to understand it; but if you want to understand the reality something like that comes from," he rolled an eye up toward where the invisible Axolotl had hung in the sky, "you have to lose your understanding of your own reality. They're incompatible. Like the lunatics who escaped Plato's cave and came back ranting about nonsense like sunlight and colors."

It was a twisted interpretation of the cave allegory. Plato had meant it as a metaphor for education: that learning about the true nature of reality was enlightening, but alienated you from your peers.

Perhaps to Bill, enlightenment and insanity were the same thing.

Ford murmured, "Once your eyes have been too dazzled by the sunlight to see the dim shadows, you'll never be awed by a candle again."

"You have been there before."

Ford didn't answer.

"Once you've seen something like that, if you let yourself dwell on the significance of it all, you're doomed. Better to tell yourself it's unimportant and try to forget it ever happened."

Ford thought of Fiddleford.

Bill twisted around to snap tiredly at Dipper, "So stop staring at the sun before you go blind, moron."

"Shut up." Dipper had been trying to mentally drown out Bill's dire predictions by grasping for more rhymes—"disease, unease, Socrates"—but enough filtered through to make his stomach churn with nervousness. What if Bill was right? What if he never remembered what the Axolotl told him—what if he drove himself mad trying? What if this turned into a lifelong obsession—but he'd be fine and could let it go once he remembered—was that the trap? Was whatever it had told him impossible for a human to remember? Was it something so incomprehensible a human couldn't remember it without going crazy?

But he'd seen plenty of stuff last summer that was supposed to make humans go "insane." Bill had to be messing with him. He remembered the first line—surely that meant he could remember the rest—but was that part of the trap? "'Sixty degrees that come in threes'... come on, there's something else, I know it, what is it? 'Sixty degrees that come in threes'—"

Bill sighed irritably. "'Watches through the eyes in trees.'"

Dipper stopped pacing. He hadn't realized he'd raised his voice enough to be audible. "What?"

"What?" Bill said.

"What's the rest of it?"

"What rest of it? It's a couplet. That's all," Bill said. "Is that what he told you? He gets rhymey when he feels self-important, it's no big deal. Maybe you're lucky. Put it out of your head and you'll be fine."

Dipper turned the words over in his head. Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches through the eyes in trees... "That's not exactly right," he said slowly. "It was 'watches from within birch trees.'"

"Is that how he translated it? I've never heard it in English before. I got close, though, I knew it'd rhyme."

Ford echoed, "'Sixty degrees that come in threes.' Like a triangle?"

Dipper gave him a perplexed look. "What?"

"You're taking geometry next year, aren't you? The inner angles of polygons always have the same number of degrees; and a triangle has a hundred and eighty degrees. Three angles of sixty degrees forms... an equilateral triangle."

Dipper and Ford stared at Bill.

Bill gave them a tired, unreadable look. "What?" he said. "Don't look at me. I'm not the only equilateral triangle in the universe."

Well, now Dipper was sure there was more to the poem than just a couplet. "How many other equilateral triangles spy on people through birch trees?"

"Lay off," Bill said crabbily. "I didn't have to tell you that line. Don't make me regret it." He planted his elbows on his knees, laced his hands together, pressed his forehead to them, and massaged his eyelids with his thumbs.

He tilted slightly to the right, keeping the weight of his head off his left arm.

####

"Nice shirt," Stan said, eyeing Ford's anger management t-shirt.

"If you like it, you can have it."

"What happened to your coat?"

"Somewhere at the bottom of the lake," Ford sighed.

"How...?"

"I'll fill you in later."

Bill's trembling was almost unnoticeable by the time Stan arrived. Or, at least, it was slight enough that he could stand and make the short walk from the pier to the car without an obvious struggle. 

He climbed into the back seat, slid across the bench, leaned against the door, wrapped his arms around his Monster-Mon backpack, fell asleep, and didn't wake up for the entire drive home.

Dipper and Ford fell silent when they noticed; and, sensing the heavy atmosphere, Stan followed suit.

####

The event organizers for Higher Dimensional Gate had arranged for the Magister Mentium's audience to surround him in a circle with as large a circumference as possible, so that as many shapes as possible could pack into the first few rows where they could see him. Even so, the crowd was much too large for everyone to be in the first few rows. Speakers had to be planted throughout the crowd so that they'd all be able to hear the Magister speak. Most of his audience couldn't see him.

But he, with his all-seeing eye, could see all of them.

The crowd extended back, row after row after row, in every direction like flecks of multicolor confetti filling the air all the way to the horizon. He'd never spoken to such a large crowd before. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a large crowd before.

Not all of them were his worshipers. He didn't have that many worshipers. The rest were drawn in by his boast—to be the first shape outside of legends to predict an eclipse, over six months ahead of schedule. They were here for a spectacle. He meant to give them one.

If he succeeded, all these spectators would become his worshipers, he was sure of it. If he didn't succeed, he lost everything. The whole nation knew about his bet. He'd be financially ruined. His worshipers would abandon him. There would be no fleeing to a new town and starting over; everyone everywhere knew who he was. His life would be over.

This would be only the third eclipse he could recall. There's no way to neatly map shape ages onto human ages. Different year lengths, different aging speeds, different mental and physical milestones. But approximately, compared to a human, he was scarcely over fifteen years old. 

But he wouldn't fail. He pushed all his fears aside. He didn't even want to think about them. He wouldn't, because he couldn't, because he could see what nobody else saw. He could see the eclipse's approach.

It was traveling across the vast empty gulf outside the world.

The only other third dimensional objects he'd ever seen were the sun—which looked to him like a circle—and the stars—which seemed to be mere points. He assumed all third dimensional objects were fundamentally just second dimensional objects, moving on a strange plane. He had no capacity to model a 3D object in his mind.

But the eclipse was a beast that twirled and gyrated around impossible axes, moving and rotating in ways his eye couldn't even comprehend. To him, it looked as though the living creature—he assumed it was a living creature, sometimes it manifested a couple of limbs or an eye—was constantly shapeshifting, its perimeter moving and altering. Its uncanny undulations had haunted his nightmares for months after he first watched it, so young he'd barely started school. It wasn't any less nightmarish now.

But as incomprehensible and terrifying as it was, he could see it, and nobody else here could, and that was all that mattered. He could watch it on the horizon and publicly announce that it would cross the sun in two weeks—and then in about three days—and then, to his humiliation, not tomorrow but today, guaranteed, as the creature sped up and threw off his estimate. His worshipers and bemused spectators had taken over the square to while away the time. They'd quickly gathered around him to wait after he'd declared it would arrive within the hour

That had been almost an hour and a half ago. The stupid thing had slowed down.

The triangle was terrified.

In every direction, shapes were staring at him. Waiting. His father was watching him—his stare seemed to grow heavier by the minute. He could see reporters in the crowd taking notes.

He had to fight not to pace, not to cringe, not to show any nerves in front of the hundreds of eyes.

Now. It had to be now. It was so close. Please don't let him be wrong. Every cord in his body quivered in terror as he grabbed his microphone and announced: "Lines, bis, tris—quads, quints, and more! My dear students and beloved believers, and my—" he cut off the urge to say something nastier, "—curious visitors, who I hope will join our quest for enlightenment. This is the moment you've been waiting for! The eclipse is upon us! In less than a minute, it will begin!" He had to keep his gaze forward as he spoke, looking at his audience. (His mother had always said the way his eye went white when he was looking at the third dimension unnerved people.) "Soon—you won't have to take all my claims about the third dimension on faith. You'll be able to see for yourself the effect of the third dimension on the plane."

The crowd murmured excitedly. He could see his father relax. He stared up-but-not-north, gnawing nervously on his eyelid until he caught himself. The beast above glowed a warm pink in the light of the nearby sun.

And the stupid thing. Slowed. Again.

He stared in disbelief.

"Sixty seconds," his father whispered, out of range of the microphone.

His stomach flopped. He was dead.

"One minute, fifteen seconds. What's going—?"

He held his microphone away and hissed, "The eclipse decided to zigzag."

"Eclipses can zigzag?"

"Shhh!" He'd already failed. He'd already shown everyone he was wrong. He could hear the murmurs. His eye hurt from staring at the sun and from straining for so long to turn so far upward-not-northward, go faster faster faster—

There! The snout of the eclipse was this close to kissing the perimeter of the sun. He cried triumphantly, "Now!"

The wretched beast did a loop-the-loop around the sun and missed it entirely.

The triangle felt the last strands of his fraying self-composure snap.

He howled in rage.

He could hear laughs from the crowd. They felt like daggers in his sides.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" He was bellowing into outer space as if he thought it might hear him, "Do your think this is a game?! Is this funny?! Are you trying to humiliate me in front of the whole world!" His father put a hand on his arm; the triangle shoved him away. "Get back here right now! You thick, brainless, blobby, pink, feeler-faced two-eyed freak of nature! GET BACK HERE and LOOK ME IN THE EYE!" He was a lunatic, everyone would know it, their leader raving in a direction no one could actually see about some big pink delusion, what did he care, no one would ever take him seriously again anyway—

And the thing in the sky.

Stopped.

And looped back.

And came closer, and closer, and bigger, and bigger—it just kept getting bigger, how far away had it been before, how large was it, how large was the sun?

He hardly noticed the crowd's gasp as the creature twirled between them and the sun—the light shone through its body, pink with blood—and then out of the way, and then in again, and out—until finally it was so close that its perimeter completely engulfed the sun. He'd taken a field trip to the planet's surface once—an enormous solid mass of stone and crystal. Until now, he'd never seen another solid objects so large. To his limited understanding of 3D objects, it looked as though there were no organs inside its perimeter—just a layer of solid, uninterrupted flesh. He didn't know how it could even move.

It stopped straight over him.

He was sure the two black circles embedded inside its body must be its eyes. His whole life he'd heard psychic powers—psychic powers like his own—described as having an "inner eye." But he'd thought the phrase was just a metaphor. An eye on the inside of a body instead of on its perimeter would be useless to most people. He'd never seen a creature with an eye literally on the inside of its body. But the eclipse had two.

And they were looking at him.

A giant ever-shapeshifting cosmic horror from outside of reality, staring through the veil separating the sane world from outerplanar space, and it was looking—at—him.

He was terrified.

He heard an alien voice in his head, vast and deep and slow as distant whale song:

"Hello there!" It was overjoyed. It was tickled pink. "I've never been spoken to by a shape on the wall before. I didn't know you could see off of it!"

Weakly, the triangle repeated, "'A shape on the'...?"

"Yes, this wall of yours." The eclipse gestured with its tail at—everything. A single sweep that took in an entire dimension. "I've probably commuted past this wall billions of times, and nothing's ever called to me before. I didn't know shadows could do that!"

"'Shadows'?" the triangle echoed again. That was all they were? An eclipse's shadows?

"I'm absolutely delighted," the eclipse said. "First contact from a lower-dimensional species! I've watched you for eons and never imagined. Isn't this exciting! How charming of you! Tell me who you are."

Him? "Me?"

"Of course. Who else?" It stared at him. Only him. A shapeshifting force of nature the size of a planet with two inner eyes, an eclipse that saw him as a shadow—and it was looking only at him.

Weakly, he said, "I'm... the Magister Mentium."

The eclipse thought that over. Its tone was a tad dubious and not terribly impressed (why should it be impressed? he was embarrassed at himself for giving his silly puffed-up title)—but it said, "Yes, I suppose that's true. I am the Axolotl. It's been a pleasure meeting you." It began to shapeshift again—its eyes slid sideways through its body, until one reached its perimeter and disappeared.

It dawned on the triangle, in its first immature understanding of third dimensional objects, that its eye had disappeared because the Axolotl was turning away. "Wait!" he cried. "Why..." Why answer him? Why focused on him so completely, if he was just a shadow? Why ask who he was like he mattered? He didn't even know how to put those questions to words in his own mind, much less out loud. "Why are you here so early?"

The Axolotl turned back to the triangle. "Oh! I had to go back for some documents I forgot at the office. Big case in the morning," it said. "You shadows know my schedule?"

"You... pass in front of the sun."

The Axolotl turned away, eyes disappearing and frills fluttering, to look at the sun. "So I do! How funny." It turned toward the triangle and gave him a strange, grotesque look that—by the tone of its psychic voice—he suspected was a smile. "I must get going. I'll be heading into the office a few hours late tomorrow, but perhaps I'll see you again then." And it turned away. It felt like it took forever for the enormous body to sail over-not-north-of the triangle—and pass, at last, out of the sun's path.

The triangle didn't look down-but-not-south until someone shook his side—his father. He lowered his dazed gaze to the crowd—the cheering, applauding crowd. Ma-gi-ster, Ma-gi-ster. A sea of multicolor confetti shapes that filled the air to the horizon.

Shadows.

His father shook him again—"Go on, say something. They're waiting"—and the triangle held up his mic as though he were in a dream. He tried to remember what he was supposed to say. "I was right," he said flatly. "Just like I always told you. I can see the third dimension. The realm of dreams—of colors, of light, and..." The lies left a sick taste in the back of his eye. He couldn't say them. Points of light in darkness and pink nightmares.

"I'm s— You'll all have to excuse me," he said, his voice childish and small. "I can't—I've had a... a... profound... spiritual experience. I must meditate on the revelations I've received." The words felt like woo-woo mumbo-jumbo. "The next eclipse will be a few months after the new year." It seemed important, for some reason, to pass that information on. Wasn't that what he always said he did? Share the wisdom of third dimensional spirits with his followers? "I... have to go now."

His father took his elbow. "This is your moment," he whispered. "Come on, son—you don't want to lose your chance to speak directly to them, do you?"

He shoved the microphone in his father's side. "You speak to them."

"But—"

"I can't," he said. "I can't."

He cut through the crowd as fast as it would part for him—if they were any slower, he'd have started stabbing his way through—haunted the whole way by their applause.

####

And that was it.

From the Axolotl's perspective, he had just had a brief pleasant exchange with a precocious tadpole in a sidewalk puddle.

From the triangle's perspective, he might as well have been standing on the boat deck watching as Cthulhu rose from his millennia of dead slumber at the bottom of the ocean, turned to the fragile vessel bobbing on the waves, and said, "Good morning! Glorious weather we're having, isn't it?"

And from the perspective of the Higher Dimensional Gate, their Magister Mentium had predicted an eclipse, been rightfully insulted when it didn't come the exact second he ordered it, and furiously summoned down an eclipse darker and swifter and longer than any in recorded history.

Up until then, he had been seen as, at best, an oracle. A prophet. A messenger to share the secrets of the third dimension, but that was all he could do. But now, he had commanded forces in an unseen dimension, creating an eclipse months before it was natural. He had made it flicker on and off like he had his finger on the sun's light switch. News reports and the most unimpeachable scientific authorities reported that the eclipse had centered on the location of the Higher Dimensional Gate rally, narrowed down to an inexplicably small radius around that point, and then remained unchanged for several long minutes, long enough for anyone in its shadow to grow fatigued from the missing sunshine. Nothing like that had ever happened before. It defied every known fact about the science of eclipses.

People around the gathering—even people who had known nothing about the Higher Dimensional Gate rally—reported that during the eclipse, they'd become inexplicably disoriented, unable to tell compass directions, and had felt themselves fall toward the darkness—as if gravity's pull had suddenly moved from the south to the epicenter of the eclipse. Public building inspections confirmed that somehow the entire town had shifted, ever so slightly, closer to the epicenter. Closer to the Magister.

Never mind prophecy; as far as the Magister's rapidly-increasing followers were concerned, he might have been a god.

It was the greatest triumph a baby cult leader could ask for.

He barely noticed.

####

For days, he could hardly sleep, speak, or think. He kept losing track of conversations to stare into space. Now, it awed his followers when his eye turned an empty white—he must have been communing with something in a higher dimension.

He didn't argue. It was better than letting them know he was losing his mind.

He spent his time alone locked in his room, pacing back and forth, trying not to look up-but-not-north and failing. Dwelling on the significance of it all. Feeling like he'd never figure it out.

He used to love cosmic horror stories, back when he had time to read. They followed a reliable pattern: the hero travels farther than any rational shape ever should, meets something big, and goes mad from the realization.

And what was it that the hero always realized? That he was a dust fleck in the firmament. That he was insignificant. That he didn't matter. That there were things out there he'd never seen before and would never truly understand, and that they cared not for mere shadows on the wall like him, and that in the grand scheme of the cosmos he was nothing. That he was utterly unimportant.

In moments of what felt like lucidity in between the shivering horror, the triangle  wryly acknowledged that it was no surprise he'd ended up in a cosmic horror story. He could see into another dimension. In the stories he'd read, that made it all but inevitable.

But all the authors had gotten the maddening revelation wrong. He could have handled knowing he was nothing. It almost would have been a relief. 

True horror was knowing he mattered.

He'd spent the majority of his young life selling the idea that he was oh-so-important, as part of a big con to trick gullible idiots into liking him and flinging cash at his rotten undeserving family—and he'd only been able to do it because when the guilt got to him, when his conscience asked what would become of the shapes forking over their life savings on false promises of divine secrets, he could look out into bleak black space and tell himself that nothing really mattered, nothing was important, nothing he'd ever do would really make a difference, and the people he manipulated didn't matter any more than he did. He meant everything to his worshipers, and nothing to the universe. He could do anything and it didn't matter.

For a moment, a vast mind-melting shape-shifting incomprehensible eldritch god had focused its full attention on him—of all the universe, of all the dimensions beyond the known universe, it had looked at him and only him—a mere shadow on the wall, and yet in that moment, it found him interesting. It found him worthy of notice. He had screamed into the cold uncaring void, and the void had cared. For a moment, he'd held cosmic importance. He mattered. His actions mattered.

He'd felt it see him as important, but why? What was so important about him? There had to have been something significant he'd done, something he showed it, something in what he said. He replayed their conversation in his mind over and over and over and over, trying to remember what he'd done that proved he mattered.

He didn't know what it was. He couldn't find it. All he could remember was just... being.

The writers were wrong. Cosmic horror wasn't when an elder god's eyes slid past you without noticing you existed. It was when the elder god gazed down at you at your lowest and bleakest, during your most petty and selfish act of mass swindling, from a dimension where not even slamming the door and shutting your eye could shield you from its gaze—and it decided you were worth caring about. Cosmic horror was when you encountered a colossal alien that planted the incomprehensibly alien idea in your head that you had an inherent worth just because you existed. Cosmic horror was when a force of nature asked the name of a shadow on the wall.

If it was true... if it all mattered... then what was he doing? How could he? What had he done?

####

He was lucky—he was lucky that his parents had raised him to think so clearly about issues like morality and money and easy marks. His only saving grace was that he was too rational to seriously entertain the Axolotl's mad ideas.

And yet, his mind boiled with mad regret. It blazed with insane guilt. The heat of it could burn him out. It was months before he could continue his public sermons without feeling sick—and even once he did, he could still feel the delusion that what he did mattered, festering in his mind.

It would fester for the next trillion years.

####

(And that concludes this plot arc! I hope y'all enjoyed it!! I'd love to hear what y'all thought of the whole thing—especially now that we've looped back to the original eclipse. 😁)

#bill cipher #the axolotl #(for the art) #human bill cipher #(for the fic) #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[eggyrocks]

hii can you write #82 & Atsumu?? but make it silly pls!!

YES I CERTAINLY CAN

500 follower special: #82 “This is all your fault! I can’t believe I listened to you!”

atsumu x gn reader, domestic fluff, established relationship, goofy nonsense, UNREALISTIC BAKING, not proofread

Atsumu always talks so confidently. Everything he says is so convincing, without him even really trying. And maybe, after dating him for all of these years, they should know better than to just blindly listen to whatever it is he says.

But sometimes they can't help. Loving him makes them stupid.

It was just supposed to be a simple cake. Nothing complicated. Nothing too intense. Just one, extraordinarily plain cake. It looked fine before they put it in the oven, the batter the right color and consistency, at the very least.

But now, it is erupted, the glass pan completely shattered on the inside of their still very hot oven, and cake completely massacred. Smoke pours from their kitchen as Atsumu rushes to open every possible window they have.

They're standing on a chair, using the end of a broom to try and silence their smoke detector. And it does occur to them that maybe it would be a bit more effective if their current roles were reversed, given their height difference. But Atsumu is flinging opening their living room window and tripping over himself to get to their bedroom window, and they're already standing on the tips of their toes, cursing their high ceilings. No point in thinking rationally now.

The tip of the broom finally slams into the smoke detector in the right spot, and the loud, incessant beeping stops. "Fucking finally!" Atsumu calls from the bedroom.

"Get something we can use to fan the smoke out the window!" they call, leaping off the chair, eyes almost watering from the smoke in the air.

And that is how they both end up whipping broken down cardboard boxes, trying to dissipate the smoke that still emits from the oven, both of them desperate to avoid a visit from the fire department.

"This is all your fault, y'know!" they call to their boyfriend, arms exhausted from all the fanning at this point. "I can't believe I listened to you!"

Atsumu scoffs, indignant. "All I did was read ya off my gran's recipe. Are ya sayin' this is her fault?"

Their eyes narrow. "You goddamn liar. I saw you look up the recipe on goddamn Sally's Baking Addiction. Is your grandmother Sally? And either way, the recipe didn't say to bake it at five-hundred-goddamn-degrees!"

Immediately, he drops the facade, and gives them a sheepish sort of grin. "Alright. I'm caught."

They continue fanning, the smoke starting to gradually thin out again. "I need to stop trusting you so much. You are a habitual liar."

"I wasn't lyin'!" Atsumu insists. "I really did think if ya doubled the temperature, it'd bake it in half the time."

They sigh. They can't be mad at him, since they didn't even doubt him for a second when he originally said it. All they could think of was the excited look in his eyes, and how eager he seemed. It distracted them.

"Ugh," they ground, arms sore and dropping by their side. "You're too pretty to be this wrong about so many things."

At the slightest bit of praise from his partner, Atsumu abandons his makeshift cardboard fan and smirks, light in his eyes shifting. "Pretty, huh? Ya tryin' seduce me?"

They can't help but roll their eyes, and the smirk on his face once they say, "Maybe after you clean all the broken hot glass out of the oven."

an: i know that this is not realistic but let's just pretend for the sake of the silly little fanficition ok. also i didnt know how to end this lol

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq x you #hq #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu fluff #atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya x y/n

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

A picture-Perfect Hello.

Spencer Reid picture-perfect.

Spencer Reid had no idea when he came home from a long case that his new neighbor would be the love of his life. And together they would create the picture-perfect life.

A four-part series.

Warning Contains spoilers for Season 13 as well as Season 12. Post prison Spencer Reid.

Ages 18 and over. Contains oral sex. Penetrative sex. Reader on birth control pills.

Spencer came home from a long case. A six Day one to be exact. He was surprised to see a pile of boxes sitting in the hallway in front of an apartment building that he assumed was still to be empty when he came back home. It's not that he didn't want new neighbors. He just didn't expect there to be any, given that that apartment has been vacant for the past seven months.

he was So exhausted from the trip back home that he really just wanted to go to sleep. But he knows that that would be rude not to even try to offer Any help to his new neighbor. So he unlocked his door and put his satchel inside. Going over to the refrigerator to grab something to drink, leaving the front door open So he could see if the new neighbor passed by. After a few minutes, he decided to shut the front door and go stand out in the hall. He made it to the front of his sofa before he saw a pile of boxes walking by his door.

"Oh, here, let me help you" he said, running out of his door.

" Oh my gosh, thank you so much that this so kind of you." He heard a woman's voice coming from behind the pile of boxes.

" Sure, no problem. Let me just grab these" he said, pulling two boxes off the top of the pile.

Spencer couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the woman that was behind the box. a Brunette with Short hair. And blue eyes.

" Hello" he managed to get out. " My name is Spencer, Spencer Reid. I live in this apartment right here". He told her, using his thumb to point back at the door.

" Hello my name is y/n It's so nice to meet you. I didn't know if anybody lived in this apartment. I've been moving in for the past two days and I haven't seen you."

" I was at work. I.. I'm, I'm an FBI agent, so I wasn't home for six days."

" Ohh wow. An FBI agent? That must be really exciting."

" It can be. It has its moments that it's exciting. Yes, I, you know, I I definitely enjoy the work that I do, putting away the bad guys and all that. Definitely rewarding, yes. Kind of tiring though as well if I'm being honest. But still, it's.. it's really nice work." Spencer began to ramble.

" Would you like to come in and put those boxes down?"

" Boxes? Ohh yes yes. But I would love to put the boxes down" Spencer answered, not even realizing anymore that he was holding boxes.

" Just try to find a place to put them down at. I'm sorry I haven't really officially moved in yet. I'm staying with a friend of mine while I get everything out of my dirtbag ex boyfriend's apartment." She explained to Spencer she was waving her finger around the room with her other hand on her hip.

"Oh, sure, no problem. It it's going to take some time to move in. I'm sorry about your boyfriend."

" Oh, don't be. He was a lousy piece of crap that wasn't even any good in bed. I mean, it is seriously Exhausting having to fake orgasms all the time. It would have been nice if I could have had a real one during the two years we were together." She huffed out angrily.

Spencer's face must have lost all color or the opposite turned as red as a strawberry when she was saying this. As she stopped right in her tracks and they started apologizing.

" Oh my God, I am so sorry. I don't know why I said that. I mean, I just met you like what, 5 minutes ago if that. And here I am already talking like this. Please forgive me. I understand if you don't want to help me bring in any more boxes and if you want to pretend that I don't even live here, I completely understand. Have a tendency to over share my feelings when I'm angry and Needless to say, I'm angry."

" no need to apologize. I understand you being angry and you know, I hear a lot of stuff being an FBI agent. Plus I do have three women on our team, so, you know, I I hear things."

"Wow. Three women on your team. That's impressive. I just assumed that the FBI thought that that was men's work. You know? Good to see that we're making a little progress in the world."

" Ohh no. The FBI is full of women. You really have made a lot of progress in the work world. You know, it's been statistically proven that women are more effective at catching serial killers than men in some cases." He Explained to her.

" Really? well. I guess if you piss us off enough, we'll hunt you down."

" I guess you could say that, yes. Uh, there's three agents that I work with that are women. And then there's our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. She's wonderful as well."

" Well, that's good. Got to get rid of those bad guys, right? And bad ladies, I'm sure as well."

"Yep" He said, rocking back and forth from his toes to his heels. Kind of uncomfortable now that the conversation has ended.

" So do you have more boxes you need me to help you bring in or?" He asked, waving his hands around nervously.

" Yes, I do. I have five more boxes out in the car."

" OK, well here let me help you with that."

"So does you being an agent mean that I'm not going to see you much? Because that would be really sad. I think you're really cute. And you obviously are smart."

"OH no. I'm home when I can be most of the time. And if I'm not home or out on a case, I spent a lot of time on a jet too. You know, going to the crime scenes. It's a lot easier for me when it's local because then I get to come back home. It gets a little tiring having to be in hotels all the time. Sometimes it's really nice to just come home to the comfort of your own apartment and bed, you know?"

"It is."

After Spencer helped her bring in the rest of her boxes, she went over to a box marked kitchen and pulled out a coffee pot.

" Would you like some coffee? I love coffee and I can't live without it." Asked, holding up her pink coffee maker.

" Really. I love coffee too. Yes, I.. I.. I would love some. My friends always put me down. Well, my my coworkers. But they're like my friends. Actually. They're like my family. They make fun of me sometimes for loving coffee so much."

" Why would they Make fun of you for that?. Oh well. Between you and me, we could probably empty out the entire state of coffee beans."

" Yeah, we probably could." He said with a big grin on his face.

" So how long have you lived here?" She asked him.

" 14 years."

"Wow, 14 years. That's amazing. Must be really nice here. Well, for the amount of time that you hear, I guess you couldn't really judge."

" Well, I've been here long enough, yeah, to know that. That's. It really is nice. Yeah, but you're right, the amount of time that I'm actually here for. Really can't judge, but sometimes I am here for a week at a time."

She walks into the kitchen and plugs in the coffee pot.

" I know exactly where my coffee beans are. They're in that box over there marked coffee."

" Spencer Looks over at the box. "Ohh here let me get it for you."

" Thank you. You're such a gentleman. I mean, not only helping me move in, but also helping me make coffee. You'll find mugs in that same box, by the way."

When Spencer opens the box, he sees 5 bags of coffee and seven mugs.

" Ohh wow my friend Penelope. She would love your mugs. She's the queen of coffee mugs. Although in her case sometimes it's also hot tea, so mugs in general."

" I think I'd really get along with this, Penelope."

" She is wonderful." Spencer tells her where the chuckle.

Spencer hands her a bag of coffee, a pack of coffee filters and two mugs. A pink mug with a rainbow on it and a black mug that says I love coffee.

" I think this will be my favorite mug" he told her, holding up the one that says I love coffee.

" Well then, we will make that your special mug for when you come over, and that is if you want to ever come back."

" I want to come back. I I look forward to it."

Spencer Reid being a man of science, never really believed in love at first sight. But there's something about her he feels that he could spend the rest of his life with, even though he's only known her for about an hour tops at this point.

"You know, if you come back tomorrow, I have been known to make some pretty good muffins. By then I should be able to find my baking stuff. But that is only if you would like to. I understand. If you don't want to, it's. Completely understandable."

" No, not at all. I would love to come over. Muffins sound really good. Muffins and coffee? That's. That's really good. Yeah." He said with a chuckle, so happy that she would like for him to come back.

" OK then uh 8:00 be OK?"

" That'd be great. I don't start teaching until 10:00, so. 8:00 would be good."

" I thought you were an FBI agent".

"Ohh. Well, yeah, I ...I am. I am an FBI agent. But I also teach sometimes because I'm not Fully on the team at the moment, but that's a that's a long story for. Another time so". Spencer said nervously. What was she going to think if she asked him why he wasn't on the team full time? What if she doesn't like that he was in prison even though he didn't really commit the crime he was arrested for?

" OK, well, another time it is."

" So I can be here at 8:00." Spencer asked, wringing his hands.

" Unless 7:30 would be better for you."

" 7:30 would be great. That would be great. That would give me half hour more to be able to get ready to go and teach my class."

" OK, 7:30 it is. I should already be started by the muffins, by then"

" Great" Spencer said.

" Do you take your coffee?"

"Black with sugar." Spencer answered, placing the two Mugs next to the coffee maker that was just about done.

" Black with sugar, You got it."

There was a little bit of awkward silence as the coffee finished brewing. Before y/n Poured 2 mugs of it, adding the sugar into both mugs and going over to the refrigerator to get some Creamer.

" I know it's strange. I already have Creamer in my refrigerator, but says I said I've been moving in for a few days, so I don't really know why I have Creamer in my refrigerator. Didn't even have my coffee maker yet, but I'm a weird one. "

" Not at all. " Spencer said.

After the coffees had been made, the two of them sat down at her little kitchen table.

" You know, this table was actually left behind from the previous renter. I don't know why, but hey, I was happy to have it. " y/n said.

" Yes, well left behind furniture is always good. Unfortunately, nothing came with my apartment. "

" Wow. Usually somebody leaves something behind. " she says taking a sip of coffee.

" So can I ask what you do? Or do you not have a job yet in between jobs?"

" Ohh yes, I'm a Blogger."

" Spencer said, not really knowing what that was.

"Do you know what that is?" She asked him. Putting down her mug.

"No, not really. I'm sorry."

"No problem. I have a blog. It's a computer thing. It's on the Internet. It's a page Where I show you how to do things like highlight your hair and things I used to do. I also show a lot of cooking things, like how to make the muffins I'm going to make tomorrow, along with other things that I make."

" Oh, so you teach people how to do things via the Internet?"

" Yes, exactly."

" Ohh like life's important things like faking orgasms." He said with a chuckle as he took his first sip of coffee.

y/n Almost spit her coffee out at his response.

" Yes, exactly. I I really did do one of those. It was my most popular video to date, actually." She told him, laughing.

" Well, at least you're helping people with the important things in the world. Ohh my gosh, I'm so sorry. I really need to be getting to work. Umm, so I can come back tomorrow, right?"

"Absolutely. I look forward to it."

After Spencer went to teach another class, knowing that people really weren't going to be paying him any attention anyway. He was just kind of going through the motions. His mind, even though he was trying to teach about serial killers, just kept going back to His beautiful new neighbor and how he couldn't wait to get back to her apartment tomorrow.

Once class was over and he stopped at the grocery store to pick up something for him to eat for dinner. He went back home. He was so tempted to knock on his neighbor's door to see how she was doing. Or really just to see her face again. To ask her if she would like to come over and share his dinner, but he didn't want to be too forward, she said. I'll see you tomorrow morning, so tomorrow morning it would be.

He ate his dinner, took his shower, got in his pajamas, brushed his teeth and went to bed. Unfortunately though, for Spencer, sleep did not come easily to him. He just kept thinking about the beautiful woman next door. But was she doing? Was she sleeping? Was she lying awake, thinking about him, The way he was laying awake? Thinking about her?

He really needs to stop these Thoughts that are running through his head and try to get some sleep morning would come soon enough and he would be at her front door again, tapping on the wood, waiting to get inside.

Eventually, morning came and he did just the thing that he said he was going to do, ran out his front door before smoothening out any wrinkles that may be on his sweater. Before knocking lightly on her wooden front door.

" I'm coming, he heard being shouted from The other side of the door. He waited for a few seconds before he heard the deadbolt on lock the door opening, revealing the woman that he's awaiting all night to see. Wearing a light pink tank top and a purple apron. That had some baking flour stuck to it.

In all honesty, she was so beautiful and the fact that she was making muffins for him, it took all he had not to drop to one knee right now and ask her to marry him. It wasn't just because she would serve him muffins. It was because no one was willing to make anything like this for Spencer and his entire life. And even though he had only met this woman one day prior, he knew he was in love with her. He knew that this was the woman that he was destined to spend the rest of his life with.

" Hi, come on in. I'm so sorry I had to run to the store. So I'm a little bit later making the muffins and I thought I was going to be. I didn't have any flower. I forgot that I threw it at my ex when he told me that he didn't need my cooking anymore. It was juvenile, I know. But it was in the heat of the moment. So I just threw it at him."

" Oh, wow. OK, no problem. Take your time. If if you don't have the time to make the muffins right now, it's OK. I can come back tomorrow."

" Ohh no no, she cut him off. I have the flour, I'm just measuring it out now."

"OK, sure, can I help you make the muffins? I've never really baked anything before."

" Really. You would like to help me make muffins? OH my gosh yes. Thank you so much. I would love for you to do that. You know my boyfriend Will, my ex sorry-ass boyfriend never would have offered to help cook with me. He thought that cooking and baking was stupid and that it was just. Useless hobby."

" Well, that's not nice. Baking is a wonderful hobby. Cooking. We all need to eat to survive, right? So he didn't have any right to pick on you for that. I'm so sorry that he was like that to you. I promise I will never be that way to you. I mean, not that we're a couple. You know, I'm not presuming that you would want to be in a relationship with me. I'm just saying if it should ever come to that, I wouldn't be that kind of boyfriend. I'd be loving and supportive and help you with anything that you wanted." He began rambling.

" That would be wonderful, you know, if we ended up being together and cooked together, married one day. Just think. We would tell our children how we met and they would think it was so sweet."

Now Spencer's mind was really racing again. She's considering a life with him. She's actually thinking about a life with him and having children with him and telling them about how they met one day.

" Spencer?" He heard her saying.

"yes?" he answered.

" Would you like to come into the kitchen and help me?"

"Oh, Oh my gosh. Yes, yes, I would love to. OK, umm, So what do you need me to do?"

" Well, unfortunately I don't have a spare apron. And if you're planning on wearing this Sweater. You may not want to mess with the flour, but you can wash off the blueberries for me.

"Oh yes, of course." Spencer said, opening up the pints of blueberries and pouring them into a pink strainer to wash them off.

" I'm so sorry that you have to wait longer for the muffins because I forgot to get flour.

" It's OK. I'm actually happy that it happened because now I get to be a part of the muffin making process." Her as he finished straining the rest of the water off of the blueberries.

" That's so sweet, you can take and dump them into the bowl right there with the sugar."

The two of them stood side-by-side preparing muffin batter.

Before placing the batter into baking cups and putting them in the oven. y/n Pouring some coffee for them while they wait.

" So how did you sleep last night?" She asked, putting the two mugs of coffee down.

How did I sleep? OH my gosh how can I tell her that I couldn't sleep? Because all I could think about was her. How much I wanted to come back over here and see her. How I know she's the love of my life. How can I tell her that without her thinking that I'm crazy? Spencer thought to himself.

" I slept rather well, thank you." He told her he feels so bad about lying to her, but how can he tell her about his true feelings without scaring her away?

Once the muffins were done and they started eating them, it was the most delicious blueberry muffin Spencer had ever had.

" These are incredible" he told her before stuffing and other piece into his mouth.

" Thank you so much. I'm so glad that you like them. You know, I also make coffee cakes and strudels and stuff like that, so, you know, I could keep feeding you if you're interested."

If Spencer could have his way, he would make breakfast with her every day for the rest of his life.

" I would like that. he told her with a smile.

The next two weeks went on like this, meeting every day. Went to teach, unfortunately his teacher. Come to an end and he was forced to go back to the station.

" I'm back on FBI time now, so I may be gone for a little while. I'll let you know if I have a case. That way you don't start making something for me and I'm not here to get it." Told her, looking down at his thumbs that he was twiddling.

" OK, well, I'm going to miss you if you have a case, but I have a lot of muffins leftover. Would your team like some?" She asked him.

" I I think they would, yes, they're amazing. And if they don't want them, well, I'll gladly eat them."

" OK, great. I'll pack some up for you."

Spencer reluctantly left her apartment to go to the station, carrying with him a large basket of blueberry muffins. They placed them on the table of the round table room.

Luke came into the room and saw the basket of muffins along with Spencer sitting in his usual chair.

" Hey, welcome back Reid" Luke said to him.

" Hey, Luke. Thanks. It's nice to be back."

" Muffins. Are those for anybody or are they just for you?" Luke asked.

" There For anyone. My new neighbor Likes to bake, so she sent me to work with some muffins for you guys."

" She Ohh. I'm I'm not prying just is she someone that You might be interested in. I'm. I'm not meaning to pry. I just. I worry about you. You know, you go back to your apartment all by yourself and you don't really get any visitors. It would just be nice for you to have someone."

" I really like her, Luke. I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know how to tell her. You know, I know that I'm the age that I am, but I don't have much experience with women. The only girlfriend long term that I really had got murdered in front of me. So I don't know how to talk to women." Spencer said sadly.

" Well reid. I can honestly tell you if a woman is willing to make you muffin's. And allow you into her apartment, I'm assuming."

" She did. I helped her move in."

" Then yes, she likes you." Luke told him before taking a bite of muffin.

" Really?" Spencer asked.

" Yes, really. And if she makes muffins like this my God man, go back home now and ask her to marry you. These are delicious."

Unfortunately for Spencer, he was going to have to wait to see his ladylove again. he had to go away on a case. The next three months' time continued to go this way. He would be home for a day or two enjoying the baked Goods with Her before having to go away on another case. They really didn't get to spend much time together anymore. They were both afraid that the feelings that they had for each other would fizzle away. But maybe, just maybe, people were right. Time apart does make the heart grow fonder. It left them both wondering though. Feel this way about each other. They're just neighbors, and they've never even kissed. Just enjoying talking about things over coffee and baked goods that Spencer often helped make. He really enjoyed the baking process and the fact that it gave him more time to spend with y/n but all of that changed quickly after Spencer finally had some time off since he was teaching again. So she invited him to come over and watch a movie. That was for the best, considering that Spencer really didn't have any movies that weren't foreign films.

"She picked (your favorite movie) To watch She Thought that Spencer would really enjoy it.

" I can't believe you've never seen this movie. I've seen it about 1000 times and can say just about every line with it". She told him.

" Well, I haven't seen very many movies that aren't in foreign languages, so this will be a fun to experience for me."

That night was a turning point in their relationship. As they sat on the sofa together, they realized neither one of them was really interested in the movie. They were more interested in each other. They've been away from each other for too long, and tonight was the night they were finally going to kiss.

However, Spencer Reid being amazing at everything was also in the world's greatest kisser. We've got turned on so much by the kissing that it wasn't long before Spencer was asking against her lips. "Can we take this to the bedroom?"

y/n Moaned a Yes, against his lips.

If Spencer picked her up off the couch and carried her into her bedroom, he knew exactly where it was. Not because he's been to her apartment so many times, but because the layout of her apartment was exactly the same as his own. Before he knew it, he was peeling off her clothes and kissing her passionately.

Shouldn't she was doing the same to him with the same urgency.

However, before Spencer removed her underwear. He asked if it was OK for him to do so.

y/n Couldn't get the word "yes" out fast enough. As soon as she was bare to him, he looked up into her eyes to make sure that She was OK with what he was about to do.

She panted out a yes before he licked right up her center. Causing her to moan out his name. Something that, if he was being honest with himself, was something that he was dying to hear over the past 3 1/2 months.

He took his time with her, loving the way that her fingers felt running through his hair. After he gave her two mind-blowing orgasms, he couldn't wait anymore. He needed to be inside of her. 

"Do you have any protection?" He asked her, praying to the gods, anyone of them that she would have something. 

"I'm on the pill and I'm clean". She panted out

 the smile on his face, almost taking up his entire face at this point. 

"Good" he panted out. Before slowly pushing inside of her. They both moaned out at the feeling. Something that they were both longing for, for so long. As he slowly moved inside of her, his fingers intertwining with hers.

The only sounds in the apartment at this point was the sounds of their moans and lips smacking.

" Where do you want me?" Spencer asked y/n Feeling that he was close told him.

" Inside, inside Spencer, I want to feel all of you."

And be more thrilled at these words. They both orgasm together and it was like pure heaven.

Spencer helped her ride out her high, and as he did, he couldn't help but stare into her eyes, seeing how beautiful she is.

Spencer eventually had to pull out. So sad for both of them since they both waited for so long. Both of them hoping that it would happen again.

They laid in her bed. Spencer's arms, holding her tightly to his body.

" Are you sorry that it happened?" Spencer asked sadly. As y/n Hasn't said anything since they orgasmed.

" No, not at all. Are you?" She asked with full of worry.

" No, absolutely not. I was worried that you were going to be sorry. I mean, it's been silence for a little bit." Spencer said with a gulp.

" No, I'm so happy that it happened. I waited for so long, you know, Honestly, I wanted you from the very first time I saw you, but I didn't want you to think that I was Trashy." She told him, running her hand up and down his bare chest.

" I would never think that, and honestly, I was the same way about you." Spencer told her with a smile.

"Who would have ever thought that me walking by with a stack of boxes would have led to this? that just a simple hello would have led to where we are today."

" I know. I guess you could say it was a picture-Perfect Hello." Spencer said before kissing her again.

Thank you so much for reading. Comments will be greatly appreciated and I look forward to writing the rest of this story. there should be another chapter out by the summer.

@thebloomingeagle

#spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #dr reid #reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine

[hey-august]

I know I'm pathetic - Pt 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Fic tag)

✨The final part!!✨ I just added a warning for implied sex since I did a last minute adjustment. I hope yall had fun reading this throughout the week! 🩷 And for those who prefer to read everything in one-go, enjoy!!

WC: ~550

Warnings for the entire story: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, dubcon, auralism, masturbation, buggy is a fucking perv, slight degradation kink, implied sex

Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @lostfirefly @ane5e @fanaticsnail

Title from Pathetic by blink-182

“Captain…”

Shit. He definitely didn’t imagine it. This was a problem. Did you know? Were you messing with him? He needed to find out.

Buggy flew out of his room before reigning himself in. There were plenty of people still awake and he didn’t want to drag attention to himself. He strode to the bathroom, unsure what he would do when he got there. What he would say to you. What he would ask.

It didn’t matter though. By the time he got to the bathroom, it was empty. You were gone. All that was left was steam and a message on the mirror.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Was this message really for him? Were you actually waiting for him? Why? Was it a trick? Buggy’s mind was reeling, torn between the fucked up fantasies he’s been indulging in and what little grasp on reality he still had.

An unexpected sensation pulled him from the cyclone of thoughts. A warm breath on his ear. His ear…where was it? It wasn’t in the bathroom anymore.

Lips grazed his missing appendage and he shuddered.

“Captain? Did you find my message yet?”

Buggy's breath stopped in his chest as you whispered directly to him.

“I know your secret,” you teased. “I know what you’ve been doing, you perv. You’re a dirty guy, you know?”

He whimpered.

“Wanna know my secret?”

“Yes,” Buggy gasped to no one.

“I bet you do…my secret is that I like it. I like knowing that you touch yourself to me, captain.”

Buggy’s hand flew to his aching dick. If you liked it, he’d keep doing it.

“You’re probably touching yourself right now, you creep.”

He whimpered again.

“Would you stop if I told you to?”

He stopped.

“Would you screw me if I asked you to? I think I’d like that a lot more.”

Buggy’s legs moved before you finished that question.

“Please don’t keep me waiting too lon-”

You were interrupted by a frantic knocking and a breathless demand to open the fucking door.

---

Your sheets were soaked with sex and sweat by the time you two were drained and exhausted.

Buggy wasn’t sure if he was falling asleep or blacking out. His back was pressed against your chest and you were warm. So very warm.

“How’d you find out?” Buggy mumbled through the edges of sleep.

“Your boots are loud.”

Right. He knew that. He should have known it was a give away.

“I also had your ear on purpose.”

Now he was awake. Before Buggy could roll over, you held him tighter.

“Accidentally on purpose,” you laughed. “I found it earlier that day and put it in my pocket. I forgot and only remembered when I heard you outside my door. By then, it was too late.”

“Too late…”

“Well, I might have stopped if you knocked. But it sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Silence hung in the room as the words sunk in.

“You tricked me into listening to your- your debauchery, just so you could get off!" Buggy’s hands broke free and gestured wildly in the air. “You’re the pervert! You corrupted me,” he huffed offendedly. Provokingly.

“You were always a dirty freak, captain. Don’t be a liar too,” you said against his ear before giving it a small bite.

Buggy groaned softly through the smile on his face. He was a dirty freak. A depraved degenerate. A pathetic pervert. And so were you.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #hey-august i know i'm pathetic

[mikobeautifulheart]

How about JJK Men touching your weak spot, like on ur back or something in public and it makes you jump and them laugh.

IDK what ever you want to write but something like that.

TEHEHE YESSSS

Not edited btw :(

Weak spot

Including: Yuji and Yuta

Yuji

You were standing at the door to Yuji's dorm. He told you earlier that he would be 5 minutes late and that you could just head inside.

Was he sure, could you really just freely walk in? I mean what if he left stuff out that your not meant to see...or if he left his things out and forgot about it.

You reached out to turn the door knob before pushing the door open slowly. Everything was...normal. Clean, neat, nothing out of the ordinary actually. You walked in quietly, this place was to quiet to clean...there's got to be something he's hiding.

Well he is Yuji, he wouldn't hid anything...would he?

First you looked under the couch.

Then his desk draws.

And then in the book shelfs.

Nothing. Maybe you were just to caught up in trying to find anything interesting, in reality you knew there probably wasn't even anything there.

Finally you opened his bed room door and were about to peek under the bed when you felt something gently run down your spine making you jump slightly.

You heard Yuji's laugh "Your spine really is your weak spot"

You stood up and grabbed the pillow off of his bed and whacked him with it.

"YUJI YOU SCARED ME!"

"HEY! CALM DOWN" He said wrapping his arms around you, pushing you on his bed, his body on top.

"What were you looking for?" He asked

"Mmm nothing Yuji, I was just looking around. I guess I was right, you don't seem like a guy who hides things"

"I don't need to hide anything from you babe, I have nothing to hide" He said smiling while kicking his old Jenifer Lawrence poster under his bed.

(He forgot to throw it out before you got there)

Yuta

You were sent on a mission with your boyfriend, last one of the day. You were practically on edge after the past few nights with little to no sleep. Worked to the bone and tiered.

You and Yuta had pretty much finished the mission, but there were still traces of cursed energy so you both spilt up.

Man this sucks.

You swore as soon as this was over you were going to collapse into Yuta's arms and sleep all the way back home. But in the mean time you just had to hurry and finish this mission.

Walking down the hall way you heard something inside of a room, that was it, it was the last curse. It would be an easy kill, if only you could find the damn thing first.

You swung open the door and was hit with a wave of exhaustion hit you making your eye lids get heavier. Your vision blurred and your limbs became heavier.

"Not now" You mumbled to yourself seeing the curse move away in the corner of your sight.

You stumbled into the middle of the room and swung your arm aimlessly, managing to punch right through the curses body.

A sigh escaped your lips. Finally. Or so you thought until you felt overwhelming cursed energy behind you. Before you could turn around and react you felt a small poke on the small of your back making you jump and your knees go weak, body falling slowly backwards into something...you close your eyes to just accept your fate at this point only to be met with the sound of a light hearted chuckle.

"Y-Yuta, you rat. You know that's my weak spot" You mumbled looking up at him, seeing his smile.

"Sorry, sorry I couldn't help it." He lifted your body up bridal style and carried you out the building.

"Where's Ichi when you need him" Yuta said looking down to see you peacefully sleeping.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: So random but i'm dying with out requests, I only have two more to write and I've nearly finished them. PLEASE.

#jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen megumi #yuji x reader #itadori x reader #okkotsu yuta #yuta x reader #jjk yuta #yuta fluff #yuji itadori x reader

[bthump]

what draws you to homosexual relationships in fiction as opposed to heterosexual ones? I noticed I prefer them as well but I don’t really know why. Or maybe it’s just in the media I like the homosexual relationships are written to be much more compelling, I don’t know. This isn’t hate against het relationships btw I support all sexualities

Probably a million different reasons honestly. Off the top of my head, some of my personal reasons:

-- I'm bi but more interested in gay relationships in my personal life, so my fictional interests reflect my irl interests.

-- Removes misogyny as a factor both within the romantic dynamic and, if m/m, the depiction.

-- Relatedly, I hate how 99% of hetero relationships in media have a built in lowkey unacknowledged d/s vibe due to that misogyny. Woman passive man active, woman pursued man pursues, woman weak man strong, woman soft man hard, woman fucked man fuck, woman object man subject, woman prize man winner, woman small man big, woman puts in work and money to make herself attractive man gets to live at his default state, woman desirable for looks man desirable for personality/money/skill, woman financially dependent on man, etc etc etc. Turns me off.

-- Like at least when that's the dynamic in m/m or f/f it's deliberately someone's kink and a gender norm is being subverted by one of the characters.

-- Gay relationships being more equal is something I've seen cited a lot, rightly or not, but it isn't one of my reasons lol, I like unequal relationships in fiction. That said, gender not being a factor in that inequality is definitely a draw for me.

-- Subtext is more engaging than most textual romances, and gay relationships are more likely to be subtext while het is more likely to be textual.

-- Gay sex (m/m and f/f) turns me on, straight sex rarely does.

-- Specific to m/m, but men in fiction are more likely to have compelling, complicated, deep relationships with each other than they are with women.

-- I enjoy gender nonconformity which is much more plentiful in gay ships and fiction than straight media.

-- Heterosexuality is oversaturated in media and I'm exhausted and irritated by its ubiquitousness.

-- As someone who grew up in the 90s, the existence of casually gay popular media still blows my mind lol, the shine has not come even close to wearing off. Heterosexual media just can't compete with that.

Anyway yeah, those are a few of my reasons, and maybe they align with some of yours as well.

Ultimately though I don't think it matters and it shouldn't be something you feel the need to justify imo. Enjoy whatever you enjoy for whatever reason, or no reason at all. But if you enjoy soul searching, then maybe this list is a decent starting point.

#ask #anonymous #b #theme: opinion #thanks for the ask!

[transmechanicus]

The mood of the day is "My battery is low, its getting dark"

#my stuff #had my suspicions confirmed that my friendship with my ex is basically never gonna be anything like what i thought and needed #its really fucking frustrating and it means that all of the warmth and attention they showed me before we were dating was- #due to their romantic interest in me rather than our connection as friends #and on top of that they're stressed out and depressed and have said they basically only trust ppl they're dating (fucked up imo) #so I'm never going to get the kind of connection i was looking for. If i wasn't waiting on something from them I would just give up on this #i'm not getting what i need. I'm barely getting anything at all. what a fucking waste of human connection #I'm exhausted emotionally and mentally and already under colossal stress with my phd and classes #i'm not gonna talk to em again until they reach out first i'm sick of fucking necromancing this and making 90% of the effort

[angel-of-sweet-revenge]

When your friend needs you to be there to comfort them, but you have no energy for serious conversations and so you're stuck wondering if youre being a selfish asshole or if youre justified in not wanting to be the one to sort their problems out

#vent #its not like they didnt offer to hear my problems. but i just dont want to talk about. or anything #i dont want serious conversations. i dont want to have to worry about other people. i just cant. #im just so fucking exhausted and i dont know if its talking to them and feeling drained by the fact that theyre going through something- #-and that i need to be the therapist or if im just sick. again. #plus yesterday i slept late. my mum made me cry (i think she was just tired out by that point in the day so i doubt it was personal) #and just #im fucking tired ok #and I'm sorry im a bad friend #i just dont have energy. i want to have good energy around me to try give me some. #but when theyre upset it gets into me and drains me and I've been there as much as i can but i just cant right now. im too tired #i know im a shitty person but literally everyone got to be a shitty person at my expense so isnt it my fucking turn? #and then assuming i was acting like that to hurt them. I DO NOT WANT TO HURT ANYONE. IF WE HAVE A FIGHT I WANT TO MOVE ON. #I'm not gonna be caught up in it if we resolved it #but yeah. long story short they're going through shit and i feel like shit #and i think them going through shit is what makes me feel like shit. because i worry about them #and they can lash out on me #i just dont know anymore. i dont know if im an awful person or not #last year i broke up with a friend and my mum said I'll do the same with the next friend #it wasnt my fault #that friend ghosted me #im trying not to be her rn too and im scared that ive been in the wrong im scared im a shitty person too #but at the same time im too done to even really care #i just wanna stop fucking feeling all this and just get on with my day

[byanyan]

the day byan dreads the most is the day when facial hair becomes a thing they have to deal with on a more regular basis

#of all the things... facial hair is the one which most sets off their gender dysphoria #it's the WORST they hate it sfm #they're still young enough that they don't need to shave too often but the day where that changes is ever approaching... #and they really wish it wasn't 🙃 #I wasn't kidding when I said I was having a lot of feelings about byan and gender today okay #I am thinking about so many things I am thinking so much about them #......anyway no surprise that I'm a liar who's not writing tonight. I'm fuckin exhausted today was weird I need to just vibe #sorry in advance if I spew more headcanons or thoughts or shitposts out this evening adjgjsg #━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ ooc ⋮ don’t @ me.

[running-in-the-dark]

today was exhausting - my friend was here for about 7 hours and I just. oh man I love her and all but it's just a lot sometimes. it's probably for the best that we only meet up like 2-4 times a year now (gives me enough time to forget how draining it is so I look forward to it, and recover afterwards)

I don't talk to anyone but my husband most days, and he doesn't really talk. so that's maybe 15 minutes total of talking. and today it was literally. 7 hours. no breaks except when we were eating (but no even then someone was always talking).

first of all ouch, it hurts (my voice is very hoarse now). and also. it's so so so draining. like. we really have nothing in common at this point. but she's my oldest friend and I do love her so it's tolerable... but just barely. these days there's way too much diet/food/weight loss talk, and also she seems to be getting into alternative medicine which I cannot fucking stand (it's one topic where I can't pretend or be nice about it either). lots and lots of very preachy vegan stuff too (I don't have any problems with it, I admire people who can do it, but fuck dude you know I eat meat and that I've said many times that I *can't* go vegan (I would starve. there's not enough foods that would be left. seriously.) and it feels pretty shitty to keep going on about it every damn time. I'm not sitting there trying to convince her that she should really be an atheist or something, because I know what her thoughts are about that and I respect it.

when she hangs out with her other friends a lot it's mostly just talking about all the issues that come from that (they fucking suck). I don't know, it kind of feels like I'm her therapist. when I talk about something I'm interested in she doesn't ask many questions and it kind of sucks. like, dude I don't care about your plants either, but I'm interested because you care, so. maybe try that too. would be nice!

#like I know alllll about her other friends and their shitty behaviour #and just. it's exhausting #it's also exhausting telling her over and over again that she is too nice. yes being nice is good and all but she lets people walk all over #her and afterwards she goes 'oh well I guess it was probably just because [they had a bad day/other thing that happened/I said the wrong #thing]'. I do that too! but it's just EVERYTHING. always. even when someone is CLEARLY being shitty to her. like her shitty friends. she #will still excuse their behaviour #it just makes me sad man. #buuut #like come on maybe let me talk about my stupid tv show for 5 minutes and try to seem a little interested? I know it's irrelevant I know no #one cares but damn you really can't pretend?? I've mentioned it before a couple times on the phone and she's always just vaguely like 'ah #that sounds interesting' WHEN I HAVEN'T EVEN SAID ANYTHING ABOUT WHAT IT'S ABOUT. but she doesn't ask what it's about so. I just stop #talking about it and we change topics. #like. yeah I know it's a bit weird that I'm in my 30s and that is one of the most important things in my life rn but. that's how I am. it's #always been that way. and my other friends care (or at least pretend to because they care about *me*) #so it feels pretty shitty! #like if I can look at 15 pictures of how big her fucking plants and herbs are getting. idk maybe ask one question about my show. #or like. even things like our new apartment and stuff. she listened and everything. but it's just. there's no interest there really. just #live 'oh that's nice :)' and we move on to the next topic again #idk man it makes me a bit sad (and I know it's ironic because I say she needs to acknowledge that people don't treat her well but. I mean I #do know this isn't great. and I limit my communication with her to a level that doesn't feel too exhausting. so. idk I feel like it's #different or whatever. buut really I just don't have many friends and I get lonely and it's better to listen to someone talk about #themselves all the time than not talking at all) #okay I'm gonna shut up now #and anyway I'm just exhausted and it's all very fresh rn and I'm incredibly tired so I'm very grumpy. usually it's really not that bad. #I just needed to vent I guess #okay bye and goodnight and I will stop talking now I swear #personal

[stinkbeck]

every time i get off the phone with one of my parents, i'm like "FUUUUUCK I HURT THEIR FEELINGS AGAAAAIIINNN"

#gdi #tbh i am also a little sad 'cause my dad said not 2 visit him during the holidays + just stay in + not celebrate #idk what anyone wants from me #it just hurts when u love someone + they blatantly say 'don't spend the holidays with me' #but i can't look into it or overthink it. #all i know is that ouch! it stings a little. #it also sucks cause it's like sometimes i'm really fucking tired. sometimes people have been treating me bad or i need a nap #and i come off a little flat while i'm listening 2 them. i try so hard 2 be enthusiastic but sometimes i'm just exhausted. it doesn't mean #that i don't love them!!!! i'm just tired!!!! #like my mom called me while i was napping + i could tell i hurt her feelings bc i wasn't using my bubbly voice with her but #i just get tired sometimes!!!! i try so hard 2 be polite!!!!!! #also can i just say it's hilarious 'cause last night i wrote a scene into this book about this 'cause i was like 'this is just bad enough #that it's possible but it wouldn't actually happen in my family' + then it does

[selective-yellow]

being the go to "just ask her" person in the office bugs me for a number of reasons but the thing I really try my best at doing is not making any one feel stupid for asking. I get a lot of "sorry this is a stupid question but - " no it isn't. it isn't stupid that you can't work a piece of technology that you've never used before. it isn't stupid that you're new and don't know where something is stored. it isn't stupid that you dont remember where something is. it isn't stupid that you need help with a site or program you've never accessed before.

people are not stupid for not knowing things. I never want to be someone who answers genuine asks for help or clarification with sarcasm or condescension. the difference between laughing with someone and laughing at them is not always obvious and everyone should be allowed to ask questions without feeling laughed at or mocked for it

#a shitpost #I'm not perfect #i have a temper and if I'm feeling overwhelmed or exhausted i might not have the patience to be understanding #but i really try my best to offer patience if i can #especially if someone already feels ashamed for asking #personally i might start swinging if i asked where something was and they said LMAO YOUVE BEEN HERE HOW LONG? #this was sitting in my drafts and since i quit it doesnt apply anymore but #i think the idea is still relevant. dont make fun of people for asking questions #all you're doing is proving people cant rely on you when they need you

[umilily]

i'm back. (and i didn't commit murder, but it was close.)

#lily talks #i took some nice pictures that i'll probably post later #many creatures to be seen #but all that really needs to be said is that it was exhausting and i'm done socialising for the rest of the month #i am so tired of dealing with extroverts #there was only one bed but unfortunately instead of a friends to lovers fic this was more like strangers to enemies lmao #(not quite that bad but oof) #like my roomate was alright even if we ahd absolutely NOTHING in common but she was incapable of talking in an indoor voice #or just not saying something for longer than 2 minutes #and this one dude nearly chewed my ear off with his whining about having to walk places and do things #like you know #as is to be expected of a course like this one #food was the shit though #today i ate my weight in Kaiserschmarrn and that is the type of life i want to lead #also once again bavarians are on a whole other level #suffered a cultural shock talking to them #(why would you mix dark beer with coke and cherry liqueur?? #that was probably the first time since i moved here that i felt understood by the austrians #also shout out to the woman running the inn we were staying at who saved us all by literally putting our shoes in the oven to dry #ironically the only day of this trip that my feet were dry was today when i had to put on a chest wader and get into a river up to my hips #in conclusion #i am not made for conducting research outside #(i nearly died on our hike and almost had to crawl towards the end bc it was so steep and uneven before giving up entirely) #but the perfect job for me is work where you have to pay attention to detail and can take as long as you'd like #i had to check riverbed samples for larvae and stuff today and that was the most relaxing thing i've done in ages

[stillfruit]

it's so difficult to articulate the feelings i get when i see my friends engaging in healthy and good behaviors like asking for emotional support and taking the time they need to arrive because i just can't and i know i'm wrong for it but it still feels incredibly isolating

#i ofc never show this externally because i know how to act like a person i know to show empathy etc etc #and when i say i'm wrong i mean that i recognize that it's my problem how i feel and it's caused by my own issues and #it's not something i would ever put on somebody else because as i said it's not their fault i'm too repressed to do anything #but still it feels so strange to see other people having many relationships and doing so many things and still being like :( i'm so lonely #or outwarldy saying they really want to talk and that they need support with something #or always being late #i support all of that!!!! but i also know i can't do that and when we discuss relationships i know i always relate to the bad people #in the story who are not open and who do things wrong and are not considerate enough and so on #there are these common expressions such as loneliness that have vastly different meanings for people and that difference not being expresse #externally really ever makes me feel insane because it makes me feel like other people apply their understandings to my experience #anyway this was inspired by me not having friends to do sports with and also feeling like an ed relapse could be on the way #but it's not like i can do anything to either of those things because first i would never force people to exercise if they don't want to #and my friends don't enjoy the same things as i do or at least not in the ways that i do and it would be difficult for me to ask them #and second it's not like anyone even knows anything and even if they knew what could they do. nothing #the kind of “aww remember to eat” thing just doesn't fuckign work for me i need to stab myself with something #two years of uni left two thesis to do but after that idk what's keeping me here there are things that i like and people i care about #but on the long run i'm just sad and will get more alone and lonely as time passes and people find their places in each others' lives #in between these episodes it's fine i like my space i like to do things alone it's exhausting to be with people all the time but yeah #shit talking

[bunn-iiii]

i kinda don't want to go back to camp but some of my stuff is still there

#so basically i have to go home every weekend (go home Friday after lunch go back sunday after lunch) #which means i have to go back tomorrow #and all i want to do is talk to the silly people on my phone and not be extremely misgendered and unable to correct people #cause telling campers my pronouns isn't camp appropriate. #sometimes this camp makes me want to die a little #but i already paid for the three weeks and i don't want to just waste that money #and i have some fun #but it kinda sucks to be there without my phone and it's hot out and i get misgendered and asked why i have a cane and told to get over my #meltdowns by another C.I.T amd there's never ang silemce except when I'm sleeping and the food isn't great and my schedule has to completely #change for it and i have to go to bed early and i have to stand the sun to lead songs and I'm almost always moving or standing and everyone #is loud all the time and singing during meal times is hell cause the lodge echoes so it's just really loud and i cried 4 times last week and #had about 2-3 meltdowns in five days #and I'm exhausted from it and i can't do what i used to love doing at that camp because it causes me so much pain #and no other person at the camp has mobility issues besides the 70 uear old CIT director that very obviously doesn't fully believe i need my #cane or to sit down frequently or take breaks #so yeah I'm a bit overwhelmed #not to mention i don't even know if i want to be a counselor at that camp anymore because of the whole pronouns thing #the media director said i might be able to join the media team they want to put together #and i really love this camp cause I've been going to it for so fuckin long and I've wanted to be a counselor here since my first week as a #camper #but it's all a lot #and i don't know if i should take a stand and be like “nope I'm not gonna let you treat me like this you just lost a future employee” or #just suck it up? #i hate breaking promises i made to myself in the past #and i told myself i was gonna be a counselor here no matter what #but i just dont know if i can take all that bs all summer every summer #ugh #tw vent

[bejeweledmp3]

welp

#suicide mention tw #the other day i had therapy right. and my therapist was like i was looking at the results of the tests you responded before we began #and i think it's necessary for us to talk about your relationship with death #and right now it's like. scariest thing to me in the world. also only thing i can ever think of #my brain keeps going i'm going to die!!! i'm going to die!!!! over and over and ot makes everything feel not real #which is scary and trippy and i hate living like this. as if i was dead already #and at the end she asked me to tell her in a scale of one to ten how likely she thought a suicide was #and i said 5.5. i've never planned anything i don't want to die. but if i die then i don't think about death anymore you know? #and i keep thinking about it and keep waiting for it to feel dishonest like. no way i'm a five in the would you kill yourself scale #but it doesn't. it feels like the truth i'm not going to do it but also i don't know what to do anymore #and i'm terrified of speaking to anyone in my life about this bc i don't want to scare them i don't want to be on suicide watch #so i'm just sitting here and my brain is eating me alive. all i can think about is how things end #i resent my body for needing to exist i also don't feel connected to it at all. and i'm exhausted man i really am #just. sigh. i'm sorry for writing this but idk what else to.do at this point #talking tag;