#I don’t know if that applies but just in case

[yumecel]

Ignorance is bliss 💙

yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 1.5k words

summary: you always felt something was off about the man you see on the train.

specifics: absolute creep neuvillette, OOC, modern AU

reader specifics: female, she/her woman terms whatever

tws: yandere, stalking, nonconsensual touching, molestation, s/a

Part 1 of Pervert Neuvillette.

[ReadMe 🔗] [1 📍]

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

You’ve always made a conscious effort to avoid sitting next to the man you always see on the commuter train. Something unsettling surrounds his presence.

Others don’t seem to think so. This is in spite of the fact that he sticks out like a sore thumb, briefcase on his lap, blemishless skin, flawlessly styled white hair, immaculately dressed in suits that change daily, but are always various shades of blue. Around him, the bustle of the general public- more restless, more disheveled- fades into the background. He looks so out of place to you, the kind of person that could definitely afford a taxi, yet you see him almost daily on your morning commute.

And you swear he stares at you.

You try to avoid looking at him.

He gets on one stop after you. Of course, there’s nothing odd about regularly seeing someone on public transportation. He does, however, seem to share the same carriage as you a lot. And perhaps that’s also by coincidence, the regularity of what end of the platform you end up standing on. He’s consistent. So are you. You can’t rationalise going out of your way to avoid the man.

You’d come to regret this.

One morning, the train is packed. Not the most abnormal thing in the world, but definitely a mundane inconvenience to grit your teeth through until you get out. Slipping your bag off your shoulder, you place it front of yourself and shuffle onto the train. You’re forced to stand near one of the doors, watching as the last few available seats are filled.

The next stop, you watch as people get off the train, more waiting outside to get on. Any seats that are freed are quickly filled, and you place yourself into a corner as people begin to step on. You turn yourself so your back faces the open doors, trying to protect your bag just in case. It’s a position that feels safe. Until it doesn’t.

Someone is pressing into your back. Unsurprising, considering how another gaggle of people just boarded. But this body behind you seems to be pressing up against you more deliberately, hot breath tickling your neck. There’s no way to reposition yourself, and you know you have to be understanding of strangers in times like these. All you do is clutch your bag in front of you a little tighter, reaching out to a handrail by your side so that you can steady yourself.

You hear your own name from directly behind you.

Your first thought is that you’re imagining things. It’s a male voice, deep and rich, and certainly not recognisable as anyone in your life. But when you ignore it, the presence behind you leans in closer, that same voice now speaking into your ear.

“Be a dear and let me put my briefcase between your feet.”

You freeze in place, willing yourself to pretend nothing is happening- but a hand begins to press at your waist, stroking upwards and downwards, applying more pressure at it starts to climb up to your chest-

You awkwardly shuffle your feet to accommodate the briefcase, stomach turning as you realise how your legs are now slightly spread and now both of his hands are free to do as they please. He manoeuvres the briefcase between your legs and drops it down, hand drifting dangerously close to your pussy. It’s on its side, meaning not even your knees can squeeze together. You’d never regretted wearing a skirt so much in your entire life. Panicking, you start twisting around- and when you can barely make out the blue suit of the man behind you, everything clicks.

“Good girl. I’m certain you’ve figured out who I am by now, yes? I can’t help but feel like we’ve known each other for years.”

The train begins to move.

One of his hands finds yours on the same handrail, engulfing it. His fingers are slender, but you can’t move your own hand away. His body feels as if it’s been locked to yours, now surrounding you entirely. The other hand moves to rest on your waist, thumb gently caressing back and forth over your shirt. It slowly slides downwards to your hip and you lurch forward- but there’s nowhere to go. Only the cold door of the carriage is in front you, locked shut as the train rattles along. Around you, oblivious bodies sway with it, looking down at phones or into the backs of others.

“I know so much about you, my love…” He says, hand briefly gliding to your rear. The train jostles. You feel him press into your back even more, chest bumping against you as he starts to speak again. It was bad enough that he knows your name- but horror fills your haywire brain as he starts listing off more names- reciting a list of your family members, friends, colleagues, social media handles. Your fingers tighten around the handrail and you shake, tears beginning to well up in your eyes out of fear.

Who is this man?

“Do you feel like you know me too, after all this time?”

You shake your head no, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the noise of the train.

“What a pity. You must be curious, though. I’ve noticed that you avoid looking in my direction.”

His hand glides down your thigh, thumb creeping under your tight skirt. You squeak as your lips tremble, staring out into the darkness beyond the train windows.

“When someone leaves a seat next to me, you’d rather stand. I wonder, what are you so afraid of?”

This. This. This.

With a lack of response from you, his hand continues to sweep across your lower body, desperate to feel every inch.

“You have such a lovely figure ,”He mutters, leaning deeper into you. You hear him inhale through his nose and are unable to suppress a shudder. “And such a lovely scent.”

You feel him bend his head down and lightly kiss your neck, causing you to jerk away from him- as far away as possible. Which is, much to your dismay, barely a few centimetres.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He whispers, retracting himself slightly. You’re still reeling from the kiss when his hand starts to go deeper, to somewhere more dangerous, slipping between your legs. You try to close your them but find it impossible to do fully with the briefcase obstructing your motion. The only thing left to do would be to try and bend forward, still exposing your most vulnerable area to him.

There is no escape.

You realise you’re out of luck when you feel his fingers slip over your panties, eager to explore. Your breath hitches and your face is on fire yet a deathly cold pervades every sensation. Worst of all, your body refuses to move. A single, wet tear rolls down your cheek. It isn’t long before one finger hooks underneath the fabric, stroking clumsily across your bare pussy, dragging itself upwards to your clit. Another finger joins it to rub, applying pressure in a way that would be admittedly enjoyable if not for the circumstances. Self loathing creeps up on you with a particularly pleasurable motion, a disgust at how skilfully the man behind you manipulates your body. You whimper pathetically, a sound that must’ve been audible to him as he lets out a small chuckle. It’s too lighthearted, too friendly, too boldly in contrast with the way his hand shamelessly molests you.

He suddenly stops, pausing for a moment with his fingers resting beneath your pussy. Now, only one finger circles your clit lazily, still sending sparks of unwanted pleasure into your core. “I believe it’s almost your stop. I’ll be in touch with you soon to finish what we started but… ah, where should I put this?”

His hand departs from your crotch, wiping carelessly against your thigh but soon returning with an object in tow. Something sharp causes you to squirm, surely it’s not anything dangerous, surely-

“Steady.” He murmurs.

He slips this object- now recognisable as a small card- into your panties, pressing directly up against your labia. With the card placed, he readjusts your underwear and skirt, still rubbing lightly at your clit over your panties until the train starts to slow. It creaks to a halt as he gives a demeaning pat to your rear, whispering his final message.

“Have a wonderful day, beloved.”

The briefcase is pulled out. He shuffles around. You hear him tell someone to “please, let this young lady exit” but you still avoid looking at him. You only look forward, eyes straight ahead as you try your hardest not to waddle with the foreign object inserted into your underwear. Making a beeline to the nearest public restroom, you breathe in and out, heaving. When you finally sit down on the toilet, you slowly peel off your panties with tears of shame dripping down your face.

Just when you thought you could take no further humiliation, you realise the card is stuck to the fabric due to being saturated with slick. You pry it off, trembling, and what you find is a business-card.

Mr Neuvillette. Epiclese Law Firm. Flipping it over, an address and a number you can barely read with your blurred, tear-filled eyes.

You drop the card to the ground, pressing your face into the palms of your hands and sobbing.

Bzz.

Must be your phone. You don’t care.

Bzz.

Bzz.

Bzz.

You end up rummaging around in your bag, seeing your phone already lit up with new notifications on the screen with every passing second. All are images from an unknown number. And with a rudimentary scroll, you realise all images are of you in various locations, and even various states of undress-

With bile rising in your throat, you turn off all notifications and power it off, staring into the blackness on the screen.

You’re calling in sick today.

[twoa-plus]

this is not a polished essay it is a giant yap session u have been warned

gotta be at least in the top 3 posts most likely to get me blown up by a missile but why is every depiction of bill & ford’s relationship either “hehe cute/sexy romance >:3c” or platonic psychological horror. why can’t we have both (not the cute/sexy thing, just the romance) like. u guys are aware that Really Really Horrible non-platonic relationships are a thing right. like u guys do know that right

idk i don’t really have words to express this eloquently but this fandom’s fixation on the idea of Romance = Good feels really weird to me. i really really love exploring complicated fucked up characters & their dynamics with each other and it’s just exhausting to not be able to do that without 14 pages of clarification. i know every fandom is like this to some extent i wasn’t born yesterday but it seems ESPECIALLY bad here. and yes imo it IS important to differentiate between a platonic & romantic relationship in this context bc that DOES make the way it reads a little different and that can be an interesting thing to discuss

also while i’m yapping abt things that would get me beat over the head with a shovel, y’all gotta learn that different interpretations doesn’t mean bad interpretations. like using bill & ford as an example:

“this is a good healthy relationship” bad interpretation. do you know how to read

“this is a really fucked up abusive platonic relationship” valid interpretation

“this is a really fucked up abusive romantic relationship” also a valid interpretation

(^does not apply to aus just the Actual Canon Written Text, aus are obv a case-by-case thing)

someone having the second interpretation does not make them homophobic i cannot believe i have to say this. someone having the third interpretation does not mean they support abuse (i actually can believe that i have to say that one at this point)

personally i actually don’t really care either way between the second and third i just wish we as a collective could have one (1) interesting and nuanced conversation about their dynamic & what led to it & all that stuff without spending 75% of the time just clarifying the opinion of “abuse is bad” it is so fucking tiring

anyways. fiddauthor truthers rise let’s all beat bill cipher to death with hammers

[nebula1734]

The media keeps saying stuff about the gun used in the UHC CEO killing being a 3D printed ghost gun , and as someone who knows guns and 3D printing, I want to give my opinion.

The use of a ghost gun is possible. While I don’t know much about them or procuring them, I do know stuff like 80% kits are relatively easy to procure and assemble. A ghost gun is just a gun that doesn’t have a serial number. This leads me to part two.

I’ve seen a lot of articles talking about a lot of ghost guns using 3D printed parts, if not being 3D printed entirely. This is, in the majority of cases, not true. There have been some designs capable of firing bullets that were 3D printed, but it’s rare and very hard to design. 3D printing is essentially just laying down layers of a melted plastic on top of each other and using that heat to connect the separate layers. This leads to several issues with trying to design a firearm made entirely of 3D printed plastic, primarily heat and pressure.

When a bullet fires, part of what applies force to the projectile is extremely hot gasses. The standard 3D print material, PLA, has a melting point of 175 degrees Celsius, which is (probably) much lower than those gasses. That gas also creates pressure which wants to take the path of least resistance, namely through the now softened thermoplastics.

This doesn’t even get into the issue you would have with reliably getting the weapon to cycle and feed ammunition, and from everything I’ve heard/seen, the Adjustor used a semi automatic handgun.

My point is this: don’t listen to the “it was a 3D printed ghost gun” bullshit. It’s fear mongering. In addition, it allows them ignore the issue of gun control in this country. If people are able to just make guns, then that is a completely separate issue.

[busiest-bee]

I’m scared to post this but if I don’t I’ll beat myself up about it. Fuck it we ball

I’ve been trying to put my emotions into words All day. But then I remembered. Oh right yeah. I can just. Say It.

Anyways Me being a loser (vent? I don’t know) under the cut

(Cool divider made by me using some splatoon assets I got off the wiki btw :•3 )

(This is kinda long. Way longer than I originally wanted. So super sorry about that)

Anyways for a little while now I’ve been considering that I Might be some form of nonhuman/otherkin. Specifically a shapeshifter, but dogs, cats (both big and small), wolves, and bears are things I relate to heavily as well. (Not sure “relate” is the best term for what I feel but ehh I’m having a hard enough time with this as is) The dog, wolf, and cat parts are because of the kind of shapeshifter I..am?? That feels kinda crazy to say (and saying THAT is giving me some serious self doubt. But as they say, Fuck It We Ball).

Edit (8-24-24)- adding in cuz I just remembered: some visual similarities to lizards/reptiles so throw a little bit of That in the mix idk

Anyways yea the type of shapeshifter I’m talking about is actually a species I’ve been Sorta developing over a couple years now, it’s all come about pretty naturally tho. It’s basically just my brain saying “hey I Hate these parts of being a human. Let’s do something else” idk how to word it. So the kind of shapeshifter I am is more so based on what I hate about my irl body. That definitely plays into my gender dysphoria, and vice versa.

The bear part I feel less strong about, but it makes sense I guess. That came around when I had an intense hyperfixation on Splatoon. My favorite character is Mr.Grizz. Who is a bear. That hyperfixation was also the catalyst for me trying tinned fish!! (This is important to me bcuz I’m an Incredibly picky eater. Not fully relevant to the rest of this but Oh Well. I’m already oversharing on the internet in an attempt to come to terms with my identity, why not share a fun fact, Yknow?) Ever since that I’ve also felt very strongly about salmon. My favorite fish (I didn’t have a favorite fish beforehand) is sockeye salmon I LOVE them. They’re beautiful. They’re poetic. I want to eat them. Also my current layout (as of writing this) is splatoon themed. Specifically Salmon Run and golden eggs. I love the way the world of splatoon makes me feel. I want to be completely immersed in it. Golden eggs look so tasty and are so gender I HAVE to eat them.

I don’t know if this is a kin thing or if I’m just thinking too hard about it (that could apply to this entire post but eh) but I also relate (again, maybe not the “correct” term but I’m working with what my brain has so shh) to Chara from Undertale. Idk something about a little kid falling down into a mountain full of monsters, being adopted by said monsters, and giving themself up just to try saving them…their cannonical distaste of humans…something about them as a character really feels so intensely Me. I don’t think I Am Chara, but. Idk. This is all very new to me (admitting that I feel these things at least. I’ve been consuming some kin content for a while now. It’s fun!! Love moodboards and stimboards so much they’re so fun)

And maybe, if anyone has even read this far, u might be asking “bee! Your name is Bee! Your account name is bee themed!! Are u a little honey making freakazoid out to get lost in the pollen sauce?”

To which I say:

All jokes aside. I don’t know man. Bees are very me, I am very bees, but I tried looking at bee kin/therian posts and i couldn’t really relate as well as i hoped. Although I might’ve just not scrolled down enough to find something that I really deeply felt in my gut. So just. Think of me like a fancy car (except creature) with a cool bee themed skin or something idk. (To be fair itd make more than enough sense for me to be a..kin?? Therian?? I don’t know. Of a bee. I have so many bee things. One day I will have more)

I’m still unsure of labels, if anything I just prefer the term nonhuman, gets the point across without being too specific, and doesn’t give me any of the bad icky feelings that make me feel like I’m lying no matter what I do or say.

Anyways yeah this was long and dumb and honestly? I’m terrified to post it. Ive been struggling to get my words out all day and I’ve been posting like a madman. But I guess using my social media as an outlet for all my emotions I otherwise wouldn’t really have anywhere to put will do that.

Sorry if none of this made any sense, I’m really trying to not only understand myself, but also to then Describe that understanding to other people. And I’ve never been very good at having people understand me.

If I end up realizing I was wrong I will promptly dig a hole in the ground and let nature overtake me and cover me in moss

(Also just a note: if anyone sees this, Reads this, and decides to like. Reply or reblog with words of encouragement/understanding or really Anything. I might not reply bcuz I have really bad social anxiety, especially on the internet. But trust me when I say that I read everything people say in the tags of reblogs, comments/replies, all of it. It’s all greatly appreciated, it really truly is.)

(Cool ass Mr.Grizz divider made by me with an asset from the Nintendo online app in Wandercrust I think. Though I believe all the pics u can get from that are also on the wiki) (I should make a salmon themed divider holy shit)

[applesaucesomething]

Some different versions of a Susie drawing I’ve been working on for ages it’s a redraw of an old piece of art of mine

[turtleblogatlast]

One of the biggest things that makes me see Leo as trans is absolutely the size of his carapace in comparison to his brothers’.

And I’m not talking about height! I’m specifically looking at his shell here, because when you compare him to the others, particularly Donnie who is nearly the same height as Leo, it’s very clear that Leo’s carapace is much longer in proportion to the rest of his body.

Like - standing side by side, even though Donnie is shorter his carapace ends noticeably higher up than Leo’s does. And I like this not only because it really helps push the idea that Leo could very likely be trans (or intersex!), but it’s also just a fun design difference between them.

(It also lends way to future scenarios of Donnie eventually getting taller than Leo, but sitting down still has Leo being the taller one haha.)

[dykedvonte]

Mini rant below and in the tags, the only time I’ll talk about this and my personal take on it.

The way people talk about hypothetical male Anya on Twitter and the idea of how Mouthwashing would play out if the genders were swapped makes me remember how people still don’t take sexual assault and rape with male victims with the same gravity, especially when the perpetrator is female.

[unspuncreature]

trans men please please please keep up with your pelvic health. find a provider who will listen to you and see you as you are. you have the right to good quality and affirming care

get your annual physical exam. regular std testing. pap smears. all of it

[binders-and-beanies]

I like how one of the go-to examples people give of high and low support needs is whether or not you can ride the bus by yourself. But then when I as a disabled person say I absolutely cannot ride the bus by myself, I’m not believed. Bc that would indicate an Actually For Realsies Serious disability and no one believes those exist (until it’s time to make fun of someone or discredit them etc)

[mifhortunach]

.

[perhaps-mr-collins-has-a-cousin]

Hello praying people, I'm not doing well and would really appreciate your prayers right now <3

[seilon]

pro: ran into a coworker at a bar last night who I don’t really talk to usually (he works upstairs, I work downstairs) and we talked and im pretty sure we were highkey flirting and he bought me a drink and the bar merch shirt i was interested in and thanks to the power of alcohol i guess i asked for his number and he gladly gave it to me and. yeah

con: i have the second worst hangover i have ever had and have been fighting for my fucking life just to eat saltines

[edwardseymour]

“She was a lady-in-waiting to Catherine of Aragon for several years alongside Anne Boleyn, so she would've witnessed the way Anne held Henry off for so long by pleading her virginity. She watched, and she learned. There is a famous tale of how Jane was picking out items for her wedding to the king, while Anne awaited her execution in the Tower. If true, it would show sprinklings of a cold heart. [...] I wonder if Jane was reminiscing over these events, as she was dying of child-bed fever, and if so, what her thoughts on them were. Did she pray for forgiveness for the part she played? I like to believe that she did, given how spiritual she was known to be.”

abfiles comments writing fanfic fantasising about jane seymour in moments of terrible duress!

[prettygirlgerard]

99% of lgbt discourse over the past 5 years is just teenagers with a specific insecurity that they want to make everyone’s problem

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Uh-oh. This is bad

[actualnymph]

I want to live in a big city but! I don’t want to live in New York, Chicago, Denver, Boston, or Sanfran 😭