Tumgik
#I have no idea what the scenario is here but I just like to imagine Dipper and Ford spot this motherfucker on a bench a distance away
elliesgaythoughts · 2 days
Text
I saw that…
bbf trans!ellie x dom (kinda) reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: yes you may have saw this before on another account, I shared some of my work on theirs but I prefer to have it here now.
warnings: masturbation e! & r!, use of mama for Ellie and r!, sliiight teasing.
the sweat treacled down your forehead in the dark room, only the faint moonlight breaking through the space in your curtains as Ellie “fuck, ellie” littered your brain with scenarios.
your fingertips dancing along your pussy as you huffed through your pout, trying not to wake anyone else in your house, especially not the goddess that your brother called a mere friend that layed in his room, her pretty auburn hair was probably splayed against the pillow she layed on her bed on the floor, your body grew hot at the thought of her, tears hanging on your lashes as you pushed a finger inside yourself, wishing it was her and pushing a second in, just trying to mimic the feelings you know you’d feel if she were to ever lay a finger on your skin.
the sound of squelching and low groans filled the room, memories of Ellie’s length brushing against your hip as she’d yawn and reach past you for a colourful box of cereal, memories of how she fucking teased you today, strutting around your house in her grey sweatpants, her eyes lighting up whenever she’d noticed your teeth buried in your bottom lip and the plush of your thighs pressed together, just as they are now, enclosing on your wrist as you imagined her filling you up, stretching you out.
your tears streamed your face as you whispered her name, like an almost silent mantra, your back arching off the bed as your toes curled, your air caught in your throat as you leaked around your fingers, the band in your belly so so close to snapping “fffuu-ELLIE?!” your heart practically stopped in your chest as you caught Ellie’s eyes, rolling over and hiding under the fluff of your covers “please” you begged mindlessly “please oh my god” embarrassment swallowing you.
ellie, looking more concerned than you, fearing that she made you horribly uncomfortable “no uh- I’m so sorry” her hand gripped the cold gold of your handle as she covered her body with the door “I heard…” she pauses in contemplation “..noises.”
you pause, only coming to reality when you notice the blush in her cheeks, how her eyes darted around the room, how her small breasts raised and fell with each of her shallow breaths as she tried to hide herself behind your door “yeah…um” you dip your head, growing shy “c’mere” you whisper, having a good idea of what is going on behind that door as you see the subtle movements of Ellie’s hand “n-no” her voice raising in pitch “I can’t…” she ends the sentence with a light flutter of her lashes, trying to keep her eyes open, she knows you know.
and with her light huffs through her pout and her pupils blown out her head, she instantly switches the power dynamic as you softly pull down the plush of your covers, revealing the smooth flesh that adorned your chest, the soft skin of your belly as you revealed your entire body, you lay there bare for her eyes to eat greedily at every inch of your bare skin, all but what she craved most.
her palm slapping over her mouth as you watched her hand move feverently, her eyes locked onto your fingertips as they met your clit through your soaked panties, a daring whine of “ellie” rang through your room in the dark.
she was so fucking greedy “pleasee” her knees buckling as she leans back against your doorframe, shamelessly reavealing her fist gliding up and down her fucking pretty dick and the auburn trail leading down to it “hmm?” you giggled, dipping into your panties and pulling your soaked fingers out, swirling your tongue around it, your eyes never leaving hers as you bobbed your head, moaning at the taste of yourself.
her gaze ate you up “please, please mama” she gasps under her breath, her opposite hand coming up, sliding under her white tee and twisting on her nipple “aww you wanna cum, baby?”
her blushed face nods as she sighs a weak “yess” through her pout as you squeeze your legs together, finding it hard to focus as you watch her tip leak, the way a thick vein that ran stiff up the side of her beating as her belly caved “yeah?” “uh huh” she squeaks.
“so pretty” you hum “ could keep you like this forever”
“baby please” she begs.
“are you a good girl ellie?”
she’s practically cumming already as her thumb comes up and makes soft curls onto her tip “y-” cut off by her own whimpers.
“be a good girl and cum on your fucking hands” you say, sickly sweet and her body instantly curls in on itself, a line of drool slipping past her lips as she grunts to herself, before strings of cum covers her and and your name leaves her throat, her hands finally slowing and breath steadying as you step off your bed, your breasts bouncing subtly while you watch you watch her weak frame.
you stand practically bare infront of her, yet she’s the one shying away, eyes low and lips parted slightly still in shock.
your hand reaches forward and connects with her dick as you slip her back into her boxers and place a kiss on her cheek “you did so good for me mama” and your heart flutters at the bashful grin her lips curve into at the nickname, she kisses your cheek this time “thank you” her praises land in a shaky breath against you face.
“now be a good girl and go get some sleep f’me” and without a word she nods and begins to turn on her heels..
only to be interrupted by you.
she gasps in surprise as you press her against your bedroom wall, giving her a soft kiss, the feeling of bliss consuming you and her as you both sigh softly against eachother before you pull back, a shit eating grin on your face and butterflies in your belly “goodnight ellie” you grab your handle for her to leave before she leans forward “goodnight mama” she coos softly into your ear, making your heartbeat fall to your clit as her cockiness returns, mirroring your previous smirk and leaving your room silently, only giving you a quick glance over her shoulder as her eyes light up meeting yours then tip toeing into her room.
You watch her and miss her the second your door clicks, back landing against your door as you cover your mouth and squeal in excitement into your palm, giggling to yourself as you climb back into bed..
@williamellieslilho @yourelliewillms @bready101 @moonalumi @heygrimace @pascals-doll @infiniteinquiries @aouiaa
173 notes · View notes
Note
How would Dark-Yandere!Farmer react to finding reader taking Polaroid photo shoots of his retired senior dogs in silly clothing like sunglasses, hair clips, etc. Btw love your writing keep up the good work!🫶🏼
Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader
TW - Readers def developing Stockholm Syndrome or something of the sort, nothing else though this fix is sweeter as an apology for the intense one last time about reader being punished. This was meant to be a qick paragraph or two as an answer but I got to deep into lore and this sweet scenario as it’s a side of him we don’t see much. Thanks for the idea glad you’re liking this blog❤️
I’ll proof read later
Tumblr media
You’d expressed an interest in his old cameras after he let you rummage through a few boxes he’d stored away. In a box he’s got a old digital camera a Polaroid one and then a really fragile one that’s much older than the rest, you didn’t dare pick it up in fear it would fall adapt just by touch. Then at the bottom of the box, a few images, some developed film some printed. You recognised him in some home images or family portraits, he looked like a happy kid with a cheesy grin sometimes even pictured on this very farm but most of them look to be taken in a small town house.
It’s weird to imagine at one point he was just a normal kid, living a normal life, photos of him blowing out candles on his birthday or with some older family members reminded you that no ones born ‘bad’. Makes you wonder why he’s the way he is now, what happened?
A part of you wanted to take one of those sweet images of him as a child and hide it away, to uncover and re-remind yourself he’s not a living monster but a human and a kind one at times. To ground yourself when he gets angry and all you can see him as is a living demon. To set the aspiration that if he was once so -he can be again.
You recognised a woman from the images as his mother because he kept a image of her in the bedside draw, she looked loving and kind. But he’d never talk about her, answering your careful questions about her with “she was a good mother” or “she was an admirable woman” he seemed emotionally withdrawn about it so you didn’t push it. You figured since she’s dead he’s just remembering her face.
The rest of the pictures seemed to be from the building of this farm, dated on the back in scruffy hands writing, maybe by his father or grandfather. You could look through this pile of history for hours, not just to learn more about your captor but about the history of this place and the his family that he’s so reluctant to talk about.
The ladder to the attic creaks behind you and his distinct heavy boots land with a thud and groan on the ladder steps “what’s got you so occupied up here?” You felt like you’d been caught looking in something you shouldn’t have despite having permission “j-just these cameras, I had a polaroid camera once” you turned to him showing him the old camera, he now off the ladder and standing over you.
“Hmm, old thing -maybe older than us” he gently took it from you hands to inspect it “probably still works if you want it, not any use just sitting up here” he hands it back “thank you” you reply with a smile he waves you off and crouches down beside the box with you. He shuffles through it completely ignoring the images from his past and he rummages in search of something “No film stacks though, I’ll pick some up from town next time”
“Really?” You look over at him in excitement, he shrugs “sure” he stands up ready to head back down stairs “had I known you’d be so happy I’d have gotten you one sooner” he chuckles at your excitement over something so small.
To you it’s much more than a old camera to take up some free time when you get bored. It’s yours, you can control it, keep it for your own. You don’t have much things that’s yours anymore but the collections growing.
...
You’d basically forgotten about getting film for your camera as a week or two had passed. But he hadn’t, he returned to the truck once again being one of may shops he had to stop at. But this time he didn’t have heavy bags of stock or material and tools for the farm but just 3 small boxes that he could carry in just one hand.
He sat down in his seat and extended his hand to give you the boxed, you furrowed your brows in confusion until you read one of the box’s. A big smile plastered you face when you got to the word ‘film’ “that should be enough to last you a long while” “thank you” you grinned giving him a quick hug out of appreciation.
Once you both pulled into the driveway of the farm you had already thought up many picture opportunities, and you couldn’t wait to get to it. The car parked and he gave you the go ahead “You can finally get to your photography, take some pretty pictures” you practically ran to the house to retrieve the camera.
...
You’d been in the house for a hour or two at this point and he’d began to get a bit concerned, usually you’d come outside now and then or spend the afternoon in the barn playing with the animals. But no sign of you. He put the final nail into the fence he was fixing and decided to come check on you.
He got to the front door and could hear you laughing before even opening it “good boy Berty, you’re so handsome” his curiosity peaked at those words, he quietly made his way to the room you and presumably Berty the elderly farm dog was in and observed from the door frame.
There you sat, infront of Berty whose dressed up in various items and fabrics mimicking clothes. The camera clicks and your silent as you watch it develop, Berty still sits patiently. “We got the picture, look at how dapper you look” you praise him and he gets exited leaving all the items fall off his as he runs up to you to get pet.
“When I said pretty pictures I was envisioning landscapes or with artistic vision” he jokes still standing in the door way unable to not smile at such a bizarre but cute sight. You stand shocked for a moment, he’s not one to creep up on you, it when you see his amused smile you loosen back up. “This is artistic vision, and Bertys my muse, look at how handsome” you joke and show him the photo “it’s something alright” he almost laughs out.
“Hey, this is worthy of a museum, the composition the choice of colours the muse, it all tells a story” you continue to joke, he just shakes his head unable to wipe away his smile “as long as your happy, I guess” “I am, thank you again” moments like this you forget everything you went though and are able to exist in ignorance.
Those moments are becoming more frequent now especially since he’s began to become more relaxed, he wasn’t as authoritarian anymore, your sure if you pushed it he wouldn’t have a 2nd thought of going back to the way things were. There’s always that lingering threat but it’s not as pronounced anymore. You’re starting to see the love he has for you, sometimes unconventional and deranged possessiveness but moments like this, seeing him smile and joke you can delude yourself into believing he’s a normal partner.
He brings you in closer by the hips “you’re so cute” his grin is akin to the little boy in those pictures, you’ve seemed to restore a part of his childish cheer. He pecks your lips “I bet the barn animals are missing you, maybe you should take this photography session to them, I’m sure they’ll appreciate the attention”
And that’s what you did, dressed up the chickens though they didn’t stay still -the cows were great models -but a few animals tried to eat the accessories and clothing which made things harder. The farmer got less work done than normal that afternoon as he found it quite amusing and cute watching you through the cracked barn door trying to wrestle a bow onto a goat.
174 notes · View notes
persephoneprice · 2 days
Text
Nero & Persephone Price- Relationship Thoughts
Elaborating on my last post: I find myself going back and forth regarding my thoughts on Persephone’s relationship with her father, Nero. On one hand, I can see them having a very strained relationship with her resenting him for the leg incident (amongst other things). On the other, I have this idea that perhaps she feels almost…indebted to him in a way?
Here are my ideas of Persephone’s life. I have no basis for any of it and I just made all of it up! If anyone actually takes time to read this then congrats you are my favorite person!
On The Idea of Resentment:
- Persephone grows up knowing that her father purposefully fed her human meat and struggles to cope with the guilt of what she ate.
- Persephone’s mother passes away due to malnutrition before the cannibalism thing. In this scenario, perhaps a part of Persephone also resents that Nero didn’t resort to cannibalism sooner in order to save her mother?
- On top of the cannibalism thing, Nero is also critical of Persephone. Always reminding her to act like a lady and to present herself well in public. It’s very important to him that she marries well and it’s something he constantly reminds her as she ages.
- I imagine this isn’t actually a well-known thing in the Capitol (Coriolanus only knows because he saw it happen). Nero drills it into Persephone to never, ever repeat it to anyone- which only deepens her shame.
- It also depends her resentment. I imagine Nero to harbor a lot of guilt regarding his wife’s passing and makes it a point to never allow it to be brought up. (I also have a HC that Nero doesn’t allow pictures of his late wife to be displayed, either.)
- So now Persephone can’t speak about her feelings outside of her house or inside. She is completely alone in coping with her trauma and it causes even more tension in the Price household.
On The Idea of Empathy:
- Persephone still grows up knowing about the cannibalism thing but doesn’t hold it against Nero. She still feels the shame and guilt but also has a level of empathy for her father’s situation.
- She understands that he just lost his wife and was in danger of losing his only child, wouldn’t that drive any man to extreme length? Besides, it’s not like he killed the maid himself.
- Part of Persephone feels almost indebted to her father for his sacrifice. He didn’t kill the maid, but he is the one who went out and found her. He is the one who had to carve up human meat to feed his daughter.
- Persephone feels like it’s important to be a good daughter and support her father’s emotions because of what he risked to save her life.
- She’s more aware of her father’s feelings and guilt regarding the situation because of this so she’s more understanding of why he can’t bring himself to talk about it or her mother.
- But because their relationship is less tense, Persephone feels safer opening up to one or two of her closest friends about everything. This way, she’s not completely alone in coping.
Either way, I think the situation is basically the same. The real difference is how Persephone reacts to it. I just can’t decide if I imagine her to be more resentful or empathic…but I’m leaning towards empathic.
If anyone actually made it this far (I love you), please feel free to share your thoughts!! Seriously, I’m desperate for Price content. Tell me any headcanons you have about her or her relationship with her father.
20 notes · View notes
astro-b-o-y-d · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
This was originally going to be something with older character designs, but then it kinda veered into being something else. Either way, I just really wanted to draw my Bill being somewhere in his late teens/early twenties by human years.
Also I believe in tuxedo t-shirt Bill supremacy.
(Don’t tag as any ships) (Cipher font [here])
75 notes · View notes
monty-glasses-roxy · 2 months
Note
Thoughts~
Bonnie being angry and disappointed at Freddy when Cassie helps bring him back only for him to see the destruction and decay of his family and home that Freddy allowed to happen because of Gregory, and breaks up with him.
Bonnie later slowly starts falling in love with Proto Freddy (maybe a bit of it is Bonnie projecting but he's def falling) instead.
And Freddy can see it happening from where he is.
Gay drama~
(Long post. I went off on one lmao and can't use read mores on my phone, sorry mobile users)
Ohhh that's a fun one! Bonnie rebounding onto Protobear and after a while those feelings become real... he deserves it honestly. He deserves a happy ending after everything, and so does Protobear! Bet that's an emotional rollercoaster to get through though... That party doesn't sound fun... For them anyway. Very fun for us though! Sucks to be them!
You know what else is fun for this? Bonnie falling for whoever Freddy believed deactivated him. Freddy treating someone differently before the events of SB, and side eying them all the time, not trusting them at all because of what the must have done to Bonnie... It must have been them! They're the only one the makes sense! They're the one that made him disappear and is trying to act like everything's normal! They must be to blame! They took his Bonnie from him and won't tell him what they did or where he is! Whether he's right or not is irrelevant, if he believes it's true, he's going to want nothing to do with them! They need to stay away from Bonnie!
And now here he is. Watching Bonnie flirt with that person. Be it Monty, Roxy, Moon, Chica, whoever. Freddy finally saying out loud what he's felt he's known for a long time now, that this animatronic killed him, how could Bonnie possibly even still look at them, never mind fall in love with them after that?!
Bonnie's face falls flat. He turns to Freddy and stares him right in the eyes. "They didn't do it, Freddy." or even, "They did it to save me, Freddy. What did you do?"
Absolutely devastating. The gay drama is so good
On another note, this is making me think of Protobear and Roxy being fucking hilarious. "Hey, you wanna really freak him out?" one of them asks and they start fake dating in front of Freddy to piss him off. Like they're the most over the top, mushy couple with the most insufferable nicknames, trying so hard not to laugh their asses off, and the first one to crack loses. Everyone gets in on it. Whaaaaat?? Roxy and Protobear?? Oh they're sooooo in love so so so in love, they're not pretending, they would never pretend!!
Jskdndk they get Cassie in on it and she starts calling them mum and dad 2 and Freddy is pointedly trying to leave the room as quickly as possible, but as usual, the fucking doors aren't letting him out again. They're always on the blink now, it's absolutely never Roxy using her security clearance to play Musical Doors with him. Nope. Never. Look at their fake mushy romance boy, you can't escape.
Freddy has never been more confused and sickened in his life. He's always hated Roxy and Roxy's always hated him, this is the worst thing to have to watch ever. He's even more upset if Bonnie pretends to be their partner as well, and even more so if Roxy was who he assumed deactivated him. This is a nightmare scenario and he's being so brave about it.
Sat there trying so hard not to say a word. He's so fine. Not glaring at all. No no no, he's not staring listlessly at them, he's just trying to contact maintenance via the network, obviously. He's not resisting the urge to grimace and not wishing the floor would swallow him up right now. Absolutely not. He would never. He's so so so happy for them. Yup. So so happy. Could not be happier. Why won't these fucking doors open?!
You could apply the fake dating to Protobear and Bonnie specifically too. Bonnie's going through a rebound, and he knows it, so he stays away from Protobear for a while. He tries to take care of himself and the others are right there to help him out the best they can. When he's feeling better, he starts gradually spending more time with Protobear (who has had the situation of Bonnie and Freddy explained to him and is very understanding about it) and the two start slowly building a friendship. Slowly, so as to not rush Bonnie through anything. Protobear himself has walked away from several hangouts because he can tell that Bonnie is struggling, even if he won't admit it, they're handling this with the utmost care...
But then Bonnie, Roxy, Monty and Chica, the four that should never be trusted without supervision, get talking. Bonnie is laughing at these three clowns telling him all about how they're fucking with Freddy for fun, and let him in on some of their schemes. They're hilarious, and he would have thought so before everything happened too, even if he did think they were a bit mean at times. I mean, rallying a bunch of kids to gang up on Freddy in their Fazerblast game as a 'super secret mission' is a touch mean, right? Not anymore. He deserves it.
But then they get to thinking. Bonnie wants to try messing with him too. They bring him in on some of their dastardly plans, and come up with several new ones for him, and believe me, at this time, not a single one of them has the braincell, so you can imagine the bullshit they come up with lmao. He finds this weirdly cathartic. The ability to moderately inconvenience Freddy in funny ways is more fun than he thought it'd be. He was worried it would hurt, worried it would make him think about things too much, and while it does hurt to look at him sometimes... Well his heart is more with his friends than ever now. He feels no desire to be nice to him, or to go back to how things were anymore. He's okay now and this is what makes that real to him...
Then one day it hits him. His own plan to mess with Freddy. Completely his own, the three stooges had nothing to do with this one. It hit him when he was hanging out with Protobear and DJ. What if they were fake dating in front of Freddy? Bonnie and Protobear! Madly in love, with the most sickeningly sweet pet names and the worst pick up lines you've ever heard in your life! DJ thinks that would be pretty mean... But would get him so good, he's a surprisingly petty guy sometimes. Protobear agrees and is completely up for this, it sounds hilarious, but... is Bonnie sure he's ready for that? Is he sure he can handle that?
They think on it a bit and talk to the others about it, who think that's fucking genius but have the same concerns as Protobear. Sunny thinks it's a bit much (and he's probably right) but is very excited to play along with this. He loves playing pretend, he's where Cassie gets it from. When they decide they're gonna do it, they set a few boundaries just in case, make a safe word for if they feel they start going too far with it, and swear to eachother to call it off if it all starts getting too much... Or maybe too real.
Oh my god they have so much fucking fun with it. Protobear has never laughed so hard in his life. The others joining in, helping them pull this off, and building on the joke too make it even more fun! They're having a blast and Freddy is suffering greatly! Customer service mode can't save him now!
But after a while, things start to change. Some of the flirting becomes a little too heartfelt. The insistence that they're not actually a thing becomes less frequent. The act starts to spill over into their everyday lives. Suddenly, they're not so sure this is still a joke anymore. Suddenly, the overdramatic cuddles last until long after Freddy has left the room. Suddenly, they're starting to wonder what it be like to be together for real.
Realisation hits and oh god oh no oh fuck this was NOT the PLAN god DAMN IT
So much fun to be had here!
One more funny one: instead of just Roxy or Bonnie pretending to be with Protobear, what if it's everyone? Protobear has one giant polycule going on where everyone apparently adores him and he dotes on everyone cause he loves them all so so so much. Freddy is staring in disbelief at the 'romantic' cuddle pile Protobear is right in the centre of like this is the most normal thing in the world. It's a Plex wide competition to see who can be the most insufferable in a fake relationship and whoever cracks first loses. It's a team effort! A coordinated attack! And sometimes they actually do fluster Protobear and eachother they're all having fun!
I'd like to call this plan the Protocule :)
(Also, hi jellycreamjammedart! This is the first post I've made today so you may wanna check I've not reblogged with more additions later on. I know you get online kinda late in my timezone, or at least that's when I tend to see you around, so saying this is just in case!)
#comedically torturing freddy is my favourite thing to do it's so funny#he has this massive grip on what emotions he displays it's like he's in permanent customer service mode sometimes#watching him struggle so hard is Roxy's favourite pass time lmao#long post#pop rox answers#OH GOD I'LL REBLOG WITH THIS ADDITION LATER TO MAKE SURE IT'S SEEN#BUT BONNIE ACCIDENTALLY USING THE PET NAME HE HAD FOR FREDDY IN PROTOBEAR#AND PROTOBEAR DOESN'T KNOW SO BONNIE FLINCHES EVER SO SLIGHTLY#WHILE PROTOBEAR TURNS TO LOOK AT HIM A BUT FLUSTERED BY THE NAME AND SMILES SO SWEETLY#BUT SO UNLIKE FREDDY AND BONNIE IS MELTING ABD OH GOD OH NO WAIT A SEC IS HE FALLING OH GOD OH NO#wait is this bullying? i feel like roxy would bully him but hmm. I'll have to think on that...#maybe it's the doors specifically that's suddenly bugging me#hmmmm i dunno. anyway#i love waking up to things that give me ideas dnjdjd#now imagine proto is zags the old freddy and the confusion is rising djdnjd#to be clear freddy is unaware most of this is just them fucking around#he's suspicious of a few things but not everything#they're all very sneaky about their crimes and the vast majority are harmless and just inconveniencing#very few of them actually want to hurt him but will mess with him a little from a distance if it's funny#they would all mess with eachother before hand they just weren't sneaky about it so the whole 'getting caught' thing is all that's really-#-changed. not for roxy though. she's always fucked around with freddy specifically as sneaky as possible#was just less often before now...#I'm wondering what the scenario is here btw. how did we get to a presumably open plex that freddy is a part of?#i feel like certain animatronics wouldn't let him through the fucking door again#hmmm anyway
9 notes · View notes
coquelicoq · 9 months
Text
i finally wrote an xword that i think might be nyt-submittable...i originally wrote it for the local paper though so i now have to go back through and rework the clues to take out the specific local ones and make some of the others harder. i know exactly which day of the week this would run in the nyt (if it gets accepted) because this type of theme always runs on the same day, so at least i know which clue difficulty to aim for, but i'm still finding it difficult to hit that precise level! i'm used to just making the clues as easy as possible because my local paper's audience is mostly people who aren't xword aficionados. i already reworked this puzzle a couple times based on feedback from friends and family but that was all still when i thought i'd be running it in my local paper. i kinda just want to be done with it but i've never had a theme and fill i thought were completely nyt-worthy before!
#i've been thinking that i would write a puzzle that was intended for the nyt from the beginning#but i never prioritize it because the local paper is actually expecting something from me and i have deadlines with them#so this might be the only way it ever actually happens#i feel kinda bad for the local paper that they don't even get my best work haha but also this theme would probably be too hard#for most of their audience (though let's face it probably all of my puzzles are too hard for various reasons)#aw shoot though i just reread the submission guidelines and they're specifically looking for themes OTHER THAN this type#hmmm#cruciverbs#i also wouldn't mind submitting this in collaboration with a more experienced constructor who could help me with the clues#and i imagine such people are always looking for greenhorn collaborators because it allows them to have >3 submissions#in the queue...but i don't even know how one goes about finding such people#if i submit it and they reject it no harm no foul EXCEPT that i don't know how long it would take them to get back to me#and if this isn't going to run in the nyt then i'd still like to run it in the local paper#but also maybe if they reject it they'll be like 'we don't want this but you seem to have promise so here's the email address of#one of our veteran constructors who would be willing to work with you on other ideas you may have'#i just made that up idk if they would actually do that haha but it seems plausible. and wouldn't it be nice?#i do have another nyt-specific idea that i've been spinning my wheels on for like two years#hmm hmm hmm. i think my best bet is still to rework these clues and submit it and see what happens#worst case scenario is they never get back to me. which is a distinct possibility given what happened with my#american xword puzzle tournament previous year solved puzzles (ie they never got back to me >:( )#but that was will shortz. this is will shortz plus like 5 other people. he probably doesn't even see new submissions
12 notes · View notes
witch128chick · 2 months
Text
it's amazing to have hyperfixations just not when you sit in front of your laptop staring blankly at it trying to figure out which one of your fics you wanna continue. bc NONE CUZ THE FIXATION ISN'T ABOUT ANY OF THEM
i'm having intense thoughts and feelings yet i can't let them out
it's basically painful
2 notes · View notes
gongedtornado · 10 months
Text
help girl i got too silly <\3 (overthought every interaction ever)
7 notes · View notes
Text
In 1985, one of the only persons interested in an interview with a “new” writer called Terry Pratchett, after his publication of the Colour of Magic, was one Neil Gaiman. Neil Gaiman was writing for Space Voyager at the time. "The Colour of Pratchett" was the name given here:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It ran exactly one page inside the June/July issue of that year. The interview took place in a Chinese restaurant in London.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Here is Neil many years later holding that issue. You can see it here if you want. Warning: extremely emotional video.
Neil arrived wearing a grey homburg hat. “Sort of like the ones Humphrey Bogart wears in movies” he later wrote. (Before saying that in fact he did not look like him, but like someone wearing a grown-up’s hat). Terry Pratchett, photo courtesy of one @neil-gaiman, was in a Lenin-style leather cap and a harlequin-patterned pullover. At this point, Terry was already a hat person, although not that hat.
Terry offered Neil this : "An interview needn't last more than 15 minutes. A good quote for the beginning, a good quote for the end, and the rest you make up back at the office"*. (Terry Pratchett had worked many years in journalism by this point ).
But the meeting went terribly well. The two of them realized they had "the same sort of brains". So well indeed, that in 1985, Neil had shown Terry a file containing 5282 words, exploring a scenario in which Richmal Crompton's William Brown had somehow become the Antichrist. Was a collaboration in the cards as of that moment? Not really. But Terry found in Neil someone to whom he could send disks of work in progress and to whom he could pick up the phone sometimes when he hit a brick in the road of his writing.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Terry loved it and the concept stayed in his mind. A couple of years later, he rang Neil to ask him if he had done any more work on it. Neil had been busy with The Sandman, he had not really given it another thought. Terry said, "Well I know what happens next, so either you sell me the idea or we can write it together". **
And as you know, unless you’ve been living in Alpha Centauri, the rest is history. That was the beginning of what would become William the Antichrist and later would get the name Good Omens:The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch. (Title provided by Neil Gaiman and subtitle by Terry Pratchett).
Tumblr media Tumblr media
From the introduction to William the Antichrist: “In the summer of 1987 several odd ideas came together: (..)I found myself imagining a book called William the Antichrist, in which a hapless demon was going to be responsible for swapping the wrong baby over, and the son of the US Ambassador would be completely undemonic, while William Brown would grow up to be the Antichrist, and the demon would need to stop him ending the world. The unfortunate demon, whom I called Crawleigh, because Crawley was a nearby town with an unfortunate name, would have to sort it all out as best he could.
It felt like a story with legs.
Terry took the 5,000 words, and rewrote them, calling me to tell me what he was doing and what he was planning to do. The biggest thing he was going to do, he told me, was split the hapless demon into two characters – a would-be-cool demon in dark glasses (which was, I think, Terry’s way of making fun of me, a never-actually- cool journalist in dark glasses) who had renamed himself Crowley, and a rare-book dealer and angel called Aziraphale, who would embody all the English awkwardness that either of us could conceive.”
William the Antichrist being a direct inspiration of the 1976 film The Omen. If the baby swap had just been a little bit messier and the kid had gone off somewhere else he would have grown up as somebody else. “And then there was a beat and I thought, I should write it, it will be called William the Antichrist” says Neil. ***
“The first draft of Good Omens was a William-book. It was absolutely in every way it could be a William book. It had Violet Elizabeth Bott, it had William and the Outlaws, it had Mr. Brown”.
Over time they realized that they would have more creative freedom if they in their own words filed off the serial numbers. William and the Outlaws becoming Adam and the Them.
But the spirit of Just William was never far away.
The joy for Neil was to construct “perfectly William sentences”. The one when Anathema tells Adam that she has lost the Book, and he tells her that he has written a book about a pirate who became a famous detective and it is 8 pages long… that’s “a William sentence”.
Good Omens was also inspired by a particularly antisemitic moment in The Jew of Malta and John le Carre's spy novels. (Neil’s ask)
“When we finished the book we estimated that the words were 60% Terry’s and 40% mine, and the plot, such as it was, was entirely ours.”
(Here are some slides of mine where I go into some other details concerning the origins of Good Omens).
Tumblr media
*Quote: from Terry Pratchett A Life With Footnotes by Rob Wilkins, but said by Terry of course.
** All the quotes, facts listed here : see above.
***all other quotes by Neil Gaiman from various interviews and asks I’ll link.
4K notes · View notes
tizeline · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Presenting: The AU I accidentally created OOPSIE!! 😬😬😬
And yes, I know, it's another Seperation AU, and yes YES, I KNOW, they're a bit overdone at this point, bUT LISTEN!! That's precisely how I ended up in this situation!!!
So there's a lot of Seperation AUs exploring a lot of different scenarios with the turtles being raised, well, seperately. I've seen quite a few of them at this point, and despite whatever the combination is when it comes to turtle + parental figure, I'm sure I'm not the only one who has noticed a pattern of specifically Donnie often being raised by a villain. Which makes sense, he has a tendency to put on this evil-mad-scientist-act in the show, so of course a lot of us want to see what Donnie would actually be like as a proper antagonist. But that just made me think think of the opposite possibility, of Donnie being the singular good guy while his brothers are all bad guys. Mind you, I'm sure SOMEONE must've thought of this concept before me, but I haven't seen it! So here we are!
Tumblr media
In this AU (which doesn't have a name so don't ask!) Splinter only managed to yoink Donnie during The Incident™, so he ended up an only child, while Raph, Leo and Mikey were raised by Draxum. I also imagine Draxum being at least a decent dad considering the circumstances, so the kids he raised ended up with pretty similar personalities to what they have in canon.
Because of that we get Hero Donnie who acts all villainous cuz he's a total theaterkid, and Villain Raph, Leo and Mikey who act all heroic cuz they honestly believe they're doing the right thing in literally destroying all of humankind and as a result developed an intense case of main character syndrome.
Anyway here's some references-
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I don't know how far I'll explore this AU. I fully intended to just make like one or two posts rambling about the basic concept, but when I was drawing these images my brain went into full Brain Blast mode and I started coming up with a bunch of other ideas so uh... we'll see how this turns out later I guess haha
6K notes · View notes
luvmila444 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SWEET RELIEF - C.S
…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………
Chris sturniolo x fmreader
summary: Chris can’t help but get a bit worked up while on a tutoring study call with you, when you realise what he’s doing, you only pushing him further to the edge.
content warning: male masturbtion; dirty thoughts; praise kink
word count: 2.8k
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Chris was a little embarrassed with how fast he had picked up the phone call from you, not to mention the blush that had spread across his cheeks and his quickly paced heartbeat when he heard your sweet voice ring through the speakers. 
“Hey, Chris!” You smiled as you spread your small pile of assessments and study papers across your desk to get yourself prepared. This had been a regular thing on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the past two months. You guys would set up a phone call together as you would help him study as Chris was falling behind in class…a lot. You guys had to do it over the phone as both houses were always so busy due to Chris’s brothers and your family always occupying your living spaces, making it difficult to have privacy and quiet to help him focus and bring his grades up. Therefore, you resulted in two easy phone calls across the week, which Chris always enjoyed a little too much. 
Chris loved that you could never see him and what he was doing at the sound of your voice over the phone. The sweet ring of it through the speakers. The way you ramble so passionately about the work. Yeah… he definitely liked having the privacy of his room for these calls more then he’d like to admit. Although he can never help but imagine what you looked like, what you were doing. Fuck… he’s been on the call for no more than ten second and he’s already getting himself worked up. 
“Chris…?” He heard you voice agin. Fuck that voice. 
“Yeah... I’m here, hey y/n.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips hearing hear giggle at his slow usual response. 
“Okay well glad you're here,” you say readying the paper you had recently got giving by your teacher, on to the top of the pill of books you had been working on, “why don’t you fine the paper that mr Hudson gave us today and we will work through that one today, yeah?” You say cutely but trying not to talk so fast so Chris could take in the information. 
“Yeah, yeah sure…” he buries his way through his overflowing piles of unfinished homework to find the paper that was given to him today by his teacher “why did he give us the paper today, anyway?” Chris huffs, flipping to the first page that you wanted to start working on. 
“I have no idea, it’s not like we don’t already get enough work given to us on Mondays and Fridays, but now on Wednesdays too? It’s getting a bit intense at this point!”
Chris hums in agreement, loving the way you get worked up about things. However, once you were done with your small rant, you let out a sign that was so quiet only the most observant person would notice it, lucky for you, Chris was that person. As you made the noise Chris felt a familiar warm feeling in his lower stomach, just imagining you making that noise in a very different scenario…
“Did you see jenny today?” You interrupted his quickly drifting dirty thought, referring to girl who passes every class, not using her smarts but her body instead, fucking her way to good grades. 
“No, why? What was she doing this time?” Chris asked slowly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and suppress his dirty thought of you. 
“Woah I’m surprised you didn’t see her! She was practically pushing her tits out of her very tiny top to try and get out of this paper…. practically had all the guys drooling,” you huffed. You’d always been quite jealous of Jennifer. She could literally get any guy she wanted and could always get out of these stupid papers. It was irritating to people like you who tried their very hardest in their schoolwork and seem to go zero appreciation for it, when all jenny does is gossip, do her obnoxiously babyish laugh and pop a tit, therefore having the whole classroom wrapped around her finger. It was pathetic.
“Nah, guess i don’t really care that much about her,” Chris was very aware of Jenny’s usual inappropriate behaviour, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you all through that class. He was sat near the back of the class, so he had a good view of his surroundings and could easily see you sat a few rows in-front of him, at the perfect angle so her couple see you left side perfectly. Chris simply couldn’t understand how anyone could pay attention in that class knowing that you were in there, not jenny but you. 
Your short denim mini shirt that accentuated you ass and hips so perfectly and highlighting your legs. However, to keep yourself warmer and seem more modest, you through a knitted sweater over the top, making Chris’s eager to rip it off and see what you hid beneath the layers of warm wear. God, if there was nobody else in that classroom, he would not hesitate you lift you up on the desk and kiss up your legs to your perfect thighs and up your body. He would make sure to take perfect care of you, bring his lips underneath your sweater and bring his hand to you perfectly round and covered tits. 
Full, he could barely take it anymore. He could feel his harder member quickly growing underneath his get sweats, but he didn’t want to stop. No… he couldn’t stop himself.
“Huh, thats surprising, i could’ve sworn that the guys next to me literally had dribble on his chin, it was crazy.” You laughed. 
Fuck that laugh. Chris brought his hand up to his crotch and felt where he had grown harder just thinking of you. He began to palm himself, trying to relieve the growing soreness between his legs. 
"We should get started now." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I you barely understood what was going on it that class."
"Uh, yeah." Chris coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What did you want to start with?" 
You voice begins to drift into an explanation of what was said at the beginning of the class, only worded in a simpler way, yet Chris could barely take in any of this information. You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Chris furrows his own for an entirely different reason. 
He continues to palm his dick through his pants while your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants beneath his hand. Christ, i can’t actually be doing this right now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, quickly responding to what you were saying with a hum and an "ah, that makes makes more sense." 
Chris doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much breathier, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, teasingly licking at his cock, as your devious eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head. 
“So thats basically the first part,” you continued to explain, unaware and completely oblivious to Chris’s hand rubbing at himself on the other end of the line.  
He won’t do more. He can’t, this is just so wrong of him Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak, and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy. His breathing had grown heavier, but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions. 
“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask, feeling as if Chris wasn’t getting everything he needed out of your words. He had to spare a glance at his incomplete work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need. 
His cock was now rock hard, it was torturous. His mind began to glaze over with lustful thought of you “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling his cock, which was now leaking with drops of pre-cum and the tip was a bright rosy, red, much like his cheeks.
He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you edge him and make sure he’s extremely overstimulated as you milk him dry. Chris’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm. His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Chris becomes lost in your tone as his cock twitches. 
“Chris?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure. 
“Yeah?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling. 
“Are you…okay?” 
Your question makes him halt, much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”
“You sound… i don’t know, out of breath?” You say, behind the line trying to think of why.
“Really, you think?” He hums with a small smirk on his face enjoying the uncertainty in your tone and how innocent you mind must have been.  You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Chris’s lips. You had to be mistaken, as it had almost sounded like one full of pleasure that could have only been as a result of one thing... 
Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…
“Chris.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again.  
“What are you doing?” 
Chris curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying obviously. Being tutored s-so well... by you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s wanting to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm, attempting to stop himself from stuttering his words, but he just couldn’t help it. 
“You’re sure you’re good?” You asked unconvinced, as a small smirk rose to your lips.
“No. No, I’m all good, i swear.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly begun to stroke himself again, his cock angry. 
“Ah huh, yeah…okay,” you knew what you were going to do, this was going to be fun. “Did i tell you how good you looked today?”
Chris’s eyes opened, looking at his phone slightly trying to keep a steady pace of his raging cock but if you were going down this road of compliments, he probably wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.
“Uh, n-no,” he stutters pathetically, somehow unaware of the game you were playing. 
“Well, you did, your hair…wow. I could just run my hands through it! How do you always get it looking so soft?” You paused momentarily, hearing Chris’s surprised whimper. “Sorry thats kind of a goofy thing to say…sorry.” You were basically just teasing him now, the basic matters of the studying gone.
“I- no i don’t think its goofy. a-at all…” his words are broken up by that heaving panting.
“God. really? You’re so sweet chris…wow,” You hum, making Chris’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke. 
“R-really?” His eyelids began to feel heavy again, wanted nothing more but to see the darkness and use it as a canvas to paint his dirty images of you in his mind. 
“Yeah, i mean you’re the literal sweetest” you hum lightly, “you always make sure i havea seat in class, you listen to me when i speak and when i help you i study, you defend me in-front of your friends! You’re so sweet! Such a sweet, good boy for me” you were practically grinning at this point.
Chris could have sworn that your words could have sent him spiralling over the edge.“I a-am?” He asked, almost to clarify that this was real, that you were actually saying this to him.
“Well of course, and you’re always so busy as well, yet you always make time for me in your busy schedule. You must be stressed a lot of the time. I could always help you…relax sometime, relieve some of your…tension.” You had lowered your voice now in order to have a more seductive tone to your voice now.
Chris chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My tension…?”
“I mean, yeah… i could alway give you a massage, rub you down, you know I’ve been told I am very good at giving…massages.” It was becoming blatantly obvious what you were doing now but Chris must’ve been blinded and in a lustful haze because he still seemed to be completely oblivious to what you were doing. Continuously pumping his dick eagerly and chasing his release.
The thought of you sat on top of him, rubbing all down him in order to relax him was definitely doing the opposite effect and only working him up more. Fuck. He had almost come from the thought of you taking care of him. the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm.
“You’d do that for me?” Chris whined, only imaging what else you would do for him almost sent him over the edge.
“Of course, i would baby, you would tell me where it feels good before i drag my hands down your body…” Chris let out a pathetic whimper at not only the simple thought but at the nickname as well. Baby? Baby??! Oh, my lord he was going absolutely feral at this point, “however, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.” 
Chris moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?” 
“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be, okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable— “
“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.” 
You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear chris’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.” 
Chris nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?” 
“Yeah, is that okay?” 
“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release. 
“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making chris’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.” 
At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.” 
“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through chris’s body. 
“W—what?” 
“Come to my place, i know yours is always super hectic.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm. 
“Fuck…yeah that sounds good, i-if you’re happy then s-so am i…” he was no biting his own lip so hard he could’ve sworn he was drawing some blood. He now had his back so far arched up off of his bed and was practically fucking up into his own hand. 
“See, again, you are alway thinking…of me,” oh he was definitely thinking of you, thats for sure, “you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you. He watched as the white strings of cum coated and stained his dark shirt. 
“Fuck” he let out a relieved groan, now not even hiding the action that he had just did. 
“Maybe next time we study i should just jerk you off instead,”
Chris’s eyes widened at what you had said, before realising how blatantly obvious what he was doing was. You giggled once again hearing Chris’s heavy breathes, pleased to know that it was you who had pushed him over the edge. 
“Fuck, you can do whatever you want to me,” Chris let out with a deep breathe. 
Oh, you certainly would…
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
A/n : thank you so much for reading, this is literally my 3rd time trying to post this because I keep making mistakes 😭😭I really hope you enjoy and if there are any more mistakes pls lmk
ily my angels 💞 (especially @gamermattsgf)
4K notes · View notes
zg0nuwa · 1 year
Text
𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 ; “𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬”
Tumblr media
had this silly little thought where you ask miguel a bunch of questions about the multiverse
miguel o’hara x gn!reader
warnings ; this is stupid, miguel is confused, mentions of pregnancy/having a kid, my spanish knowledge is below zero so i used google (feel free to correct me)
Tumblr media
“ what did you just ask me? ”
“ i asked what would happen if two people - ” you were pestering miguel with questions about the multiverse for the past hour or so. at first it was a basic conversation regarding what were canon events and how are they established, how the portals work and all the other boring stuff.
“ i heard you the first time. just- where did you get that question from? ”
“ don’t tell me you’ve never wondered how it would work if for example we were to have a kid. like, we’re from different universes. i’m just curious what would happen to the kid in this predicament. ” if you were anybody else he would probably just glare at you and go on with his work but due to your position in his heart he just stood there, absolutely mortified at the example you just provided.
in all honesty you weren’t even that much into the topic but being able to bother miguel just a little and watch him scrunch up his nose whenever you mentioned something that would probably classify you as mentally deranged was your favorite hobby.
“ dios por favor dame fuerza*. no, actually i’ve never thought about that. also that example was really uncalled for. ” he thanked his past self for making the office so dimly lit. if it was any brighter in here he’s 97% sure you would be able to see how his neck and ears go all red.
“ so you admit you don’t know what would happen? ”
“ sí, ahora ¿podemos cambiar el tema?* ”
“ okay, okay… there’s actually one more thing i was curious about. ” miguel only sighed and looked at you with an unimpressed expression.
“ should i be scared? ” at this point he had no idea what to expect, in fact he kinda expected anything. and his imagination was not helping him. you looked up at him with those big pleading eyes that at the same time were full of mischief.
“ if, for example, we were to start dating, would that make me you know… kind of a pedophile..? ” there was an awkward silence and the look he had was to be described only with the sentence “what the fuck”
“ what on god’s green earth are you talking about? ”
“ i mean, you’re from year 2099 right? and im from 2023 in my universe. so that would kind of suggest that technically i would be in my 40s or 50s when you were born right? that just… kind of weird to think about i guess? ”
that, he did not expect in any of his wildest scenarios.
“ i’m going to lose my fucking mind. ” he slumped forward hiding his face in his hands.
“ aw come on miguel! it’s a genuine problem i’m thinking about here! ”
Tumblr media
* god please give me strength
* yes, now can we change the subject?
10K notes · View notes
thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap
Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.
Word Count: 4k
Part 2: READ HERE
The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 
Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 
Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.
All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  
Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 
“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”
As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”
To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”
Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”
Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  
Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 
The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 
You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 
And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.
“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 
You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.
“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”
He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”
You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.
With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 
You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  
The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 
The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”
He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 
Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”
“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.
“Yes,” you confirm. 
Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.
Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.
The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.
Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  
It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”
Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.
Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.
Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 
How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?
The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.
You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 
That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 
The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 
And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.
You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.
The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 
Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 
Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 
Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 
Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.
“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”
It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 
By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 
You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.
“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.
Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 
Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.
Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  
You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 
“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”
You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 
“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.
You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 
“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”
The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.
Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 
You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 
Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.
The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 
Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 
This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.
And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.
2K notes · View notes
alastorss · 2 months
Note
hii!, hope you have a nice day<3, could I request alastor with a VERY VERY ticklish reader? with like alastor giving a hug to reader and him figuring out they’re ticklish (and using it to his advantage, fluff too!♡︎)
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Alastor has tried everything he could think of, but your mood still hasn't improved.
He's resorted to the most humiliating scenario imaginable: knocking on Charlie's door and asking for her help while grinding his teeth. For you, he's swallowing his pride.
There's no discernible reason for you to be upset, nor has the Radio Demon been successful in finding a way to make your terrible crying stop.
You might as well plunge your hand into his chest and squeeze his heart until it stills. At least then he wouldn't have to feel this horrible ache just looking at your tears.
"Did you offer them their favourite food?"
"Of course I did."
Charlie thinks for a moment, hand on her chin. The Princess of Hell has a whole whiteboard of ideas going on how to make you feel better.
"How about hot chocolate? Hot chocolate always makes me feel better!"
"I don't think that's quite—"
"Oh! I know! What about singing a song? That always makes us feel better!"
Alastor's head tilts. While that was true, he's not sure the sentiment would exactly carry over.
"I... don't think so, my dear."
Finally, after filling the board with countless ideas and subsequently crossing them off, Charlie sighs and flops onto the couch next to him. "I give up. If only they could be cured with your hugs or something."
"... Hugs?"
Deathly silence fills the air as the Princess stares at him blankly.
"You... did try that, right?"
Alastor's ears twitch in lieu of an answer.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
You've decided to hole up in your room again.
For whatever reason, it annoys Alastor. He hasn't been able to see your face all day, and as ridiculous as it sounds, he's become quite attached to you.
He doesn't bother knocking, instead opting to slip through the crack of your door in shadows and materializing beside your bed with a dimming smile.
You don't seem to stir at his sudden appearance, apparently used to his shenanigans.
"What do you want?" You murmur miserably from under your blankets, which are coiled up around you while you wallow.
"Come now, darling. It's a beautiful day in Hell! Why don't you join me for a stroll?"
He perches himself on the edge of your bed as you groan and pull the sheets tighter to your body.
"Go away, Al."
"Why, you've been absolutely pitiful, my dear. What's gotten you so down?" Reaching over, he peels the blankets away from your face so he can finally look at you.
There's a familiar throbbing ache of his heart when he sees your tears. When you don't answer, he sighs.
"Would a hug help?" He asks, trying not to cringe. He holds his arms open with a shaky smile. You blink at him with wide eyes.
"... Really?"
He hesitates, but then your eyes sparkle with the tiniest bit of wonder and happiness, so he surrenders. "Hurry and come here before I change my mind."
You shuffle across the bed, abandoning all your blankets and pillows in the process. After you've shed the layers, you slot into his arms.
At first he's stiff as a board, awkwardly patting your back. But then you relax in his arms, melting against him. Smile softening, he pulls you closer into his chest and squeezes.
Giggle.
Alastor's eyes fly open. Jerking back, he looks at you in bewilderment.
"Is something wrong?"
"N-No!" You exclaim, slithering away from him.
"Are you... ticklish?" He asks, amused by your flustered expression.
"I'm not!" You lie through your teeth, squirming to put some distance between your bodies.
"Really, now~?"
He suddenly lunges at you, enveloping you again in his hold and purposefully poking at you with his fingers. You burst out into a fit of giggles, writhing to get away from him.
"Al!" You shriek with laughter. Shoving him away, you finally have a moment to catch your breath while you wipe away the tears gathering in your eyes.
Alastor reaches out, gentle this time, thumbs pulling at your smile. He admires it softly. As much as he hates to admit it, just seeing your face lit up fills him with relief.
"That's more like it, darling. Show me your lovely smile."
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda (send an ask to be added!)
1K notes · View notes
aballadforbarbatos · 3 months
Text
diavolo makes a pact with you
well, you never know
once upon a time, he brought it up to lucifer and barbatos
they shot him down immediately
receiving a lecture is bad enough but imagine receiving one from BOTH lucifer and barbatos
rip
he takes it like a champ tho. he’s way better than me cause i hate getting told off
years pass
the devil’s pudding event happens. diavolo almost learns his lesson that day.
like he says he has but there’s a lot of times where that memory crosses his mind and he sits there like huh. wish that could happen again
YOU learnt the lesson though, so it’ll NEVER happen again
if he brings it up on his birthday there’s a good chance you will look at him with disdain
he’s catching up on paperwork when something crosses his mind
maybe you’d be more into it if you had a pact with him?
the lecture he got from his two closest friends though was pretty awful though
but…
what if it was in secret?
what if, and he’s just throwing out ideas here, he gave lucifer a ton of work and made barbatos go on holiday and summoned you to his castle?
hypothetically.
you know, a will-never-happen scenario.
barbatos appears at his door soon after that.
“hey, barbatos. what did you need?”
“oh… nothing. i just got a bad feeling, that’s all.”
oops
another year goes by and the idea pops into his head again, about the same time as he sees you cuddling up with mammon
Right.
diavolo’s situation and this isn’t even remotely the same, because you don’t need a pact to cuddle and mammon is your first so he’s on a separate level altogether, but he chooses to ignore these details
it’s barbatos’ birthday. he gets sent off. hearing complaints, diavolo threatens him with two weeks
lucifer weirdly gets hit with a ton of work randomly. damn that’s crazy huh. do your best!!!
and you are summoned to the castle. you also get a bad feeling.
he tries to convince you that having a pact with him is a good idea
(some people are normal about this; i am not and wouldn’t need convincing personally)
you refuse.
if you bring this up to lucifer if he asks about your visit he is so screwed
ah, but maybe he could make you his unwilling partner in crime…?
pulls a lucifer and forces it on you. suddenly you have a big fancy mark around your neck.
he’s pretty proud of it. you cover your face with your hands and go oh my god.
it feels like it could be exasperation but he would really prefer for it to not be that
lucifer asks what diavolo wanted you for and you weakly say it was for new clothes. new clothes that conveniently hide your collarbone
all of this is unraveled when someone (mammon) walks in on you getting dressed and screams bloody murder about the weird MARK on your neck
pacts are permanent and so is diavolo getting lectured
2K notes · View notes
forbidden-sunlight · 5 months
Text
yandere! literary agent with fem!reader scenario
Tumblr media
warnings: implication of obsessive thoughts or love.
There might be potential triggers in this story. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant.
You are responsible for your Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another yandere fic, introducing Yulian Prescott. I'd like to give a big shout-out to my dear friend @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me write this and finding the perfect likeness for my character, especially when this idea came to me all of a sudden on a Sunday night when I should be sleeping instead of staying up an ungodly hour.
As always, bullying on here will not be tolerated. If it does happen, this scenario will be taken down. I'm not sure if this will be a series. At the moment, this is just a scenario.
With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into the cutthroat world of publishing.
PART TWO
Yandere!Literary Agent is a man who prides himself on being very good at his job. He represented one of the best publishing houses in the country. Anything less than what he expected from his clients was unacceptable.  
If the manuscript arrived in his inbox exactly two minutes past the promised deadline, he would not look at it. If his client is acting like a stupid moron at a function or royally fucking up their reputation by posting something inappropriate on their social media account, he is not cleaning up their mess. He is not their babysitter. They are full-grown adults. And if one of them is not able to produce another book that will actually sell past the number of copies slated to be printed, he will let them go. Call him cruel if you want. Yandere!Literary Agent is simply being pragmatic. He wasn’t cheap. He only wants the best of the best.
So imagine Yandere!Literary Agent’s surprise when a particularly difficult client sent him a completed manuscript. He planned on writing her an email that after much deliberation, it was time for her to find another agent to represent her. The client, Abigail Crowley, had written an adult dark academia trilogy and a feminist retelling of the myth of Theseus, told from the perspective of his lover Adriane. The manuscripts following the conclusion of her last book, however, were complete shit. Her royalties were nearly gone, having squandered them on a penthouse in a high-end neighborhood, the latest clothes, and a wine fridge. You heard him. A fucking wine fridge when she could have replaced that shoddy laptop of hers with something better so she could keep writing books and not have it crap out on her. 
Half-amused and half-annoyed at this pathetic attempt to keep her contract with the publishing company from being null and void, Yandere!Literary Agent clicked on the attachment and read it. One page became four, then fifty. He had to force himself to stop when it was lunchtime and he was already at the mid-way point. 
This story, it was…good. No, it was more than good. It was absolutely fantastic. And Yandere!Literary Agent did not compliment his clients’ works very often, which meant he believed at this very moment, this manuscript will most definitely become Abigail’s comeback to the literary industry. Book sales would go through the roof, A Netflix deal was also possible. But the first hurdle he had to overcome was pitching the manuscript, and making sure the query letter was at least consistent with the story that Abigail was trying to sell to him.
And he’ll make it happen. He is very good at his job, after all. 
Once he had successfully pitched it with a bit of extra charm, he contacted Abigail. She was over the moon, promising to make any necessary edits to the manuscript and it will be sent to him on time. From there, time fast forwarded. ARC books were sent out, Abigail selected the cover designs for the regular and special editions, and a tentative book tour was scheduled. Seven cities, and one international trip, maybe another in the future. Sales for this book were projected to exceed expectations. Yandere!Literary Agent was very confident things would go smoothly from here. At least he had thought so.
A month before the book was to be published, his secretary knocked on his door and said he had a visitor. They insisted on seeing him. Yandere!Literary Agent raised his brow, rising from his desk and stepping out into the hall and saw you. 
In the beginning, he will begrudgingly confess that his first impression of you was someone who is painfully average and out of place. A backpack slung over your shoulder, dressed in navy blue medical scrubs and looking absolutely haggard. Your eyes, though, shined with anxiety and determination. You inclined your head. 
“I apologize for the sudden intrusion, I know you’re busy, but I have some concerns about the book that’s going to be released soon by Abigail Crowley.” 
Yandere! Literary Agent’s gaze sharpened.. “And what, pray tell, are your complaints?” He crossed his arms. “Are you one of the people who had signed up to be ARC reader and didn’t get their copy?” 
You raised an eyebrow. “...No?”
“Then why -”
“Because it is my novel that is being published. Without my consent.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, I get it.” You then swung your backpack around to your front, unzipping the larger compartment. You pulled out a large notebook, some papers, and a flash drive. You held them out to him. “But I think what I have here might convince you to allow me ten minutes, if not five, to hear me out. That’s all I’m asking. This isn’t about money, this isn’t about suing your company. I just want my story back. I’ve already tried talking to Abigail about it, and she isn’t picking up my calls. Please.” You said. “Three minutes.” 
His schedule was clear until the two o’clock meeting with another client on the other side of town. That was about an hour and half from now, as he had just come back from lunch. He supposed he could give you three minutes. Rolling his eyes, Yandere!Literary Editor swiveled on his heel. 
“Let’s see what you have. Melissa, please hold my calls until I’m done.” His diligent secretary nodded and went back to her desk. You followed him like a lost little duckling back to his office. Once the door was closed, you handed him everything. 
Yandere!Literary Editor went over the materials carefully, flipping through the pages of the notebook. The outlines and character designs were here, all written in excruciating detail and in such tiny print. He asked you random questions, going off of his memory from the manuscript and these notes. You answered him without hesitation.
“Yes, that’s correct. What? No, absolutely not. I would never have those characters be romantically paired up! Their relationship is too toxic, and wouldn’t set a good example to the target audience. I’m sorry, what? No, that isn’t her name! It’s Cristabel, not Anastasia! She’s supposed to be assisting the Night Emperor with collecting intelligence via the gossip of salons under her alias, not swooning over his brother when he’s already happily married to his wife! Good God, no. That scene should not even be there! That’s filler content and makes the character growth of the protagonist seem like the pay-off wasn’t worth it, or that he didn’t learn anything at all since the beginning of the book!” 
Yandere!Literary Agent grounded the molars of his back teeth, inhaling slow, deep breaths through his nostrils. Keeping his emotions in check is one of the reasons why he has survived in the publishing industry for this long, and he’s such a successful man. 
But hearing you speak about the characters, perfectly recalling the manuscript’s themes and looking back at the notebook in his hand, seeing the colorful  sticky notes with edits and improvised scenes written on them…he couldn’t deny it any further. You were the real author of the book he’s representing, and Abigail Crowley played him like a goddamned fiddle.
 If this wasn’t enough damning evidence of his client’s plagiarism, you had shown him an original illustration of the world you had created. It was done by an artist you had commissioned on Etsy, with proof of purchase for their services and a timestamp. Three years ago. That was when Abigail’s last best-selling book hit the shelves, and when her creative well began to dry out. 
You must have caught on to his irritation, because you told him that you weren’t here to intentionally stir up any trouble. A coworker had told you about Abigail’s newest book coming out, and the premise was exactly yours, at least what was advertised in the BookTok and Youtube trailers online. You’ve been searching high and low for your manuscript, and the only other person who has been in your apartment and knew about your creative endeavors has been Abigail. She wasn’t really your friend, per say. You took some of the same creative writing courses. You eventually found another career to pursue, and you kept writing as a hobby. She went on to become a professional author and never missed an opportunity to show off her success whenever she invited you out for drinks at an upscale bar or went to fancy dinners. 
Why would Abigail steal the book you’ve been working on for three years when you work a full-time day job, you had no idea. She’s living the dream that she’s always wanted, defying her mother’s wishes to get a normal job because writing is everything to her, and she would never give up on it. But if you were to be hypothetical, it might be another attempt to somehow get one up on her self-proclaimed rival, Cindy Chen, who is an even bigger success than her. 
You then rubbed your eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” You murmured, standing up from your seat. “Keep the notebook, the maps, whatever you want. If you could return them to me when you’re done, that’s all I ask. And an apology from Abigail, if you’re able to get one out of her. Like I said, this isn’t about money, royalties, or fame. I just want my story back.” 
Yandere!Literary Agent immediately stood up, his eyes slightly widened in fear. “Wait, please, just a moment! I know you’re tired, you want to go home…but I need to set things right. If I had known that this manuscript, your story, had been stolen, I would have never spearheaded its  publication.” And he wouldn’t have. Not only would it affect his reputation, but the company’s too. Stocks would plummet, and there would be a feeding frenzy on social media with #abigailcrowley, #plagiarism, #sailboatpublishinghouse. 
When you looked at him, his heart lurched uncomfortably at seeing your lips fall into a crestfallen expression. You looked so tired, so done with everything, and oh god you looked like you were about to cry shit. Walking around his desk, Yandere!Literary Agent eased you to sit back down and quickly prepared an espresso, possessing a machine to make it in his office so he did not have to walk down five flights to the break room. 
You thanked him for the drink and took a sip, wrinkling your nose slightly, no doubt surprised at the taste. You must not be a regular espresso drinker, or prefer how you made it. Either way, he was grateful that you did not bolt out of the office. Picking up his office phone, he dialed Melissa’s number. 
“Call all of the heads, including the marketing and social media departments. This is an emergency meeting. Now!” Bless Melissa, she did not ask him questions and said she would get on it immediately, hanging up on him. The next person he called was Abigail fucking Crowley. He sweet-talked her into coming to the office, apologizing for interrupting her ‘creativity time’ and promised it won’t take long. She swore to be there in a half an hour, so long as traffic didn’t back up. Yandere!Literary Agent played the understanding card and hung up, his smile being replaced with a smirk. Hook, line, and sinker. He scoffed. He then turned to you. 
“Everything will be resolved soon.” He promised. 
“Sir -” You began. 
“Yulian, please.” 
“Mister Yulian, I understand that you want to make things right, but…can you really get Abigail to talk? She blocked my calls, and the book is hitting the shelves in a month, maybe less than that? How are you going to recover the money that has gone into getting it published, the fees for the printing companies, and the marketing? Correct me if I’m wrong, I’m not too familiar with how publishing works these days.” 
You weren’t wrong, at least in the aspect that the company has put a significant amount of money into the publication of the stolen manuscript, your work, he added mentally. It was too late to stop the printing, and the final draft would need a significant amount of changes. Unless…
“Abigail is a plagiarist, and you are the rightful creator. The way I see it, we can salvage the financial loss by putting your name on the cover, and fixing the glaring omissions as well as other scenes you claim shouldn’t even be there.” He sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Of course, we would need to have a press conference and explain why we are changing authors, and what she has done. Considering the timetable and coordinating with the printing companies, it will be cutting it close.” 
You stared at him silently for a long moment before placing the espresso cup back onto the tiny saucer with a soft clink, releasing a heavy sigh. “If I agree to do this, to help with the edits, probably fuck up my sleeping pattern and might potentially be fired from my job unless I can use some of my PTO, what will I get in return?” 
He smiled. “Abigail will be the one to pay for publishing and marketing fees. I can extend the deadline for the revisions by a week. And you will be paid for your time, of course. There will be no need to come here to drop off revisions either. All correspondence will be through email. As an agent, I am qualified to be your representative during press conferences, so you will not have to be present. All I would ask of you is to turn in the final manuscript on time and not say anything on social media until our legal team is fully prepared.”
“No need to worry about Twitter or Facebook. Haven’t logged  on to my account in years.” You raised the espresso cup to your lips. “Too much politics.” You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled frown stretching across your face. “Any chance I could get all of this in writing? I might need to get a lawyer if Abigail tries to take it to court and sue me for defamation.” 
Yandere!Literary Agent nodded. He opened up a blank document and immediately typed up the contract, including everything that you have discussed and a few other variables. Once he finished, he printed it out, handing it to you. You read through the contents carefully before handing it back to him.
“It looks good - it’s all here and I’m agreeable to the terms.” You said.
Humming under his breath, Yandere! Literary Agent signed the bottom. You signed your name next to his, with today’s date and the time. 
He ignored the tiny tingle that crawled up his spine when your fingertips brushed against his as you gave him back the pen. You agreed to stay until the matter with Abigail was over, and he would email you the manuscript so you could go through everything when you get home. 
As it turned out, you did not have to wait much longer for the best-selling author to make her entrance at Board Room 3. Exchanging numbers with Yandere! Literary Agent you would wait in the adjacent room until he sent you a text to make your entrance. Melissa escorted you to said room when he received a message from Abigail that she would be here in ten minutes. 
It’s time. That was the message he sent you. When you opened the door, revealing yourself to the staff and the flustered Abigail…she snapped. 
She rambled how she needed a book, just one more successful book, and she would be set for life. She wouldn’t lose her penthouse, she would still be considered a worthy rival to Cindy Chen, and above all else, she could still write as she had always wanted to do since she was a teenager. You already had a normal job, you had a steady income, you weren’t even a writer. Being a hobbyist writer did not count. Yes, she took your manuscript, but it wasn’t a big deal! You could just write another book when you had time between shifts at the hospital, right? 
The look you gave her…it was resignation. Hopelessness. Disappointment. 
“Abbie…it wasn’t just a story I wrote. You should know that. Writing is so much more than that. I’ve tried to be nice, to talk to you but you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry it’s come to this, I really am.” You said. That was the last thing you said before you were escorted outside of the door. Seeing your part in this is over, Yandere! Literary Agent took control of the room. 
“Whether it is a hobby or professional writing, it doesn’t change the fact that you stole someone’s work and tried to pass it off as your own.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You are a thief, nothing more and nothing less.” Then the lawyers approached Abigail, presenting her with the fees she will need to pay. If there was an issue, going to court would not be an issue as he had all of the evidence needed to ruin the once best-selling writer Abigail Crowley. 
Her reaction was….amusing. 
After security had escorted the screaming woman off of the premises, Yandere!Literary Agent went to search for you, thinking you had gone back to his office to wait for him. You weren’t there. Melissa said you did stop by her desk, only to leave a message on a sticky note that you needed to go home but promised to get the revisions done as fast as you could, and thanks for the espresso it was really good. 
Yandere!Literary Agent smiled softly at the hastily written chicken scratch, pocketing it in his trousers before going back inside his office. You weren’t like any of his other clients. And he would like to get to know a bit more. Who knows? Perhaps….he could persuade you to sign a contract with him, be your agent. You shouldn’t hide your talents from the world. There were people who would love to read your stories, and he had no doubt that the company would benefit from it too. 
But there was no need to rush. There was a month until the book was to be released. That was more than enough time for him to work his magic. He is good at his job, after all. 
Taglist
@impeakcharacterdesign
@faesdreaming
@faux-ecrivain
@majestichugs
@abelheilonwife
@suiana
@lxdymoon0357
@dxmoness
@tired-of-life-86
@imperfectbloodmoon
@lovely-nightmares
@yandere-dark-cupid
@beardedblizzardexpert
@d10nsaint
@likesugarandcyanide
@justcressida
@mooly-artistic
@cassanderasblog
@swallowtailcherry
@amidst-the-tempest
@usernames-are-so-hard-to-create
@navierkalani
@yanderefangirl
©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024
2K notes · View notes