#i'm either staring a blank page

[felixvanhuss]

Oh the depression is hitting REALLY hard today

[loves4ge]

tattoo artist!au, cw: partial nudity, mdni

choso can feel his heart stutter in his chest, bumping against his ribcage. god, who just walked in? the pen he's using to draw in his tablet clatters to the ground, though he can't be bothered to pick it up because he is too busy staring at you.

oh, you, with your lovely little dress hitching near the middle of your thigh. strappy sandals and painted nails, you have him hooked. the parlor is dimly lit and smells of ink and paper and alcohol. the kind that's used for cleaning wounds and not the one that you get drunk on with your friends on friday nights. he doesn't even hear your words and you have to repeat them.

"sorry, what did you say?" he sounds out of breath despite not doing any physical exertion. and you grin, that smile would put the sun to shame.

"that's alright. i wanted to get a tattoo but i wasn't sure if you accepted walk-ins?" you trail off towards the end in an inquiring tone. you know that they don't. it's their pinned post on social media.

he does not accept walk-ins. "sure we do, what do you have in mind?"

your eyes brighten, grinning even wider, and choso thinks he might just die and go to heaven right now. he can't stop glancing at you when you show him the designs on your phone.

"where do you want it done?" he asks at the end, opening a blank page on his tablet to finalize a design. you can't help but observe him, leaning over the counter, hair in two twin ponytails and eyeliner done to perfection.

"i was thinking my hip? like if i wore a bikini, i want the tattoo to be partially obscured by the bikini bottoms." choso thinks he may as well have short-circuited with the speed his brain is malfunctioning. you notice his delayed response and almost cooed. he's shy.

this isn't the first time a client has asked for a tattoo in a risqu�� position, and he's never batted an eye at nudity either. but he's entirely unsure of himself when you strip down to your panties (you ended up taking off the short dress, though you did wear a cami underneath it), and he's thinking maybe he does have a problem with nudity after all (most people call this problem an erection, but choso's not that crude).

"you're gonna have to pull it aside, or i can cut it off." he doesn't specify which part, and now your eyes widen.

swallowing thickly, you ask, "what do you mean?" you know what he means, but you sort of hope he meant something else.

"the side of your underwear, we can just cut a slit—oh," he understands what his previous sentence sounded like when he sees your face contort into disbelief and then promptly dissolve into relief.

he doesn't look at you directly, "sorry, i don't know why i said that. it's, oh god, sorry to make you uncomfort—" he's cut off by your words of understanding.

"it's my fault really. i swear i'm not uncomfortable. really, choso." oh, the money he'd pay to hear his name leave your lips again.

"…if you say so. i'll use the scissors now, if that's okay?" you nod, smiling to encourage him. god knows he needs no encouragement to cut off your panties. there's silence in the parlor except for the sound of fabric being cut. he hands you a small towel to cover whatever you need to, but you just place it to the side. you know what you're doing. choso isn't sure if you're an angel or the devil.

he makes sure his ponytails aren't loose and puts on some nitrile gloves, black like his hair. you're wondering if you should break the silence, make some small talk, put the boy out of his misery, or just let the tension simmer.

"i really like the face tattoo thing you've got going on." he snaps up to look at you, then immediately reddens. his fingers hover above the black stripe across his face.

"yeah?"

"mhm." you lift your hand, thumbing his cheek where the tattoo ends. he's still the entire time.

you'd be the death of him.

with careful hands, he sanitizes the part of your hip where the tattoo would go on. he may have taken a little bit longer than usual, his fingertips pressing into your skin with the thin layer of an alcohol wipe acting as a barrier. your skin is soft, and he wants to grip your hips more actively. without the façade of a tattooist doing his job.

you're not feeling calm anymore, and in a sudden fit of unadvised decision-making, you grab choso's wrist (this choice was not peer-reviewed by your groupchat, but at the moment you find it in yourself that you don't really care). he startles but doesn't say anything.

"i'm nervous," you murmur. he instantly softens, melts, and reaches out to grab your shoulder in a sort of platonic 'i'm there for you' way. you're not planning to be platonic.

"that's alright lovely, everybody gets nervous before tattoos. it's more common than you think. would you like water?" his voice is soothing, and the way his lips move. you know what you need. you know what would calm you down.

"i know another way we can get rid of my nerves."

"mm, how so?"

"kiss me."

he almost chokes. he looks at your dead serious expression.

he is so fucked.

[bvbygrl-writes]

Wrong House

Pairing: Stu Macher x Nerdy!Reader x Billy Loomis

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: A step into wrong house leads to a night of the right fun.

A/N: I was not supposed to upload this tonight but I'm too excited about it. I'm not proof reading this long ass shit either so if something is spelled wrong use your imagination to fix it, mwuah! <3

Warnings: reader has afab anatomy breaking and entering, knife play, homoerotic themes (they kiss but nothing more than that), mentions of murder, eiffel towering, loss of virginity, coercion and ultimatums, rope bandage, panty kink, and panty sniffing.

THIS FIC IS 18+!!! MINORS / ACCOUNTS WITHOUT AGE DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED WITH NO WARNING BUT THIS ONE.

(Y/n) was naturally an anxious girl but, with her parents out of town and the string of murders happening, she was on edge. She had every single light on in the house, the downstairs tv on, anything to make it seem as though the house was full of life. The reporters on the radio had told people to stay together and while most of the students in school had that option, she didn���t. Nobody wanted to be friends with the quiet girl who still wore Care Bear sweaters and could recite Star Trek lines from memory.

Nibbling the end of her pencil, she let out an exasperated sigh. She had been staring at the same math problem in her textbook for a good 45 minutes. “Focus, (Y/n/n), focus. If you do end up living through all of this, you’ll want to get into a good college.If you fail, mom and dad will make you wish you were dead.” she said out loud to herself, a sad laugh falling from her lips. At that same moment, her stomach began to grumble. When was the last time she ate? Reaching for the phone, she dialed the number to her favorite chinese food place. She loved it because the food was cheap and they were one of the only places that delivered something other than pizza after 10PM. 

“Alright, thank you!” she said, placing the phone back on the receiver. It’d be about a 20 minute wait, giving her time to focus more on her work. Sighing she sat back down in front of her textbook, staring at the page until the numbers started to blur together. “Well, that’s enough of that! I should get the money for the delivery driver seeing as it’ll be here in…” glancing at the clock on her wall she sighed, “Twenty minutes.” ignoring that face, she stood up, bunny slippers stomping over the carpeted floor to the piggy bank on her dresser. She pulled out a 10 dollar bill along with a 5 for the tip. But before (Y/n) could even get to her door, she heard a noise at the front door. 

“Th-that’s weird. There’s still nineteen minutes an-” she shrieked at the sound of the door bursting open. Every anxiety filled thought she had had since being home by herself was coming true. The blood drained from her face, her body growing light at the sound of the voices coming from the living room. Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes as she turned off the lights and closed her bedroom door. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs put in perspective just how real this all was. She silently cursed her dad for never fixing the damn lock on her window. She might’ve broken a few bones from jumping, but that’d be better than being completely dead! Looking around her room she made the decision to jump in her closet, closing the accordion door.

She became aware of how loudly she was breathing, clamping her hands over her mouth. Her body trembled with terror. ‘Is this how I die? Alone, never experiencing friendship or love?’ Was this really the time to be feeling sorry for her lack of social and love life? ‘Well to be fair, this may be one of the last times I’m able to feel anything whatsoever.’ The sound of her bedroom door opening instantly made her mind go blank. The girl felt as though she was having a heart attack and honestly? She would have preferred that to whatever death she was about to experience.

��Are you sure this is the right house? This doesn’t look like Chelsea’s room.” A male’s voice remarked, the lights flicking on. She could see through the small slots on the folding door that there were two men. One had dark hair and a knife in his hand. The other one was taller with blonde hair and a backpack with god knows what inside of it.

“Yeah, dude! This is 345 Avalee Lane.” the other one exclaimed, an almost sinister grin on his face. The dark hair one made a sound that was a mix of a growl and a sigh.

“You fucking idiot! Chelsea lives in 348, we’re in the wrong house!” he pinched the bridge of his nose, kicking over the little trash can near her desk across the room. (Y/n) relaxed a bit. Maybe since they weren’t looking for her they’d just leave?

“Well at least no one’s home, we can just get out of here.” The blonde one rasped out, eating a piece of candy off of her dresser before tossing the wrapper on the ground. ‘Rude’ she thought.

“The lights and the tv were on. Someone’s definitely in this house. I’m going to go check the other rooms and you look around this one a bit better. We can’t take any chances.” The brunette exited the room and in the distance he heard the sound of different doors being opened. 

The blonde one began to hum, snooping around her room. He walked over to her dresser, opening up her panty drawer. A smile grew on his face as he held up a pair of white ones with a pink lace trim, shoving them in the back pocket of his baggy jeans. “Cute.” he said to himself (or so he thought). Walking over to her bed, he tossed the covers back before bending down to check under the bed as well. Next, he walked over to the cupboard of her collectable figurines, opening up the door. “Hm.” he shrugged before beginning to exit the room. She removed her hands from her mouth, placing them on the floor beside her as she let her body relax. However, before he could leave, she could see a lightbulb go off in his brain as he turned around walking towards the closet. The girl’s eyes went wide as she shook her head. As he opened the closet door, she couldn’t even manage to make a sound. A look of surprise made its way onto his face before he began to grin. “You’ve got cute little undies. Hey Billy!”

All (Y/n) could do was sit there in shock. She recognized this boy, he was in her art classes although he rarely showed up. Now that she could really see his face, he was quite attractive. Before she could delve into why she was letting herself think that, the other one (who she assumed was Billy) appeared right next to him. Although he had a scowl on his face, he was just as attractive. ‘Well, you always said you wanted a cute guy to notice you. There’s two! But you should’ve been more specific, huh (Y/n/n)?’ 

“She’s kind of cute in a dorky little way, ain’t she?” Stu commented as Billy used his knife to lift her chin. She didn’t dare stop making eye contact with Billy for fear of what he might do with that knife the second she did. He tilted her face around, examining it from all sorts of angles before he chuckled.

“She is. (Y/n), right? You’re the girl that’s always winning those sciences awards at school. We have AP English together.” he said in a calm tone. This was the strangest thing she had ever experienced. Why were they dragging this on so much when they could just kill her and get it over with?

“M-mmm-mhm!” she stuttered out, nodding her head ever so slightly so she didn’t cut herself on the blade. 

“Although I agree with my friend here, you still find yourself to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. See, I’ve got a plan and if I let you live, there’s a big chance you’re going to blab and ruin it for me.” he said, his words coming out through gritted teeth towards the end. “So unfortunately, your time’s up.”

“No, no please! I-I-I won’t blab and tell! I don’t have any friends or anyone to tell I won’t tell please! I promise!” she sobbed, begging for her life as he pressed the knife against her neck harder. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, which would also explain the sensation happening between her legs. Fat tears continued to stream down her face. “I promise please there’s gotta be a way!” she continued to plead for her life, waiting for something, just anything to happen. Whatever it’d take for this situation to be over. However, she was surprised when the knife suddenly was no longer pressed to her neck. Looking up, she saw the blonde one’s hand had moved it away and he was whispering something into Billy’s ear. Their eyes kept flickering to parts of the room and then back to her before Billy gave a singular nod. 

“It seems my friend Stu here has taken quite a liking to you so here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to have a bit of fun with you and if we enjoy it, you live and we’ll be back to get you after we finish some…business. And if not, I’ll slit your throat right after we finish. Does that sound fair?” Billy said, tugging her from her sitting position to be in between the both of them. She nodded frantically, happy to have even a small chance of living. She knew they were probably going to kill her when they were done, but at least that moment was suspended for a bit longer.

“Wh-what do I need t-to do?” she asked, her heart racing as she looked up at the two of them. They were completely dwarfing her with their size, it was like being trapped between two incredibly hot trees. Stu grinned at her once again before stepping back a bit.

“Well you can start by stripping!” he instructed, phrasing it like a suggestion even though she knew it wasn’t. She nodded, taking off her cream colored sweater, sliding her Power Rangers pajama pants down right after. She began to hesitate slightly as now she was just in her slippers and underwear.

“Allow me.” Billy said, using his knife to snip off her bra. He started at the shoulder straps, taking a moment to stare at her breast before tearing the backband as well. She didn’t try to cover up, knowing her chances of survival would dwindle to none. He went to pull down her panties but Stu stopped him, shaking his head.

“Leave those on her.” he said, before getting down on his knees in front of her. Billy held her arms behind her back with one of his, peeking over the girl’s shoulders to see what his moronic friend had planned. What she didn’t expect was for him to bury his face into her underwear-clad pussy and sniff. Stu let out a low moan as he did, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to sniff at her front, his nose nudging her clit through the fabric. “God that’s amazing. Looks like she’s enjoying it too.” he said, rubbing his finger on the wet spot forming on her panties. He gently pressed his fingers against the fabric causing (Y/n) to squirm a bit, a gentle moan falling from her mouth.

“Oh, that’s such a pretty noise.” Billy purrs lowly in her ear. Standing from the floor, Stu lifts his fingers up to Billy’s mouth and without thinking, he opens it. The girl watches in awe, her clit beginning to throb at the way the two men were interacting with one another. Stu slowly pulls his fingers from the man’s mouth, biting his lip as the other man licks his. “Did you want a taste?” he asks in a deep tone. At the same time, they both lean over and begin to share a passionate and heated open mouth kiss. Little moans and grunts fall from them, a gasp falling from her own lips as Stu grips at her waist, beginning to grind against her front, his bulge slotted between her slit. Billy mimics his actions, grinding his cock against her ass. She was glad the two were holding her up, because at the current moment she wasn’t sure if her legs would work. This was a whole new world for her. She had never been kissed or even touched by one man let alone two. The noises falling from her mouth were completely out of her control, the sensation of their rhythmic rubbing along with the scene of them kissing above her was all too much for her to handle. 

As though they could hear her thoughts, they pulled away from their kiss, turning their attention back to her. She hadn’t even realized that the knife was completely gone now. If she wanted to, she could’ve ran and gotten away. If she wanted to. Billy gripped her arms once more, beginning to walk her over to the bed. She felt her face grow warm at the collection of stuffed animals, causing her to look at the ground. “They keep me warm at night.” she defended weakly. Stu laughed, cooing at her before picking one up and turning it to face the wall, repeating the action several times with the other one.

Billy groaned, annoyed. “Seriously?”

“What? I know how the girls get about that sort of thing.” As Stu continued with his antics, the brunette reached for his friend’s bag. (Y/n) eyed him curiously, thinking he had changed his mind on their deal but was relieved when all he pulled out was a bit of rope. Wait, rope? He tossed it up and down smirking at her before positioning himself behind her as he began to tie her hands together. ‘This is better than whatever they usually probably use this for.’ She tugged at the rope, the friction causing a mild irritation from the action. He pushed her a bit, causing her to fall forward onto the bed. Her ass was in the air while the upper part of her body fell down due to having no support. She listened to the sound of belts and pants clambering before feeling the bed dip down behind her. At that same time, a pair of legs kneeled in front of her as well. She felt as a hand carded it’s way through her hair before tightening, lifting her face to be eye level with a cock. Peering up, she saw that it was Billy.

“Are you gonna open up or am I going to have to do it for you?” he asked, causing a bit of panic to flash through the girl’s (e/c) eyes.

“S-sorry. I’ve never done any of this before.” she muttered, causing a whistle from behind her. She could imagine the grin on Stu's face.

“A cute virgin?! How lucky are we tonight? Oh this is going to be fun. I haven’t popped a cherry in quite a long time.” Stu gushed, rubbing his hands together. “I can barely contain myself!” her panties were then pulled to the side, long fingers beginning to rub all along her slick covered folds. She let out a whimper, her knees trembling as he began to rub circles on her clit. As he slid a finger in, her mouth fell open which Billy saw as the perfect opportunity. Gripping her hair a bit tighter, he began to slide his cock into her mouth slowly. He stared down at her face, watching as her mouth began to struggle with the girth of him, tears falling down her face.

“You better stop with all those tears, I really don’t wanna cum this early.” Billy teased, beginning to rock his hips back and forth. He hissed in pleasure at her tight and warm little mouth, tossing his head back as he let out a guttural moan. Behind her, Stu had managed to work the third finger in, stretching and scissoring them around.Gripping her hip with one hand, he used his other to glide his cock along her lips causing them to both moan. “Hurry up, I wanna pick up the pace but I’m trying to make it easier for you.”

“I’m going!” and with that, Stu slid his cock in with one swift motion. His grip on her hips tightened at the same time her walls did as he fell forward for a bit, head resting against the small of her back. “G-god, oh fuck! You’ve got a tight little pussy, huh?” he said through gritted teeth, beginning to pound into her at an almost animalistic pace. Her pussy drooled around his cock as she continued to moan around Billy, choking as he also picked up his pace. Their thrust were alternating. As Stu would pull his cock out some, Billy’s would enter her throat deep, barely giving her a chance to get used to anything. She had already came around his cock twice, the feeling being overwhelmingly pleasurable. 

They were using her like a doll, holding her up and angling her just right. All she could do was sob and take it, the only thing on her mind was their cocks and her life. She didn’t even care if she was going to die after this, this was the best thing she had ever experienced in her life. 

“You look so helpless when you cry. God, Stu I wish you could see her right now.” Billy moaned out, staring down into those wet (e/c) eyes. Picking up his pace, he gripped at her scalp, full on skull fucking her now. His thrust had grown sloppy and so had his counterpart’s. 

“Tr-trust me, my view is just as good. I’m cl-close!” he whined out, reaching a finger down to rub at the girl's sensitive and swollen clit. (Y/n) screamed around Billy’s cock sending him over the edge. Pulling out, he coated her face and hair in a load of sticky white cum. Watching Billy stroke his cock over her face pushed Stu over the edge as well, causing him to bounce her back on his dick, whimpering as he came deep inside of her. 

The room fell silent and as (Y/n) came to her senses, the question of the hour came back to haunt her. Was she going to live?

“Are you satisfied, Stu?”

“More than, man.”

“Well..” Billy trailed off, stepping off of the bed. As Stu pulled out, she felt cold and exposed. Both men stood behind her, staring as the load of cum began to roll down the back of her legs. The brunette reached forward, grabbing her wrist rather roughly before untying her. “I guess you live. We’ll be back. In the meantime, get cleaned up.” the sound of the doorbell ringing caused the two men to look out the window, thinking she had somehow managed to get in contact with help. However, they both relaxed at the sight of the delivery truck on the outside of the house. 

“Make sure you save me some chow mein!” Stu said. The girl rolled over on her back, letting out a breathless laugh watching as the two quickly got dressed. Before they headed for the bedroom door, Stu took her panties off of her, sticking them in the front pocket of his jeans. 

“For good luck!”

[shadowbriar]

Diego Hargreeves - Patches

Pairing : Diego Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.2k Warning : None. Notes : This might be the introduction of a story I'm working on. I cannot guarantee that I'll have the commitment to continue until it's end so don't have too much hope for this. I am open if you have any The Umbrella Academy requests at the moment, so do hit me up! If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

He got eight of them.

For the longest time in her life, she’s never understood the silly yet cruel joke life cursed upon her. To be able to heal everyone but herself, no matter the wound or injury one might have, she’ll cure it in no time, so long as it wasn’t inflicted on her.

Once, it wasn’t this pathetic nor lonely. She had her brothers and sisters to weather to storm through. There were Pogo and Mum to share cookies and stories with. It’s been years since she felt such comfort and to have to drag her feet back to the house that had turned itself from a warm home into a prison before the last days of her departure is surely weighing on her heart.

“Welcome home, dear.”

Her heart was filled with warmth once the familiar motherly voice greets her. The corners of her lips curved into a big smile as she dropped her bags, running to the dearly missed figure, “Mum.”

It took the bot a couple seconds to return the embrace. No doubt that she’s been lacking a lot of upgrades ever since she left. When the two broke the hug, she stared at the ageless caregiver with fulfilled eyes as it stared back at her with its bright smile, blank and not blinking. This might have been the most home she could feel while she’s here.

“You’re not supposed to come,” another voice echoes from the stairs.

“Diego, that’s not very nice.” Mum scolded lightly “Your sister has returned to us.”

The boy showed a thin smile to the bot, patting her lightly on the shoulder, “I think Pogo was looking for you, Mum.”

With a slight nod, the android excused herself out of the room.

Now if Grace’s presence lightened her heart, the sight of this black suited man certainly plummets it.

“You look awful,” She greets, noticing the scars that litter his face “Surely couldn’t find a better nurse than me now, can you?”

“Please,” Diego snorted “You’re more of a deadweight than a nurse, if ever.”

Ouch.

She lets out an exasperated exhale, folding her hands in front of her chest in defence, “Well, I’m not here for you and I don’t take joy either on coming back to this circus, so if you could just get yourself off that non-existent high horse—”

Before she could finish her words, Diego had already walked away as if she wasn’t there to begin with. His back becomes the abundant evidence that whatever bad blood they had years ago is still staining his skin.

It wasn’t always like this, him and her. In fact, they were the inseparable two growing up. If Luther had Allison, Diego had her. The many times she healed his wounds had led them to grow closer as the years went by. He was the one with the most injury to heal, after all. The most careless in battle out of the eight, never backing down from a close combat. Though he would always come out triumphant, a little cut here and there would be something he never escaped from.

“Don’t mind him, he’s giving us all the sour comments,” Allison said as she linked her arms to her “I’m glad to see you.”

She smiles at her sister, squeezing her hand slightly in reassurance, “As I am to see you.”

—-

“You should really learn how to dodge a punch, Diego,” She says as she runs her thumb through his bruise “One of these days you’re going to go home and I may not be able to heal you.”

“Is that a loss on your part or my part?”

Her eyebrow rose, purposely pressing on his bruise without healing it that he winces a little, “Or maybe I just won’t heal you, that’s definitely a loss on your part.”

“As if you’ll ever do that.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Diego tries his best to bite the grin but it proved to be an even harder task than to back out of a fight. He stares at her fondly, finding the jitters in his stomach to amplify the longer he stares yet it feels impossible for him to break the contact. Perhaps she casts a little of her magic everytime she heals him.

“Don’t stare at me like that.”

“Like what?” He asks.

“Like Klaus stares at a bottle of gin,” She says, now examining his other cuts “Like I stare at Mum’s cookies.”

Diego smiles.

“Like Luther stares at Allison.”

“Would it be so bad if I stare that way?”

The wake from the unintended nap hurts her head. Her bed is much smaller than she last remembered with her feet slightly dangling on the edge and how the pillows have certainly lost their fluffiness. Everything in her room stays the same yet at the same time, everything has changed.

—-

Diego defeatedly threw himself to the sofa. He sighs, his knuckles cracking as he tries to ball his fists. The tidal wave of emotions were beating him black and blue in silence. It feels as if he was swallowed by a giant blackhole with no light nor guidance to get out of.

There was no need for him to be rude to her, he knew that. He didn’t want to do it, but seeing her back in their house, hugging and talking to Grace, hurts. It took him years to try and ignore the ghost of her. She was the one force that would fuel his mornings and ease him to sleep at night. She was the one soul that he would always go to seek refuge. She was the one that he would lay his life on the line for without a second of doubt.

But he had to lose it all after one stupid night.

A night that he would never be able to grow out of, both from the horror and the guilt. Diego shut himself out for days following that terrifying night, locking his doors and skipping meals as he tries to think of all the what-if scenarios.

What if he stayed home that night?

What if he forced her to stay home that night?

What if he saved her before she saved him?

What if?

Mindlessly, he reaches for a knife on his left chest. It was a stranger to the rest of his knives collection. Compared to the polished lightweight knives he tucked in his suit, this one butter knife was rather dull. It would serve no harm to anyone, yet he kept it closest to his heart as if it was his most prized possession.

Diego stared at the knife. His brows knitted, examining the item as if it held the answer to all of his questions. Or perhaps some guidance. Anything to help him keep his sanity and not lose the plot now that she’s back in his life. Was she staying or was she leaving for the night? He wasn’t sure. But even if she is leaving, the hours he’d have to spend with her would suffocate nonetheless.

His thumb traces the engraving on the knife’s handle. A little trace of an infinite loop that had somehow become his stress outlet: the number eight.

[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: You're hoping to go out for a while on your own, but of course, there's always someone watching closely

─Warnings: mahito, blood, toxic behaviors, obsession, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Two / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One / Par Two

YOU WERE in a bad position and the next move made you lose the game, you didn't care at all, already used to this routine of losing.

"I don't understand how you can be so bad at playing this."

"I was never interested in board games, and even less so in chess."

You shrugged your shoulders as you watched Sukuna checkmate again, you sighed, narrowing your eyes, this night seemed excessively long, even when the king of curses himself offered you to have friendly games during the nights where you coincided in his domain ─because this idiot didn't have anything better to do either─ after a few games you end up bored, not to mention that you were always the one who lost.

"Let's make a deal, brat."

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at his words, you were definitely discovering many unknown tints about Sukuna while you were locked up here, you nodded waiting for him to continue, although you already had your answer in mind, neither you nor him had anything better to do here.

"You don't like sorcerers and neither do I, but I'm not part of the group of villains of mediocre curses, you don't want to be involved with them either, why don't we help each other?"

"How do I know I can trust you? Also, how could I help? I have flesh and blood surveillance cameras out there."

"Once you make a deal, you agree to some rules, if the person breaks them they will receive a punishment, and you can be useful if I use you against them."

"So I only serve as a bargaining chip? What the hell do I gain from that?"

"Protection-"

"Don't I have enough of that already?"

"Shut up and let me finish." you let out a soft sigh, cringing at his demand, this geezer made you tremble in your seat when he seemed angry, but you would never admit it out loud "You don't need more protection, but your family does, don't they? You are not even aware of the dangers they are exposed to."

Again, everyone seemed to know how to play with your feelings, you frowned thinking about your parents, you called them recently to update them on your supposed exchange with other students and they didn't seem consumed by cursed energy or any malaise in general, they definitely seemed better now that you weren't hanging around and attracting all those bad energies, although you were unaware that the real danger was not what you were attracting, but the people who are trying to have you just for themselves, for them your parents were an obstacle.

"Well? We have a deal?"

He extended his hand, with a sly smile as if he were already waiting for an affirmative answer, you remained silent for a couple more seconds, staring at his hand, you brought yours closer, placing it on top of his, but not shaking it.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to reject."

"What!? Are you an idiot?"

"Probably, but maybe this pact will only bring me more problems, you know… the whole fucking world is after you, or your fingers, or your head."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, you could feel his anger expanding even outside his body, you even thought he would kill you right there so he wouldn't see you again for the moment, however he started to laugh, increasing the volume of his laughter like if he were a psychopath.

"You really don't know anything about this world or the people around you, okay, I'll let the weight of your choice fall on your shoulders, but I won't make you the offer again."

You gave him a thumbs up, not even looking at Sukuna as you had your nose stuck in your phone, a little bored with the talk about pacts and protection, if you were going to get out of this cursed world situation it would be on your own and without anyone's help, if that led to your perdition so be it, but at least you could choose what you wanted.

He got a little twitch in his eye when he saw that he was being ignored or that you didn't really care about his comment, annoyed with that electronic device that was taking up all your attention, he seemed like one of those anti-internet parents who believe that the new technologies are the devil, luckily you woke up before he could grab your phone and throw it into the air.

You returned to your routine, each day a little less sane and more annoyed by the attitude of the sorcerers around you, you had thought so many times about accepting Mahito's offers to 'fight' at his side simply to annoy the others, however you would be giving the pleasure to the villains, which you were not going to do either, in no way, no one would have privileges, everyone is equally guilty that your life is now a spiral of obsession and overprotection, not to mention the macabre creatures that chase you.

Sometimes you think that if you had met them under different circumstances you would not have such a forced relationship with some of them, Itadori seemed like a good boy, Megumi has his moments but he is not a bad person, Nobara would be a great friend and Gojo… is a separate topic.

Today was a day in which you thanked all the gods of all the religions ever known, the three of them were on a mission that you were not allowed to go on, Gojo was busy with other matters that you did not know about and you did not know the whereabouts of the sophomores, so you had some peace of mind.

You took the opportunity to leave the vicinity of the Jujutsu high school now that you didn't have eyes on you, throwing yourself into the streets full of noise and normal people, oh how you missed being an npc who simply did daily errands and slept without having to worry about what curses and sorcerers were after you, you would really pay to erase the memory of all the people introduced into your life these last few months.

You walked for a while without any mishap, which made you suspect that everything was too calm, you shrugged, taking out your phone to check the time, however in just a second the object was completely torn from your hands, you blinked with a blank look as you watched the thief run away, too distracted trying not to scream in front of the crowd of people, you didn't notice how a black blur ran off in the same direction as the thief, the same direction you took a second after. You kept all your annoyance to yourself, smiling fully as you followed the path of the asshole who had had the brilliant idea of stealing you, of all people.

There was no way you were letting that guy get away when you bought that phone relatively recently with your own sweat and tears, without the monetary help of your parents, you were not willing to buy another one, plus it was your only way to evade the reality in which you were trapped now. You dodged people, dogs, you were almost run over but you managed to get on the heels of the thief, whatever the case, someone jumped on him before you could trip him and punch him.

"What do you think you're doing!? Shit like you stealing something from my precious sister!"

"AHH- I'm sorry- I- please!"

You stayed frozen in place, your face turned pale, your blood rushing out of your veins as you watched the thief being brutally beaten by the man with two messy buns, oh yeah, you forgot that you had some weirdo following you and proclaiming himself your 'brother'. You slowly walked over to your phone that had been dropped and slid due to the fight, hoping not to draw Choso's attention as he left the guy's face to a pulp, you silently crouched down, checking that, luckily, there weren't any scratches on the screen, with the same tranquility you got up, hoping to be able to continue without being noticed.

The blood that returned to your face left again as quickly as you felt a hand on your shoulder, you clenched your fist knowing that it wouldn't be so easy to get out of this curse's range of attention.

"Choso!"

Without time to react, the same hand that was holding your shoulder pushed you behind some garbage containers, crashing your other shoulder against the wall. You didn't allow yourself to let out a moan of pain because you recognized the voice that had called Choso.

"Mahito… do you need something?"

"No, actually I was just passing by, what's up with that guy?"

He pointed childishly and nonchalantly at the barely conscious thief on the ground, his entire face and surroundings splattered with blood as were the knuckles of his attacker.

"Nothing, I thought he had one of Sukuna's fingers, it turned out to be just a residue of his presence."

"Oh, that's a shame, at least I can have a new toy."

He stuck out his tongue, giving the 'peace' sign to his accomplice, you covered your mouth with your hands and closed your eyes as you heard the screams of pain and terror of the poor devil who had decided to steal you, his body contorted, deforming into a strange thing that Mahito devoured afterwards. You wanted to get out of here if possible without either of them noticing but it would be too difficult to do so, at least, you settled for Mahito not discovering you for the moment, but maybe you should think twice before.

"Oh, why is my favorite human trying to hide?"

You jumped in fear immediately as you came face to face with his sickly smile, taking a second to look behind him and see Choso's irritated face who seemed to want to spend time with you alone and not with Mahito involved.

The situation in which you least wanted to be involved, trapped with the greatest threats to your life expectancy, and not only because they could kill you just by touching your body, but because they exhausted your entire social battery exponentially, were, without a doubt, worse than being caught in a fight between Gojo and Sukuna, these curses would make you seriously reconsider whether life is really worth it.

The change from walking the streets of the city encapsulated in your own thoughts to walking the streets with two possibly precursors of human extinction was a huge leap, definitely something you didn't expect to be doing, if they gave you the choice, you'd rather be listening to everything Nobara had done in her training while Itadori fought for your attention, but here you were, holding Choso's hand because he was too paranoid of losing you among the people frequenting a crowded street while Mahito looked at all the stores like a child full of curiosity.

The truth is that you thought it was going to be something worse, you thought you would see a lot more blood, murders or something like that ─maybe today just wasn't the time─, after all these guys were considered the villains, however you swallowed your words when you even found yourself “enjoying” the rest of the afternoon, it wasn't much different than how the sorcerers treated you, they just dragged you around talking to themselves as you barely answered them or simply nodded or denied their words.

The sensation was so ordinary at this point that you felt like it was Nobara who was pulling your hand instead of Choso, you even noticed the same concern in his eyes when you tripped over your own feet because you were distracted.

When the sun began to set on the horizon, letting the cold tones paint the sky, you decided that you had to leave, you were not the only one who thought about it, although Mahito knows that he could use you to his advantage, he knew that threats Sukuna's were not things to play with, and he had already been warned once, he just watched from afar as Choso said goodbye to you, disinterested but without taking his eyes off your face, a smile beginning to appear on his face as he imagined the different ways in which to destroy that pretty face of yours, not for you, but to see the expressions that those who had so much esteem for you would make, just thinking about their expressions when they saw your death caused him an indescribable feeling.

"Send me a message when you arrive, don't take shortcuts and go through busy streets and ah- take this, it's starting to get cold, I don't want you to get sick."

Choso bombarded you with requests to get to the school safely since they couldn't get anywhere near there, you ignored the fact that he stole your phone to add his number and loosened the scarf he had wrapped around your neck since he pulled it too tight, just you agreed to all his requests in the hope that he could set you free once and for all, promising that you would send him over if some weirdo did anything to you.

You sighed in relief once you crossed a corner, losing sight of Mahito's amused gaze and Choso's distressed one, although your relief didn't last long when you bumped into a man's arm, not just any man.

"Here you were…" he took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes "Do you know the commotion you've caused by disappearing like that out of nowhere?"

Nanami looked at you with a slight frown, you shrugged not knowing what to answer him, he himself seemed worried enough about your whereabouts, his breathing was slightly accelerated and his usually neat hair had a couple of loose strands.

"I'm… sorry?"

He sighed heavily at your inability to understand everyone's concern, he took you safely back to the high school where everyone was waiting impatiently to receive the news from the blonde. Once there you were greeted by two pairs of arms clinging to you, Nobara and Itadori still not learning that thing about personal space, Megumi was simply scanning you, frowning at the scarf, Gojo remained silent, scanning your body for of possible injuries with the help of the power of the six eyes, he smiled to himself when he saw no scratches, but his face darkened when he saw traces of cursed energy, not just any cursed energy of course. He knew you were smart enough not to switch sides, so he should keep you further away from the idea of going out on your own again.

You narrowed your eyes as you felt his gaze on you despite having his eyes covered, he only greeted you with a giggle, commenting that you were lucky that 'Nanamin' had found you in time before something bad happened to you.

When the worry of the moment passed, everyone dispersed to do whatever they were doing before discovering that you were nowhere to be found, only you and Megumi were left in the room.

"You look exhausted."

Before you could figure out if you could sleep peacefully today or play chess another night with Sukuna, he began a light chat with you.

"Why would it be?"

You responded sarcastically, following the talk for a couple of minutes until you decided you had enough human or cursed interaction for the day, your bed was waiting for you and your tears had been trapped inside your eyes for a long time, you needed some comfort that right now only you pillow ─and sometimes not even that─ could give you.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

can you talk more about harry being able to feel magic throughout the series?

Sure, so there are a few instances I recall of Harry feeling magic and I honestly don't know some of them. Like, some are questionable evidence and some are much clearer...

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. His panic fading now that there was no sound of Filch and Snape, Harry moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at himself but see no reflection again. He stepped in front of it.

(PS, 149)

Compared to Ron:

“See?” Harry whispered. “I can’t see anything.” “Look! Look at them all…there are loads of them.…” “I can only see you.” “Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.” Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pajamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

(PS, 151)

Ron is implied to not feel the urge to look at the mirror the way Harry does. Not only that but Harry just instinctively gets how the mirror works, where you need to stand to see the reflection, and why Ron can't see it from where he is standing. This isn't something he experimented with before, he just, knew.

Harry couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he didn’t just throw Riddle’s diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he’d had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He’d never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.

(CoS, 218)

Harry senses the Horcrux in the diary. It's possible this is because he, too, is a Horcrux and not because he is sensitive to magic in general, but I'm noting it here anyway.

“Three . . .” muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, “two . . . one . . .” It happened immediately: Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; he could feel Ron and Hermione on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; his forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then —

(GoF, 73)

In this above one everyone is urged forward, it's the hook painful sounding sensation I'm not sure others are experiencing.

Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, “Imperio!” It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.

(Gof, 231)

Again, I'm just not sure how the Imperius is supposed to feel, but Harry describes a light floating sensation besides his worries being wiped away (the latter of which I think is part of the curse, but I'm not sure about the first one)

“Disillusionment Charm,” said Moody, raising his wand. “Lupin says you’ve got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won’t stay on while we’re flying; this’ll disguise you better. Here you go —” He rapped Harry hard on the top of the head and Harry felt a curious sensation as though Moody had just smashed an egg there; cold trickles seemed to be running down his body from the point the wand had struck.

(OotP, 54)

Harry feels the disillusionment charm washing over hum in cold trickles. Again, it's hard to say if it's normal or not since no one else describes feeling anything like that from what I remember.

“Sirius?” Harry spoke again, but much more quietly now that he was nearer. He had the strangest feeling that there was someone standing right behind the veil on the other side of the archway. Gripping his wand very tightly, he edged around the dais, but there was nobody there. All that could be seen was the other side of the tattered black veil.

(OotP, 773)

I talked here more about Harry and his weird sense regarding the vale, but yeah...

“You’re quite right,” said Dumbledore serenely, shaking back his sleeve to reveal the tips of those burned and blackened fingers; the sight of them made the back of Harry’s neck prickle unpleasantly.

(HBP, 67)

It could be a description of stress and discomfort, but I don't think Harry used these words to describe discomfort or worry at any other point in the books. And considering it's Harry Potter who spends most of his life in discomfort I think it's interesting and likely Harry sensing the curse.

Harry could not tell whether the shivers he was experiencing were due to his spine-deep coldness or to the same awareness of enchantments. He watched as Dumbledore continued to revolve on the spot, evidently concentrating on things Harry could not see

(HBP, 557-558)

This is what I mentioned in the post anon is referring to.

I don't have notes of something like this from DH, since I'm still compiling them, but I did find this scene to add on the train of Harry's magic being super intuitive and intuned with his emotions:

Dust swirled around Harry like mist, catching the blue gaslight, as Mrs. Black continued to scream. “Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonor, taint of shame on the house of my fathers—“ “SHUT UP!” Harry bellowed, directing his wand at her, and with a bang and a burst of red sparks, the curtains swung shut again, silencing her

(DH, 171)

Harry literally casts "shut up" as a spell, and it not only works, but it works when no one in the Order succeded in shutting the portrait up magically! Harry is so insanely powerful I don't know what to do with this information anymore...

[laurbiek]

as promised... something!

....::::**•°✾°•**::::........::::**•°✾°•**::::.... ....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

She hears the distinctive sound of the WhatsApp video call. Its weird when they're in different countries, the mode of communication changes time and time again to avoid crazy roaming charges. She's used to being able to call him quick using the regular phone app, to see if he wanted her to pick up dinner or to ask him nicely if he would switch her laundry out for her.

It's weird to start over on another app, it almost feels like they're starting another relationship. It feels so different. The inside jokes and frequent questions about the HBO password are nowhere to be found, in it's place is an empty blank page, waiting hopefully to be filled with the same.

She picks up her phone from the edge of the bed and swipes to answer the call. She looks at the time when she does, 10:04, almost five minutes late for their scheduled call.

At least that has stayed the same.

The slight hum of the highway plays in the background, and there Andrew sits. He looks tired, but not over consumed. It's a good kind of tired, like the kind you get after a good, but long day. More of a content-tired. His hair is in the messiest bun possible, obvious that he needed it out of the way and had lost all ability to care. He's got his glasses on, and Y/N remembers when he Facetimed her from the eye doctor to see if they looked good before he ordered them.

She internally thinks that they still do.

"Hey love", he finally speaks between bites of a sandwich. She looks down at the table the phone is propped on, and sees the distinctive red and white wrappings.

"Are you kidding, you went to Wawa without me..."

"I'm sorry! The band voted before we left Philly! I told them you'd be mad but they don't seem to care about my marriage so... I had to"

"This is a betrayal, of the highest degree. I can't picture a world where I can forgive you"

"If I could ship one across the Atlantic to you, you know I would"

There is a few beats of silence, they both know that statement means more than just a sandwich.

She finally breaks,

"How are you holding up?"

"Eh, not bad. I've not been this tired in a while but I'll get used to it soon. I've done it before."

"It's quiet in the bus, where is everyone else?"

"Sleeping"

"So everyone else is sleeping and you stayed up to call me?

He takes another bite of his sandwich before answering simply,

"Yeah."

She stares at him through the phone as he keeps eating like he doesn't understand the niceness of his actions, it's just second nature to him.

"Thank you," she says, voice full of genuine earnestness.

He doesn't respond to that, instead, he switches to another topic. He doesn't feel like he needs thanks for his actions, he would rather thank her for being around to call him.

"How are you at home, everything good?"

"Yeah, there was a dead bird in the yard yesterday, Elwood found it while we were playing, he almost picked it up but I got to him before he did. That's honestly the most exciting thing that's happened here since you left."

"But that's the joy of the country isn't it, that nothing ever happens?"

"Yeah. But I would rather do nothing with you than do nothing alone"

There's a long stretch of silence between them before Andy notices a tear fall down Y/N's cheek. There are no other signs of her sadness, no shaking shoulders or audible sounds. Just a few gentle tears that he would've missed if he wasn't so utterly enraptured by her face on the five-inch screen. His heart breaks.

"Hey hey, it's ok love, it's just a bit longer. I'll be home for a break in a few weeks. "

"I know. It's just really hard."

He doesn't know what to say to that at first. He wants to hammer on about how she knew what she was getting into, and this was an inevitability. But he knew she knew that. Him repeating it isn't going to make either of them feel any better. The next part of him yearned to just get on a plane and be at home, but that wasn't fair to anyone. Not his bandmates, not the concertgoers, and not Andy who loved what he did more than anything.

All he could say was

"I know."

You imagine the separation being hard but no one really prepares you for it. You can't prepare for it. It's the pain of losing a routine and a lover all at once. It's the frustration of needing help, of needing someone to take something off your plate and having someone willing to, but that someone is 1000 miles away. Literally.

She's crying a little harder now, still silent, with the tears increasing in frequency and size. He says again,

"I know. I know how hard it is cause I feel it too. You know what I miss the most right now?"

"What?"

"I miss the things that you do that piss me off. The annoying stuff. I miss how you always steal bites of my food."

She can't help but laugh at that. He keeps talking,

"I miss how cold your feet are and how you're always trying to shove them under me to warm them. And how often you leave dirty clothes on the floor."

She joins in this time,

"I miss your hair clogging the shower drain. And how you use every possible dish when you cook."

"See, doesn't it hurt a little less knowing that you don't have to unclog the shower for a while?"

"Yeah, and I'm sure you sleep easier without my cold feet poking you."

Theres another small pause, but this one is not as sad as the rest of them. This one feels like two people comfortable with each other, just basking in the silence, feeling no pressure.

"It sucks love, it really does. But it gets easier. And there are less shitty days. And it's not for forever."

"Ok, it's shitty, but I've felt shittier. And it's not for forever."

"Yeah."

"OK," she says, wiping her eyes a bit to try to show a bit of a braver face, "this is getting kind of bummer-ish, talk to me a bit about tour stuff"

For the rest of the call, he prattled on about various events and hijinks at his shows, on the road, and in between. About halfway through the story, he realized that she had fallen asleep and for some reason, he finished the story before hanging up. Possibly hoping that she would wake back up, but mostly enjoying the domestic feeling of talking to her. He eventually hung up, settling with the fact that she was indeed asleep for real. A few hours and a timezone later after he woke up from his own nap, he noticed a WhatsApp message again,

I forgot the HBO password again...

[mngo-jii]

☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 (𝐡𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝) 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 CRUSHING HEADCANONS ! 🐚

✉️ : i guess ill write it myself then (p.s. i havent written in MONTHS but you have NO right to tell me this sucks because this is the most you can get for hpma x reader 😠 /j) I'm open to requests, I'm bored

Daniel Page, who accidentally messes up his potion from staring at you too hard—who, on the other hand, was too fixated and focused on trying to help him ferment the mixture with what he had teached you so far.

Daniel Page, who constantly, indirectly calls you pretty.

Lottie had asked for advice on who she should draw to practice anatomy on, adding that it should be someone who has relatively pretty features so it won't be too hard to captivate. On the spur of the moment, Daniel was the one who almost immediately responded with your name.

Daniel Page, who always offers to help you study for exams, of course without a remark on how you "always need him" first.

Daniel Page, who ironically always needs you, and goes to you for help even though everyone else is a 100% available and a lot more suitable for the situation.

Daniel Page, who's slowly getting used to sneaking out at night with you to explore Hogwarts even further. To the point he could almost feel a pang of disappointment when you decide not to go.

"Alright," he speaks through his usual accent, "It's better not to get hung up by Mr. Filch anyway." He wishes you a goodnight after you do and tries to ignore the way his shoulders slump and how his mood lightly drops.

Daniel Page, who randomly gets reminded of how pretty you are despite the light frown you have displayed on your face as a result of whatever he said.

Additionally, Daniel Page who can't help but halt his speech when he realises how pretty your pout looks and the way you sassily cross your arms at him, so out of patience yet ready to hear him out. Hence why he always ends up "reluctantly" complying with your plan instead of his.

Daniel Page who covers up the fact that he wants you to dance with him "as a favor."

Daniel Page who gives you a flower because it was an "extra herb" he didn't need (even though he could have kept it for the next potion that acquired it), and makes up an entire potion when you asked what it was used for.

Daniel Page who suddenly distances himself from you when you start hanging out with another male student—

Daniel Page who says it was he who was "your first" and who has been on adventures with you more than anyone else and asks what's so special about said male student once you worriedly ask him what's going on

Daniel Page who's stuttering, awful lying, and flushed face never fail to give him away every time the others question him about you

Daniel Page who looks like a beaten-up puppy whenever you choose someone else over him. Notwithstanding it might be the smallest matter as to accompanying you to go back to your dorm to pick up something you forgot ☠️

Daniel Page who starts to stammer and sweat when you ask his opinion on how a certain outfit, accessory, or makeup looks on you— His response either being "It-it looks fine" or "uhhh um 🧍🏻‍♂️"

Daniel Page who feels guilty about the lack of solid answer he had given you, not to mention the pout on your face once you back away.

So he apologises afterward and straight up tells you that you're always pretty, and that he doesn't understand why you need to be told that when you'll always be the same or even prettier in anything you wear 🤷🏻...

Daniel Page who goes blank when he realises what he had just said ☹️

Just Daniel Daniel Daniel Daniel <3 he's a cutie patootie fr

a/n: GOD I ACTUALLY DON'T LIKE THIS ITS THE BEST I COULD DO IM SORRY

[storm-angel989]

Hi,

I know you’ve been writing these themes a lot so if you are feeling sick of them or burnout feel free to just ignore this :) But if your interested I’d love a Velvette x Reader (platonic or romantic, whatever you’re feeling) where the reader was a model when they were alive and struggled with disordered eating because of the harsh industry standards. Now in hell they feel like they are better but after awhile of working with Vel it starts to come back. Thank you :)

P.s. I absolute adore your writing. I love your characterization of the Vees.

Hi Friend,

This is a pretty intense topic and mixing models with ED's makes sense. I'm not burnt out- not yet at least!

<3 Mandy

The clause itself was considered standard procedure, a non negotiable part of the contract Velvette offered. The requirement of full disclosure of any and all mental health issues her models faced before coming to her. Some might argue that requirement invaded privacy. Personal disclosure that had nothing to do with the job at hand. A stance Velvette both vehemently disagreed with and couldn’t give less of a fuck about. Sign the contract or don’t, she didn’t care either way. She had been in the industry long enough to know that the job requirements could send a being spiraling if they didn’t have someone keeping a careful eye on them. 

And truly, that was what Velvette cared about. Model’s passing out, a shirt slipping and revealing fresh cuts, constant shivering- none of it was a good look for the company, or her image. And so she kept careful note and watched constantly for signs that their work was taking a toll on them. Bi-monthy runway walks, clouted as extra practice for each model, put in place to keep their skills sharp, served a dual purpose. File in hand, she could observe and study the particulars of each girl. 

Velvette louged in her directors chair, leafing through her binder with each passing demon. Some pages boosted her handwritten scrawls, notes and dates of concerning, specific observations. As she sat watching as her models walked down the runway, her eyes narrowed as they fell to Reader. 

Reader. Her file boasted two notes. One from her arrival in hell. Another from the last modeling session. As her eyes studied readers appearance, she observed what most would overlook. Slight changes in her bodies proportions that indicated something wasn’t quite right. Quietly, she flagged the page. 

In her office later that night, she dialed Valentino’s number. In her vast experience, it took two to convince a demon they needed help. And as always, it helped that Valentino brought with him his own set of expertise- eyes that could and would pick a body apart if warranted. More importantly, he stood as her friend. Someone who understood the difficulties of this career, who was one of the two who stood by her side when she herself struggled. To her relief, he came within minutes and took his place behind her. Wordlessly, she handed him the file. 

“Call her in,” he said after a moment. “I’ll set up the scale.” 

The press of a buzzer. A call for her to Velvette’s office. A quiet escort in. Velvette looked at the terrified girl and softened her expression the best she could. 

“Reader. Let me be clear, you’re not in trouble,” she began as gently as we could. “But we have noticed something slightly concerning, and we need to get a weight on you. Undress and step on the scale for us.” 

It wasn’t a request. Velvette knew that, and she knew Reader did too. She watched as Reader took off her jeans and sweatshirt. Velvette did her best to hide the sense of relief that washed over her- she wasn’t layering yet. Obediently, Reader stepped on. Another good sign. She wasn’t defensive, she wasn’t fighting. Not yet, at least. Hope fluttered in Velvette’s chest. Maybe she had caught this one early enough. 

“What is my weight?” Reader asked in confusion as she stared down at the blank scale. 

“We have that information, bebita. Not something you need to concern yourself with,” Valentino replied as he showed Velvette the number on the scale, sent directly to his phone. 

Velvette’s heart sank. Ten pounds under hiring. And reader was already thin to begin with. She looked at Valentino and he shook his head. A silent understanding between the two. 

“You can step off,” Velvette told her. “We have the information we need.”

A look of dismay crossed Reader’s face. “Am I in trouble?”

“Trouble? No. But we are noticing a concerning trend with your weight. So we’re going to put you on a plan,” Velvette replied as gently as she could. “Twice a week you’re going to meet with a therapist. She’s going to go over a meal plan with you. What you say to her in these sessions will stay private, but we’ll reassess in two weeks. If your weight continues to drop, we’ll…” Velvette’s voice caught in her throat. 

Valentino put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll cross that bridge if it comes to it. For now, you’ll be taken down the hall to meet your therapist and be given a through physical.” 

“I’m sorry,” Reader began.

“There is no reason to be sorry. This is a hard industry, we simply want you healthy,” Velvette replied instantly. 

As Velvette watched her be escorted out the door, a sense of relief washed over her. There was no protest, no fights. A simple acceptance of fact. Another good sign. Velvette laid her arms on her desk and put her head down. 

“Amicito, are you alright?” Valentino asked in a voice reserved only for those he loved. “I know this is difficult, but you did the right thing.”

“I hate this, Val,” she replied in a muffled tone. “I hate what we do to these demons. I hate that perfection is an unachievable standard and I hate…I hate seeing them fall, again and again, to a demon far more powerful than me.”

“But the standards we devised help stop them from falling. They keep both our workers safe and our company in good standing,” Valentino replied gently. “Come on Vel, let’s get out of here. You need a break, muñeca. Let’s call Vox and…”

“And have a night in,” she interrupted as she lifted her head. Slowly, she stood up. “I’m not in the mood to deal with people.” 

“Then you won’t,” Valentino replied as he slid his arm around her. 

Just before she went to open the door, Velvette paused. She looked at Valentino and he watched as the harsh mask she wore on the daily melted away. 

“Val? Thanks for not…for not letting me slide into the arms of my own demon,” she said softly. “I couldn’t, if I didn’t have you and Vox I’d…”

Valentino didn’t let her finish. Instead, her wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight hug before releasing her.“Amicito, that’s what friends are for.”

[dreamingnights]

Subtle games (part 1)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Author's note: this fic is based on the idea about Larissa and an innocent clumsy adorable Reader. English isn't my first language, so sorry for any mistakes! Enjoy, I hope you like it!!!

Warnings: none.

Y/N couldn't walk. The gray monsters were chasing her through the long passageways of Nevermore and her legs weren't moving fast enough to escape from their shadows. She could even feel the warm breath of the creatures at the nape of her neck just before she fell into an absolute void.

Her own screams woke her up but Y/N quickly realized that she was perfectly safe in her room's comfortable big bed. She had had another nightmare. When she calmed down she turned her head and tried to decipher with half-closed eyes the time her clock showed. Half past seven, she thought. Half past seven! She was going to be late for the staff meeting again. Y/N quickly sat up, cleaned herself up and put on her academy uniform at lightning speed. She left her room slamming the door and went down the stairs -two at a time- until she reached the small kitchen next to the meeting room, where she quickly made herself a strong coffee. At the precise moment when she was about to enter the adjoining room, where the weekly session was held, someone closed the door in front of her and the content of the coffee cup fell down due to the loud bang. When she saw the huge brown stain on her new shirt Y/N cursed outloud. However, she thought it was better to show up like that than to change clothes again, arrive embarrassingly late and make a fool of herself in front of her imposing boss. So, Y/N gathered all her courage and opened the heavy door to the office.

Nine serious faces stared at her from their seats. They were all the teachers of Nevermore, the school for outcasts. Y/N was the newest addition and she taught art and literature classes. She, like all of her students and mates, also had special powers. In her case, she was able to fleetingly give life to her own creations, something that could turn out to be her best dream and also her worst nightmare when her characters returned to their original inert state on the blank page of a book.

Nevermore's headmistress was Larissa Weems, a tall woman with platinum hair who wore a very elegant green suit. As usual she was the one who was in charge of the meeting.

- You're late again, Miss Y/L/N. -Larissa sighed. Later she looked at her stained uniform and drew an incredulous smile. -You have a curious sense of aesthetics. Anyway, take a seat.

- I'm sorry, Miss Weems. It will not happen again. -A blushed and hyperventilated Y/N sat next to Mr. Vlad, the fencing coach.

During the course of the meeting Y/N gradually regained her composure and then explained the challenges posed by the new semester at the academy. Y/N could even see an almost imperceptible smile forming on Larissa's lips as she listened to her attentively. Or maybe she was imagining it again, Y/N thought to herself. She had to get the diligent headmistress out of her mind once and for all because if she didn't her vivid imagination would play tricks on her again. Despite being aware that her crush on Larissa was almost certainly platonic and unrequited, she couldn't help but be enthralled when looking at her. Her incredible height, her silhouette, her cold eyes and her red smile haunted her every day like the monsters in her nightmares. And she couldn't escape from her either.

-Miss Y/L/N. What do you think? I'm very interested to know your opinion on this matter. -Larissa's soft voice brought Y/N out of her fantasies.

Wow, it's time to improvise again, Y/N reflected. She knew that they were still talking about the same topic and used her ingenuity to try to get out of the situation.

- You have a golden beak, Y/N. -Larissa praised her, showing off her perfect pearly teeth. -Your wisdom and inventiveness never cease to amaze me.

Hearing the compliment that came from Larissa's lips, Y/N couldn't help but blush and emit a sincere and wide smile at the same time. This reaction did not go unnoticed by the headmistress, who found it tremendously moving. Larissa suddenly looked at her companions and radically changed the subject. She couldn't be so unprofessional and show that deep down the young teacher Y/N Y/L/N was her little weakness.

After an hour of proposals and debates Larissa ended the meeting. Y/N was about to leave the room when she noticed the shadow of the tall woman closing over her.

- Y/N, could I speak to you in private? -Larissa asked politely as she tilted her head.

The young woman got lost in the woman's blue gaze and once again she had to rid those longing fantasies away from her mind. After all, it was a passing infatuation resulting from her dreamy nature.

When the two women were left alone in the large office, Larissa gently placed one of her long hands on Y/N's shoulder, who seemed to perceive a tender admiration in the headmistress' eyes. Suddenly, Y/N noticed a certain electric tension in the air and thought it was strange that her bodies were so close in such an empty room.

- I always appreciate your original point of view, Y/N. Thank you for helping me make this school a better place for the entire Nevermore family. -Larissa spoke those words lovingly as her hand rested on Y/N's shoulder. - And in case you didn't know, you are wearing your jacket backwards.

Y/N got a goofy smile etched on her face. How was it possible that she had not noticed this detail? She was sure Larissa thought she was a total mess.

Although for Y/N the day had only just begun.

[copperbadge]

Immediate Writer's Block

Had a comment on another post where I thought I'd probably need more space than the notes in which to respond, so:

constant-state-of-self-discovery Oh I get the envy I feel it right now how the fuck do you manage to write without impassable writers block after 5-9 sentences because I haven't fucking figured it out lol

I do have some advice on this!

I think most writers get blocked from time to time, it's normal and my general strategy is just to wait it out, but if you're frequently blocked after only writing a very little bit, I think the problem is one of two things: either you don't know what you want to achieve with the scene you're writing, or you don't know what should happen next within the scene to achieve that goal. If you frame "I'm blocked" as "I don't have an answer I need" then often you move from just sitting there, sweating and staring at a blank page, to thinking productively about how you're going to get where you're going. It's the difference between not knowing an answer and not knowing an answer but knowing where to look for it.

An invaluable piece of advice for this, which I think I picked up from someone who got it off a National Novel Writing Month messageboard, is "When in doubt, ninjas attack." It's not meant to be literal, you don't need to have ninjas or fight scenes just because you don't know what to do, but it helps to get the creativity flowing again. If you don't know what should happen next, or you know but you're having trouble actually writing the scene, it can be very helpful to induce a moment of uncertainty or surprise -- to have a metaphorical ninja attack. One time I did this literally -- the POV character was just on the road somewhere and I didn't know how to get them from a pastoral country road to their actual destination in an interesting way, so I had them get attacked by highway bandits and have to fight them off, which also allowed me to demonstrate that the character had significant unarmed combat skills. But it can also just be like, two characters who are having a boring conversation can be interrupted by a third person, even just a stranger asking for directions, or there can be, IDK, an explosion, or something goes missing, or etc.

Sometimes it also helps to leave it alone but keep it in your mind and go do something else -- listen to a podcast, take a walk, read a book, not because those things are distracting but because all our inputs eventually feed into our brain and come out as reactions. If you're thinking about your book while you're wandering around a park, something you see in the park might have an impact on it. If you've got YOUR story in mind while reading someone else's, you might be more inclined to look at what they're saying and see what you think of it, how it might play into your work.

And honestly, sometimes you just gotta go past it. I'm working on the next Shivadh novel right now and it opens basically with Simon the chef getting into a spat with his love-interest-to-be over some cheese. He want the cheese, she won't sell him the cheese, so they get off to a very contentious start. But I suck at writing conflict especially when it's basically "A character I like is being pompous and another character I want people to find likable is being stubborn and somewhat unpleasant". I've been stalled on it for a while. But I know where the scene ends up, like I do know what the goal is, so I just...skipped it and went on to writing a scene I like better, where they meet a second time and actually discover each others' identity and that they're about to be forced into the grownup equivalent of a school project. Once I've gotten dug deeper into the story I'll come back and write it, and by then I'll have the benefit of knowing the love interest a bit better.

So yeah -- I think a lot of breaking a writer's block, especially when you don't need rest but are just stumped about what to do, is to twist and look at it from another angle. It's not that you don't know what to write, or don't want to write what you know you have to -- it's that you don't have the correct answer to a question, or you need to leave that part alone to ferment and come back to it later. At least, for me.

[namelessprayers]

"if you were truly sorry, then you wouldn't have to convince me of it, would you?" confronted till with his fists balled at his sides the first instance that the world allowed it to occur.

he had been lingering on ivan's noncommittal excuse of an apology for the last week and it had effectively simmered in a couple more layers of indignation for the worse. in till's mind, ivan owed him at least a proper explanation and perhaps a few favors along with it.

"say something, idiot, don't just look past me when i'm right in front of you." continued till, having noticed the bordering blankness that seemed to dawn on ivan's face as he receded into deep thought.

"i'm sorry." eventually responded ivan. then after a terse pause that must've shown blatant distaste on till's face, he decided to tack on an extra mutter with a slight bow of his head. "i mean it."

being prepared to fight over forgive, till settled in between for forgetting and promptly storming off seething in 'whatever' hissed through his teeth. next time, till swore to either give up on ivan for good or punch him square in the jaw.

both would be cathartic enough to partially satiate till's conflicting feelings about ivan for maybe a month.

======

till met ivan by complete coincidence and still indeterminably fateful chance. it was absolutely nothing to do with the fact that till hadn't had any real friends since the second grade or that he was notably but tolerably lonely wandering by himself after school finished.

it was an odd day, mostly due to till's succession of questionably unsound decisions to not go home immediately and to instead loiter behind private property. he didn't trespass, or he didn't used to, because it risked his mother finding out a few key things about a) his lack of friends and b) his general restlessness in life.

he had scoped out the area before sitting down on the ledge of a lowered billboard which had an advertisement half ripped off its cover. dangling his legs so his feet swung over the grass, till did the only thing he really could do and filled his page with whatever came to mind. it was the best kind of wandering; the least lonely kind.

when till was done, the sun had significantly eased downwards, glare still in full force but from a much different angle than during midday.

distinctly, he could recall near instantly packing up and booking it home as soon as he heard the sound of other people close by; but through some inexplicable intuition, till ended up trailing the outskirts of the wire fence until the group of others came into view.

the boys in question were idiots, no doubt. he could hear it in their tones, jeering and taunting, always so devoid of any real purpose or valuable emotion. till wasn't going to insert himself needlessly into their antics, probably among the likes of trespassing and other things his mother wouldn't approve of.

like proof of the point that till should've turned back, he figured out what the boys were doing in particular, which was beating someone up. probably not the first time they'd done it, nor would it be the last, and yet, till had been compelled to venture closer as if the angle of viewing might change something about the situation.

till waited for at least ten minutes before they got bored and left, revealing that it was his never attending desk mate who got the brunt of the group's past time activities.

with an odd conviction, till scaled the wire fence, tossing his bag over and following within a short span of thirty seconds. after landing on his feet, he stared at ivan from a distance who was just sitting there hunched against the wall in a pitiful bid at disappearing.

on noticing him, till swore that ivan's eyes flashed red, but it was gone too quick for him to know.

it dawned on till that this was entirely unprecedented and completely unnecessary for him to do. in something of a panic that someone might catch him trespassing on this one rare occasion, till efficiently backtracked all the way over the fence, pausing for a brief moment of hesitation before his phone buzzed its discontent at the late hour it was and he urged himself to carry on.

till made it home at the same time he usually did, evading any of his mother's suspicion, but now stuck with the image of ivan expectantly waiting for a person who'd never come.

======

"school's not so bad. it's boring, but it's not bad." said till, sensing that his intent wasn't getting through to ivan who still didn't show up to school and only furrowed his brows at the words. "you've only attended for a single day, how do you even know it's so bad?"

they sat on the curb of a dead end street that no one ever drove down as usual. neither of them had brought up their first official meeting as not much had changed since then besides their increased communication and penchant for holding proper conversations that weren't just glaring; also the fact that till could now spot ivan walking across the street or resting on the playground like a moth to a flame.

"i just do know." replied ivan, assured and unbothered as typical. it was the kind of attitude that ticked till off depending on the person. ivan was lucky that till was starting to form a soft spot for him. "plus, you're not really selling it to me. boring is still bad, in a way."

"maybe it won't be boring. i sit next to you, you know? that can't be boring, can it?" mumbled back till, trying not to sound desperate for ivan to stay around him more often, because that definitely wasn't what this was.

"you're already sitting next to me." tiredly returned ivan, examining the spot where till kicked his feet along the gravel road as though it was some incredible revelation that they were currently here.

"and is it boring?" asked till, attempting to be flippant but ultimately bleeding through with an earnest sincerity that grated on his own ears as he cycled back through their chatting.

"no." ivan said stiffly. when he turned to look at till, it seemed like the sun glinted red in his eyes. "my whole life is boring, except for you."

[amayaonly1]

Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey

Eminem x Rapper!OC

Verse 2

About: Eminem grapples with his post-rehab struggles, battling self-doubt as he attempts to reignite his creative spark. The blank page feels heavier, like it carries the weight of everything he'd lost. Then Dre introduces him to Genji, a name that stirs something distant in his memory. Now, as she steps into the studio, calm and unassuming, Eminem can't help but wonder if their collaboration can help him reclaim the fire he feared he'd lost.

"Verses Unwritten: A Rap Odyssey" Chapter List: Verse 1 | Verse 2 | Verse 3 | Verse 4 | Verse 5 | Verse 6 | Verse 7 | Verse 8 | Verse 9 | Verse 10 | Verse 11 | Verse 12 | Verse 13 | Verse 14 | Verse 15 | Verse 16 | Verse 17 | Verse 18 | Verse 19 | Verse 20 | Verse 21

Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction, and any involvement of the character Genji is purely fictional and not representative of any real person.

Eminem sat slouched in the studio chair, staring at the soundboard, lost in his own head. The air felt stale, the hum of the equipment barely masking the silence in his mind. It had been weeks since he'd come back from the edge, back from the overdose that nearly wrote his last chapter, let alone on his daughter's birthday. Getting sober had been like crawling through broken glass, a raw and relentless fight that didn't end just because the pills were gone. The hardest part wasn't staying clean - it was staying himself. He'd spent the better part of a decade as that guy: a walking grenade, spitting venom and breaking charts. Now, as he tried to inch his way back, he couldn't tell if he was rebuilding or just picking up scraps of who he used to be.

The notepad on his lap sat, filled but neglected. He tapped his pen against it, frustrated. The beats Dre played knocked were gritty, grimy, the kind of shit he'd once feasted on. But they weren't pulling anything out of him. Lines would come, then fizzle out when the music starts. What was the point of coming back if he couldn't bring fire with him? Was this it? Was this the part where he watched everything he built fall apart because he couldn’t find that edge again?

"Yo, Em, you good?" Dre's voice cut through the fog, like it always did. He'd been patient, as much as he could be. He'd seen Eminem spiral, seen him crash, and now he was watching him claw his way back. But he wasn't one to let excuses fly. He stood at the console, hand resting on a beat pad, looking at Em like he could see the storm brewing under his skin.

The said rapper grunted, somewhere between a shrug and a nod. "Yeah. I'm good. Just… stuck."

Dre didn't press him right away. Instead, he cracked his knuckles absentmindedly, like he was thinking through something. "Look, I get it. You’re grindin', but maybe too hard. That's all I'm sayin'."

Eminem looked up, one brow raised. "And?"

"And," Dre leaned back against the console, a smirk playing at his lips. "I got someone I want you to meet."

Eminem shot him a look. "Man, I don't need no cheerleader. I need somethin' real."

"She's real. Trust me." Dre's tone didn’t budge. "She's got that thing, man. Could be good for the album."

Eminem frowned, dubious. Not that he didn't trust Dre, as someone who owed much of his career to the man, but he's already got Jeff who'd been with him for a few years. It'd take him at least this album before he even thinks of collaborating with someone outside of his circle

"Who is it?"

"Genji."

The name hit like a trigger. He'd heard of her years ago. One of the pioneers who'd sparked Japanese hip hop, a scene that didn't even exist until she came through in the late 80's and flipped it on its head. She wasn't just a name overseas either. Behind the scenes, she'd worked with the biggest players in the game: Dre himself, Snoop, Big Daddy Kane, Rakim, even Pac back in the day. She was someone whose influence was stitched into beats he'd rapped on without even realising it.

Still, he couldn't help but feel the doubt creep in. He'd always admired people who built something out of nothing, and she had done exactly that. But what was she supposed to do here? Help him? After everything? He wasn't sure if it was pride or fear making his throat tighten.

"She's got credentials, yeah," he said slowly. "But what's she gonna do for me, Dre? This ain't Japan."

"You'll see." Dre pushed away from the console, grabbing his phone off the table. "Just trust me on this. She's comin' through tomorrow."

The door clicked shut, leaving the rapper alone again with the hum of the equipment and the blank page in front of him. He turned back to his blank notepad, exhaling slowly. He stared at it for a long while, like the silence might eventually give way to something. But when it didn't, he dropped the pen and leaned back, closing his eyes, still trying to process what happened mere seconds ago. If Dre believed in her, there had to be something there. But deep down, a voice whispered: What if even she can't fix this?

The studio was quiet, save for the faint static buzz of the monitors warming up. Eminem was already there, slouched in the same chair, but this time he wasn't blank. He’d filled half a page overnight; half bullshit, half something. Enough to feel like he wasn't starting from nothing.

The door creaked open, pulling him out of his thoughts. Eminem's eyes lifted from his notes just as Dre walked in, motioning someone forward. "C'mon in."

She stepped in, and for a second, the rapper wasn't sure what to expect. There she was standing in the doorway with a kind of soft confidence. Slinging on her shoulder was a black canvas drawstring bag, her brown hair was tied back, and she was dressed low-key: a beige loose-fit sweatshirt, slim-fit denim, and white Reebok shoes. But there was something deliberate, yet composed, about her presence. She didn't look at the floor or try to prove herself with swagger. She just smiled faintly, the corners of her mouth curling up like she already knew what kind of room she was walking into.

This was Genji. The girl who’d revolutionized a sound halfway across the world. The one Dre and Snoop had talked about like she was family, even back when she was just a kid making waves. He'd respected her from afar for years, the way she'd built her lane, stayed true to it, and worked with legends without chasing the spotlight.

"Em," Dre said, gesturing her forward. "This is Genji."

Her smile was small but genuine, and when she looked at Eminem, she held his gaze longer than most people did. Relaxed, but deliberate. "Hey," she greeted quietly, her voice smooth and calm. "Nice to finally meet you. Dre's told me a lot."

"Yeah?" he replied, tilting his head as he eyed her cautiously. "Dre's been talkin' you up for a while, too."

Behind her, the said man chuckled under his breath. Crossing his arms, like he predicted what was to come, he added, "Told you, she don't need hype."

"He's overselling it," Genji said softly, her tone sincere. "I'm just here to help."

There was no arrogance, no false modesty either. It threw Eminem off. He was used to people coming into the studio hungry and ready with something to prove. But she was different: quiet, almost mild, but not meek. Yet, her words landed like she meant them. She didn't even need to impress anyone like the rest. She was the impression.

For a moment, he hesitated. Part of him still didn't know if this would work. He admired her, sure. But after everything he'd been through — everything he'd lost — what if nothing could pull him back? What if not even someone like her could light the fire again?

"Alright," he said finally, gesturing toward the chair across from him. "Let's see what you got."

Genji smiled faintly and stepped forward, the quiet confidence in her steps carrying more weight than words ever could. He watched her, pen still in hand, a flicker of something unfamiliar breaking through the fog.

[beneathsakurashade]

why did my favorite game turn into a dating sim? twst x gen reader (crack fic) CH 1: Bro got half a braincell

Intro CH:2 CH: 3

You were bored, like really bored.     So now you were sitting on the mattress that you called a bed while reading fanfics that hadn’t been touched by their authors after almost five years.  Scrolling absentmindedly through A03 you stumbled upon a new fic that somehow escaped your search.  It was titled 𝕋𝕨𝕤𝕥: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕚𝕞, in that font, just published mere minutes ago.  “Well, there’s nothing else that I want to read” you shrug and tap to open your newest discovery.  You’re greeted by a page that is blank, completely barren of words, “Is my wifi bad?” You mutter and reload the page. The page remains blank, “Wait no summary? No chapter title? Nothing?” You stare confused at your screen Did someone forget to write anything and just press post? you think attempting to exit out of the fic.  You feel nothing but a sudden fear as you shut your eyes and feel a rush of cold air and cobblestone as you hit the ground.  "Ow...the hell?" you cry and step up "Ah, good you're here!"

     An unfamiliar voice calls out and you hear someone walking over to you.  You look up to face a man wearing a bird-like mask and dressed in rich attire.  “And you are?” You ask unamused.  “I am Dire Crowley, headmage of Night Raven College!” He smiles “All I heard was that I’m a stranger and I brought you here” you retort.  “That is correct! I brought you here from your world for a once in a lifetime opportunity!” Not convinced you continue “If that once in a lifetime opportunity doesn’t include free food and housing I don’t want it-” Crowley interrupts your comment “Trust me, your food and housing will be completely covered! For I am so gracious! Now follow me, for I shall tell you why I brought you here on the way to my office”.  I don’t suppose that I have much of a choice… you think to yourself “Alright bird man, let’s get going”.  You follow this Dire Crowley through what appears to be a school, there’s people your age walking around in uniforms of various colors.  Some are holding textbooks, some are discussing yesterday’s homework and some are using their movement time to nap on the benches. 

You both arrive at his office and he opens the door, you sit yourself down at the chair in front of his desk.  “Now explain why I’m here” You start and watch as he summons papers into his hand and places them on his desk.  “You are to be part of a special program here at Night Raven College, a program which includes teaching our students about the married life.  If they so desire to partake in it later in life” Crowley explains.  You nod and pause “Wait…so what does teaching your students about being married have to do with me?” inwardly you think Okay...this is definitely not the NRC I'm used to, there's no such thing as a marriage program.  He explains further “Well you see, I have contacted your siblings, and they say that this experiment would do good for you! So this is a win win situation for us yes?” nodding slowly you pause and mutter "Wait...why does this feel familiar?"  Stiffening you realize that you were summoned into the world of Twisted Wonderland, right in the middle of Night Raven College, a school full of cute guys...and a deadbeat principal...

    You gaze at the first page in the small stack that you were given, at the top there’s a section for your basic info.  Filling the first page out you flip over to the back, there are a few more basic questions, like what’s your best subject, your hobbies, and your likes and dislikes.  After filling out the first page you turn to the second, which has information about a young man named Riddle Rosehearts, there’s no photo set for either of you.  You knew a lot about Riddle, Twisted Wonderland was your current hyperfixation, so you knew damn well about everything for every character, you could probably be like Azul and blackmail everyone at school with the dirt you had on them.  Still, it was strange having their info presented to you on a sheet of paper, you usually used the wiki to get your info, wait...what if you get your own twst wiki page?  What if someone is studying your page like you studied your favorite boys'?  Shuddering at the thought you look through the what was written on the pages, Age 20...wait wasn't he seventeen in the original game? Is this an au or something? Birthday is August 24th, homeland is Queendom of Roses, man I wish my homeland was called that tbh... Best subject is practical magic…whatever that is.  He’s in the Equestrian club, righttt, I forgot that NRC is a rich kid school, ain't no way my school has the budget for horses.  Ughhh my sister was a horse girl, I do not wanna handle more seasons of Heartland.  Hobby is hedgehog tending? That sounds awfully cute, bro better share them hedgehog tending responsibilities.  Pet peeve is rulebreaking? I mean it depends I guess, like some rules are dumb, and some aren’t so… Favorite food is strawberry tarts, sounds yummy, least fave food is junk food, oop bro is gonna hate my fave foods.  Talent is being fast at solving crossword puzzles? Mine is probably being fast at Fruit Ninja-. 

Crowley snaps and breaks you out of your thoughts, “So what do you think of your first partner Mx. L/N?” you try to keep as calm as possible (as one can when they get the news that they're going to be marrying a character from their favorite game) and cough.  "He seems interesting, so when do I get to meet him?”     “Quite soon Mx. L/N, after school today you both will meet.  Then tomorrow you will both attend classes together, and share a dorm room”.  “You want me to share a room with a stranger?” “Fear not Mx. L/N, there will be separate beds, and our students are very respectful.  If anything arises please report to Mr. Crewel, he will deal with such things swiftly”.  "Sure whatever you say..." you mutter and ask what happens now, trying to meet Riddle as soon as possible.  You walk alongside Crowley as he leads you to an empty classroom with a single student inside.  Sitting down at a desk with his head buried deep within a book, the only thing that you can see is two strands of strawberry red hair.  Sits the familiar sight of a particular rule obsessed student.  “Uh, Riddle, right?” You peep up and he looks up at you “Oh hello, you must be the student that the Headmage told me about” you nod in response.  “Yea I am, so uh…what do we do now?” You look behind you and notice that Crowley is gone, “Did he just leave? Bruh, guys always do this…” you remark sighing.  "Shall we introduce each other properly?" Riddle suggests and you shrug.  He stands up from his seat "My name is Riddle Rosehearts, Housewarden of Heartslabyul, it is an honor to meet you.  I do hope that our partnership shall be enjoyable".  You smile "I'm Y/N L/N, uhhh, an average college student.  It's nice to meet you".  

A/N: guys this is a cringey I know lol, this is basically for me to practice my writing. also fun fact the chapter titles r from wattpad comments. ok I'll go now bye :>

[iamnmbr3]

Let me start by saying that I adore your meta. It's some of the most thorough, well-reasoned hp analysis I've come across & you have a talent for tenderly mining and polishing canon connections I've never considered. You've put into words so many of my feelings about drarry, hinny, and the characters as a whole -- why I love them, why I struggle with them, and why they still compel me after all these years. I'm slowly chipping away at your blog and won't stop until I get to page 1 I've found myself very taken with the Slytherins lately--especially characters like Millicent and Daphne, who are either offhand names or caricatures, as well as some of the older Slytherins we see mentioned, who seem to stay largely out of the war (or at least aren't important enough to it for a mention). There are a lot of widely accepted fanon personalities/interpersonal dynamics for the Slytherins, and they're always fun to delve into. But I often find myself struggling to separate canon from fanon. Do you have any thoughts on what we can extrapolate about the Slytherins in canon (apart from "mean, ugly, & stupid/vapid" as jkr describes nearly every Slytherin but Draco)? And if not, do you have any blogs/posts to recommend on the topic?

Wow. What can I even say. I've been staring at this ask since I received it feeling so warmed by your words. Thank you very much for such high compliments. It always thrills me to hear that people get some enjoyment/mental stimulation out of this blog and that my little ramblings are of interest to others.

To some extent, since the other Slytherins aren't that well developed (due to the fact that Harry was too busy constantly staring at Draco to notice anything about them - I mean he literally doesn't even know Theodore Nott's NAME till he sees him spending more time with Draco) there's a lot of room for people to come up with their own interpretations of their personalities.

That said, there is some info in canon we can go off of. For example, we see Pansy hanging out with Draco a lot more than Millicent or Daphne. We also know that none of their parents were Death Eaters. And given that Millicent and Daphne seem to stay away from Draco more later, maybe their families aren't quite as into the whole blood purist stuff as Pansy and her family are. Especially Daphne does not seem to really participate in any of the bullying we see a lot of the Slytherins take part in.

Personally, I always headcannoned that Daphne never liked Draco very much and that while she did hold some anti-muggle and anti-muggleborn biases (similar to those held by most of the wizarding world), her attitudes were more on the level of those held by Fudge or Crouch and she never actually went in for any of the extremist blood purist beliefs or supported the Death Eaters or even had attitudes as extreme as Walburga Black (who thought the Death Eaters mostly had the right idea even if they went about it the wrong way). I also think she didn't much like the pettier behaviors Draco engaged in - the boasting, the bullying, the mockery, not to mention the weird Potter obsession - (or that the people Draco hung out with engaged in). I think she probably found him stuck up and arrogant and vaguely unsavory and tended to avoid him, even if she wasn't as horrified or enraged by him using slurs like Mudblood as someone like Ron or Harry would be.

I like the idea that after the war she and her sister changed their minds about their beliefs about muggles and muggleborns - even if they were never quite as extreme to begin with as those held by some. I headcanon that they two of them were both back at Hogwarts during Draco's 8th year - and that they actually ended up striking up a friendship - once the realized that he'd changed. After all, they were housemates for years. Plus they ran in similar social circles. And they all changed their minds, so that's a common bond. Daphne tells Draco point blank that she always thought he was a stuck up twat and Draco agrees that he was, which breaks the ice.

As for Pansy, I actually think she was more of a hanger on than a true friend. I thinks he and Draco drifted apart in 7th year. I don't especially like characterizations that whitewash the bad things she did - either the bullying or the bigotry or the "rying to hand harry in to Voldemort thing - or that turn her into some ooc mary sue girlboss with no personality other than being a genius who is great at everything and also getting to be mean with no consequences because she's so cool so no one cares I guess. That's not to say I don't enjoy fics with Draco/Pansy friendship if it's done right. But yeah, based on actual canon I see her moving on to the next person once Draco's fortunes were shown to have irrevocably fallen by book 7. Plus it's arguable that she always expected to marry Draco since he was the best match (thru book 6 anyway) but that she always secretly harbored feelings for Blaise. And after the war she got to act on that. After all, in the train scene in book 6 she seems awfully interested in what girls Blaise likes.

For Millicent we have even less. We know she was a bully. I don't like seeing that ignored or seeing her girlbossified. I do like the idea of her going thru her own little redemption arc and trying to make something of herself. I also imagine that she and Draco kind of drifted apart though. I think she ever became a completely nice person, but I like the idea of her apologizing to Hermione and them ending up at the Ministry together and kind of tolerating each other - just one of the many instances of strange, uncomfortable relationships that pop up in the post-war wizarding society as it tries to put itself together.

As for Crabbe & Goyle, I really hate how often fandom seems to forget or gloss over the fact that both of them were actively participating in torturing other students and seemingly very into it. I think the way Draco treated them - as henchmen/servants - always grated on them but they accepted it due to the relative statuses of their families. When the power dynamic between them shifts though, starting book 6 but really post book 6, they seem to revel in Draco's degradation and fall from grace (and we even see hints of that earlier, like them laughing when Draco gets beaten up by Harry in book 5 and not intervening). I find that super fascinating, and I think they are darker, more twisted characters than people tend to give them credit for. Given all this, I don't see Draco and Goyle staying friends post war and I never get why Goyle having been an enthusiastic participant in the Death Eaters' crimes (in a way that Draco never was) so often gets forgotten. Usually post war he gets reduced to a simple minded sad boi who Draco needs to look after. And I'm just like ??? Where?? Especially given that the alternative provides so much more interesting story fodder.

[jackhues]

(mockingbird au!) mother's day - platonic!hughes

request: okay hear me out for your mockingbird au maybe it’s mother’s day or father’s day and un buys a gift of either jim or ellen and a little card with something like to the second mom i always wanted 🥺🫶🏼

requested by: anon : )

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gif not mine!

"ooh, this one's cute," you held up a card.

jack looked up from the corny jokes he was reading on the other cards, looking through the one you picked out.

the two of you were doing mother's day card shopping for ellen, but couldn't decide on one card. you'd already bought a cute gift from the both of you, but the card was one place you and jack couldn't agree.

"i just think she'll like the jokes more," jack said, holding up his corny joke-filled card.

"it's ellen, not jim," you reminded him.

"but this one's so funny," he tried again, reading one of the jokes and laughing like a four year old.

"let's just get both cards," you decided, placing them in the shopping cart. "one from each of us. that way, we can write her a personalized message."

"i like that idea," jack smiled. "why didn't i think of it?"

you laughed, "that's something i'd rather not get into right now. c'mon. we still need to get wrapping paper."

--

you tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, stumped as to how to write the card. sure, you'd written cards before, but never one for ellen.

this was your first mother's day being jack's girlfriend, and in such a short amount of time, ellen had already become more of a mom to you than your own mother.

she was supportive and kind, cheering you on whenever you needed her.

she was caring and sweet, always ready to be your shoulder to cry on if needed.

she was always there for you, taking you in as if you were her own child.

she was the one who showed you what a mother's love should look like.

how could you ever convey all that in a single card?

you stared at the blank page, promising yourself you'd try.

--

"where's my phone?" you moved the couch pillows, trying to find it.

jack patted the ground, helping you in your search. your ringtone had been blaring for a while, but you had no idea where it was.

"oh, here it is!" jack pulled it out from under his coffee table triumphantly. "look, it's my mom!"

"hurry and answer it," you told him. "i don't want her to hang up."

he fumbled for a second, before answering the facetime message. "hi mom!"

"hi jackie," ellen waved, sniffling slightly. "where's y/n? i want to see her."

"i'm right here, ellen," you said, taking the phone from jack and waving to his mom. her eyes were watery, and she kept sniffling on the facetime. "what's wrong? are you crying?"

jack looked up at that, noticing his mom's teary eyes and shaky voice.

"it's a good kind of crying, i promise," she laughed a little. "your card, it was so beautiful. i just, i loved it so much. the way you--" she shook her head, wiping her eyes, "i just loved it, y/n. and you should know, i'm glad you and jack met. i'm glad i was able to show you all of that, to be all of that for you. because i promise, you mean just as much to me."

"now you're gonna make me cry," you laughed to try and stop the tears.

ellen laughed as well, the two of you doing your best to keep the tears at bay. it was a special moment for you two, being able to share how important you were to each other.

at least until jack continued, "i'm so fucking confused right now."