#it seems that there is something else afoot
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Chapter two coming UP, on Ao3 HERE as well.
~
So at first she'd lost her new notebook, which was all sorts of awful. She just got that, dammit! And had wrapped something up in record time, too!
She knew she'd left it on her nightstand, she couldn't be convinced otherwise either, but where did it go!? She was gone five fucking minutes!
All that wasted time and effort, with the haunting sense she wasn't alone. And in Amity, that meant so much more than it should!
But whatever. She could deal. Or at least pretend to until she could harass her brother, the most likely culprit for this. She hoped it was burning his eyes, sticky fingered little....
So she'd crawled back into bed and curled up, and set aside the steaming rage to be hashed out at the dinner table over cereal. Mom usually wasn't well humored to her making things public, but dad was still mad enough about the riding lawnmower that he'd be ready to take reasons to pile-drive the no electronics mandate for even longer. Wrong move, turd.
And curled on her side, she fell asleep after some not that set aside rage. The reckoning would be afoot come six am.
But she'd woken up suddenly, or at least... she thought she did. Maybe. Unlikely, now that she thinks about it.
All she'd heard as the folds of her comforter revealed nothing was chuckling, before a voice she felt like she should know spoke.
"Pardon the interruption, but I think this story needs its star actor, yes?"
Suddenly, she was thrown in someone's arms.
Under different circumstances she'd aim towards making fun of their clothes, but, well...
It was undeniably a well put together fantasy costume. The sort of thing she'd pick out for one of the guys, if they'd have the intelligence to get her help for any costume parties.
Though, it was definitely sparking a familiar mental image right now...
Arms were wrapped around her, hoisting her back upwards enough to get her feet under her and peel back from them a little bit.
Which is about where it all made some sense.
His hair was messily styled; the right balance of non effort while still being meticulous to the trained eye. His fur pauldrons framed his startled look as the cape swished back with all the sudden movement.
And above all else, he was holding her...
Officially, pinch her. This was too much to wake up to.
Or not, given the scene...
It was straight out of her notebook. She was the only being in existence that knew what was in there, and this wasn't something her brother could rig up. He'd be a freak to try doing something like this, besides.
It's not like you can slap a white wig on Mikey or Dash and call it good, this was clearly Phantom in front of her, and this simply had to be The Evergreen Field!
Phantom- the prince- shifted from her, looking over her form extremely carefully.
Right, right, it's weird and strange for some random girl to appear and be enthused at him.
Hell, what were his lines? It can't be that hard.
"Ma'dam, I do believe that's a new one." Phantom tittered, just so slightly breathless.
"An entrance for the age. Although... perhaps..." He trailed, shifting his arms up to her hands.
"Lady Manson may well keep the top spot." He clicked, seemingly extremely put off.
That... wasn't it, but it was close enough!
"Oh sir, how curious that makes me of this wild lady Manson!" She quipped, giggling.
Hey, no, wait. She knows that last name. Why's that name in her book?
Maybe... She's read before that the brain will pull from people and things it knows in sleep, so that's gotta be it.
Because if this is real...
Frightening thought..
~
("I know you can hear me. You wouldn't dare not be listening in to my thoughts if only to make fun of me more. We can discuss this, and come to some sort of peace.")
("Don't you like it, child? She seems so fond of you, it'd be a shame denying her her fantasies!")
("I know you know I know, you're making fun of me and that is bait. Ha ha, make me flip over being the valiant white knight prince in one of your stories, get her outta here you damn creep!)
("Oh child, this one isn't mine. I took the liberty of polishing it up some , but this story is all hers... Won't you make her dreams, her fantasies, come to... such life?"
Smug bastard speaking in riddles, struggling to finish his own goddamn sentences.
Or... No. Wait. This cannot possibly be this straight forward. Oh, what a mess this is!
His tongue was only slightly unstuck though, meaning he was still going to have a very bad time with speaking normally.
But god, her surprised enthusiasm was clearly waning to concern and fear.
""Ma'dam, I do believe that's a new one. An entrance for the age. Although... perhaps... Lady Manson may well keep the top spot."
No, no, no! That should've been ,,I haven't seen an entrance like that since a friend of mine crashed the chandelier into a ball"!!
Not that that was an entrance, but still!
("Unhand my tongue, wretched puppet master.") He spat, cringing as Ghost Writer cackled. Not even his projected thoughts were safe?
"Oh sir, how curious that makes me of this wild lady Manson!" She laughed, bouncing back to enthused and looking at him like there was no danger going on right now. For a split second her smile tightened, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.
"A fair lady friend of mine, who's of no relevance presently. Did the fall hurt?" He pressed, trying to ignore how the words tripped over his lips ever so lamely.
He was super gonna kill Ghost Writer a second time for this one, mark his words!
"Nope! I'm a-okay here, mister Phantom." She grinned, pleased with his attention. Fucks sake…
"Such a fall could certainly harm any-"
"Sheesh, lay off! It was just onto you, sir." She laughed, shoving him lightly and peeling off of him to look at the sunlit field.
She swayed slightly, her own eagerness to stand up properly and keep on staring, thankfully dragging her eyes off of him and looking excited at the damn horse.
This was going to be a big migraine, and it hadn't even really started! The anglerfish would be better right now, at least innocents wouldn't be with him!
("I'm completely innocent of all crimes, and you need to let her go no matter what you think you're going to accomplish.") Danny shot at Ghost Writer, gritting his teeth into the absurd grin Ghost Writer was clearly typing onto him for this.
The clicking of the typewriter halted, Danny's hopes indulging a doomed little dream before whatever overwrought wit Ghost Writer had could be dropped onto him.
("Nah.")
Nah? Just nah? Uncreative much!
The keys resumed, and the smile on his face didn't get to drop as Paulina went and stumbled over her own feet, stand- ("You did NOT give her kitten pumps in a fucking grass field! You did NOT in fact do-")
("What of it, child? Besides, this is her choice! It's what she imagined herself dressed in!") Ghost Writer snapped back instantly at him, the type-writer pausing seconds after as Paulina seemed to freeze on the spot with Danny's hands moving to steady her.
("Why do you know women's heel types, devil child?") Ghost Writer asked.
While he sounded sincere in asking this, Danny didn't trust that information to stay as idle curiosity. His own words could and would be used against them both to who knows what sorts of effects.
"Madam, are you certain you feel alright?" Danny tried pressing, ignoring Ghost Writer with a pointed mental shove between them.
("Suit yourself child. It won't get you out of this to be oh so petulant to me.") Ghost Writer huffed, continuing to write.
"Yup!" She chirped back, smiling like there wasn't a manic reality altering ghost puppeting this whole strange situation.
The horse very conveniently made noise, and Danny faintly wished Sam was here to be a better social example than his pathetic attempts could ever be.
But then there'd be more swearing and violence if she had actually been with him, so maybe it was better in the short term that she wasn't to cause them hell.
"Well my lady, if you insist on your good health then we should be quick to exit this place, before something else happens here." He said, sharply gesturing to the horse.
("I can fly and carry her ya loser.")
("Bold of you to try and debate the horse.")
"Ahh, but we haven't really done... Yeah, sure." Paulina said, cautiously agreeing.
Feet! Lift! From ground! Fly! Fly, goddamnit, fly fly!
“Do what? I find there little to have done.” Danny asked blankly, watching her wobble.
Too many lectures from Sam about the variety of girly shit her mom had tried to put her in left him with far too much knowledge about death traps, formally known as the dreaded high heels, to let him be comfortable with her wobbling around in a grass field. His limbs refused to obey his attempts to reach out to Paulina to help though.
“I find it’s not really important now.” She snipped, approaching the horse to mount it.
To Paulina’s credit she had clearly ridden horses before this weirdo kidnapping, not struggling as Danny looked away.
“You seem embarrassed, my good sir. Why’s that?” She asked, clearly only half serious.
Time ticked slowly as Ghost Writer rewrote his totally witty comeback to her.
“While a pretty dress, I find that they’re bad for hiding a woman's undergarments.” He grit out past Ghost Writers influence.
Paulina slowly turned red and nodded.
(“Is it too crass to say I don’t want to see her underwear in full brazen sight? This horse is absurdly tall compared to us and it’s pretty logical to say.”) Danny pressed Ghost Writer, greatly annoyed.
(“Prince charming cannot say the word panties.”) Ghost Writer staunchly informed him, rude too.
(“Okay. But I wasn’t-”) +
(“Don't lie to me.”)
Danny did not grace that with an answer, watching as Paulina shifted around.
(“Okay, genius, now get me on the horse.”)
(“Can you not ride? I thought that you’ve been on-”)
Danny gave the mental equivalent of a hard stare, not one for this nonsense.
His limbs moving on their own never got any easier than the first instance, the anglerfish a distant memory of a better run in with Ghost Writer.
“Now my lady, might I now ask your name?” Danny asked, letting Ghost Writer take charge.
(“Two ‘now’s? Run out of words?”)
(“Shove it, you brat.”)
Paulina was busy wrapping her arms around his waist as they mocked each other, not yet giving an answer for her name.
“It’s just Paulina, my good sir Phantom.” She muttered through his over fancy clothes, sounding family embarrassed to say it.
“Pretty enough. Prettier most names.” He reassured, making the horse start forth.
“Thank you for your kind words, but I don’t think-” She attempted, squirming as she spoke up.
”Pretty enough to announce to the ball.” He continued, cringing as he realized.
Today was gonna be so, so painful.
I've been Isekaied into Paulina's Novel?!
Welcome to the fic for the EctoImposion 2024 event! I was paired with @thebooo-merang for this wonderful fic, and you should go check them out! And check out the ao3 posting HERE
After an incident with Box Ghost solicits a fight with Ghost Writer, Ghost Writers out for revenge. And Paulina has a convenient little fanfiction that Ghost writer could use. Now Danny just has to survive it, with a starstruck Paulina in tow.
The first chapter doesn't especially need warnings, as everything remains cannon typical. It's under the cut!
~
"Get back here!" Danny shouted, ready to be done with wit for today.
"I, THE BOOOX GHOOOST, WILL-"
"Piss off Ghost Writer!" Do you just break into random lairs in search of weird boxes!?" Danny screeched, trying to dive after a flying notebook.
"I, THE BOX GHOST, WILL-" Box shouted over Danny, waving wildly as he went and sending even more boxes and books flying back and forth.
"RUIN WHAT LITTLE TRUCE I'VE GOT GOING WITH HIM!" Danny cut back, struggling to grab books mid-air with one arm and blast Boxy into submission with the other.
"THE BOX GHOST HAS NO NEED FOR LECTURES ON YOUR INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS! PREPARE TO BE DESTROYED!"
Danny was gonna kill him this time!
~
Boxes and books rained over the town, causing havoc and mild property damage to the unprepared. Paulina could only huff and puff as she bolted across the open street from shop to shop, trying to find somewhere to camp out while Phantom dealt with the box menace, trying to keep an eye out for whatever storefront Star had managed to find for herself.
Another keeper kept their shoulder into the door as she pushed, and bitterly she cursed them out. She probably didn't get any sympathetic glances through the wood door, but whatever! Rude ass motherfuckers locking out innocents while there was an attack!
It was tempting to keep under the eave, but beyond being mere cloth too much was getting tossed around- plenty enough room for something to slam in sideways and get her then!
God! One good day is all she wanted right now.
Though a few more after wouldn't go amiss...
There! The geek shit shop was probably going to let her in! Maybe!
She didn't care, actually, she'd punch through the glass if she had to! Take that, losers!
First, she needed the mental psyche up to dart across the road again. Three, two, one, go!
The owner, or possible customer, waved behind the glass as she ran.The door opened and closed near instantaneously on her entry.
The sound of Phantom yelling at The Box Ghost dampened as the bell rang, and the store owner gave her an uneasy smile and gestured towards the windowless back.
“Everyone’s in the back. Might be cramped by now, but there’s a lot of shelves to sit behind.” He nervously informed, eyeing the glass windows.
The casual thumbs up sent him away as she bent slightly to wheeze out the adrenaline.
Yeah, cheer takes some stamina, but adrenaline really messes up her rhythm!
Breath caught, it was time to pack in with the other unlucky idiots back here. With care and precision she marched over behind the popular shelf, examined the bodies packed like sardines, and picked a new shelf to hide behind.
This one was packed with books instead of weird anime figures and dungeons and dragons minis, the spines a cold comfort as she sat down and started staring.
The titles on this sort of crap were so weird…
But she supposed Star seemed to enjoy them, Star's rants echoing clearly in her head.
She wouldn’t admit it with a gun to her head, but after enough of those rants… she may or may not be able to pick out a few of the series on display.
Sue her, she's a sucker for some of the romances even if they were trashy a lot of the time. And Star's collection at this rate was pretty impressive, to the point Paulina was convinced she was the only reason a store like this could keep afloat in a town like Amity.
The other nerd shit probably helped it keep alive, though. More screaming outside, this time sounding like it was from The Box Ghost in rage. Good. Phantom could pummel that no good fool to goo for what it mattered.
... Ugh. The fight could easily take a long time; Box Ghost might be weak, but he clearly had a lot of material to use this time. But whatever. Here she is in a castle of weeb books. Maybe some could be a good distraction.
~
"No! Not you!"
"Yes, me! Did you think you could trash my library and get away with it!?" Ghost Writer roared, trying to come up from behind.
"It wasn't me, it was-"
But Box Ghost was already gone, the leftover boxes of books now floating to the ground in a suspiciously gentle manner.
Coward. The thought wouldn't leave as Danny shifted the books he'd been trying to save around, awkwardly offering the armful to Ghost Writer.
Ghost Writer loomed ominously.
~
All at once the outside world went quiet, some shouting occasionally coming close enough to hear, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief loud enough to drag Paulina from her pile of books.
Five more minutes would've been great to finish the book she'd had in hand, not that it mattered...
Now she needed to find where Star ran off to without her, the books carefully left behind in a pile.
Phantom and a ghost she couldn’t recognize quipped back and forth, the day still significantly quieter than it had been fifteen minutes before. The area remained strewn with books, the ghost gesturing to some on a roof.
Now, she could walk around the district lost and confused looking for Star... Or just sit back down on a nice ledge and wait for Star to come to her while watching Phantom.
Phantom made an odd twist in the air as he shouted, still a little too distant to make out properly.
Yeah, watching sounded so much safer and calmer. One hop later and she was perched on top of one of the lower walls purporting to be defensive.
Fat lot of good they did...
Phantom and his assailant came closer, lending her a nice view of what was going on.
Maybe she shouldn't be here, but it seemed to be more arguing than fighting, so whatever.
"While I'm sorry my NOT PARTNER didn't have a spine, you can have yours back!" Phantom shouted as they passed overhead, throwing a book at the weird ghost.
She had to huff out a clipped laugh as the ghost was whacked, even as the ghost elected to bolt as it realized its inferiority.
She could just hear the stunned silence from Phantom, right before he cried out "Get back here!"
Truly, a foolish thing to think it could stand up to the town hero.
With a certain lack of ceremony, the book the from the fight fell onto her
"Ouch!" She yelped, one hand raising to rub her scalp as the other fumbled for the offending book.
The whole thing might be a sign it's time to get up and go. Still...
"Raining books is a new one." She muttered, far too late for the comment to be witty but all the same a perfectly serious remark on the latest weird shit Amity came up with.
She cautiously eyed the book in her hands, looking for any oddities. You could never quite trust some of this stuff...
It was just a notebook. Nothing special about it, besides being a trophy for today. The decoration and signature on front was incomprehensible to her, an initial she didn't recognize against the slightly plain front.
Caving to curiosity, the book opened easily. Not that she���d expected anything else.
It revealed... nothing. Nothing at all. None of the pages had any sort of writing in them.
Well she can't be begrudged for snooping- it's her prize right now. An apology for getting assaulted in broad daylight. This G-W could just deal with it, and the spat was already away from her, so it's not like she was going to be in more danger sitting here.
The blank notebook continued to be uninteresting, and she couldn’t help her annoyance as she shut it. There wasn’t a damn thing to pay her back for getting hit.
Or... well...
She could feel her lip work up into a slight smirk.
I have been wanting to write a new Phantom fic...
The thought was clear as day to her, even as she couldn't wait for the night. What better way to celebrate this particular trophy?
~
Ghost Writer was forced to watch on in abject misery as he realized his collection had been tossed around like a toddler’s toys. No respect whatsoever from the box obsessed lunatic for the actual contents of the boxes.
The nerve! The audacity! To treat his writing like this! The ghost may well need a lesson in manners.
But first, Phantom.
Sure, the boy wasn't the sole force at work- but undeniably the lunatic never would've gotten close to his manuscripts if Phantom hadn't been snooping around in his library.
But don't think he's lost the plot of getting his own books tossed at him! The tactical retreat was nothing more than an admission of lack of home turf!
Nothing to do with not having his typewriter or any notebooks activated!
Ahem... So the child would need an appropriate punishment as well.
Sometime after he collected his books
The whole lot of them, all across town! Lunatics.
It was easy enough to threaten people away from his scripts, but nonetheless annoying and time consuming. Go here, show up there, yell to get their grubby mitts off his stuff.
Ugh.
The annoyance was the cost of getting everything back. though. He pointedly ignored Phantom’s continued patrolling, likely looking for whatever trap Ghost Writer would end up creating.
Easy enough to stay low and out of sight in the meantime. Whatever he was about to do, it wasn't a ‘now’ plan. Such things take planning, and unfortunately it's not the season to stick the boy back into Christmas stories.
So he was collecting his books, and chasing fools away from them. The cost of love, he supposed.
Still, he was being forced to waste hours upon hours taking his books out of the hands of fools. Having such a collection was not currently a point of pride; He’d have to figure out what went where later.
Slowly but surely his boxes filled back up as he found his manuscripts. There was his old horror story from the eighties, there was his attempt at something akin to a superhero comic, there was his dabbling in... well he couldn't remember either, but if he sat to read it right now it'd take hours for him to finish the book. No reading for him.
Finally, it was time to find his blank notebooks again. He'd be forced to admit that he simply cared less if these ones vanished mysteriously, for a blank notebook was nothing more or less than a possibility.
Most were alright, scattered down the streets carelessly. Some had been picked up and put back down to be examined by wretched hands at a later date.
There was an exception though, something swaying as if held at the edge of where he could feel things. Curious, for how late at night it was getting, but that'd just mean he needed to scare another pathetic mortal off his books.
The pull and search brought him to a cracked window in the suburbs. Nothing meaningful crossed his path, though it was good to be wary; The boy was likely still patrolling, and no doubt Ghost Writer's appearance had put him on edge. As it should.
Slowly rising up to look through, invisible to the mortal eye, he could hear a girl rambling slightly.
His look through the window was enlightening, the girl curled onto her bed as she wrote with ink that even from this distance sparkled with glitter.
"And then Princess Paulina lived happily ever after with Prince Phantom, aaannd the end." She whispered, pleased with herself.
Barely pausing, she snapped the book shut and laid it on her nightstand, moving to stand and stretch.
Shouting called her away, which was plenty convenient for him even as she huffed and puffed out of the room.
It was child's play to take the notebook back, even with it defiled by mortal hands. It wasn't a toy to be left with creatures that didn't understand what could be done with such tools.
The cover had already been decorated with a couple of stickers and a flowing cursive he couldn't bother deciphering at this second.
Phasing back out of the room and coming to rest back outside of the window, he flipped the cover open. The inside was decorated similarly.
Oh, yes. That was glitter pen. The pages were coming away bedazzled with runaway glitter.
This book was most certainly going to have to be put in its own container, but for right this second the name on the inside was of modest curiosity.
Paulina Sanchez in bold strokes, fancy flourishes forgone in favor of legibility. If found, return to owner, do not read.
Well now he just had to, didn't he? It wasn't like the rest of the books were going anywhere, the grand total of three he still had to find now could rest safely.
Or well... No, he could spare the time now> What would the boy do, if it blows up on them both? The books shouldn't even be in the town anyways, and it was most certainly his fault thank you very much!
He quickly leafed through the beginning burning through thanks to his superior-ness and a speed reading class he'd attended before.
... hmm.
Hmmmmm.
He'd recently been complaining about what to do with the boy, no?
"This could work." He spoke to no-one, clapping the book shut. For now.
~
Barely past sunrise, Danny squinted at the sky and grumbled. Damn malicious blob ghosts, eating billboards.
Not that he cares about the billboards, but first it's a billboard and then it's drywall.
"Catch!" Got shouted, an object (presumably) sailing from behind him.
Snapping too and turning, he could see Ghost Writer grin manically in glee as a book opened wide.
All he could do was choke out an "eh?" as he reflexively reached, the book splayed open and glowing. Illustory pages floated up and off, and he had a really bad feeling about what was coming next as the world around him went white.
~
Coming to under Ghost Writers writing was not a fun thing to experience, see. One did not simply fade into one of his chaotic and weirdly random worlds. You blink and then suddenly you're just there!
Danny was there, wherever there was. Somewhere was currently a bright grass field, with a decorated horse beside him.
Which he would grant was a better entrance than the last time he'd been flung into one of Ghost Writer's many insane stories.
He would never forget that anglerfish...
But almost just as fast as he got here there was another stupidly bright light, and someone was falling into his arms, briefly bundled into his chest before quickly popping back up to look at him.His tongue was stuck in a way that implied Ghost Writer had ideas about what he should or shouldn't be saying at this time, but that didn't stop the extremely strained noise he gave when he realized the person was Paulina, looking VERY enthused.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#paulina sanchez#ghost writer (danny phantom)#fanfiction#long#ectoimplosion2024#isekai#transported into another world
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alright watcherinas let’s theorize ! ✨
#i think it’s gonna be the official announcement of steven and andrews new show bc they’ve been teasing it throughout the season#i do also think something else might be afoot bc it seems like Such A Big announcement#my hope beyond hope is www3 but i don’t know if we’ll ever see her again#i like the idea of them having something like dropout which is what i’ve seen a few people theorize already but i’m not sure they’d go that#big rn#would love that for them tho#maybe another new show as well or new puppet hisotry but this feels bigger than a show that already exists idk#WHAT DO YALL THINK#watcher#watcher tv#ryan bergara#shane madej#steven lim
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"Do you miss it? The Order?" "I miss... the idea of it. But not the truth, the weakness. There was no future there." OKAY, THIS MAN MISSES THE ORDER SOOOOOOOOOOO BAD IT MAKES HIM LOOK STUPID
I'm serious. He's carrying the husk of his long-ossified grief so obviously. It is evident in everything he does and says that he was a young knight absolutely ripped to shreds by Order 66 and its lonely, dark aftermath. He allowed despair to be his comfort, convincing himself there's nothing to mourn because it's easier than dealing with the loss.
#star wars#ahsoka show#baylan skoll#grace for ts#hes also one of the most undramatic reasoanble-seeming darksiders ive ever encountered#will he eventaully start frothing at the mouth??? or is something else afoot???#i'm so interested to find out more. like. WAS he ever an inquisitor or did he retain his freedom and Fall some other way#the way he and his apprentice interact is MCFREAKING fascinating#for darksiders????? they interact so reasonably. so normally. they talk openly. they arent posturing and smirking#and visibly on the edge of a mass murder or eye-twitching nervous breakdown at all times#the only one who comes close that i can think of is dooku. and even he was OTT with his ostentatious dracula persona#everyone else is a cartoon villain. these guys are real people somehow#and i need to know why#whats his plan as well????#the obviousness of his nihilistic despair and the whole 'i seek the beginning. end this cycle once and for all' thing#makes me suspect that he wants to murder suicide the entire galaxy somehow
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NOT SO SECRET — inumaki toge
synopsis: you and toge were having a secret rendezvous, far away from all the others, or so you both thought
tags: fluff, gn reader
word count: 1.4k
“Look at him. He’s infatuated....”
Maki sighed, rolling her eyes at the scene happening around the corner between you and Toge—that is, if she could even see anything, as Panda was practically blocking her vision.
Just peering from the bushes she and Panda were hiding from, they could see you two—very explicitly, she might mention, holding hands.
She knew something was afoot when Toge grabbed you by the hand the second you finished your dinner and dragged you somewhere, unbeknownst to her. Their curiosity was piqued, only for the two to find you two, alone, sitting together on a bench, enjoying each other's company in the moonlight.
Or so you two thought.
Cue having Maki and Panda staring at you two with wide-eyed eyes and curious spirits. Well, for Panda, anyway.
Now, they were a reasonable distance away—enough to see you two together but not enough to hear a word, and neither could you guys.
Maki squinted her eyes, trying to decipher what exactly was going on between you and Toge through the dense and overgrown foliage that was Panda’s ass.
Your silhouette was barely discernible against all the bushes blocking her view and the dimming twilight in the sky, but the subtle gestures and hushed whispers from both your and Toge’s figures spoke volumes.
Maki leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued despite her initial reluctance. She could not lie. Seeing Toge this intimate with someone was somewhat unexpected, unsettling even.
“...Don’t you think that Toge’s demeanour is a lot more, different? We’ve never seen this before from him,” she noted, squinting her eyes at the bench you both were still sitting on, now laughing.
“Shush Maki! We’re getting to the good part!”
Maki sweatdropped at how invested Panda was. At this rate, she may as well think that Panda was also included in your guys’ relationship. “Good part, my ass. The hell are we even stalking them for?”
“For reconnaissance,” Panda replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, yeah. They’re definitely close,” she shrugged begrudgingly, her voice hardly even audible. After all, they were stalking you two from behind the bushes. “But dating? I’m not so sure.”
“What else could it be? Look at the way they’re leaning towards each other like they’re sharing some big secret!” Panda leaned his body forward eagerly, eyes wide with excitement. He appeared to be more invested than Maki was, as if this were all some kind of romance drama in real-time.
But Maki, ever being the voice of reason, remained skeptical, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. “Maybe they’re just friends?” she clicked her tongue sarcastically, still in a whisper. “Ever heard of that? We can’t jump to conclusions based on a few stolen glances.”
But the Panda was undeterred. “I doubt it. I believe that there’s definitely something more. I can feel it in my bones!”
“You’re being delusional.”
“Hello, everyone~!” a voice suddenly interrupted their conversation, startling them into silence.
‘Oh god…’
“It’s your good-looking teacher, Gojo Satoru, here to— What are you both doing, hunched down in the bushes like that? Oh no! Don’t tell me you’re now homeless!”
Maki shot her teacher a withering glare, her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.
“Now, what are you doing here, huh, Satoru?”
“So cruel!” he cried out mockingly, but his trademark arrogance and his shit-eating, mischievous grin were on full display. "I was just thinking of checking in on my favourite students, of course. But it seems like I've stumbled upon something much more interesting."
‘...Ugh.’
That’s it. All hope was lost. A lack of privacy did not exist. Not in Jujutsu Tech, where the most unlikely of people—or animals, for that matter—were always watching.
“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see them here alone again since the last time,” Gojo hummed.
“They’ve been meeting here in this exact spot for the last four days now,” Maki noted. “You think theres something going on that we don’t know about?”
“Well, of course!” Panda said a matter of factly. “Isn’t it clear that they're dating?”
All eyeballs shifted to the scene where they saw Toge holding your hand close to his face, and you leaned on his shoulder. The intimacy between you two was evident even from a distance from where they were watching.
Toge’s fingers brushed past yours before grabbing them firmly, your fingers intertwining with his. Toge's gaze met yours, and a soft smile graced both your lips. A silent exchange of warmth without an onigiri ingredient was said from Toge in sight.
“Oh shit! They’re getting handsy!” Gojo gasped, seeing this happen first-hand.
“Be quiet,” Maki hissed. “You’re loud-ass is going to get us caught.”
“That's right. We’re just getting to the good part!” Panda added with a playful smirk, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle before them. It was comedic, really.
Maki sighed. There really was no reasoning with those idiots…
Gojo bent over to Maki and Panda. “So, are we just waiting for them to make out?”
A tick mark appeared on Maki and Panda’s faces. ‘This guy…’
Just as they were spying on you two, Panda’s hefty weight, along with the shock of Gojo’s surprise appearance, poured over the scene. But their attempt at stealth was quickly foiled as they toppled over each other like a cascade of dominoes, making a loud noise, something that you two very much picked up on in this seemingly quiet space.
Caught off guard, you and Toge stood up and turned towards the commotion, eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes and ears attuned to the noise that had just come unexpectedly from behind where you once sat.
“What the—”
Maki began to sweat. ‘Just great.’
You and Toge, now standing before the toppled mound of bodies, exchanged a puzzled glance, eyebrows raised in surprise, only to be quickly replaced by amusement at the spectacle unfolding before your eyes.
“Salmon salmon.”
“Huh? Maki, Panda, and— Gojo too!?”
Everyone’s necks turned, only to see you and Toge standing before them, holding hands. You and Toge exchanged knowing glances.
“Ahem…” your eyes flushed in embarrassment, your voice faltering as your hand remained enlaced with Toge’s, glued to the moment. “Did you… see everything?”
Caught red-handed, their faces flushed with embarrassment. Well, Maki, mostly. Panda and Gojo could not give a single damn; they were more interested in the fact that you were there.
Finally, they asked the burning question, "Are you and Toge dating?"
They exchanged looks filled with curiosity and anticipation, making you sweat. Their gazes shifted between you and Toge, practically demanding an answer from either of you, clearly not willing to take no for an answer.
There was silence, right before…
“Huh? Oh, yeah, we are.”
“WHAT?!”
“I was right!” Panda started dancing around.
With a tilt of your head, you turned to face the pale blonde, who blinked at you, all with the innocent expression he always had.
“Toge, I thought you said you were going to tell them?”
“Tuna.”
The boy gave you a sheepish expression, Toge’s small muffles speaking through the layered shirt he always wore. You inhaled deeply and continued to hold his hand, tightening your grip. “Don’t worry. I could never get mad at you, Toge. Like, come on, just look at the expressions on their faces. The poor souls.”
‘Huh…?’
Toge's gaze softened at your words as he nodded in agreement. "Salmon roe.”
His expression said it all. It was one of adoration, to be able to hold your hand and spend time with you, that brought him immeasurable joy in his quiet world. One that the others hardly ever saw in the pale-haired boy let alone a mere smile, all but hidden away under his mask, quite literally.
You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his choice of words. You rubbed at his straightened, pale hair, utterly oblivious to the incredulous stares of Maki, Panda, and Gojo.
“Yes, yes, salmon roe,” you replied with a wide grin of your own, feeling a warmth spread fruitfully in your chest as if the three were mere background props in your own quirky sitcom.
As for the second years? Well…
‘Is this supposed to be romantic…?’ they all sweatdropped.
Heaven forbid the words of onigiri ingredients could ever be considered “romantic.”
“Are we… interrupting something personal here?” Panda neared closer to Maki, whispering in her ear, only to receive a punch right in the gullet.
“So, were we the first to learn about your relationship?” Panda sparkled as if they weren’t just interrupting a moment of yours a moment ago, or even that he was just punched. Having a puppy body has its advantages, perhaps.
“Oh,” you blinked. “No. It was Ijichi, actually, a few days ago.”
“SO YOU BOTH WERE GETTING HANDSY!”
“Not really. He walked into the classroom while me and Toge were in the middle of-”
“I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! YOU TWO REALLY WERE MAKING OUT!”
“That’s not it either…”
©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#y/n#gn reader#x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#jjk drabbles#fluff headcanons#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen comfort#fluff#comfort#scenarios#headcanons#drabbles#inumaki toge#inumaki#inumaki x reader#inumaki toge x reader#inumaki toge x you#inumaki x you
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Note
(by the way, if you're interested in what the note says the most accurate translation I've found is by Tumblr user truckfreaks! Thank you so much!!)
"Hello,
My name doesn't matter. I am here to catalogue something I'm not sure is fully real. But it must be. I'm holding all the evidence in my hands. Pictures. Characters. Text I can barely read. It's called "Welcome Home" and it looks like it might've been a children's book? Like I said, I can't tell.
It was sopping wet when I found it. When I first reached into one of the brightly colored envelopes, my hand was already covered in some gross, [unknown - possibly “oozing”] material. It feels like antiques are always covered in some kind of grime. I'm trying to clean up what I have and do a little more digging.
There's only one name I can make out right now... Wally. Probably important, but like I said, I'll keep looking.
XOXO"
Personally, I think this helps confirm that the "oozing" material that grows on the walls of The Room:tm: most likely originates from wherever the packages are being sent from. Also helps boost the idea that it is indeed Wally that drew in the Red Notebook, which is very neat!! it raises so many questions, but is equally fascinating!
Good morning! There is a secret place on the welcome home website- On the exhibition page one of the Answer words is clickable! It takes you to a picture that you can click and then a safe! The password is the answers to the hand out from the exhibition page asking who is the funniest character and who is the star etc. etc.
DISCOVERED HIDDEN PASSWORD PROTECTED PAGE OF THE NEW WELCOME HOME UPDATE
Here's my second attempt at answering this. SO first I had to check out if this is true or not, and I can confirm that it's real! Thanks for this!
HOW TO GET THERE:
On the Playfellow Exhibition page the "answer" to select is the last "answer" in the third paragraph (aka the last paragraph in italics). Depending on if you're viewing on a computer or not, this is on the lefthand side of the paragraph. Selecting it will bring you to this webpage called "password please" (clownillustration.com/crack-the-code).
This is super interesting! And it has many-a handy clues. Clicking on the image will bring you to another secret page, and this one is of a safe where each number of the keypad is replaced with members from Welcome Home. (clownillustration.com/password-please). Clicking on the safe prompts you to enter a password, and this handy sheet points you the right direction! The password is hidden in the answers to the 5 questions in the character worksheet in the Playfellow Exhibitions page. The answers are the following (in this order): Barnaby, Sally, Poppy, Julie, and Wally. The password is the first letter of each name, which is then: BSPJW
This is the page you're greeted to when you enter the password! It's got so much going on, but you cannot enter without the password.
OVERVIEW
Here's a list of the first things I noticed when going through this new page:
The W is out of place and moving. This could possibly be part of another series of out of place characters of a mystery?
The two blue eyes are still on the furthest left and right margins if you zoom out. This is consistent for most of the pages, possibly which ones Wally has influence/has a presence in?
The title of the page is written 5 times and there are two overlapping texts of "Can you hear me?"
The black lines overlapping the text of the page isn't just black lines but also text! Most of them are "Ring-ring. Ring. Hello? Can you hear me? Call back soon, please."
The last black line overlapping the text reads as "Ring. Ring ring. Ring. Won't you please pick up?"
The reason why they all look different is because they're different font sizes and because they have spaces elongating them too.
A few of the lines are split into multiple sections within the source code of the site, but are displayed as one. Unknown if this is stylistic or has other meaning.
There are pulsing orbs on the page! The first one on the right hand side covers the letters "bu". Unknown if this means anything, but is interesting.
The bottom of the page has a clickable text bubble of "It's in here". The 'i' of "in" is out of place. Maybe another character that's important? Clicking this just sends you to the error page, nothing special seems to happen there.
There is a slideshow of a different sort of Playfellow Exhibition! I will get to these later.
FILE NAMES
This is a fun little section checking to see if the names of the graphics of the site have any further meaning. I'll break them down in a list here.
The rotating W is called "Dizzy.gif" in the website code.
The rest of the "Welcome Home" title graphic is called "ElcomeHome.png"
Interestingly the blue drawn eye graphics out of bounds on the site are called "open..gif" in the code. Strange name!
The black pulsing dots come in two variations. The darker ones are called "coming2.gif" in the code while some are under a title section called "sit.gif" (they are still called "coming2.gif" within that. I thought that was interesting though! If taken as a scene, the black dots in "sit.gif" would be a sun)
The black swirls/clouds on the bottom are called "Hmm.png"
The black swirls/clouds on the top are called "hm.png"
The border patterns on each side are called "sneezing.png". Strange? This one sticks out as odd to me, compared to the rest.
The black "speech bubble" doesn't seem to actually have a specific word-name. Might be wrong on this, but if not I think that'd be interesting too, where everything gets word names except for the place that words should go. Funny!
TEXT
This is a direct transcript of what the page says, as it may be hard for some people to read.
"I had a dream when I began working on the Playfellow Exhibition. Wally Darling was sitting at the foot of my bed with a rotary phone in front of him, ringing away. It looked just like the little toy phone we were restoring for the exhibit. It kept ringing. Wally stared at me like he was waiting for me to pick up the phone. Just staring, unblinking. The phone ringing and ringing. I couldn't move. I couldn't figure out how to move and pick up the phone. He kept waiting. I couldn't pick up the phone. I keep getting phone calls, now. Or at least, I assume that's what's happening. I keep hearing it ringing. All day, sometimes. I check my phone and there's no new messages. I thought maybe some of the site staff were pranking me, but I tore up the workspace and couldn't find another phone that might be ringing. All that was there were the toys for the exhibit, and obviously those couldn't be ringing. But I kept hearing it anyway. The phone ringing and ringing. The more I work, the more questions I have. Why didn't any of the site staff I worked with remember this show? Even the ones who grew up in the 70s? Why can't I find any files on the Playfellow Workshop? Why isn't there a single TV guide ad saying what network or time the show was on? I keep digging and digging. I've poured over every recovery the WHRP has given me access to, every inch of their website, and the things I find make less and less sense. If I didn't know better I'd say everyone was coming together to pull an elaborate prank on me. I can still hear the phone ringing now. I don't know how to answer the phone. I need to answer the phone."
This is from what I believe is a new character in the Welcome Home universe. Not really a character in the show, but someone I'll be calling the Restorer. They are the one being tasked to restore the stuff sent to WHRP. This will become more relevant later on, but to break it down this is giving insight on the behind-the-scenes, and brings back the motif of the phone ringing. These I'll expand upon later. Also important to note, the "I need to the answer the phone" overlaps the gallery so it's very hard to make out, possibly a sign of internal struggle or not necessarily wanting to answer the phone but needing to regardless.
Letters out of place that I notices: w, i, [b or bu]. Putting in combinations of this in the top doesn't reveal anything new that I've found.
THE GALLERY
The gallery is very interesting! There is in total 24 images so I won't go too in depth with each, but I will go semi-in depth as there's lots of interesting things going on! And for MOST of them if you hover over them there is a transcript if text is within the image. This isn't the case for all of them, but majority is transcribed.
The first image is called "wall.PNG". It's actually one that I think stands out compared to the rest. Perhaps this is the entrance, perhaps it's the exit. It's the only one that doesn't get shown again later, other than the brief view of the black-grown wall. (if that wall is indeed the same as the one in others, it shows the height of the black growth).
The second image is called "chair.png". It is of a workspace. The orange sticky notes on the bottom have various spirals. IT's interesting to point out that in the left of the image there are cleaning supplies (or paint? both? it's hard to make out but I think it's cleaning supplies). Implies that whoever works here also much clean it.
The third image is called "ceiling.PNG". This one is really interesting and also doesn't appear in any other image. The eye appears to match almost exactly the eye under Home in the Neighbourhood page of the website, which leads to the "so-below". Eyes are an important motif, and it appears almost like the sticky notes with spirals drawn on them are "leaking" out of the black growth. Also interesting that it's taken up residence within the casing of a fluorescent light. These are often in schools or work buildings, implying that this is likely not happening in someone's basement. Also the the fact that it's coming where light should be is quite interesting too. Fascinating!!
The fourth image is called "button.png". It's a closeup of the desk, and shows off a few things that's there. Strangely the apple doesn't look real? Compared to the rest it looks like it was painted on. There is also black string coming out of the box of pens and markers and the sticky note and pen is the same as what has drawn some of the spirals. If I'm not mistaken Wally has yellow buttons in him, but not white. Unknown what that might mean, bit it's interesting! The container of vinyl gloves also has a sticky note that we can read in a different image. There is also a (discarded?) do not touch sign, likely for the growth on the walls or for reminding the Restorer not to touch stuff without gloves.
The fifth image is called "box.png". This a printed email sent to the WHRP by Questions Answered!. It's talking about the worksheet and code to enter the safe, ironically what we had to crack to get here. Possibly in-universe the code for the safe is something else. This shows up multiple times. Also, like other printed emails, it reveals this is taking place in 2023 (march and april to be exact!). This can be used to create a timeline of the emails (and events).
The sixth image is called "apple.png" and again, that appble doesn't look real. That might just be a me thing though. This is another shot of the desk and reveals a letter in the far right and vinyl gloves covered in the black growth on the walls. The sticky note on the gloves read "PUT ON GLOVES BEFORE HANDLING ANY ART. CALL ME IF WE RUN OUT!!!".
The seventh image is called "whoareyou.png". This one has the image of Frank with the red square (red is a colour tied to Wally). There is a blacklight message of "WHO ARE YOU?" with a drawing of a spiral and an eye, two symbols connected to Wally. Unknown if this is directed at the Restorer or at Frank. The yellow sticky note says "-IS ART WAS NOT... THE SHIPMENT... EASE STOP USING... WORK PRINTER.... PRANK ME >:(". Likely is read as "This art was not part of the shipment. Please stop using the work printer to prank me >:(". This is the same sticky note and writing style as the Restorer, so it's likely written by them.
The eighth image is called "corner.png" and it is of the corner of the room, a zoomed out image of "apple.png" and "button.png". It reveals that there's also a paint roller, a blacklight, four letters, two notebooks, a TV, toy phone and clock, an image on the wall and further black growth on the walls. Also has the same orange sticky notes/papers on the floor as the first image, proving that they must be taken within the same room/space. If so, all images here are from the one singular room, possibly all taken by the Restorer.
The ninth image is called "favorite.png". This is very very interesting because it's the only one containing a question answered directly by WHRP (asked by Question Answer!). It's asking about the WHRP experience researching and uncovering information about Welcome Home, but the blacklight reads as "Everything is so disgusting to touch. Sometimes the mail doesn't come for weeks. I want to rip into everything I have. My head feels so muddled too. Ever since I opened that envelope." The envelope is a direct callback to another page that mentions that the first information about Welcome Home came to WHRP in the forms of colourful envelopes (also used within the Welcome Home world). The blacklight message contradicts the printed response by WHRP. Implies that someone within the company OR from Question Answer! is covering up the actual working conditions for the Restorer and whoever writes the blacklight message (I do not think they're the same person(s)).
The tenth image is called "light.png". This is of the blacklight, strangely there are black strings or tendrils coming out of the blacklight (similar to the pen/marker box and of the black and white eye in the florescent light. Possibly the same growth as on the walls?). The sticky note reads "ATTENTION: ALL STAFF. CHECK ART WITH BLACKLIGHT BEFORE HANGING/PACKING/CLEANING/ETC. NEED PHOTOS FOR CONDITION REPORTS AND/AT WHRP TEAM!!!". This is written by whoever wrote the sticky note for the gloves, and doesn't look to be the same handwriting as the Restorer. In the top right you can see a part of another printed email (same as we see in other images).
The 11th image is called "mail.PNG". It's more printed emails, with the topmost having a transcript. The one on the right is dated April 13th and says "... out so promptly! I wasn't expecting them to arrive... value of these prizes for insurance?) - there actually... at all, could you send that so we can open the box... if that's easier!.... ration". Another email from Question Answer! and is about the safe prize again. The topmost email is about the upcoming exhibition and dated april 3rd, implying that the Restorer was able to restore a lot of pieces for the official exhibition, though still wants more to happen?
The 12th image is called "note.png". It's an orange stickynote with a drawn phone with two eyes. Looks like it's drawn in blacklight, possibly another message from whoever is doing that. The image was taken on the same desk the Restorer works on. Further proof that the blacklight writer and Restorer are not the same person(s).
The 13th image is called "notebook.PNG". This is written by the Restorer about the recent notebooks received from the WHRP. The Restorer mentions that it feels like it is all a prank and shoes desperation to find the answers. Doesn't look like the same hand writing as the sticky notes with instructions on them. Important that the phone is ringing! Also important that they say that the WHRP sent ONE notebook, so this notebook (yellowed pages with pargins and lines) belongs to the Restorer.
The 14th image is called "notebooks.png". This is of two notebooks, the one that the WHRP sent and the Restorer's notebook. The red one with the eye and spiral is from the WHRP while the yellow is from the Restorer. Interesting that it has a question mark and A on it, possibly implying that the Restorer works for Question Answer! and not directly with the WHRP team? The spiral and eye are in theme with Wally, and there is a bookmark with a Poppy like pattern sticking out. The notes are written by the Restorer, which means I might be wrong and the Restorer has been writing the rest of the notes too? Interesting! There's also a script that's too hard to read, and another sticky note with a spiral and a small doodle.
The 15th image is called "papers.png" and is of the papers on the ground, confirmed to not be sticky notes. They all have spirals on them, and are placed just before the desk in the room. Also the floors appear to be concrete?
The 16th image is called "Read.png". It's of the notebook that the WHRP team sent (on loan!). Interesting that the space around it is darkened while most of the images don't have that.
The 17th image is called "Bookopen.png". Unknown if this is inside the notebook sent by WHRP or the notebook owned by the Restorer. It has a doodle of a Home-like house with "The ... That ..." in it. The heart below has "You You" in it. The black marks could have been already there or recently placed there, unknown if they're fingers or more black growth (implication that the black growth came from the Welcome Home objects?). There are two drawings mostly covered by the open book, one that has an eye.
The 18th image is called "Booknow.png". It has a drawing on the left (same drawing that was under the notebook in "Bookopen.png". It also has a wally-like handpint in the bottom right, possibly implying this doodle is from Wally himself?). The right has an note written by the Restorer. It's hard to make out, but appears to generally be about their work on the project. Below is my attempt at making it more legible, but it's still too blurry to really read. Restorer notably does not give their name, and seems to be writing this to another person.
9. The 19th image is named "research.png". It's a zoom up of a sticky note written by the Restorer that was attached to the WHRP notebook. The blacklight reads "THE PHONE IS RINGING". 10. The 20th image is named "room.png" and is another image of the room, this time zoomed out further. Reveals that the handprints on the wall are human like (4 fingers and a thumb, not 3 fingers) which confirms Wally is not here @:P
The 21st image is called "safe.png". It is a picture of the second chair that has a photograph of Wally and the same safe that is seen when entering this hidden page. Interesting!
The 22nd image is called "sheet.png" and is of the same letter that is seen in another image (same letter that was cut off in the image "mail.PNG". The hidden blacklight text reads "WALLY DARLING" and the note is about the safe code. The email subject is asking about the safe code, and clarifies that the mail is about the activity prize being sent out in a lockbox. The insurance line is about what the prizes were, and the code to unlock the lockbox is within the activity worksheet. The sticky note is offering to send prizes at a later date once they can actually open the lockbox/safe. Dated april 13th.
The 23rd image is called "tv.png". It's the same TV as the one hidden page video with the strange audio, and appears to be severely outdated for 2023. This implies that the TV video was taken by the Restorer, who considers the TV broken. There are more handprints on the wall, and the phone is now on the phone holder instead of being out (no one has tried answering). It's also 5:20.
The 24th image is called "sorry.png". It is of an email from april 3rd. It's the same one we've seen elsewhere and the blacklight message says "I am so sorry.". Appears to be in response to the email, though it's unclear whether it's responding to being told that certain things cannot be touched, or that there is the black stuff growing on the walls. Also confirms that the black stuff on the walls isn't paint (or is not being painted on) but instead is growing on it's own. The sender of the email (Question Answer!) tells the receiver that they should not be considered if they experience nausea, dizziness or fatigued. Such lovely working conditions!
The 21st image is called "safe.png". It is a picture of the second chair that has a photograph of Wally and the same safe that is seen when entering this hidden page. Interesting!
The 22nd image is called "sheet.png" and is of the same letter that is seen in another image (same letter that was cut off in the image "mail.PNG". The hidden blacklight text reads "WALLY DARLING" and the note is about the safe code. The email subject is asking about the safe code, and clarifies that the mail is about the activity prize being sent out in a lockbox. The insurance line is about what the prizes were, and the code to unlock the lockbox is within the activity worksheet. The sticky note is offering to send prizes at a later date once they can actually open the lockbox/safe. Dated april 13th.
The 23rd image is called "tv.png". It's the same TV as the one hidden page video with the strange audio, and appears to be severely outdated for 2023. This implies that the TV video was taken by the Restorer, who considers the TV broken. There are more handprints on the wall, and the phone is now on the phone holder instead of being out (no one has tried answering). It's also 5:20.
The 24th image is called "sorry.png". It is of an email from april 3rd. It's the same one we've seen elsewhere and the blacklight message says "I am so sorry.". Appears to be in response to the email, though it's unclear whether it's responding to being told that certain things cannot be touched, or that there is the black stuff growing on the walls. Also confirms that the black stuff on the walls isn't paint (or is not being painted on) but instead is growing on it's own. The sender of the email (Question Answer!) tells the receiver that they should not be considered if they experience nausea, dizziness or fatigued. Such lovely working conditions!
Some images have the png in capitals and some don't. Is that important? I do not know!
THOUGHTS/SUMMARY
So what do we know? We know for sure that there is someone I'm dubbing the "Restorer" that works within this room. They are the one that took the pictures (most likely) and they are the ones restoring much of the stuff being sent by the WHRP team. They do not work directly for the WHRP but possibly for Question Answer!. There is another unknown person who is leaving messages only seen under blacklight.
The Question Answerer from the Playfellow Exhibition page of the website is likely either part of or is the head curator of Question Answerer!, the person that all the emails are talking to. They are the ones that have given the WHRP team the ability to set up the exhibition and given either funding, time, resources, or a combination thereof for the WHRP to continue their research. They know about the poor conditions of the room and do not care. It's likely that they are the ones that are "censoring" the messages the public gets about the WHRP and Restorer, as the text from the image called "favorite.png" says that the WHRP is very happy to work on the restoration (contradicts the blacklight) and the Question Answerer quotes from the exhibition page is all positive.
It's very interesting that all the emails are printed, we never get to see the actual people talking. We know it's conversations between the WHRP team (from the email address) and the head curator of Question Answer!, but we just see emails to Question Answer!, not from WHRP (other than sending a png of the worksheet). This also shows another interesting thing that the Restorer is given a huge lack of technology for their work, it's actually a huge lack of anything for the restoration work. There is some cleaning supplies in the corner, a box of pens and markers, gloves and a few tools, but majority of what they have is sticky notes and the black-growth health hazard. If I'm not mistaken, the TV might be the same as what would have been available back between 1969 and 1974, implying that the technology that is there is stuff that would have been around during Welcome Home's airing.
THEORY
After going through everything, here is my theory. Might contradict a few points I made above, but it's too long for me to go back. Plus that allows for more variations of interpretation haha.
I have a theory that the blacklight messages may be by someone in the WHRP team but not the Restorer. It apologizes for the poor working conditions, complains/reveals the truth of the working conditions, and asks general questions and mentions they too hear the ringing. If so, that would be more proof that there is separation between the WHRP and the Restorer.
In a similar train of thought, it's possible that instead of Question Answerer being the Question Answer! head curator, it's "supposed" to be the Restorer, but their messages have been "censored". The proof for this would be in the exhibition page, where it says "Question Answerer has taken great care in preserving these findings and helping to reproduce what couldn't be properly presented. They have also helped us to restore what was assumed to be completely destroyed [...]" and "It seems like everything these days is already neatly catalogued and answered down to the finest details. You can find a book or a website or what-have-you to answer any old question that might cross your mind. But Welcome Home was different! The more I looked at it, the more questions there were, and not an answer in sight. It was like a puzzle-box that had never been opened before, just begging to be investigated. How could I possibly resist a mystery like that - especially in a charming, colorful package! It was like a calling. A calling I just had to answer!"
Question Answerer is called that here because they're anonymous, another point that it could be the Restorer. Everything quoted there is variations of what is said on the hidden page version of the exhibition. They are the one working to preserve and restore separate from the WHRP team, and the rest is positive versions of what the Restorer has written or implied. The mystery being exciting and unique is a positive way of what the Restorer wrote about them being unable to find any proof of the show other than what they're sent. The puzzle-box could be the lockbox/safe that needs to be opened. The "charming colorful package" is another reference to how originally much of the Welcome Home proof was sent in colourful envelopes. The calling that "[they] just hand to answer" is in parallel to "I can still hear the phone ringing now. I don't know how to answer the phone. I need to answer the phone."
This lines up with the emails, that are sent to the curator, and the Restorer's personal notebook that has the questionmark and the A on the from, likely representing "Question Answerer". Only issue is that it seems that Question Answerer contacted the WHRP, and though the Restorer has shown desperation towards needing to find the answers "There has to be answers. There has to be. I'll find answers, people need me to have answers" but they also mention that they think it's a prank at multiple points, which doesn't sound like someone that would have contacted the WHRP first. That sounds more like someone that was drawn into it and then stuck in the position.
FINAL POINTS
Wally has been tied to eyes and spirals multiple times now, though more-so eyes. He is also tied to the ringing and to the TV static video. It seems like Wally is trying to contact the Restorer/Question Answerer, further proven by the messages left on the hidden webpage from Wally asking if he can be heard. Some of the blacklight messages have eyes and in the notebook sent by WHRP there is a Wally-handprint (not the first time Wally's hand has been seen somewhere). Is this proof that Wally is sending stuff from the WHRP? I'm unsure, but that is another theory! It would explain why that after all the ringing he now is trying to communicate through blacklights. Counterpoint: there is a note written to the Restorer/Question Answerer about checking for blacklight messages. That seems odd to me.
Does the eye in the cieling represent that Wally is aware and/or watching the restoration efforts? Is the black growth growing more that Welcome Home is uncovered, or is it from something else? Why hasn't the Restorer moved work places?
Additional thoughts: Wally is neither good nor bad, he is shown more as an outside force that wants attention rather than anyone behaving in a purposefully malicious way. If it's true that the black growth and the Restorer's nightmare/impossible need to the answer the phone is caused by Wally, he isn't doing it purposefully, or at least there's no proof. So far he sits beyond a moral assignment, at least that's how I see it. Also while the Eyes are symbolic of Wally's presence (or at least it's heavily implied through other hidden messages throughout the site) it isn't confirmed that the spirals are. The spirals could be something else. After all not all spirals are paired with eyes and not all eyes are paired with spirals!
I also would like to mention that as stated before entering the Welcome Home Website that the warnings of the site includes that it includes an exploration of topics like death, isolation, and mental health. I will expand upon this in another post, but here's some basic thoughts.
The room the Restorer is working in is isolated, almost to an absurd degree. They are sent tasks and expected to perform them through printed emails, meaning they do not get to answer. They have a toy phone, not a real one. They have an old non-functioning TV. The Restorer mentions that they think this is all a prank, and anyone they have talked to know nothing of Welcome Home. The growth on the wall could symbolize corruption, whether that be corruption from the original goal or corruption of one's health (dizziness, nausea, fatigue, those all can also be caused by isolation and poor mental health). I won't go further into it as that would make this post even more ridiculously long, but I thought it was something to introduce into the discussion of the new update.
Good bye for now!
#welcome home#wally darling#welcome home analysis#Thank you for this hint anon!#So many fun secrets#I had to add the translation! it is verrrryyy important!!#also I haven't seen many people talk about the hidden staff site#which is.. odd methinks#though I haven't been entirely up to date with everything people are doing#so maybe i have just missed it!#i want to rewrite this post because lots of what i added was thoughts in the moment#but stepping back it's a lot more obvious that question answerer is the restorer#though i am still befuddled on where question answerer exactly ties in#as the original WHRP mention that they are the ones restoring stuff (if i am not mistaken) and yet now it is question answerer#though it seems that the WHRP isn't as “friendly” as their presentation suggests. their emails are... curious to say the least#plus everything put on the website is theoretically from WHRP so by claiming they are the ones doing it it seems more close knit#so to speak#it makes me quite curious about what exactly the WHRP team is up to as Question Answerer says on their page (the staff only page) that#no one remembers the show.. and yet there is supposed proof?#how curious indeed!!#the weird way that the WHRP team communicates with Question Answerer paired with the very clean “company” presentation and strange origins#of both the show AND the show merchandise and remains#it seems that there is something else afoot#i am still debating on whether Question Answerer is supposed to be a character within the universe of WHRP who is uncovering everything#or is a standin for Clown Themself (who is “uncovering” and “restoring” everything in a metaphorical way one could say)#Regardless the mystery is very very fascinating and I am absolutely hooked!!#and I now am very much thinking that I should cover the oddities of the WHRP team...#hmmmm...#if you read to here.. many thanks!! here is a gift of a cookie @:D#syncrovoid.txt
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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 3
Or: a secret Admirer AU
PART 1 || PART 2
Chrissy Cunningham just slipped a note into someone’s locker. Robin doesn’t know whose, but it’s not Steve Harrington’s. She knows, because she’s had the absolute blessing of having him as her locker neighbor all year. And based on how often she’s seen Chrissy loitering in front of it with him, the gossip mill is right about their budding relationship.
Except Chrissy just slipped a note into someone else’s locker.
Robin watches her walk away, stomach curdling at Harrington’s name branded on her back. He might as well have raised a leg and pissed on her.
The hallway is largely vacant, everyone in their last periods of the day. Robin had been on her way to Pre-Calc after a quick stop at the restroom, but she’s scrapping that idea now: there’s a mystery afoot.
Robin hunches over the drinking fountain at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She pushes the button but makes sure her mouth is well out of the stream of contaminated water. She’s not willing to risk botulism, not even for Chrissy.
The footsteps walk by without a pause, so she stands up, wiping the bit of splash-backed water off her cheek as she waits. After a few more false starts, and the clock ticking down to the end of the day, she’s almost ready to give it up as a bad job.
But then someone else starts stomping down the hall. She watches out of the corner of her eye, once again bent over the fountain, as Eddie Munson spins the dial on the locker and pulls it open. He immediately plucks an envelope out, pulls the tab open, and retrieves a pale-blue piece of paper.
Robin’s thumb slips on the button for the water–the abrupt absence of sound must tip him off because he turns to her, a scowl already on his face as he asks, “what are you looking at?” as he clutches the note tightly to his chest.
It’s too late. She’d already seen him smile down at it, blushing and twirling one of his curls around his fingers.
It sinks into her stomach until she’s sick, a pit to nurture and grow in the acid of her intestines. She can almost feel them writhing as Eddie’s scowl deepens into a glare the longer her silence goes on.
“Nothing,” she says, averting her eyes to bend down and pretend to tie her shoe.
Eddie huffs, and she listens to him stomp down the hall, as something wet and embarrassing begins pooling in her eyes.
She spends the rest of class hiding in the bathroom trying to get her shit together by brute force.
It doesn’t work; it never does.
***
After the random band girl had creeped on him in the halls, Eddie stuffed the letter into the pocket of his vest, half-read. The anticipation builds through the rest of the period and all the way home.
In the comfort of his bedroom he reopens the envelope and peers inside, giddy at the thought of reading the rest of the letter, this time a response to his own words.
Should he light a candle? Dim the lights? Eddie hasn’t seen a romance movie in a long time, but this feels like the sort of moment to recreate a scene from one. He’s getting love letters. Plural. Him. Eddie of the Munson doctrine.
He doesn’t even own any candles.
Eddie –
I’m not trying to bully you. I do actually really like you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you. It doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.
It’s ok if you don’t know how to respond, I’m just glad you did at all. I read it at least ten times and keep it in my nightstand drawer.
Sorry, that might be too much.
Yours, Always,
Your Secret Admirer
P.S. You’re always the best part of my day. I’m just glad I can read it at all. I’ve seen your penmanship, and I was a little worried. :)
Eddie brushes his fingers against the sign-off, the pen such a light touch that he can barely feel the grooves in the paper beneath that immaculate ink.
“Yours, always,” he says, quietly in the privacy of his bedroom.
But, he’s not alone in this shoebox, so Uncle Wayne’s voice calls a too-loud, “what?” from where he’s probably still in his recliner, camped out in the living room.
“Mind your business, old man!” Eddie calls back, already lost in the land of daydreams by the time Wayne’s laugh travels back through the door he’d forgotten to close.
Wayne’s always been a good secret keeper, but this one’s too big to share. It feels weighty somehow, like it’s an overfilled water-balloon and telling Wayne, or Jeff, or anyone might fill it up to bursting.
He doesn’t want to pop this fragile thing, not when he doesn’t even have a face or a name.
He wants to know what her name sounds like on his tongue, the way her mouth purses as she carefully writes each of these little words. He wants to know what her skin feels like beneath his careful fingers.
He wants.
But, a Munson’s a Munson, and they can’t always get what they want, so he presses his pen to the paper and settles for what he can have. Not a name, maybe. Not yet, but some questions still deserve an answer, right?
***
“I can’t believe we didn’t think of setting a drop-off location,” Steve says, biting his nails the way his mom has always hated. He spits the bit of nail out onto the floor. Chrissy gives him a disgusted look. “What? I’m nervous!”
Nose still wrinkled, Chrissy mutters, “that’s no excuse to be a pig,” barely loud enough for him to hear.
Steve stuffs his hands beneath his armpits, scowling down at the linoleum as they make the increasingly familiar trek to the library. Before the past couple weeks, Steve could count the number of times he’d been in here on one hand, and every single one of them was because of Nancy.
Now, it feels like he and Chrissy are always camping out at one of the tables, crouching over notepads and whispering even if the library’s empty. Steve might not be the smartest guy around, but he’s not stupid; if anyone finds out about this, he’ll be lucky to make it out of town before someone kills him.
“Calm down,” Chrissy says, holding the door open for him. He steps past her, hands still crossed over his chest in what’s starting to feel increasingly like a self-soothing hug.
Chrissy must think the same because she wraps her tiny arm around his waist and leads him toward a familiar bookshelf. “He probably left it in the same place as last time.”
The word “probably” isn’t bringing him much comfort, but Chrissy doesn’t give him any more time to catastrophize before she’s pulling that same useless encyclopedia off the shelf and flipping it open. And there, tucked cozily into its pages, is another note in Eddie’s scrawl.
Steve smiles down at it before remembering their location. “You didn’t even check for witnesses,” Steve hisses.
He peers over her shoulder, eying the lone student in the research section who’s bent over a heavy tome, paying them no mind. He snaps out of it when Chrissy slaps the letter against his chest before tucking it into the pocket of Steve’s varsity jacket. She’s taken to wearing it almost religiously, even as all the other cheerleaders tease her mercilessly for it.
“Calm down,” she says, already striding away, off toward their usual table as Steve rushes to catch up. “If anyone sees, they’ll just think I’m his secret admirer.”
Logically, he knows that. But some part of him feels like everyone will take one look at his face and just know. And no matter how hard he tries, it’s not a feeling that’s easy to shake.
“Thanks, Chris,” he mumbles, bumping their shoulders together. She stumbles from the unexpected weight, but before Steve can help steady her, she’s bumping back into him with a happy laugh.
No matter how this all goes down, he can’t regret it, not when it brought the revelation that is Chrissy Cunningham into his life.
Settled into their usual chairs squeezed tightly together, she opens the letter and slides it closer to him. Steve’s eyes devour each word as she sits idly by, waiting for his response.
Secret Admirer,
Oh, how your words wound me! My penmanship is immaculate, I’ll have you know. But it doesn’t seem fair that you know enough about me to recognize my handwriting, and I can’t say the same.
I understand if you don’t want to tell me your name, but what do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite color? What do you dream about?
Can you give me anything? You call me brave but sending me these letters is the bravest thing I can think of, and every day I get one of your letters is the best day I’ve ever had.
Sincerely,
Eddie
P.S. I hope I dream of you tonight.
Steve doesn’t realize he’s sighing wistfully down at the page until he catches Chrissy hiding a smile behind her hand. He smacks her in the arm with a quiet, “shut up,” but his ears are already burning.
“Can I see?” she asks, and all the fondness floods back into him.
“Course,” he says, pushing it across. He watches her face avidly, heartbeat ratcheting up as he watches a smile bloom across her face.
“He’s sweet,” she says, smiling dreamily down at the page for a moment before looking up at him with waggling eyebrows he couldn’t have imagined seeing on her face even a week ago. “He wants to dream of you.”
Her voice warbles teasingly, and the warmth on his ears starts creeping onto his cheeks and down his neck. Unable to help himself, Steve shoves her arm again. “Shut up!”
All she does is laugh and latch onto him to keep herself upright.
“He wants to know you,” she says, still smiling, still teasing, but it’s okay when it’s her, not like Tommy’s cruel ribbing or Carol’s barbed words. “So, what do you want him to know?”
PART 4
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good afternoon. thinking about how even during the heat of the moment astarion’s probably hyperaware of the bite marks he leaves. because, ultimately, he never wants them to look like the ones he has that have been there for hundreds of years but still were so obviously a byproduct of brutality. a cruel reminder that he could not see, thankfully, but something he knows is there. can still feel.
even the first night you let him drink your blood. even when he very easily could go overboard and just keep going because he’s never been allowed to feed and be fed and has merely starved and got by for centuries. he tries. you’re saying his name and pushing at his shoulder far too gently for someone having their lifeblood drained, someone closer to death than they realize, and he pulls away far less delicately than he should. but you don’t look pained. you look tired. patient. concerned. for him. like he was ever the one at risk here, not your own safety. searching his face for something. you’re bloody but he does his best to clean you up. (not waste anything.) you can feel him hesitate whenever he gets close. see the way his eyes seem to want to look anywhere else besides your neck but also be drawn there at the same time.
and the next morning when you’re dazed and sporting twin punctures on the edge of your throat he finds himself repeatedly glancing at them. to him they do look raw. rough. he could have been more careful. he will be, if you ever let him again. but he won’t hold his breath. (not as if there’s any breath for him to hold, anyway.)
but you do let him. you welcome him. invite him in, every time, ever so patient. arms open and head tilted. smiling.
and that’s why he swallows his pride and shuffles off to shadowheart’s tent. hands clasped, smirk half-hearted, asking about salves, of all things. even with a raised brow and a few pointed comments, she still indulges. starts to make something for him but he interrupts and asks about the process. invested. which has her looking at him like he’s grown a second head. but she shows him. teaches him. and he’s eerily involved. rarely does he throw in any sort of remark. there’s no trickery afoot. it’s sincere.
and the next time (of course, there’s a next time, because you’re always so generous. with others but especially him, for whatever reason) when he feeds, licks you clean, laps up the remnants, you’re lightheaded but not lightheaded enough to not hear him rummaging around. feel his fingers (normally so cold but now warm. because of you. your blood fills him) swipe across the open wounds. and the stinging lessens. calms. whatever is there can’t be your own blood, because, surely, he got all of it. and it feels different. thicker. a balm on your aching skin. you catch the scent of something floral, earthy. when you sit up, you’re certain you see him stowing away a small jar. and when he brushes the hair out of your face, another wave of that smell hits you. you almost want to say something.
but you don’t. because his eyes are wide and open in a way they normally aren’t, and you can feel his haze on your neck. searching. concerned.
warm.
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RIPPED FROM DISCORD - NO CHANGE
I don't think Nic and Luke have talked, seriously, since JF in NYC. I think there may have been a few check ins but nothing of note.
I think she was caught off guard by papgate and was PISSED, not just about the pics and the fallout, but about Luke's total lack of accountability in the situation.
He nor his team did much of anything while he was facing an obscene amount of backlash from the fan base.
They simply ignored the elephant in the room.
We first saw Nic's irritation with the passive aggressive post four days after the release and then ending with the SATC TT.
We know she helped his ass out with the Brazil pic to post after the JF interview. I think she said goodbye there.
She did more to help him than he was willing to do for himself or anyone else.
Things calmed down with Paris but then the games picked right back up in LA, it's the only way children know how to entertain themselves.
Nic was silently watching all of this while hanging out with JD.
July was a MESS all around because not only do you have the GQ event and Italy but then you have DM so far up Nic's ass she is covered in shit.
Luke and Nic never seemed further apart.
Biggest evidence for this was the July 16 post, a post marking their 5 year journey and Mr. bare minimum comes through with "Wowwww 🙏🏻"
She never liked the comment btw, can't blame her though.
Papgate 2.0 happens, sus AF.
A week or so later we get shade post about the paps from Nic disguised as a BDAY post for CW. I
It is between that post on Aug 10 and the Col/Pen post on Aug 22 where I believe Nic and Luke started talking again. What all was said, who fucking knows but must not have been good enough. Because we get the PAL post, clearly friendzoning Luke with an even more damning grid caption, "I thought I already shared this but I hadn't so here you go now it's all yours!"
There is a lot to unpack from that. This is clearly a photo taken 18 months prior and she had no relevant reason to post it. I think she was going through and clearing shit out. It's the "...here ya go now it's all yours!" that struck me odd. I know some have speculated that she was just referring to the photo. I believe she was referring to the man.
And I think she was talking to her number one fan. Who up until that point had been pretty quiet outside of her Aug 18th post, "Uncanny Valley of the Dolls."
Whatever Luke and Nic talked about, I think she gave him some things to think about. That coupled with the fact that something is/has been afoot with JD so she may not have been in a place of full availability for Luke, he decided to return to the mess he made.
I think the festival pics and the fact that Jake tagged along to Malta might be causing Luke to really start to think.
It ain't a great look when a 24 yr old man comes in, looking like he has his shit more together than you.
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I'm seeing some posting about a feeling of fishiness about the recently completed US Election.
In the attempt to do something more productive than my last post, I'm gonna do an adhoc examination of how feasible I think a "rigged election" actually is, looking at a few methods that could have been used. So, to start with, what is the actual evidence here?
Most of it is... honestly vibes based, which I get, but don't put a lot of stock in, There was a lot of energy around the Harris campaign, and she had some good polls, but Donald Trump has proved nothing else in the past fucking decade, its that the polls literally do not matter for him, and he can outperform them by a hundred miles.
But. There's also some numbers.
None of this has been verified yet, and I want to make that clear, but this year has largely reported record turnout in a ton of states, especially the swing states, and yet, so far.
The number of votes seems much lower this year.
Not republican votes, not democrat votes, all votes. Hell, third party voting collapsed this year--whatever else you take from this election, this was not a case of the left splitting the vote.
Now, it's true that the vote count hasn't been completed, and it's possible that the numbers will make more sense once that's done. It's also true that the states didn't have quite the same turn-out as last year... but it was only a percentage point or two lower.
Add that to the frequent postings about people having their ballots rejected for... questionable reasons, and.
Well. It starts going from a "the moon is fake!" conspiracy to "Epstein had sex slaves" conspiracy.
But, okay, is it even possible for Trump to have faked the vote like this? People talked about it, but it was mostly in terms of legal challenges trying to overturn a Harris victory, or pulling in the supreme court to decide narrow districts. This, by all accounts, seems to be a straight forward Trump sweep.
So if there is shenanigans afoot, how could he have done it?
There's three feasible(ish) pathways, in my opinion:
Voter suppression and manipulation pre-ballot: Yeah this happened. It's also irrelevant to any possibility that the vote counts were tampered with. Look, this election was flooded with misinformation, legal suits, court cases, and election officials doing everything in their power to fuck with people's right to vote. It was filled with ballot boxes being lit on fire. Elon Musk did a fucking paid vote scheme! Of course there was voter suppression! But there always is, and although it was worse this year than many others, it wouldn't cause any numerical mismatch between turn out and votes, and there's not much that can be done now for this election. Even if someone voted because Musk slipped them $100, no court will ever be able to prove they didn't just happen upon $100 bucks and then voted for Trump.
Voting machines were manipulated: A few hours ago I would have said this was practically impossible, but apparently a bunch of election officials and cyber-security experts were sounding the alarm about this a few months ago, so, uh. That being said, I've seen people claiming that Starlink or whatever hacked voting machines, and no. No, Starlink did not hack voting machines. No one "hacked" voting machines. They weren't connected to the internet, or any wireless communication systems, because anyone with any degree of cybersecurity knowledge will tell you that's how you create an insecure system. Now, it's not impossible, technically speaking, than Elon Musk or fucking Russia managed to hire engineers and somehow bribe enough officals to get access to the machines and install hardware that would allow external access, but in that case we live in a Bond movie and somehow have bigger problems. So, if the voting machines themselves were compromised in any technological way, it would have required direct, physical access, which should be basically impossible, unless...
Ballot officials fucked with the vote This is the one I think is plausible. Basically, in this case, what could have happened is that various election officials at different levels of the process more or less lied about the vote count. This could have happened in a lot of different ways--they could have found reasons to reject mail-in ballots, which several states attempted to make legal, they could have found reasons to reject in-person ballots, which several states attempted to make legal. They could have, if the corruption ran deep enough to make this feasible, just... not counted or reported votes that swung for Harris. They could have, if the election machines work similar to the ones up here in BC, seen the results from the machines, then called the central election office over the phone--because remember, the ballot boxes should not be connected to anything. I don't know. There's a lot of options, and it varies from state to state, because remember, each state runs their own elections, and has their own rules and procedures.
So yeah, three explanations, only one of which is really plausible.
Now, I want to be clear, I don't think this election was fraudulent. Not yet, at least, I need to see actual evidence, or this is nothing more than a theory, but I also want to be clear.
...3 makes sense.
3 would explain why urban areas seemed to be underrepresented in this election, while rural areas surged. 3 would explain a discrepancy between voter turn out and votes counted. 3 would fit the strategy Trump and MAGA loyalists have been describing for the last four years, of infiltrating the election machinery and manipulating it to their own ends.
So I'm not saying it's likely that Trump fucked with the vote, not without evidence. Not yet.
But I will say this looks a hell of a lot more plausible than any claims made in the aftermath of the 2020 election.
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Desolate
Kylo Ren x Female Reader
Content & Warnings: survival horror, chases, brief description of injury, psychological horror, force sensitive!reader
Word Count: 1k
A/N: Requested by @id-get-sleazy-for-ron-weasley for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Liminal Spaces)
You awaken to a menacing presence aboard the starship you travel on. The crew is missing. The ship is empty. But you are not alone in the dark of space.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist
It is fetid silence that wakes you.
Even in sleep, the Force is always there, a constant companion. But there is something foul afoot, a strangeness that slips in and dulls your senses.
You awaken to darkness and the emergency light above the door. It is on, glowing a deep bloodied red that only adds to the itching rot that sits beneath your skin.
You want to scratch--to claw like you can peel away the flesh to reveal the disturbance underneath. It's not cold or hot but an irritating nag that you want to slap aside.
Pushing up to a seated position, you press into the Force and find...nothing.
Nothing.
It is empty. Desolate.
You've never felt absence before.
Approaching the door, you press the button on the panel and step out into the hall. All the lights are off except for the red emergency lights. They don't blink or pulse, and no alarm blares. It's completely silent, as if you're suspended in a singular second of time.
Closing your eyes, you push out into the Force again. Again, you feel nothing, and then--
Sharpness. Darkness. Anger. So much of it.
Like a boulder down a mountain, it crashes into you, entering through your nose and mouth to wrap around your brain and squeeze. You choke, gag, and are pushed out of the Force as if you've been slapped.
You stagger, one hand pressed against the cool metal wall as you attempt to steady yourself.
Something is coming. Lurking.
It does not hide. It does not wait.
It is coming. Running.
The ship is empty. The ship is empty, but you are not alone.
You are not by yourself.
Instinct rises, and you take off, rushing toward the escape pods. Whoever or whatever lurks on this vessel with you is hunting. They are the predator, and you the final prey. There is no one else.
You move as quickly and as silently as you can. Your stalker is there, a quiet caress like breathing against the back of your neck. You do not see them, but they are here aboard this ship.
The entire trip to the escape pods is uninterrupted. The corridors are clear and unobstructed as if everyone on board was whisked away without disturbing the environment. There are no bloodstains or blaster burns. Nothing to indicate that something awful happened here.
And yet, you feel nothing.
Everyone is gone. Everyone--
The doors to the escape pods open, revealing the massacre. Your heart stops and drops into your stomach. Shock blooms, followed by dread, and a great sadness that turns your veins cold.
They are all gone. Broken. Shattered. In pieces.
Some of the crew fell with their arms outstretched, fingers scratching at the control panels in one last attempt toward freedom. But there is no freedom. No escape.
The lights above the escape pod docks are not green but red. Each one is empty. Each one is gone. Did anyone escape? Did anyone survive?
Will you survive? Will you escape this place?
Step back and out into the hall, the door slides shut with a muted whoosh. You linger in the blood-red glow of the emergency lights, in the long corridors that seem to stretch on endlessly and turn the corners into shadows.
The only other choice is to head to the helm, to take control of the ship and figure out what might be wrong.
That is where you go. That is where you walk. But every time you turn a corner, you only find another corridor, another hallway, and an endless number of doors. None of them open or budge.
An endless loop of walking, turning a corner, trying a door panel. Fear creeps in, biting around in your chest until it feels like it'll explode from you like parasitic larva.
A fever dream. It must be. You are sick and this is all in your head.
You continue on, walking and turning and trying every door. Again. Again. Again.
There are tears in your eyes. They stain and sting your cheeks. You are desperate now. Hungry. Throat dry and senses spiraling.
Jedi.
You hear it in your head. A whisper.
Jedi.
Glancing over your shoulder, you see a figure all in black lurking at the end of the hall. A helmet. A mask. A black cape.
Jedi.
The word is strange. Someone once called you that, but you didn't think much of it. The Force has always been there, wrapped around you in a comforting embrace. But this stranger speaks it as if they know you.
You reach out through it and meet a wall of anger. It is roiling. Tumultuous. You sense a desire to claim, to seize control, and make you submit. Bending the knee or spreading your legs makes no difference. The dominating demeanor of this stranger leaves no room for interpretation.
They intend to catch you. That is why they are here.
Jedi.
No. You will not go. Not willingly.
Without guessing who this might be, you take off. If you can find the mess hall, you'll find a map of the ship. You can form a plan. You can crawl through the ductwork. Anything.
As you charge around a corner, your hunter appears at the other end. You slide to a stop, backtrack, only to find them at the other end. Is this an illusion? Are they playing a trick?
You decide to push it aside, to not allow your mind to question. Moving on is the best bet. Finding the helm and seizing control is the only option.
Turning around, you carry on, finding more endlessness until you don't. Until the double doors of the helm stand before you, appearing suddenly and without you having to look.
Surely, this must be a dream. What else could it be?
As you approach, the doors open, and there is your stranger. Their back is to you, but as they shift to gaze behind them, you glimpse your first clear view. You know that helmet. You've seen him before.
This is the First Order's favorite son. There is no escape. There never was.
"Kylo Ren," you whisper.
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@pigeonmama @nomercyforthewarrior
#kylo ren x reader#kylo ren fanfic#kylo ren fic#kylo ren fanfiction#kylo ren#kylo ren x you#kylo ren x female reader#kylo ren x fem!reader#star wars sequel trilogy#star wars fanfiction#star wars fic#star wars fanfic#star wars movies#star wars sequals#kylo x reader#kylo fanfic#kylo x you#the last jedi
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Now I'm thinking about someone deciding to tease Michael Gavey! She wears short skirts and tight shirts for weeks, simply enjoying the way he flushes and determinedly avoids looking at her every time she walks by. Eventually, she corners him in the library while he's trying to get a book. She's giggling as she teases him, stroking his hair gently and letting him touch her ass and tits over her clothes. He's a whiny mess when she pulls back, and he cums in his pants when she flashes him her tits as she's walking away. He's down so bad that he can't think about anything else but her!
-🪴
Michael would feel like an idiot, wouldn't he? Noticing you and your skimpy clothes! He knows you're teasing him, probably because you want to pull his leg, that's what popular people like you do! Yet, he can't help but blush every single time he hears you giggle or sees you walk around the ancient buildings of Oxford; the worse part? He knows that you noticed and his embarrassment only seems to egg you on, push you to get closer and closer to him, the more he tries to hide in his safety bubble.
NSFW and 18+ only please!
Get your shit together, Gavey! He tells himself. The exams are almost going to start!
He knows something is afoot, because he hasn't seen you in a couple of days: this is not normal.
He knows he should feel grateful for the reprieve and, maybe, you deciding to stop embarrass him; he can't. He keeps looking around, hears ready to catch your giggly laugh and feeling disappointed when that doesn't happen.
He is at the library, looking for a specific book to delve into a topic he knows one of his professor will focus the exam upon. He squints his eyes to read the Dewey numbers on the spines of the books: where the hell is it?
"Hi Mickey!!!"
He jumps out of his skin when he hears your voice next to his ear.
In a hurry he turns around, clumsily pushing his glasses up his long nose in the vain attempt to hide his surprise.
He can't focus on an answer, his brain zeroing on your tits, barely hidden by the deep neck of your sweater.
"H... hi." He manages to stammer.
"What are you doing all cooped up inside? It's such a lovely sunny day!"
Because he can't. His immense intelligence is completely annihilated by your sugary smell and soft tits against his chest; when you caress up his arms, slowly, feeling the muscles underneath, only to scratch his long neck with your nails, before starting to comb his short hair with your fingers, he moans, feeling his pants tighten in the crotch area.
"Cat got your tongue?" You giggle, pushing your soft body against his.
"N... no." He manages to moan, cheeks already aflame.
"Then why aren't you asking my question, Mickey?"
"You're so pretty when you blush, Mickey." You murmur in his ear, pushing your leg between his to feel his growing erection. "You make me want to pinch your cheeks."
His hands grab the bookcase behind him, all his blood tumbling downward leaving his head empty and full of cotton.
"Your hands are so big, Mickey, so strong." You keep whispering, the tip of your tongue now playing with his lobe. "Why don't you use them on me? Touch me Mickey." You whine.
Hypnotized, as if during an out of body experience, Michael lifts his hands and puts them on your hips, grabbing the soft material of your sweater, and your skin underneath.
"I think you can do better." You moan, your leg now pushing delicately against his trapped cock.
He's a moaning mess already, the way you're teasing his erection is the sweetest kind of pain, of the likes he's never experienced in his life. How you guide him into grabbing your arse and massage the firm globes makes his head spin, and his cock twitch against the cotton of his briefs.
You moan, obscenely, and rub your tits, your whole body, against his.
He almost comes all over himself. He doesn't know how he manages to keep a sliver of control, when you keep teasing him and moaning like the protagonists of the porn he watches, not when his erection is raw, trapped against your leg, still pushing and massaging, almost forcing him to ride it.
"I'm so wet for you, Mickey. I'm dripping all over my panties, my nipples are so hard. Don't you wanna feel them? Good boy."
"Oh God!" He whines, when your breasts fill his hands, so round and soft under your sweater.
"Use you thumbs to caress them. I wore no bra just for you, Mickey."
"You're such a good boy, Mickey. You need a reward!"
Quickly you evade his hands and flash him your tits; he comes, immediately, almost falling on his knees with the force of his orgasm.
"I'm going to touch myself tonight, Mickey, thinking about you and how good you made me feel today." You giggle in his ear. "I'll come so many times on my toy thinking about you. Are you going to do the same? Stroke your cock imagining me playing with myself? If you do, next time I'll let you come all over my tits, even my face, if you do as I say."
He's on his knees now, cheeks aflame he stares at your smile as he tries to take deep breaths, a smaller orgasm coursing through his overheated body at the mental image of unloading his seed all over your pretty mouth and tits.
You're the devil, the devil. He needs you so badly!
"Did you like the idea? I will keep my mouth nice and open, with my tongue lolling out, ready to drink all you sweet cum. What I can't get, I'll massage it on my tits and wear it until nighttime."
"Oh my God!" he whines, feeling his cock trying to get hard for you again.
"See you around, Mickey." You giggle, ruffling his hair. "We're going to have so much fun together!"
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Original Sin
LUCIFER x (GN ACE) READER Summary: Lucifer really likes you and so flirts with you constantly. You like him too...just not in the way he thinks Warnings: I am not asexual so I asked my ace friend for help on this but please let me know(kindly) if I need to change anything in order to more accurately represent the ace community I can't remember who requested this - so if you did please comment below and I will tag you! REQUESTS OPEN
In the bustling streets of Hell, where chaos and debauchery is always afoot, Lucifer Morningstar, the charismatic and mischievous ruler, was a force to be reckoned with. With his devilish charm and striking yet..short presence, he commanded the attention of demons wherever he went. But amidst the chaos, there was one individual who seemed immune to his advances—Y/N.
Y/N was unlike anyone Lucifer had ever encountered. They possessed a quiet demeanor that intrigued him, a calm amidst the storm of Hell's insanity. Despite his best efforts to charm them with his best sinful lines and flirtatious looks, Y/N remained seemingly unaffected, an imaginary barrier shielding them from Lucifer's flirtatious antics. Y/N's innocence and purity amidst the sea of sinners intrigued Lucifer, and he found himself drawn to them in a way he couldn't quite explain.
Yet, despite their differences, Y/N found themselves drawn to Lucifer in a way they couldn't put their finger on. His wit, his confidence, his undeniable allure—it all fascinated them, even if they didn't fully understand their own feelings. Despite Y/N's sexuality or lack thereof (which was something they were still coming to terms with), they couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement whenever Lucifer flashed them one of his signature smirks or delivered a smooth line their way. They admired his confidence and charisma from afar, secretly harboring feelings for the devilishly handsome demon.
As days turned into weeks, Lucifer's advances grew bolder, much to Y/N's confusion and internal turmoil. They found themselves torn between their growing romantic affection for Lucifer and their uncertainty about how to navigate their asexuality in a world where desire and passion ran rampant and was ruled by the original sin himself! They enjoyed his company immensely, relishing in the moments they spent together that weren’t full of his attempts. Those quiet moments when he would let down the persona and be the kind, caring, and intelligent fallen angel. But still, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort whenever Lucifer's flirtation veered into more intimate territory.
One fateful evening, as Y/N found themselves alone with Lucifer in the opulent lobby of Hazbin Hotel, the demon king seized the opportunity to make his feelings known in the only way he knew how - more flirting.
"Ah, my dear Y/N," Lucifer purred, his voice dripping with charm as he leaned in closer. "You've been on my mind quite a lot lately.~"
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Lucifer's devilish grin, their cheeks flushing with a mixture of excited apprehension. "Oh, um, h-hi Lucifer," they stammered, their voice barely above a whisper.
Sensing Y/N's unease, Lucifer softened his expression, his eyes reflecting real concern as he reached out to gently cup their cheek. "Is something wrong Y/N? You seem...distant. Oh shit…did I make you uncomfortable?"
Y/N hesitated for a moment, their heart pounding in their chest as they prepared to reveal their truth to Lucifer. Taking a deep breath, they met his gaze, searching for any sign of judgment or rejection. But all they found was genuine curiosity and concern reflected in his eyes. Y/N swallowed hard, their mind racing as they searched for the right words to express themselves.
"I...I like you, Lucifer," they confessed, their voice trembling slightly. "But...I'm not like everyone else here. I...I don't feel...desire you the same way they do."
A flicker of understanding crossed Lucifer's features as he processed Y/N's words. Despite his reputation as the literal embodiment of sin and temptation, he was no stranger to the complexities of human emotion and nature.
"Ah, I see," Lucifer murmured, his tone gentle as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from Y/N's face. He lowered his voice to a calm purr as he gave them some space.
Lucifer's expression softened, a genuine curiosity replacing his usual playful demeanor. "I do believe the term is asexual?" he repeated, his tone gentle as he sought to understand.
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a wave of relief washing over them at Lucifer's understanding. "Y-yes," they whispered, feeling a weight lift off their shoulders as they finally spoke their truth aloud.
With a tender smile, Lucifer reached out to take Y/N's hand in his own, his touch surprisingly comforting despite the fiery aura that surrounded him. "There's nothing wrong with that, my dear," he reassured them. "You're perfect just the way you are."
With a grin and a twirl of his cane, Lucifer plopped down on a lush chair beside Y/N.
"Tell me more, my dear. I want to understand."
And so, Y/N found themselves explaining their asexuality to Lucifer, revealing the complexities of their identity and the emotions that accompanied it. To their surprise, Lucifer listened attentively and asked questions when appropriate, his curiosity evolving into genuine empathy.
As Y/N poured their heart out to him, Lucifer's admiration for them only grew. In that moment, he realized that their connection transcended mere physical attraction—it was rooted in something deeper, something far more meaningful.
“Thank you for trusting me with this knowledge my dear, I am very grateful you told me! But not onto important matters…what color should your rubber duck shirt be now? Would you like it to be your pride flag? OOooo that would be so FUN!”
In that moment, Y/N felt a wave of warmth wash over them, their fears and uncertainties melting away in the presence of Lucifer's understanding. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, they knew that their bond was stronger than any fleeting desire—it was built on a foundation of trust, acceptance, and unconditional love. All of Hell did agree, they did make the cutest couple in the end carrying those twinning pride flag rubber ducks around.
#romance#hazbin hotel fandom#answered#vizziepop#radio killed the video star#asexual#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer fluff#lucifer imagine#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#asexual reader#asexual representation#asexual romance#tooth rotting fluff#lgbtqia#take that depression#help me this fandom has a hold on my soul
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A New Legacy - Hogwarts Legacy x Harry Potter Crossover - Part 1
Summary:
After a rather brutal encounter with Ranrok's loyalists, the Hero of Hogwarts finds herself falling through time and space entering a world that's almost home, but not quite. Of course there's nothing else to do aside from adapt, improvise and overcome.
Part 2
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A/N: Hi there! I'm new to posting on tumblr, but I've just finished Hogwarts Legacy and I need to write this fic. Please reblog and let me know your thoughts!
Warnings: Violence, Major character death, the tiniest bit of angst, spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader, Ominis Gaunt x Female!Reader (more to be added on as the story progresses)
The camp was one of the bigger one's as of late. Almost as big as one of the mining sites. You wondered how you'd let such a large following build up, mentally scolding yourself. You considered it a truly lucky coincidence that thus far, it seemed that Ranrok hadn't confided his true plans to any of his commanders - but you couldn't be certain that knowledge of the truth of ancient magic died with Ranrok amongst his ranks.
You hoped that Ranrok was selfish enough to have never told anyone the truth.
A moment later, you quickly spotted your chance to attack, as both the guards lowered their weapons for a cup of tea. You were about to step forward, disillusionment charm and all, when you heard the sound of twigs snapping behind you.
Silently, you turned around but saw no one. There was a strange glint, however, as light reflected off of something that wasn't there.
You sighed softly, backing up slowly until you were next to the disillusioned figure, before pulling both of your best friends to hide behind a nearby bush.
"What the hell do you two think you're doing here?" you asked in a whisper-yell. Sebastian held his hands up in surrender.
"I swear, it wasn't on purpose," he replied.
"Its true," Ominis said in a hushed voice. "Sebastian convinced me to come see him in the woods when we stumbled across the goblin camp."
You glared at them both, but felt a pang of sympathy run through you. The relationship between Ominis and Sebastian had been strained at best, and you were almost glad to see them together.
"He's telling the truth, Snidget," you smiled softly at the nickname - something Seb had taken to call you whilst the two of you practiced quidditch in the late hours of the night.
"Snidget?" Ominis repeated, clearly holding back his laughter.
"Piss off, Omi," you mumbled, but the smile on his face did not dissipate.
"Enough talking," Sebastian said, blushing faintly. "Are we going to sit around and hide, or are we going to kick some goblin butt?"
Ominis and Sebastian both look determined. You sighed softly.
"Something strange is happening here," you said and they shot each other identical looks of concern, "These goblins have been gathering for weeks, ever since I - ever since Ranrok's death. I think they're planning something - something that would continue his work."
"Well we can't have that now, can we?" Ominis asked, his wand held out steadily. You sighed.
"I don't suppose there's any convincing the two of you to go back to the common room," you said, shaking your head.
"We're in this together," Ominis responded, smiling a little. It was a phrase you'd grown fond of hearing, before the three of you would sneak off on your usual adventures, when trouble would undoubtedly be afoot. It was something you hadn't heard in a long time.
"Alright then," you said, insanely appreciative of your friends, "but keep your guard up. Something is wrong here. I can feel it,"
"We'll be careful," Ominis said before Sebastian could let out another quick comment. You squeezed his forearm in thanks, before going into mission mode.
"Wait for my signal," you said, before directing your friends out. The three of you split up, so that each of you were attacking from a different direction.
You walked forward slowly. There were nine guards - excessive, but handleable, especially with your friends near by. You silently removed the charm before standing up and walking towards the three cloest to you.
"Lovely night tonight," you commented, grabbing the attention of all the goblins on guard. "Confringo!" you cast in the moment it took them to realize what was going on. Sebastian and Ominis removed their charms immediately and began their attack.
Spells flew everywhere. A Leviosa from Sebastian shot past your ear. You ducked and rolled past the attack of a goblin, breaking his shield with your own Protego. Ominis shot a blasting curse. You felt the heat from it against your back, You shot curse after curse. Three goblins became two. Two became one. You felt Sebastian's Glacius brush past your arm. Goblins attacked all around you.
You cast one last Incendio and the woods went silent.
"Everyone alright?" you asked, gasping for breath slightly. Sebastian nodded, and Ominis gave you a thumbs up from where he was keeled over in front of the body of a dead goblin.
You looked to Sebastian again. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and he had a small gash on his lip. "You're hurt," you said softly, walking over to him and brushing over the injury gently with your thumb. Sebastian winced, his brown eyes meeting yours.
"I'm fine," he said, reaching into his pocket and taking a small sip of healing potion. The cut vanished before your eyes and you smiled softly.
"Let's keep going," you said. "Ominis?"
"I'm ready," he said, standing upright with his wand extended. You grit your teeth and pushed past the body of the goblin in front of the gate.
The three of you encountered another two small groups of goblins once you entered. You made quick work of them, blasting and cursing until your throat was sore, before you reached the center of whatever it was the goblins were doing.
"Is everyone alright?" you asked softly, but you already knew the answer. Sebastian had been sliced by a goblin silver sword on his arm, and Wiggenweld only somewhat stemmed the bleeding. Ominis had been slashed across the face by goblin claws and didn't look like he had it in him to speak.
"Brilliant," Sebastian said, his breathing labored as he clutched onto his side. Ominis made a noise of agreement. You regretted dragging your friends into this.
"I'm so sorry," you said, huffing. You had been sliced in the leg.
"Let's get what we came for and leave," Sebastian suggested.
"Agreed,"
At the very least, when you pushed past the door into what seemed to be the main area, there were no goblins on duty. It seemed as though the three of you had caught them by surprise.
"Alohamora," you muttered and pushed past the doorway.
Immediately, you gasped as you walked though what could only be a portal. You friends followed suit and you felt yourself being pushed forward into an unknown room.
"Lumos," you cast when you found your footing. The moment you did, you almost dropped your wand.
"That sound," Ominis said, "It sounds like-"
"Clocks," you muttered, looking around at giant room.
"Not clocks," Sebastian said, worry filling his voice, "We have to get out of here, now."
"I don't understand," you said, walking towards the beautiful gold clocks and hourglasses, "They're beautiful," you felt almost pulled in.
"Those aren't clocks, those are time turners!" Ominis said, grabbing a hold of you and pulling you away from the golden hourglass you were about to touch.
A loud bang resounded in the room. A massive explosion rumbled through the floors. You and Ominis went flying across the room.
"You again!" you heard the voice of a goblin who looked vaguely familiar. One of Ranrok's commanders. "You'll pay for what you did. You and your stupid friends!"
Your head was ringing from the explosion. You looked to where Sebastian laid on the floor a good few feet away from you, barely conscious. "Sebastian!" you called out, trying to run towards him, but Ominis held you back.
"We have to go!" he demanded, the walls crashing in around him.
"Go?" the goblin asked. "You won't be going anywhere," he said. You turned to him. The entire room was crumbling around you.
"Please," you begged, "You cant want to die in here with us! Help us!" you said desperately.
"The only ones dying in here will be you three!" The goblin shouted, pulling out some kind of dagger and throwing it towards the center of the room, to the largest hourglass.
"Sebastian!" You cried out, reaching out towards him. But it was too late. The dagger landed on the center hourglass and shattered it, sand pouring out and directly on to Sebastian. A powerful magic filled the room and you felt as though you were going to be suffocated.
"No!" you cried out, tears streaming down your face. Ominis held on tightly to you as you watched the power destroy Sebastian's body, blasting him like lightening - like your own powers. "Sebastian," you whispered. Ominis squeezed you so tightly you almost couldn't breathe.
"You're next!" The goblin screamed. you looked to him and felt nothing but pure rage fill your body. Your hands shook and you saw nothing but the goblin in front of you. Suddenly you understood what Sebastian meant when he first taught you the Unforgivables.
"Avada Kadavra!" you cast out, and the goblin dropped dead.
"No," Ominis cried, but it was too late. You tried to cast another spell. Protego, something, but your wand sparked and failed.
The sand spun around you, enveloping your and Ominis in a storm.
"I'm sorry, Omi," you said, tears streaming down your face silently. He held you even tighter. "I never meant - for any of this-"
"It's alright," he said.
A moment later, both his and your wands disappeared into the sand storm. You gasped, reaching into the sand. It felt like holding fire.
"I'm so sorry," you cried out. Ominis smiled slightly. His eyes looked so beautiful, even in the tragic moment. He held you close and wiped the tears from your cheeks.
"Like I said," he whispered, "We're in this together," he pulled you into his chest and you felt the ground disappear from beneath your feet.
This was it.
You felt a warmth in your chest then, and you looked down to see black sputters enveloping you through the sands. "What-" Ominis tried to ask, pulling away but you immediately pulled him back.
"Ancient magic," You managed to say, and your grip on Ominis tightened. You felt your magic burst out of you, trying to protect you, trying to push Ominis away, but you resisted.
'He can't die,' you thought to yourself. 'My magic must protect him. He's a part of me too. Just as Sebastian was,'
The last thing you saw was ancient magic filling your vision as you held on to Ominis for dear life before darkness took over.
----
Part 2
Let me know what you think!
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fandom#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow x mc#hogwarts legacy mc#hogwarts legacy ominis#hogwarts legacy sebastian#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x you#sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x y/n#ominis gaunt x reader#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction
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Pride and Prejudice: A TWSTed AU
The Schemer of the Scalding Sands: J. Viper
Introduction, or pick another route!
Jamil x GN Reader
Warnings: Najma and Kalim are wingmen, Jamil insults you Darcy-style (he doesn’t mean it <3 ), P&P-level angst, descriptions of being extremely high in the air (magic carpet ride <3 )
Notes: ngl i became a jamil stan while writing this fic
———
Kalim was being quiet, Jamil thought as he glanced at the clock. Too quiet.
It was late evening, and usually around this time Kalim would be knocking on Jamil’s dorm room asking for him to cook something. Or for homework help. Or to plan a party. Or all three, plus something else. Usually, Jamil couldn’t go more than half an hour without Kalim coming around, but this evening had been oddly peaceful, so something had to be afoot.
He pushed away from his desk and headed down the hall to the dorm leader’s room, pressing an ear against his door. Good, he’s in the room. Judging by Kalim’s voice, he wasn’t in immediate danger. Good, good. Still, he should just make sure. He rapped his knuckles against the door and walked in without waiting, “Kalim, I came to check-“
He stopped in shock, eyes widening and a frown forming. Kalim was on his stomach on his bed video chatting with someone on his phone, legs kicking in the air cheerfully. That was all fine, except-
“Najma?!” Jamil screeched, diving to Kalim to get a better look. “Why are you calling Kalim?!”
“Dude, calm down,” Najma deadpanned. Kalim grinned, “yeah, it’s all fine Jamil! We were just talking about you actually-“
“What?!” Jamil wrenched the phone from Kalim, and dodged his hands. “Najma! You should be doing your homework not talking to Kalim-“
“Jamil can you relax?” Najma drawled, leaning back on her bed. “I just called Kalim to see if you were actually doing your job.” Not really, it was to make sure Jamil wasn’t overstressing himself. Clearly he was. She suddenly smirked, and changed the topic. “Kalim said you were close to that (name) person you brought to the Yasamina Silk festival. They seemed cool, but now they seem great.”
Jamil was indignant. “Don’t listen to him Najma. And Kalim! You-!” Jamil turned to glare at him, then immediately calmed his voice and face. “You should eat something, it’s getting late.” Kalim’s eyes widened and he looked at the time, “you’re right! We should see if the rest of the dorm is hungry too! We could all have dinner together!” He dashed out of the room without waiting for Jamil, who sighed and turned back to Kalim’s phone. “I’d better go after him, take care of yourself, Najma.” “Okay, bye~”
Najma sighed and slumped against her bed. Jamil seems to really like this (name), and they seemed pretty nice when we met. Not to mention, Jamil seemed happy they were there… it’d be nice for him to loosen up too. In the very few times he’d spoken about you to her, he seemed… almost cheerful. Very unlike the high-strung, perfectionist brother she knew. Even though Jamil was still her older brother, she still worried about him a little bit. It’d be nice if he had someone to loosen him up, who he genuinely liked.
She thought back to the festival, where you and Jamil shared a melon with one another. Sure, you may have not known that one Scalding Sands legend, where if you shared that melon with someone, your friendship (or romance!) would last forever. Or maybe you did know.
Either way, she knew her brother well enough that he wouldn’t slip up with splitting the melon like that. He may not believe in superstition, but a Scalding Sands legend was still a legend.
She thought for a bit, and then smirked and picked up her phone. Oh yeah. It’s all coming together. She just needed to get Kalim on board now.
———
Jamil was staring at you again.
It was out of the corner of his eye, and he kept looking away, but you just knew. Because he’d been doing it for the past few months, ever since the Scalding Sands event you’d crashed with Grim.
Granted, you were surprised he even let you go with him and Kalim, given how annoyed he looked at the extra guests (between you two, Trey, Cater, and Malleus, it was an unforgettable trip indeed). And you and Jamil sort of reached a… truce, of sorts, after his overblot.
You didn’t know how you felt ever since he’d basically imprisoned you and Grim in Scarabia, and all the things he’d said about you. Sure, after all of that went down, you were pissed and a little hurt. You’d thought that you’d made a friend in a new dorm, (two, counting Kalim, who really was your friend) but instead he was just using you. And now, the two of you were in a strange stalemate, and surprisingly, saw each other somewhat often.
While running odd errands for Crowley, sometimes you passed by the gym. You’d see Ace and Floyd, and also Jamil playing basketball, and invariably Jamil would become distracted. Floyd even loudly complained about that when a stray shot from Jamil hit him in the head. Then, at some point he’d offered to tutor you in Alchemy, saying that Kalim needed help too, so he’d just be getting two birds with one stone. And then Kalim would throw parties practically every fortnight and sic Jamil on your tail, begging you to come.
You supposed Kalim felt extremely grateful for helping him understand Jamil, but frankly you wanted to be left in peace. Still, when you did accept Kalim’s invitation, you sort of… enjoyed the small talk you made with Jamil, commenting on his cooking and sometimes helping him in the kitchen to get away from the crowds. At some point, the two of you even began meeting up to just… vibe.
Sometimes you’d meet with him in the kitchens, watching him cook while you did your homework, and occasionally cook with him. At some point, you’d take over from him and cook in his place, just to give the poor guy a break. This wasn’t something you took lightly, given how overprotective Jamil was over Kalim - the two of you reached a nice… whatever it was.
Still, you felt like he was uneasy around you. Why else would he keep staring at you, hovering over you, and ask you pointed questions? One moment he’d be more lax around you, chatting and bantering, and the next he’d be… venomous. It wasn’t like you could tell anyone about his overblot. You technically didn’t exist in this universe, anyway, so his secret was safe with you.
You heard a knock coming from the Ramshackle front door, and went to open it. In front of you stood Kalim and Jamil. Wait, no… sat.
They were both seated on Kalim’s flying carpet, the Housewarden beaming at you while Jamil looked tired and a bit peeved. “Hey, (name)!” The carpet waved its tassels at you. “Hey guys, I’m fine, but… why are you here?” Kalim grinned sunnily at you, “we wanted to see you! You should take a break and walk with us!” You glanced at Jamil, who was a little quiet, looking at you intently.
“I can’t, I’m…” you failed to think of an excuse, kicking yourself mentally, “…alright, sure.” Ugh, why did you agree?
Kalim cheered, and the three of you went along the path outside of Ramshackle. Kalim insisted that Jamil stayed on the carpet, even after he suggested he walk with you. “(Name), you should sit with us!” He smiled at you, something mischievous in his eyes. That’s a little… odd? Although it was Kalim after all. He did have some impulsive tendencies.
You gently took Jamil’s hand, surprised he’d even offered to help you up, and sat carefully on the carpet. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jamil flex the hand he held yours with. You scoffed, “dude, I don’t have rabies or anything. You’re not infected with my hand.” Jamil frowned and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Kalim jumped off the carpet. “Now, remember what we talked about! Go, carpet!”
Immediately, the carpet lurched forward. “Kalim, what did you do?!” Jamil gasped as the carpet began rising higher and faster. Your eyes widened and you instinctively grabbed the front of the carpet, “KALIM! Jamil stop the-!” You were cut off as the carpet zoomed up into the sky, leaving no trace except your shrieks and Jamil’s shouts. Nonetheless, Kalim smiled proudly at his handiwork, now Jamil and the Prefect can have some quality time together! Pleased, he pulled out his phone.
Kalim: its done! Jamil and (name) are in a whole new world of love now!!!!!!! \^o^/
On the other end of the chat, Najma grinned, and texted back:
Najma: YESSSSSSSS all according to plan >:)
———
You had been through a lot when you first arrived to NRC. Between living in Ramshackle, fighting overblots, dodging Floyds and Rooks, and shouldering Crowley’s responsibilities, you’ve dealt with your fair share of wildness.
But this? This was new.
You screamed as the carpet seemed to lurch higher and higher into the air, gripping the front of it for dear life. Your stomach flip-flopped wildly, and you tried to not projectile vomit in mid-air. The air rushed past your ears, cold and practically ripping through your skin. You could barely hear anything over the sound of wind, let alone Jamil yelling beside you.
At last, the carpet settled, and you felt extremely lightheaded. Your brain was static at this point, and you moved to lean on both hands when Jamil grabbed your wrist. “Do not look down.”
Well damn, you can’t tell me what to do, Jamil. That made you immediately look over the edge, and you regretted it instantly. The school was barely larger than a postage stamp, and you could practically see the borders of Sage’s Island with how high up you were. It was chilly too - you both were surrounded by clouds, and it was darker than you’d thought. It was probably about to rain - not that you’d know, being above the damn rainclouds.
Beside you, Jamil was beyond exasperated. If he seemed tense before, now he was just pissed. His hand on your wrist tightened, and he leaned closer to you. “Don’t. Look down.” His eyes flashed angrily at you, and you withered under his gaze, gripping the carpet tighter. He turned his eyes to your hands, gently putting his hands over yours.
“Look, I’ll steer the carpet downward, but you need to follow my lead.” He made you look at him. His dark eyes held your gaze, and for a moment you really did feel like you were in the clouds. That the world was just you and Jamil, high above everything on this terrifying carpet ride.
“Do you trust me?” You saw his lips move, but it sounded far away, like he was speaking through water. Maybe it was the altitude messing with your head, but Jamil looked so focused on you. You’d never seen him look at anything like this, so gently.
“Do you trust me?” Jamil tightened his hands over yours, and you were brought back to reality. You nodded, and he sighed. “Good. We’re going to go forward.” Carefully, he tipped the carpet, and you took in a sharp breath when you went forward. The two of you inched downwards, and the school became larger and larger until finally you both touched down in Scarabia.
Jamil clasped your hand in his and lead you off the carpet, silent. He had a deep frown on his face, and his dark eyes were even stormier than the skies. He didn’t get off the carpet with you, but clenched his hands after he helped you off. This was the second time it’s happened, he doesn’t think you have cooties or something right?
“Thanks, Jamil…” You looked at him, hoping he’d maybe lighten up a bit now that you were on the ground, but he refused to look at you, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Just… stay here. I’m going to put the carpet away, just…I don’t need any more trouble.” As he walked away, you felt his words settle heavily in your gut. I’m just trouble for him? It’s not like I caused the carpet to go sky-high…
Still, you sat on the luxurious couch in the Scarabia common room, and tried to relax. Surprisingly, it was quiet - it seemed that everyone had gone to bed. It was a nice change from Ramshackle, at least. You shut your eyes, beginning to feel tired. After a while, you groggily awoke to a mop of white hair and red eyes exclaiming at you.
“(Name)! What are you doing here?! What about Jamil?! I thought you were up in the sky on your magic carpet ride!” Kalim blabbered while you tried to get your bearings back. He seemed… worried? He put his hand to his chin, thinking. “Well, maybe I could find an empty room and put you both in it-“
“Kalim.” The Housewarden immediately fell silent, spinning to Jamil with wide eyes, smiling at him. “Jamil! Don’t worry, we can still fix this!” Jamil’s frown deepened in confusion, “Kalim, what are you-“ “And the Prefect is still here!” Kalim pointed at you, and you went on alert as Jamil zeroed in on you, seemingly forgetting you were still here.
Kalim continued cheerfully, eyes steeling in happy-go-lucky determination. “And there’s still time! You can get back out on the carpet, there’s still stars out!” Jamil wrenched his eyes back to Kalim, mouth curling into a snarl and arms tensing. “Kalim, what are you talking about?”
“To confess!”
The silence was stifling. You stared wide-eyed at Jamil, who stared incredulously at Kalim, who still smiled innocently. Finally, Jamil seemed to temper himself and said through gritted teeth, “Kalim, go back to your room.”
Kalim placed his hands on his hips, “no way! We still have to-“ “Kalim.” Even though you didn’t know either of them as long as they knew each other, something in Jamil’s voice sapped Kalim of his energy. Kalim’s eyes widened, and after a moment, he left the room. You opened your mouth, but didn’t know what to say.
You watched as Jamil sighed irritably, running a hand through his long bangs. You slouched on the Scarabia couch, watching him pace and huff to himself. What had you done to earn his annoyance? He’s the one who basically kidnapped you on a flying rug. Surely he couldn’t dislike you that much.
“Kalim doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he said at last, and you frowned deeply. “What? Kalim isn’t stupid, Jamil,” you said sharply, losing your patience, “and what in Seven’s name is up with you?
“Look, you’re-“ Jamil stopped, clearing his throat. He smoothed over his expression, face becoming the usual calm-and-composed Vice Housewarden that he always showed to the world, but not you. “Nothing is wrong.” You finally snapped, exhausted and utterly spent, “what is going on? You’ve been acting weird with me ever since winter break!” Jamil grit his teeth, but you continued. “What is your deal, Jamil?! I thought we were friends! What have I done to make you hate me this much?!”
“You’ve been a thorn in my side since you’ve come here!” Jamil yelled, stopping pacing in front of you. His chest heaved, and he had that angry-crazed look on his face he always got when exasperated. “You’re too clever for your own good! And ever since my…” he swallowed, starting to lose his momentum as he realized what he was saying, “last winter, you’ve shown yourself to be someone…interesting.” Finally, he seemed marginally calmer. “And… I don’t think I could’ve dealt with all of this without you, even though you’re the last person who I thought could help.”
Your frown deepened. You opened your mouth to say something, but Jamil hurriedly continued, shutting his eyes. “Look, I know that I inconvenienced you, but… you’re always on my mind, when I should be thinking about attending Kalim. You’re-“
“Alright, that’s it.” You stood up from the couch, and walked off without sparing a glance. Jamil stopped, sputtering, and cried out “you’re just going to leave?!” You spun on your heel, glaring at him. “Yes! I’m leaving so I don’t cause a bigger mess!” Jamil shut up immediately, and you stalked to him, poking his chest hard. “You have done nothing but insult me. What happened today, with the carpet, was not my fault. If anything, you made me into a thorn in your side.” He flinched, but you blazed on. He didn’t get to hurt and belittle you.
“You hurt the entire dorm with your overblot,” you seethed, “and you didn't inconvenience me. You imprisoned me and Grim in your little scheme. And I have tried to be nice to you since then, and I thought we were becoming friends, but you just seem to hate me every time you see me. So fine,” you backed off, throwing your hands up as you left, “I’m leaving, Jamil. I’m leaving.”
Jamil didn’t know how long he stood there after you’d left. The Scarabia common room seemed to get chillier as the night passed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to go back to his dorm. At some point, he found himself on the couch drifting in and out of sleep, wondering why things were the way they were, and why he just couldn’t be lucky. Before he closed his eyes, utterly defeated, his last thought was, I deserved that. But not them.
———
The next few weeks passed without a hitch, although you were still brimming with dulled hurt every time you saw Jamil and Kalim.
Even though you had nothing against Kalim, Jamil always slunk behind him like a shadow, making you uncomfortable every time the sunny housewarden bounded up to you. Somehow, it felt like Kalim came up to you even more often than before. You’d supposed that maybe Kalim was trying to mend things between you and Jamil, but while he had the best intentions, it was really up to Jamil. Still, you thought, you weren’t exactly kind when you last… spoke to him.
Every time you spoke to Kalim, you tried to gently but firmly turn his invitations down. This time, he seemed adamant that you come to tonight’s party, basically begging you to attend.
“Please, Prefect!” He grabbed your hand pleadingly, “it’ll be fun! The Pop Music club will be playing, and Jamil’s cooking all your favorites-“
“Kalim, let’s go.” You were jarred to hear Jamil speak up, and Kalim actually listen to him rather than brushing it off. Kalim looked at Jamil, who continued, “We need to head back to the dorm and prepare. And…” Jamil avoided your eyes, “please, don’t trouble the Prefect.”
As the two of them left, you felt their absence weigh on you. It had been a while since you’d hung out with Jamil - so you took to cooking alone in Ramshackle or Heartslabyul, and tried studying by yourself. On nights when Scarabia was having a party, you tried to not think about when you and Jamil would hang out in the kitchen, or when you and Kalim would drag him out to the dance floor to loosen up. Still, your Friday nights were getting drearier by the week, even when you tried reading Prejudice and Pride to take your mind off it.
In the gym, the basketball club was in full swing, and Ace and Jamil chatted while passing the ball to each other. “Yeah, sure, I can try to get them to come tonight,” Ace began dribbling the ball, then smirked at Jamil. “Didn’t know you missed them so much though!” Jamil frowned, flushing. “I just… Najma wanted to see them again. That’s all.”
Ace shrugged and passed the ball, “alright, guess I’ll see you later.” Later that day, you frowned at the text you got from Ace, wondering how you should respond. At this point, you’d attempted to avoid Scarabia at all costs, but it had been a while. Even then, you still wanted to see Kalim and Jamil one last time - and at least you’d be with your friends.
Ace: hey theres a party at scarabia tonight, Jamil wants you to go
Ace: so u wanna go or what
You: sure, I’ll be there. Meet u at the mirror in ten
———
You, Grim, Ace, Deuce, and Cater stepped into Scarabia. Immediately Cater ran off to find Lilia and Kalim, and you got separated from Ace and Deuce while trying to cross the dance floor. At some point Grim perked up as he smelled food wafting in the air, and made a beeline for the kitchen. You ran after him, dodging the partygoers (and at some point almost crashing into Lilia, Kalim, and the drum set) until you found yourself standing in the Scarabia kitchen.
Grim bounded over to Jamil, who was standing over the stove stirring a large pot. “Jamil! What’s cookin’?” Grim’s eyes were shining, and he strained to look up. You heard laughter from behind you, and a voice saying “hey, it’s the Prefect!” Jamil’s head snapped back to where you stood. You looked behind you, jaw dropping, “Najma?! What are you doing here?” She grinned at you, and you followed her to Jamil.
“I just wanted to see Jamil! And Kalim said he was having a party today,” she hugged you tightly. “I haven’t seen you since the festival! Jamil keeps talking about you too!” You made eye contact with Jamil over Najma’s shoulder. He looks like a deer in the headlights.
“Najma, let the Prefect go,” Jamil recovered quickly, and she let go reluctantly, pouting. You turned your attention to the pot, “hey, are you making curry? I thought Kalim hated that.”
Grim stood at attention, “whatever it is, I want some!” Jamil sighed, “I already made the food for the party, this is for Najma.” And you, if you showed up. Najma scrunched her nose, “I don’t want that, it’s too… plain.” Plain? You glanced into the very fragrant pot, swirling with spices and oil.
“You’re going to eat. You didn’t have lunch, baba will be mad if he finds out I didn’t feed you,” Jamil spooned some curry onto a plate and Najma crossed her arms. “It’s fine, but you still make your food look too plain. Like, garnish it or something. I know (name) can probably make it better!” She handed the plate to Grim, and as you picked Grim up to place him on a chair to eat, you frowned.
“My cooking isn’t that great, Najma. Jamil taught me some stuff, but still.” Najma looked confusedly at her brother, “but he says you cook so well!” Jamil gaped at her, while your eyes widened. Najma gave her brother a look, and continued, “he loves your cooking! And he said he loves cooking with you! And-”
“Jamil!” Finally you cut her off, as Jamil looked one second away from smothering her, “I didn’t know you liked my cooking?” You felt your nervousness from the party melt, and smiled hesitantly at him. He seemed to soften a little, “Yeah… it’s nice to have the company,” he cleared his throat. Why did it feel so hot in the kitchen?
Najma watched the both of you stare at each other, then clapped her hands together, making you both flinch. “Alright! This is enough. You need to get out.” As she strode out of the kitchen, you both watched her confused. “Najma, where are you going?,” Jamil called, but she didn’t answer. Grim shrugged, finishing off the curry, “Wow! Jamil, the food tasted so good!” You and Jamil stood in silence, before you both opened your mouths to speak.
“Jamil, I’m sorry for yelling-”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you (name)-”
Your eyes widened, and you both fell into an awkwardness. You were about to open your mouth, but then Najma kicked in the door. “Both of you! Out!~” Trailing behind her was… “Why’s the carpet here?!” Jamil yelled, “Najma that’s a precious heirloom of the al-Asim family! You can’t just-!” The carpet wrapped around both of you and Jamil and began pushing you out of the dorm to the outside, being lead by Najma, who cackled gleefully.
“Okay carpet! Two times is the charm! Go!” The carpet seemed to nod? and then unfurled itself from around you two. It swept underneath your and Jamils’ feet, and began rising gently in the air, unlike last time. Jamil was shouting at Najma, looking down but you weren’t focused on him. Rather, you were looking up.
“Jamil,” you nudged him softly. “Not now, Prefect,” he grumbled. “Jamil, look.” He finally sat down on the carpet, and his mouth hung open in shock. The two of you were in the sky again, but not as high this time. All around you, the stars twinkled brightly in the night, and nebulae swirled across the sky. There were barely any clouds. It was slightly chilly, but Jamil’s warmth next to you was enough to keep you fine. Rather, the goosebumps on your arms were from other things.
“It’s beautiful up here,” you breathed, and Jamil glanced at you. “Yeah, it is.” Jamil could feel his stresses slowly dissipate, and while you both were up in the sky, it felt like the world was only you and him, and the twinkling of the stars above you both. His mind wandered to the old Scalding Sands legend. Was this how the princess and her lover felt when they were courting?
You looked over at Jamil, gently grabbing his hand. In the calm of the night, Jamil seemed a little… less put-upon. Like he could finally speak freely. He cleared his throat, lost in thought. “I… got ahead of myself before,” he finally said, shifting uncomfortably on the carpet.
“I never got to tell you, but I’m sorry,” his voice cracked. “I’m sorry for trapping you and Grim in Scarabia. You’re not a thorn in my side, what I meant was… you were always there. And at first, I hated it. I didn’t trust you. You were like a thorn in my side, because you were always there. But…” You waited for him to continue, all the anger and hurt leaving you in the cool night air.
“I began to like your presence. Like I could relax when you were there, because you could help with Kalim, or keep me company while cooking, or just-” Jamil seemed a little choked up now, is he ok? “Be there. I never felt like that… just…-”
“Supported,” you finished, and he nodded, swallowing thickly. You both stayed quiet, until you spoke. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just… You always seemed to either like me or hate me?” You felt jittery just saying it out loud, “sometimes we’d be fine, but sometimes you’d just… avoid me. And it hurt.”
Jamil squeezed your hand softly, and you sighed, “And I never know what you’re thinking. I really don’t know if you just kept me around for Kalim, or if we were actually…” friends. Jamil moved closer to you. “...I do like being with you. I… I do.”
Jamil turned your chin so you’d face him. He took a deep breath, “Kalim wanted me to… confess,” the word sounded like a hiss. “I thought he was getting ahead of himself as usual but then I…” he hesitated, “I realized he was right. And Najma was right. I did… I have feelings for you, and somewhere along the way I started… loving you.” His voice became quiet, and he averted his eyes from yours, as if expecting you to be angry. To his surprise, you weren’t.
You cut him off, gently pressing your lips against his cheek. His eyes widened, barely believing it. Him? Of all people, him?
“I really wanted you to not hate me,” you confessed, face feeling warm despite the chill. “I… really do like you, Jamil. I like what you can do, and I like you. And I think somewhere along the way…”
You squeezed his hand tightly, making him look at you with a smile on your face, “I started loving you too.” You softly closed the distance between you, finally ending the weeks of inner turmoil.
Jamil softly cupped your face, looking into your eyes, then kissed you gently, as if he couldn’t believe that this was real. You wrapped your hand around the hand on your face, squeezing it softly. You were here. You moved to clasp him tighter, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you tighter.
Quietly in the chilled night, if anyone cared to look up into the starry sky, they would have seen two newfound lovers finally together, exchanging stolen kisses and chuckling amongst themselves. Lucky for them, the only witnesses to them were the stars above, and two teenagers standing outside Scarabia.
Hands on her hips, Najma proudly stared up into the sky, squinting at the shadowed figures on the carpet. Wordlessly, she held up her hand, and Kalim high-fived her, grinning.
“Mission accomplished!~”
~END
———
Notes: this got so long bc of the introduction with Najma but I just had to include her and Kalim conspiring together! Anyway, hope you enjoyed the Jamil chapter, thank you so much for reading!!!!!!
Taglist: @cerisescherries, @eclecticprincecollector, @ars-tral, @thehollowwriter, @twst-eeps, @casperandcats, @ttokkisbee, @mitsuriswaifu, @parad-ice-lostandfound
@sad-sie, @moyo5653,
(If your username is in bold, it means I wasn’t able to tag you properly 😅)
#twst Pride and Prejudice au#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#jamil viper#twst jamil#disney twst#twst yuu#scarabia#najma viper#twst najma#kalim al asim#twst kalim#calcified writing
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°˖ ⊹ ꒰ CL16 ꒱ TEAM COLOURS ─ CHARLES LECLERC
CHARLES LECLERC x f!actress!reader
⌗︙・ summary — with one simple instagram story, you blew up the internet. now everyone is eager to know if the rumours are true: is Charles Leclerc really seeing Hollywood's hottest it girl?
genre — social media au, fc irene from red velvet
notes — charles didn't get pole but he did get podium!!!! so here's a gift for all us tifosi's 🥂 also - i'm of east asian ethnicity myself hence why the past 2 smau's have had EA face claims asdfhg but regardless im totally open to doing smau requests for other ethnicities!!! my inbox is open after all haha. anyways i hope u enjoy this one! apologies in advance for the google translated french LOL
yourusername added to their story. 32m
[caption: here’s to the weekend 🍾]
yourusername
Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, florencepugh, and 3,457,216 others
🏷 scuderiaferrari
yourusername screw cowgirls, i’m a car girl 🏎 🏁
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scuderiaferrari We think you look good in red ❤️
charles_leclerc I agree yourusername why thank you charles charles_leclerc Of course, ma chérie y/nfanpage1 YOOOO WHAT THE-
danielricciardo Great fun karting with ya on Thurs. You’re not bad – for a rookie 😉
yourusername oh hush you dannyricdannieric iconic new wag alert?????
landonorris as the kids say, slay ✨
yourusername i see i’ve taught you well 😌 landonorris Haha, learnt from the best! y/nl/nsleftpinkie GIRLYS PULLING THE WHOLE GRIDDDDDD purpleporschegirl FR like i’ve never seen them this active 💀💀💀
f1wagupdates
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f1wagupdates HOT OFF THE PRESS FROM f1anons ON TWITTER 🖤 After a tumultuous start to the season and a breakup from long-term partner Charlotte Sine six months ago, it seems that Charles Leclerc has found love again! The Ferrari driver was seen roaming Melbourne in the days leading up to the Australian GP, and fans have spotted him cozying up to an unknown woman. Neither Leclerc nor Scuderia Ferrari have commented on the situation.
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jamiesgridthots literally where in the og tweet did it say it was abt charles….
keepittoyaself Anon straight up said “Sine-ing” off. Who else could it be about? maybeimafool okay, so here’s the real question: who’s the girl?????? ssumertimedadness IDK, but she is sooooo lucky 😭
sculderiabullrari So, we all agree that it’s Y/N L/N, right?
sainzpookiebookie hate to be that person, but i don’t think they’ve even met each other irl... thegrreat63 ???? charles literally commented on her post about attending the AusGP ??? sennathesenate Exactly. Why else would Ferrari give her a VIP paddock pass? Just because of one viral Tweet? tifosi55 yall r delusional LOL he literaly just broke up with charlotte theyre NOT DATING!
kimiiiboxbox i know we’ve only seen them interact like once in a comments section, but i want charles and y/n to be real SO BAD
yourusername added to their story. 24s
[caption: new fave colours ❤️🖤❤️]
yourusername added to their story. 32m
[caption: monaco, here we come]
charles_leclerc added to their story. 41m
[caption: Coming home. 🇲🇨 🇲🇨]
f1wagupdates
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f1wagupdates SUBMITTED BY ANON 🖤 Amidst the rumours swirling about Oscar-nominated actress Y/N L/N being the next to join the wag crew, fans have spotted Charles Leclerc and an unknown woman spending a fun day at the beach in Monaco… 🏖☀️
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maxverstoppening uh hello????? y/n l/n posting a story about going to monaco ….. charles posting about “coming home” 30 mins later ………. somethings afoot
tsutsumnodas you’re not seriously suggesting,,,, that theyre,,, maxverstoppening many thoughts being thunk !
gaslyyup hollywood it girlie together with racing it boy? man, Monaco gp boutta be crazy fr
atoceanblvd gonna take a bath with my toaster 🥰🥰
mlniemrtinez the highway looks so comfy rn omg 😍 d3ftonesgirll They better be real or I will actually hunt both of them down.
scuderiaferrari
📍Circuit de Monaco
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🏷 yourusername
scuderiaferrari caught yourusername hard at work 💪💪💪
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yourusername doing my best for the best team 🫡
yourusername hey charles_leclerc and carlossainz55 am i doing a good job?
carlossainz55 Absolutely 👍 ! charles_leclerc Dunno about best, but you sure are the prettiest ;) yourusername …..i don’t know if i should be offended or grateful charles_leclerc ❤️😂 paddockfemcel they know EXACTLY what theyre doing 😭😭
user1 y/n and charles in the comments playing with our feelings BOI IF YOU DONT TELL US THAT YOURE TOGETHER RN-
charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc Hard at work in Monaco. What a great race week. Finished P2. It’s good to be back.
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carlossainz55 You do too much, cabrón 😂
Liked by charles_leclerc drdannyric um???? what does carlos know that we don’t….
scuderiaferrari And onwards we go! To P1 and beyond 🚀
yourusername looking good, leclerc ;)
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y/nl/nfanpage1 WHAT IS Y/N DOING HERE???
user2 no like….. seriously.... girl stand UP….. user3 I don’t get what she sees in him. He drives around in circles for a living 🙄 user4 Jeez why are yall so pressed 😭😭 they’re literally just friends… user5 !!!! that’s what im sayin!!!!! everybody’s so upset but they haven’t even confirmed if they’re dating or not LOLOLOL
charles_leclerc added to their story. 12h
[caption: Bumped into someone familiar in Monaco today @/yourusername]
yourusername
yourusername quick pit stop to smell the flowers… 🌷☁️👒
Liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, pierregasly, and 2,948,227 others
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landonorris A true rose
yourusername gosh you’re so cheesy landonorris I was talking about me not you charles_leclerc Hey, both of you play nice landonorris stay out of it Leclerc
ana_d_armas Stunning, Y/N!
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charles_leclerc 💐🖊
yourusername 💌💌 clarleslaclarc excuse me – what???? raikkkkonon oh so they have inside jokes now… racketpiquet Bro chill, it’s just a flower emoji, yall r doing too much 🤣🤣
babygotback They are so UNSERIOUSSS first Y/N with flowers on Charles’s story now this??? 😭
jantalksalot AND THAT LAST SLIDE. WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT IT!!!! mickymousemacher atp i bet they’re just messing with us for the fun of it
f1wagupdates
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f1wagupdates It seems Charles Leclerc isn’t afraid of packing on the PDA – Here he is with an unknown woman at a local bazaar in Monaco! According to sources, the Ferrari driver is reportedly “very serious” about their relationship, and a source tells us that the two are “very happy” and “very much in love”.
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yourusername added to their story. 12m
[caption: back in the city. feels good to be home!]
nyccelebgoss
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nyccelebgoss Formula 1’s hottest commodity, Charles Lecclerc, spotted Monday night outside an exclusive Soho bar. Doesn’t help that a certain Y/N L/N is also in the city… Could Leclerc’s elusive beau be the award winning actress? All we know is: Leclerc may be kissing – but he certainly isn’t telling 💋 Follow us for more NYC celebrity gossip 🤫
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tsunogaslys okay, as much as i wanna know whats going on, don’t they deserve a little privacy??
y/nluvrrrr Was just thinking that. I hope they’re ok with all this media attention.
charlosscuderia What the hell is charles doing in NYC?
mymuppetlando Y/N made a story about being in NY. You can put 2 and 2 together lol. gridgirlfriend224 oh so he’s WHIPPED whipped 😭
warytonsennea OK, now they HAVE to make some kind of statement.
y/nfanupdates Yeah, there’s literally no way around this one LOL it’s def Y/N
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag. So here I go: Mon amour, the past one year I have spent with you has simply been the best year I’ve ever had. Ma Cherie. You bring light to my life and a smile to my face each time I see you – Up on the silver screen, in the paddock cheering for me, or when I wake up next to you. Your love means more to me than you could ever know. Tu es ma vie et ma lumière. Merci d'être mienne. (You are my life and my light. Thank you for being mine.) I love you forever. ❤️
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yourusername i love you so much mon amour. here’s to one year and counting ❤️
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️❤️
danielricciardo FUCKING FINALLY!!!! congrats you two 🙌
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landodelrey ONE YEAR????? THEY’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS SECRET FOR ONE YEAR???
Liked by yourusername Liked by charles_leclerc tifosibabette16 i just KNOW that parasocial alex is smiling to himself somewhere 🤭
landonorris S’about time. Oh, and you’re too good for him, Y/N ;) McLaren is waitingggggg
yourusername sorry lando, but it's just like seb said: everyone is a ferrari fan (including me) charles_leclerc 😘 That’s my girl.
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charles_leclerc ❤️ yourusername ❤️
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#charles leclerc x reader#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1#charles leclerc social media au#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#˖⁺‧₊˚ 📂 ── my writing#꒰ ⁺‧₊˚ [🏁] formula 1
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It's Magic ✨🍁
Slightly Spooky, cute lil story about Eddie and the new witch in town ✨🍁🎃
Warnings: Eddie Munson x witch reader, soulmate bond. Cute and fluffy.
🖤🍁
Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.
There was something weird happening in Hawkins and it wasn't the usual Upside Down related weird that usually happened.
Eddie could just sense it, some spooky shit was going down and he was here for it.
He had watched enough horror movies in his life to prepare for whatever potential shit was going to happen.
It occurred to him he was maybe being a tad dramatic, there was a definite change in the air but it didn't feel like anything to worry about.
Eddie never thought he would say this after helping Dustin, his friends and the super powered kid El defeat Vecna and close the Upside Down for good, but he was bored.
Hawkins was back to its pre Upside Down level of dull and while he was grateful he was still alive and kicking and the end of the world hadn't happened, he wanted a teeny bit of excitement.
Which is why he was convincing himself that the things happening were something to be investigated.
Mostly the spooky shit had been happening to him. Weird dreams, a sense that he was waiting for something or someone.
There was also the cute but pesky little black cat that had took up residence in his room.
It was kinda nice to have something happen even if it was vivid dreams and cute felines.
Which is why he was at your place, you were the new girl in town and everyone from Steve to Dustin to Gareth was intrigued by you.
There was something about you... Something that Eddie couldn't place, something different but he was sure you were why he was feeling like everything was different.
Not that he had officially met you yet but for some reason you were in his dreams a lot. They were weird and wonderful but still unexpected.
Eddie didn't know why he was dreaming of you, shit you were pratically a stranger to him but you appeared in his dreams and there was this sense that deep down he had known you all his life.
It was witchcraft or something. That much he knew. Something was afoot and Eddie wanted to find out what.
He had tried telling Dustin his thoughts about you but the little shrimp thought you hung the moon so it was no use.
Eddie didn't know what he expected to find when he arrived at your house, except for the fact it was decorated to the nines for Halloween, there was nothing strange about it.
In fact, Eddie admired how realistic some of the decorations looked and got distracted by the cats that were hanging around in your back yard.
He was just about to leave when he noticed sparkles of light in the air, at first he assumed they were fireflies but as he got closer he realised they were something else, balls of light shaped like orbs.
If he didn't know any better he would say there was something magical about the glowing sparkling orbs.
He was about to dismiss the fact that magic wasn't real but after all the shit he had seen it was enough for him not to rule out the thought entirely, enough for him to follow the lights that seemed to be beckoning him.
A small part of his mind wondered if this was the part in the horror films where he should run but he had a feeling that he wasn't in any danger.
That's when he saw you. The glowing lights circled around you and then disappeared with a flick of your hand.
What the fuck?
He stared at the spot where they had vanished and then at you.
Fuck, no wonder Steve was smitten. You were beautiful. He gawks at you for a second before feeling like an idiot.
"Uh hey" he attempts to appear cool and composed, determined not to turn into an awkward babbling idiot but you were just so pretty.
Eddie wasn't a smooth lothario by any means but he could be confident, flirty, strut around and make pretty girls laugh when he wanted to.
However, you had made him clam up, shyness wasn't really something he struggled with. Until he saw you.
"Eddie Munson, you should try being more sneaky if you're going to attempt to spy on a lady" You tease and he gulps.
"I wasn't... Shit, I was just... Uh I got curious about you and just wanted to figure you out. There's something about you sweetheart"
A soft smile touches your lips and you approach him. He feels a little nervous, enchanted by your sweet smile and kind eyes.
"Something spooky yet intriguing? Dustin let slip" far from being offended you look amused but Eddie curses.
"Little butthead" You giggle and it takes a second for him to notice that the lights are back again, swirling around you and him.
"Uh, cool tricks" he grins and you grin at him as the whole backyard begins to glow even brighter, like fairylights all aglow.
"Oh, it's no trick handsome" You click your fingers and the lights disappear once more.
Eddie blinks rapidly, he can't ignore what's in front of him again.
"You're a witch"
"A badass one at that" the smile slips from your face and for a second you look sad.
"Do you mind keeping this a secret? Small town and all, anyone figures out that I'm a witch then either I'm suddenly their best friend or their enemy. Depends what use I am to them"
Eddie's heart aches for you and he nods. He won't tell a soul.
"I just want to be at peace here with my family, my coven. Make a home" he touched your hand, stunned at the sparks he feels when his hand touches yours.
The softness of your skin, those pretty eyes are enough for him to fall even more under your spell. Figuratively of course.
"I won't tell anyone sweetheart, I just don't understand why you told me" you peer at him your expression shy.
"You're in my dreams Eddie Munson and I bet I'm in yours too. I feel like I've known you all my life. I can trust you" his heart skips a beat as you kiss his cheek.
"Can I see you again?" he blurts out and that sweet smile is back on your lips.
"Absolutely, but you're not done seeing me now Mr Munson" you take his hand and he follows you, his heart stolen by you already.
There's a little chirp of a meow and the black cat that's been hanging around his trailer slinks between his legs and yours purring happily.
"Hey, that's the cat that's been following me around " he blushes as you grin.
"Do you like him? I know he's been hanging around you. He's my familiar and was curious about you. His name is Ozzy"
"Ozzy like Ozzy Osborne?" you nod and Eddie is pretty sure he's in love with you already.
His little witch.
♥
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x witch!reader
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