#PDF To Word Conversion

[dataentryinc]

How to Ensure Data Accuracy When Converting PDF Files to Excel: Tips and Best Practices

Have you ever found yourself completely stuck and confused while looking at numbers and texts after converting PDF files to Excel? If yes, then no worries you are not alone. Because data conversion does feel like solving a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. It’s completely frustrating and challenging.

But we are not here to cringe about it, we have a solution to make the file conversion process smooth and errorless.

Every business runs on data and accuracy is not a choice but the foundation of success. So let’s look at some amazing yet simple practices that can be followed to convert PDF Files to Excel while preventing errors.

1. Choose the Right Conversion Tool

Not all PDF conversion tools are meant for you. Think of it like choosing the right partner. Choosing the right tool can create a difference or it will just be a mess.

Compare different conversion software: Explore the tools available in the market. Look for tools like PDFelement, PDFzilla, Adobe Acrobat DC, and other PDF converters

Read User Reviews: Don’t just trust Google reviews; look for real scenarios and a detailed user experience.

Check File Size Limitations: This is a very important factor. Not all tools convert big-size PDF documents. Know your requirements and then select the tool accordingly.

Evaluate Security Features: Your business data is sensitive. You must ensure that the tool you use must comply with data protection regulations.

Look into Customer Support Options: In any case, if things go wrong you will need reliable support. Ensure that the tool has multiple support channels like call assistance, live chat and email support.

2. Master Your Tool's Settings

Settings are the secret weapons needed to fine-tune conversion settings to get the most accurate data possible.

Choose the Right Output Format: XLS is suitable for older Excel versions, CSV is suitable for normal data exchange, and XLSX is suitable for newer ones.

Configure Table Detection Settings: Table can be a little challenging. You need to experiment between automatic, manual and grid-based to find accurate methods for your document type.

Activate OCR for Scanned Documents: OCR (Optimal Character Recognition) is known for scanning image-based PDFs. It transforms images into editable texts.

Experiment with Different Data Extraction Modes: You can experiment withing extraction modes like text-based, hybrid extraction or layout-based to choose the most accurate mode for your document.

3. Data Validation is a Must

Data validation is not just about catching errors, it is about ensuring data is reliable and rock solid.

Use Data Validation Tools: You need to set up some rules in Excel right from the beginning to prevent mistakes.

Define Specific Data Types: The right format must be followed for numerical data and phone numbers so that they stay within logical ranges.

Double-Check Logical Consistency: For instance, ensure that end dates aren’t before start dates or percentages stay between the range of 0 to 100.

Highlight the Errors: Use colour-coding to highlight the errors so that they stand out visually.

Run Error Checks: Excel error-checking tools are available to catch any formula inconsistencies.

4. Organize and Format Like a Pro

To make sure that your spreadsheet is visually appealing and easy to understand follow the below points:

Sort Systematically: You can arrange it in alphabetical order or chronological order or by any order that you think can make it easy to flow.

Apply Filters: If you don’t want to dig the whole sheet every time, apply a filter to allow users to explore specific subsets.

Add Subtotals: It is necessary to provide instant insights.

Create Clean Formatting: Consistent font, colour and style just not only ensure that the sheet is visually appealing but also easy to understand.

Highlight Key Insights: Use colours and bold fonts to highlight the important details

5. Secure and Share Smartly

Your data is like treasure so you can’t afford to lose it to someone. Protect it and share it responsibly.

Export Thoughtfully: Use the export options of Excel to create files that are compatible with other platforms and software.

Add Password Protection: To keep unauthorised users away from your files, secure it with passwords.

Add Encryption: Sensitive data must be protected with encryption to add some extra security.

Apply Digital Signature: A digital signature can validate the authenticity of your document.

6. Keep Learning and Adapting

The data-driven world is evolving. Staying up to date with the regulations and tricks is necessary.

Explore New Techniques: You can attend webinars, and courses or check blogs to stay updated on latest methods.

Stay on Top of Trends: Follow tech updates and industry leaders to learn about the best conversion tools.

Experiment with New Tools: You never know what you are missing out. Explore new tools, it might make your process easier.

Let's be Honest

Data conversion never offers a smooth road to the destination. Sometimes it’s messy and challenging. What matters most is your patience and dedication. The strategies that we have discussed are practical tools that will help you with data management.

Though they don’t work like miracles.

You'll encounter obstacles:

Some PDFs will resist conversion

Formatting won't always align perfectly

Complex documents will test your patience

With the right approach, these problems can be overcome. The right tools and techniques can turn your messy documents into useful and valuable spreadsheets.

Time to unlock the full potential of your documents to transform your challenges into opportunities. Start your journey to hassle-free PDF conversion services today!

Source Link: https://latestbpoblog.blogspot.com/2025/02/how-to-ensure-data-accuracy-when-converting-pdf-files-to-excel.html

[roswellsplace]

42 Pages of Sic (It's Not Mine)

42 Pages of SicDownload – why has Mr. Roswell been throwing his/their/it’s ‘sic(k)’ all over the gosh darn place!?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Words to describe blood without saying crimson or blood?

Blood—the fluid that circulates in the heart, arteries, capillaries, and veins of a vertebrate animal carrying nourishment and oxygen to and bringing away waste products from all parts of the body

Arterial - relating to or being the bright red blood present in most arteries that has been oxygenated in lungs or gills

Body fluid - a fluid or fluid secretion (such as blood, lymph, saliva, semen, or urine) of the body

Carmine - a vivid red

Cerise - a moderate red

Claret - a dark purplish red

Clot - a coagulated mass produced by clotting of blood

Cruor - obsolete: the clotted portion of coagulated blood

Ensanguine - to make bloody; crimson

Geranium - a vivid or strong red

Gore - blood, especially: clotted blood

Hematic - of, relating to, or containing blood

Hematoid - resembling blood

Hemoglobin - an iron-containing respiratory pigment of vertebrate red blood cells that consists of a globin composed of four subunits each of which is linked to a heme molecule, that functions in oxygen transport to the tissues after conversion to oxygenated form in the gills or lungs, and that assists in carbon dioxide transport back to the gills or lungs after surrender of its oxygen

Hemoid - resembling blood

Ichor - a thin watery or blood-tinged discharge

Incarnadine - bloodred

Juices - the natural fluids of an animal body

Maroon - a dark red

Plasma - the fluid part of blood, lymph, or milk as distinguished from suspended material

Puce - a dark red

Ruddle - red ocher (i.e., a red earthy hematite used as a pigment)

Russet - a reddish brown

Sanguine - bloodred; consisting of or relating to blood

Scarlet - any of various bright reds

Vermilion - any of various red pigments

Word Lists ⚜ Blood ⚜ Exsanguination ⚜ On Blood ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[howtological]

Learn how to convert PDF to Word using online tools, desktop software, and Microsoft Word. Discover the best tools for the job and follow step-by-step instructions for a seamless conversion process. https://howtological.com/how-to-convert-pdf-to-word-a-complete-guide-with-the-best-tools/?feed_id=2181&_unique_id=662f1222de237

[uniquesdata]

Boost Probability by Outsourcing Image Conversion Services

Images are a way of communication in the digital world. It attracts and compels the audience to proceed further with your business. Not only eCommerce but other businesses also require image conversion services for various aspects including advertisements, brochures, social media, and much more.

Uniquesdata offers reliable image conversion services for a variety of businesses to make a powerful impact.

[freelancingfromhome]

Hi, I am here for helping you to collect leads and manually data entry work. Please fell free to contact.

[shawnjordison]

Turn PDF Math into Accessible Word Docs with MathPix

Discover how to convert PDF math problems into accessible Word documents with ease using MathPix. This guide walks you through each step, ensuring that you make math accessible for everyone, including those using assistive technologies

This post will explore how to use MathPix snip to convert a PDF full of math Images into an accessible Word document with accessible math! Video Overview The Importance of Converting PDF Math to Accessible Formats Math is a universal language. Yet, its accessibility is often restricted. The culprit? PDF files filled with math equations that aren’t screen-reader-friendly. This gap needs to be…

[lesbianonna]

really really wish i had more time to learn spanish :(

[eliasgkhighflyer]

[deadlypawz]

Now more than ever is a good time to learn to make zines.

What Are Zines?

Zines ("zeens") are small, self-published booklets filled with whatever the creator is passionate about. They can focus on personal stories, niche interests, or even artwork. Unlike traditional publications, zines are informal, handmade, and often deeply personal. They don’t have to be perfect—what matters is the message and creativity behind them.

How Zines Spread Information

Zines are powerful tools for sharing ideas, especially when mainstream outlets overlook certain voices or topics

- They’re Accessible: You don’t need fancy equipment or money to make one—just paper, pens, and your imagination

- They Cover What Matters to You: Zines are great for exploring personal experiences, activism, or any quirky interests you’re passionate about

- They Build Community: Zines often connect like-minded people, sparking conversations and creating new relationships

- They Educate and Inspire: Whether it’s about a social cause, a DIY skill, or your favorite band, zines can teach and inspire readers

How to Make a Zine

1. Pick Your Topic: What’s the thing you can’t stop thinking about? That’s your zine idea.

2. Plan Your Pages: Jot down what you want to include—stories, drawings, photos, poems, or collages. Anything goes!

3. Choose a Format: The easiest option is a mini-zine (made from one folded sheet of paper), but you can also staple multiple pages together for a booklet

4. Design Your Layout: Use scissors, glue, markers, and whatever you have on hand. If you prefer digital tools, programs like Canva or even Word work well! I use Procreate

5. Print & Assemble: Make photocopies or print them at home. You can alzojust remake them by hand. Fold, staple, or bind them together however you like

6. Share It: Hand them out to friends, leave them in local spots, or share them online as PDFs

Zines are all about self-expression, so don’t worry about making it perfect—it’s your creation, and that’s what matters. Invite friends to contribute, try different styles, and most importantly, have fun with it.

The diagram below information is from https://socialstudio.space/how-to-zine-library/

All of these tags are here for a reason.

[toxicmalysh]

Are you listening Detka?

Wanda X female reader

Word count: 1k+

Summary: established relationship, Wanda is the CEO of her company and has to travel from time to time, whilst calling your attentive girlfriend things take a turn

Warnings: masturbation (R and W), slight degrading, mentions of breeding if you squint, that's pretty much it

✧⋆✦⋆✧

Your girlfriend being the head of her company had its perks, she spoiled you, rotten, anything you even paid more than 5 seconds of attention to she'd buy it for you. Going abroad to sight see, spending time in beautiful villas and beaches. Driving you around in expensive cars with that clean smell. Dates in exclusive restaurants drinking wine you couldn't afford even if you worked for months. It was a lush lifestyle you never imagined until you bumped into the curious woman at your local cafe a few years ago.

However, her job also had its cons, specifically her need to travel from time to time. The job was demanding, having to go to different sites was one of them. It wasn't often but when it was it was for a few weeks at a time leaving you lonely in your shared bed, missing her comfort dearly.

The time difference wasn't much, leaving you a few hours ahead, and she called routinely in her evenings after countless meetings. Usually you'd talk about her day, useless staff not handling her instructions, or your day and how your part time job was going. Tonight however, you were missing one of her features in particular, her ability to make you feel good. You were craving her touch.

"it was an absolute nightmare, I kept telling him he needed to format the spreadsheets before printing them because of the pdf conversion but he just wasn't getting it."

Wanda's voice was smooth through the phone speaker, her subtle accent normally mesmerized you, but there was a slight hoarseness from how tired she was. The usually raspy tone she'd take with you when telling you to spread your legs or lay still.

Your thighs were mindlessly rubbing together, as you found yourself fidgeting to suppress the ache between your legs as your girlfriend spoke. You cleared your throat before attempting to respond.

"haven't you already explained that to him the last time you saw him?"

You listened to the slight groan from the other side, more lewd thoughts filtering into your mind and the idea of how she was usually under you when making that sort of noise.

"I did yeah,"

She took a sharp breath before continuing, you wanted to pay attention, but the throbbing was unbearable and the thought of Wanda next to you stroking your thighs wasn't leaving your head anytime soon.

You shuffled around, humming along to what Wanda was saying, focusing on removing your pyjama bottoms and panties.

"and he tried to argue that he hadn't had this issue before, but he absolutely did because I have told him so many times the graph gets cut off on the right hand side,"

Your focus was faulty, your hand gliding over your right breast slowly, pinching ever so gently over your nipple, all you could process was the cracking of her accent and the wetness spreading across the skin of your thighs.

You rolled your nipple a few times before placing your phone on speaker, onto your nightstand, tracing slow lines down your abdomen before your mound. You needed Wanda so badly, shutting your eyes imagining her hands on your skin.

You pick up specific words coming from Wanda's rant, "dumb" "choke" "so well" "for me" "go on", those few words usually used in a context of punishment or pleasure with you.

Your head was fuzzy, imagining Wanda's fingers gliding up your soaking folds, warm and sensitive from the neediness of the situation. You hummed in response to Wanda's sentences whenever she paused for more than two seconds.

"Are you okay?"

The question snapped you out of your trance for a moment, your fingers freezing, and you began composing yourself to answer,

"Yeah Wands," you were more breathless than you realised, "yeah just keep talking."

"okay darling, well," she paused to remember where she was, your fingers rising to rub tight circles on your clit, "after all of that she finally agreed that,"

Warm, you felt so warm, your chest rising quickly, your fingers moving faster, you weren't even aware of how heavy your breathing had gotten over the phone.

"Are you listening detka?"

Wanda's voice wasn't irritated, but rather low and curious, you began nodding before answering, gulping as you hummed in response not trusting your own words.

There was a few moments of silence before Wanda spoke again,

"let me hear how wet you are."

Your eyes rolled and you let out an audible whine at her words. Usually you'd be humiliated with how she knew what you were doing, embarrassed that you couldn't control yourself around her, but with how close you already were and how badly you needed her, you slid your fingers slowly into your pulsing hole before finding a rougher rhythm.

Wanda could hear your fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, the wet sounds echoing through the phone. She reached for her own pyjamas, pulling them down before placing her phone on speaker matching you.

“Do you miss me that much sweetheart? Need my touch that badly?”

You whined down the line, your fingers moving faster inside yourself, you were nodding quickly, even though Wanda couldn't see, she knew you were, she knew you were answering like the good girl you were. You could feel yourself throbbing around your digits, feeling slightly unsatisfied knowing it wasn't Wanda's slender fingers filling you up.

“Tell me, what would you want if I was there detka?”

You hummed softly, pulling your fingers from your pussy and onto your clit, making faster circles than before, needing a release.

“I.. I would want you to be rough, make sure I knew you still needed to touch my body, feel my pussy around your fingers.”

Wanda's hand found her own clit, groping her breast firmly as she breathed out, imaging you squirming beneath her, crying for anything,

“What about my strap hm? Would you want me to fill that pretty cunt of yours?”

Her voice was broken and your eyes rolled at the idea, suddenly feeling empty with just your hand to pleasure yourself. You cried out as you pushed two fingers back into yourself, curling them the same way Wanda would.

“Please, please I need your cock.”

Your voice was dripping with impatience and neediness, Wanda knew you were close, and the moans that were falling from your lips were pushing her faster to her own climax. She could imagine the way your pussy would throb around her strap, sucking her in deeper as you twitched in pleasure from such strong orgasms.

“I miss you so much.”

Wanda let out an unholy whine at your words, squeezing her eyes as she focused on the sounds of your fingers squelching in your heat. She felt the familiar coil in her abdomen, needing to let go of her pent up stress.

“You have no idea how badly I want to taste what's making all that noise.”

You bit your lip at your girlfriend's voice, breathless and whiney. Her voice was always so commanding and stable, right now it was anything but, shaking and cracking as she moaned through her words. Even the idea of how needy Wanda was to feel and taste you was enough to push you to the orgasm you were ready to beg for,

“Can I cum? Please can I cum? Please please?”

Wanda thought it was adorable how messy you were when begging, repeating words, struggling to finish a sentence, it was utterly adorable. She waited a few seconds, successfully catching up to you before answering,

“Come for me detka be a good girl for me.”

As soon as you heard Wanda's high pitch moan leave her lips, hearing the slight ruffle of the fabric on her end from how hard she was convulsing, your body finally snapped. A white hot rush spread across your body, your limbs locking as they shook erratically, your legs squeezing your hand and arm. Your back arched off the bed and you let out a cracked moan, falling limp immediately as your legs fell back open.

Your breaths synchronised, and you ran your fingers through your hair as you caught your breath, eyes remaining shut as you came down. Just as you were ready to apologise to Wanda for not listening to her rant, her quiet voice climbed through the speaker,

“Can you do another one for me sweetheart?”

[fellominaarcher]

THE DEVIL'S BRIDE — JENNIE

now I'm fucking leaning on that

SYNOPSIS

» » Desperate to revive her dying music career, burned-out producer Y/N performs a ritual to sell her soul to the devil—only to summon Jennie, the devil’s daughter. But the deal comes with a twist: her soul won’t just be sold, it’ll be married. Now bound by an unholy matrimony, Y/N must navigate a literal deal with the devil… wedding vows, rings, and all.

» » devil!Jennie x artist!fem!reader

» » genre: supernatural horror-romance, dark comedy & psychological thriller

» » warning: power imbalance, occult themes, ritualistic self-harm, blood, dubious consent within contract marriage, morally grey actions, strong language & mind games & sex (in the future)

» » inspo: Unholy Matrimony — Karina x fem!reader, I can't find the OG author account :((

Y/N used to be everywhere. A sought-after songwriter-producer with hits under her belt, awards on her shelf, and a waiting list of artists begging for a piece of her sound. But lately, the tide had turned. Newer, younger producers had flooded the scene. Labels were chasing trends, not talent. The phone didn’t ring as often. The emails came less and less.

It wasn’t that she was any older than them. It was just the way the industry worked: burn fast, fade faster. She was burned out. Inspiration had dried up. And no matter how many all-nighters she pulled or vintage synths she dusted off, nothing sounded right anymore.

Desperate to reignite the dream she built from scratch, Y/N did something she never thought she would.

She considered selling her soul.

It started as a joke—one of those late-night, half-drunk conversations with a friend who said, “You might as well summon the devil at this point.”

Y/N laughed at first. But something about the idea lingered.

She didn’t believe in anything, really. Not heaven, not hell, not even the horoscope. She wasn't raised with that kind of fear. But desperation breeds a different kind of faith. And she was running out of options.

So she researched. Dug into forums, deep web archives, dusty occult PDFs. It was ridiculous, sure but what if it worked?

Then came the night.

A full moon. Wind howling against the glass windows of her penthouse. Unlit candles lined the floor, forming a crooked path from the studio to the open balcony. Her white silk robe fluttered as she stood barefoot on the cold marble floor. A sharp knife in hand.

She sliced her palm—flinched. Blood welled and dripped.

A drop on her tongue. A few into red wine. The rest splattered onto the black marble. She muttered the words she'd memorized, her voice trembling, unsure.

The room fell silent.

Then—

“Well, my father couldn’t make it. Or as I might say: he won’t do it. So he sent me instead. His daughter. One of them.”

The voice was smooth, sultry, and amused.

Y/N turned.

Standing in the shadows of her balcony was a woman—striking, terrifying, beautiful. Catlike eyes that glinted with mischief. Crimson lips curled into a lazy smile. Black boots clicked against marble as she stepped forward, like she owned the place.

Y/N stumbled back, falling to her knees. “What the…?”

The woman, Jennie, cocked her head. “Do you know what you’re getting into? Selling your soul. Devoting yourself to Hell. Tsk. Pathetic. Desperate little dog.”

Y/N blinked up at her, breath catching. “So... slice the palm, blood, wine, creepy words then I sell my soul to the devil, right? That’s how it works?”

Jennie grinned. “Correct.”

Then she paused.

“But... you do know that ‘sell your soul to the devil’ is quite literal, right? Like, marriage literal. Vows, rings, binding contracts. Consummation. All that.”

Y/N stared, slack-jawed. “...Wait, what?”

Jennie raised a brow, her tone flat. “What do you mean ‘what?’ This is standard procedure. You want success, my family wants souls. It’s transactional. Marriage makes it binding.”

Y/N squinted. “You mean like... wedding marriage?”

“Exactly. Dress, vows, eternal damnation. Maybe a honeymoon in Hell. My father's old-fashioned that way.” Jennie waved a hand dismissively as she wandered the penthouse, inspecting the place like a realtor. “Honestly, you’re lucky. If you had summoned him, it would’ve been way worse.”

Y/N was still kneeling, mind reeling.

“A wedding?” she echoed weakly.

“With me,” Jennie added, smiling down at her. “Unless you’re having second thoughts?”

Y/N stared at the wine glass still stained with blood. She thought of her dwindling bank account. Her name slipping off playlists. Her inbox, empty.

Jennie, Satan’s daughter, held out her hand not for a handshake, but like she was offering a dance.

“So?” she said, with a smirk. “Do you want to be mine, or not?”

Y/N blinked. Her head was a cloud of disbelief and iron-scented fog. She glanced at the hand, perfectly manicured and ominously calm, and gently slapped it aside as she rose on shaky legs.

“Don't take this personally,” Y/N muttered. “I just... need a minute.”

Jennie raised a brow, amused. “Oh, honey. That was very personal. Want to hear what happened to the last girl who said ‘give me a minute’?”

“No.”

“Smart.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, ignoring the sting in her palm. This was all spiraling. She wasn’t sure if she was hallucinating, or if burnout had finally bloomed into full-on insanity. Marriage? To the devil’s daughter?

Did she not read those crusty, probably-forbidden ritual papers carefully enough? Maybe she was just too excited at the idea of not fading into irrelevance to fully process the fine print.

“Am I marrying you right now?” she asked, voice dry and tinged with panic. “Like... this second?”

Jennie had already picked up the blood-tinged wine and was sipping it casually, like it was sparkling juice at a dinner party.

“The drink’s not bad,” Jennie commented, smacking her lips before casting Y/N a sidelong glance. “Needs more blood, less Merlot.”

“Answer the question,” Y/N said, grabbing a clean towel and pressing it to her bleeding hand.

Jennie’s smile curled lazily, like a cat stretching on a pile of bones. “Well... do you want a human-style wedding? Vows, flowers, questionable music choices, drunk uncles?”

“Hard pass.”

“Then we do it our way,” Jennie said sweetly, too sweetly.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “And how exactly do demons or whatever you are get married?”

Jennie stepped closer, her boots soundless on the marble floor. She looked up at the ceiling, humming dramatically like she was trying to remember something she absolutely wasn't.

Jennie stepped closer, her boots soundless on the marble floor. She looked up at the ceiling, humming dramatically like she was trying to remember something she absolutely wasn't.

“Oh, you know. Your soul gets dragged into Hell. You recite some ancient vow no living tongue can pronounce properly. Then we soak your body in a thick, black tar-like substance and voilà! You’re married.”

Y/N blinked. “...That’s the whole process?”

“Almost. Consummation too,” Jennie added, tone flat now. “It... binds the soul.”

Y/N looked at her. “You mean sex.”

While Jennie explained the terms of this supernatural marriage contract, Y/N's mind raced. Was it worth sacrificing herself for eternal damnation just to hear her songs on the radio again? What if she changed her mind later? What if there was no "later" to speak of?

But she'd already summoned a literal demon into her penthouse. It was too late for second thoughts.

Y/N turned to face Jennie fully, decision crystallizing like ice in her chest. "Deal. Let's get married." The words left her mouth before her brain could stop them, heart hammering against her ribs like it was trying to escape.

Jennie glided over to Y/N with predatory grace, setting the wine glass down with a soft clink before taking hold of Y/N's injured hand. The towel fell away like a discarded prayer. "From now on," Jennie murmured, fingertips brushing the open wound with surprising gentleness, "I am yours and you are... mine."

The cut sealed itself instantly, skin knitting together as if it had never been torn. Not even a scar remained but just smooth, unmarked flesh and the ghost memory of pain.

Y/N stared at her healed palm, then at Jennie's face. This was really happening. She was about to marry Satan's daughter—a being whose name she didn't even know yet. A creature with red hair that caught the candlelight like flame, eyes that held hints of red in their depths, and an expression that managed to be both devastatingly beautiful and faintly cruel.

Is this how devils were supposed to look? Hauntingly gorgeous with killer smiles and the ability to heal wounds with a touch?

"By the way," Jennie said, as if reading her thoughts, "you look absolutely pathetic standing there gaping like a fish. It's almost endearing in a deeply embarrassing way."

Y/N blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, did I stutter? You summoned me with all the grace of a drunk toddler, nearly fainted at the sight of your own blood, and now you're staring at me like I'm some sort of museum exhibit." Jennie's laugh was melodic and mean. "Honestly, I'm starting to wonder if Hell has quality standards anymore."

And somehow, despite everything, Y/N found herself almost smiling. At least her future wife had personality.

Even if that personality seemed dedicated to creative insults.

Jennie didn’t wait for another word. With a palm pressed firmly between Y/N’s shoulder blades, she guided her into the dining hall. The space felt different—off. The air was heavier here, the shadows slower to retreat.

At the head of the long, obsidian dining table, Jennie pulled a velvet-cushioned chair out with a lazy grace. Then, without ceremony, she shoved Y/N by the shoulder into it.

“Let’s get married, you little puppy,” Jennie purred, brushing Y/N’s hair back with a predatory tenderness. Her eyes glinted, just for a second, with a crimson flash. She bit her bottom lip, excitement curling at the corners of her mouth.

The literal daughter of Satan was about to wed a struggling pop producer. If it weren’t happening to her, Y/N would’ve laughed at the absurdity. This sounded like internet folklore cooked up by someone high on cough syrup.

Y/N tilted her head to look up at Jennie. “This instant?”

Jennie pushed her head gently but firmly to face forward again.

“Sit still.”

Y/N blinked. “I didn’t even get your name yet. Hey…”

Jennie sighed as if this was the most inconvenient conversation she’d had all century. “Oh, shut up.”

And yet, Y/N didn’t resist. Not really. Just a small grumble. She wasn't scared, not in the traditional sense—more like disoriented, as if this was a dream dressed up in velvet and blood.

Jennie stepped closer. She cupped Y/N’s face, fingers cool against her skin. Then, with a smooth motion, she covered Y/N’s eyes with both hands.

Darkness.

Then came the whispering.

Jennie’s voice first, soft and low in her right ear. Then others—many others—joined in, layering over each other like a ghostly chorus. Y/N couldn’t understand the words, but they echoed somewhere inside her, twisting through her bones. She felt dizzy. Sleepy. Disconnected from her body.

Where does this take her?

When Jennie finally lifted her hands, Y/N gasped.

She was no longer in her penthouse.

The space stretched endlessly in all directions, an eerie void painted in shades of crimson and black. The air smelled metallic, thick. Ruby stones grew from the ground like grass. The sky above them pulsed a dark, sick red. The silence here had sound.

Hell.

“This is home, Y/N,” Jennie whispered again, her breath grazing her ear. A single claw-like nail dragged along Y/N’s jaw, sharp enough to prick but not pierce.

Y/N stood, blinking at the uncanny landscape. Her mind screamed this had to be a hallucination. A dream. But the cold under her bare feet, the thick air in her lungs—everything felt real.

She was here.

She summoned the devil. And the devil said yes.

How the hell was she supposed to back out now?

Regret was blooming, fast and uninvited.

Jennie stepped around her with a smug calmness and slipped her hand into Y/N’s. “C’mon. Let’s make us belong to each other now.”

Y/N said nothing. Wordless, like the little lost dog Jennie kept calling her, she followed.

The “venue” was horrifyingly beautiful. Dark elegance stitched into every inch. The floor was lined with polished black stone. Candles floated mid-air, their flames flickering with a purple hue. Ruby stones grew like tall grass around the ceremonial space, their surfaces catching light that seemed to come from nowhere. Contrary to traditional beliefs about Hell, there was no fire.

Before she knew it, Y/N found herself standing at an altar with Jennie holding both her hands. She glanced at their wedding guests: a group of figures with faces obscured by cloth wrapped around their heads like burial shrouds.

It was deeply unsettling.

They didn’t speak. They didn’t move. But Y/N felt them watching.

Worse, above them was beyond the fabric of this twisted sky—loomed something. A colossal presence. Watching. Breathing. Waiting.

Y/N’s stomach churned.

“The name’s Jennie, by the way,” Jennie said with a wink.

Before Y/N could respond, Jennie pressed her thumb to Y/N’s forehead.

Y/N’s body convulsed. Her head jerked back as if struck by lightning, and a deep gag rose from her throat. Her eyes rolled back, whites fully exposed. A burning pain shot down her spine.

“If you see it…” Jennie whispered, lips brushing Y/N’s ear, “read the vow.”

Y/N could suddenly see it.

Not written but etched into her mind, carved in symbols older than memory. A vow in a language not meant for mortals, vibrating against her skull, begging to be spoken.

With trembling lips, Y/N spoke the words. They felt like ash and fire pouring from her throat.

Each syllable echoed. The covered heads guests figures raised their heads. The red sky rippled. The ground beneath her feet shuddered.

And Jennie’s smile stretched wider.

This was no metaphor. This was real. This was Hell. And Y/N was marrying it.

Everything after the vow moved too quickly for Y/N to process.

One moment, she was standing on the altar, voice still echoing from an ancient vow her mouth wasn’t supposed to form. The next, shadowy creatures with tightly wrapped cloth around their heads—no eyes, no features, no humanity were dragging her somewhere deeper. Their touch was ice, their hands skeletal and firm.

She was paralyzed beneath them, limbs slack, breath shallow.

They carried her toward the black water.

It rippled like oil and stank of iron and forgotten things. No reflection. No end. Just a surface meant for swallowing. The moment she was lowered in, it enveloped her completely.

A part of the ritual.

A necessary step to marry the devil.

Y/N had thought it would be simpler. Slice your palm, spill some blood, recite a few spooky phrases—and boom. Contract signed.

But no.

It was so much more disturbing than she could’ve imagined.

Just flesh. And vows. And immersion.

All happening too fast, too surreal for her mind to latch onto.

And suddenly—

She was back.

Back in the endless red-and-black void, but seated now, shivering slightly on a velvet-cushioned chair that hadn’t been there before. Across from her sat Jennie. Red hair glowing like embers, eyes fixed on Y/N with an unreadable expression.

Not quite concern. Not quite cruelty.

Curiosity.

She tilted her head. “It’s okay. You did good,” Jennie said, voice low and eerily gentle. “Now... let’s get you home.”

Before Y/N could respond, Jennie leaned in and wrapped an arm around her. Not tight, but supportive. Y/N, exhausted beyond reason, allowed her body to lean into it. The weight of everything—ritual, vow, decision—came crashing down all at once.

Her head dropped against Jennie’s shoulder. Dizzy. Breathless. Empty. It had taken so much out of her. And yet, she hadn’t even begun to pay the price.

This was just the start.

Still... if it meant going back to what she once was—writing hit after hit, producing music that swallowed the world whole, getting her name back into every artist’s mouth and every teenager’s playlist...

Maybe it was worth it. Maybe.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, her breath softening as the void around them began to melt away.

And Jennie? Jennie simply smiled.

taglist (open) — @saysirhc

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Psychology

more psychological concepts as reference for your poem/story

Absent grief - a form of complicated grief in which a person shows no, or only a few, signs of distress about the death of a loved one. This pattern of grief is thought to be an impaired response resulting from denial or avoidance of the emotional realities of the loss.

Being love - (or B-love) in Abraham Maslow’s humanistic psychology, a form of love characterized by mutuality, genuine concern for another’s welfare and pleasure, and reduced dependency, selfishness, and jealousy. B-love is one of the qualities Maslow ascribes to self-actualizers.

Cyclopean eye - a theoretical eye, located on the midline between the real eyes, that has access to the functions of both eyes and is used in descriptions of space perception and eye movements.

Dream ego - in the analytic psychology of Carl Jung, a fragment of the conscious ego that is active during the dream state.

Epiphany - a sudden perception of the essential nature of oneself, others, or reality.

Family mythology - the shared stories, norms, and beliefs within a family system. The mythology can be used to deny trauma or pathology within the family or to ascribe meaning to events in ways that suggest their inevitability or importance.

Guilt culture - a trend or organizing principle in a society characterized by the use of guilt to promote socially acceptable behavior. Guilt cultures emphasize both self-control in the face of temptation and self-initiated responsibility for one’s actions if transgressions should occur.

Hedonic treadmill - a metaphor for a hypothesis proposing that people’s happiness tends to return to a preexisting baseline level after positive or negative life events have occurred. According to this concept, positive and negative events may produce short-term shifts in mood, but these shifts tend to erode in a relatively brief period of time. This process of adaptation is thought to be responsible for the persistence of mood states over time, often in the face of considerable efforts to change them. Although there is good evidence for this hypothesis, research has demonstrated that people do not always return to baseline after the occurrence of mood-changing events.

Jactitation - (or jactation) extreme restlessness marked by frequent movements and tossing about.

Leaving the field - the act of removing oneself from a situation when confronted with seemingly insurmountable obstacles, insoluble conflicts, or intensely frustrating problems. It may involve physical withdrawal, escape into psychogenic illness, or some other behavior, such as distraction or changing the subject during a conversation.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Part 1 2 3 ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[howtological]

Learn how to convert PDF to Word using online tools, desktop software, and Microsoft Word. Discover the best tools for the job and follow step-by-step instructions for a seamless conversion process. https://howtological.com/how-to-convert-pdf-to-word-a-complete-guide-with-the-best-tools/?feed_id=2101&_unique_id=661ad2e5159fd