#when they could be spending that time. Googling? Reading? Asking their peers questions?

[jaxwritess]

Bittersweet Memories (Darkstache)

TW: Angsty, Wilford briefly remembers the past, crying

Dark often found himself listening to Wilford's aura— usually, a barely-audible song, which most people might mistake as an earworm— without even meaning to. He did it for many reasons. For one, they often couldn't help it. Maybe they were just better attuned to the sound. Wilford's excitement sometimes made the music quite hard to miss. But on the other hand, there were some rare days when the fast-paced music would slow and distort, and those were the ones that worried Dark the most. There were a few reasons the usually bright music might sound grim, and frankly, he didn't like what any of them might be.

Today, as Dark was wrapping up a meeting, their own aura was ringing just a tad louder than usual, stress and annoyance building. Maybe that's why he didn't pick up on the shift in Wilford's music immediately. When they did, however, their stomach dropped. His partner (in crime, for life. Either worked depending on the day) had elected to stay downstairs and out of the meeting today but had refused to say why. For a split second, Dark wondered if maybe Wilford had stepped out of the building, but he stood from his seat when he heard a long, wonky note.

"Meeting dismissed. I don't have time for questions today; if anyone needs anything, reach out via Google Blue."

The android frowned and narrowed its eyes, but didn't say anything when Dark made eye contact. Instead, it folded its hands and nodded stiffly. Dark had something else to attend to. That didn't make him any less salty, of course, especially when several of the others crowded around to ask questions.

Dark didn't have time to dwell too much on the other's glare and instead retreated from the room, leaving their things to be packed up later. Something was going on with Wilford, and that took priority.

He followed the soft music to his office downstairs, and he felt a pinch more anxiety. Was Wilford looking for him? He didn't often spend time there unless Dark was working, so it was difficult to reason why else he might be there. He raised a hand to open the door but paused briefly to collect his thoughts as he picked up on another quiet, warped note. If he was visibly distressed, it would probably make Wilford feel even worse. They took a deep breath— technically, they didn't need the oxygen, but it helped ground them regardless— and felt their shoulders rise and fall. Wilford seemed to be less prone to reading the auras, so even as Dark's rang louder, his expression and posture would be what mattered most. He closed his eyes and repeated the process before finally letting his hand find the handle, and he cracked the door open.

He peered in, doing a courtesy sweep of the room before his eyes landed on his desk chair, which was turned away from the door. "Wilford?" They asked gently, cautious. When the other was like this, sometimes it was difficult to know when he would be sad or violent. Some days, it could be both. It depended on what it was he remembered on any given day.

Still, despite the lack of verbal response, he heard a loud sniffle. Quietly, they stepped inside and shut the door. As they moved closer, they made a point to walk a little louder, hoping not to surprise their husband. "Wilford, is everything alright?"

As they rounded the desk, Wilford span the chair slightly, just enough to look at them from the corner of his eye. He was still silent, save for a few teary sniffles, letting his gaze fall back to a metallic tin in his hands.

Dark took a moment to notice just how much brown was in both Wilford's hair and his mustache, leaving just the tips to be the usual bubblegum pink. If Dark had to guess, he was remembering quite a bit of their shared past. He took a moment to look at the box in Wilford's hands, and a lump formed in his throat.

They were both quiet for a long few minutes before Wilford weakly lifted the box. "I gave these to her, just before..." He stopped, letting his hand fall back to his lap. "Do you know the superstition behind these?"

Dark took a moment to compose himself as he drew closer, then gently put a hand on the other's shoulder. "A person's first tarot cards are meant to be gifted to them." He mumbled, watching as Wilford opened it and read the engraving on the inside.

"Mark wouldn't do it," he laughed, though it sounded bittersweet. "She didn't ask me to, but I found some during one of my trips to the East. I..." He paused, then moved to wipe away some of his tears with one of his wrists. "She was so happy."

"She was." Dark agreed softly, crouching down.

Wilford stared at the deck, though he closed the container again before doing anything else. He let out a shaky breath. "I can't believe she kept them." He thought, maybe, she'd have gotten rid of them after the truth came out.

"Of course she did." Carefully, he turned the chair, so that Wilford was facing him.

"She loved me, didn't she?" He finally made eye contact with his partner as tears welled up in his eyes again.

Gently, he took the box from Wilford's hands and placed it on the desk, then moved to gently grasp his hands. The other made no protest. "She does. They both do." Carefully, they guided him to stand up, then lifted his hands to kiss them softly.

Wilford was quiet for a few long moments, staring down at nothing in particular. Slowly, his gaze moved to meet Dark's, and he frowned. "Is it ever lonely? Being the only one to remember?"

They hummed, dropping their gaze to their hands. "Sometimes..." He paused to let go of the other's hands, instead opting to loosely hold his hips. "But I know you're happier not remembering."

He followed Dark's lead, letting his hands find a place on their shoulders. "You don't mind? Even if I'll just forget it all again?"

At that, he moved to kiss Wilford's cheek. "Of course not. It's not your fault."

He leaned closer to bury his face in Dark's shoulder, letting out another quiet sob.

Wilford didn't speak again, not for a few minutes, and by then, the pink was returning to his hair and the music in his aura was picking up again. He leaned back to look at Dark, confused by his expression, and lifted a hand to wipe away the tears on his own face. "Did something happen, Darky?"

He sighed, moving a hand to cup Wilford's cheek. When the other leaned into his hand, he offered a somber smile. "Nothing for you to worry about, Wil."

#jax writes #writing #requests open #fluff #angst #Markiplier #Markiplier egos #Darkiplier #Wilford Warfstache #Brief Googleiplier #Something a lil soft #Mentions Celine (MarkCU) #Mentions Actor Mark (MarkCU) #Mentions Damien (MarkCU) #Markiplier Cinematic Universe #Tarot cards/witchy stuff mention #Tears #I had fun writing about the auras lol #Wilford remembers #Darkstache #he/they Darkiplier

[tobythesudriantram]

Learn to communicate with peers: Confidence (Learning with Mingle and Friends: Confidence, but I GOOGLE TRANSLATED IT 40 TIMES)

Teacher: Sir! Confused! I enjoy the garden with my friends.

* It's a bicycle-swing game, so when you try to ride it, your friend will try to go on the pole.

Dean: Hello.

Donkey: Yes!

Read: BP!

Sekalainen: This country is a great place to work. i love the site! I think you should work in this field.

* The boy wanted to climb the monkey mountain but could not. Tried to catch him but failed.

Friends: *friends only*!

Paul: Don't go, buddy. good friend

*asked the girl*

* Try to ride the bike and fall many times.

Kai: Wow!

Mars: So doctor?

Togo: Yes, I'm fine.

* Try, succeed, succeed.

Merlin: Yes. do a lot

Course Description: Open.

Don still wants to skate.

* Numbness trying to jump.

Dingle: Wow! he

Malang: My heart hurts. Painful, right?

Digg: Well, I tried to jump right in and I fell.

Mixed program: You can repeat the same program if necessary.

Bat: Good team.

* Rest and return to camp.

* Wake up with your beloved, wake up in the light.

Boy: Cry! Bob's brother

* The boy gets up and tries again. I fell many times.

Dad: *sorry* nod!

* Do not try to get out, but said

cried the donkey

Dunk: Why aren't you done yet!

*love and tears*

* Dingle leaves the room but kills his mother.

* not the pain of death.

So no. they are very patient

Everyone is surprised by the number of digits. I need your help. Oh, something made me happy! The future must be predicted.

* The string is cut from the glass.

Note: This is a mineral water bottle. The small light turns on and off as you walk. You can use it to heal.

* Li Ming called everyone and everyone came to him. *

Tonk: Really? *Name*

Introduction: I can help you here.

*Tuesday morning together*

Plus: a glass of cocktail.

*Pull*

Below are the steps.

• Everyone stirs the bottle, and everything in the bottle begins to weigh and burn. *

Delia : Are you ready? Call me when it snows. Don't forget to stop. Relax your body🎵

* Everyone happily turned off the lights.

Manga: What are you doing?

Question: Yes.

Cash machine

Friend: My baby is crying.

Rolly: Yes. Thank you for the music

On Tuesday he drank a glass of champagne and passed out.

Mars - I wonder if you are trying something new now, but if you put in the time and effort. You will achieve your goal

Donkey: Where can I ride a bike?

Humble: Yes. I know what they said. Practice makes perfect.

Tingle: I think that's right. Maybe we can imagine.

Boop boop you stupid people?

After all, spending a lot of time is not a bad thing. This is how you prepare for the exam.

my friend

Mangal: I know you. Believe that you can do anything.

Tangle: What do you think? Well, maybe we should try.

Dan: Yeah, I'll try again today.

* Try to sink the bike and get back on the bike.

All boys

* The boy returns to the monkey house

Don't worry about missing games again. I know it's hard.

Thank you Miguel

Contact details: Welcome.

* Start all over again. *

* Continue until everyone understands that everything will be fine if they trust him. Everyone wants the best and everyone wins in the end.

* Kubka jumps into the waves, one foot down at a time.

Dangal: Ah! It will happen!

Exchange

* The donkey sits well on the chain and moves well.

Thanks: *sigh* baby! comparison! I ride a motorbike!

Link: Good luck and thanks!

*Run, Build, Catch Monkeys*

Friend: Push! Sound

Aunt Lee: So young!

He was hit by a motorcycle.

Tonka. This is good: I would like to think that integration solves this problem.

Zentel: Thanks for helping us get to know each other.

Date: c.

*shoots but misses*

Book: Is Beep Beep Beep Chip Normal?

Milan: Yes, I can help you.

• Help your child turn off the lights.

Sponsor: Name: Name

Discussion: Yes, it's good to try something new. Trying new things is hard, but eventually it is possible. When you have a problem, think calmly and believe in yourself. Thank you for using our service. *Back pain:

Link (Credits):

@friendlyfox34 - Learn to be friendly (The original Learning with Mingle).

Google - has created the best translator in the world (Creating the best worst translation tool in the world).

The Coder Cat - I use the default configuration (Making Bad Translator, the programme I used for this).

Yes, I like the smell (And, of course, me - Bringing this crap to life).

#learning with mingle and friends

[jantzenvrylindegaard]

Report Writing 101

Grab Typically the Reader's Attention and KEEP IT! This is definitely what a press release should carry out. The basic purpose of this kind involving publication is to get the reports around and in order to get it noticed. This means using a rather specific approach of writing, however applying some creativity and novelty to be able to the story. If the story is typically the same as some other in the media at the time then is actually old and for that reason non-news.

Now this might seem easy to just write an eye catching headline and group it full involving sensationalist scandal and information, but generally there is one problem with that and really the audience. A person see, press lets out tend to be read, in addition to only read, by simply journalists. These journalists then take their particular 'favourite' or almost all news-worthy publications and report them on their own in whatever press format they operate in. So there they are. You're ultimately creating to catch the eye of a writer and the people are incredibly dismissive. This particular is why Press Release headlines will be the part regarding the release which usually you should become spending 60-70% associated with your time creating. Try not in order to use puns as the less-favored everyday newspapers do and naturally try not in order to make it could be seen as sales copy.

Unnecessary repetition in Press Launching headlines is OKAY, however the best way to get onto a winner is definitely to have a very history that IS news. Sometimes that's simply not possible but if you're announcing the particular launch of an unique company, or an unusual event then draw inside into it. If they've asked you in order to write a report for them with zero story then ask when there are any blameless secrets or potential news-worthy events which you can use.

Before you commence writing a Press Release, check out and about some samples. Likely to soon find that will there's an universal layout with the organization and contact details in the top departed from the page, the particular phrase 'FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE' or 'EMBARGOED FOR [date]' on the particular top right (this basically informs the reader of when the particular news is relevant). Following this comes the particular release, with a bold, centered headline plus centered subheading. A person can capitalize each word but time spent and can appear unprofessional. After this specific comes the particular launch; begin with the town, country and day, followed by a colon.

The release itself should also consider a rather certain form. If possible do not mention the particular company in question right up until the second or perhaps third paragraph. The initial should be outlining the whole release, nevertheless leaving out the explanatory information which often comes in the next paragraphs. Remember that when the journalist offers check out this far in that case you're in together with a big opportunity and your 1st paragraph is regarding paramount importance. Dive right in and even announce the news, for instance:

"Yahoo earnings is predicted shed this week while google search rivals observe their grand beginning in Frankfurt, Indonesia. The company claim in order to be bringing users bigger more enhanced possibilities for peer to peer and social networking than ever thought possible ahead of. "

Okay so the company might not really have an area on Yahoo, but whose to state it's not a chance? more info 's certainly no lie and you have got the journalist believing the firm is a very successful a single. From this level the next paragraph should include some more details (such as exactly just how they're enhancing document sharing etc . ) and together with a quote around halfway through. Quotes are hundred times better if they're broken up. Consequently rather than:

"In today's market social network and file posting are paramount. Each of our company understands precisely what young people are looking for and we can certainly offer those activities through each and each search" says company CEO Stephen Roswell.

You need to say:

"In today's market social networking and document sharing are paramount" says company CEO Stephen Roswell, "Our company understands exactly what young people are looking for and can offer these things from each and every and every search".

Sounds much much better, right?

Another passage should include several company information for example how long they've been running, no matter if they're a merger, how many offices they have, exactly what areas the employees specialise in etc . Remember to always keep this short and only choose the most interesting/impressive parts. Journalists don't need to know the business founder's favorite flavour of soup.

Lastly comes the simply spoken, concluding paragraph (better known as typically the boilerplate). This essentially explains everything which been said in all of press release nevertheless in a couple of sentences. It can, if you want, be a re-write with the introducing paragraph, but try in addition to end with an exciting point for the audience to ponder. End with '###' based, to signify the particular end of typically the release. After this particular, on the remaining, there should be the business name using the country beneath it and then centered the web page URL if presently there is one.

Associated with course, writing good quality Press Releases will get easier with time and practice. Mine certainly aren't ideal yet but My partner and i enjoy the criticisms and feedback We get from clients (be prepared regarding a LOT in addition to don't be offended! ). The almost all important thing to keep in mind when writing the Press Release will be the audience who you're writing with regard to and how to win points with them.

#African Safari #click here #more info #here #read more #website #get more info #check here

[reidingmelodies]

Finders Keepers

A/N:  It’s been ages since I’ve written anything, so I figured it was about time I got back into it!  Hope you enjoy, any feedback is appreciated :) Warnings: None Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7K

“What’s wrong with you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan questioned as Spencer rushed into the BAU Tuesday morning, fingers threading through his curls and a look of pure agitation gracing his features.  As if he didn’t hear the question directed towards him, Spencer continued to storm through the room, nearly stumbling into Morgan in his quest to reach his desk.

Pupils dilating, Morgan looked towards JJ who had taken stock of the scene from her chair, brows already furrowed and legs moving to stand and head towards her fellow colleague.

Taking the lead, JJ swiftly headed to Spencer’s side, moving to place a hand on his shoulder before thinking better of it and placing both hands on the edge of his desk instead, Mama Bear instincts dialed all the way up.  “Everything okay, Spence?  You seem annoyed.”  

Morgan scoffed before thinking better of it, “I’d say he’s a bit more than annoyed, JJ”.  No sooner than the words had left his mouth he was given a swift elbow in his side from JJ and an eye roll from Spencer and all that was left for Morgan to do was raise his hands in defeat.

Sighing, Spencer turned back to his desk before mumbling a response back to them, “I’m fine, guys.  I think I lost my copy of War and Peace on the Metro this morning.  It was in my bag when I left my place, it must have fallen out when I was trying to grab my umbrella.  I thought maybe I just forgot and left it here, but apparently not”.

“You and I both know you don’t forget anything, Pretty Boy,” Morgan chimed in, visibly less tense now that he knew there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Actually Morgan that’s not entirely true.  I have an eidetic memory which means-”

“There’s the Reid we all know and love,” JJ chuckled, heading back to her desk to get ready for the day ahead of them.  Morgan followed, leaving the bullpen in search of Garcia and Spencer sighed, trying to move past the fact that one of his favorite books was no longer in his possession.  Logically, he knew he could buy a replacement copy after work, but deep down he knew it wasn’t the same.

The words dancing across the page would be the same ones that brought him entertainment and the comfort found in familiarity throughout his life, but the book within his hands wouldn’t hold the same nostalgic memories.  He wouldn’t look down at the tattered cover and reminisce on his first jet ride with the BAU, thinking back on how he brushed his fingers against the book’s familiar spine while trying to calm his stomach filled with nervous jitters at the prospect of working with unfamiliar people.  He wouldn’t look at the dog-eared pages and remember how the words on those exact pages brought him comfort on nights he would escape to his bedroom and try to leave memories of aggressive classmates and whispering peers behind.  

Any thought of potentially buying a new copy of the book after the workday was dispelled though as Garcia called everyone into the conference room to discuss a pending case in Phoenix, no sooner followed by a “wheels up in thirty” announcement from Hotch.  Grabbing his go-bag and leaving the bullpen, Spencer filled his head with thoughts of the case, half of his brain racing ahead to connect victimology and significant locations while the other half was stuck repeating a never-ending mantra of “it’s just a book” in the back of his mind.

***

As Spencer was boarding a jet to head 468 miles north, Y/N was playing with a loose thread on her sweater, thinking about the long day of work ahead of her.  Breaking her trance, she looked up and instead glanced up at the now empty row of seats in front of her.  Her brows furrowed as she saw a book stuck in the crack between the far left seat cushion and the back of the chair, and before she knew it her curiosity overtook her.  Y/N found herself standing from the seat, travel mug and bag in tow, before reaching for the dictionary-like book that was calling to her.  The title War and Peace glared back at her, and a quick turn of the cover revealed faded words written in blue ink proclaiming that the book was the “Property of Spencer Reid”.   With the announcement of her stop blaring over the loudspeaker and the weight of someone else’s book in their hand, Y/N made a split second decision to stuff the book into her bag, leaving the Metro with not only thoughts of the upcoming workday but visions of whom the mysterious Spencer Reid could be.

The workday passed by slowly, each passing second filled with the overwhelming desire to search for Spencer Reid on Google.  By the time Y/N was on the Metro ride home, any and all motivation to search for the book’s rightful owner went out the door as her irritation grew with the rising heat of the increasingly packed subway car.  Needing a distraction, her hand reached into her bag, initially moving for her cell phone but making a last second switch as her hand brushed the spine of the book.  May as well spend my time doing something productive, she thought as she gently pulled the book out of it’s temporary home.  With a final sigh, she turned to the first page and began to read.

As Y/N was tearing through the pages of War and Peace at an alarmingly quicker rate than she anticipated that night, Spencer was filling out a WMTA lost and found form in the hopes that someone had the decency to return his book.  Knowing his luck, he assumed it was long gone and in the trash somewhere, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to make one last ditch effort at finding it.  Groaning, Spencer called it a night and went to bed, silently vowing to find his book the second he stepped foot off the BAU jet again.        

***

Six days later the BAU team landed in Quantico, making plans to head to a bar for a drink before a well deserved day off.  As designated drivers were assigned and phone calls home were made Spencer gathered his things, making a beeline to the door in the hopes of reaching the WMTA’s designated lost and found area before it closed for the night.  He was a foot away from the door before a soft hand grasped his wrist, immediately stopping him in his tracks.

“Skipping out on the bar tonight, Reid?” Emily questioned, head tilted as she noticed how frazzled her friend was.

“I’m just gonna go home and watch a bit of Dr.Who” Spencer began, desperately trying to think of something that would let him out the door without further questions.  “Speaking of Dr. Who, did you know that it was originally created to be an educational show for kids?  It’s actually really interesting-”

“Say no more, Dr. Reid,” Emily laughed, letting go of his wrist and heading back towards the others, “enjoy your night”.  Spencer tightly smiled, leaving the bullpen and making his way to downtown DC in search of his book.  An hour later and he wasn’t any closer to finding his book, ultimately giving up and heading to the bookstore to buy himself another copy.

It was at that same time JJ and Derek found themselves hysterically laughing at a corner booth in the bar, thinking about how Spencer probably missed out on meeting the love of his life that night- a woman sitting in the booth directly across from them, War and Peace open on the table in front of her and a pen and highlighter busy at work marking up post its that were being meticulously placed on the book’s pages.

***

A month and a half went by and Spencer had officially given up hope on finding his lost book.  In the six weeks since he had last seen it he refrained from reading his new copy, not willing to give up the small amount of hope he had that he would be reunited with his original book.  That evening though, as the Metro had yet another delay and the subway car continued to get hotter and hotter, he figured there was no better time than the present and pulled out his new copy of War and Peace.  A few pages in, a sudden jolt of the car made him glance up and almost immediately he locked eyes with the woman across from him.  In the span of ten seconds, his thoughts ranged from she’s beautiful to hold on- she’s holding my book and before his legs fully alerted his brain what was happening he found himself on his feet and sitting in the empty seat directly next to her.

As Spencer’s brain began to register just how bad of an idea it was to sit next to a stranger as abruptly as he just did, the woman next to him gripped her bag slightly tighter, tilting her head to the side as she peaked a look at the man next to her.

Her mouth opened to speak, but before she could do so Spencer interrupted her, desperately trying to save himself from any embarrassment her words could bring.

“That’s my book,” he bluntly stated, mentally hitting himself as he watched her adorably confused features morph into a look of defense.

“No.. that’s your book,” she pointed down to his lap, where his new copy of War and Peace was resting between his palms.

“No it’s not- well, it is but it isn’t really?” Spencer tried to explain, his face growing more and more red with each word that left his mouth.

“So it’s your book, but not your book?” She questioned, lips curling up into a slight smile as she witnessed the sweet agitation of the man in front of her.

“Yes!  I lost my book on the metro almost two months ago.  This is just my replacement copy, and I don’t know how I know, but I’m positive the book in your hands right now is the one that I lost.”  Spencer finished his spiel, watching as the woman’s eyes widened in realization and her mouth formed an “o” shape.

“You’re Spencer Reid?” she asked, and now it was his turn to play the part of the confused companion.

“I- yes? But, how do you know my name?” As soon as the question left his mouth the image of the title page of his book filled his head and all too soon he was practically yelling with joy in the poor woman’s face.  “Wait, that is my book then!  Does it say Property of Spencer Reid on the cover page?”

The woman laughed, and Spencer watched as any traces of tension left her body.  “I’m so sorry!  I found it on the Metro on my way to work, and I meant to look you up- not in a creepy way,” she continued, growing more flustered with each passing second.  “I was gonna try and find you to return it but then I started reading it and I liked it more than I thought I would and I just,” She stooped, taking a breath and giving him the most adorable set of puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen.  “I’m just really sorry, I shouldn’t have held onto it as long as I did”.  She finished, and held the book up, holding it out towards Spencer’s hands.  “I think this belongs to you”.

“It’s not a problem at all, I promise,” Spencer reassured her with a warm smile on his face, “thanks for keeping it safe”.  Something about her filled his stomach with joy, and as he looked at her he saw a similar smile mirrored back at him.  It was at that moment he knew he would do anything to keep that look of happiness on her face, stranger or not.  “You know what,” he continued, “you should keep it- finders keepers and all that”.

Y/N laughed in disbelief, immediately shaking her head and pushing the book closer to its rightful owner.  “It’s bad enough I’ve had it this long,” she admitted.  “It belongs with you”.

“At least take this one then?”  Spencer’s brain continued to be a few steps ahead of him, and before he knew it he was taking the book in the stranger’s outstretched hands and placing his new copy in her grasp.  “It looks like you still have a hundred pages or so left and I wouldn’t want to keep you from finishing it.  Besides, I definitely don’t need two copies”.

The woman smiled and gave him an enthusiastic nod, and Spencer couldn’t help but think he just made the best decision of his life.  The speaker above them announced the next stop, and with a sudden jump she left her seat, discarding the new book into her bag and turning towards Spencer on her way to the door.  “Thanks, Spencer!” she exclaimed, “maybe I’ll see you around sometime”.  Another smile was sent his way, and before he earned up the nerve to ask for her name she was gone, disappearing into a growing crowd of commuters desperate to get back to the comfort of their homes and begin the weekend ahead.

***

The following morning, Spencer found himself in his living room with a mug of coffee in his hand, completely lost in his thoughts.  He was trying to calculate the chances of seeing the mystery woman again, considering it took six weeks after losing his book to see her for the first time at all.  

He groaned, inwardly cursing himself for his lack of courage the day before and wishing he at least had a name to match to the face that wouldn’t leave his mind.  As the coffee cooled, he found his gaze wandering to the coffee table where he had laid the book and his satchel the previous night.  With a sigh, Spencer picked up the book only to notice a bright orange post-it sticking out of one of the pages.

“The strongest of all warriors are these two- time and patience” was written in loopy writing, highlighted in yellow with exactly twelve exclamation points in red ink under it.  He was a man of science, but he couldn’t help but feel as though finding one of his favorite quotes from the novel staring up at him was a sign.

As he continued to skim the pages, he found note after note filled with quotes, reactions, and doodles and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration for the stranger who put them all there.  It was a book that held countless memories for Spencer, but already he could tell that this was going to be his ultimate favorite.  

Backtracking to the front page, Spencer saw his familiar scrawl had been slightly covered by a light blue post it note.  “If this book gets lost a second time I don’t want to make the same mistake as the first guy… please call Y/N at-” Spencer laughed, immediately grabbing his phone to dial the number before he has time to talk himself out of it.

As the phone began to ring, he thought about how he couldn’t picture her name being anything else.  It was as beautiful as she was, and he longed to properly meet the woman who managed to get his heart racing with just a few post-it notes.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end of his phone answered, and Spencer could immediately tell it was the same woman from the subway.

“Hi, is this Y/N?” he began, fingers nervously twiddling together.  At her hum of acknowledgement he continues, “This is Spencer, the guy who’s book you had?  I was just looking through the post-its you left behind and I love the perspective you have on the book.  Plus, it was so nice of you to even hold onto it in the first place so I was wondering if you’d wanna get coffee, maybe?  So I can say thank you for everything and talk about the book with you?”

The opposite end of the phone was silent and Spencer’s face grew red, his hands moving to his hair because how could he possibly think she wanted to meet him, she didn’t even know him and-

“I was hoping you’d find that post-it note,” she giggled, and with the sound all of Spencer’s worries completely washed away.  “Absolutely”.

***

Link to join my taglist ♡

#Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #ash writes

[scuttle-buttle]

Chapter 11

WC: 2077

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: full on angst, discussions of emotional trauma, mild depictions of blood/gore, mentions of self h*rm & su*cide, mentions of child abuse, discussions of physical disabilities, institutionalization, some dialogue & plot canon to TV show, hurt/comfort

🧠

The rest of the conference went by much like the first day did. Both you and Laszlo bought a few books for your collections. An ease had settled over your conversations with the help of Sara and John's presence; you spoke more freely with each other. You tell yourself it is not because he's going soft on you or vice versa, but rather that you have found yourself in this imaginary bubble where you happen to get on well. It's inevitable that it will pop once you’re back at school and Laszlo will revert back to his usual callous state.

Laszlo. It still felt odd to think of him like that, rather than by his title. You couldn't lie, it gave you a sort of thrill. Even in your dreams you had only called him by his honorific. Thankfully you didn't have another dream after Friday. You couldn't escape the feeling that you'd said something incriminating in front of the man in question. So you chose to pretend it didn't happen.

Monday morning came and you headed to the train station. Once again he had secured a private cabin for the journey. This time you came prepared with a book since you had yet to replace your broken phone.

"Thank you again for inviting me to this, I really enjoyed myself. It was really nice of the department to foot my travel expenses, the hotel was really fancy. I may have helped myself to a mini-bottle or two," you joked.

"There is no need to worry about the department's finances; they were not involved."

You pause. He paid for you? Laszlo did say he would take care of the arrangements; but the four-star hotel, the private compartment train tickets, the admission to the conference, and every meal? Shit, that must have been a fortune, hundreds of dollars at least.

You don't know what to say, so you settle for an awkward "oh." A moment passes before you add "I appreciate that, um, I can pay you back. Might take some time but I can."

The professor is flippant in his reply. "There is no need, it was well spent for the research and knowledge acquired." He opens his book signaling the conversation is over.

You lick your lips. Fine then, I'll just consider it payment for emotional suffering and damages of the last eight weeks.

The first few hours of the journey were spent reading one of the new books you picked up at the convention. Occasionally you would peek over the pages at the professor. He was engrossed in his own selection; sometimes he would pause to write down a thought.

Around the seventh hour of your journey you had given up on reading anymore in favor of looking at the fields outside. The silence was comforting.

Laszlo had trouble concentrating on the book in his hand. He saw you as a conundrum. One minute you could be sociable and teasing with your comments, then next you were biting at his throat with your quick wit and fierce ideals. He decides that he wants to know what made you into who you are today. Now is as good a time as any.

His eyes on you cause a tingle up your spine but you ignore it. Laszlo breaks the silence; "may I ask a personal question?"

"You just did," you answer, still peering out of the large window. He huffed once, amused. At his following silence you face him. You raise your eyebrows to signal him to go on with his question. Curiosity grows at the thought of what he intends to ask.

"Twice now you have made implications of a traumatic past," he begins.

Bubble popped.

Interrupting, you snark "is this the part where you psychoanalyze me, doc? Because trust me, I've been through enough of that." You pick at the lint on your jeans.

Laszlo tries to choose his words more carefully the next time he speaks. "What I mean to say is, the first afternoon in the classroom where you defended that student you implied you had been witness to a trauma. You then displayed signs of anger and embarrassment before leaving prematurely. Yesterday you mentioned having entered a psychiatric facility. As an alienist I can't help but find myself curious about your experiences."

You slide your eyes to meet his from across the cabin. Your face is devoid of any emotion. "We all have our demons. Even you can't argue with that."

Your jaw clenches. Everyone had warned you. They all said he would try to worm his way into your head to figure you out. All the reviews, the gossip, everything. It was a big fat 'I told you so'. You give a pitiful laugh at the situation. "You know, everyone told me that you would pull this stunt."

He seems confused by your statement. "And what is that?"

"That you'd get inside my head and try to figure me all out or whatever. You already know I googled you beforehand, what everyone says about your methods. By now I assume you've done a little research yourself. I promise you there is nothing exciting here," you scoff and point to yourself.

"You would be correct in your assumption." You chew at your cheek as he starts. "I do know some of what happened in your past. Yet I also know that society likes to dilute the truth into something either more palatable, more entertaining, for people to consume greedily. What I want to know is what you have faced. How you have not allowed the experience to overcome you so much so that your humanity is erased like the characters I lecture on."

Eyes closing of their own volition you are thrown back in time to that night so many years ago. You didn't talk about it anymore. Bitsy knew of course, but that was the extent.

Laszlo waits. He knows this is likely to push you over the edge if your history with him means anything. Quite frankly, anyone would be tossed to their limit at his interrogation had they gone through what you had. John always told him that he needed to work on his bedside manner; that he had a habit of coming on too strong in his pursuit of learning the intricacies of the human mind. But your earlier comment about being sent to a so-called 'nuthouse' rubbed him the wrong way. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He needed to know. He needed to understand.

Laszlo can imagine the reprimand that he would receive from John and Sara for this. Just as he considers apologizing for his intrusion you open your eyes.

"She was fine. None of us suspected anything was wrong. I came home from having dinner with some… boy, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. She- she must have started over the sink and moved to sit on the side of the tub. She was hunched inside it when I got the door open. I pulled her out. Blood was… everywhere." Your voice is clinical as you explain.

"After, I shut down. So I checked myself into a psych ward a few days later when I couldn't get the feel of her blood off my hands. It's slippery, you know. And it smells. You wouldn't think so but it does." You clear your throat. "I did the therapy, took the meds they prescribed, all the standard treatments. Later I started watching true crime documentaries. I'd heard about exposure therapy so I figured the more I saw the gore, the less the image of my dead roommate would bother me. And it did help. The nightmares stopped after a while, I came back to school. I was better, just not the same.” You had watched the passing landscape as you explained. Turning to face him you speak again. “That's why those pictures didn't bother me. They weren't anything I hadn't seen before."

He contemplates you. The discovery and subsequent loss of your friend in this manner would no doubt cause lingering effects to your psyche. A stain that would forever remind you. "I offer my sincerest condolences. I do not presume to know what that would be like to experience, but I am glad you sought help afterwards. To make the choice to alleviate yourself of your own suffering where possible.”

As he says this he realizes that your anger towards the idea of being enslaved to unconscious impulse makes perfect sense. It explains why you focused so much energy on defending your belief in free will. That you have the power to choose how you carry your joy, your anger, your healing. It reminds him of how he held onto his own guilt and hurt, ignoring how it festered within him for so long. He feels as though he needs to share a piece of himself with you.

“I played piano as a child, quite well too. My mother hoped I would someday make a career of it. I vividly remember playing Mozart’s Concerto for Piano No. 20 in D Minor at a holiday party when I was seven years old. It was my favorite to play.... It requires two hands." You finally look at him. "My father...” He pauses to gather himself.

Now it is the doctor that cannot meet your eyes. As you listen you feel your confusion grow. How could he have been a talented pianist if he only had full use of his left hand? Unless..., the realization dawns on you just as he continues, his words slow.

“My father had two sides. One loving and the other brutal, the two often coexisting. It was something as trivial as putting me to bed, I recall... A game of tug of war. We were laughing…” He inhales a sharp breath. Already you can feel the tears begin to blur your vision. “I don't remember if he was drunk or if I said something that offended him. He must have pulled my arm behind my back.” Laszlo exhales shakily. “In small children, fractures can often affect…” he trails off, unable to finish. You can hear how he barely holds himself together.

Your heart aches for the broken man that sits in front of you. He never let on how much his arm bothered him, at least not within your presence. Suddenly you don’t see him as this rude, insufferable, obsessive man, but instead as someone that spends his life trying to protect himself. He projects his own anger and hurt so that he may, just for a minute, forget about his own demons. He wants to help others even when he feels he cannot bear to help himself.

But unlike you, he has to live with the physical reminder of his past every day of his life.

You stand and move to sit on his right side. Before allowing yourself to think too much of your actions, you place your hand atop his own, curling your fingers around his palm and squeezing delicately. You don’t bother wiping away the tears on your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Laszlo;” the whisper is barely heard above the sound of the train. A second passes where you fear you have overstepped and offended him by touching the affected limb. When his thumb tightens against the backs of your fingers you know he is not. He holds you in place.

“You asked me how I kept my humanity. How does anyone really? We learn to take what we get and we carry it in a bag. Sometimes you have to drag the damn thing behind you. But eventually the weight gets less and less if you allow yourself to move forward, even if it’s still there with you all the time. I dealt with what happened years ago and it does still haunt me. It’s easier now than it was, but… I- I suppose I’ve learned from you too. Sitting in those lectures and hearing you talk. We can either let it haunt us for the rest of our lives… or we can accept it… and use the memory of our pain to help ourselves and others.”

“I’m not sure the choice is entirely in our hands.” His tone is mournful.

You turn to smile at him through your tears. His own eyes are bloodshot. “I disagree. If it weren’t, if we didn’t have the freedom to choose that, we’d all be murderers.”

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams

#the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler daniel bruhl #scuttle-buttle #tw self harm #tw suicude #tw child abuse

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

The One Where Wilford asks Dark about a Fanfic Trope

Wilford’s been reading too many fan fictions. Then he told me this very silly idea about asking questions about a common trope in said fics and wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it. 

(Sorry.)

Word count: 1,010

-

As the resident ‘fourth wall breaker’, one of Wilford’s hobbies was to sneakily check the fandom and their works inspired by the egos and their world. On days when technology worked in his favour without causing major disruption for everyone else (who could forget the time that he skipped a Youtube ad and broke the coffee machine?), he would snoop around the various websites. He would coo over fan art, get immersed in fan theories, and lose track of time reading fan fiction. All in all, it was great to see what the fans were doing when there was nothing new in ‘canon’ to work with.

(Oh, the ships! The fluff! The angst! The crack! It all made his little heart flutter. How creative their fans were!!)

One such day had Wilford spending a free day catching up on the fandom works. He was supposed to be in the studio, but all the Jims were called away for a ‘family emergency’; while Bim worked on his podcast. Not that Wilford minded. It was good they all knew work wasn’t the most important thing! Instead, he lounged on the sofa, flipping from drabbles to headcanons to stories. What a great way to spend the day… Until something caught his attention.

-

“Hey, Dark?” 

“Yes?” The entity didn’t look up from his laptop, nor did he stop typing.

“Why are ya workin’ in an office?”

“It’s a rented office space. Cheaper and more efficient than renting a giant house like you originally wanted. This is more beneficial given that a large majority of this ‘company’ is dedicated to matters in the entertainment industry and they require a large space to rehearse and perform.”

“Ah. Okay.” Wilford dropped the topic for several seconds until… “Hey, Dark?”

“What?”

“Whaddya mean th’ ‘majority’ is fer th’ entertainment industry?”

“The eclectic group that the ‘egos’ consist of have a variety of careers. Since a lot of them focus on the production of entertainment features - such as news, chat shows and game shows - it was the most reasonable solution to focus efforts there so that there is a sense of productivity amongst the entire group, even if the target audience is small.”

“Huh… But ya hate bein’ involved with shows.”

“I know that, Will.”

“Like, ta th’ point where ya accept people will call ya ‘Dark’ instead of ‘Damien’.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Well,” Wilford wriggled from his position on the sofa to peer at Dark. True to many of the stories he had been reading, Dark sat in a plush office chair behind a large desk, with a laptop in front of him and various folders and paper surrounding that. “Yer here. All th’ fans know that, an’ everyone punishes ya fer bein’ here by makin’ ya do borin’ paperwork. Why’s that?”

“You do realise that there are timeline variants of all of us, and what I do isn’t a staple for what others do, correct?” Wilford nodded in response. “So why does it matter?”

“Because yer my friend. I don’t want ya sufferin’ with paperwork if ya don’t wanna be here.”  Dark rolled his eyes, but it appeared the sentiment was appreciated. His eyes dropped to the laptop screen so he could save his work and shut the lid. Then, at last, Wilford had his full attention.

“I’m normally cast in the role of ‘working in an office’ because fans normally don’t know what to do with me in a work-related setting. They saw our scene in Markiplier TV where I sat at the head of the boardroom table, noticed that my appearances had no direct involvement with any actual productions and were instead me directly interacting with them with no interference; and thus concluded that I must while away my hours behind a desk with generic paperwork. For all they know, these are pages with endless lorem ipsum blurbs pasted on them. But since most fans don’t know much about office work beyond what they’ve seen on TV, it passes with little complaint.”

“That… Really sucks. I’m sorry that’s yer fate. But, uh… What are ya doin’?” Wilford tumbled off the sofa to approach the desk and lift one of the pages. Compared to the glorious fanfics, it was written in a tiny typeface with big words that scrambled his head.

“Again, what I do career-wise as a ‘Darkiplier’ doesn’t match what others may do, but I am a qualified lawyer by trade. I’ve had to shift my focus to working in the world of a business rather than helping individual clients. In brief, I’m the main reason that the studio hasn’t been sued out of existence by making sure every project is legally sensible. I also write up and maintain the contracts of those that work here who aren’t egos, as well as offer legal advice beyond what Google or Bing might suggest from their search systems. I’ve had to also take a side-step into accounting and finance to make sure that people get paid.”

“... That sounds like a lotta work.”

“Which is precisely why I deal with the brunt of it and call you in when I know how best to explain it. We’re both in charge as two of the ‘mascots’ of Mark’s channel. The ‘heart and soul’, if you will.” To Wilford’s surprise, a coy smirk appeared on Dark’s lips. “Our studio isn’t as disastrous as you think. I actually have quite a large amount of free time. I mainly stay here to keep away from the chaos. Did you know I paint?”

“Ya what?” Curiosity piqued, Wiford planted his hands on the table and stretched forward. “Ya paint? What do ya do?”

Dark opened his laptop again and resumed typing.

“Hey. Damien. I wanna know ‘bout yer paintin’!”

No answer.

“C’moooonnnn, pleeaaaase?” 

Dark looked up with a sigh.

“I’m afraid my hands are tied. There simply aren’t enough fan fictions and headcanons to allow me to elaborate.” There was a glint of mischief in his eyes as he went back to work, ignoring Wilford’s pleas to hear more.

#writersofmark #Wilford Warfstache #Darkiplier #markiplier fanfiction #breaking the fourth wall #(he literally wouldn't leave me alone until I did this) #Rose Petals (Wilford) #Cracked Mirror (Dark) #(read-more is for tidiness! :D )

[alfredosauce50]

You’re gonna go far, kid [Punk! England x reader]

Synopsis: Ever since coming to England to study, you haven’t had the time to do what made you come in the first place--tourism! The only friend you have is an exchange student from Russia, Ivan, so why not kill two birds with one stone? He schedules a little playdate with Arthur, a local, so he can show you around the hottest spots in London. You two immediately hit it off. Ivan is quick to notice his interest in you, so he starts teasing the poor man and making things hard for him. Camden is the last destination, and there’s no saying when he’ll ever see you again. Will he be able to get over himself and ask you out before the night ends?  Note: Attractions are italicized and have a link to a picture. Wordcount: 4,641 The reader is referred to as she/her.

This was the day you had been dreading, and yet, looking forward to. The first part was easy to explain. Picking up your hot latte, you set it down after a quick sip. You didn’t even have time to enjoy it. Not when you were typing away at your keyboard like a speed demon. You promised your friend you would finish your assignment before today’s meet-up, but your procrastination habits were a bitch. Nevertheless, you were eager to uphold your side of the deal, even if it meant stressing your hair out to get it done. 

So long as he didn’t show up before you were done, right? 

After burning your tongue for the second time that morning, you let out a small groan at the sting you felt but gasped at what you saw outside the window. It was a sound made from genuine terror--rather than the quiet streets of London at seven AM, you spotted a man pressing his face right up to the glass. And he was staring at you, menacingly. 

Anybody would’ve been creeped out by the sight, but you knew the guy. “Aha--Ivan! Hey! Morning?” You began rather awkwardly. 

He waved in response, and his glower melted away in exchange for a childlike smile. “Dobroye utro, (F/N)! I hope that’s not your assignment you’re doing.” He hummed, placing two hands on the glass to peer at your screen from outside. Oh shit. Glancing briefly at said screen, you turned it away before clicking the upload button. 

“Of course not.” You grinned, shutting your laptop immediately after. “I was just... Surfing the net. Checking Instagram. You know?”

“Is that so? I’m gonna check.” He made his way inside. And in no time, he was looming over your shoulder to start browsing through your internet history. You, on the other hand, were sweating balls. 

“You’re so funny, (F/N). Who checks Instagram on their computer?”

It seemed like only yesterday he was the oblivious exchange student from Russia who had no concept of social media. He had been a country bumpkin through and through, but a few semesters after befriending you, your influence rubbed off on him. Even you had no idea what went through your head when decided to talk to him, the intimidating new kid who spoke broken English, but there was no turning back now. He was attached to you by the hip and picked up on your habits faster than you could deal. 

He only became more of a menace when he discovered Twitter.

A displeased expression contorted at his expression when he saw that there was no evidence of you ‘surfing the net’. Google Docs couldn’t possibly count, after all.  “... Hm... Apparently, not you. Why didn’t you finish this yesterday, sunflower? Remember our promise?” 

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I passed out last night. But hey, I technically finished it before you came, didn’t I?” 

He craned his head from side to side in thought. “Maybe. But if you hadn’t, you know what that means.” Ivan coiled his arms around your neck and a sickeningly sweet smile curled up at his lips. 

“You will come with me to Moscow for Christmas!” 

A chill ran down your spine at the thought. Going to Russia was bad enough. But during Winter? You were never good with the cold. If you could barely handle London, Moscow was out of the question. “Oh God, please no.” He nodded giddily. “I’m never going to Russia. Maybe I’d consider it during Summer, but--anyway, that’s not the point here! I didn’t break any promises so I won’t be turning into a popsicle this year. Got that?” 

He pouted. “Aw...” 

“You damn sadist.” 

“Hehe.” 

“I wonder how you even became friends with him. Arthur, was it? Poor dude.” You mumbled, but he didn’t look all too offended. 

He tapped his chin and hummed. “Now that you mention it.” Then, he let out a short laugh. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say it was a happy little accident.”

“Unfortunate.” 

“But don’t worry! I don’t plan on bothering you as much as him today.” Ivan clarified, earning a slow nod from you. Phew. The clock was inching closer to eight and you weren’t much of a morning person, so hearing that was like music to your ears. “That’s why I wanted you to finish your work yesterday. I want him to be the only one making mistakes! It’s interesting to see him mess up and get embarrassed.” 

You had to wonder if he was using ‘interesting’ as a synonym for fun because he was clapping. “... Ivan, you really are a sadist.” 

The two of you stayed in that café for another hour or so, ordering some breakfast during your stay. Once the table was cleared and the bill was paid, you and he caught a bus to the London eye. You could marvel at the iconic ferris wheel for a few minutes as you walked up to the London aquarium next to it, your first stop. The building was huge to start with, and it didn’t look like they’d be storing fish in there considering how fancy it was. But wasn’t everything in England fancy? 

“He should be waiting in the front. Look for a short grouchy man with a bad taste in fashion.” You shot him a weird look, beckoning him to elaborate. 

“... And blonde hair.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll try my best.” Glancing around the sea of people filled with tourists, couples, and families, you skimmed the crowd for someone who fitted the description--but to no avail. It was only when they walked up to you both did you find the guy. He had short and choppy blonde hair that framed a heart-shaped face, and under his fringe was a pair of lime green eyes staring on with a neutral expression. And did Ivan say he had bad taste?

You couldn’t agree. Yes, his charcoal pants were ripped and he had a bandana tied around his neck with a Union Jack on it. But he still had a kind of style you liked. Under his black leather jacket was a gray shirt, and combined with the piercings in his right ear, you couldn’t help admiring him for a second. 

“Arthur! I was wondering if you were trampled because we couldn’t find you.” Ivan began, causing the said man to furrow his brows. And boy, were they thick. 

“You just arrived, so don’t start now you twat.” He grumbled. Ivan never teased you for your height, even when you were a little shorter than the Brit. He always found it cute, but you figured it was only because you didn’t care. The Russian always found amusement in poking fun at others, after all. “Anywho, I’m glad I won’t be spending the whole day alone with you.” 

Turning to you with a soft smile this time, he held out a hand for you to shake. “Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland.” 

You shook it, but not without a laugh. It hadn’t even been a minute since meeting him, and his personality seemed to clash violently with his appearance. He sounded so prim and proper, but his outfit screamed punk rock. 

“(L/N). (F/N) (L/N).” 

He released you from his grip. Placing his hands on his hips with an accusing stare, he felt a grin upturn his lips. “Are you copying me, (F/N)?” 

“I don’t know. Do all British people introduce themselves like James Bond?” 

Arthur clicked his tongue. “... Not all of them. Just a force of habit.” 

“Mhm. Right, right. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arthur. I’m a student here too and I could only imagine how busy it gets for you--so thanks for coming out today!” He didn’t respond to those comments and simply nodded. 

Ivan stayed quiet in the back, but he was probably reading the atmosphere like he always did when he didn’t speak. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde turned on his heel and closed his eyes. “As much as I’d like to stay out here and chat, we can do that in the aquarium. Wouldn’t wanna waste our tickets, do we?” 

While the group of three wandered slowly through the establishment, Ivan lingered in the background while you walked in the front with the Brit. For the first ten minutes, you’d look at him expectantly, gesturing for him to join in the conversation. As the mutual, wasn’t he supposed to be the icebreaker? He’d shake his head every time, offering you a smile as if to say, go and make some friends. But soon, this brief spell of irritation morphed into gratitude.

“I’ve been here probably a hundred times, so don’t take it personally when I don’t seem as excited as you.” Turning to him to watch his face as he spoke--which was filtered through a bluish tinge from the Antarctic setting-- you only caught a brief glimpse of it before he turned away. Huh. Maybe it was just you not paying enough attention. 

Either way, what came out of your mouth next would surely grab his. 

“Don’t worry about it. But hey, this is the first time you’ve been here with me, so look alive, won’t you?” It happened to be a slip of the tongue, something bold and improvised, but luckily, he reacted fairly quickly before the regret set in.

“Oi, you better not be flirting with me already,” Arthur grumbled, feeling another smile come as he heard you chuckle. Since when was he this expressive? He pinned it on the fact that he was starting to have a little fun himself. 

“Couldn’t imagine it.” Before he could add anything else, you hopped in front of the penguins and started waving your friend over with great gusto. “Ivan, c’mere. Arthur, mind taking a photo of us?” Once he joined your side, the two of you held up peace signs for the Brit to snap a photo. 

“Ivan, change your pose. We can’t have both of you doing the same thing.” 

The said man moved his peace sign to the back of your head so he could stick two fingers over it. “Is that better?”

“... Better.” Trailing his emerald eyes to you, he felt his cheeks heat up a touch at the sight of you grinning ear to ear. What the fuck, Arthur. Just take the damn photo. And that was exactly what he did, showing you both right after. Whatever just happened, he boiled it down to him idealizing a stranger. That was right. He had yet to get to know you, so his perception of you couldn’t be any better at this stage. 

But there was one thing he couldn’t deny.

“Damn, I look really ugly in this. You two better not post this anywhere.” You settled a hand over the screen to lower it with a nervous laugh. Then, you looked away, and what was that? You looked a little flustered. 

You were cute.

Hanging his head to look at the photo, he knitted his brows together. You? Ugly? He couldn’t imagine it. 

“... I bet I could take an even uglier one of you.”

Spinning back to him, you folded your arms. “What did you say?” 

“Nothing.” He shook his head slowly, and the amusement in his voice made it blatantly obvious he was lying. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Walking off at that, Ivan followed. Because he was behind him, he could brush his shoulders against his. Arthur looked up at that, but almost wished he didn’t. Ivan was smiling down at him so shrewdly, it was threatening. Then, he raised a hand to his mouth so he could laugh softly. “Huhu. You like (F/N)~” 

His eyes flew open and blood rushed up to his face. “What the hell gave you that impression? I literally just met them!” As adamant as he sounded, he knew deep inside he liked you, but only platonically. Your personality was refreshing, and talking to you was as easy as breathing. Even if it wasn’t platonic attraction, he was endlessly frustrated the other figured it out earlier than he could. 

Whatever it was, he was certainly more sociable than usual, even to the point of being a tease. And not to mention the rosy cheeks. Maybe he should’ve just kept his trap shut--otherwise, his huge outburst let Ivan milk the obvious. Fuck. He even started to giggle like a schoolchild. 

Giving him a rough shove, he muttered a string of curses under his breath.  “I bloody hate your arse, you know that?” He hissed, his face now redder than a tomato. God, why he did have to be born so pale? Every slight change to his complexion was jarring, and it was embarrassing. 

“Don’t hate me because I’m right,” Ivan hummed, joining his side as your back came into view. “Once you realize, it’ll be too late. I’m not letting you have (F/N). I will always be (F/N)’s number one.” Lighting up at that, he skipped off to you in the front. “Wait for me, sunflower! Don’t leave me alone with Arthur!”

Arthur stopped in his tracks and clenched his fists. How annoying. If he was going to continue being a little tyke, then he figured he’d up his game as well. He didn’t know what that exactly entailed yet, but he’d do it. Ivan didn’t even sound like he wanted anything more than friendship, so what was with that? Pointing a finger at him as he walked off with you, his face scrunched up. 

“What did you even call me out for then, you idiot? I’m supposed to be guiding you both!” Picking up his pace at that, he slotted himself between you and him. Flashing you a brief smile, he gave Ivan another push without breaking eye contact. “It’s a tight fit for three, so he’ll stay in the back.” 

“Hey, no fair!” 

By the time the whole aquarium was toured, you and Arthur were laughing to yourselves while leaving through the exit. 

But the joyful atmosphere was short-lived. 

The Ferris wheel just outside was the next stop, and the Brit offered to splurge a little to have a carriage without strangers. That way, you could run around as much as you wanted, even if that meant leaving the two men to sit in their lonesome. While Ivan was sitting on the bench in the centre out of his own volition, the same couldn’t be said for him. 

Sitting back to back to the other, he pressed his legs firmly together and leaned over in a hunch. Then, he dug his hands through his hair, all while keeping his round eyes fixated on the ground. His heart couldn’t stop pounding, and his head was spinning like a carousel. What was he thinking, taking you here? That was right. This was an iconic destination you couldn’t miss, that was why. He was initially planning on staying back there on the ground, but you were so excited, he couldn’t help but hop on with you. 

Fuck. Maybe Ivan was right about him. But he wouldn’t let him know it. Speaking of the guy, he didn’t know if he was sitting there by choice, or just rubbing it in. While he was incapacitated by fear so he couldn’t even stand, he was sitting there because he wanted to. 

“You should’ve stayed on the ground if this was going to happen.” 

Arthur screwed his eyes shut and tightened his arms around his stomach. “... Shut up.” 

“I was just saying.” Ivan murmured, looking at him over his shoulder. Poor guy. He really was down bad, wasn’t he? Down bad for you, that was. Too bad Arthur was hoping he wasn’t convinced--but it was too obvious. So all Ivan wanted was to prove his point, and later on, keep you away from him. But maybe he’d save it until after the ride was over. “... This ride is thirty minutes long. You’ll live.” 

He heard the other groan. “Thirty minutes? How long has it been?” 

“Mm... Ten.” 

“Fuck me.” 

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be long before you would pull away from the railing and return to the company of the two. Arthur had been praying that somehow, you’d leave him alone sitting there, pathetically, but he couldn’t expect something so cold from you. So while he hung his head, he wasn’t surprised to feel your hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, you okay?” He heard you ask, but he never looked up. 

“... Yeah. Just give me a minute.” 

“I have. Ten, actually.” Taking a seat beside him, you leaned down to peer at his face, which was a few shades paler than normal. He didn’t even have the energy to respond, and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. Concern immediately contorted at your features, especially when he looked so shaken. “Arthur, you look a little sick. What’s wrong? Can you talk?” 

He shook his head slowly before managing a weak smile at you. “Sorry, love.” It didn’t even faze him he just called you that. He was far too uncomfortable to feel the embarrassment from a nickname he should’ve saved until a little later. 

“I’m not... Too good with heights. Never have been... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.” His voice was slow and faint, and you were beginning to suspect he was having a panic attack. “... Sorry if I seem a little lame.” 

“No, of course not.” You frowned. “Things like this happen. Just breathe with me, okay? You can do it. Just count to ten.” 

Arthur took a deep inhale. “... Okay.” 

Around ten minutes later of these exchanges, he calmed down some, especially when you kept on reminding him that the carriage was finally descending. Once the ride was over, you had to help him up and walk him out. Now that he had his two feet planted firmly on the ground, it didn’t take long for him to recover. Even then, you remained rather cautious and stuck with him on your journey to Soho. By the time everyone took their seats in Circolo Popolare, a beautiful Italian restaurant Arthur so kindly booked, you were still looking out for him.

Leaning over to rest your head on the table, you glanced up at his face with a soft smile. “... You okay now?” 

A light blush dusted his cheeks and he nodded. You didn’t need to be this observant with him considering he was well now, but he loved your attentiveness. It wasn’t something he was used to. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thank you. Now quit worrying about me, alright?” Rubbing the nape of his neck at that, you couldn’t help lingering on his body language for a moment.

It didn’t matter what he dressed like, or what his personality was. He could be endearing when it came to it, and a total softie too. And the thought made you smile even wider. If he thought you were cute, then you thought he was adorable. “Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” You slowly turned to Ivan, the action making Arthur tense up a little. 

Reaching out to your hand, he took it. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

The feeling of his warm fingers around yours made your heart skip a beat. Did he just? Your thoughts manifested into your look of shock, and you darted your eyes over his neutral expression to try and decipher it. Before you could come up with anything, there was a phone in your face, followed by a flash. 

“Wha--?” 

He turned the screen to you to reveal a photo of you, and in your opinion, it was the least flattering picture anybody had ever taken of you. “I said I’d take an uglier photo of you, didn’t I?” Arthur grinned, the words acting like a cold splash of water to bring you back to reality. 

“... You sneaky little shit.” You growled. “Delete that right now!” 

“How about no?” 

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Arthur.” 

“I think you already have, love. You’re smiling right now.” 

You stared at him wordlessly for a few seconds. Then, out of nowhere, you reached out to snatch his phone right out of his hands. Tapping furiously on the screen to get rid of it, you heard his chair scrape back violently as he tried to retrieve it. “Why, you--” 

But it was too late. Gone forever. Lost in the abyss of cyberspace. And so, he immediately channelled his frustration by jabbing his fingers into your sides. “If I can’t have that photo of you, at least let me do this!” You burst into a fit of laughter so loud, nearby patrons turned their heads. Only then did he pull away, leaving you to recover through breathless wheezing. 

“Fuck you, Arthur.” You whispered, but it was on an affectionate note more than anything. As you glowered at him from your seat, you never noticed Ivan doing the same thing, but he was glaring at the Brit for an entirely different reason. Arthur had to be the most self-aware person out there, and to make a scene in a restaurant like this? He really fell for you, didn’t he? 

When he realized Ivan’s scorching gaze burning into him, he froze. 

Not just out of how intimidated he was, but the epiphany that he was right all along. Why else was he acting so out of character? The only explanation was this--in the short time of being with you, he may or may not have developed a little crush. But that was no problem, right? 

All he needed to do was to ask you out. 

But that would prove a task easier said than done, especially when Ivan decided to attach himself to you by the hip after that stunt. That cunning bastard knew what he was doing. After a little window shopping around Bond street and Mayfair, he stuck to you like a tattoo, and kept it up until night fell. While the group walked around Camden, Ivan kept you by his side with a firm grip on your hand. 

When you asked why he was suddenly so clingy, he simply justified it with, “It’s dangerous for small people like you to wander around at night!” 

But Arthur called bullshit. Especially when the other went ahead and smirked at him right after saying it. Maybe he liked you too, but was refusing to admit it. How hypocritical. If not, then he probably didn’t want you making friends when you were the only friend he had. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to back down so easily. Camden may be the last destination for the night, and perhaps, the last time he’d see you again for God knows how long, but it was his trump card.

If this didn’t sweep you off your feet enough to get you to pull away from Ivan, nothing would. 

As a town famous for its thriving nightlife and punk culture, it encompassed everything he was passionate about, and he’d give anything to show it to you. So he included a visit to the bar here on the agenda today, one that hosted live music. While you and Ivan got comfortable in your seats, Arthur never made a move to sit down. 

It was already dim inside, so you never noticed him leave. The next time you saw him, it was a few minutes later when he was on stage with a few other musicians. Leaning forward with surprise, you watched him strap on a bright red electric guitar. Walking up to the microphone, he adjusted that. No way. 

You were still trying to process him being a professional performer, but a lead singer as well? 

The second he strummed the strings to start a guitar riff, he opened his mouth to start singing.

Play this while you read

Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time

And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach

His fingers never stopped moving as he belted out note after note. His voice was so different to how he talked, you had to do a double take. He sounded a little more rasp, a little more punk. To say you were impressed was an understatement. 

Now dance, fucker, dance, man, he never had a chance

And no one even knew it was really only you

While he jammed out on stage, he was electric. The energy in the bar exploded, and he had everyone singing along. You could almost see the confidence in him shoot up from the excitable crowd, because he was smirking. 

Nice work, you did. 

You’re gonna go far, kid! 

Turning his head to you as he sung that line, you raised a hand to your mouth. Whether he did that on purpose or not was a mystery. But no words could describe how attractive it was. Hell, it even made you mind blank for a few moments. This was Arthur? He was like an entirely different person! Needless to say, you were completely star struck. 

You couldn’t even make out what Ivan was telling you when the music was blaring in your ears. But you didn’t care. Arthur had you caught in a trance with his voice and guitar all until the end. When the song finally ended, the band bowed graciously and threw up hand signs as the audience erupted in applause and cheers. 

When he stepped off the stage, you didn’t hesitate to run up to him. There, you practically pounced on him for a tight embrace. “Oh my god, you were amazing! I didn’t know you could play so well! And sing, too! Why didn’t you tell me!?” You exasperated, pulling away to be met with his dazzling smile. It was the first time you’ve seen him so energetic, as if performing sparked a fire inside him that burned with youthful intensity. 

“I was dying to show you all day. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I had to save the best til’ last, didn’t I?” He grinned, feeling his heart swell up with warmth as he watched you light up. 

“Well, good on you! I loved it!” Squeezing him again, you felt his chest shake under his laughs. When you pulled away, you reached up to cup his face. But it felt so natural in the spur of the moment, even he didn’t seem to care. 

“Thanks again for today, Arthur. I really appreciate you taking us out today. You completely blew me away.”

The way how you phrased it reminded him of why he was here in the first place. That was right. He still had to ask you out. And with Ivan watching on from afar, this was his chance. The thought reddened his cheeks, but while you had his face in your hands, he couldn’t feel more comfortable. “Is that so? If that’s the case, how about I take you out again?” His expression grew serious. “A proper date, I mean.” 

It was your turn to blush, but you managed a quick answer. 

“No need to look so serious, love. Of course I’ll go on a date with you.” 

He chuckled and leaned in to peck your lips. “Stealing my vocabulary now, are we?” 

“Stealing kisses now, are we?” 

“Touché.” 

Now a third wheel of the group, he breathed out a soft sigh and rested his cheek on his hand. “I guess my job here is done.” It didn’t really look like it, but he had been trying to play the wingman all along. Arthur was always one to go a little crazy when he wanted something, and only more so when he was desperate. So all he gave him was a little push in the right direction. 

Maybe he would thank him later, but for now, he’d leave you two be. 

This is a request. Thank you for requesting.

#hetalia fanfiction #hetalia #aph #aph england #england x reader #aph england x reader #arthur kirkland #request #oneshot #hetalia x reader #Axis Powers Hetalia #Axis powers ヘタリア #alfredosauce50 #hetalia fanfic #ivan braginsky #aph russia #aph russia x reader #reader insert #x reader

[dropofgoldensun]

omg hiiiii i am here from cat (@luvdsc) wondering if you could offer any advice about college apps 🙏 especially about the uc piqs? thank you so much i hope ur doing well!!!!!!!!

yes yes hello friend !! 💝 miss cat directed you to me because i did my college apps last year !!! (yikes one year passed already?? why does that feel ages ago 🤧)

first of all, congratulations on making the decision to apply to college !! i know it’s been hard for a lot of people our age to figure out the college situation recently, so i’m proud of you for choosing to take the extra step this summer to buckle up and write those essays 💞

i’ve compiled a few tips on answering the PIQs (i was actually in the middle of typing this up when i received your ask haha), but some of them can be applied to other essays, as well !! they’re all under the cut (because, unfortunately, being brief is not my forte) 😊

(and for reference, the prompts i chose were #2 (creativity), #6 (subject), #7 (community), and #8 (anything) !!)

tip #1: understand the prompt.

before you even begin writing, it’s important to understand what the question is really asking. for the UC PIQs, this will look different depending on which four prompts you decide to do.

in question one, for example, they want to know about your skills in leading others, but notice that they’re also curious about your resolution abilities and teamwork experience. or in question two, they don’t want to know that you paint and that you love painting—they could be asking how resourceful you are, how you think outside the box when you have an idea.

once you know the question you’re going to be answering, you can move on to brainstorming!

tip #2: write down three (3) key takeaways.

these are like the most basic, not-even-a-sentence answers you would give to each question. so for me, in response to question eight (“what do you believe makes you stand out as a strong candidate for the UCs?”), my answers were perseverance, courage, and character. i had a story about that, so i wrote about my experience with martial arts.

i recommend you do something similar. decide on three things that you want to communicate to your audience, and write them in the footnote of your document. your goal is to cover all three points so that, if anyone were to read your essay, they would walk away understanding those three things about you.

i found this strategy really helpful for keeping my essay streamlined while writing—if a sentence didn’t relate to any of those main points, i would cut it since those words would take up valuable space in the word count. stay focused on what needs to be in this essay, and if you have extra words left in the word count later, you can add those details back in.

and once you’re done with your essay, make sure to refer back to your takeaways and check that you covered all of them sufficiently!

tip #3: highlight your stories.

i sent cat an ask a couple days ago with a few pictures of my response to an end-of-year college counseling survey that referenced this tip (you can find it here). basically i said that, when choosing what topics to write about, pick things that interest you! if you get excited talking about it, your audience should get excited about reading it, because they’ll pick up on the passions you have and then everyone’s excited !!! :D

i’ll tell you a secret: everyone you meet, everyone you see, has countless unique experiences that few others may have. me? i spend hours making mashups out of kpop songs. i earned my black belt years after a traumatizing experience during training. i get russian harry potter and spanish dr. seuss books from the library. and i created a collaborative online google photos album for my classmates that now has thousands of entries. although these aren’t necessarily unique to only me, they’re still special enough to the point where, when you put them all together, you get a better image of the person i am, and what i value.

so find a story, a habit, a hobby that makes you different, because i believe that everyone has them. give them some food for thought, or that one-liner that sticks in their brain and won’t go away. and remember: these stories don’t all have to be extraordinary—they should be about people or moments of special value to you, because that’s what matters.

personal tip: when i was brainstorming ideas, i decided that the best way to get ideas out there was to go on a rant (because sometimes it helps to just have a conversation with yourself !!) and i recorded myself, so i could replay what i said !! this was so so crucial to me finding my own voice for writing essays. notice the way you word things when you talk—a good line or two may make it into the final draft :)

i found it helpful to read sample essays as well! they give a lot of great ideas on the kinds of topics people write about. (also, it’s kind of fun, because who doesn’t love a good story?)

but the people reading your essay won’t be there to just enjoy your story; what they really want you to do is to tell them what you learned from your experience. they want to know whether you’re teachable and willing to grow both as a student and as a young adult. so make sure to take note of the life lessons you learned, experience you gained, character you built, etc.

minor tip on ending your essay: if you’re telling a story that happened in the past, then close with what you learned and how you can apply that to your life moving forward. if you’re telling a story that has no definite end yet (like a passion or dream you have), you probably don’t have everything figured out (and you can say that in your essay!), so it might be better to close with your hopes for the future.

tip #4: ask your family for help.

peer-editing is one of the most effective ways to detect errors and inconsistencies in your writing, because, after staring at your essay for so long, you might gloss over glaring contradictions. for all of my essays, i printed them out and asked my parents to help me revise them. we’d meet every other night (or every night, depending on how much time was left) to review and discuss improvements.

i actually kept some of those printed drafts (only the first and the final ones for comparison), and let me tell you from experience—you’re probably going to have a lot of drafts (i think the most i did was seven? but you don’t need to go that far!). this part of the process does take some time, so remember to be patient and kind to yourself :) these essays won’t happen overnight!

enlisting the help of others also helps keep you accountable. one of the struggles many seniors face while writing essays is just... setting aside time to do them. and even though the constant reminders from your parents will definitely get repetitive and a bit stress-inducing, i can tell you from personal experience that i’m so glad they did; otherwise, i don’t think i’d have my essays done in time :’)

while writing college essays is challenging, your family will be there supporting you each step of the way. chances are that they’ll have their own pointers to pass on to you, since they probably remember doing this process themselves! and, out of everyone in your life, they probably remember the most about you (because you probably don’t remember much when you were four or five), so they might have a couple starter ideas for topics when brainstorming. you can rely on them for their advice and their experience.

tip #5: self-editing.

here’s the part that takes the longest time.

use action words. this is probably something you’ve heard all throughout elementary school where they didn’t like you to say “said” because it was “boring”… but honestly, the difference between “doing my own version” and “infusing it with my personality” could go a long way. also, use words that you would actually use in an essay—then it’ll have your own special flair, and not sound like it’s taken from some stuffy 80s textbook!

here are some of the words i used (once again, you shouldn’t use these words if they don’t sound like something you’d write/say): potential, overlay, wrestle, launch, analogous, weave, infuse, experiment, outlet, revel, fascinate, satisfaction, pursue, expand, distinction, capture, range, archive, engage, beyond, build, adversity, cultivate, preserve, commit, explore, convey, naturally

also, be on the lookout for repeated words. i once wrote an essay without noticing that i used “hope” three times in the same paragraph. don’t do that! use synonyms :) personally, i tended to run short on synonyms, so i always kept a tab or two open on my computer reserved for searching up new words.

side note: unfortunately, during my search for synonyms, i discovered that thesaurus.com just didn’t give me what i was looking for. i highly recommend using wordhippo instead; it has so many more options and they’re grouped by the different definitions of your word! i found the synonyms i needed really quickly and it was very satisfying!

avoid the passive voice! my teacher gave me this tip for theses or any other college-level writing. here’s an example of the passive voice: “there was a large part of me that wanted to turn back.” that’s twelve words taking up precious space in your word count! instead, say something like, “i considered turning back.” you’ve just freed up eight words :)

tip #6: final revisions.

this is the step where you fine-tune your essays. meet that word count.

read your writing out loud. does it sound like you? it should. every writer has a different voice, and you need to ensure that yours is pervasive throughout your essay. feel free to use contractions—not only do they reduce your word count (this was a good thing for me, since i had a problem with getting under 350 words), but they also give a more casual tone to your essay, as if you’re telling a story to someone in the room.

next, pretend to be an admissions officer and have someone else read your essay to you. do you get excited hearing about this student who shares your name? if you do, there’s a good chance the real admissions officers will love your essays, too. this also gives you a chance to review to your essay as a whole. pay attention to the overall flow. is there a clear beginning and end? do you resolve the issues and overcome the trials you brought up? listen to it as if it’s a story, and take this time to enjoy what you’ve written. you worked hard!

final thoughts / encouragements.

oh my goodness, did we make it to the end? honestly if you did, thank you so much 🥺

okay but despite my relatively optimistic tone throughout this post, i’m still going to be honest with you—the college essay writing process is difficult. it requires you to look inside yourself and analyze the “why” behind some of the things that you love, and that isn’t easy to do at all. it’s intellectually and emotionally challenging, because not only do you need to use so much energy writing, but you also have to dig deeper to understand yourself, and that’s not easy, either.

but i wanted to encourage you, too. no matter what you may think of yourself at 12am, 2am, 4am writing these essays, believe you have a personality that others love and will love when they meet you. you are an interesting person with unique experiences who deserves to share your thoughts with others. you have so many people behind you, supporting you during these next few months. and when you find that you can’t write any more, remember to take time to care for yourself. have a warm shower. go to bed early. i could go on and on about why sleep is good for your brain but i’ll spare you the details in this post 😉

one last thing: keep the bigger picture in focus. remember, by december or january, you will be finished with most of the application process. that’s no small accomplishment. you can do it. 💝

i really hope you found tips that you were looking for, and that they’re applicable to your own PIQs and other essays !! if you have any other questions, feel free to send in another ask (i promise my response won’t be this lengthy LOL) 💘💓

oh, and if you feel comfortable enough reaching out about anything in particular, i’m only a DM away 💕 i wish you the best of luck on writing your essays and i hope you enjoy your final year of high school !! 💗🌸💟💖

#asks #college tips

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: A Balmy Tuesday in Hell

Taking a break from the prompt requests to wish a very happy birthday to @snailbutters! Tbh I like this idea a lot and I’m tempted to expand on it more. Cross posted on AO3. 

xxx

When Mike went looking for a part-time job to earn some spending money, he had a hard time finding one that worked around his college class schedule. All the good on-campus jobs were taken, and most of the ones he found offsite required him to be up way too early or way too late with very little flexibility. 

The front desk position at the Beelzebob, a local hair salon advertising an array of “wicked styles” for any occasion, was not the most glamorous position, but it welcomed part timers and offered flexible schedules to be discussed on a case by case basis. It was at the tail end of a long week of job hunting with little to show for it, and Mike was tired. Still, he dragged himself all the way there after his three-hour Friday seminar and put on his best retail charm for the interview. 

One of the stylists told him to wait in the lobby while she grabbed the manager for his interview, and so Mike sat in a plush, purple chair and eyed the stack of magazines on the coffee table—HJi, Professional Beauty, NHF, and others he recognized from Googling “how to work at a hair salon” last night. A playlist that seemed to consist entirely of K-pop pumped ripples of bubblegum bass through the speakers and had Mike tapping his fingers on his hip. There was no one behind the sleek, glass reception desk, so Mike got up and wandered over to it. He tried to imagine himself with the headset on, fielding phone calls and helping customers pick out one of the many luxury hair products on the walls behind the desk. He touched his own brown hair—plain and getting a bit long, but styled with a little wax for the day—and worried about whether he should have tried a bit harder for this interview. Would he be judged on his own hair? That seemed reasonable enough—

“This simply won’t do.”

Mike startled at the lyrical voice and turned around to find a seven-foot, red-skinned demon in Lululemons appraising him over an enterprising nose. Which would have been a cause for mild to moderate alarm even in Metroville—a hub for lowlifes, Supervillains, and the occasional monster on a mission out of Townsville farther north—except that Mike recognized this particular demon. At which point he got the pun in the name of this place and smiled. 

“Him,” he squeaked. And then, remembering his high school retail training: “I mean, Mr. Him.”

Him—Prince of Pestilence, Duke of Depravity, Earl of Evil, et cetera—blushed the color of an open wound. “You’re house trained, I see. All right, this way.”

Him turned on his Louboutin heel and headed into the salon. Mike hurried after Him, unsure whether this was good or bad. Him led him to a styling chair and sat him down. A purple salon cape made its way around Mike’s neck with a flamenco flourish, and Him leaned over his head in the reflection. 

“What are we thinking?”

Mike eyed his potential future employer from perfectly curled goatee to artificial mink lashes and hesitated. 

This is a test. 

It had to be. Surely, anyone manning the phones had to know something about haircare in general. If he was to be the vanguard, the watcher on the Wall, he would have to be able to alert his colleagues of the incoming threats and answer questions about how to fend off anything from tangles to split ends. Mike tried to remember the last time he got a haircut; Boomer had been with him, his eye far more discerning than Mike’s. 

“Comb over,” Mike said. 

“Quiff?”

“More faux hawk.” He tried not to think of the heat on the back of his neck, and instead of the sly grin on Boomer’s face the last time he’d been under the scissors. “With a low fade. Um, please.”

Him’s fangs gleamed when he grinned. “Good choice.”

For a demon with claws the size of dinner plates, Him was surprisingly adroit and precise to a literal razor’s edge. In fact, Mike was certain Him must sharpen his claws to get them sharp enough to shave the hair from the nape of his neck, which seemed like a sensible time-saver. Blackpink’s Pretty Savage blared over the speaker as Him coifed and styled the thicker locks that remained on top of Mike’s head, combed to the left in enviable, anti-gravity perfection. 

“Wow.” He touched the side of his head, marveling at the close but generous cut and the perfect blend. “This has to be the best haircut I’ve ever gotten.”

He got up and removed the cape, only to find Him with a broom in his claw. “I run a clean salon, Michael.”

Mike accepted the broom without question. “Yes, sir.”

Him preened. “Good lad.”

“Does… Does this mean I got the job?”

Him flipped his claw. “There will be a trial period. You young people are so used to texting that I’ll have to determine if you’re fit to answer a phone. But, considering your manners, I have a good feeling about you.”

Amazing! “Thank you so much! When do I start?”

“Honey, you’re already late. I have customers waiting.” Him snapped his claw. “Chop chop.”

Mike swept up his shorn hair and the hair around the chair next to his, dumped it all in a bin labeled “Hair,” and ran to the front desk to answer the phone ringing off the hook. The stylist who’d greeted him, Marisol, helped him with the computer login so he could manage appointments and checkout. It was easy enough, a Square card reader and a cash register and a huge logbook of every sale. 

“Middle finger up, F-U, pay me,” Mike whisper-rapped along with Lisa. 

A couple hours later, Him handed him a check for the time worked and told him to be back here tomorrow at 3 p.m. Mike accepted the check, but he didn’t pocket it. 

“Sir, I should tell you for the sake of full disclosure.”

Him peered down at him with his claws on his hips. “Oh?”

This should not be so hard.

“I’m, well, I’m involved. With your son. Boomer.”

Him clicked his claw, and Mike held his breath. 

Boomer had spoken about Him—Baron of Brutality, King of Chaos, Emperor of Enmity et cetera—on just a few occasions throughout their acquaintance. Raising souls from the dead was a hobby of Him’s, apparently, but often his necromantic offspring ended up rotting and were no fit candidates to promenade in civilized society that wasn’t eternally damned and burning. Chemical X cut out that inconvenience, and thus the perfect little boys were reborn, or something. According to Boomer, Him was evil on Sundays, a prolific genius on Tuesdays, and crocheting with his kobolds on Fridays. The rest of the time he was just a normal demon trying to survive in this capitalist post-modern society like everybody else. Anyway, Sunday wasn’t in Mike’s work schedule, so that seemed safe enough.

“I know,” Him said. “You don’t expect me to believe you’d Googled the most flattering hairstyle for your bone structure without help, do you?”

Mike was pretty sure there was a compliment in there, even if it wasn’t for him. “I guess not.”

Him beamed. “Don’t worry. I would never let my favorite son’s romantic life influence the culture at Beelzebob. You’ll be judged before an impartial tribunal of incubi, like everybody else. Now, before you go, I’d like you to dispose of the waste, please.”

Mike learned the value of separating trash that day. Discarded receipts and candy wrappers dumped in the waste bin went into the trash, lunch leftovers went to compost, and cut hair went to sacrificial offerings. 

“Sacrifices reduce our carbon footprint and offer protection against flat Earthers. It’s a proven science, you know.”

Mike supposed it would be poor manners to argue with an ancient evil on his crochet day.

xxx

Boomer was all sly smiles and discreet hand touches when Mike treated him to dinner at their favorite Thai place later that week. 

“So, your job seems to be paying well,” he said. 

“Well enough to take my boyfriend out to a nice dinner now and then.”

“Careful. Spend too much time with Him and your tastes will get really expensive.”

Mike laughed. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll switch majors to cosmetology and join the family business.”

“You know what? He’d probably love that. He tried so hard to get Brick to follow in his footsteps, but Mojo let him mess around on his E-Shares account once when we were eleven and Brick was lost to the finance track forever. I’m pretty sure Mojo did it on purpose.” Boomer leaned in and clinked his wine glass to Mike’s. “Anyway, buy me this dinner before you jump to joining the family business.”

Mike flushed. “I’m—I didn’t—”

Boomer laughed. “Chill! I’m just messing with you.”

The playlist at the restaurant began playing Blackpink’s Kill This Love, and Mike burst out laughing. 

“What?” Boomer asked. “You like this song? You know, Him is really big into K-pop lately. Butch thinks someone must have sold a bunch of souls and made a killing.”

“I know.” Mike kissed Boomer’s hand. “It’s just funny how things work out.”

Boomer smiled. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Their food arrived, and Mike happily ate his meal across from Boomer. And in the back of his mind, he said a little thank-you to Him and whatever chaotic forces he controlled for reviving Boomer all those years ago. 

It must have been a balmy Tuesday in Hell.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #boomike #ppg boomer #mike believe #ppg him

[nostalgiabones]

Babysitting // Adoption AU

I started writing this MONTHS ago and finally got around to finishing it! A blurb featuring the guys babysitting Bella for the first time, as well as a surprise at the end 👀 as always, I’d love to know your thoughts on this! Please let me know here if you have any feedback 🥺 Also! I’m going to plan part four of the fic soon, and made this Google Form to take any ideas that you have for the next one! So let me know if you do ♥️

Word count: 3.3k

“Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”

Luke had asked the same question at least four times that morning. You were sure his nervousness had rubbed off onto Bella, as she had been toddling around after him all day so far — wherever Luke had been, Bella hadn’t been far behind.

“No,” You replied honestly, unsure about how Bella would react to being in her uncles care for the afternoon. It was the first time you and Luke were venturing out alone since Bella joined your family, and it felt a little odd to be going out without her, but you and Luke needed some time to yourselves. “But we have to leave the house at some point, babe. It’s just a few hours, we can come back if she needs us.”

You were going to your favourite restaurant, far away enough to feel as though you were going somewhere different but close enough that you could be home quickly if anything went wrong. You were leaving Bella in the capable hands of her uncles, along with Harper and Noah. She had spent enough time around them to know them well and feel comfortable enough to have them take care of her — although you had no idea how she would feel about not seeing you or Luke for a few hours.

“Are you going to leave at some point today?” Michael appeared behind you in the hall, a tiny, sleepy Noah curled up on his chest, snoozing after a feed. It was clear that Bella still wasn’t sure about the new addition to the family, never wanting to be too close to him — it never stopped her from getting her cuddles from Michael though.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” Luke pouted, peering into the lounge where Bella was playing with Harper — the usual sight when the two of them were together. “What if she gets sad?”

“Stop doubting our uncle abilities.” Michael replied, patting Noah’s babygrow covered back to keep him asleep as he spoke to his bandmate. “She’s going to be fine. We’ll call if we need anything.”

Bella appeared in the doorway as you prepared to leave.

“We’re gonna be fine, aren’t we Bells?” Michael placed his hand on her head softly, running his hand through her curls as he took in the scene in front of her.

“Go bye bye?” Bella asked, a confused pout on her face as she realised you were about to leave the house, the front door being the place where she’d usually say goodbye to anyone leaving the house. “Me coming.”

“No, baby.” You knelt down in front of her, taking her small hand in yours as she looked at you in confusion. “Me and dad are going out for a little while, okay? You’re staying here with your uncles. We’ll be back soon.”

“Why?” She asked, sadly. It made Luke’s heart ache as he listened. Another new thing she had picked up since turning two — questioning everything that was happening. Luke had lost track of the amount of times he’d told her it was bedtime, to be met with many questions about why she had to go to bed.

“So you can have fun with Harper!” You replied, hoping to get her excited about the prospect of spending the afternoon with them, rather than being sad. “You can play so many games, then tell me and dad all about it later.”

She didn’t seem convinced by your answer as Luke pulled on his jacket, trying to remember what he needed to tell the guys before leaving. Michael was the best one to tell, since he was successfully raising one child and had just started to raise another. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. Not that Ashton and Calum would, but they weren’t as confident in their babysitting abilities.

Michael had slipped back to the lounge whilst you were speaking to Bella, leaving Noah in Ashton’s capable hands for the moment so he could make sure she was okay.

“She’ll probably want a snack soon,” Luke told his bandmate, knowing she usually got hungry in the early afternoon. “Remember her nap, too. She doesn’t like napping anymore so she might not fall asleep easily but she will eventually.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it.” Michael waved a hand at Luke as if to shrug off his instructions. “You two just go and have fun, okay? Don’t worry. I’ll call you if anything goes wrong.”

“Can I have a hug, baby?” Luke knelt down and held his arms out to Bella, trying not to dwell on the sad expression on her face. It wasn’t that she thought they weren’t going to come back — more just that they were leaving to have fun without her. “I love you.”

“Bye.” She said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he hugged her small frame. He dropped a kiss to her cheek, letting go of her before you said goodbye to her too. Michael picked her up, setting her on his hip as she waved to you both.

“Bye guys, have fun!” Michael stood in the door as you got into the car, waving as Bella watched the two of you leave. He could tell she was feeling a little sad and confused, and wanted to cheer her up. “It’s okay, bub. They’ll be back soon. Do you want to play with Harper? Shall we play with your trains?”

She nodded against his shoulder, not resisting as he put her down to let her go and play. She sat down next to her train set, taking her favourite one and playing with it quietly. Harper was trying to interact with her, trying to get her to play how they were before — but Bella wasn’t having it.

“Bella, can I play with you again?” Harper asked her, trying to get involved with the game as Bella made no effort to let her join in.

“No, mine.” Bella replied, a stubborn pout on her lips as Harper crossed her arms and stood up to go and find Michael to tell him what had happened.

“Dad, Bella won’t let me play anymore. She’s being mean.” Harper told her dad, there being no way in her young mind that she could work out why Bella suddenly didn’t want to be her friend.

“She’s not being mean, honey. You know how you get sad when I have to go to work or on tour for a little while?” He asked, waiting until she nodded in response before continuing. “Well this is the first time Bella is feeling like this, okay? Uncle Luke and your auntie have never left her before.”

Harper seemed satisfied with the explanation, feeling sympathetic towards her pseudo cousin as she understood her sadness to an extent. She decided to play by herself for a while, hoping Bella would warm up and they could play together again when she felt better.

Michael sat on the sofa, re-claiming his sleeping son from Ashton’s arms whilst keeping an eye on Bella. She was rubbing her eyes, trying to focus on the many toy animals she had in front of her, playing quietly to herself.

It wasn’t long before she stood up, quietly walking over to Calum and resting her head on his knee, rubbing her face against the soft material of his joggers.

“Hey, Bells.” Calum ran a hand through her curls, causing a yawn to break out from her lips. “What’s going on? You okay?”

“Tired.” She replied, a sad whine in her voice as Calum made a sympathetic sound.

“You’re tired? Well, we can’t be having that, can we? Is it time for a nap?” He asked her, soft fingertips rubbing up and down her back as she looked up at her uncles.

Calum, realising he had no idea how to get her to go to sleep, suggested Michael took over whilst he held a sleeping Noah. Holding a sleeping baby was about as far as Calum’s babysitting skills went, since he didn’t actually have to do anything other than be a good pillow for his niece or nephew to sleep on. Anything beyond that was going a little far.

“I got you, come on.” Michael lifted her sleepy frame into his arms, dropping a kiss to her forehead before taking her upstairs. He remembered when Harper went through her sleep regression at Bella’s age — Michael himself felt like he went through the same thing since he didn’t get any sleep at that time either. He hoped his parenting skills wouldn’t let him down and that Bella would nap like she usually would.

The purple blinds in her bedroom helped to block out the light in the room. He sat in the rocking chair at the corner, not wanting to just put her in bed and leave her there in case she got upset. He rocked back and forth in the chair, humming under his breath to her as she wriggled in his arms.

“Down, please.” She asked, pushing her hands against his chest and trying to climb down from the chair. Maybe this would be more difficult than Michael anticipated.

“What’s wrong, bub? Don’t you want to sleep?” He asked her, keeping ahold of her so she didn’t slip out of the chair and fall. She managed to wriggle free though, landing on wobbly feet, trying to escape nap time. He wasn’t ready to give up on her nap yet. He recognised a sleepy toddler when he saw one, and Bella definitely was one.

She shook her head, mumbling another stubborn “no” and making her way to her bedroom door. Michael followed her, wanting to keep an eye on her in case she went to the stairs. She was heading that way — waiting at the top knowing she wasn’t going to get down there alone.

“You’re sure you don’t want to go to sleep? We can read one of your books.” Michael tried to reason with her, knowing her already not great mood wouldn’t be helped by missing her nap.

“Go play.” She told him, holding her arms up to him so he’d carry her downstairs. He hoped that maybe she’d play for a little longer and then decide she wanted to sleep. If not, he knew you and Luke would have your work cut out later on.

“Okay, Bella. You just tell me if you get sleepy though, okay?” He asked her, lifting her into his arms to take her back downstairs.

“Looks like someone is losing their touch, huh?” Ashton teased Michael, upon noticing him re-enter the room with Bella in his arms — not asleep. Since Harper was born, Michael had become the dad of the group — always bragging he’d be able to make any baby fall asleep within seconds.

“Not my fault she’s in a sleep regression.” Michael retorted, kissing her forehead before setting her back down. She went to sit with Harper, joining in with whatever she was doing. Petunia joined them too — flopping down behind them. Her and Bella had become best friends, now that Bella had gotten used to being around her.

They played together for a little longer, Michael distracted by changing Noah and talking to Ashton and Calum.

“Dad,” Harper called his name to get his attention. “I think Bella fell asleep.”

Michael turned around and was met with a sweet sight — Petunia happily sitting on the floor with Bella curled up against her, fast asleep. Her little hand was holding onto her, face smushed against her as she slept.

“Oh my god,” Calum chuckled, his heart melting at the sight as Michael considered letting her sleep there or moving her to where she would sleep better. Even though she looked comfortable, he knew she shouldn’t sleep in that position since it would probably hurt her neck. “That’s so cute.”

Calum pulled his phone out, snapping a few photos of the cute scene in front of them to show you and Luke later.

“C’mere, you.” Michael carefully knelt down and scooped her up into his arms, shushing her and making soothing noises as he held her to make sure she stayed asleep. “Cal, do you think you can handle letting her nap on you?”

“I think so.” Calum replied, holding his arms out for Michael to set her into. Calum wrapped his arms around her, cuddling her into his chest and rubbing her back as she got comfortable. She snuggled against his chest, her face squished against his neck — happily snoozing as he held her. “She’s like a little furnace.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Michael asked him, remembering when Harper used to fall asleep on him in the same way. He was glad he could experience it again with Noah. “Well, even nicer for you, since you can give her back at the end of the day.”

“Very true.” Calum replied, his hand rubbing circles on her back to keep her asleep. When first meeting Bella, and even before, he was worried that he wouldn’t get along with her or that she wouldn’t like being around them. Although it had taken a while for her to warm up to them, he couldn’t imagine their little family without her now.

Calum watched her as she slept, cuddling her in closer as she snoozed. Harper played with Ashton and Michael quietly, ensuring she didn’t wake up. He held her until she wriggled in his arms, stretching her arms out and opening her eyes.

“Hi, sleepy head.” Calum murmured to her, letting her come round for a moment before trying to talk to her more. “Did you have a good sleep? We had a good cuddle, didn’t we?”

She yawned, rubbing her eyes and looking around the room — as if she was looking for you and Luke.

“They’re not here, bubs.” Calum told her, pushing her hair away from her face. She slid off of his lap, feet landing on the floor with an “oomph” as she headed to the door. She kept calling your name, expecting you to appear from behind the door.

She made her way to the bottom of the staircase, looking upstairs. She’d clearly forgotten that you and him had gone out, and that she was in the care of her uncles and cousins.

“They went out, baby.” Michael told her, getting up to follow behind her and make sure she wouldn’t go upstairs alone. She looked at him in confusion, sporting the same pout she had done when you left the house. “They’re coming back later though.”

“No.” She shook her head, like she didn’t believe him. She looked up the stairs, and down at her feet, before looking at Michael. “Help please.”

Bella knew she wasn’t meant to go upstairs on her own — she had been told many times by you and Luke not to go up and down the stairs without supervision, since she wasn’t steady enough on her feet to do it without falling. Michael knew she was too stubborn not to go upstairs, as he knew she’d have to make sure you and Luke weren’t there before accepting that it was true.

She held her hands out to Michael, waiting until he took them and helped her go up step by step. Michael had forgotten how long it took to get anywhere with a toddler, since it had been so long since Harper had been at that stage.

As soon as they made it to the top of the stairs, she let go of his hands, making her way to your shared bedroom, like she was expecting you to be in there. She kept calling out your names, looking under your bed, followed by an “oh” when she couldn’t find you there. 

“They’re not here, sweetheart.” Michael tries again, standing in the door of the room, watching her make her way around in search of the two of you. “They’re coming back soon, I promise. Do you want a snack? Or to play?”

Something Michael had learned over the past few years of being a parent was that snacks and toys could usually win any toddler over. 

“No,” She whines, resting her cheek on your duvet, standing at the side of your bed. Michael isn’t sure how to approach her when she’s upset — he knows Luke has said something before about just letting her do what she needs to do to get her feelings out. However, he can’t help but just want to comfort her when she seems so sad. 

“Do you want a hug?” He asks her, kneeling in front of her, opening his arms. She thinks about it for a moment, turning her face to look at him, before moving away from the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck. She climbs into his lap for a cuddle, and Michael wraps his own arms around her, keeping her in his embrace. “It’s okay, Bella. I know you miss them. They’ll be right back.” 

“Sad,” She whines, her little voice making Michael’s heart ache as he listened to her. He offered to take care of Bella for a night, to give you more time to yourselves, but Luke said she wasn’t ready. Michael now understands why. You and Luke had worked hard with Bella to get her to express her emotions the best she can; meaning sometimes she’d just come out with random words on how she was feeling. 

“You’re sad? I’m sorry, honey. What can we do to make you happy, huh?” Michael replies, rubbing his fingertips up and down her back. “Do you want to go and play?”

He’s cut off by the sound of a key in the front door, and his ears perk up at the noise.

“Who is that, Bella? Who’s here?” 

She squeals excitedly in his lap as he stands with her in his arms, knowing it would be faster and easier to carry her downstairs than to get down herself. She babbles on his hip, a mixture of excited squeals and words he can’t understand.

“There she is!” Luke calls out, closing the front door behind him. Although the two of you had only been gone for a few hours, it had felt like much longer. He was anxious to know how Bella had coped without you both. 

“Who’s that?” Michael asks her, reaching the bottom of the stairs and setting her down, waiting until she’s steady on her feet before letting go of her hands.

“Daddeee!” She exclaims, running on wobbly feet to wrap her arms around his legs. The atmosphere in the room drops for a moment when everybody realises what she just said  — Ashton and Calum joining them in the hallway at the sound. “Up!” 

“Wait, she… she hasn’t said that before, has she?” Michael asks, knowing he hasn’t heard her say it before. 

“No!” You reply, tears lining your eyes as Luke picks Bella up, cuddling her into his chest. “She hasn’t said that whilst we’ve been gone, has she?”

Michael shakes his head, the moment warming his heart as he knows how much it means to Luke. He remembers the first time Harper said dad and how much it meant to him, how amazing it felt — so he knows how special this is for Luke. 

“Hi, baby,” Luke greets her, his lips brushing her forehead as he tries not to burst into tears in front of everyone. Just like when she called you mum for the first time, she doesn’t understand the weighting of what she said — in her mind, she’s just happy that he’s home. To Luke, it’s the word he’s been waiting to hear since the day he met Bella, one he’s wanted to hear since you first talked about adopting. It means the world to him. “What did you call me just then, huh? Who am I?” 

“Daddy,” She murmurs, the word muffled by his hoodie, but it was clear enough for him to hear. She cuddles into him, her face pressed against his neck. He can tell she’s not long been awake from her nap, always seeming to want him when she’s first woken up. He’s elated that he gets to spend this special moment with her, you, and the guys too. 

“That’s right, honey.”

***

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[spicycreativity]

The Core Four (Logan, Roman, Virgil and Patton) are somewhere spooky, old house, in the woods, etc etc, and it's a place where poltergeist/demon/ghost/devil/spirit/whatever you want Remus resides and haunts and is scary and evil in. (Or they summon him) And he's like "Ooh time to mess with them muahahahaha!" but he sees Patton and gets like this "Cute boy!" And gets interested in Patton instead.

Boop

Words: 2k

Pairing: Pre-slash Intruality

Other notes: College AU, mild Vitaminwater slander, somewhat based on my own college experience of being straight edge and bored all the time and also owning multiple fist-sized chunks of quartz crystal purchased from the tent outside the gas station down by the on-ramp on the far side of town 🥴 Our abandoned dorm building was not haunted, tho

Content warnings: Mentions of underage drinking (not depicted), mentions of overdosing (non-graphic), Remus is sexually forward toward Patton, swearing, innuendo, etc. Still, I'd only rate this T

While it was rooming assignments that brought Roman, Patton, Logan, and Virgil together during the first weeks at university, it was their mutual unwillingness to break any sort of rule that kept them together. While their peers were drinking smuggled alcohol and racking up write-ups from the RAs, the foursome would sit on Logan and Virgil's side of the dorm suite drinking Vitaminwater and attempting to entertain themselves with board games and Netflix. This, predictably, got old quickly and weekends soon became a desperate battle to stave off boredom and existential ennui.

The fraying thread of Roman's patience finally snapped the night Patton suggested Pogs. The lack of adventure had chafed at him longer than it had the others and he secretly longed for some sort of thrill, even if it meant breaking the rules.

"Ugh," Roman threw himself backwards onto the pillow he'd stolen from Logan's bed, nearly knocking over Patton's mostly-full bottle of grape Vitaminwater. "We're seriously so lame that we can't think of anything better to do than Pogs?" 

"Hey," said Virgil from atop his bed, and shook a few drops of açai-blueberry-pomegranate sugar water onto Roman's forehead.

"Sorry, Patton," Roman added, wrinkling his nose at the unpleasant sensation. "No offense, but I'm just so bored! I was expecting more adventure when I finally left my dreary old hometown."

"I thought you told us you were from Los Angeles," Logan said, tossing a package of Wet Wipes down onto Roman's chest. "And Virgil, I understand why you would want to teach Roman a lesson, but please try not to stain my pillowcase."

"What do you wanna do, Roman?" Patton asked, adjusting himself where he was propped up against one of the legs of Logan's bed.

"I don't know! All I know is that I have the most boring Snap story out of everyone in my stupid 100-level History class. Remy went surfing the other day. And he's from Nebraska! How does he know how to surf?" 

"There it is," Virgil said.

Roman sat up again and opened up the Wet Wipes so he could clean off his face. "Lightning round! Suggestions. Go!" He pointed at Virgil.

"Um," said Virgil. "Uh-- Sca-- Uh, horror marathon. Horror movie marathon."

"Ugh, no." Roman pointed at Logan.

"Studying."

"Oh, come on. Patton?"

"We all go to bed early so we can wake up and get breakfast together before the dining hall runs out of waffle batter?"

"Guuuys." Roman pointed at Virgil again.

"Man, I dunno, Roman! Like I'm the expert in what looks good on a Snapchat story."

"You're the one who's bored," Logan added. "Why don't you suggest something?"

"That's not how it works!" Roman shot back. "I'm the-- the arbiter, the czar! You're the idea guys."

"Okay, fine!" Virgil leaned over the edge of the bed to better give Roman the evil eye. "How about we break into the shut-down dorms with a ouija board and try to contact the spirit of that kid who OD'ed in the bathroom?"

"That's the spirit," Roman said.

"Ha," Patton said weakly.

"Wait," said Virgil, already desperately trying to make eye contact with Logan. "I was kidding. You can't be serious."

"No, no, that's a great idea! Virgil, go get your ouija board and whatever other spooky shit you have tucked away.

"We're going now?" Patton squeaked.

Logan sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Roman, anything you post to your Snapchat story can potentially be turned in as evidence and used to incriminate you. I suggest you leave your phone behind."

"Wait!" Virgil ran his hands through his hair, agitated. "You can't possibly be on board with this."

"I'm not," said Logan. "I am offering Roman advice for the same reason high school nurses' offices offer condoms: not as an encouragement, but as a safety measure. Either we all agree to go now or we all agree to go tomorrow night after Roman spends the whole day pouting and whining--"

"Hey!"

"So I suggest we just get it over with," Logan concluded.

"Seriously?" Patton was already pale and shaking, holding a stray hoodie of Virgil's close to his chest.

"It's okay, Patton," Virgil said, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'll let you wear my horn of protection amulet."

It took just under an hour to get everyone changed into darker clothes and outfitted with protective symbols from Virgil's collection. In addition to silver amulets and charms, he had handed out fist-sized chunks of quartz crystal to all of them with careful instructions not to lose them, as he wanted everything back at the end of the night.

But soon (all too soon for Patton) they faced the looming silhouette of the abandoned Monroe Hall. It was in surprisingly good repair despite the lack of security cameras and floodlights to deter intruders. In fact, the only light came from the blue emergency callbox situated a few yards down the path.

"We, genius," Virgil said, turning to Roman. "How do we get in?"

"I don't know!" Roman tossed up his hands. "I'd Google how to pick a lock but somebody" --he glared at Logan-- "made us leave our phones in the microwave."

"I already told you, it's a functional Faraday cage and--"

"Yeah, yeah, how about we save the science lectures for 8:00 am on Tuesdays and Thursday," Roman said.

"That was oddly specific," Virgil muttered, trying and failing to exchange a glance with Patton, who was staring at the ground and turning over the quartz crystal in his hands. "Wait, I've got an idea." He took his own chunk of quartz out of his pocket and slammed it through the glass door, sending a shower of tempered glass clattering onto the tiled floor inside. Then he stepped through the hole and beckoned the others in after him. "Let's go."

Patton made a muffled sound of fear and grabbed onto Logan's arm.  "You don't really think there's a ghost, do you?"

"Of course not," Logan said, leading Patton inside and following Virgil to the stairs.

"Wait!" Roman jogged ahead to lead the charge. "Are we not gonna talk about Virgil just--"

"Found a broken door and stepped through it?" Virgil interrupted, bumping Roman with his hip. "No, we are not."

Roman led them up a flight of stairs and down a corridor similar to the one in their own dorm building. All the doors they tried were locked, so they set up the ouija board in the hallway outside the bathrooms.

"Okay, gang," Virgil said once they were all sequestered around the board. "Pointer fingers on the planchette."

"Not our whole hands?" Roman asked.

Virgil shot him a sideways glare. "I'm sorry, are you the expert on the occult?"

"Are you?" Roman asked.

"Relative expert," Virgil said, sticking out his tongue. "Now. Pointer fingers on the planchette."

"I really don't know if this is a good idea," Patton said, extending a shaking hand.

"You should be more afraid of campus security," Logan said. "Although from the state of the building, it appears that we are the first to successfully enter."

"Nothing's happening," Roman complained, his eyes on the planchette.

"We haven't asked a question yet, genius," Virgil sneered.

"It seems rude to barge into someone's house and just start asking questions," Patton said. He looked up, addressing the ghost. "Hi!"

The planchette jerked and began to shake. Anticipating Virgil's accusation, Roman held up his other hand. "It's not me!"

"Shut up!" Virgil snapped. "It's moving."

They read the letters out loud together as the planchette began to move around the board: "N-I-C-E." Pause. "C-O-C-K."

"Oh, come on." Virgil grabbed the planchette and threw it at Roman's face. "Not funny."

"I swear that wasn't me!" Roman said, smacking the planchette down. It clattered across the board and came to a stop by the number '2.'

"Roman," Patton chided, "it's really not nice to mess with us like that."

"You too?' Roman said. He turned to Logan. "Come on, Specs, you know it wasn't me."

"I know it wasn't a ghost. I know it wasn't me. I know Patton and Virgil aren't likely to make that sort of joke. Therefore, I can safely posit that it must have been you. Although I wouldn't make an accusation without more evidence."

"Oh, come on!" Roman put his hand on the planchette despite Virgil's noise of protest. "Hey, spirit. Can you do something else spooky so my friends stop accusing me of--"

What happened next was equal parts anticlimactic and chilling: Roman's eyes turned green and began to emit a gentle glow. He was silent for only a moment before turning to Patton with a chipper smile. "Hey, hot stuff! Nice cock."

"Whoa" said Virgil, scrambling backwards toward the wall. "What the fuck."

"He invited me in!" said Roman, or more accurately, the ghost possessing Roman's body.

"Oh my God," Patton said. "That's not Roman."

"Yeah, no shit!"

"I'll give him back in a minute," said the spirit. "I just had to shoot my shot with hottie over here. What's your name, sugar?"

"Uh," said Patton, glancing wildly at Virgil (who was fumbling in his pocket for his holy water or his salt, whatever he found first) and Logan (who was actively blue-screening). "Patton?"

"Nice to meet you, Patton." The ghost stuck Roman's hand out for a shake. "Name's Remus. Has anyone ever told you you're kinda DILF-y for a college student?"

"N-no?"

"Well, you are."

"Thanks, I guess." Patton sat back and pulled his legs up to his chest in an unmistakably defensive pose. "Um, is there something that you wanted, Remus?"

"I already told you!" Roman's face beamed in a way it never had before, his eyes twitching strangely in their sockets. "I just popped in to shoot my shot. So?"

"He's propositioning you," Logan hissed. 

"I…" said Patton, panic whiting out his mind. Unable to find words, he held up his left hand to show off the silver band on his ring finger.

"You're married?" Roman's body leaned forward to read the engraved writing. "True love waits."

"It's a purity ring," Virgil explained, finally extricating a small vial from the tangle of cords and chains in his pocket. "And this is holy water."

"Wait," said Remus, "are you guys exorcising me? Cause I swear I'm gonna give you your friend back. I'm dead, not evil. Also," he turned to Patton, "is that a no?"

"Yes!"

"Wait, so you do wanna bang?"

"No!"

"Alright, alright, damn." Remus leaned Roman's body back, putting up his hands in a defensive gesture. "You know, I was gonna go full poltergeist and try to see if I could make you all cry, but I changed my mind when I saw Hot Pat-tato. Soooo, you're welcome."

"Yeah," said Virgil, "I'm not sure we should be thanking you for taking over our friend's body. Give him back, by the way."

"Wait!" said Patton. "Remus, why aren't you at rest? Is there something we can do to help you move on?"

"Nah," said Remus. "To be honest, I just wanted to haunt the crap out of some dumb college kids."

"Need I point out," Logan said, "that you are also a dumb college kid?"

Virgil looked around at the empty halls, walls of closed doors, the dusty spiderwebs hanging like streamers in the corners. "Wait. There's nobody to haunt."

"Yeah," said Remus. Roman's shoulders shrugged. "It's been kinda lonely and boring. 

"Sucks to suck," Virgil said, brandishing the sealed vial of holy water. "Okay, time to go."

Remus sighed and crossed Roman's arms over his chest. "Fine. I didn't really want to haunt you guys anyway."

"I might…" Patton twisted up his mouth thoughtfully, rubbing his fingers along the quartz crystal in his pocket. "Maybe I'll come back and say hello sometime."

The grin that unfurled across Roman's face was so familiar that Patton nearly hugged him. But his eyes were still that slightly luminescent green, still twitching and rolling like he was trying to take in every detail of the world all at once. "Really?"

Patton nodded and held out his hand palm-up. Roman's hand was icy, but Patton forced himself not to flinch as he brought his head down and kissed Remus' knuckles. "Really."

For a moment, there was silence. Then came a gentle warmth, and confused brown eyes staring down at Patton, who only had time to gasp before Roman tilted his head in confusion. "Um, Patton? Why are you holding my hand?"

#you are contractually obligated to point out any formatting errors or typos #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #intruality #college au #spicywrites #patton sanders #remus sanders #anyway i am forever entertained by the idea of ONLY projecting my idiosyncrasies onto the characters and none of my psychological trauma #hence the overshare about college #you can know every exact details of what i did from ages 18-21 but i will never ever tell you how my parents fucked me up #no bummers! funny shit only!

[gaymershigh]

hi! can i request riddle, ace, epel, deuce, and floyd finding out their male s/o is an age regressor to cope with stress? pls make it fluffy!! (also it's ok if you can't do my request !! /genuine)

Despite this being so long in my inbox for so long, I'm actually pretty excited to do this one, anonnie! However, this is a shorter since I don't fully know about age regressing, sorry about that! ಥ_ಥ

Triggers: none

Riddle, Ace, Epel, Deuce and Floyd discovering their male s/o is an age regressor

He was always the one who gets stressed out from his dorm members so you're probably the one that needs to comfort him if anything but it doesn't mean he doesn't know how to comfort you as well.

But that doesn't mean he automatically knows what to do when he's finds this information about you, though. He has learned several things throughout his garbage childhood but age regression is not one of it.

When Trey said it's been days since you looked drained and tired from what he presumely was because of you studying for the final exam and just prefect duties in general. This got him worried because you're his lover and obviously he doesn't want to see you worried.

When he did check up with you, he was loss for words. There were coloring books everywhere and then there's you connecting dots to finish the drawing of the book.

This is probably the times you are really stressed and of course he wants to help at all cost but he really doesn't know what to do. Of course, with your little explanation, everything gets a little bit easier to handle.

He didn't really have a good parent role models and the only thing that his mother did to him was celebrating his birthdays and sometimes act nice. He's not gonna act like that of course but he might accidentally project what his mother has done to you and if he did, he will be on his knees and apologize.

He'll do research's about things he should do with children/toddler/infant around your age. He wants you to feel fully comfortable on age regressing around him, this could also help him with parenting if you two would ever consider adopting or so.

Dating Ace won't save you from all the chaos and disasters from this school and he DEFINITELY won't stop from causing any trouble and stressing you out unintentionally.

To be honest, you're a whole different breed of alien if you don't get stressed out at the slightest by your boyfriend and friend's shenanigans. Not only do you have to deal with daily disarray but you also have prefect duties to be doing thanks to that deatbead of a principal.

You always run up to the dorm as soon as you had finish your tasks from headmaster. At the first few times you did it he didn't really give one. You probably want to sleep since it's just tiring but as more day passes by, Ace gets more pissed. You have been lessening your time with him and barely even check your phone.

He gets it, you're tired and all but he's a selfish bastard and wants your love 24/7. So when you kept ending your calls with him very early and he HAD it. So when he barged in to your room, my man went stiff. You were just in the middle of playing with some toys until he interrupted your little session.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

Just by telling him you're age regressing, he already knows what's up and what to do for some reason. He be sprinting to Sam's shop, not caring the weird looks he's getting from buying all these children/toddler type stuff. Does he care? HELL NO! You're his top priority at the current moment and this might be some way to spend time, no?

He'll dote and spoil you to bits. You're so cute, there's no way he could ever say no to your little self! Cuddles? Of course! New toys? Definitely! Headpats? Say no more! He'll love you and treat you like the lovely prince.

He sometimes accidentally forget that you can change to your big self and you'll have to remind him. He once treated you like a baby when you're in your bedroom, thinking you are still in your little self. It was awkward and he wished and beg for you to not speak about it ever again.

He was probably forced to take care of a baby in his hometown back then. Though, this doesn't mean he's automatically good at taking care of kids. If anything, he's horrible at it. He hadn't learned much from that babysitting experience.

Now, when he discovered that you age regress, those terrible memories of the baby crying up a storm comes back but this is potentially a time for him to enhance his babysitting skills, maybe? He freaking hopes so, he doesn't want to be a lost cause.

He's the one that always gets stressed and always in the lowest from the VDC practice. The burden that Vil keeps throwing on him makes him so worked up, he doesn't even see you getting also a tiny bit stressed from both manager duties and just watching others getting pressured in general.

You've been holding it back for awhile to turn to your little self in worries of getting caught. He finally notices when Ace asked if you're ok because you seemed like you're struggling with something. He got super suspicious when you kept brushing him off.

He thinks that you're just uncomfortable to talk about in public or it's something so private that even talking about it to your friends is a no-no. So when you're in your bedroom, he'll pester about you to spill the beans.

So when you did and explained to him what age regressing, he just let out a simple "oh". He doesn't know what to do other than asking questions on what you like to do. Please be straightforward with your answer because he's garbage at reading hearts and also just looks tragic when taking care of people younger than him.

He forces you that you're going to be little but in little and have to lock the door if you do because you need to let the stress go. He will also ask you if you're little subtly if your signs of being little is not as obvious.

He will learn how to take care of you and buy the things you like by looking at the things you already have or have a lot of quantity. He's not the best at taking care but he's getting better so give him a clap for that.

No little kid in their right mind would approach him when he's in his middle school days, meaning that he has have not a single interaction with a kid that could be remembered. If anything, they'll run the second he tries to even approach them. Sure, he now has experience with talking to kids but it's so painfully awkward it hurts your soul.

He knows what little space is but only the meaning of it and nothing else. He thought that people only do this because they want to literally go back to old memories which is partly true but that's not enough. You must educate this fool.

Just like Ace, you're not safe from the disasters of the school and your own boyfriend's idiocy. Him being less smart than Ace doesn't help it either. You're the god of patience if you can handle all of the messes both you, your friends and boyfriend have caused. Also again, you're something else if you can handle all the prefect duties from Crowley because he sucks.

You usually have study sessions with him so you can help him get better at history and other subject he sucks at and this could also help you memorise and learn new things as well. Though, you're have been either showing up late or keep coming up with excuses when you just don't attend at all. He's getting really impatient but doesn't want to sound like an asshole so he just deals with it.

You got caught for being little while in call without realizing. He swear he thought he can speak baby/toddler language when he spoke to you when you're still immersed in your little toys.

He ran to your room in Usain Bolt pace to your place, worried sick for you. You were finally back to your original state and explain the situation to avoid any stupid conclusions that he possibly can come up with. He was shocked when he found out this is a way to cope with stress. He asked will it help him too and if he should do it, are you against it or are you all up for it? Your choice.

He googled about how to deal with you when you're little and it miraculously help! Kinda. I mean, he knows what things to but for you and how to kinda get along with your activities. How to dote and actually treat you like your younger self? Eh...not so much but just like Epel, he's learning but not as fast as the purple haired boy. Still, praise him for putting this much effort!

It's known that he's spectacular with kids. Despite his intimidating height, he knows exactly what do without even making a single kid quiver in fear. He's way more experienced than anyone here and knows how to deal with age regressing people without himself even knowing it.

He does know what age regressing fully is just like Ace. Just say the word and he's lock and loaded with bunch of children activities that you two could do. He makes sure he brings the "fun" ones only according to his taste.

Being the manager for the VDC competition is such a burden, you knew it will be stressful but NOT this bad. From listening to others' worries to knowing the fact that there's nothing you can do at all about Vil's strictness. Watching others being in dilemmas while you're forced to sit back, watching your friends and peers at the lowest shatters your heart.

You feel absolutely useless and you hate it and telling your boyfriend about your problems won't help that much either. If anything, you don't want to annoy Floyd by seeing you in such a downer state so what's the best option? Don't spend too much time to the point of showing your problems until VDC is over! Definitely a good horrendous idea.

You didn't really think this through when he gets annoyed that you're being non-commital and looks like you really want to get out of here. He'll let it slide for a bit, thinking you're not in the mood like him sometimes but when it keeps happening consistently, he's had enough. He wants answers asap.

You should've expected him questioning and being unable to hide things from him. Since you know it's technically useless to hide things from him at this point. Might as well tell the whole thing, in a private place of course. There's no way you can let anyone else hear your little secret.

The only thing he asked is to confirm that you're age regressing. Once you say yes, he immediately goes down to business. You want that dino toy? Purchased. You don't know which playdough set you want? Out of stock. You want a kids meal type of food? All ready and served. He's really doing all this for you and wants to spoil you rotten. In exchange for cuddles and some praises of course!

Like I said before, he doesn't want your activities while being little to be quitet and dull. So he bought every single game that suitable at your little self's age and very fun for him. Get ready, because you're going to have a bomb of a time with him!

You could potentially be taller than him but he's going to pick you up and doing little circles like you're an actual baby. He'll coo you and everything, he makes the experience like you're actually back in childhood which is an amazing job.

Since there's people in your dorm thanks to the boot camp and he really wants you to be fully and all, he's going to let you be in his room so you can be his little self. Ain't no way some dumb boot camp will stop you from having a fun time with Floyd!

Can you tell that I got a sudden energy boost when writing Floyd's part? Lol~

-𝕸𝖎𝖗𝖎

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst writing #twst fluff #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #twst ace #ace trappola #ace x reader #twst epel #epel felmier #epel x reader #twst deuce #deuce spade #deuce x reader #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #x male reader #male reader

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] (American) College!AU Demon Brothers

Scenario: Headcanons on the demon brothers as college students (specifically in the US because I don’t know how college works elsewhere), their possible majors, career goals, extracurriculars, ~GPA~ and whatever else I could think of + how meet you in college

Note: I’m hoping to do a Part 2 with the Undateables but honestly… we’ll see lol. This is based off something ~A~ and I thought of for our specific university but we’ve made it broad enough to share HAHA this turned out VERY long

- 

Lucifer

Majoring in Political Sciences with a minor in Psychology

Pre-Law-- most likely immigration law or child custody (there’s definitely a backstory here)

Initially went to community college for the first two years to save up money to take care of his younger siblings

Rejected an offer to go to an Ivy League because it was too expensive; if his siblings ever found out they’d be furious that he’d give up on that chance, but he knows he can succeed wherever he goes (and besides, family is first) 

Transferred into a 4-year university his junior year 

Very high GPA-- VERY

In a professional fraternity with Diavolo and Barbatos 

He didn’t think he’d join one either but Diavolo was the vice chair when he transferred in and the president the year after so… ~nepotism?~ and also Lucifer is charming as heck so no surprise he’d get in

Also rooms with Diavolo and Barbatos

Goes to the gym regularly just to keep fit; gets goaded by Diavolo and Satan into joining an IM team with his frat brothers and actual brothers-- probably basketball or flag football

Probably meets you at a interclub council meeting and mutters under his breath how useless the board members are and you overhear 

“Never have I met more incompetent people.”

“Lmao mood”

“!!!”

Keeps sitting next to you at every interclub meeting then after because at least there’s someone that can keep his mind stimulated (thinks you’re hot if you’re competent btw)

If you somehow meet him on campus, he’s the type of guy to put his hand up and pretend he didn’t see you (just kidding, he always ends up saying hi anyways) 

Will Absolutely Lecture You if you are procrastinating on studying especially if your midterm is, like, TOMORROW

Always ends up studying with him because he’s actually focused on studying and glares at you if you get distracted (but hey you get good scores in the end)

Mammon

Majoring in Business Econ/Economics, Minoring in Statistics

(always ends up in the middle of the “is econ a humanities or a STEM major” debate that leaves him left for dead) 

Planning to work in Business as Finance -- probably has been treasurer or finance director for a club; can even see him being a banker if it suits his plans better

Goes to a four-year university

Decent GPA (or Lucifer would absolutely destroy him), and does REALLY well in mathematics classes

Would room with Lucifer and his posse if they all go to the same school 

Probably in a Business Frat as well because he’s pretty charismatic when it comes down to it but  was an RA for some of his years for the free rooming and dining hall privileges 

Is a very chill and understanding RA (as in he smokes weed with you when he’s off-duty) but is surprisingly well-versed in dealing with roommate issues

Works part-time (gasp) to buy stuff off of Amazon and go out to places 

Spends a lot of time exploring places with his friends, going hiking, rock-climbing, clubbing-- which is expensive, as it turns out, so he needed to be able to afford it somehow

Meets you when you’re eating your lunch outside somewhere and he asks you if you have a dollar he could borrow for a vending machine snack

You exchange numbers with him so he can pay it back (even though you honestly don’t really need it, but why not) and turns out he’s in your GE class

“Heyyy wassup! So glad I have a friend in this class” 

“Oh by the way, did you finish the homework? Haha, I forgot it.” 

Mammon always repays you for your help in food though so you aren’t complaining

Leviathan

Majoring in Computer Sciences

And honestly that’s too much for me already-- the man is doing computer programming, coding-- WHEW-- and they do NOT rest

Goes to a community college but honestly has no problems cinching internships. The computer is his domain-- online applications are EASY, doing projects NOT as easy, interviews? HARD-- REALLY HARD (someone help him)

Probably intends to work with a big company like Google if only to help supply his income so he can live his life going to AX and buying merch 

Most likely moved out of his house mid-college with his online friends (who are luckily compatible with him living-space wise) and visits home once a week 

There’s two potential sides you can meet first: 

Either you meet him at a convention and you both gush about the same character and anime and somehow find each other online (not college related) 

Or his favorite Ruri-chan keychain gets broken off in the computer lab, and you’re the one running after him to give it him

He may or may not owe you his life after that (and if you enjoy anime, well that’s a bonus)

Both of these meetings can happen if he doesn’t recognize you in class because you were in cosplay-- imagine the surprise

The two of you as friends are MASTER PROCRASTINATORS at every assignment the two of you have-- so low-key not a great influence-- but you have fun together watching animes, playing games, talking about life-- anything but actual work 

Always ends up scrambling to finish things-- but he keeps doing it because it’s been working for him so far

You help him prepare for interviews because he’s always nervous before each one regardless of how well his application looks

Satan

Majoring in Comparative Literature AND Anthropology (ya boy is doing the whole nine yards)

Planning to get his Master’s and then a PhD in one of his majors (whichever proves to be more engaging for him)-- visibly excited to become a Professor

College was meant for Satan-- like REALLY; the man is in LOVE with learning; most likely to go and be accepted to an Ivy-League after Lucifer but... truly believes you can get a good education anywhere so it depends on his financial standing (and how much scholarship he gets)

Does get a little disgruntled when his classes aren’t available but doesn’t mind learning something new-- if the professor bores him to death, he’ll read the book

Really good at tutoring people; someone suggests that he works as a peer-learning facilitator/writing tutor and he does-- might as well make bank doing something you always do anyways   

Joins a writing/journal club as an extracurricular and a club that provides tutoring services to the underserved community-- surprisingly good with kids!

He knows friends in high places, so if he wanted to, could get into any party without batting an eye and his favorite professors love him

Spends a lot of his time going out to the city and exploring places, similarly to Mammon, rock-climbing, hiking, paragliding-- anything

He is VERY well-rounded as you can see; competes with Lucifer to see whose GPA is better though

You probably meet him during office hours, and you can only stare in awe as he asks questions that you had in mind, but better; if you’re visibly confused about something, he’ll take his time to help you too (it’s habit at this point)

Ask him for his contact info and you’ll get it, and maybe repay him in coffee? (You always see him at the cafe on campus.) 

Most likely to have a specific spot in a cafe that he is always at that the workers actually save a spot for him or give him his usual order before he even arrives-- may or may not have helped them edit their essays or with their homework as a thank-you so you KNOW they’ll love him forever

The type of person to help you make flashcards and cram if you need it

Asmodeus

Majoring in Dance and Fine Arts (I HC going to NYU specifically)

Considering going for an Master of Fine Arts degree but he might just move to New York and go for being a Broadway Star

College is mainly just training for him and hoping to land gigs in local theater-- and the university theater if there is one-- and building his resume for his big break 

Has SO many extracurriculars, all pertaining to his career choice, but also because he enjoys what he does: drama, competitive dance team, acapella, fashion design

Makes an unbelievable amount of friends, incredibly good at networking

The first time you saw him was when he was performing for a local theater and you were in love with his performance, and the next time you saw him in the hallway of a classroom building, you told him how much you enjoyed it

Always accepts compliments about his looks with grace, but there’s something about truly being admired for his acting and singing that has him preening

Invites you to come out to his next performance, and if not his, then to another play-- and it can be a date, but up to you ;) 

The man is the KING of Multiple Talents and has big dreams to match 

Always finds a way to hang out with you and drag you to every club that he can use his fake-id for (and when he’s actually 21 and above, gets a little offended that he doesn’t get ID’d) 

A night in the town with you is always a good night! 

Sometimes when he has practical exams coming up, he asks you to watch him perform-- and he likes your compliments but actually takes getting all the moves seriously so you better pay attention!

Most likely to move far away to reach his dreams, but he would take you with him if he could-- his little star

Beelzebub

Majoring in Physiological Sciences

Pre-Nursing or Pre-Sports Medicine 

He’s a little undecided, but he’s definitely going to go into the health field because he likes the idea of being able to use his strength to help others

Gets a scholarship from the university because he’s part of the football team, which is actually pretty hard on him because Fall Semester/Quarter he has to keep skipping classes for games  

Always brings a snack to eat with him during lecture-- and is not afraid to bring his entire lunch and make it right in the front row, though he tends to stick to the back because they tend to have electrical plugs 

You most likely meet him during lecture: he offers you an entire sandwich (not a chip bag, not fruit snacks, an entire LUNCH) because he heard your stomach growl during class 

From then on, you collect notes for him when he’s gone from games and even go to games if you aren’t usually the type to just to see how he’s doing; it’s hard trying to find you among the huge bleachers, but he always asks you where you’re sitting anyways 

Really appreciate it if you help him study into late at night because it IS hard balancing sports and academics 

He most likely doesn’t really have any time for anything else so he usually makes up for it during the rest of the year when training is less to volunteer in the hospital or at the gym as a personal trainer 

If you ask him to teach you how to properly lift weights, he’ll definitely help out and the both of you can work out together-- though you feel bad when he has to add four extra weights to each side after you finish your reps

Belphegor

Majoring in Computer Graphics/Animation

Intending to go into making animation or game design-- is one of the brothers who doesn’t really know exactly what he wants to do yet because he’s afraid that doing what he loves as a job will ruin it for him

His family reassures him that they’ll support him whether or not he continues with his path in life, but he’s considering art school and then taking internships in places so he has a better idea on what he wants

Most likely to sell his own original work and become a full-time artist regardless

I think you already know how you meet him-- he’s sleeping in a lecture hall-- either against the wall or on the small piece of wood they call a desk when class ends and he’s still sleeping; and you wake him up 

Sleepily thanks you and continues to sleep through every class that you wake him up to; when you ask him why he doesn’t just go home and sleep, he tells you he’s too lazy to walk back and forth from his dorm/apartment to campus (mood) 

When you add each other on Snapchat or something, he sends you pics of ‘places to nap’ on campus

You always end up studying together because he’s actually pretty good at understanding lecture stuff despite not being awake for most of it-- apparently he’s used to teaching himself 

Will make you art for your birthday and will vehemently refuse payment so he just tells you to take him out for dinner instead 

If you talk about how you’re not sure on what you want to do in life too, he’ll probably say ‘mood’ but is most likely to encourage you to do whatever you want to do in life too 

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date? #ngl i would date beel in this au 100%

[sheerfreesia007]

You’re Absolutely Terrifying

Title: You’re Absolutely Terrifying

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007​​

Words: 1,875

Warnings: Fluff, Injury, Cursing

Teen Wolf Tag List: @linkpk88​, @pure-ghost​

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711​, @fioccodineveautunnale​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Author Notes: Yay some Teen Wolf fic! This one was inspired by the Cinderella gif below. I love me some Stiles! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

Gif Credit: Google

         Soft music was playing in the background as you lay on top of Stiles’ bed going through old books on ritualistic killings, different books laid out on the bedspread around you opened up to different pages as you wrote anything you came across that sounded promising in your notebook. Your eyes widened slightly at the drawings that were in the book you were currently looking at. They showed depictions of the actual killings and you quickly turned the page over to curb the bile rising in your stomach.

         “You alright over there?” Stiles asks as he moves to sit on the floor in front of the bed next to where your face is. You lift your head to look at him and smile softly. 

         “Yeah totally. I normally spend my Friday nights researching ritualistic killings and staring at horrific depictions of those killings.” you respond sarcastically with a grin and Stiles scoffs at you softly as he rolls his eyes.

         “You and me both.” he quips back and you laugh softly as you tilt your head at him.

         “For some reason I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.” you say curiously and he grins over at you as he gets the book he’s looking through situated on his lap. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest at his grin and the way his eyes follow you closely. Ever since you met Stiles back in the third grade he’s been one of your best friends, the other being Scott McCall. And once Scott was bitten by Peter and developed his werewolf problem you and Stiles have been beside him step by step. You and Stiles were the research gurus of the little trio you formed. While Stiles was more the detective you were more the librarian of the two. Stiles had been quite impressed by how easily it was for you to be able to find information on any topic and how quickly you were able to research it and take notes that helped him and Scott.

         And while you were a key asset to the two young men in your life, there was just something about the way they viewed you you wished would change. Especially with Stiles. For the longest time you had been harboring the hugest crush on him and unfortunately he didn’t seem to reciprocate it.

         “Ha, ha, ha. You got jokes huh?” Stiles says as he peers over the bed at the book that you’re looking at.

         “Only for you Stilinski.” you quip back at him and the grin that falls on his face is almost blinding. You blush softly and look back down at the book you’re researching and begin to get lost in the words and knowledge it stores. You’re so deep into your reading that you don’t come out of it until you see Stiles stand up from his spot on the floor. He’s frowning as he looks towards his open bedroom door. You tilt your head at him curiously wondering what he’s doing when you hear it, the sound of floorboard creaking is heard from downstairs. Your eyes snap over to Stiles and see him already moving to the bedroom door. “Stiles? Wait!” you called out as you tried to scramble off the bed. 

         Slipping in the blanket on his bed you fell to the floor with a crash, slamming your shoulder into the floor with a groan. You tried to get to your feet quickly but it wasn’t quick enough as you saw Stiles grab the metal baseball bat at the side of his door and then quickly rushed out shutting the door behind him. Your eyes widened as you heard the soft click and knew that he locked you in by way of that stupid little keyhole that he never got replaced. Who in their right mind would still have a door with a keyhole? 

         “Stiles! No wait!” you cried out as you finally got to your feet and got to the bedroom door. You desperately tried to open it tugging on the door knob to no avail. You slammed your closed fist into the door and screamed loudly in frustration. Panic was quickly consuming your body and you tried to tame it but the thought that he had just gone out there with any protection besides a bat was fueling the panic. “Stiles! Please! Come back! You have to come back!” you screamed as your fist kept pounding on the door.

         Suddenly you heard a crashing noise from downstairs and the panic, desperation and fear that was slowly trying to choke you was now drowning you. You screamed as loudly as you could and kept slamming your fist against the door. Suddenly you remembered his window rushing over to it you quickly unlatched it and slid it open. In your hurried panic state you had already gotten one leg over the windowsill before you heard the lock click on the door and the door slowly opened.

         Your brain wasn’t thinking as you slid your leg back into the room and rushed the door. Slamming it closed on whoever was on the other side you heard their groan and you used that to your advantage as you whipped the door open and cocked back your arm letting your fist fly. Your fist connected with a face and when you looked up you stared wide eyed at Isaac Lahey who was now groaning and holding his bleeding nose. Chest heaving you tried to make sense of what you were looking at and Isaac just stared at you in shock.

         “What the fuck!?” he snapped suddenly and you shook your head quickly.

         “Where’s Stiles?” you asked in a rush and Isaac looked over his shoulder.

         “Downstairs with Scott.” Isaac answered.

         “Sorry for breaking your nose. You’ll heal. I have to go kill someone though.” you said without any breath as you pat Isaac on the chest and moved around him. He stood there for a moment still holding his hand over his nose before he whipped his head to your retreating form.

         “You have to what?!” he called as he chased after you. 

         You were breathing heavily with emotion as you processed that if Isaac and Scott were here then Stiles was safe. All of your emotions were still coursing through you and you tried to slow your breathing but it wasn’t working. He had left you to go do something stupid. You could have lost him because of his stupidity. Tears began to pool in your eyes as your thoughts raced and you made your way down the stairs. 

         Scott stood with Stiles in the living room watching over someone who laid on the ground with their hands tied behind their back. Scott noticed you first as his head snapped over to look at you. You could hear Isaac coming down the stairs behind you but your main focus was on the tall gangly young man who was just hanging up his phone. You didn’t think as you moved and before Scott could grab you you had shoved Stiles up against the wall as your breathing picked up again.

         “Whoa!” Stiles said shocked as his back hit the wall and you pointed a finger in his face.

         “Shut up Stilinski! I am so close to murdering you it’s not even funny.” you snapped at him and watched as his eyes widened. His hands slowly came up in a gesture of surrender and you released him so that you could begin to pace. Scott and Isaac stood close by but gave you room to process through whatever it was that was going on with you. “Did you even think before you acted just now? Was it really worth it to go against this idiot by yourself?!” you asked rhetorically as you paced. Your hands flew in the air as you asked each question and when you looked over at Stiles with a sharp turn of your head you saw him watching you silently. 

         You took him in quickly and saw that he had a bruise forming on his right cheek bone and what looked like a cut under his left. But for all intents and purposes he looked like he was going to be okay. You shook your head as tears began to pool in your eyes again as you stood and stared at him. His body jolted away from the wall when he saw the tears in your eyes.

         “You left me up there when I could’ve helped you.” you cried to him as you flung your arms out from your body. “It’s you and me Stiles, we have to have each others’ backs! We don’t have the supernatural gifts that the others have.” Tears began to fall from your eyes and you watched as Stiles began to approach you. “I thought the absolute worst was happening to you because you decided to play hero. I-” you began to say and suddenly gasped as your mind raced with your horrifying thoughts. “I thought I was losing you.” you finished softly as Stiles came to stand in front of you his amber eyes gazing at you softly as his arms came up and hugged you close.

         “You’ll never lose me.” he promised softly as he held you close.

         “I fucking hope not you asshole.” you grumbled out to him as you buried your face in his chest and hugged him tightly. “I’m pretty sure I’d do worse than give Isaac a bloody nose if I lost you.” You heard Stiles chuckle softly as he rested his chin on your head and pulled in closer.

         “I didn’t know I meant that much to you.” he confessed softly to you and you pulled back with a jerk glaring up at him.

         “I love you dickhead. I’m in love with you. Of course you mean that much to me.” you snapped at him angrily. Silence fell over the four of you as Stiles stared down at you with adoring eyes. Scott was grinning from ear to ear happy that finally you had said something to his best friend. Isaac was just staring at you like he was terrified of you and kept inching closer to Scott.

         “I’m in love with you too.” Stiles said softly as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You hummed softly against his lips before pulling away harshly, Stiles lips still hung over your in a pout.

         “I’m still mad at you for being a hero.” you gripped out and Scott laughed loudly making both you and Stiles to smile over at him. Stiles leaned down and brushed his nose against your ear softly.

         “Let me make it up to you.” he whispered into your ear and you titled your head away from him while you looked over at him.

         “Maybe.” you said with a soft smile.

         “Remind me to never piss you off.” Isaac said suddenly as Stiles wrapped his arms around your middle when you turned to face Isaac and Scott. “You’re absolutely terrifying for a human.” he finished and all of you burst into laughter. Stiles leaned down and nuzzled his face into your neck pressing a soft kiss there and you hummed softly again.

#my writing #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf

[atltexts]

(1-0) THE CONTROVERSIAL SIGH OF RELIEF

OK... good morning

I can’t believe I have to seriously explain why this is not a r*pe score, but here we go 🥴

I was there the day BVH was exonerated in April. Waiting for the outcome, I stayed up all night, making sure I would be available if anything bad were to come of this. This wasn’t anything new for me. When the letter came in, BVH immediately broke down in tears. At first, I didn’t know what he was feeling and asked him a number of times what it said. I couldn’t make what he was saying, then he just kept repeating “not guilty, not guilty”

We really thought this nightmare would be over from there. This was a huge sigh of relief and as anyone would, BVH felt intense emotion in that moment.

PRECURSOR FOR CONTEXT: BVH was not a religious person prior to any of this, but on December 15 2020, he suffered from his first sleep paralysis episode. Sleep paralysis is more prone to happen to a person when they are either under immense pressure or are deeply depressed. He felt a malign presence in his bedroom & his knee-jerk reaction was to immediately start praying Psalm 91. When this happened, all the noise around him subsided, the presence left, and he was able to gain control over his body again. Since that day, he has prayed the rosary every night before going to sleep. This gave him hope, something to believe in.

CELEBRATING INNOCENCE? THANKING GOD? NOT ON MY WATCH, BUCKO: Just like how his knee-jerk reaction was to pray to banish the sleep paralysis influence, his knee-jerk reaction to being exonerated was to publicly praise god. He asked me “should I write this?” And i paused, thinking it was a little strange, but I also didn’t want to ruin his moment, so I said yes. It was benign! What could possibly happen!!

He was immediately kicked out of the group after a girl weaponized his religion to call him ugly (67+ students liked this!). Another girl wrote “finally,” and comments continued from there. Of course, everyone but BVH got off the hook and BVH was penalized for being “unprofessional.”

Not only was he penalized for being “unprofessional”, but he was also penalized for being happy! “How dare you be happy the day your accuser lost, you should feel sadness and remorse!!!” Yup… he had to go through empathy coaching for this. Wish I was kidding.

BEWILDERING INTERPRETATIONS: We later found out that this was misinterpreted as a r*pe score. “He’s saying he did it before and he will do it again.” Initially, there weren’t that many complaints (maybe 2-3), but when these students instructed other students to do the same, the number obviously increased greatly. So far, over 30 complaints have been filed — while the initial ones were about the Title IX investigation & the Group Me post, the last handful of them said “I don’t care if she couldn’t prove it, I know something bad happened.”

GLOATING SHMOATING: That night, the school sent a mass e-mail to all students about “gloating over the misfortunes of others”, but as they usually do, they denied this. I guess there are just that many coincidences, even though they themselves accused him of… ‘gloating’ over the misfortunes of others.

THE COURTEOUS ADMINISTRATOR: Also that night, BVH got a separate e-mail from an administrator demanding they have an urgent meeting. On this “courtesy call” as the administrator called it, he told BVH to “watch himself” and abruptly hung up on him. BVH was literally just chilling. At least BVH got his 5 minutes of relief before the distortion campaign got stronger over his praise for God, I suppose.

QUESTIONABLE PETITIONS: Soon after, the student leadership wrote & circulated a petition for “the expulsion of (BVH)”. I don’t hold it against the people who I signed it. Not knowing the depth of the situation, it’s understandable and also scary to be seated in a classroom with someone you think is unsafe to be around. In the petition, they suggest BVH is a narcissist (it really said “narcissist” in it), further and deliberately spreading more misinformation. They write that he is too unprofessional to become a physician and was “accused of gender-based violence”. Even though BVH wrote literally nothing about the Title IX investigation, this petition states that he is, again, “gloating over the misfortunes of others,” that he’s deliberately trying to intimidate, share people’s private information, abuse social media, lacks empathy, and “implicit threat of future abuse.” None of this is true (and it’s all written like it’s fact — which is pretty unprofessional). Just some more malicious fabrications in attempts to get him kicked out. It also says “reports of comments that devalue his peers” which, as someone who knows him well, I highly doubt is true. He cares too much about his education to put his peers down. The petition proceeds to say “gender-based violence cannot be tolerated”, suggesting their own opinions are fact, further strengthening the distortion campaign. Given the way the petition was carefully written, I don’t blame people for trusting student leadership and taking it seriously. They also say, as though it is fact, that the school’s inaction is jeopardizing BVH’s future patients…. Anyway, I’ll bite my tongue & move on.

MORE TRIALS, BEFORE MORE TRIALS. WHY NOT: The school sent him to the pious court of the medical school for a second trial. He had to explain the story of why he posted the Group Me comment, and for the 3rd time he was exonerated, but it didn’t end there… To this day, the Committee on Students is still having periodic hearings most recently because his empathy coaching as about “having empathy i ngeneral, not about the Group Me post specifically.” Why he needs empathy coaching, or why it’s called “empathy coaching” is beyond me.

OVEREXERTING BVH, HE MUST PAY FOR BEING BULLIED! MAKES SENSE TO ME: The medical school refused to accept the Title IX decision so they did an additional review of the investigation report of the title IX process. He has been assigned to do multiple assignments, attend multiple meetings, to the point that, with the added stress, I don’t think any other student would be capable of doing. He was barely granted an extension for his schoolwork or any accommodations for that matter. BVH doesn’t matter to them, they only do what benefits ATL (post with proof pending… there’s a lot to uncover). They even changed the rules of an assignment on him after he had submitted a really nice paper, so he had to write a new one.

IGNORING EMOTIONAL NEEDS DESPITE FILING “CARE” REPORTS!: The medical school is still, to this day, giving him an extremely hard time. I am a person with a physical disability & I had to drop out of school to be BVH’s support system to do what the medical school should have done. I am deteriorating by the day and this is how I am spending my life. I have read many books to BVH, teaching him meditation & mindfulness. I have found him the absolute best puppy I could find to help him cope. I have cried with him (makes the puppy cry too). I have been available every day to witness and experience this with him, and believe me when I say, every day a new issue arises. And believe me when I also say…. BVH is extremely careful, has done nothing but kept to himself & follow given instructions (other than quitting his dream to become a physician). I have called the school and spoke to several different professionals, begging that someone AT LEAST provides him an ounce of emotional support. I even filed an elaborate concern form (CARE report) I found on the CWRU website. All without BVH’s knowledge I’ve been trying to make things happen for him behind the scenes. Again, they know he is in pain. I can’t work, and I can’t afford to eat or pay rent on my own — I should be focusing on starting a business, but all my energy is going into making things right for BVH, because, yes, he genuinely has it worse. That’s what friends are for! I am not trying to victimize myself (anonymous person here). He never once asked me to do any of the things I’ve done. If anything, he feels guilty that I am still by his side. Without pay, I am doing their job full time while being bedridden and in excruciating pain. I am overwhelmed, anxious, exhausted, and disappointed that the school does not stand by the values they claim to have… if I feel this way, if this is the only thing I can think about, imagine how BVH feels.

EMPLOYEES WHO HAVE NO CONTROL OVER THE SITUATION, PLEASE DO NOT FEEL GUILTY: I know that most of the staff feels for BVH. I don’t blame the staff who deals with BVH directly. I blame whoever is giving them these instructions. The person who is being CC’d on all the e-mails even though he chose to ‘step out of the situation’. Most likely, he will try to pin my actions on BVH, because that’s how the hierarchy of this school works. This is why no one can say anything, we’re all afraid that if we stand up for BVH it is going to hurt his education — BVH is even afraid to ask a question in class because he could literally sneeze and surely someone will google “the meaning of sneezes” to find a way to twist things, and the school will penalize him (totally OK for someone to call him ‘scum of the earth’ while he’s leading a discussion though). I don’t get why this man has such a hard on for BVH (with peace & love), and I’ll leave it at that.

#1-0 #CWRU maltreatment #exoneration #highlights

[kimpson]

My name is James kim.

This Is How I Came To Know What I Now Know, That I Am helping patients all over the world. Am putting this down now because I have had allot of patients asked how I do came about this protocol.

feel grateful to be able to tell my story that will make you aware of my background and how I arrived here.

Like so many people, I was scared, tearful and very distraught after my mother received her cancer diagnosis. Over the next 6-12 months the medical establishment tried, but nothing the doctors had to offer appeared to stop the metastasized cancer from taking over her entire body. She did what research she could about terms like; how to get rid of cancer naturally, holistic treatments and cures for metastasized cancer, and alternative cancer treatments that work.

Sadly, she never found anything that she thought would work for her.

My Father also had a real scare with a cancerous left kidney. His cancer hadn’t metastasized so his Doctors removed the kidney and he has been fine ever since. Then a day that I hoped would never come, came.

My mother said she did not think she was going to survive her cancer, the thought of which left me terrified and petrified thinking I was going to lose my mother to cancer.

Worse yet, the thought of her spending her last days in a hospice bed paralyzed me with fear and left me wanting to do nothing more than to curl up in a corner somewhere.

But instead of feeling sorry for myself and wanting to do what I could to save my mother, I chose to spend my time Googling terms like; how to cure stage 4 cancer naturally, natural lung cancer cures, natural treatment for lung cancer, natural cure for lung cancer, natural remedies for lung cancer and a whole bunch more.

My wife saw me doing these online searches, and she and the kids pleaded with me to accept the inevitable and to start preparing myself for the worse.

I was a useless wreck!

My Only Options :

(1)Pray, hope and plead while waiting for cancer to kill her

(2)Try to figure out how to slow down or stop her cancer long enough for her to die from old age instead.

As you might have guessed, I chose option 2 and then I aggressively launched a mission to save her life. Fear and desperation are probably two of the greatest motivators there are.

Available on the web were tons of books and hundreds of websites offering anywhere from a single product that cures every disease mankind has ever known, including those trying to tell you how to get rid of cancer naturally. To even more websites offering “2-299 guaranteed surefire alternative lung cancer treatments using the root from some plant that is only found in the Amazon Rain Forest or on a mountain top somewhere in India.

Common sense and research told me that all of these were a waste of time.

Common Sense and Research

Let me be brutally honest with you. I found no magic pill or secret drug out there that could cure cancer or keep her alive.

Especially after you’ve done multiple rounds of chemo and/or radiation. Odds are it’s over! Close the shades, update your will, finalize your funeral arrangements, and kiss your family and friends goodbye. I was seeing this first hand with my mother, and the saddest part is that the only certain thing is WHEN and not IF she would succumb to the cancer metastasis.

Many times I wanted to give up on finding a solution. I had almost come to terms with the reality that she’d be dead in 6 Months. I went through a gamut of emotions like fear, anxiety, dread and anger. But I channeled those emotions and went about the work of saving her.

Please allow me the pleasure of sharing with you the ” Eureka” moment when everything all came together. What I found is:

I quickly concluded that after many decades of waging war on cancer there had to be legitimate, valid and credible studies that revealed an effective alternative cancer treatment protocol.

After hundreds, if not thousands of hours of searching the web and reading hundreds of these research studies, my hard work and relentless efforts were rewarded.

I found several studies that had been rigorously peer-reviewed and which were supported by hundreds more rigorously reviewed university studies. What all of these studies did was to put together for me a genuine, scientifically validated treatment program that was virtually certain, at a minimum, to stop her cancer metastasis in its tracks, if not outright cure it!

The researchers declared this treatment as, likely to be “more successful than current approaches because it is based on the principles of evolutionary biology and metabolic control analysis” and that it could truly be an alternative cancer treatment and cure.

So if you needed an:

-alternative breast cancer treatment

-alternative prostate cancer treatment

-alternative pancreatic cancer treatment

-alternative liver cancer treatment

Then this is your ticket to a real chance to treat and beat your disease!

However, I like to be as close to 100% sure as I can get. So I looked at how The American Cancer Society (ACS) evaluates mainstream and alternative cancer treatments.

They do this by asking three questions:

1) Has the method been objectively demonstrated in the peer-reviewed scientific literature to be effective?

2) Has the method shown potential for benefit that exceeds the potential for harm?

3) Have objective studies been correctly conducted under appropriate peer review to answer these questions?

Fortunately, I was able to answer all those questions with a resounding YES! Every single piece of knowledge reinforced my belief that this truly would give me a great chance at keeping her alive especially since current mainstream protocols like surgery, chemo, and radiation had failed her.

The Well-Known Secret is Finally Available

It’s not a secret that Big Pharma makes some very vicious business decisions. So it should be fairly easy to see there is not a Big Pharma business person that would spend millions to educate MDs or the General Public about a cheap and effective treatment protocol. Even if it has been scientifically validated by elite research scientists time and time again. Just because it has zero potential to add to Big Pharma’s already massive net profits.

But what I learnt earn is the findings scientists have known about for decades.

That you stand an outstanding chance of defeating cancer if not outright curing it, IF the right protocol is used.

What your cancer cells need to kill you, are the nutrients (glucose and secondarily glutamine) that the blood vessels bring to them so that they can continue to grow and metastasize. Because cancer in and of itself won’t kill you. It is the ongoing and uncontrolled growth of cancer that eventually overwhelms your body and kills you.

So the key to not dying from cancer is to be able to slow down or kill enough cancer cells so that they don’t overrun your body.

Research scientists have known and proven this over and over again for decades. This protocol teaches you the specific details of what to do so that you can effectively starve cancer and then eradicate it while ensuring that your normal cells remain very healthy. And the best part is, this protocol does it very quickly, cheaply and most importantly very EFFECTIVELY!

The 70+years of clinical science that supports it, is overwhelming.

If you have cancer of any origin, no matter how aggressive it is, or even if it has metastasized, YOU DON’T have to be DEAD too soon.

Quite the contrary, you will have a plan, that is a whole body and systemic protocol that will suffocate, starve, poison and kill cancer anywhere in the body. It matters not if it has been declared untreatable cancer. Metastasized or still localized. It doesn’t matter the origin (lung, breast, liver, pancreas, etc).

You Won’t Have to Worry to Death Anymore

#science #medicine #cancer #regenerative medicine #stem cells #leukemia #lymphoma #bone marrow transplant #gene therapy #molecular biology #cell biology #aging #academic medicine #ucsd #good news