#notepad++ compare two files

[quicktimeeventfull]

scrivener has like ten billion features btw and here a few that i personally find useful or just fun, since they're not immediately obvious:

snapshots: allows you to save a version of any document & compare it to new versions, or restore them if you wish. it's in the right sidebar under the camera icon

side-by-side editing: lifesaver. allows you to see and edit two documents side by side. left click on any document and pick open > in other editor

quick reference: pops any document out into its own window. it's editable as usual. left click any document and pick open > as quick reference

scratchpad: a notepad, shared across all scrivener files. pick window > show scratchpad or click the scratchpad icon on the top bar

icon changes: this is SO useful if you need to differentiate the actual story from extra material/formatting/etc. left click on any document icon in the sidebar, click change icon.

exclude documents in compile: the compile feature lets you select which documents you want to compile, but this gets wildly inconvenient if you have a significant number of them. to get around this, click into filters when you're compiling and select EXCLUDED documents, then deselect the documents you want. compile as usual & it'll give you the correct ones

find by formatting: i just discovered this and its SUCH a timesaver when making ao3-compatible versions. it's under edit > find by formatting

linguistic focus: highlights parts of speech (nouns, verbs etc.) honestly i don't use this often but it's fun & it's something i've heard a lot of writers interested in. it's under edit > writing tools > linguistic focus.

[76istracersdad]

plants - 3.2k words, incomplete

ft. a lot of jack comparing himself to lena and feeling guilty about it, speculation about the slipstream & overwatch's involvement in it, and government coverups

hi all - i figured i'd start posting some of the fic i've written over the years to make this a better archive. note - none of these are complete :(

this one is titled just "plants" and was written late 2020. i think i was aiming for an overarching theme of perennials vs annual plants (ie ones that last and ones that die to put it bluntly) thus some of the plant based commentary.

only change i've made is cassidy's name.

Lena Oxton is, by far, the best candidate for the Slipstream. Her test scores are perfect across the board, her commanding officers give glowing reviews of her abilities and all mention her natural aptitude for taking on challenges, and leadership abilities that shine despite her position as a non-commissioned officer. Despite the flight program not technically being under Jack Morrison’s command, he is currently the highest ranking officer in Switzerland right now, and Director Petras wants to give this ace pilot a warm welcome. And neither he nor Ana Amari, his second-in-command and the woman sitting directly to his right, know anything about this mysterious pilot.

“They didn’t even give us her age,” Ana comments idly, legs crossed at the ankles and fingers tapping on the table. “She could be older than you, Jack.”

“I thought you said that was impossible?” Jack tosses back, smirking a bit despite the uncomfortable situation they’re both in. First meetings in any military-esque organization are rarely actually first impressions, due to the personnel files stored on anyone who’s ever so much as sneezed on a recruiter. He runs a hand through his grey hair, thinning and receding at the front. Ana’s has gone grey as well. Gabe, the lucky bastard, is the only one out of the three of them to even have a hint of his original hair color left, and he shaves most of it off and sticks a beanie on top just to spite them.

Jack’s pulled out of his musings by the sound of a knock on the office door, and he and Ana stand up straight. “Come on in,” Jack says, a little unprofessional and hits the button to open the door.

Lena Oxton is, in fact, not older than Jack or Ana. Ana stiffens a bit next to Jack when she sees the younger girl, smiling wide and walking confidently in RAF service dress, two chevrons on her arms denoting corporal rank. Her hat is tucked underneath her arm, and the sergeant who walked her here nods and salutes to Jack. Jack nods back at him, and he takes his leave. It’s a meeting just between the corporal and Overwatch, after all.

“Good morning Strike-Commander Morrison, Captain Amari,” Lena Oxton says, maybe out of turn but her eagerness and the sharp salute she gives them, all with a cheerful grin on her face, makes Jack let it go.

“At ease, Corporal,” Jack says, waving his hand and motioning towards a chair across the table from him and Ana. Ana is still silent next to him, and it’s only from years of service together does he know that she’s silently furious. He hasn’t let himself feel any anger yet, and instead pulls a notepad out from underneath the limited files he has on Oxton. Clicking his pen once, he gives her a small smile and says, “I have to say, you’re not exactly who we were expecting.”

Lena smiles wider, back straight but legs kicking in the seat a bit. “I get that a lot,” she admits, tilting her head. Her hair is short, obviously growing back out from a buzzcut, and is already beginning to show signs of wildness. It makes Jack wonder how recently she got out of basic training.

Ana’s one step ahead of him as she asks, “When did you become a corporal?”

“Earlier this year,” Lena answers. Ana frowns, and Lena’s posture becomes nervous, looking between Ana’s own displeased face and Jack’s clearly shocked one. “They streamlined me, sir, they said because of natural aptitude. I’m far from the youngest enlisted.”

“How old are you?” Jack asks, a bit afraid of the answer. The RAF would know better than to send them a child. Cassidy was strictly kept off the battlefield and not given an official position until six months after he turned eighteen, all at Reyes’ hand. Even then, it made them all uneasy. Jack and Gabe knew too much about being selected for a special program when they were too young to understand everything that was going on behind the scenes, blinded by patriotism and the concept of being special. They were eighteen then, too.

“Eighteen, sir, as of a few months ago,” Lena replies, grin gone and face now matching the solemn feeling of the room, although she doesn’t seem to understand it. She looks as if she wants to argue for her case, prove her worthiness, tell them to give her a chance and let her show her skills, thinking they might reject her because of naivety. Neither of them doubt her skills, though, and neither does Director Petras, who all but ordered Jack to approve this girl for the Slipstream.

The rest of the interview goes normally, with Oxton thanking them effusively when Jack tells her the position is hers. Jack knows this was all orchestrated over their heads when she tells him the RAF already shipped her belongings over to Zurich. They insist on walking Oxton over to her new quarters, where her room is designated by a fresh new nameplate and a singular cardboard box on the desk inside.

“Wicked,” she says, looking around the room, and then turning back to them and saluting crisply. “I’ll do my best here, Strike-Commander, Captain!” She promises, and Jack just nods and gives her a thin smile as he and Ana walk away. It’s not until they’re in Jack’s office again does Ana speak.

“She’s younger than Fareeha when she left home, for goodness’ sake!” Ana yells, Jack sitting in the office chair and looking thoughtfully at the personnel files. Mysteriously, they only showed up when Jack had approved Oxton for the Slipstream position. Ana reads them over his shoulder, flipping the page before he finishes, making him look up at her, annoyed.

“Listen to this. Lena Oxton, age eighteen. Applied for the Royal Air Force when she was fifteen, Jack. Fifteen. Enlisted as early as she possibly could.”

Jack rubs at his eyes tiredly, already resigned to the whole situation. Petras already strong armed everyone into it, and it seems like he has the backing of the United Kingdom.

“I know that, Jack.” Was he speaking out loud? “What I’m saying is, she’s maybe not the youngest person to ever be drafted for Overwatch, she is the youngest one enlisted on base right now.” Ana frowns, sitting down on the desk across from Jack and sighing. “I just don’t like it.”

“Me neither. But it seems like it's gone above our heads, again,” Jack grumbles, running a hand through his hair again and leaning back in the chair. “Best we can do is offer a support system. Maybe introduce her to Cassidy.”

The conversation switches to a less disheartening topic, from the new recruit to old friends and their new updates. After an hour or so, Ana excuses herself to go to dinner, chiding Jack lightly and reminding him to eat. After threatening to set Angela on him, she leaves, the door shutting quietly behind her. Jack gathers up Lena Oxton’s scattered files and reviews them again, this time without Ana grabbing the papers out of his hands.

The majority of it is test results in more detail, seemingly to justify choosing Oxton over a more experienced candidate. They even included her high school transcript, which shows a fairly average student before it stops abruptly, replaced with military academy grades. It shouldn’t surprise him. The United Kingdom had increased their recruitment rates for the Omnic Crisis and continued to take on new recruits after it ended.

At the very end of the file are photos from various points of Oxton’s career. The most recent was only taken a few days ago, Oxton giving a half-smile at the camera. The oldest two are most striking, however. They seem to show a before-and-after: in the before, Lena Oxton scowls at the camera, head half-shaved and hair dyed white. The after shows her, still scowling, in a military academy uniform with a nearly-bare head. The pictures give him more insight into Oxton than any of her official records do.

Jack makes a note to himself to talk to Lena Oxton before she leaves the base for the Slipstream project. 

--

Of course, he never gets that opportunity. It isn’t until a week after the Slipstream incident that Jack gets to read the report. One pilot missing in action. One teleportation matrix currently being searched for. The scientists note that the chances of finding the matrix are likely, due to the magnetic fields or whatever the technobabble is, but that the fate of Lena Oxton is completely unknown.

“It’s none of your concern, Commander Morrison,” Director Petras tells him over the phone. “Research and development isn’t your jurisdiction.”

Jack grits his teeth. “I understand that, Director.”

“Great. I know I don’t need to remind you that the Slipstream project is highly classified. As such, our official stance is that there was no experimental flight program, no test flights, and no missing pilots. Understand?”

Jack stays silent as he thinks. He thinks about a twenty year-old young man laying in a hospital bed in a classified military hospital. He thinks about the way the injections made him feel like he was burning from the inside out. He thinks about seeing doctors wheeling covered bodies to the morgue, whispering about another failed subject. He thinks about being told to never speak of it again.

“Of course, Director,” Jack says, and the phone line goes dead.

He hasn’t forgotten the lifeless bodies in the beds next to him. He doubts he’ll forget Lena Oxton, either.

--

They recover Slipstream’s flight recorder two weeks after the crash, one week after the gag order is placed. In the audio recorded by the cockpit voice recorder, Lena Oxton speaks clearly and confidently, reporting all signals normal.

“Order received,” she says, her voice tinny. “Activating teleportation matrix in fifteen seconds.” And then, almost too quiet for the recorder to pick up, Oxton says, “This ought to be fun!”

A few moments pass before Oxton speaks up again and announces the activation of the teleportation matrix. Harsh static follows, and the recording ends.

Morrison isn’t sure if the hint of a scream before the static is real or just his guilty conscience.

--

Lena Oxton was never a part of Overwatch, officially, so Jack Morrison has no flags to place over caskets and no next of kin to inform - not that Oxton had any, he remembers grimly.

There were no flags or ceremony for Soldier: 75, the teenager in the bed next to him who cried out in the night, whose bed was empty when Soldier: 76 woke up in the morning. Jack hadn’t even known his name. He hadn’t even thought of him for decades.

That night, when he sleeps, he dreams of the soldier enhancement program for the first time in years. In his dreams, Lena Oxton is wheeled out of Jack’s room, her still body covered by a white sheet. The doctors tell him not to think about it, tell him that the bed next to him was always empty. The doctors tell him to forget.

--

Ana brings it up first, when they’re sitting alone in his office. Jack has his hands folded and pressed against his face. Someone who didn’t know him would assume he was praying.

“We failed her,” Ana says. Jack doesn’t look up. “What are you going to do about it, Jack?”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Jack replies without looking up. “She accepted the position. She knew the risks. This is what happens in war.” 

“I know that. It doesn’t make it any less wrong,” Ana retorts. She’s been a soldier longer than he has. There’s another long pause.

“After I had Fareeha, I fought so she wouldn’t have to,” Ana says. “I thought that she could grow up in a time of peace. I hoped that she would become something - anything besides a soldier. I failed her too.”

“Fareeha made her own decision. She knew the risks. This is what happens in war, Ana -” Jack repeats, but Ana cuts him off.

“What war, Jack? What war are we fighting?” Ana stands and moves to leave. “The Crisis is over. You and I and Gabe each have the medals to prove it. So why are our kids soldiers?” She hesitates by the door. “We failed them, Jack.”

The door slides shut behind her. 

--

Lena Oxton doesn’t let any of them forget her.

The Slipstream’s teleportation matrix is found after months of searching, with some reclusive new signals expert named Winston apparently being the one to pinpoint its location. Within a week of its return, the scientists note chronal anomalies surrounding it and place it in an asymptotically timelike chamber in the Swiss base specially designed during the beginning of the Slipstream experiments. 

Jack takes a moment to scrub at his eyes, squints at the page, and skims over the next few dozen lines of equations. He respects the scientists, but he wishes he knew how to ask them to dumb their reports down without coming across as dismissive. He flips the page and begins to skim over the paragraphs when he reads:

Upon reactivation of the chamber, the pilot previously assumed killed in action, Lena Oxton - callsign Tracer - reappeared, though she exhibited many anomalies that could not completely be contained by the chamber. 

Five more pages of analysis follow. The report concludes by stating that Dr. Ziegler and the scientist from earlier, Winston, have been assigned to her case.

Jack goes back and rereads the paragraph. He rereads it again.

“Athena, where is the, ah, asymptomatic timelike chamber?” He asks out loud.

“The asymptotic time chamber is located on level 2B, wing E,” Athena replies.

Jack sprints the entire way there.

--

---

They make her speak at his funeral in Arlington.

He’s watching from a distance, hacked into some security livestream via drone, less than a mile from the actual thing. All the old heroes of Overwatch, the ones alive, anyways, are gathering around his grave. The sun is shining brightly. He can see Reinhardt sweating in his old Overwatch formal dress. Jack Morrison’s glad it doesn’t rain for his funeral, because it would just be another nail in the empty coffin.

Lena’s been made to speak. It makes sense that they would - the funeral is popularized by the media, with Overwatch’s downfall and the scandals that led up to the explosion, why wouldn’t it be? He wonders where she’s going after the Petras Act, the heroic law that saves the world from any other superheroes trying to do good and fucking up the planet more than it already is, goes into effect. For now, she’s still the golden child, the posterboy of Overwatch, for better or for worse. He’s read his own slander. He can’t bring himself to read anyone else’s.

“He was an excellent commander.” A goddamn lie. He couldn’t run a military company for his life. Maybe he was charismatic enough on the field, enough of a solid figure in a rapidly shifting war-torn field, to be considered for Strike-Commander, but it blew up in his face. He touches the lesions that are just starting to heal, ugly stripes breaking his facial features. Blew up in his face, alright.

Lena’s never sounded ungenuine in her life. She quips advice sometimes, to whoever she feels needs it at the moment, never sounding haughty or out of line. Even now, when she’s spouting lies that he’s sorry she believes, she has the conviction of someone announcing the sky is blue and the grass is green. “He was a mentor to me, personally, after the Slipstream Incident. I could have gone back to civilian life, but he inspired me. I wanted to make the world a better place. Jack Morrison helped me learn how it could be done.”

He tunes out. Stays on the drone’s line for hours, waiting for anyone to say anything about Gabe. He’s not sure why he cares so much. Morbid curiosity? Looking for revenge? Nothing interesting turns up until it’s late into the night, and the motion-activated camera has been off for hours. Its night vision spins on quickly, and Jack sits up, studying the footage.

There’s a small figure standing in front of his gravestone, a baggy hoodie barely concealing the light of a chronal accelerator. Lena’s changed out of her formalwear and is back in front of Jack’s grave, obviously trying to stay hidden. The drone picks up every word she says, and though he can’t see her face, the tears are obvious in her voice.

“I hate you,” Lena says, voice shaky as she lowers herself to sit on the ground. “...I don’t mean that. I hate...I don’t know what I hate. But I hate this situation, and I hate Director Petras, and,” her voice cracks, but she continues, “I hate that you’re gone.” Silence for a few more moments as she picks at the grass around his grave, then picks up the flowers someone had left there and inspects them. “You would’ve hated these,” she says. “This is an annual. One year and it’s gone.” She picks at the petals absentmindedly, voice still thick. “Y’know, I’m coming up on my first year as an active field agent. Streamlined me so fast, people seem to think I’ve been here for years. I think being new is the only thing that’s keeping me from being demonized in the news, like you.” Jack shakes his head. He deserves what they’re saying about him, and more. But he can’t tell Lena that. She drops the flower and stares ahead at the gravestone, not saying anymore for a few more minutes, just crying quietly to herself. Sometimes she starts to say something, but breaks off. It’s not until a car pulls up to the road nearby, and Angela comes out, pausing by the car door as Lena whips around to look at her.

“Listen, C’mander…” Lena begins again, standing up and tugging the hoodie firmer around herself. “I told you about my shit family and all, but, ah.” Jack watches Angela walking closer, his own throat growing tight at the words coming out of Lena’s mouth. He doesn’t want to hear them. Doesn’t want to disappoint anyone else.

She says them anyways. “In the end, I had a pretty good one. I don’t think tossing pulse bombs at me to teach me not to drop them counts as catch in the park, but what the hell would I know?” Lena shifts where she stands, digging a heel into the dirt. “For what it’s worth...I would have liked to call you dad.” The last bit comes out almost silent, almost too quiet for the drone to capture and almost too quiet for anyone but a supersoldier to hear. Angela comes up to Lena and wraps her in a hug, and Lena loses it again, crying into her shoulder.

“Oh, liebling,” she says, guiding Lena away from the gravestone after pausing for a moment at it. “Come back to the hotel room. Winston’s worried sick about you.”

Jack shuts off his connection to the drone, heading out of Arlington through the shadows.

It takes him months to locate Lena, find where she’s settling into civilian life. With the networking today, it hardly takes any time at all to pick out some perennials and have them sent to her apartment. The hardest part, he thinks, as he clicks the anonymous option, was not having them sent with the message, ‘to my daughter.’

[nhaneh]

asking notepad++ to compare two 164 megabyte files lol

[eternityservedcold]

for the love of god please stop fearmongering about the new editor

since staff said theyre going to force everyone to switch to the new editor, ive seen like... a truly insane amount of people saying like "this is tantamount to KILLING GIF MAKERS WITH HAMMERS", specifically with a link to this post outlining the "differences"

except there isnt a difference. no, really.

so in their post they show off these two gifs:

(old editor on the left, new editor on the right. direct links for viewing if you dont trust me: old editor, new editor)

and they say "[the new editor version] has less contrast and is more grainy" which is. a lie. like, visually, just looking at these gifs, you know this isnt true. desktop users can also click on one of the gifs and use the arrow keys to quickly switch between them and confirm it. but i can also prove it like this:

16th frame of the old editor version on the left, 16th frame of the new editor version on the right

ive edited the both images together for easier comparison. i split her face down the middle at her nose:

cant see the seam where the versions meet? ive marked them for clarity:

and a reversed version:

literally no difference.

i also compared the file sizes to see if theres difference:

nope. the same.

i opened the gifs in notepad

and pasted them both into a difference checker:

and, of course, the smoking gun that says this person has no idea what theyre talking about,

they posted the same gif twice in the last bit of the post and didnt notice. BECAUSE THEYRE THE SAME.

TL;DR: your gifs are safe. there is literally no difference, and if you think there is, its just you.

[pomrania]

The problem with designing my own crochet patterns, is finding and interpreting them later.

So like, last year for Halloween I made myself a plague doctor mask (or more accurately a NEW one, since I'd done one two years prior, but this time I was using some new techniques to style it better). And as always, I wrote down what I was doing while I was doing it; and when something didn't work -- which was often, that's what happens when you're designing something new -- I'd jot that down, and then write out what I did instead. Of course, there still were some issues in the final product; but I was making it for Halloween so there was a strict deadline on how long I could take for messing with it, and also something I simply hadn't noticed during the process but which became apparent after wearing it for a few hours straight.

Yesterday I decided I wanted to get started early on making another version of that mask, fixing the problems I'd noticed. And since it was overall a pretty good design, I wanted to start from the pattern I'd done last year.

HOWEVER.

I jot down most of my patterns in a Notepad file (the same one I'm writing this post in, actually), which has, ah, a lot of stuff in it. Took me a while to find the pattern, until I remembered a term to search. And THEN, when I found it, I found ALL my notes for it. As in, both what I ended up using, and also my "false starts"; and I have NO idea which is which.

Luckily, I know the “beak” part -- which is also where I start from -- turned out perfectly, so I can get that part made without having to worry about anything. Afterwards... well I have the mask I made last year, so I can compare my notes to what I’d made, and I knew all along that I’d want to make some substantial changes to fix at least the most major problem. Will I remember to keep track of what stuff I ended up going with, so in the future I’ll be able to tell which notes are relevant? *shrug*

[inked-shadows]

Squirming under the eyes of the Overseer, Clara studies the room. Carved into the walls are many different runes to nullify spells. The table and chairs are made of solid magiform; invulnerable furniture with the spell-stopping walls.

The Overseer has a thick file the they are reading from. Clara waits in silence, fidgeting in her chair.

"Clara Thorne." The Overseer's voice is low and deep. "Age 30. Born July 3rd. Average student grades when compared to her class. Noted for being extremely kind and patient. Currently employement is an online storefront selling handmade blacksmith items."

"Yes, thats me," Clara says. She know it wasn't a question, but she confirmed her information.

The gaze of the Overseer flashes to her and the back at the file.

"Magical affinity: pyromancy," they read.

"Yes," Clara sheepishly responds, "that is also correct."

The file is snapped shut in the Overseer's gloved hand and carefully placed on the table. They lean back and cross their arms over their chest.

"Do you know why you are here?" they ask Clara.

"I was... never really told," she replies timidly.

"Is there anything that you can think of to be the reason?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

The Overseer shifts once more. Their heavy and durable coat making sounds that seem to echo in the room. Clara's shoulders drop, and she fixes her eyes on the table infront of her.

"The average pyromancer lives about 20 years. The oldest pyromancer was 25 years old." The Overseer's statement is a harsh truth to all fire users.

"Until me," Clara says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Correct," they reply. "Even with those that reach 25, they tend to only live that long because they get banned from practicing magic after major injuries. The injuries causing the user to perish at that age."

Counting her breaths, Clara focuses on the table infront of her to keep from panicking too much.

"Yet here you are: no major injuries, no criminal charges, and still practicing magic. Pyromancy students from distinguished schools have some sort of arson charge on their files all the time. Yet somehow, you have no charges and have outlived a decade of graduates from those schools. The question becomes how did you do it?"

She is surprised about the constant of arson crimes from students, but remorse quickly follows as she hears about the decade of dead graduates. No words escape Clara. She sits there opening and closing her mouth a several times.

The Overseer notices the loss of words, and asks a new question, "How do you burn with your fire?"

"That not how I do it," Clara replies, taking comfort in a familiar topic. She looks up from the table to her interrogator. "I don't burn with fire. I can't fully describe how I reach for it."

"Do your best to."

"My best analogy is related to blacksmithing. If you don't know anything about either metal you're working with, the temperature of the forge, or if your tools are bad; it will never turn out. If you try finding aluminum and accidentally get magnesium, it won't work because they're two different metals. If the temperature is to low or to high, your metal won't work for you properly. If you tools need refreshing, then don't start a new project."

"How do you relate to your magic?"

"Checking the area where I'm casting, wearing proper clothes, and having safeties in place in case of emergency. I have a giant cement warehouse structure near a river on my property. The floor is a mix of sand, gravel, and dirt. The walls are cement and metal. No part of the building is easy to catch on fire. Sure I practice big impressive fire spells, but I also light the wicks of candles without melting the wax."

The Overseer pulls out a pen and notepad from their coat pocket. As they write down a few things, Clara feels nervous again.

"Why the candle exercise? What made you practice that?"

"It's for precision. If I only want to light the wick, then any melted candles means I failed. When I was young I wanted to light a candle, but I kept making my flames to big. As I learned blacksmithing from my father, I learned that accuracy with the flames' temperature is also important."

The Overseer writes some more notes as she talks. Clara doesn't dare to stop her story to ask about the notes being made.

She continues, "I did have some trial and error when practicing with my magic, but I alway knew how to stop myself and anything that I may have caused. Fire extinguishers are common in my house."

Clara finishes her tale. The Overseer writes a few more things before putting the notepad away. They get up and put a gloved hand to the door, letting magic unlock it.

"Ms. Thorne, you are hereby dismissed and free to go home," they say.

"That's i-- I mean," Clara stutters,"thank you Overseer. It's was nice to speak with you. I hope the rest of your day goes well, Overseer." She leaves the room.

Walking through the rest of the Magical Administration Headquarters, she feels every fearful stare at her and pretends not to notice the people pressing themselves against the walls to avoid her.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

A few weeks later Clara checks her mail and sees an envelope from the Magecraft Education and Learning Department.

Dear Clara Thorne,

It has com to our attention that you are the longest living pyromancer we have ever seen. The Overseer of All Magic stated that your self taught lessons with different fundamentals may be the cause of your extended life.

We have ask you to review the average pyromancy lesson plan for classes and see if there is something could be changed for the betterment of all students.

Sincerely

Abigail West

Head of the Magecraft Education and Learning Department

On a small pice of notepad paper that was also in the envelope was a short handwritten message.

Please consider this.

I want to lessen the deaths from pyromancy

-Overseer Velt

Pyromancy is ridiculously dangerous. Most pyromancers die before they turn 20 and 25 is considered ancient by their standards. You have reached 30 and show no signs of slowing down.

[smartonlinenotepad]

Online Notepad vs WordPad: Which Tool is Best for Your Needs?

In today's digital landscape, choosing the right note-taking tool is essential for productivity. Two popular options are Online Notepads and WordPad. However, Online Notepads have a clear edge when it comes to versatility and accessibility, offering more advanced features for modern users. In this blog, we’ll explore both tools, compare their features, benefits, and help you decide which one best fits your needs.

Introduction

Online Notepads and WordPad are two of the most common tools for note-taking and basic text editing. Online Notepads offer convenience and accessibility with a range of powerful features to make note-taking easier and more effective. WordPad, on the other hand, is a free word processor included with Windows that offers more formatting capabilities than a basic text editor. Let’s dive into a comparative analysis of their features and benefits to see which tool is best for your needs.

Comparative Analysis by Feature

1. Accessibility and Convenience

When it comes to accessibility, Online Notepads offer significant advantages over traditional applications like WordPad. Online Notepads are cloud-based, meaning you can access your notes from any device with an internet connection. This makes them an excellent choice for users who work remotely or need to switch between multiple devices throughout the day.

WordPad, however, is a locally installed application that is typically available only on Windows devices. While this offers stability, it lacks the flexibility of cloud-based tools. Users who are satisfied with basic, offline note-taking might find WordPad sufficient, but it lacks the flexibility and modern features that Online Notepads provide.

2. Features and Functionality

Online Notepads like Smart Online Notepad offer features such as autosave, real-time collaboration, and sharing capabilities. These tools are perfect for users who need to collaborate with others or require quick access to their notes from anywhere. Online Notepads often support basic text formatting and have additional features like grammar checking, text rewriting, and multi-language support.

On the other hand, WordPad offers basic formatting options, but falls short compared to the advanced capabilities of Online Notepads, which include collaboration, cloud storage, and real-time editing. With WordPad, users can change fonts, create bullet points, and adjust paragraph alignment, giving it more word processing capabilities. However, WordPad lacks advanced features like autosave and cloud storage, which means users must remember to save their work and manage their files locally.

3. User Scenarios

Students: Students might benefit more from Online Notepads because of their ability to save notes in the cloud and easily access them from multiple devices. Features like grammar checking can also help in writing better assignments.

Remote Workers: For remote workers or those who frequently collaborate with others, Online Notepads are ideal due to their sharing features and accessibility.

Quick Note Users: For those who need a simple and quick note-taking solution without worrying about formatting or advanced features, WordPad is a limited option, suitable only for users who need very basic functionality without modern features like autosave or cloud access.

Content Creators: Content creators might prefer Online Notepads for their autosave, editing tools, and cloud storage, allowing for easy drafting and editing of content on the go.

Pros and Cons

Online Notepad Pros:

Accessible from any device with internet.

Features like autosave, grammar checking, and sharing.

No downloads or installations required.

Online Notepad Cons:

Requires internet connection for full functionality.

Limited advanced formatting options compared to word processors, but compensates with features like AI Grammar Correction, text rewriting, seamless sharing, word & character count, and multi-language support.

WordPad Pros:

Offers basic word processing with text formatting options.

No need for internet connection.

Easy to use for quick, offline notes.

WordPad Cons:

No cloud storage or autosave functionality.

Limited accessibility—available only on Windows devices.

Lacks collaboration features.

Conclusion

Choosing between Online Notepad and WordPad depends on your specific needs. If you value accessibility, seamless sharing, cloud storage, and advanced editing features, an Online Notepad is clearly the superior choice for any modern user. On the other hand, if you can compromise on features and only need a very basic, offline tool, WordPad may be an acceptable, though limited, option. For secure and accessible note-taking, consider trying an Online Notepad for its free, convenient, and feature-packed experience.

[smackcoders]

How to Create or Edit CSV and XML Files to Import into WordPress

CSV (Comma Separated Values) and XML (Extensible Markup Language) are two commonly used file formats for data storage and exchange. CSV files store data in a tabular format where values are separated by commas. XML files, on the other hand, use a hierarchical structure to organize data with tags and elements. In this article, we will explore how to create and also edit CSV and XML files for importing into WordPress.

CSV and XML File Characters

CSV files primarily use characters like commas, double quotes, and line breaks to separate and format data. The comma acts as a delimiter between each value, while double quotes enclose values containing special characters or spaces. Line breaks indicate the end of a record or row. XML files use tags enclosed in angle brackets (<>) to define elements and their content. These tags provide structure and hierarchy to the data.

How do CSV files help in Your Business?

More or less all commercial platforms are using CSV files to import and export their ecommerce data to and from the database. CSV files are generally faster and consume less memory space when compared to the Spreadsheet. CSV files are handled by various businesses to save posts, products, and other requisite data.

Benefits of CSV Import

It is effortless to Install and child’s play to resolve any changes. Faster to handle the data. It runs in no time to import and export the file.

How to Open a CSV File

To open a CSV file, you can use various text editors or spreadsheet applications. Here are a few popular options:

Using Notepad

Launch Notepad, a basic text editor that comes pre-installed on most Windows computers.

Go to the File menu and select Open. Navigate to the location of your CSV file, select it, and click Open. The CSV file will open in Notepad, displaying the data in plain text format.

Using Notepad++

Download and install Notepad++, a free source code editor and launch Notepad++.

Go to the File menu and choose Open. Find your CSV file, choose it, and press the Open button. Notepad++ will display the CSV file with syntax highlighting and better readability.

Using MS Excel

Open Microsoft Excel, a widely-used spreadsheet application. Click on the File tab >> Open.

Browse to the location of your CSV file, select it, and click Open. Excel will automatically detect the CSV format and present the data in a spreadsheet view.

Using Google Sheets

Open a web browser and navigate to Google Sheets. Sign in with your account or create one.

Click on the File menu and select Import. Choose Upload and select your CSV file from your computer. Google Sheets will import the CSV file and display it in a spreadsheet format.

Using LibreOffice

Launch LibreOffice, a powerful open-source office suite. Click on the Calc option to open the spreadsheet application.

Go to the File >> Open. Navigate to the location of your CSV file, select it, and click Open. LibreOffice Calc will automatically detect the CSV format and present the data in a spreadsheet view.

Using OpenOffice Calc

Start OpenOffice, another popular open-source office suite. Select Calc from the available applications to open the spreadsheet component.

Click on the File menu >> choose Open. Find your file location and open it.

How to Prepare a CSV file using Notepad++?

Open Notepad++ for Windows and text editor for Mac. On the new file, start to create field names separated by comma values. Add field headers in the first row. Beneath the headers, add the field values.

Save the file with .csv extension by visiting File > Save as > Name.csv

Likewise, you can create your preferred CSV file with various text editors and save it in the .csv extension.

Using Notepad

Launch Notepad, a basic text editor available on most Windows computers.

Start by opening a new blank document. Type or copy and paste your data, ensuring each value is separated by a comma. To indicate a new row, press the Enter key after entering each set of values. Save the file with a .csv extension, ensuring the “Save as type” field is set to “All Files” in the save dialog box.

Using MS Excel

Open Microsoft Excel and enter your data into the cells, with each value in its respective column.

Save the file as a CSV by visiting the File menu, selecting Save As, and choosing CSV (Comma delimited) as the file format.

Using Google Sheets

Open a web browser and navigate to Google Sheets. Create a new sheet by clicking on the “+” icon or open an existing one. Enter your data into the cells, following the desired table structure.

To save the sheet as a CSV file, go to the “File” menu, select “Download,” and choose Comma-separated values (.csv, current sheet).

Using LibreOffice

Launch LibreOffice, a free and open-source office suite. Open Calc, the spreadsheet program in LibreOffice. Enter your data into the cells, organizing it into columns and rows.

Move to File >> Save As. Select CSV from “Save as type” and click Save.

Using OpenOffice Calc

Open OpenOffice Calc and enter your data into the cells, ensuring proper column and row alignment.

Select the File menu and choose Save As. Specify the CSV format in the Save as type field and click Save.

Downloading and Opening a Sample CSV File for Importing

To practice importing CSV files into WordPress, you can download sample CSV files from our website. Get access to the collection of sample CSV files. Download the desired file and save it to your computer. Then, follow the previous steps to open the downloaded CSV file in your preferred editor. You can also get sample XMLs by visiting the above link.

How to Edit a CSV File

Editing a .csv (Comma-Separated Values) file is a straightforward process that can be done using a variety of software applications. Here’s a step-by-step guide on how to edit a .csv file.

Open the .csv File

Launch a spreadsheet software application like Microsoft Excel, Google Sheets, or a text editor capable of handling .csv files. Navigate to the file location and open the .csv file in the chosen application.

Review the Data

Take a moment to review the data within the .csv file. Familiarize yourself with the columns, rows, and the overall structure of the data. This step will help you understand the information you’re working with and plan your edits accordingly.

Make Changes to the Data

To edit a cell

Locate the cell you want to modify and click on it. Then, simply type the desired changes directly into the cell.

To insert a new row or column

Right-click on an existing row or column, and choose the “Insert” option. This will add a new row or column where you can enter your data.

To delete a row or column

Select the row or column you want to remove, right-click, and choose the “Delete” option. Confirm the deletion if prompted.

Format the Data

If needed, you can apply formatting options to enhance the appearance of the data. This may include changing font styles, adjusting column widths, setting date or number formats, or applying conditional formatting to highlight specific data points.

Save the Edited File

Once you have made the necessary changes, save the edited .csv file. Use the “Save” or “Save As” option in your software application to overwrite the existing file or create a new file with the modifications. Choose the .csv file format when saving to ensure the data remains in the proper format.

Validate the Edited Data

After saving the edited .csv file, it’s a good practice to validate the changes you made. Check the data to ensure that the edits are accurately reflected and that the file still maintains its integrity.

Test Import/Export Operations

If you plan to import or export the .csv file into another system or application, perform a test operation to verify that the edited file functions as intended. This step helps ensure that the data is correctly processed in the target system.

Remember to back up your original .csv file before making any edits to avoid permanent data loss. Additionally, consider documenting your changes or keeping a record of the editing process for future reference.

By following these steps, you can confidently edit a .csv file, modify the data within it, and save the changes for further use or analysis.

How to fix all my CSV data appears in the first column

If you are experiencing the issue of all your CSV data appearing in the first column when opening the file in spreadsheet software, here are some steps to help you fix this problem:

Open the CSV File

Open any preferred spreadsheet software. Navigate to the location where your CSV file is stored and open it within the application.

Check the File Format

Make sure the CSV format is right and also the extension is saved as ‘.csv’ and not in another file extension.

Use the Text Import Wizard

Most spreadsheet software offers a Text Import Wizard or a similar feature to handle CSV files with specific settings. Look for an option like “Import” or “Text to Columns” within the software.

Specify the Delimiter

In the Text Import Wizard, you will be prompted to specify the delimiter used in the CSV file. Common delimiters include commas (“,”), semicolons (“;”), tabs (“\t”), or spaces. Select the appropriate delimiter that separates the fields in your CSV file.

Choose the Correct Data Format

If your CSV file contains numerical data or dates, you may need to specify the appropriate format for each column. For example, you can select “General” for text, “Number” for numerical values, or “Date” for date fields.

Adjust Column Widths

After importing the CSV file, check if the column widths need adjustment. Sometimes, when all the data appears in the first column, it might be due to narrow column widths that are not automatically adjusted by the software. Double-click on the column separators or use the “AutoFit Column Width” option to ensure the data is properly displayed.

Review the Data

Take a moment to review the CSV file’s content and verify that the data is now correctly distributed across multiple columns. Ensure that each field is in its appropriate column and that the rows and columns align as expected.

Save the Corrected CSV File

If the data is now displayed correctly in the spreadsheet software, save the file with the corrected formatting. Use the “Save” or “Save As” option to overwrite the original file or create a new file with the corrected data.

By following these steps, you should be able to resolve the issue of CSV data appearing in the first column. The Text Import Wizard helps you specify the delimiter and format settings, ensuring that the data is properly separated and distributed across the respective columns within the spreadsheet software.

How do XML files help in Business?

XML lets you extend data when it is needed. What’s more beneficial about XML files for your business, it supports Multilingual.

Benefits of XML File Import

It is faster than any other file format and can store a lot of customized data. XML data can be sent via the Internet. So that it can get access from anywhere.

How to Open an XML File

To open an XML file, you can use various text editors that support XML syntax highlighting and editing. Here’s how to open an XML file:

Using Notepad++

Launch Notepad++ if you have it installed on your computer. Go to the “File” menu and select “Open.”

Navigate to the location of your XML file, select it, and click “Open.” Notepad++ will display the XML file, providing syntax highlighting and improved readability.

Using Code Browser

Launch Code Browser, a versatile code editor with XML support. Navigate to the “File” menu and select “Open” or use the shortcut Ctrl+O. Find and visit the XML file and open it.

Code Browser will display the XML file, providing syntax highlighting and an organized view of the XML structure.

Using Atom

Open Atom and click on the “File” menu. Select “Open” or press Ctrl+O.

Browse your XML file and open it. Atom will load the XML file, providing syntax highlighting and a user-friendly environment for viewing and editing XML content.

Using Edit Plus

Launch Edit Plus, a powerful text editor with XML support and a range of features for efficient editing. Visit the File menu and open the desired file.

Edit Plus will open the XML file, displaying the content with syntax highlighting and customizable editing options.

Using other editors

If you prefer to use a different text editor, ensure that it supports XML file editing. Examples of popular XML editors include Sublime Text, Visual Studio Code, and Atom.

Open your preferred editor and use the file navigation options to locate and open the XML file.

How to Prepare an XML File

To prepare an XML file for importing into WordPress, you can follow these steps:

Using Notepad++

Launch Notepad++ if it’s installed on your computer. Go to the “File” menu and select “New” to create a new blank document. In the new document, start defining the structure of your XML file by adding opening and closing tags.

Add elements, attributes, and content within the tags to represent your data. Continue adding tags and nesting them as needed to organize your XML structure. Save the file with a .xml extension, giving it an appropriate name.

Using Code Browser

Open Code Browser, an XML-specific editor that provides features for easier XML file creation. Click on the “File” menu and choose “New” to create a new XML document. Use the editor’s interface to define the structure of your XML file. Add elements, attributes, and content as necessary. Save the file with a .xml extension, providing a relevant name.

Using Atom

Create a new file by going to the “File” menu and selecting “New File.” Begin constructing the XML structure by adding opening and closing tags.

Fill in the tags with elements, attributes, and content based on your XML requirements. Save the file with a .xml extension, choosing an appropriate name.

Using Edit Plus

Start a new document by selecting “New” from the “File” menu. Begin building your XML file structure by adding the opening and closing tags. Populate the tags with elements, attributes, and content specific to your XML data. Save the file with a .xml extension, naming it suitably.

Using other editors

If you prefer to use a different text editor, ensure that it supports XML file creation and editing. Open your chosen editor and create a new document. Follow the XML syntax rules to define the structure and elements of your XML file. Add attributes and content as needed, keeping in mind the hierarchical structure of XML. Save the file with a .xml extension and an appropriate name.

How to edit it?

Open the XML file in Notepad++ or any other XML editor. Review the file’s structure and hierarchy, making sure it adheres to the XML specifications. Ensure that each element is properly enclosed within opening and closing tags (<element>…</element>). Validate the XML file using an XML validation tool or online XML validator to ensure it is well-formed.

How to re-update Data into WordPress?

Export your desired content in XML format. Then edit the data on your exported file. Again import the same file into WordPress.

Bulk Import - What is it?

Bulk import is importing a large amount of data into WordPress. For example, importing more than 1000 records into WordPress.

How to Prepare Bulk Import Files in CSV?

For illustration, the product list has various products with its specification.

To store and update those products listed on the website, you can create 1000’s products in an Excel sheet and save that file in CSV format, and import that CSV file using WP Ultimate CSV Importer.

Conclusion

Creating and editing CSV and XML files for importing into WordPress requires careful attention to formatting, structure, and compatibility. Try to follow the above-explained steps. You can successfully create and edit the CSV and XML files. Remember to validate the file structure, handle special characters appropriately, and use compatible software to open and edit the files. With these skills, you’ll be able to seamlessly manage data imports in WordPress and enhance the functionality of your website. If you want a bulk import and export plugin for WordPress, try the WP Ultimate CSV Importer plugin. The popular Import Export WordPress plugin with many satisfying features.

[doctorveranair]

Post-outdoor theatrics, Vera had two cell phones, her wallet, her book, a small notepad and pencil case, and a set of keys that were purely for display purposes. She slipped through security without issue. MI6 had been comparatively more difficult about her kit, but she had a special clearance for that. It was one small personal stipulation granted by the Foundation and Kindersley had gotten it cleared with her assets beforehand for the most part. 

She did know it, though she wasn’t such a dolt as to consider herself invaluable enough to threaten Gareth Mallory. Laramie likely had his file by now, as Gareth likely had Laramie’s. Surely, there were things. People. Gareth had a life here in London. Vera just happened to be in Laramie’s direct purview. “Please, don’t let him threaten you with a lost cause,” she said quietly, after a long silence. Just in case that was on his mind. 

Vera allowed Gareth to lead the way. “I rather thought we’d take them to our private island and hunt them for sport,” she said with a haughty laugh. One final little Cape Cod bit.

It only took him to show his SIS ID card for the security people to let them through; though they still had to go through the metal detectors, of course. That part wasn’t ignored; not even for people like Gareth, and he was actually glad about it. It only meant they were doing their job properly here.

Still holding onto Vera’s arm, he waited for them to wave them through. Gaze locked with hers. “He could threaten me in a different way. And you know it,” he countered, raising an eyebrow. They both knew Laramie wouldn’t touch Gareth – but there were still other ways to hurt him. A smile curved up his lips as he felt Vera’s close to his ear. Her breath tickled him. Her words had him chuckle.

“Only to throw them into the ocean afterwards,” he mused jokingly. Gareth gestured for her to lead the way through the metal detector before he would follow right behind her.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

I have spent a total of TWO HOURS today ALONE researching for my Pokemon fanfic! (Not including the sporadic research I’ve done across various versions of canon the past few months and Come Up with Nothing.)

But I finally figured out how to get the crew from Sinnoh to Kanto: Base it on real-life Japan! The Seikan railway!

This what it looked like as I was formulating the plan.

Note the multiple tabs of Firefox open, which currently include a map of where Tokyo on Honshu Japan, the Wikipedia article with a map of where Hakodate is, the Britannica online encyclopedia page for the Seikan tunnel, and a webpage that lists which part of the world every Pokemon region is based on.

 See also: the Notepad file with a screen and a half of notes and the Paint file I saved with text notes in the actual image so I could compare where things are and how far they’ll have to travel, which cities they’ll be departing from and arriving at, etc.

I already figured out that I would simply skip the Boring^tm travel sequences, because I couldn’t even come up with enough material for a snapshot montage style transition. It really didn’t Appeal to me; I just want to get to the EXCITING parts!

I already figured out (last year maybe?) that I wanted it to be a fairly long trip between regions so Jess could attempt to bond with her Mismagius, and a long, LONG time ago (like when this fic was first coalescing in my head 15 years ago!) that Mistress would refuse to go in a pokeball. No way, with the relationship (or lack thereof) she has with the trainer could get her certified as a service pokemon, and I can’t remember if Pikachu had his own seat in the SM anime opening scene or not, but flights are SO QUICK, and I don’t really... see them at an airport? Train and bus stations register as more Cozy and Familiar to me, so I wanted to use ground transportation, even though this will definitely be the first time my trainer is leaving Sinnoh and she won’t have any idea what to expect either way.

(I still have to figure out which part of Sinnoh corresponds to the city of Hakodate where the real-world railway that travel between Hokkaido and Honshu starts. I’ll be comparing maps But once that’s done: I’ll finally have it all figured out, and I can finally start WRITING the damn thing!)

[techtalks2day]

Change End Of Line EOL by one click Issue #9562 notepad-plus-plus notepad-plus-plus

Notepad++ is an integral part of the modern programmer’s workflow. It’s versatile, powerful, and the text editor of choice for many. It’s also constantly evolving – Notepad++ now has multiple advanced features for comparing files or performing a text comparison between two different versions of a file. Notepad++ has the capability to detect differences between two opened versions of the same…

[seomanu]

Notepadqq download

What is Notepadqq (Notepad++) Notepad++ could be a free ASCII text file editor and pad replacement that supports many languages. Running within the MS Windows environment, its use is ruled by antelope General Public License. supported the powerful written material part Scintilla,Notepadqq (Notepad++) is written in C++ and uses pure Win32 API and STL that ensures a better speed and smaller program…

[can-youimagine]

Mended Hearts (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer is in need of a date, and you are madly in love with him

TW: fake relationship, angsty with a happy ending, self-loathing for a quick moment, brief gambling mention, awkward

Word Count: 30,733 (she's a long one)

A/N: This is poorly proofread. I've had a shitty couple of weeks, so let's just be happy to have a fic out rn

Masterlist

You walk into the office, making a b-line for the coffee machine, just like every morning. And, just like every morning, Spencer has already started the pot. However, unlike every morning, when you greet him, he leans close to you, acting like he is just grabbing a mug, and says, “I need to talk to you.”

You glance up at him. “About?”

He hands the mug to you before reaching over and grabbing his own. “I can’t explain it all right now, but I need a huge favor.”

“Okay?”

He nods and pours the two cups before returning to his desk, leaving you incredibly confused in the kitchenette. When you have finally regained enough awareness to return to your desk, you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at Spencer every couple of minutes. 

What on earth could he be asking you?

Your questions are answered when you leave. You hand your last file over to Hotch at 6:48. Spencer, who you suspect has been done since noon, hands his in at 6:51. And, at 7:02, the two of you are standing in the elevator together.

“So, what’s this favor?”

“We’ve got that mandatory leave coming up at the end of the month, so I’m going back to Vegas,” he says as if that answers your question.

“What? Did you get a secret cat that you want me to feed?”

“No, I-um-I know that this is silly, and you can totally say no if you are uncomfortable at all, and we can forget this ever happened. Well, not forget, but we can pretend it never happened-”

“What do you need me to do?”

He takes a deep breath. “When I told my mom I was coming to see her, she asked if I had a girlfriend, but I wasn’t paying attention to her question and said I did, so now she’s expecting me to bring her, but there’s no her to bring, so I was hoping-wondering!- I was wondering if you would come with me and pretend to be my girlfriend? I’ll pay for everything, and we’ll only have to do this for a few days at most, but for the rest of the trip you can pretend you don’t know me. I totally get it if you-”

“I believe there was a question in there. Am I allowed to answer it?” you tease, causing him to blush. “I’d be honored to be your fake girlfriend.”

“Really?”

“Were you really expecting me to say no?”

“I thought you might have better plans,” he answers.

You laugh. “No plans at all. Besides, you know I’d cancel them to spend time with you.”

He blushes again, watching the floor number change. “I wanted to ask you now so that we have enough time to get our story straight. My mom will see through it if we half-ass this.”

“What’s there to get straight? We met at work. We’d been friends for a while before you asked me out in the elevator?”

The doors open at the parking garage. “First date? How long have we been together? What’re our plans for the future? What-”

“Okay,” you cut him out, stepping out. “I get it. I’ll write down my answers; you write down yours, and we’ll compare notes in the morning. We’ll keep whatever overlaps, and figure out the rest then. Sound good?”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

You shrug. “Just want this to go well.”

He nods, watching you get into your car. “See you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning, babe.”

He grimaces at the nickname, and you make a mental note to add pet names to your list. When you get home, you immediately pull out a notepad.

First Date: He must’ve gotten up before the sun and showed up at my apartment after a particularly rough case with coffee and donuts for me. We sat on my balcony and watched the sunrise.

How long have we been together? 

You leave that one blank, figuring that Spencer has an opinion.

Future? We plan on getting married in the relatively near future. I can’t picture my life without him. Not a lie. Hopefully, we’ll be able to have kids soon. Once we get a little more settled, I’ll leave the BAU, and focus on our family.

You take a sip from your mug, letting the reality of the situation sink in. Are you really prepared to pretend to be dating Spencer? The answer, you realize after rereading that answer, is no. You most definitely are not prepared to pretend that you don’t actually want all of that, even though you desperately do. 

You shake your head, trying to get the thoughts out. You reread the answers you have already. Hopefully, that will be enough for Spencer to go off of. 

You rise out the mug. You are going to go to sleep. You are not going to dream of Spencer. You are going to pretend to be his girlfriend, and you are absolutely not going to let him know how much you want to stop pretending.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer is going through a very similar thought process across town. Everything he told you was true. He did tell his mom he had a girlfriend without thinking about it, and he was more than willing to take you to Vegas with him as his girlfriend. However, he hated that it had to be pretend. 

He sticks to the truth when he writes down how he asked you out. Anxious question in the elevator. With the first date, he wants to do something a bit more meaningful. He stares at the paper for a moment, before realizing that the best he can think of is

After we got back from a rough case, I couldn’t sleep, especially without showing (Y/N) how much I care about her, so I made coffee for the two of us. It was right before the donut shop next to her apartment opened, so I grabbed some for the two of us and went to see her. I honestly didn’t think she would be up, but she answered the door and pulled me onto her balcony. She had been reading out there like she always does when she can’t sleep and invited me to join. 

Spencer loses himself in the daydream. It doesn’t end at the first date or the second. He plans his entire future with you. Your wedding, your first kid, their subsequent graduation, everything until he falls asleep. 

He wakes up, not in your arms like he wants to be, but instead in a rather uncomfortable position on the couch to his alarm blaring throughout the apartment. Groaning, he gets ready for the day. He doesn’t have much written on his list, but he has everything planned. 

By some stroke of luck, you manage to get in the elevator at the same time as Spencer again. “Do you want to go over the lists at lunch?”

He nods. “I didn’t have much time to actually write mine down, but-”

“No worries. I didn’t either,” you respond. “Long night.”

He nods again, staring at the numbers. “You sure you still want to do this?”

“Of course, Spence,” you answer as the doors open. “Anything you need.”

He lets you step out first, hoping that the few seconds of distance from you will give him some relief.

It does not, but he guesses it’s okay. After all, it’s how he’ll have to live at the end of the month.

That’s what he has to remind himself during lunch. The two of you decided on a diner just outside of Quantico to discuss your plan. 

“So,” you start, “I figured you should probably figure out the timeline, since you know what’ll be most believable to her.”

“Yeah. I told her I was bringing someone two months ago, so we should have been dating by then. Actually, it should have been pretty serious before that, so that she would believe that I was actually taking you to meet her, so we should be at seven months? Most people meet each other’s families around four or five months, but with our jobs and my mom, I think we should push that back a bit. It should’ve been about five months when I told her.”

“Sounds good,” you answer, taking a bit of your sandwich. “What about our first date?”

He blushes, not wanting to tell you how long he spent thinking about every moment of your hypothetical first date. “I was thinking maybe I brought coffee to your apartment after a rough case, and we watched the sunrise on your balcony?”

“That sounds perfect,” you respond, not wanting to tell him that you were thinking the exact same thing. “I saw that you didn’t like ‘babe’ last night. What do you want me to call you?”

He shrugs. “Whatever feels right, I guess.”

“Well, I thought ‘babe’ felt right, but obviously you don’t, so what do you want?”

“I’m not sure that I’m supposed to come up with my own pet name.”

You roll your eyes. “C’mon, Spence. What’ve you been called?”

“I’ve never had a pet name,” he admits into his meal, taking a rather large bite to avoid whatever conversation will follow.

You surprise him. “Alright, sunshine, I’ll keep trying until you find something you like.”

He nods.

“Sunshine?”

“It’s alright,” he answers.

You laugh. “I’ll try to do better next time, love.”

He stills. 

“Alright, not that one either.”

“What should I call you?” he asks, desperately trying to get the focus off him.

“You’ll have to find out, baby.”

“Alright, princess.”

You groan. “Don’t use Morgan’s. If I’m going to be your girlfriend, you can’t steal a pet name from our coworker.”

He smiles. “Sorry, doll.”

“Better.” 

“Well, I guess we have two weeks to get that settled.” He stares at his meal, hoping that will keep this from being so awkward.

It seems as if you read his mind. “And for you to get more comfortable with this.”

He gives you a small smile.

“C’mon, Spence. Why don’t we start ‘dating’ now? That way, when we actually see your mom it won’t be the first time we’ve done this.”

In some strange way, it feels like you’re truly asking him out.

“That makes sense,” he answers. 

For the rest of the day, Spencer repeats that phrase, because, after all, that’s the only reason you asked, is because it made sense. This is all just a way for you to help your friend. It’s not because you’re in love with him. It’s because this is the best chance the two of you have at making this thing work.

Unfortunately, that thought does not help Spencer go to sleep. In fact, it leads him to your imagined first date, and he develops an idea. 

The best lies are rooted in truth, so your first date should be, too. 

He prays that you’re up as he gets everything ready, even more so as he stands outside your door. 

You open it, looking like you haven’t slept at all. “Spencer?”

“Hi, babe,” he greets, grimacing as the words leave his mouth. “Ready for our first date?”

You smile, letting him in. “Spencer Reid, you truly are something.”

He beams with pride, making his way onto your balcony. While he sets the drinks and donuts on the table, you grab a throw blanket from the back of the couch. He’s already sitting on your chair. “I know we hadn’t discussed it, but I thought that the donuts would be a nice touch.”

You lean into him, wrapping the blanket around the two of you. “They’re perfect, baby.”

He blushes, stiffly wrapping his arm around you.

“C’mon, Spence, you’ve got to get more comfortable with this.”

He tries to relax a bit, which if he lets himself forget that this isn’t real, is quite easy. As the sun rises, Spencer even manages to kiss the top of your head. 

You smile, letting yourself indulge yourself in this little fantasy. “Thank you.”

“What’re boyfriends for?”

“Of course,” you giggle.

Spencer heads back to his own apartment not long after to get ready for the day. The challenge, the two of you realize, is not keeping up the game of pretend. It’s keeping the secret from your coworkers. You have to balance between “dating” the person you secretly have a crush on while not letting a group of profilers know that you are “dating” or that you have a crush. 

As exhausting as it is, the two of you manage to do it. And, as you board the plane to Vegas, you hope that you both continue to.

Spencer looks up from his book, suddenly feeling a weight on his shoulder. When he looks over at you, he can’t bring himself to push you off. You look so serene as you sleep. He pulls your cardigan over you before turning back to his book. Though, he can’t focus on it. Gently, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

When the plane lands, he’s barely managed to finish four books, and he forces himself to wake you up. Your slightly dazed state is more charming than he ever could have imagined, and he wants nothing more than to make that sight a permanent part of his day. Instead, he lets you get your own bag and treats you like a friend throughout the journey to the hotel. 

The receptionist gives you a smile as she hands over the room keys, and after an incredibly awkward elevator ride, the two of you make it to your room. 

“Which bed do you want?” he asks.

You shrug. “I’ll take the one closer to the door if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” he nods like he hadn’t actually wanted that bed. “No problem.”

You toss your bags onto the bed before falling onto it. “So, what’s the plan?”

He walks over to his bed before beginning to unpack. “I thought we could get dinner tonight. We should probably do something couple-y before seeing my mom, so I’ll let you take the lead on that. Tuesday we’ll see her and again on Thursday. We leave on Saturday, so Wednesday, my mom will probably have told us to do something then, so we should do that, but you can do whatever you want on Friday.”

“Well,” you start, not wanting to meet his eyes, “What if you just showed me around where you grew up?”

“You’d really want to see that?”

“It’s part of who you are.”

“Then, it’s settled. We’ll leave whenever we get ready.”

You smile. “Sounds good.” 

“Morning or night shower?”

“I can do whatever,” you answer. “Right now, I just want to go to sleep.”

He chuckles. “Alright, I’ll take a shower now. Good night.”

“Good night.” 

When you wake up, Spencer is already up and walking around the room. 

“Good morning,” you say, voice still scratchy. “Didn’t realize we were getting up for work.”

He chuckles. “No, sorry. I just have to get up at the same time every day.”

“No, I get it. Isn’t it supposed to be healthier or something?” you ask, getting out of bed. “I know I should, but I just love to sleep.”

“It is,” he answers simply. “While you get ready, I can go get breakfast, if you want.”

Through a yawn, you agree and send him down to the lobby. You hop in the shower, suddenly feeling the reality of this trip set in. You, for all intents and purposes, are dating Spencer Reid for the entire week. 

“Don’t fuck this up” is all you can think. Stepping out of the shower, you sigh. Today is the start of the hardest week of your life, but for now, you have a few moments to yourself before this relationship suffocates you.

When you walk out of the bathroom, you are a bit surprised to see Spencer already sitting on the bed, an array of breakfast pastries around him. “I know you have a sweet tooth,” he answers plainly.

You giggle before falling onto the bed next to him. “So do you.”

He blushes before taking a bit out of a chocolate muffin. 

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You grab a danish from the pile. “I mean, I know that you’re showing me around, but like, I didn’t know if you had thought much about it.”

Oh, he had thought about it. More than he was willing to let on. Much, much more. “I mean, I can take you past the schools and stuff. The first casino I got banned from,” he suggests with a smirk.

“I’d love that.” You lean against the pillows behind you. “Do you think you could teach me how to get banned from a casino?”

He pretends to think about it for a minute. “I’ve seen you play poker.”

You give him a playful shove, and you let yourself indulge in the moment. For that moment, you aren’t pretending to date him. You are having a conversation with your boyfriend. 

A few more shared giggles and an extra pastry later, the two of you are ready to go. You toss Spencer the keys to the rental. When he raises his eyebrows, you shrug. “You’re my boyfriend,” you answer.

Spencer doesn’t argue with you. In all honesty, he’s quite certain that his brain stopped functioning as soon as you called him your boyfriend. With shaking hands, he starts the car. He’s not exactly eager to show you where he grew up. He understands that this is a normal couple activity. But, this is not a normal couple, and Spencer certainly did not have a normal childhood. All he can think about is how poorly this could go. Then, he starts thinking about why he doesn’t go by these places anymore, how many bad memories he has here.

“So,” you start, pulling him out of his thoughts, “I totally get it if this is too invasive or something, but how did you get from elementary school to high school?”

He wants to dismiss the question. Afterall, you gave him an out. “The teachers thought that it would be best for me to skip as many grades as possible. My mom was having a hard enough time raising me on her own. When the teachers said it would be best, she believed them.”

You place your hand over his on the center console, sensing his discomfort. “I mean, I know it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you’re here.”

He blushes and tries to deflect. “I think my kindergarten teacher just didn’t want to deal with me. On the first day of school, she read Love You Forever to us and got annoyed when I read the book out loud with her.” 

You rarely got the chance to think of Spencer as a kid. A real kid, who wanted to share his knowledge with his class, completely uninhibited by the context of the situation. “I never cared for that book. It gives off weird mother energy.”

He laughs at your admission. “I loved everything Babar,” he states, noticing how your eyes light up. “On our first day of school, we got to go the library. It was the first time I was surrounded by books for my age. I checked out every single Babar book.” He smiles at the memory. He hadn’t thought about it in a while. “When I came back the next day, the librarian told me they had some Richard Scarry books that I might like.”

“Was he the Pie Rats guy?” you interject.

“Pirates?”

“No. Pie Rats. Like, the dessert and rats. I don’t remember much but there were these pirates, rats, rat pirates, who stole a pie. Anyway, it was my sister’s favorite book. I can’t tell you how many times I read it to her before bed.”

“My mom used to read sonnets before I went to bed.”

“Maybe not the most developmentally appropriate,” you comment, “but very sweet.”

He blushes again, and directs your attention out the window. “There’s the elementary school.” It’s the middle of the day, and there are kids on the playground, so he doesn’t linger. “They’ve upgraded the playground since I’ve been here.”

“What was your favorite thing on the playground?” you ask, before guessing, “You strike me as a swings kid. Like, you definitely ran onto the playground so that you could stay on them all recess.”

“You’re a pretty good profiler,” he answers. He doesn’t want to tell you that even for his brief time in elementary school, he was picked on and found it easier to stay with the librarian during recess than go outside and play, but whenever he was on a playground, he always ran to the swings. To this day, when he takes Henry to the park, he swings next to him. “Was your favorite the slide?”

“It would have been if Tyler hadn’t started charging for it. A piece of mulch for one slide,” you explain with a scoff. “If he was on the playground, I hung out on one of the jungle gyms. In fifth grade, they added a merry-go-round, which was a huge hit.”

“Good choice,” he comments, driving past the middle school without acknowledging it.

“Yeah, if I were showing you around my hometown, I would skip the middle school, too.” 

“I didn’t spend much time there.”

“Alright, smartypants,” you mutter with a playful glint in your eyes. 

It’s a bit of a drive from the middle school to the high school, so he turns his attention back to the charade. “So, we went over our first date and how we started dating, what else do we need?”

“She’s your mom, so what do you think she’s going to ask?”

“She’ll want to know what we plan for the future.” He anxiously drums a pattern onto the steering wheel. 

“Well,” you start, unsure how much you want to admit, “if I’m meeting your mom, we have to be pretty serious, right?”

He nods, not trusting his voice.

“So, we would be planning on getting married at some point, right? Having kids?” When he doesn’t react, you try to backtrack on your statement. “I mean, we haven’t been dating for a year, so we don’t have to have all the details ironed out yet, but yeah, I’m good with that if you are.”

“Sounds good,” he squeaks. 

“Do you want to have kids?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “Do you?”

“Yeah, I do,” you answer, looking directly at him.

Spencer has never been more grateful to pull up to the high school. “This is the high school.”

“You don’t seem real happy to be here.”

“I never was.”

You squeeze his hand, which he almost forgot you were holding. “Can we stop by your house?”

“Yeah,” he responds, eagerly driving away. “Of course.” While passes the school, he can’t help but ask the question he’s not sure he wants an answer to. “Were you one of the mean girls?”

“No,” you answer. “I mean, yeah, I was sixteen and probably a bitch, but I never intentionally made someone feel bad.” You rub your thumb over his knuckles. “I mean, and I know this isn’t the answer you want, but I probably wouldn’t have been your friend in high school. I would have largely ignored you, or cheated off your homework when I forgot to do mine.” 

You expect him to pull his hand away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he laughs. A genuine, Spencer laugh. “That is the most honest answer I’ve ever heard.” When he calms down, he whispers, “Thank you.”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Spencer.” The sincerity in your voice makes Spencer forget that the entire reason you are here is to help him lie and that, when his mother asks you anything, you will have to lie to her and that that means you will have to lie to him.

“I’m not going to lie to you either,” he says, and he means it.

With a weird, heavy atmosphere hanging over a trip that was supposed to end with you getting banned from a casino, you quickly change the topic. “We still haven’t found a pet name for you.”

“Or you,” he counters.

“Alright, sweetheart, whatcha got?”

“Baby doll?”

“Ooh, old timey.”

“I hope that wasn’t your offer,” he jokes.

You laugh. “Well, I guess I’ve got to cross ‘grandpa’ off my list too.”

On the drive to the house, you settle on ‘sunshine’ for him and ‘doll’ for you. He drives by the house, making sure to only share good memories with you before taking you back to the hotel. 

“I know that today wasn’t the easiest thing for you, but I truly appreciate you sharing this with me,” you say as he parks the car.

“Honestly, today was fun. I wouldn’t have thought of most of that until today.”

It takes everything in you not to lean in and kiss him right then. Instead, you push open the car door, separating yourself from him for just a moment.

“It’s only noon,” he states. “Is there anything else you want to do?”

You pause for a moment, leaning against the car. “I really just want to talk to you.”

Spencer wants to believe that you are saying that because you want to spend more time with him, because you truly want to get to know him, but he knows better. This is just until Thursday. After that, the two of you will go back to being nothing more than friends. “Makes sense. It would make tomorrow better.”

Right, tomorrow. Your heart sinks. Tomorrow and Thursday are the only times you get to be a couple. After that, you’ll be (Y/N) again. Not doll. Just (Y/N). You make a small hum of approval before following him up to your room.

He sits on the desk chair. “So, what do you want to know?”

Falling onto your bed, you answer, “I wouldn’t have even thought to ask you about most of the stuff you told me. Should we just-” you cringe as you finish the sentence “-look up some questions?”

“There was a study that determined the 36 questions you should ask your partner that supposedly lead to love,” he explains. “It comes from the idea that you should be able to be vulnerable with a person if you are going to spend the rest of your life together. Do you want to give those a shot?”

With the idea that these questions could somehow make Spencer love you, you agree.

“The first is if you could have dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would it be?”

You pause for a moment, really considering the question. “I mean, part of me wants to say a saint or a scholar or someone I could really learn from, y’know, but I also think I want to say that to impress you,” you laugh. “I think dinner with Billy Crystal would be fun.”

He chuckles, not expecting your answer. “I’d have dinner with Gideon. I’m not sure if I would say anything or expect him to, but I just want to see him again, just in case I needed something.”

Smiling, you prompt him for the next question. The two of you spend a few hours laughing and grimacing and just talking. You abandoned the list around question eleven, but that hasn’t slowed the two of you down any. It isn’t until you hear your phone chime that you notice the time.

“We should probably get dinner.”

He glances at the alarm clock, before laughing, “Yeah, probably. Do you want to go out?”

You agree, telling him to pick whatever he wants. He settles a mediocre diner that he remembers, but you honestly couldn’t care less about the food. You are, essentially, on a date with Spencer.

When he pays the bill without even letting you offer to split it, you lose yourself in the fantasy. It all becomes too real, and you’re having trouble determining where this ends.

Spencer tries to convince himself that you’re quiet because you simply have nothing more to say. However, he has spent too many years as a profiler to not notice how on edge you are. But, if you aren’t going to tell him what’s bothering you, he certainly isn’t going to push you.

As you walk back into the hotel, you feel like you’re suffocating. How could you agree to this? Why would you agree to torture yourself like this? You had thought you could handle this. Obviously, you were wrong. 

Surely, if you just tell Spencer, you’ll feel better. No, you should wait until tomorrow. Meet his mom, and tell him after, that way, if he doesn’t want to be seen with you after (not that you could blame him), he can tell his mom that you got sick and had to stay back while you’re well on your way to Virginia.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces, leaving you alone. 

You try to settle yourself. You need to sleep tonight. If you don’t, you’ll be too stressed to get through the day, and you will ruin this whole thing. You make a cup of tea, hoping it will calm you enough to make it through the night.

Spencer steps into the water, letting the wash over him. This trip has been tougher than he thought it would be. He had planned on telling you the truth, that he actually just wanted to ask you on a date but couldn’t muster up the courage to actually ask you. But, things, as they tend to go for Spencer, got very complicated very quickly. 

Now, it’s too late for you to back out if you want to. He just has to get through tomorrow. Then, if you want, you can spend the rest of the week pretending you don’t know him, and he will have just enough time to pretend like his heart wasn’t broken before returning to work.

As he gets dressed, he glances at his watch. He only has to live like this for roughly thirteen hours. Ever unlucky thirteen. He tugs at the sleeve of his sweatshirt, pulling it so that it covers his hand, his fingers rubbing the fraying edge. Thirteen hours. 

He climbs into the bed next to yours, willing himself to stop thinking about how much he wants it to be yours. “Good night.”

You smile at him, rolling over to turn off your light. “Good night, Spence.”

You’re not sure that you sleep more than an hour the entire night. If you weren’t so caught up in yourself, you would have noticed that Spencer maybe slept and hour and a half. 

Finally deciding that you are not getting any more sleep, you pull yourself out of the bed, ready to just get today over with. You hide out in the bathroom, hoping that the shower drain will swallow you and you won’t actually have to convince Spencer’s mom that you are head-over-heels in love with him, while pretending that you aren’t actually in love with him, before you tell him that you are an appropriate amount of in love with.

Easy as pie.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, hoping that you look believable, before pushing open the door. 

The two of you spend the morning dancing around each other, keeping conversation to a minimum and praying that neither of you blows this. Spencer convinces himself that you are just nervous to meet his mom, and you convince yourself that your nervousness is making you think he is nervous. 

As he leads you into the building, he tries to steady his nerves, knowing that his mom will not hesitate to point out how uncomfortable he is. He can do this.

“Diana, you have some visitors,” the nurse says, leaving the three of you alone. 

“Hi, mom.”

Her face lights up, and you start to second guess this whole thing. “Spencer! Is this (Y/N)?”

“Hi, Mrs. Reid, it’s great to finally meet you.”

She gives you a soft smile as you sit down. “Spencer absolutely adores you,” she states, causing Spencer to blush. “He’s been telling me about you for years. I was incredibly excited to meet you.”

You giggle, not quite sure how to handle this. As he tries to take control of the conversation, you can’t stop thinking of her comment. Years? You had agreed to do this only a few weeks ago. 

Luckily for you, the two of them fall into a conversation that doesn’t involve you. Occasionally, you chime in to back up the lie that the two of you have constructed or to gush over him, but you try to step back and let the two of them enjoy their time together. Finally having your chance to play the role of Spencer Reid’s girlfriend, you lean into him, letting yourself go for a moment before that all comes crashing down. 

Spencer feels you squeeze his hand as you excuse yourself to the restroom. As soon as you’re gone, his mother asks, “You are getting married soon, right?”

He flounders for an answer. Starting about four different sentences before she continues, “You obviously love the girl. She loves you, too.”

He settles on a tight-lipped smile as a response.

By the time you come back, Spencer has been thoroughly embarrassed and feels absolutely horrible for lying to his mom. As he sees her start to drift off, he makes an excuse to leave. Despite your surprise, you don’t protest. 

Once the car door shuts, he turns to you. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Spence?”

“We shouldn’t have done. I especially shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”

You have to stop yourself from physically grimacing at his words. So much for telling him how you feel. “I’m sorry.”

The dejection in your voice makes Spencer’s heart break. He drums his fingers on the wheel, trying to think of a way out of this. He sighs, knowing that there is only one way to even try to fix this. “I just really really wanted you to meet my mom as my girlfriend. My real girlfriend. I got so overwhelmed trying to keep up the lie. You didn’t deserve that. You sure as hell don’t deserve me, but I just need you to know where I’m coming from.”

You place your hand over his on the steering wheel with a smile. Suddenly, Spencer feels that everything will be okay.

[rrasado]

any headcanons on the demon brothers with a child MC?? maybe there was a mix up on the age in their file or something so they were expecting a grown exchange student and were met with a kid?? could also be a teen but that's up to you!!

• Youthful Student •

Hope you don't mind the mixed format T T, I think the accumulated headcanons fit a potluck type of serving rather than individual segments? Most of these are a shared effort between 3 or more brothers to so it'd be easier to just throw them in one lump jkfb. That and I've done a similar request last year! Think of this as an extension.

When you're younger than intended:

Whatever swindling thought Mammon had, it’s out the window. At first he refused to be the first assigned babysitter to the “exchange student” but, the thought of someone as young as being passed to his admittedly harsh brothers convinced him at the last minute.

He definitely considered taking you out to play with that little girl he’s been secretly taking care of, you two would get along swimmingly! That’s what he thought anyway.

Levi was even more reluctant to take you in as the new resident- world jumping stories usually had someone at least 16 but you weren’t even half that fan assigned age minimum??? Why can’t Diavolo send you back?- Then you called him Onii-san.

Every morning whenever Lucifer needs Levi to attend face to face classes you were the key to get him out his room. A simple "c'mon Levi-nii" already has the Avatar of Envy grabbing his digital notepad and headphones out the door.

That makes two demons on your big brother team. The third person to become your accidental sibling was Beel of all people. An accident at first but holding you felt like holding a big sentient marshmallow.

The fourth born clowned himself, telling to his reflection in yhe mirror over and over again how he's only getting close to you to study human children and how they differ in maturity compared to the grown humans he'd have to encounter.

In the end he got over the denial and proudly took you with him to cat cafes (after making sure you weren't allergic to the critters, of course.)

Asmodeus of course felt pouty with your bonding with the rest of the brothers, especially after seeing a post from Satan where it captioned something about bonding under a picture of you within a pile of cats.

Asmo wasn't easily allowed by the other brothers to come near you but they did eventually cave in after he hauled in bags upon bags of clothing for your petite frame. Styling you in the best way he could and with hid skill- you could be mistaken as a kid's fashion model in the human realm.

Asmo would occasionally fuss over Beel offering you so much food even lecturing him about your diet- which can potentially ruin both your clothes and your appetite.

At this point in time Beel decided to seek help from Satan regarding what food a human child such as yourself can consume. It took him a solid month seeing as he kept getting distracted over the idea of good itself rather than the actual studying part.

Belphegor did take advantage of your childish help, and I'd like to think that he didn't want to off you the last minute in lesson 16 but accidents happened and you were desperately clutching on what you understood in the plane of the living.

After such horrendous events he tried everything to make it up to you, a child who knew no better than him when he first opened his eyes amidst the soft environment of the Celestial realm.

Pillows? Stuffed animals? He beat all his brothers in spoiling you in this department. Anything to make you feel a bit safer around him even if it does take a mountain of plushies...

Do you think he isn't listening while you tell him the names of your plushie kingdom? Oh he has them memorized even with his eyes closed. He knew he somehow scraped himself out your hate list after he heard you naming one of your cow plushies as Belphemoo

Albeit childish his resentment of humans in general became a distaste for Diavolo- why would he let a young child like yourself stay here in literal hell? Such thoughts come to a stop whenever you tug him back for nap time.

Lucifer rarely indulges in taking care of you due to workload but, once or twice a month he attends your "tea parties" specially sponsored by Barbatos' support. During these personal get togethers, he's able to hear how you perceive your experience without biased outside forces.

Your presence did impact the devildom in the long run, teaching the highest authorities of hell that maybe they should focus on the next generation if they're intending to keep this place prosperous. But for now you'll settle with your many brothers and the memories no matter how fleeting— treasured in your youthful mind.

[simbouquet]

TS3: Eye Shader Tweaks

This mod requires the latest version of Lazy Duchess' Pixel Shader Modding Framework to work!

This is a tiny little mod for The Sims 3 that edits how the eye catchlights look on all human Sims, including occults with special eye glow, both in Live Mode and CAS. I tried to make them look softer and less jarring when viewed at a distance, as opposed to EA’s massive, distracting catchlights.

Shader modding is admittedly very foreign to me, as this was just a work of trial and error, but I think the result is decent and so I’m happy to share it!

More info, install instructions and download under the cut!

Compatibility

Compatible with any default replacement eyes you may have.

Compatible with Lazy Duchess’ Shader Tweaks;my mod includes Lazy's pet catchlight fix, so if you already have Shader Tweaks you can replace the relevant files with mine.

Compatible with my own re:Cerberus eye mesh replacements, as well as Mahamudo’s aWT Eyeball Mesh and Buckley’s conversion for Children and Toddlers. For the latter two, the catchlights will only be visible if you download the SimEyes shader versions.

Install Instructions

Download and install the latest version of Lazy Duchess’ Shader Framework (super important!!)

DELETE the files SimEyes.msasm, SimEyesLive.msasm and SimEyesLive2.msasm if they are in your shader_replace folder. Those pertain to the old version of this mod and will conflict with the new version!

Copy the contents of the shader_replace folder in simbouquet_EyeShaderTweak.zip to your own shader_replace folder in Game/Bin. Allow it to replace any files it needs to, including aliases.cfg, which is what lets the framework find the files it needs in the first place.

You’re done!

Download: SFS / Google Drive

Credits & Thanks

escand’s Oh My Eyes: seen in the preview images.

Gimp: Creating the preview images.

Notepad++ & WinMerge: Comparing and editing shader files.

Thank you to Lazy Duchess for her contributions to Sims modding in general, and particularly for the Shader Modding Framework which makes mods like this possible.

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [two] // wanda maximoff

summary: your crush begins to get more intense for Wanda, ensuing awkwardness between you both

warning/s: none

author's note: so glad you’re all liking this, here’s part two! 🥰

part one | part three | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

I knew it was a dream as soon as it began. Dreams never tricked me as I always detected something didn't feel right and figured out it wasn't real. But that was my only 'talent' with dreams, as everything else was left down to my subconscious. I couldn't control them, break away from the script or deviate from the scene in any way. I just knew when it wasn't real.

Admittedly, it took a little longer for me to recognise this one was a dream compared to others I'd had. It just seemed so normal as I headed into Chemistry class, seeing other students filing in and joining their partners. Mr. Hale was at the front of the class, occupied by his laptop and the projector, and it felt like any other day at school. The lights were off and the blinds were closed slightly, leaving the room in darkness except for the light from the board.

"Are we watching a film or something?" I asked Wanda as I set my bag on the desk beside her, earning her attention.

She looked up from her notepad and smiled widely, blue eyes sparkling in the darkness. "You're here, you took forever!"

"You saw me two lessons ago," I teased, taking a seat beside her.

She moved closer to me, hands immediately moving to my left one, playing with my fingers mindlessly. It felt right at the time, but I knew deep down that this wasn't real. In what world would this happen?

"Still," she mumbled adorably, before meeting my eyes. "We're watching some video about the periodic table."

I hummed, glancing at Mr. Hale as he struggled to pull up the video.

"Thank God because I couldn't be bothered doing work," Wanda added with a sigh, before moving closer to me, leaning on the palm of her hand as the other held mine still. "D'you think you can cover for me whilst I sneak in a nap?"

I stifled a laugh, moving closer and admiring the way her eyes changed colour in the light from the board. "I'm sure you're supposed to be paying attention."

She scrunched her nose, an uninterested smile on her lips, and it made my heart flutter.

"Fine, I'll cover for you," I gave in easily, before pressing a kiss to her nose.

She giggled quietly and when I pulled back, she leaned in and kissed my lips. Her free hand moved to the back of my neck as I rested mine on her lap, closing my eyes and falling into her without question. Okay, so yeah, definitely a dream, but I wasn't complaining.

"If Miss Maximoff and Miss Y/L/N can kindly stop making out, then we can begin the lesson," Mr. Hale announced, breaking Wanda and I's kiss.

Some of the class snickered as we separated from each other's hold, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He gave us a fed up look.

"Thank you," he said, before erupting into a speech about today's lesson.

When he started the video, I leaned forward on the desk to get comfortable and felt Wanda do the same, leaning her head on my arm and continuing to play with my hand. I smiled to myself, kissing the top of her head gently before getting comfortable. It all seemed too good to be true, but God was it a nice thought.

When I woke up the next morning with butterflies in my stomach, I groaned loudly. I knew I'd screwed myself over. I was in too deep. Dreaming about Wanda was not good, not good at all...

And it definitely didn't help when I showed up to class that same day, approaching my table and an already-seated Wanda. Just a dream, I told myself as I took a seat. Not real. And not a big deal.

"Good morning," she greeted when I sat down and pulled my books out. Her usual picture perfect smile was on her lips as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "How are you?"

Trying my best not to think about my dream, I gave her a small smile. "G-good, yeah."

Fuck me, why did I stutter?

"You sure? You seem distracted," she noticed, making me swallow hard and look away from her piercing gaze.

"Yeah," I managed to say without stuttering once again. "Just tired. What about you?"

"Same," she said with a breathy chuckle, her leg brushing mine under the table and making me freeze. She didn't seem to notice as she continued, "I stayed up late binge-watching Netflix. Probably the wrong choice, but here we are."

I bit my lip to contain a laugh, relaxing a little. It was just a dream. She wasn't that bad. I was fine!

Class started and Mr. Hale was explaining something about doing a practical experiment today, but if I'm being honest, I was barely listening. Stuck in a daydream, I was wiggling my pen in my right hand and staring at the display behind Mr. Hale's head mindlessly.

Suddenly, a warm hand rested on mine, pressing it to the table and stopping me from shaking my pen. I shit you not, my heart stopped when I saw Wanda smirking playfully at me.

"D'you mind?" she asked, clearly finding my wiggling pen distracting.

All I could think about was how soft and warm her hand was, and then I became aware of her bare leg still brushing against mine – she just had to wear a dress today, didn't she? – and then the fact that she was still staring at me with amusement dancing in her eyes. My dream from last night returned to mind as she was still yet to remove her hand and I was lucky I managed to find my words as I choked out a response.

"S-sorry," I said, frozen in place, yet again, by Wanda's presence.

She snickered, shaking her head at my dismay, before finally letting go of my hand. I licked my lips nervously and let go of my pen, but not quite finding the energy to move my hand. I could still feel the warmth of her hand lingering on mine and, oh God, this was getting worse by the second. Why did I have to have that stupid dream?!

Clearly distracted by my own stupidity, I failed to realise that Mr. Hale had let us begin with our experiment, whatever that may be as I wasn't listening. Wanda was nudging me slightly, bringing me back into reality, and said something about getting lab coats and goggles whilst I got the bunsen burner.

I watched her leave and massaged my head, telling myself to get my act together. I was not the stupid cliché of a girl who acted nervous around her crush. I was better than that, goddamn it.

After getting the bunsen burner, I hooked it up to the gas tap as Wanda returned with our lab coats and safety goggles. We both put them on before Wanda gave me a knowing look, humoured smile tugging at her lips. I was beginning to hate (love) that look.

"You totally weren't paying attention during that, were you?" she asked, but she definitely already knew the answer.

"'Course I was," I played it cool, before wandering over to the handout on our desk. "We're doing an experiment."

She chuckled as I distracted myself with reading the instructions.

"So it says the first instruction is to boil some water in a beaker," I said with a nod. "Seems easy enough. Just gotta get a beaker."

My mouth went dry when Wanda hunched down on the desk, reading the paper between us. I hoped she couldn't hear how fast my heart was beating in my chest.

"You think you can manage that one?" she teased, glancing up at me with that same playful smirk on her lips.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief, similar to the one her twin possessed on a regular basis, and I'd never felt more stuck in place in my life than I did now. Without thinking, my gaze lowered to her lips and I realised then and there how badly I wanted to feel her lips against mine for real. She was so close I could move forward a mere few inches and feel it, but I didn't.

"Y-yeah, I'll get it now," I stumbled out, before literally stumbling over the stool as I made a move to leave.

I tried to ignore the way her gaze followed me and instead focused on getting to the beakers without passing out. To my relief, Y/BF/N was also collecting a beaker for him and his partner, too. When I stopped by his side, he looked up to see who it was, then smiled.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing my panic.

I shook my head frantically. "Definitely not. This is really bad, Y/BF/N."

Y/BF/N furrowed his brows, making me give him the look, to which he eventually followed what I meant.

"What happened?" he asked, trying (and failing) to hide his amusement.

I made sure nobody was nearby or could hear us before admitting, "I had a dream."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively, making me slap him on the arm quickly.

"Not that kind of dream, you perv," I clarified, before sighing. "But a dream. About you-know-who. And it threw me off and now I can't seem to act like a human."

He snorted as he tried not to laugh. I glared at him, shoving him again, making him laugh out loud.

"I'm sorry," he defended. "It's just– you've got it bad."

"Very helpful." I narrowed my eyes.

"Look, it's new which is why you're all awkward," he said knowingly, collecting his beaker. "It'll eventually pass when you get used to it. Until then, try not to do anything stupid."

"Too late," I mumbled under my breath.

He patted me reassuringly before leaving. I grabbed a beaker and turned around, deciding to take it easy. I'd get over it. I always did. I wasn't stupid. Yeah, I wasn't stupid. I had this!

But that thinking immediately went out the window when I approached our workspace and saw Wanda leaning on the desk, looking over the handout with thought. Her hair was pulled back for safety reasons, exposing her tensed jaw and pursed lips. She was wearing her lab coat over her black, knee-length dress and I'm not gonna lie, she looked extremely sexy today because she was wearing matching black knee-high boots. I gulped.

God help me.

—

You'd be relieved to know that my crush on Wanda died down after a while. Not in the way that I no longer had a crush on her – God knew I was overflowing with feelings for her – but in the way that I was getting a lot better at hiding it.

Which was perfect for when I saw her with her dick of a boyfriend. You'd be surprised how many times he kept popping up. And when he did, I always seemed to want to strangle him.

This time, I was working my new part-time job at a pizza place in town. Y/BF/N was keeping me company on my shift by taking extra long to finish his pizza so we could talk at the counter. I was drying some glasses as we spoke when the door to the parlour opened and the bell jingled, signalling new customers.

"I believe that's your cue," Y/BF/N teased, making me roll my eyes playfully.

My gaze wandered to the door where I saw a small group of teens walking in and finding a seat. It took me a second to realise that it was actually Wanda and her friends, including her boyfriend, who were looking for a table. My eyes widened with surprise as she looked around. Her eyes found mine and an excited smile appeared on her face as she waved to me.

"This just keeps getting better," Y/BF/N said when he saw Wanda heading our way, thankfully without her friends.

I pinched him before straightening up and plastering my best customer service smile on my lips. Wanda stopped before me, smiling between Y/BF/N and I.

"Hey, guys," she greeted brightly, to which Y/BF/N smiled in return, before looking my way and making my stomach flip at how pretty she looked today. "Y/N, I didn't know you worked here!"

"Yeah, it's kinda new," I answered coolly. "Gotta get that extra money, right?"

She nodded before grabbing the tip of my cap on my head and wiggling it, letting out a laugh. "You look adorable in your uniform, I must say."

I forgot how to breathe as she let go of my cap, her eyes still glittering with joy. Y/BF/N tried to hide his laughter as he sipped his drink, meanwhile I felt my neck heating up with embarrassment.

"Th-thanks," I got out nervously. I know what you're thinking – I said I got better at hiding my crush. And I have! I just– why did she have to put me on the spot like this?!

"I should get back," she said after a moment, pointing over her shoulder towards her friends. "But it was nice seeing you. Are you serving us?"

I nodded, regaining composure. "I'll be over in a minute. Give you chance to pick something."

"Awesome," she said sweetly, flashing me a final smile before heading back to her friends.

I released a shaky breath when she left, taking my cap off and massaging my head momentarily.

"I feel like she flirts with you just to see what happens," Y/BF/N said with amusement.

"It's just her personality," I mumbled, before putting my cap back on and taking a deep breath. "Time to work."

I continued to do my job as usual, thankfully not being affected by Wanda's presence, and took their orders. It was pretty uneventful as I served them their food and continued to hang with Y/BF/N by the counter. Every time I'd look over at her out of bad habit, I'd feel uneasy at the sight of Nate having his hands all over her. I mean, obviously he could – he was her boyfriend – but admittedly, I was a little jealous. I tried to ignore the feeling by busying myself with other things.

Wanda's friends were being a little noisier and rowdier than I'd liked, but it wasn't particularly busy so I saw no need to shut them up. Yeah, in hindsight, maybe I should have.

Clearing a table after some customers left, I balanced a tray of glasses in my hand and headed back to the counter. But on the way, a football came out of nowhere and got launched at my chest, making me drop the tray onto the floor with a loud crash. The rowdiness from Wanda's table ceased momentarily, as did the chatter from other customers, and I looked up to see Nate and his friends watching me, trying to suppress laughter.

"I am so sorry," Nate called with anything but guilt.

"Shit, Y/N, you okay?" Y/BF/N said, racing to my side in an instant.

I nodded, clenching my jaw, and bent down to clean up the mess. My boss must have heard the commotion as she came out from the kitchen and saw what happened, putting two and two together.

"Right, all of you out," she ordered without questioning anything, looking to Nate and the rest of the table. "We don't tolerate that tomfoolery here."

They groaned their complaints, but I didn't bother looking up to see, instead focusing on cleaning up the mess. Luckily for me, the tray took most of the hit rather than my chest, so unlike last time, I wasn't hurt.

"You're lucky I'm not charging you for the broken glasses, honey," my boss continued to scold Nate as he walked past, grabbing his football.

I saw feet shuffling past me, presuming it was their table leaving, and focused on picking up the large shards of glass and putting them on the tray. Y/BF/N helped out, even though he didn't need to, and I smiled at him as he knelt opposite me doing the same.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Wanda's voice grabbed my attention, making me look up. She had a guilty frown on her lips as she looked between the mess and I.

I stood up, shaking my head. "It's fine. It's–" But I stopped speaking, instead letting out an exhausted sigh. "No offence, but your boyfriend is a dick."

She pressed her lips together, not saying anything. I felt bad for saying it, but this was the second time he'd hit me with his stupid ball. It was true.

"I should clean this up," I mumbled, avoiding her eyes. "See you at school."

She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. I knelt down and continued to clean up, hoping she'd walk away already. This was awkward enough as it was.

"See you guys at school," she finally spoke, making me pause. "Sorry, again."

Y/BF/N bid her a goodbye before she left for good. I let out another sigh, deciding not to say anything as I continued cleaning up. It would never make sense to me why someone as lovely as Wanda would be with someone as obnoxious as Nate. I guess I'd never know.

—

Since that lovely incident at the pizza parlour, things had been a little distant between Wanda and I. Mostly on my part if I'm being honest. I couldn't help it – the whole situation had been uncomfortable and embarrassing, making it impossible to return to how we usually were.

This meant that Wanda was the one to come to me and check in, which I definitely wasn't expecting.

I was at home one afternoon, hanging with my older sister who was staying with us for a week. She'd moved out a year ago, getting her own place a few towns over, so I missed her presence a lot. I took advantage of her weekly visit by having a catch up as we played basketball in the front drive.

Disclaimer: none of us were good at basketball, but the hoop came with the house and it was simply tradition for us to attempt to shoot baskets as we had a catch up. Only, this time, as we were talking, a loud car engine pulled us from our chat and we both spun around to see an unfamiliar car parking up.

"That must be mum's customer," Y/S/N realised, holding the basketball underneath her arm. She glanced at me with a quirked brow. "You think we're gonna get roped into helping?"

"Most definitely," I answered with a chuckle, and just on cue, our mum opened the garage door behind us.

She was a florist and had a large pick-up delivery for a customer today. Apparently they were a good friend, so she had the flowers delivered to our house and they were waiting in our garage until now.

"Can you girls give me a hand?" she asked my sister and I, motioning for us to go to her. "I'm gonna say hi. Just start bringing the crates out, yeah?"

We both saluted playfully before watching her go to the customer's car. My jaw dropped when I saw who it was – Wanda's mum. And to top things off, Wanda and Pietro were both with her, the three of them getting out of their car and greeting my mum with smiles on their faces.

"You cool?" my sister asked, nudging me slightly.

I closed my mouth, straightening up. "Yeah, yeah, duh."

She gave me a funny look but grabbed a crate and began to leave it in the drive for the moment. I swallowed the lump in my throat and did the same, knowing both Wanda and Pietro were approaching us after my mum pointed them our way.

"Y/N, hey," Wanda said, stopping before my sister and I. She gave my sister a friendly smile before looking to me with nervous eyes. "It's good to see you."

I tried to say something – anything – but my words got stuck in my throat and all that came out was a weird noise. Partially because of the awkwardness between us at my fault and partially because of how pretty she looked in her sundress.

"Hi, I'm Y/S/N," my sister cut in, noticing my quietness. She gave me a sideways glance before looking to the twins. "It's Wanda and Pietro, right?"

"Yeah," Wanda said with a smile, eyes lingering on mine before looking to my sister. "We're just helping our mum out to load the car."

"I'm the muscle," Pietro joked, lifting his bicep, making Wanda roll her eyes jokingly.

"Okay, muscle, you can come help me get these out the garage," my sister played along before looking to Wanda and I. "You guys okay to load the car?"

Wanda nodded. "Sure thing."

Y/S/N grabbed Pietro, who shot me a friendly smile, before leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Your sister seems nice," Wanda tried to make conversation as we both grabbed a crate and took it to the back of her mum's car.

"Yeah," I agreed uncomfortably. "She's just visiting."

Wanda hummed in acknowledgment, neither of us knowing what else to say. We walked past our chatting mothers before setting the crates in the back of her mum's car.

"Are we okay?" Wanda asked suddenly, as soon as our hands were free. I looked to her and saw she was debating something internally before looking to me. "I mean, I know we're okay, but I just– I feel like you've been off since, well... since Nate threw that ball at you."

My neck heated up with embarrassment as I cleared my throat; my eyes fell to the flowers in the crates.

"I really am sorry," she apologised again, resting a hand on my forearm, sending shivers up my spine. "He can be such a jerk sometimes. Does stuff without thinking."

"You don't need to apologise," I said, finally lifting my eyes to meet her anxious green ones. And I meant it – Nate's idiocy wasn't her fault and it was harsh of me to make her seem like it was. I sighed, knowing my distant behaviour would end here. "We're good, Wanda."

She still seemed uncertain. "You sure?"

I gave her my best smile, hoping she knew I meant it. "I'm sure."

Her tense shoulders relaxed and a relieved smile spread across her face. "Okay, good. I'm glad."

She held my gaze and I just knew my heart was beating too fast to be useful as she did. She was just so beautiful.

"You know, the whole point of splitting into teams was to be done quicker," Pietro's voice interrupted our staring contest.

He stepped between us, glancing between us with amusement, before setting a crate in the back of the car.

"Right, yeah, we were just on our way back," I said, smiling sheepishly.

Pietro smirked. "No harm no foul, princess."

I was taken aback slightly as he called me that, and even more taken aback when he plucked a flower from the crate and offered it my way.

"For you," he said, half joking and half serious.

Unsure what to say, I accepted the flower. "Er, thanks... I think."

Wanda crossed her arms behind him, eyes narrowed in his direction. I wondered what she was thinking, but never got the chance to ask as their mum's voice called out to us.

"Pietro, I paid to use the bouquets," she said with mild distress, "not so you could ruin them."

His cheeks flushed as he called back, "Sorry!"

I tried not to laugh as the three of us headed back to get the rest of the crates, being sure to set the flower to the side. We ended up filling her car with the bouquets before facing our parents as we bid them a goodbye.

"They're lovely, Y/M/N," Wanda's mum was complimenting the flowers. "Thank you again."

My mum patted her back. "Anytime, dear." She looked between the twins and my sister and I. "Thank you all for helping out."

Y/S/N and I smiled her way as Wanda's mum nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, thank you!" she added, looking to Y/S/N and I. "It's so great to see you all together. Especially you two, Wanda and Y/N. It's nice to know you're good friends after so long of barely speaking."

Wanda's face was beginning to turn pink as I'm sure mine was doing the same.

"Yes, I agree," my mum said with a smile. "Anyway, we won't keep you any longer. Good luck with the banquet!"

Wanda and Pietro waved goodbye to Y/S/N and I before joining their mum in the car. I followed her figure subconsciously, butterflies floating in my stomach until their car was gone.

"Damn, I really missed a lot," Y/S/N said when they were gone, wrapping an arm over my shoulder and tugging me closer. "You're crushing hard."

Instantly, I looked to her. "What? What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes, letting go of me. "So we're playing that game. Okay. I'll bite."

As she began to walk away, I chased after her. "What game? Y/S/N? What are you talking about?"

She merely laughed and allowed me to chase her, wondering how the hell she knew of my crush on Wanda. Was I that obvious?