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https://www.linkedin.com/company/budlong-&-associates-inc.
Budlong
Engineering Services
Los Angeles, California 807 followers
Engineering Outside the Box for Over 60 Years
About us
For over 65 years, Budlong has been steadfast on delivering excellent engineering throughout Southern California. Our unique brand of solution building, innovative engineering, and high-quality team efforts is instilled in each new engineer who joins our multidisciplinary team. We strive to share our knowledge and pass down the best methods for every type of challenge. Many members of the Budlong family got their start within our company and have grown into brilliant leaders who now mentor a new generation of Budlong talent. In this way, Budlong is never unprepared.
Website http://www.budlong.com Industry Engineering Services Company size 51-200 employees Headquarters Los Angeles, California Type Privately Held Founded 1958 Specialties Electrical, Plumbing, Mechanical, Commissioning, Fire-Life Safety, Technology, Security, Low Voltage, Construction Management, and Commissioning
Locations
Primary635 W 5th St26th FloorLos Angeles, California 90071, US Get directions
315 Arden AveSuite 23Glendale, California 91203, US Get directions
400 West Ventura Blvd. Suite 240Suite 240Camarillo, CA 93010, US Get directions
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https://nosvindico.co.in/electrical-safety-audit/
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https://northstar-ehs.com/electrical-safety-audit/
Electrical hazards, such as shocks, burns, injury, fire, and explosion, continue to pose a threat to people’s and property’s safety.
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Pick-A-Pile: Their Career: What Profession or Field is Your Future Spouse In?
👑Check out my masterlist to see all of my pick-a-card readings😊
✨ Visit my shops at Ko-fi.com or J.Goddess Tarot✨
🔮Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are based upon my intuitive interpretation of the cards and about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.
🔮How I read: I use a mix of tarot cards, oracle cards, along with my intuitive abilities of claircognizance, clairaudience, and clairsentience.
🔮How this works: Close your eyes and take deep breaths, pick the pile you are most drawn to. If you aren’t drawn to any pile then that’s okay, these messages aren’t for you.
Pile 1
Tarot Cards: 5 of Cups, The Lovers, The Hermit (in reverse), Queen of Cups, The Chariot
Ah, my sultry Pile 1's! Embark with me on an intoxicating voyage to uncover the career secrets of your elusive future love.
Picture a soul who's tasted the bittersweet symphony of life. They've endured setbacks, but here's the allure: instead of languishing in bygone disappointments, they've channeled these lessons, forging a path glowing with promise. Like a phoenix, they've taken their setbacks and used them as fuel, emerging brighter and more determined.
Now, imagine them weaving through a world where harmony and connections reign supreme. Their charm lies in the art of building bridges, mending fences, and orchestrating unions. Their profession thrums with the rhythm of relationships, be it in the hallways of legal battles, the nuanced dance of consultancy, or the embrace of human resources. Their every endeavor is painted with passion, fostering environments dripping with mutual respect.
But, the plot thickens. Rather than being an isolated genius, they thrive in the pulsating heart of collaborative arenas. Their days are painted with group dynamics, team brainstorming, and the infectious energy of collective creation. Every project, a harmonious dance of diverse minds.
In this riveting tale, their heart emerges as their compass—a wellspring of empathy, care, and intuition. Whether in the healing embrace of healthcare, the nurturing realms of social work, or the soulful corridors of counseling, their profession beckons to souls in need, offering solace and understanding.
And as our tale nears its climax, the essence of sheer willpower and ambition becomes palpable. This lover is destined to blaze trails, to dominate arenas with a fierce determination that sets the world alight. They are a force, a whirlwind of goals and victories, and their chosen field echoes with their triumphant strides.
To tie this enigmatic tale together, enchanting Pile 1's, your future lover’s career is an exhilarating blend of resilience, harmony, collaboration, empathy, and fierce ambition. This tantalizing mix promises a partner whose professional life mirrors a journey of challenges, triumphs, and heart. As Destiny weaves its tapestry, these revelations hint at the captivating tale of your shared future.
Pile 2
Tarot Cards: 5 of Swords, 10 of Wands, 2 of Swords, Ace of Cups, 8 of Wands
My tantalizing Pile 2's, prepare to embark on a riveting journey, delving into the exhilarating career landscape of your enigmatic future love.
Visualize a realm teeming with cutthroat competition and exhilarating duels of wit. In this world, your future spouse emerges as a master strategist, a maven who thrives amidst the electric tension of challenges. Their arena? Perhaps the high stakes corridors of corporate warfare or the intricate dance of political maneuvering.
Yet, with power comes responsibility. They might be ensnared in a web of weighty expectations, but ah, they wear their burdens like a king wears a crown—regal and undeterred. Every decision, every responsibility is borne with a grace that makes you wonder if they were born for this.
Peering deeper, we find them at the crossroads of pivotal decisions, casting judgments that ripple through time. The gavel of authority, the responsibility of steering ships through turbulent waters, they're at the helm, orchestrating outcomes with a finesse that's nothing short of mesmerizing.
But what fuels this fire? An undying passion, a wellspring of love for their craft. They're not just chasing gold or accolades, but a deeper calling, a passion that lights up their soul. Their realm could be awash with colors on a canvas, the poetic dance of numbers, or the rhythm of heartfelt melodies.
And as the tale unfolds, a whirlwind of motion emerges. Envision them dashing through airports, or fervently connecting with souls across continents, weaving stories, striking deals, or capturing moments at the speed of light. The pulse of journalism? The adrenaline of sales? The world awaits their next move.
In wrapping up our delicious tale, my alluring Pile 2's, Destiny paints your future lover as a formidable force in a world of strategy, responsibility, passion, and ceaseless motion. Their journey promises thrills, challenges, and the sweet taste of fulfillment. As the stars align and tales intertwine, remain receptive, for destiny has its own rhythm, and your dance is just beginning.
Pile 3
Tarot Cards: 10 of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles (in reverse), 6 of Wands (in reverse), 10 of Swords, 3 of Swords
Ah, my alluring Pile 3's, immerse yourself as we journey into the opulent tapestry of your future lover's career. Let the tantalizing revelations unravel, revealing a narrative you'll surely find hard to resist.
First, picture a world awash with prosperity—a realm where luxury isn't just a fantasy, but an everyday reality. In this gilded domain, your future partner thrives, perhaps manipulating the strings of business empires, orchestrating the ballet of real estate, or mastering the cryptic language of finance. They've crafted an empire, not just of wealth, but of ambition realized and dreams manifested.
But ah, the plot thickens! Every gold thread in this tapestry was spun amidst trials. In their earlier days, shadows of doubt and walls of disregard might have threatened to eclipse their brilliance. Yet, with indomitable spirit, they emerged, carving a niche where their genius could no longer be overshadowed.
Despite the accolades and the tangible trophies of success, there's an enigmatic humility to them. They waltz through the corridors of achievement, not with boisterous fanfare, but with a quiet confidence. They let their masterpieces echo their tales, garnering silent respect from every corner.
As our tale takes a riveting turn, we find them at a crossroads—a dramatic shift that upended their world but paved the way to their destiny. A switch that might've tasted bitter initially, but ultimately led them to their passion, their true north.
And oh, the finale? A heart so vast, so tender. Their profession might echo with the soft murmurs of comforting words, the healing touch that mends broken spirits. Whether in the embrace of healthcare, the sanctuary of counseling, or the comforting realms of social work, their purpose is clear: to heal, to comfort, to uplift.
To wrap up our sumptuous saga, delectable Pile 3's, Destiny paints your future lover as a beacon of resilience, prosperity, humility, transformation, and boundless compassion. Their career is not just a job; it's a testament to a journey of trials turned triumphs. As fate weaves its stories, savor these revelations and remain enchanted by the cosmic dance of love and Destiny."
Other Resources:
Website: https://www.jgoddesstarot.com/
YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/JGoddessTarot
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#j goddess tarot#tarot community#tarot reading#pick a card#jgoddess tarot#pick a pile#tarot pick a card#pick a card reading#intuitive tarot reader#future spouse readings#bipoc tarot reader#bipoc#future spouse pick a pile#future spouse reading#future partner pac#future spouse#future spouse pick a card#pick a picture#pac reading#future spouse career
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More fluff snippets; two 2nd pov and two 1st pov. Mainly fluff, but some humor and shenanigans too.
7- falling asleep in each other’s arms
I did not like to admit it, but I’d been nervous over this party being held at Smg4’s castle. One that would end with some movies I had no input on, when I ought to have been consulted, seeing as I’d seen every moving picture that existed. Surely that counted for something, didn’t it?
Surprisingly, this party went much better than I initially believed it would.
Sure, many of Smg4’s friends gave me the cold shoulder, or even outright ignored me, but at least no one was being outwardly hostile.
I considered this an improvement.
It helped that Smg4 and 3 held some tolerance toward me, but I was…quite content with your company this evening.
I’d taken to settling on the sofa in a supine position, and in the past hour, you’d fallen asleep on me.
Tari had offered a blanket, a few minutes after this.
I’d taken the offered blanket to drape over you, very well aware and self-conscious of all the eyes on me.
Once the attention was on the next movie, my focus went back to you, the expression on my screen softening. I didn’t notice that Tari was still watching, and had quietly ‘awed’ over the way I was treating you so gently.
It was a surprise to me that I fell asleep halfway during the second movie. It was not as deep of a sleep as I could usually manage, but it was enough that I didn’t notice candid photos being taken of you and I, other joints in as if in disbelief that I was capable of having of such a different to myself.
8- mumbling unintelligibly into the embrace
You’d had an unnerving encounter the night before with your roommates.
The three of you had been marathoning a movie series that weekend when the power had gone out. This meant it had been scary to hear the sound of breaking glass with no alarm blaring due to said electrical outage. Neither you nor your roommates had been able to call for help until the burglar had gone upstairs, before a cellphone was used.
There was no answer, as it appeared all of the small town had lost its power.
You hadn’t began to panic until you couldn’t connect to Mr. Puzzles’ world either, but before that panic could really set in, the burglar suddenly let out a yell.
A thudding sounded, indicating the person may have had an unexpected tumble down the stairs accompanied by curses. To add to the confusion, something fell from the top floor down, causing the burglar to scramble out of the way of something that then crashed.
Something must have been flung past the burglar’s head after that, from the sound of a smaller thud against a wall.
None of you checked; you and your roommates remained huddled down out of sight.
The front door’s lock was opened, and a slam of the door itself soon followed, indicating that was unlocked, opened and then slammed shut.
A pause, then Derek, one of your roommates, spoke into the tense air. “What the hell was that all about?”
You didn’t say anything, merely relieved that it was over with, hopefully. At least you were going to see Mr. Puzzles tomorrow, so you had something to look forward after that.
In all honesty, you should have figured out why the burglar had fled so suddenly, but things only fell into place when Mr. Puzzles was instantly near the gateway between your world and his to greet you.
Puzzles appeared to be getting better at gauging other people’s mood as of late, as he wordlessly accepted you into his arms. The tv headed man held you in the small room within a snug embrace. Mr. Puzzles stooped a little in order to surround you in order to offer as much comfort as much as he could. He couldn’t have possibly known what had happened, as you quietly speak into his chest what had happened. You were taken aback when Mr. Puzzles spoke in a low, fury laced tone.
“Are you all right after last night?”
“Did my message get through?” You asked in return.
“I didn’t receive any message, so I decided to…come and check in.” Mr. Puzzles answer was a low growl with static edging into his voice.
“You scared the burglar away.” You felt Puzzles’ arms tighten around you.
“I don’t think he expected to find me sitting in a dark room with a ‘crazed, unhinged’ expression..” The tv man agreed without hesitation.
“Rose is going to be mad that you broke her tv.” You pointed out.
“That poor outdated widescreen tv had it coming.” Mr. Puzzles stated tartly. “As did that dratted baseball bat.” A beat of silence, then, curiosity. “Did that break too?”
“Nope.”
“Unfortunate.” Puzzles lamented, a little dramatically, as he lowered his metal head to nuzzle one side of your face. “But as you don’t want me to ‘kidnap’ people into my ‘tv mind dimension’ I had to make do with what was available. I’m…not much of a fighter.” Puzzles’ voice trailed off at the admittance.
“You might have been able to get to the police station and back before he took anything.” You lean into the hug the man still had you wrapped within. “But thanks for looking out for me and my roommates, even if they still think I’m crazy to date you.”
“You’re welcome, my dear.” Mr. Puzzles swept you off your feet to carry out of the room that held the gateway. He made a face, his screen showing annoyance before it became the resignation of one who didn’t want to say something, but would anyway. Mr. Puzzles sighed. “Smg4 said he had something to show everyone, and you are invited.”
“Think he’d be offended that I’d rather just spend some time with you after last night?”
“Doubtful.” Mr. Puzzles said quickly as he leaned his head into you again. “I’d say I’m a lucky man.” Puzzles all but purred through his speakers, as his arms tightened around you. “Ask Smg4 to see it later. He loves to show off.”
“Pot calling kettle black.” You teased, getting comfortable in Mr. Puzzles arms.
“Ah, but the difference is that I only care about your opinion versus the others.” Puzzles’ expression flashed gleeful. “Smg4 hasn’t figured out I installed a device to randomly delete non-essential data to make him think he’s lost content, along with a little surprise.”
“Rude.” You playfully prod the side of Mr. Puzzles metal tv head. “He catch on yet?”
“MR. PUZZLES WHAT THE HECK DID YOU DO TO MY COMPUTER?!” A loud shout rang out.
“Just now.” Mr. Puzzles said smugly.
You clung to the man’s shoulders as long lanky legs took both of you off down a path with an upset Smg4 in pursuit.
“I was just about to show everyone some really cool memes and your stupid face popped up instead!” Smg4 continued on, fall by a little behind but otherwise kept pace with Mr. Puzzles.
“You sure we’re going to be able to hang out?” You casually asked, glancing up at Mr. Puzzles screen, which had gone to grim annoyance with a furrowed brow and a technicolor frown.
You saw why.
The path ahead was blocked by Smg3, Meggy, and a few others.
Almost at once, you’re set on your feet before Mr. Puzzles was ganged up on by Smg4, Mario and Meggy, the tv headed man spluttering at the way he was being manhandled back in the direction of the castle to fix whatever he’d done.
This left you alone with Smg3, as the others had followed after 4.
“I guess since there’s been a change in plan…any chance at a drink?” You asked Smg3. “Eggdog’s watching your cafe when you’re not there, right?”
“Ha! That scrub ruined his chance to show off whatever stupid meme he thinks is funny.” Smg3 appeared to briefly think about following the others to heckle Smg4, but at your mention of his cafe and Eggdog, 3 lit up, red eyes brightening at the prospect at getting more customers. “I guess so.” Smg3 eyed you with played-up suspicion. “You got money this time? I can’t be giving out freebies all the time. I got a reputation to maintain!”
You are pretty certain 3 would give you freebies regardless, since you actually tended to hang out in his cafe more often than the others. The fact Smg3 had live ammunition in the building was a bit dicey, but it was a fun atmosphere, especially if Swag and Chris showed up, or someone else who’d zero in on the weapons and bombs instead of the food and drinks.
It was fascinating to watch someone suddenly ragdoll and fly out the wall without any harm.
“I do, actually.” You answered 3 as you caught up with him on the path that led to the showgrounds. “I may have…borrowed it.”
“Oh?” A grin slowly made its way on onto Smg3’s face. “And by borrow, you mean steal, yeah? And after you said that stealing was wrong?”
“Stealing is wrong. In my world.” You clarify, with a smile of your own. “Here, it seems that ‘stealing’ is more acceptable so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. And Mr. Puzzles has quite a lot of money he just…leaves in plain sight, so I figure a little doesn’t hurt?”
“Nice.” 3 said approvingly. “Someone needs to keep that tv freak in line.”
“I have a feeling he knows. I think Puzzles just doesn’t mind if I treat myself once and awhile with less…extravagant purchases.”
“Ugh.” Smg3’s amusement at Mr. Puzzles’ stolen money turned to a grimace at the reminder that you and Puzzles were in a relationship. “It’s nauseating when he’s in those lovey-dovey moods.”
You laughed at the fake gag of disgust Smg3 made as he opened the door to the cafe, about to let you go in first when he saw apparently caught sight of something. He swore and tugged you back, out of the way of a sword being flung out the open door.
A heated tirade in Japanese rang out along with 3’s name as Saiko flung another weapon out.
“I did not understand a word of that other than she’s talking to you, 3.” You say, taking another cautionary step back.
“Wait here.” Smg3 grimaced as Saiko’s voice got louder. “I’ll go take care of this.” 3 stomped into the cafe and raised his voice in return, a mini battle and explosions ringing out in the cafe.
You were never going to get used to the casual violence, especially when Smg3 returned to let you into the cafe with a dagger embedded into one of his shoulders.
“Doesn’t the hurt?” You asked, following 3 to the counter.
“Eh, I’ve had worse.” Smg3 tugged the blade out with a wince, but apart from that, the injury didn’t seem to bleed profusely.
What?
How?!
“The usual?” 3 asked, casually tossing the dagger somewhere near his feet.
“Sure…” You glance at a pasty. “And one of those.” You exchange money before taking a seat warily at a table with Saiko. There was a sense of relief that she’d not only calmed down, but Saiko someone spoke with you, there were subtitles so you could understand her.
That had taken some getting used to as well.
The two of you had an animated discussion about music until Smg3 deposited your drink and pastry at the table; you caught a quick glare between the pink haired woman and the shorter man.
Luckily, Eggdog diffused the tension by hopping onto your lap.
You cooed at the silly shaped critter and pet Eggdog, noting the softening in Smg3’s expression at the sight of Eggdog.
Saiko’s attention went to the door, a scoff-laugh emitting.
You and 3 look over, to see the sight of Mr. Puzzles inching his way along the ground with a determined expression, tied-up from ankle to collarbone that didn’t allow him easy movement.
“Lame. I would have left you stung up somewhere for people to laugh at.” Smg3 commented, then paused as he looked at you, back down at the tv headed man, then to staring Saiko down with a questioning look.
Saiko stared back, then smiled as she glanced down at Mr. Puzzles, who scrunched up defensively in response.
“Don’t you dare!” The bound man static-growled in a higher pitch.
You sipped your drink and ate your pastry while Mr. Puzzles begged for you to help him as Saiko, Smg3 and Bob (who’d just shown up) gleefully dragged and then used duct tape to pinion Mr. Puzzles to the wall like he was a decoration.
You helped ‘rescue’ the man later once you’d had your fill of the chaos (someone had decided to hold a competition to see who could remove the most duct tape without letting Mr. Puzzles fall off the wall).
Puzzles sulked for some time once freed, in the corner of the cafe that wasn’t as crowded. He eventually accepted an ‘apology’ for not coming to his rescue sooner via you cuddling with him.
This, in turn, annoyed Smg3 whenever he looked up from the counter and saw the two of you there snuggling, though 3 soon turned his ire on Smg4 when he came in to show off his cool memes.
9- caressing their back while holding each other
A party was being held in the castle, and dancing involved.
With some persuasion, you were able to convince Mr. Puzzles to dance with you.
Since the tv headed man was comfortable enough around the smg4 crew to be (somewhat) open to being affectionate and softer around you, he accepted the offer of a dance with some dramatic flourish. He even proffered an arm to you with a pleased digital smile, as if you didn’t actually have to persuade him to dance with you.
The dancing eventually became a sway as the music switched to a slower song.
Mr. Puzzles quietly sang to you, taking the lead again while the two of you enjoyed the peaceful moment, until Puzzles noted that you’re tiring. He ended the current dance with a flourishing bow before Mr. Puzzles led you off to the side to rest.
Once seated on a bench, you leaned into Mr. Puzzles side while he wrapped an arm around you, shuffling closer while you slip an arm behind him too. You toyed with one of the suspender straps before trailing your fingers along his lower back, before settling your hand.
Mr. Puzzles shivered as he brought you closer to his side, humming delightedly.
“Eugh.” Smg3 made a face as he passed by. “Don’t get so close or you two might combine into one person.”
“Isn’t that what Mario said to you and Smg4, when you attempted to take Smg4’s laptop?” Mr. Puzzles asked smoothly. “Or should I say, when you attempted to take something from off the device?”
“No.” 3 denied immediately, even as he stomped off. He paused to point warningly at the massive grin on the tv man’s screen. “Forget what you saw! I just wanted to steal his newest meme for my stream!”
“Nuh-uh.” Mr. Puzzles had the audacity to do a playback on his screen of the incident in full view of Smg3 and a few others who’d wandered over to see what was going on.
You swiftly duck out from under Mr. Puzzles arm and his side as you hastily stand and step backward.
3 tackled the taller man off the bench and to the floor in an attempt to try and cover up the screen.
Mr. Puzzles let out a maniacal laugh and used the one hand bit being used to fend Smg3 off to turn the volume of his tv head up, drawing even more people in the castle over to see what was going on, including Smg4.
“Wow, I didn’t know you two were that close.” Bob commented, peering over 3’s shoulder. “Do you think I can pick up women by wrestling them for their laptop?”
“Why are you wrestling for the laptop like that?” Tari wondered.
“Hey, you stuck a usb into the laptop!” Smg4 suddenly cut in as he reached over to yank Mr: Puzzles metal head toward him.
Smg3 yanked it back to try and hide the screen.
Puzzles shifted uncomfortably but was still letting out unsettling laughter to the soundtrack of the scene playing on his screen.
“Ooooo. That’s-a where Mario put his show of spaghetti...” The Italian was suddenly there, leaning over both Smg4 and 3’s shoulders as the latter two snap their heads to the side to glare at the former.
“You stole my usb!” Smg3 griped.
“Mario, what the hell, man, I had stuff saved on there!” 4 added in exasperation.
Mr. Puzzles pointedly jumped to the point where Mario did, in fact, slip the usb away while the other two had been otherwise occupied try to (poorly) beat the shit out of one another.
“I don’t-a know what you’re talking about.” Mario offered hastily, despite surely seeing the screen. This was shown by Mario creating a diversion as he quite out of the blue lunged over 3 and 4’s should to punch Mr. Puzzles in his screen and ran off. Mario then proceeded to let out a ‘wahh’ soundtrack noise as he ran away.
Mr. Puzzles let out a shriek of offense at the shattered screen, hands flying up to protect his face from further harm.
Mario didn’t get far as Smg3 and 4 pounced on him, preventing his departure from the castle.
“Where the hell is my usb?”
“Give it to me, Mario! Don’t let 3 have it!”
The three shorter men began arguing with one another over the missing usb, eventually taking it outside the castle when Mario inevitably slipped away, Smg4 and 3 hot on his heels.
You spent the rest of the evening petting Mr. Puzzles neck and the back of his tv casing soothingly.
Puzzles nursed his broken screen with an air of injured dignity and fuming fury, even if the had brought it on himself by dealing with the uncontrollable force that was Mario when he knew better.
10- reveling in their body warmth
I often found myself back on that armchair; the one that was big enough to comfortable hold my taller frame. And as time passed, I also began to spend more time sitting on it because I was curled up on the armchair with you.
I was presently holding you snugly in my arms while you dozed against my chest, your legs off the side of the armchair this time versus resting along my own.
It was rather endearing to me when you would sleepily move closer into my chest and shoulder before settling again.
I had my fingers intertwined with one of your own, lightly petting the back of you hand. My other arm was wrapped around your back to support you.
You were so warm compared to me.
A perfectly normal temperature, as one would expected of a human.
I, on the other hand…was no longer a temperature that would be considered that of an average human.
What remained of my human body did not adhere to the normal physics of one, nor the temperature. My torso and waist ran much cooler than your body, but it was somewhat warmer than my metal robotic limbs.
I shook the unpleasant thoughts of my body’s state away, and chose to focus on my enjoyment of holding you close to him. When I held you like this, I could remember, distantly, what it felt like to be a human with a normal human temperature. I could feel a little warmer, when I held you so close to me in my arms.
Tuning back into the present, I carefully nuzzled the top of your head with the lower part of my screen, causing static to build up in your hair.
It caused a sleepy mumble to rise from you.
I chuckled lowly at this before quieting as I got myself into a comfortable position while waiting for you to wake back up.
#screams in writing writes#mr puzzles x reader fluff snippets#Some smg4 and co show up#Mario continues to be an uncontrollable force
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Act like a brat, get punished
Pairing: mobster aged-up!Jongho x non-idol!Hongjoong
Genre/trope/AU: smut/strangers to lovers/mafia AU
Wordcount: 2,995 words
Rating: mature
Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet
“I’m sorry, my son. You now belong to this man.”
“We had no other choice! We didn’t get the money in time so this was our best option.”
Hongjoong was tired. He was so tired. He knew his parents were poor, but he didn’t realize that their poverty was so bad that they had to resort to borrowing money from the mafia. The chilling discovery of this reality happened today. He was working four jobs. Three mundane 9 to 5 jobs and one small business that involved his designing skills. Hongjoong loved fashion. It was the only thing he had going on at this point. After the death of Beomjoong, he had to pick up the slack and become the main breadwinner of his family. His dad was a retired electrical engineer while his mom was a part-time worker at a food stall located in the mall just a block away from their cramped apartment. As he stared back and forth in between his parents and the man they owed money to, he sighed heavily. He took off his hat, wiped his sweaty brow, pinched the bridge of his nose out of frustration, and simply walked past them to retrieve his things. The man Hongjoong’s parents owed money to looked at the young man in shock as he came back downstairs with a dufflebag packed to the brim with almost nothing. Just a few clothes he reformed, a laptop for online fashion school, his sewing machine, and a few stacks of bills he had stashed away for an emergency fund. His head was hung low and he threw the bills at his parents’ feet.
“Y-You’re not going to fight back? Or beg to stay?”
“There’s no point. Now come on. Let’s go. I’m sure you don’t want to be late or whatever.”
As Hongjoong brushed past the people that gave him life (he no longer viewed them as parents), he looked at the man wearily before nodding his head, indicating that he’ll be near whatever expensive car or creepy van the man drove in. To say it puzzled the man and broke his heart at the same time was an understatement. After Hongjoong shut the door behind him, the man’s resolve hardened and he scowled at his parents.
“Look at you two. You basically let him walk out! He didn’t fight, beg, or compromise with me. He just… left. How does it feel to know that your entire family is gone? Only this time… you’re the cause of it?”
Hongjoong’s mother broke down in tears while Hongjoong’s father bent down to comfort her. He looked at the money in disdain before looking back up at the man. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, the big watch on his left wrist sticking out like a sore thumb. The father was about to say something when the man held his hand up.
“Save it. You two now have money. And from the looks of it, your youngest son saved enough to last you guys a few years. Maybe even more if you’re wise about it. Despite being so… drained of life, he thought about you guys. Always. Consider this debt paid off.”
“B-But don’t we owe you so much more?”
“Eh. You do. However, seeing as he oh so willingly walked out of here without your consultation or mine, I think you guys can pay me back by living with the consequences of your actions. How does that sound?”
The father shut his mouth, knowing the man was right. The man clicked his tongue before adjusting his sleeves and bidding farewell to Hongjoong’s parents before exiting their apartment. He tuned out the mother’s wails that grew louder as he walked away, knowing that this is all she can do. After walking down the steps to the lobby (he refused to take the elevator. He claimed he was too cool for that), he stepped outside and breathed in the crisp air of the city’s nightlife before focusing his eyes on the man before him.
His heart ached painfully at the sight.
Hongjoong had his head hung low, his dufflebag was hanging loosely from his hand, tear streaks stained his handsome face, and his sniffles could be heard every now and then. The man cautiously approached him and tucked his fingers under Hongjoong’s chin so he could lift his head and observe him some more.
Hongjoong didn’t even flinch at the strange touches he was receiving! He truly was tired of it all.
“You can put your things in the backseat.”
Hongjoong nodded and the man unlocked the door to his expensive Mercedes so Hongjoong could throw his stuff in the back. He let out a quiet ‘Excuse me’ as he squeezed past the man and got into the front seat so he could get himself situated and mentally prepare for what was about to come. Once he was buckled up, the man went to the driver’s seat and closed the door beside him before buckling up and starting the engine. He felt extremely horrible for the younger man’s situation and he felt like he had to say something. Instinctively, he grabbed Hongjoong’s hand, making a note of the single painted nail on his left ring finger. For someone who liked to rough people up using his own bare hands, his touch was gentle.
“Hey. Look at me. Please.”
The man’s voice was gentle and Hongjoong looked up at him. Despite the hollow expression on his face, the man could tell that his eyes conveyed so much sadness and despair. He squeezed his hand gently and offered a small grin.
“I’m truly sorry that things had to be like this. How about we make a deal? Just do what I say and I’ll ask nothing else from you. You are free to do whatever you want. I won’t track you down, I won’t have any of my men stalk you, I won’t stop you from doing whatever you need to do, and most importantly… I won’t stop you from running away. If my men do track you down and harm you, I’ll kill them myself.”
Hongjoong’s heart skipped a beat as the man made his situation less of a living hell by putting this offer up on a silver platter. A small part of him doubted his words though. After all, he was part of the mafia. However, the geunity in his eyes and his words washed away that doubt momentarily. After thinking about it some more, he nodded firmly.
“Ok. I’ll take it. And I can tell you’re a man of your word so… I guess I trust you.”
The man felt relieved that Hongjoong took the deal and his grin grew bigger. Hongjoong couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like if his round cheeks got squished. He shook away the thoughts and expressed gratitude towards the man.
“You don’t have to thank me. You didn’t ask for this life so let me at least provide some sense of normalcy for you.”
“Still though. T-Thank you, sir.”
“Jongho. Call me Jongho.”
As the two drove off to Jongho’s mansion, Hongjoong looked back at the building complex he used to call home. With a calm mind and a rapidly beating heart, he awaited the new chapter in his life to begin.
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Living with Jongho wasn’t so bad! He stuck to his word and allowed Hongjoong to live his life like he normally would. Except for a few rules he made.
Always come home on time.
If you are invited to dinner, never say no.
Always sleep on time.
Focus on fashion school and growing his fashion business.
These rules didn’t sound as horrid as Hongjoong made it out to be. He practiced timing himself on studying for school and going home after he was done (he had a habit of holing himself up in one of the studios after hours on campus), he ate well, his insomnia was crushed by his newly adjusted body clock, and his fashion business was growing more famous as each day passed.
It was all thanks to Jongho.
In addition to Hongjoong’s lifestyle becoming healthier, he found himself falling in love with the older man. At first, he was afraid that Jongho would lash out and he would lecture on how he doesn’t even like men and that he wouldn’t go for someone as young as him. However, after a long night of heartfelt confessions, crying (Jongho let out his bottled up emotions), steamy make-out sessions, and passionate sex right on Jongho’s work table, it’s safe to say that the two were madly in love with each other and they embraced their bond more than ever. Currently, they are getting ready for dinner with some of Jongho’s work colleagues. Hongjoong has met the respective partners of each one, but he was closest with Jung Wooyoung, the fiance of San, Jongho’s older brother. As he thought about what type of weird conversation these two were going to have, he was snapped out of his thoughtful daze when he heard his boyfriend’s voice call out to him. He turned around and had to stifle a laugh.
Jongho looked absolutely fucking hot in the suit he picked out for this evening. The black button-up shirt clung to his muscled body deliciously, his tie was tucked into his vest, the black slacks he wore defined his meaty thighs, and his dress shoes were polished to perfection. He looked like a god! There was only one problem.
The vest was way too small for his body.
“That thing is ready to burst at the seams!”
Jongho chuckled nervously and his heart swelled with adoration as he heard Hongjoong giggle loudly. He saw the younger man approach him and watched as he carefully unbuttoned the vest with his dainty hands and a laser-type precision. Hongjoong made sure that the vest came off without it ripping apart. Finally, he shrugged it off his body and smoothed out any wrinkles the vest left behind on his shirt. Jongho willed himself to not grow a boner under his boyfriend’s touch. Hongjoong took a step back and observed him some more before nodding firmly.
“I think the look is fine. No need to add a blazer or anything else. Just throw on your winter coat and you’ll be all set.”
“This is why you’re the fashion expert.”
Hongjoong giggled as Jongho grabbed his waist and peppered kisses all over his face before pulling him into a hug. He felt himself become flushed at the mere sight of Jongho’s beefy body practically swallowing his tiny frame whole. He had to push him away after a while, causing Jongho to pout. Hongjoong booped his nose and squished his cheeks.
“Come on, lover boy! We don’t want to be late.”
Hongjoong skipped away and Jongho chuckled to himself before sighing happily and following after him so the two of them could make it to dinner on time.
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Dinner went great. Everyone had a good time, ate until they were full, drank until they couldn’t anymore, and paid for it all before leaving. While the six of them were left to explore the city, Jongho was driving at an ungodly speed back home to the mansion. Once they made it, he grabbed Hongjoong, hoisted him over his broad shoulder, tossed the keys to one of his servants so they could park the car, and clambered upstairs to their bedroom before throwing Hongjoong onto their shared bed.
“Did you think that was funny? Hm? Teasing me? Purposefully flirting with Seonghwa?”
Hongjoong shrugged, which made Jongho a bit angry. It didn’t help that Hongjoong had a dopey smile on his face, which was quickly wiped off when Jongho took off his belt and grabbed the tiny man’s wrists before securely tying him up so it was snug enough that he couldn’t shrug it off yet he didn’t feel pain. Jongho gripped Hongjoong’s chin and kissed him harshly. While one hand was keeping Joong’s head in place, the other ripped away his shirt with terrifying (and arousing) strength. His fingers delicately traced the hem of Joong’s skirt before pulling it off quickly yet carefully. He cursed under his breath when he saw Joong clad in nothing but a silver body chain and a silk thong.
“Well well well. You’re really just asking for it, huh?”
“I did this just for you though.”
Hongjoong pouted slightly, but Jongho never wavered. He can act as cute as he wants. He’s going to be punished like the brat he is. He released Hongjoong’s head and quickly snaked it down to his bound wrists before adjusting him so he could bend the younger man over his lap. With his ass raised in the air, his fingertips lightly skimmed over the curve of it. Jongho looked down at Hongjong, whose eyes were blown with lust.
“You’re going to count to 10. If you slip up, we’re starting over. And do not give me attitude. Or else I’ll go harder. Understand?”
“Yes, sir~”
The way Hongjoong said that and batted his eyelashes up at Jongho caused the man’s cock to strain painfully against the hard confines of his slacks. He was going to ruin the man below him. He soon raised his hand and swiftly brought it down onto one of his asscheeks. The sound echoed in the room and Hongjoong let out a yelp.
“One!”
Another smack.
“Two!”
Another.
“Three!”
Another.
“Four!”
As another one was delivered, Hongjoong swore he felt the marks starting to form since Jongho never took off his rings when he spanked him.
“Five!”
Another one was delivered and Hongjoong just knew that he wouldn’t be able to sit after this.
“Six.”
Hongjoong’s voice wavered yet Jongho still heard the word loud and clear. He wanted to stop there, but due to the mischievous look in his eyes and the way he bit his lip, it was a sign to keep going. He soon delivered another one.
“Seven!”
Two more.
“Eight!”
One more.
“Nine!”
Last one.
“10!”
Using his strength, Jongho lifted Hongjoong by the hips and made the younger man straddle him so he could kiss him fiercely and passionately. Hongjoong moaned into the kiss and he flinched a bit when Jongho’s fingertips skimmed through the reddened skin of his ass. He was soon laid down on his stomach and he felt Jongho’s plush lips kiss the reddened skin before he tore off the thong he was wearing.
Oh.
Jongho cursed loudly when he saw Hongjoong wearing the new buttplug he got him a few weeks back. It was his reward for being so obedient and never once breaking any of his rules. He dug his fingers into Hongjoong’s hair and yanked him backwards so his bare back was touching his clothed chest. Hongjoong moaned at the contact and Jongho’s lips ghosted over the shell of his ear.
“Did you wear this just for me?”
“Mhmm! Only for you, sir!”
“You’re such a good boy. Fuck! You make me so happy.”
Jongho angled Hongjoong’s head so their lips could meet once again. During this heated kiss, Jongho tore off his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt quickly before discarding it. The same went for his pants. When he was finally bare, Hongjoong felt Jongho’s huge cock be pressed up against his ass. Despite having sex with him before, Hongjoong will never get over how shockingly large Jongho was. Hongjoong felt his back hit the mattress and cringed slightly at the buttplug being pulled out from him. The cringe was soon replaced with pleasure as he felt himself being filled by his mobster boyfriend. As soon as Jongho bottomed out, he settled inside Hongjoong for a minute before pinning the tiny man’s bound wrists above his head with one hand and squeezing his throat with the other. He pulled out slowly until the tip was only in before slamming back into him harshly.
“JONGHO~”
Jongho chuckled darkly and began pistoning his hips at a fast pace. With each slap of skin, a moan slipped out of Hongjoong. They grew louder and louder with each passing second. Jongho then tilted Hongjoong’s head up towards the ceiling without letting go of his throat. Hongjoong’s eyes widened at his own fucked out reflection staring back down at him as he was getting dicked down.
Jongho recently installed those mirrors and now they were being put to good use.
“Look at you, darling. Being stuffed full of my cock like the bratty slut you are. God I love everything about you. From this body chain to the way you scream my name. You just love being fucked by an older man, huh? I can tell since you’re clenching around me so much. Go on. Say it!”
“F-FUCK! I LOVE IT! I FUCKING LOVE IT! SIR, PLEASE! PLEASE LET ME CUM! I’M SO CLOSE!”
“Since you asked so nicely.”
Jongho rammed into Hongjoong a few more times before Hongjoong let out the loudest moan and felt himself spill all over his body. Jongho reached his climax as well and stopped so he could empty himself inside Hongjoong. The two of them were breathing heavily, staring into each other’s eyes lovingly before Jongho pulled out of Hongjoong. He carried the younger man into the bathroom and ran him a hot bath before lowering him into the tub and climbing in afterwards. He wrapped his arms around his waist and the younger man snuggled into his chest.
“Best. Sex. Ever! I got to thank Wooyoung and tell him that this was worth it.”
“So Wooyoung put you up to this, huh?”
“Well… the body chain and buttplug were my ideas, but Wooyoung was the one that suggested that I acted like a brat.”
“I see. In that case, I’m glad that Wooyoung fed you that idea. You should be bratty often. I love it when I go rough on you.”
“Me too, Jongho. Me too…”
#mirohsaurorasociety#other side outlaws network#illusionnet#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#ateez smut
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But now we must know, what are your headcanons for the first generation of Gods siblings? Personally? Zeus isn’t allowed to swim with Poseidon cause they always fight and Zeus goes toaster in bathtub mode where he’s the toaster.
I haven't considered Zeus doing the "toaster in bathtub" thing. Thank you Anon, I will put this into my HC list :3333
Now on with the first-generation Olympians (it's gonna be a long ride, so strap on!)
Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, and Poseidon were swallowed when they were young kids/nearing adolescence, not newborn babies. I want Kronos and Rhea's family to have some years of happiness together before the prophecy ruin them all.
Out of the Big Six, Demeter and Hades look the most alike to Kronos (unrelated note: Persephone looks the most alike to Kronos out of the 2nd gen)
Demeter is Kronos' favorite child because she shares his power over agriculture. Kronos has even planned her future to be his successor as goddess of the harvest.
Poseidon has the fear of dark, closed places due to his trauma of being locked in Kronos' stomach. During his first centuries ruling the ocean, he cannot stay in his kingdom at night because the realm gets extremely dark and it paranoid him. Poseidon can't go to the deep trenches either.
To cope with his fear, Poseidon's bedroom is filled with bioluminescent algae and jellyfish.
After escaping Kronos' stomach, Hera was sent to take refuge at Oceanus and Tethys' place. Around this time, she became besties with Amphitrite (I see Amphi as a daughter of Nereus but she is close with the other sea deities too)
Thetis and Hera's friendship is underrated. Hera, Thetis, and Amphitrite have occasional girl's nights where they ditch their spouses to spend time together.
As besties Hera and Amphitrite share the same taste in men *looking at Zeus and Poseidon*
Hera and Amphitrite were not happy when Zeus married off Thetis. Oh boy, there were a lot of screaming and fighting for Thetis' behalf.
It was very surprising when Thetis later made her husband Peleus immortal (there is a version of that lol)
Zeus and Poseidon created the electric eel and other aquatic animals that produce electricity. The purpose? Ask them.
When Hebe was training to become the cupbearer of the gods, Zeus watched over her and gave her tips from time to time. He used to be the cupbearer of Kronos, too.
I am seriously contemplating on whether Poseidon have a thing for Odysseus or not. Like in "I want to fuck you up both ways".
Hades doesn't outright ban the others from coming to the Underworld. The reason he doesn't like them visiting often is because some will ask (read: screaming and crying at) him to resurrect their favorite mortals.
Hades adopted Cerberus some times after Typhon (Cerberus' bio father) was defeated and the doggo had nowhere to go. From then on Cerberus was living in luxury in the Underworld with the only job is to guard the door.
Hades has a messed up sense of humor after centuries of dealing with the dead, and Persephone got infected as well. If you ask Hades "Can you give me a hand?" he will give you an actual hand.
Hades x Persephone x Minthe OT3 is real.
Hades isn't some gloomy dark man. Yeah, he wears black a lot but also with gleaming gems and fine jewelries (you know, god of precious minerals and all).
You don't believe me? Here's the testimony:
(tfw your husband rocks his dress prettier than you :DDD)
The three kings didn't draw lots to determine who will rule which realm. During the Titanomachy, they grew fond over their future kingdom and showed hints of belonging to them.
Poseidon's first hint of becoming King of the Sea is that he makes lots of sea puns. Like, a lot.
They also don't have total rule over their kingdoms. Their authority is above all but still under the Primordials of their respective realms (Zeus is under Nyx, Poseidon under Pontus, Hades under Tartarus). Every time they make major changes in their kingdom, they have to consult the Primordials first.
Demeter isn't officially crowned ruler of the Mortal Realm but they all know she is in charge of the whole place.
Even though the Big Six preside over lots of domains, they don't always tend to each one themselves but have lesser deities like dryads, naiads, nepheles, etc. to assist them while they act like the head directors.
The marriages of the three kings and queens are more about political power than love. It's not that they don't have some feelings for each other though.
When they were young and Zeus is courting Hera, he once put on a peacock tail to woo her.
Demeter is married to Leto and they raised Persephone, Artemis, and Apollo together. I don't take objection.
All of the second-generation Olympians were taken care of by Hestia at least one time.
Do not mistake Hestia's dislike of violence for her incapability of inflicting violence. She can cause more damage than your mental health is prepare for.
Hestia doesn't yell or hit others, but disappointing her is the biggest crime.
Demeter makes the best vegetable dishes, roasts, soups, anything. Kids love veggies because of her. She can make you love broccoli with one meal.
Headacanon but also true myth: Demeter adopted and raised lots of kids on her own. Many of them later became her companions or spread the agricultural knowledge they learned from her to humanity. They all love mama Demeter.
Hera treats her daughters better than her sons, but it's because she is learning from her mistakes in bringing up Ares and Hephaestus. She isn't the best but she is trying everyday.
Zeus doesn't hate Ares, but what he reflects. Ares is a raw reminder of a darker side of Zeus that he'd rather pretend doesn't exist.
I've made this joke before but it's still relevant: The only thing more complicated than advance mathematics is Zeus and Hera's relationship with Ares.
Zeus' favorite children are Athena and Apollo, obviously. His least favorite (as in he doesn't care enough compared to others) are Ares and Persephone.
Iris and Chloris/Flora are not straight because of Hera, but they know they won't have any chances with her.
Zeus' first lover is Aëtos, an earth-born man who was his childhood friend when he lives in Crete.
In the modern world, the lock screen of Hera's phone has the picture of her family being happy together. And her home screen is the pic of Zeus in a Pikachu onesie.
#zeus#demeter#poseidon#hera#hades#hestia#the twelve olympians#greek gods#greek goddesses#greek mythology#sibling shenanigans#headcanons#ask me anything#tumblr ask#anon ask#long post#The Pen writes answering letters
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Ted’s hot-dogs
A short summer rain slightly refreshed a narrow street somewhere in the historical center of the city. The sun was already setting, the air was warm and humid.
I'm working late today, so I absolutely need a snack to get me through until the late evening. I walked down the stairs near the old shopping arcades and turned the corner.
Teddy always made his delicious hot dogs on this street. His red and white electric cart, always surrounded by a fragrant haze, can be seen from afar. I'd like some beef wurst with mustard, please!
Electric food cart
The electric cart is inspired by the work of designer Steve Guinness (The Brick Consultant). I took his Milk float delivery vehicle as a basis. I really love such tiny and neat models, which look very... toy-like, and have vibes of classic LEGO sets from forty years ago.
I built the same wheelbase with minor modifications, lengthening it to 9 studs, and put the same window in place of the windshield. Otherwise, I tried to make my version as different as possible from Steve’s model: I used a different color accent, gave rounded shapes to the roof and bumpers, changed the location of the headlights, and divided the interior space into two parts.
The result is somewhat reminiscent of a little tram. I thought about putting a small antenna on the roof, but abandoned this idea, because in this case the model would become too similar to a RC toy and it would look strange in my environment.
#lego#legophotography#toyphotography#brickcentral#afol#miniaturephotography#yuri badiner#nikon#nohypelego#moc#legomoc#hot dog#food
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Creek Turned AU
I tried doing something a little bit different, so please let me know what you think! Also, if anyone has any suggestions for titles that would be great cause ya girl was struggling HARD. Anyway, I hope you all like it! 🫶🫶🫶
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The wind howled in the night. Lightning crashed and boomed in the sky of charcoal-colored clouds, while raindrops heavier than stone rattled against glass panes. Safely indoors, Tweek Tweak sat cross-legged and alone, wrapped in a fleece blanket. He was one of the few people awake at this time, his roommate Jimmy sound asleep in his bedroom. The boy sat hunched over on his couch, flat from years of use, while gingerly holding his fifth cup of coffee.
Besides the occasional bolt, the only source of light inside the murky room was the TV. If you asked him, he probably couldn't even tell you exactly what was playing. No, the sleep-deprived boy was mentally going through his thunderstorm checklist. Created from information gathered from online articles, this routine, meant to protect his household, is practically carved into his mind.
Whenever this were to happen, Tweek wanted to make sure of two things; Stay away from metal tubing, and openings to the outdoors. He made this abundantly clear to Jimmy every time the sky began to roar. Being near water pipes was not allowed until the gloomy weather subsided. Tweek even brewed his evening pot of coffee in advance. He checked that all of the seats in the two boy’s apartment were away from any exterior exit, including their beds. Even now, Tweek was sitting in the rightmost corner of the worn sofa, as far away from the external chaos as he could be in the living room.
Tweek’s head whipped towards the window at the sound of rapid tapping. The lack of light forced him to squint to try to make out the root of the noise. A stroke of electricity then raced across the glass and illuminated the source. The boy’s startled expression turned horrified when the flash briefly revealed the silhouette of a looming figure, crouched down and hanging onto a ledge. He let out an ear-splitting shriek at the sight and bolted toward his bedroom. In his panic, Tweek hurled both his drink and quilt across the room; the cup flying into the television and shattered its screen into a sea of sparks.
The boy slammed his bedroom door shut and flipped the lock. He panted breathlessly as he sat slumped against the door, fists tangled in his mangy flaxen hair. In his frenzy, he didn't get a good look at who or what was trying to come inside. Now that he thought about it…
“…What the fuck was that?"
Tweek racked his brain to try to decipher what it was he was dealing with. If he remembers correctly, whatever it was had long angular legs and slender fingers. Something that large couldn't have been an animal, which meant it definitely was a person. The concept made the boy's sweat turn cold. What was a random stranger doing at his home at four in the morning? How did they even get there? Unless… it wasn't human.
The young boy was no newcomer to the world of the supernatural. The stories surrounding them had always interested him growing up, the certainty that monsters were simple folklore proved to be a pleasant distraction from the constant stress he endured. However, what Tweek saw in the rain flushed all of that previous comfort away. Its nighttime appearance, its ability to climb onto high places, all of the form’s characteristics reminded Tweek of what he read about vampires. He decided to consult his encyclopedia just to be sure.
Tweek scampered over to his shelf to consult the book. He wiped the carpet of dust off its cover, coughing from the fluttering particles. His fingers grazed its leather cover and golden imprinted lettering. It brought back memories of his teenage years. He purchased the almanac after he saw the movie Twilight, as a way to defend himself just in case pointed-toothed Casanovas infested his school’s campus. Tweek flicked open the guide and quickly scanned its pages. Reading the entry on vampires and connecting it to what he saw, the boy concluded that he was most likely dealing with a fanged merciless creature of the night. He continued to read the chapter. It said that these beings can only come inside if they are invited. As long as Tweek didn't do that, he and Jimmy would be safe.
The boy decided to confront the unknown intruder with the courage he scraped from this newfound information. The book stated that holy objects repel devilish fiends, so he brought his silver rosary for protection. As Tweek tiptoed out of his bedroom, gripping his necklace, his mind flooded with worry. What if the encyclopedia instructions were wrong? What if the brute was already inside lurking about, waiting for the perfect chance to strike? Or even worse, what if Tweek got bitten and was forced to slaughter people for eternity? Not only does that seem absolutely revolting, but Tweek couldn't even fathom the number of STDs he would get from drinking the blood of complete strangers.
The floorboards creaked beneath Tweek’s feet as he tiptoed into the living room. The lightning had stopped, and the flatscreen was smashed, leaving the room in an eerie black void. The darkness was so strong that the boy could no longer see the visitor perched outside. He opted to turn on the lamp that stood near the right side of the sofa; Tweek wanted to be as far away from the invader as possible. As he reached for the lamp's switch, he paused at the ding of more tapping coming from the window, promptly accompanied by a male voice.
“Tweek? Can you let me in, I’m freezing my ass out here.”
The blonde could swear the man sounded familiar. His tone was dull and nasal, almost as if he had the flu. It reminded him of Craig Tucker, an old comrade who has been missing for weeks. Now curious, Tweek clicked the lamp on. His morpho blue eyes were dumbfounded at the sight of his lost buddy. Why was he here of all places? The two weren’t very close despite sharing many friends. Tweek decided to abandon his initial assumption that the foreigner was of the occult, he was certain that Craig wouldn't hurt him.
“Dude, stop staring and let me inside.”
Craig’s blunt statement yanked Tweek out of his thoughts. He was standing zoned out while staring at the boy… who was still sitting in the cold.
“Oh geez, I'm sorry!” he apologized.
Tweek darted to the window to let him in. As soon he twisted the latch open, Craig instantly started to wiggle his way inside to escape the downpour. In his haste, the boy's drenched sneakers slipped on the ledge and he tumbled onto the floor with a curse and a weighted thud.
“Agh, I'm sorry Craig! Are you okay?”
“Stop apologizing. I'm fine, just help me up.” His lips were downturned in a sour expression.
Tweek scurried down to assist Craig, who grimaced in pain upon their immediate contact. The skin of his palm sizzled from Tweek’s rosary; He had forgotten to set it down. Craig kneeled on the floor while he gripped his burning palm.
“What the hell, man! Why are you holding that?!” he hissed.
Tweek was on the verge of shouting yet another apology when he glimpsed two short pearly white daggers on the inside of Craig's mouth. He almost tripped over his feet trying to retreat from the boy, screaming and holding his necklace to his chest as he backed away. Tweek's mouth was aghast as he gawked at Craig. He was wrong in deserting his plan, and because of that now he was doomed to be an undead nightcrawler who treats people like human Capri-Suns.
“You’re a fucking vampire?! This is why you wanted me to let you in, so you could eat me!”
“Tweek, calm down. I'm not going to eat you; I just need somewhere to lay low for a bit. You’re always up late, so I came here. Besides, you drink so much coffee I bet your blood tastes like shit anyway.” Craig reasoned.
Tweek felt somewhat comforted by the boy's insult. He had forgotten how vulgar he could be. At least he wasn't going to get killed.
“Alright then, I believe you… for now. I’ll go grab a towel for you, and something for your hand.”
The nappy-haired boy stood up and set out for the items. He grabbed a towel, a dampened cloth, and a gauze bandage. When he returned with the objects, Craig had moved to stand in the center of the room by the coffee table. His pain seemed to subside a bit since his face shifted from aching to a simple furrowed brow. He also stopped cradling his injury. Tweek approached the boy and presented him with the chilled cloth and gauze.
“Aren’t vampires supposed to have regeneration powers? I figured you would have healed already.” Tweek questioned.
“Stuff like that only happens in the movies. I have noticed that my body does heal faster than normal, but it still takes a while.” Craig replied.
A shower of silence fell over the room. Tweek settled as Craig continued to mend his wound. In the meantime, the boy seized the opportunity to finally get an in-depth look at his friend's face. He really hasn’t seen him in a long time, no one has. At first, their group didn't question it. Everyone simply shrugged it off as Craig being Craig, including Tweek. The loner always was the kind of person to not care about others and just disappear as he pleased. However, as time went on with no word from him, the group began to worry that something awful happened. They were all dwelling on his whereabouts, but no one could track him. Tweek knew that this was the reason.
Still watching on, the caffeine-addict couldn’t help but notice Craig's appearance. While the boys were both fair-skinned, compared to Tweek, the ghouls' skin was a moonlike gray. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles so intense they rivaled Tweek's own. Besides that, oddly not much else had changed. While the color from his complexion had drained, his eyes stayed their rich forest green. The fierce shadows now made them glisten, like wet tree leaves. His ebony locks were the same as well, if not a little longer. Once again, Tweek’s musings were interjected.
“Okay, dude, I know this whole situation is weird, but you seriously need to stop staring.” Craig remarked.
“Ngh, I'm sorry…again. It’s just so weird to see you like this. Everyone is worried about you. You just disappeared.” Tweek fiddled with his hands while he spoke.
“Well, if you couldn’t tell, I've been a little busy.” Craig gestured towards himself sarcastically.
“Yeah, and you still haven’t told me why.”
Craig did not respond. He soon finished wrapping his burn anyway, so Tweek passed him the second towel. They then moved to sit on opposite ends of the couch. Craig wrapped himself in the borrowed towel, tucking it under his legs at the insistence of Tweek, while said boy sheathed himself in his recovered blanket. The two sat in utter quiet. Tweek attempted to break the tension.
“Why won’t you tell me what happened to you?”
“Because I don't want to talk about it.”
“Okay… Well then how did you end up at my window?”
“I told you that already.”
“No, you said you needed somewhere to “lay low for a bit”. You never told me why.”
Tweek's question was left unanswered again. Craig wasn’t even looking at him, instead staring at the living room's decor. His lack of communication made Tweek want to scream until his voice gave out. It was bad enough that the anxious boy wasn’t skilled at keeping a conversation, but Craig's refusal to communicate was making an already awkward evening unbearable. Tweek was at his wit's end, the vein in his forehead swelling up like it was about to burst.
“You’re such an asshole, you know that?!” he squawked.
“I’m the asshole? You’re the one who burnt my fucking hand!” Craig shot a dirty glare in Tweek's direction.
“That wasn’t on purpose! Ngh… this is all your fault! You came knocking outside my home in the middle of a storm and scared me so badly I smashed Jimmy's TV!”
Tweek unclenched the grip he had on his hair at the thought of his roommate. He was so caught up in this whole situation that he completely forgot about Jimmy. What was he supposed to tell him when he saw that his flatscreen was destroyed? Tweek wanted to collapse in on himself and disappear. It felt like he was sitting inside against his bedroom door all over again.
“Jimmy…He’s going to be so mad at me. I’ll get thrown out for sure…” Tweek muttered to himself as he rocked back and forth.
“Wait, Jimmy lives here? You don't live alone?”
“Live alone? Do you seriously think I could live alone? Oh my God I’m going to have to live alone…”
“Snap out of it man. He can’t find out that I'm here.”
Just as Tweek was about to question Craig's statement, he heard a door creek open down the hall. As if on cue, Jimmy must have finally heard them arguing and come to investigate.
“How does he stay asleep during the TV smashing but wake up because of an argument? Can you believe that, Craig…”
Tweek's sentence trailed off when he turned around. The window was agape and the vampire was gone, as mysterious and sudden as when he appeared.
#south park#south park fanfiction#south park au#south park creek#sp creek#craig x tweek#craig tucker#south park vampire au#south park turned au#tweek tweak#sp fanfiction#sp craig#south park craig#south park tweek#sp tweek#creek vampire au#creek turned au#sp vampire craig#my fanfiction
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I so badly need to play this hack rom of pokemon where you play through a pokemon version of the story of the dracula novel and where you kill him with the power of love and violence
Pfft, it would be really fun I admit.
okay now we got to pick the pokemon the other characters would be
Admittedly I'm not the best at this. Also confining it to the first couple generations (mostly 1-3), as that was what my dream was set in and also the ones I know best (though I still heavily consulted Serebii for this). But here's kind of what I'm thinking for the team...
Jonathan (THE): already assigned, with art and everything! Shiny Magikarp, later evolves into a white Gyarados. As a bonus, the Sapphire description reminds me of him in the castle too: "MAGIKARP is virtually useless in battle as it can only splash around. As a result, it is considered to be weak. However, it is actually a very hardy POKéMON that can survive in any body of water no matter how polluted it is."
Mina (POWER): Despite the name suggesting Fighting-type, I really wanted to do Psychic because that's what makes sense for her. I thought about the Gothita line but not only are they not present until Gen 5, but the descriptions don't fit her as well. I also liked the idea of the Ralts line particularly as Gardevoir has text about knowing the future and sacrificing itself for its trainer. But I think overall I prefer Eevee at the start (super adaptable and interested in lots of things)... and then teetering on the edge between Umbreon and Espeon near the later stages before finally evolving into Espeon just in time. We get the affection+daytime evolution which seems fitting for her, and again the description emphasizes Espeon's loyalty which also works well.
Jack (OF): Got so stuck on this one. I was drawn to mostly Electric or Bug types, but nothing stuck out to me as perfect. Venonat line is kind of fun. Nocturnal is a nod to his poor sleeping habits, big eyes because he's always looking and noticing stuff... Still not so sure on for him.
Arthur (LOVE): So I obviously want a dog. And I think Normal-type fits him. But there are no Normal-type dogs until gen 5. I thought about going with either a different type or an earlier dog pokemon, but honestly I think the Lillipup line works for Arthur too well so I'll break pattern and pick that. The whole line is about herding dogs who want to help keep other pokemon safe and I think that really suits him. Plus, moves such as Helping Hand where he boosts another pokemon's abilities, or Odor Sleuth that allow a Ghost-type to be hit with Normal/Fighting moves are perfect for him. That said, my second choice is Growlithe because they're also dogs who can have those moves, and are friendly/loyal with a good sense of smell that can pick up emotions. I just think the Fire-type and the Arcanine are a little less of an overall match.
Quincey (AND): He's generally quick to act and observant, so I was thinking some kind of bird for him, maybe. I like Ground-types for cowboy vibes but I think overall Pidgey line fits best for him. Quick, alert, large territory, beautiful plumage, a classic. I kind of feel like both he and Arthur would already be on their second evolution when you catch them, so he'd be a Pidgeotto already.
Van Helsing (VIOLENCE): The first thing I did was look up who can use Confusion or Supersonic, haha. I did consider Abra line but other than the super high intellect of Alakazam I don't think it fits best. And honestly... I know it's kind of a weird choice but weirdness itself feels fitting for him: I almost picked Lickitung. Abilities being Oblivious or Own Tempo works, the whole 'licking everything new to memorize it' kinda could go along with him having a million degress, and some of the moves work pretty well. Supersonic, Knock Off, Wrap, Disable, Refresh... I think overall I might lean towards Mr. Mime, though. Also an odd one, but the description mentions its ability to convince people of imaginary things which then become real and that seems fitting for him. Also the various Barrier/Light Screen type moves make sense for him always warding away vampires, and he's got Confusion and Double Slap too. Him being personally weak to Dark/Ghost types might make sense in some parts and make others more difficult, admittedly.
That's the best I've got for them all, at least! Feel free to suggest others if you like.
When you get them:
At the end:
#dracula daily#pokemon#dream journal#kitcatia#replies#except jonathan is a white gyarados....#also i dunno why the backgrounds of some of these are white and most black. i decided not to put in the effort to figure it out sorry
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· T H E A R T O F G E T T I N G T O K N O W | S P E N C E R R E I D · PT 3
· Pairing: Spencer Reid/OC · Category: Fluff, Angst · Warning: None · Words: 2767 · Parts: Pt 1 · Pt 2 · Pt 4 · Summary : Eli, a psychology expert and old friend of Luke's, joins the UAC as a consultant and quickly bonds with Spencer Reid. As they delve into a complex case, Eli and Spencer find themselves drawn to each other on a deeper level. · Note about Eli: Her neurodivergence (She is autistic) is implied but it's never really said.
· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn't my first language, be kind!
· Masterlist
· P O V E L I ·
The sun was just beginning to rise when Eli arrived at the office, one of the first to do so. I had been working with the team for weeks, and although I had managed to integrate well, there was something that kept lingering in my mind: Spencer Reid. The connection I felt with him was undeniable, but I couldn't help but wonder if it was all just a product of my imagination. From his small gestures, like bringing me coffee or staying late to help me, to the conversations that were becoming more intimate and frequent, there was a palpable tension between us that I had no idea how to handle.
As I turned on my computer, I tried to push those thoughts aside. I had to focus on the case, be professional, as Luke had recommended; I couldn't let him down. But no matter how hard I tried, Spencer's image kept creeping back into my mind, accompanied by that warm feeling in my chest that, honestly, was a real pain…
—“Damn it, I can’t live with this pressure in my chest… maybe it's just anxiety, that would be great news. You're such an idiot, Eli, trivializing serious problems because you can't face things… Good for you.”
· P O V S P E N C E R ·
From the first day I saw Eli, I knew there was something special about her. It wasn't just her intelligence and her ability to analyze cases, although that already impressed me, there was something deeper, a connection that I hadn't felt with anyone in a long time. I knew I had to maintain professionalism; I had been in complicated situations before and understood perfectly that mixing personal feelings with work was never a good idea. However, I couldn't help it. Every time Eli came near, I felt my pulse quicken slightly, and my mind, always so analytical, filled with questions and doubts that I didn't know how to answer. “Okay, just don't obsess so much… look away, ignore that she's beautiful, her smile, that she's smart… and argh, stop thinking already.”
· P O V E L I ·
That morning, the team gathered in the conference room to discuss the progress of the case. Spencer sat next to me, as we had been doing lately, though neither of us mentioned it, but at least I was glad it happened. While Rossi presented the latest leads, I leaned forward to take notes, and in that movement, my hand brushed against Spencer's.
It was a brief, almost insignificant contact, but the reaction was immediate. I felt a sort of electric shock run down my arm to the base of my neck, making me sit up straight. I glanced at Spencer out of the corner of my eye, finding him looking at me too, but I couldn’t decipher his gaze. I didn’t have time, I quickly looked away, trying to focus on the meeting, but the sensation of the touch lingered on my skin. "I think I'm not breathing... okay, yes, it's been four minutes, I think I would have passed out, four minutes feels like an eternity... maybe I really did pass out and I don't know it... Oh my God, help, what was that? Was I the only one who felt it??"
After the meeting, I tried to focus on work, but my stupid mind kept going back to that moment. I tried to convince myself that I was exaggerating, that it was nothing more than a coincidence, but my heart was telling me otherwise. How was it telling me, you ask? I think it was about to leap out of my mouth, and I’m completely sure that anyone talking to me from a reasonable distance could hear my heartbeat. "Eli, back off, danger zone, we’ve been hurt before, finish the case, leave, and goodbye..."
· P O V S P E N C E R ·
I was looking at some photos in a folder when I suddenly felt a fleeting brush on my hand. I think I sighed; I hadn't felt anything like it before. My mind went blank, as if a sudden rush of dopamine hit my brain, unexpected, pleasant, and as quickly as it came, it was gone. I had touched many people's hands before, but I had never experienced a reaction like that. It was certainly an accident; when our eyes met, she looked away. Not like she’d purposely touch my hand in the middle of a meeting, of course, but it made it clear that there was nothing. "You already know, focus, it was an accident, stop imagining things, she’s not interested in you."
Later that day, while we were reviewing some reports in the common room, I noticed the atmosphere had turned strange, heavy. Eli was next to me, focused on the screen, but everything felt weird; it was obvious.
Suddenly, she broke the silence.
—"Want a coffee?" —her tone was casual enough to sound spontaneous, but it came off as forced.
I looked at her, and for a moment, our eyes met, as if we were both waiting for a sign from the other, something to indicate we weren’t alone in what we were feeling. But, as always, neither of us dared to take the first step.
—"Yeah, sure," —I replied, with a smile that came out weaker than I had hoped. "Very brave of you, Reid..."
Eli nodded, stood up, and walked to the small office kitchen. I stayed there, trying to concentrate on the report, but my mind was still tangled up in what had just happened. Or rather, what hadn’t just happened. It was as if we were both circling something but not daring to look at it directly.
When she came back with the coffee, she extended her hand to give me the cup, and that’s when our fingers brushed lightly, and that simple contact was enough to send a tingling sensation through my skin. Eli smiled, but I’m sure she tensed up. Something had changed between us, though neither seemed willing to face it. I could swear she almost dropped the cup.
—"Thanks," —I murmured, trying to fill the awkward space that had formed.
At that moment, I was so sure that she felt it too… that kind of latent electricity. We remained silent, both too aware of what was lingering in the air. Eli finally decided to say something, her voice a little shaky.
—"Spencer..." —her tone made me set the cup aside —"No, uh… I… hm."
I don’t know why she suddenly went quiet, but I froze because I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me, and it was driving me crazy. I looked at her, trying to figure out if it meant the same thing I was feeling.
We stayed in silence, with words hanging in the air. I could feel the distance between us getting smaller, even though we weren’t moving. The looks we exchanged were different now, more intense, like we were trying to decipher a hidden code in each other’s faces.
Eli didn’t look away, and I couldn’t either. There was something in her gaze, a mix of uncertainty and curiosity that kept me captivated. I felt my breathing change, and for a moment, everything else ceased to exist. It was just her, me, and that electricity that seemed to fill the space between us.
Time seemed to stop. There was no need for words, because what we were feeling went beyond what we could express with simple phrases. The brush of our fingers earlier had left a mark, and now that sensation was growing, enveloping us in a bubble that was about to burst.
I could see Eli swallow, and her breathing had also become heavier, almost imperceptible. It was as if we both knew we were on the edge of something, something neither of us had planned, but that somehow was there, undeniable.
I wondered what would happen if I leaned in a little, if that distance between us disappeared completely. What would she do? What would I do? My mind analyzed all the possibilities, but none had a clear answer. There was only more uncertainty, more tension.
And then, in one movement, Eli took a step back, as if the pressure of the situation became too much to handle. Her eyes shifted away from mine, and the bubble we were in burst, bringing us back to reality.
—"I think… we should get back to the reports," —she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure what had just happened. All I knew was that the tension had broken, leaving us both with an awkward emptiness. Eli turned around, and as she walked back to her desk, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and disappointment. We had brushed against something neither of us was ready to face.
· P O V E L I ·
As the days passed, the tension between us only grew stronger. I think we were trying to keep things professional, but every little gesture, every glance, seemed loaded with a heavy weight. I felt like I couldn’t verbalize what was happening, and I don’t even remember experiencing something like this as a teenager. We kept getting the work done, and I think we were still efficient and collaborative despite everything, but there was a subtle change in the dynamic. It was starting to become noticeable how weird everything was, to the point where our conversations felt forced and awkward.
One day, while we were working on a report, I leaned in to show him something on the screen. Our shoulders brushed, accidentally, I swear it was… And even though it was the smallest contact, I straightened up so quickly that Spencer opted to make a comment that definitely didn’t draw attention to what had just happened. Note the sarcasm.
—"Is it a little warm in here, or is it just me?" —he cleared his throat with an awkward smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere. It was clear he just wanted to fill the uncomfortable silence that was looming.
—"No, yeah, a little…" —My eloquence was increasing by the day.
Over the next few days, these small touches, looks, and gestures became more frequent. Spencer was becoming increasingly clumsy; he didn’t know how to act around me, and in my case… My neurons had progressively decided to abandon ship, leaving me adrift with my stupid and chaotic emotions.
The breaking point came a couple of days later, during a casual conversation. Let’s remember that I had fewer and fewer neurons by the day, and my logic and rationality were starting to shine by their absence. Seriously, I didn’t know what was going on with me. We were in the common room, sharing a coffee after a long day, when Spencer casually mentioned that he had seen an old friend the day before.
—"We ran into each other by chance, it was nice to catch up. I hadn’t seen her in years," —Spencer said, sounding quite cheerful. "Excuse me, what? What’s this about a friend? Calm down, Eli, relax, use the rational part of your brain before you lose it."
I felt like something had pierced my chest when I heard him talk about another woman. I tried to react normally, but the truth is my face tends to easily show how I feel—unless I want to control it, of course, double standards and all that.
—"A friend from college?" —I tried to sound casual, but something happened… my tone completely changed.
—"Yeah," —Spencer replied—. "We were really close back then. It’s funny how time changes things."
My mind started filling with doubts and insecurities. How close had this friend been? Why had Spencer never mentioned her before? I realized I was being irrational, but I couldn’t help it. It’s not like we had known each other for that long… and I had no right to demand anything from him. "Don’t be silly, it’s just a comment, it’s not like you two have anything going on… stop this."
—"It must be nice to reconnect with old friends," —I tried to sound as casual as I could, but it was eating me up inside.
I wasn’t sure if he was ignoring my change in attitude, pretending not to notice, or if he just didn’t realize…
—"Yeah, it was. We talked a bit about what we’ve been up to these past years, and we had a coffee. It was pretty nice."
I forced a smile, but my expression was serious. It was clear that I wasn’t comfortable at all. The worst part was what it implied emotionally. "This has gone too far, damn it, how can you be upset about something like this?! Am I imagining things that don’t exist? My God… I have to stop all of this somehow…"
Spencer noticed that Eli had become a bit more distant, but he didn’t understand why. He wanted to ask but didn’t, as he wasn’t handling things well with her and didn’t want to create an awkward situation by bringing up something she might not want to share. However, the distance that began forming between them at that moment only increased the tension.
The following days were EVEN MORE uncomfortable. Eli tried to stay focused on her work, but every time she thought about Spencer and his friend, she felt a pang of jealousy she couldn’t control. Spencer, on the other hand, noticed the change in Eli and didn’t know how to address it. They had gone from being almost always together to an unbearable silence that neither of them knew how to break.
One night, after everyone else had left, I stayed alone in the office, going over some reports. I was exhausted from all the tension around this situation, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Spencer and what I was feeling. "No matter how much I’ve tried to keep the situation professional, I haven’t been able to, and now I look like a stupid, jealous teenager with butterflies in my stomach… oh no…" — When I realized what was happening, I tried to disappear by covering my head with my arms, a very ineffective method, by the way.
I started to wonder if Spencer was going through the same thing, if he also felt confused and attracted to me. But then I remembered the conversation about his stupid and fcking friend, and doubt hit me again. *"Okay, it’s unfair, that poor girl hasn’t done anything, but I have to blame someone at this moment in my life. It’s 11 p.m., I’m alone in the office, and I haven’t had dinner; it’s going to be her, even if it’s not very feminist of me. What if Spencer only sees me as a colleague? What if I’ve been misinterpreting everything? Ugh…"
· P O V S P E N C E R ·
I went home early today, honestly, the situation with Eli is starting to be too much for me. No matter how hard I've tried to figure out what’s going on, I just can’t see it. We were fine, everything was going well, and suddenly… "Should we talk? I don’t even know how to start something like this… I thought there was something, but it’s obvious I was imagining it."
I was lying on the couch with a book that I wasn’t really paying attention to. Before I knew it, the book was resting on my chest, and I had my phone in my hands, typing out a message. "Hey, how are you?" —I hesitated because the truth is, I had no idea what to write. I wanted to say so many things, but none of them felt right to say over text, though I doubted I could say them in person either. I deleted the message.
—I started typing again —"Hey, how are you? I was thinking about you." —I hit send without thinking. And then, suddenly, I regretted it. What had I done? How did I write that? "I want to die right now, h-how do you delete this?? Can you unsend it?"
Immediately, a notification sounded, and I opened it nervously, nearly dropping the phone. My eyes widened, and the regret vanished.
"I was thinking about you too, what a coincidence."
· Requests via DM ·
#criminal minds#spencer reid#mgg#cm#dr reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#imagine#imagine of the day#spencer reid imagine#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fluff#neurodivergent#neurodiversity#autistic#actually autistic#autism#adhd#autistic oc#neurodivergent oc#Masterlist#Spencer reid masterlist#spencerreidfanfiction
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Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 4: ...or bring me back to life (part 2)
Hey besties! Welcome back, I'll keep it short and sweet. This is part 2 of Chapter 3, with Cash, GLoss, and Enobaria. This is directly influenced by works by @kentwellss and @bodyelectric77 who I think Capture Enobaria and Cashmere so well, and I most certainly consulted them for advice in writing them! I won't drag this out
Title from Electric Touch (t swift)
AO3
Masterpost
Thank you my friends ❤️ Enjoy!
“Where the hell were you?” Clove hisses in the door frame, grabbing Cato firmly by the front of his shirt and fully yanking him forward with a brisk jerk of her arm. It’s now nearing noon, a hard couple of hours later than Glimmer’s initial arrival at ten, and Cato is just finally returning home with not just Cashmere but Enobaria and Gloss also in tow.
Directly behind Cato is Cashmere, perfect blonde curls framing her face, flawless airbrushed makeup covering her already perfect skin, and of course head to toe matching baby pink workout-style clothing.
Clove can’t help but narrow her eyes in a scowl as she looks her over, nevermind the fact that she was just as lethal as she herself is. “Did you think we were having a photoshoot over here, did you really take two hours to get ready to come help your sister-“
It’s Enobaria’s turn to get defensive, wrapping her hand around Clove’s wrist before tugging her out of the way of the doorway and into just into the side of the house. “Do not judge her, Cato just said Glimmer was here and needed her sister, he didn’t specify she was in a crisis until Gloss was already on his way. Do not snap on her.”
Clove watches as the third sibling, also somehow as impeccably dressed as his sister despite the rush to get to Two, follows behind Cashmere, who immediately brushes past Cato to find Glimmer. Though she cannot see her she hears Glimmer promptly start bawling at the sight of her beloved older siblings.
“It’s been two hours, Cato.” Clove reminds him, pulling herself out of Enobaria’s grasp as she also trails behind the twins. “What have you been doing? I had to make THREE grilled cheeses when you were gone–”
Cato gives a half shrug to his wife, hands up in defeat. “You said it wasn’t my job to tell anyone, how was I supposed to get her here faster? I had to make small talk with Blondie Two while we waited for Lipgloss to get here. She was trying to convince me to use purple shit in my hair, Clove. I put up with a lot, for you.”
Clove rolls her eyes, but loops her arm through his anyway. “We are going to be hiding in the kitchen.”
“Why are we hiding? I bet it’s going to get good.” Cato teases with a playful smile and raises of his eyebrows, but allows her to tug him along anyway. “I bet you’ll be able to see the makeup be cried right off Cashmere’s face.”
And though Clove stifles a laugh, as they sneak off to hide from the inevitable fall out, she warns him anyway, “say that too loud and Enobaria might rip your mouth off.”
–
“Glimmy, are you sure? Are you absolutely, entirely, one hundred thousand million percent sure?” Cashmere takes her little sister’s face in her hands, manicured thumbs catching tears as they spill across the crests of her cheek bones. “Are you really really really sure?”
“I’m really sure.” Glimmer admits, with the slightest nod of her head before she wraps both her arms around her sister’s shoulders and pulls in for a tight hug, burying her face in the glossy blonde curls that catch her tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Cash insists, squeezing her eyes to push back her own tears, bringing up her hands to caress her hair, fingers catching in the knotted strands at the very end. “We can take care of this for you, I promise. Don’t worry, I’ll start making calls.”
Cashmere almost doesn’t hear Glimmer’s mumbled response, distracted as their brother sits directly on the other side of their sister from where she is nearly in Cash’s lap.
“What was that, Glim?” Gloss, runs his hand over her back, pausing as he takes in the oversized shirt that is most certainly not hers.
“I said I want it.” Glimmer lifts her head from Cashmere’s shoulder, but rests her cheek there amongst her hair anyway. “I know it’s not okay back home, but it’s mine. And I want it.”
“Oh!” Cashmere feels her voice crack, and wide blue eyes snap open in something like fear to meet Gloss’s who reflect the same uncertainty and concern as her own. “Thats! Um!! Okay! Thats…okay. okay.”
“I’m going to kill him.” Gloss announces in a voice that is a little too steady, a little too full of intention to be joking. “It’s that stupid little twig twink of a man, isn’t it? I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“What? No! I mean…yes, it’s his, but you can’t kill him.” Glimmer grabs at her brother’s upper arm, squeezing with a desperate plea for him to stop.
“What did he say to you, then? If you’re this upset, he must have said something. I swear I’m going to kill him, this is his fault. I will snap him like a fucking twig.” Gloss places his large hand on top of Glimmer’s gently squeezing her little hand in his. “What did he say to you, Glimmer? You wouldn’t be this upset if he didn’t run his stupid little mouth.”
“I didn’t tell him. He didn’t say anything, it’s not his fault.” Glimmer promises yet again, before she hides her face back in her sister's hair. Her thin resolve cracks again, as does her voice, when she finally admits.“I just wish mama were here.”
Cashmere wraps both arms around Gimmer, pulling her once again sobbing little sister closer into her arms. She shoots Gloss a warning look, knowing full well the reality of what their mother would say. Knowing fully well the shame she would say Glimmer brought upon them, the social stigma that Glimmer would be subjected to as a single mother, especially considering the status their family once held.
Gloss gives her a nod, as if he read her thoughts, and knew it was going to be something the two of them address on their own before reminding Glimmer of her precarious social situation and the judgment that would soon be passed over her.
“I’m sorry,” Glimmer murmurs weakly, as if she too can read the silence of her siblings. “I’m sorry, but she’s mine and I really really want her.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault, he clearly took advantage -“ Gloss insists, gently rubbing circles on the back of Glimmer’s shoulders.
“He didn’t, Gloss. I was there. I was involved, I was very much participating, it’s not his fault any more than mine-”
Gloss holds up a hand to stop her from continuing the statement, but he continues to look down at his two sisters with something between distrust and disgust.
Cashmere holds back the urge to question her, in fear it will sound chastising. She wasn’t a stupid girl, she certainly had the knowledge to make sure this didn’t happen. And she wouldn’t have chosen this on purpose, would she? It was a question for another time, when she wasn’t as fragile or shaking with fear in her arms.
“It’ll be okay.” Cash promises, and though she is not sure how much she believes it, she assured glimmer anyway. “You’ll be okay. We’ll help you. We’ll be right here.”
“And I’m serious, I will kill him Glimmer.”
“Gloss…” Cashmere warns, allowing Glimmer to fully collapse in her arms. “He’ll only kill him if you want him to.”
“Please, don’t. He doesn’t know. He won’t know, he didn’t upset me.” Glimmer assures, nearly laying over so that her head rests on her sister’s thigh and her feet rest in the lap of her brother as she tries to catch her breath and cease her own crying, as it continues to make her head and throat ache.
“Oh he will know, he has an obligation to you–” Gloss insists, leaning back on Clove’s soft couch, getting comfortable as Glimmer seems to do the same.
“He has no obligation to me, just like I have none to him.” Glimmer curls on her side, resting her cheek on the soft baby pink of Cashmere’s leggings. “He doesn’t need to know.”
“He most definitely needs to know–” Comes the booming voice of Cato from the kitchen, before it is abruptly shut down by a groan and a “Fuck, Enobaria, that hurt!”
There is a tense silence that falls over the three siblings, as Glimmer continues to cry aimlessly across the laps of her siblings, as if she were just a little girl who had gotten picked on just a moment too long at school and ran to Cashmere and Gloss to fix it. None speak, none continue the string of questions of ‘how long’ or ‘do you know what this is going to do to you?”
Instead they hold her, letting her sobs be the only sound filling Cato and Clove’s living room, until finally, finally she cries herself to sleep in the arms of her sister.
–
“It’s not even the afternoon yet Enobaria, did you spend too much time around Haymitch, give me that.” Clove reaches to swipe the bottle of Vodka out of Enobaria’s fingers, but she quickly holds the bottle above her head and just out of reach of Clove.
“Listen, I’m celebrating, Clove.” Enobaria smirks, hoping up to sit on Clove’s kitchen island, ducking down out of Cato’s grabbing hands, too. “I even invited Brutus but he’s out on a run, or we’d be having a full blown party right now.”
“What are we celebrating?” The voice of Gloss calls out, as he and Cashmere slip into the kitchen sans Glimmer. Cashmere is noticeably wiping tears out of her lash line, no longer holding in her emotions now that Glimmer is comfortably tucked away on the couch, sleeping under a plush blanket at last.
“That it was yours and not mine.” Enobaria gestures to Cato and Clove, before taking approximately a shot worth of vodka straight out of the bottle.
“That’s so mean.” Cashmere remarks, but once she wipes away her tears on the sleeve of her shirt, she holds her hands out to take the bottle from Enobaria. “Give me some of that.”
“I’m married?” Clove scowls, as Cato shoots Enobaria an offended look. “
“Yeah well.. Things were looking scary there when you were seventeen, Clove. I was concerned.” Enobaria hands Cashmere the Vodka, and hops down to wrap her arms around her shoulders from behind. “It’s okay. Seriously. She’s going to be just fine.”
“I have failed her. In every single step of her life. I have failed to protect her again and again and again and again. I have never been able to protect her.” Cashmere admits, taking a long drink from the bottle before handing it directly to her brother who follows suit. She turns to face Enobaria, who wipes away her tears this time.
Cato chuckles to himself, rubbing at the back of his neck with a hand as if he is debating actually letting his joke out. “I think it was someone else who actually failed at protection-”
“Will you shut your stupid stupid mouth for more than forty five seconds, Cato.” Enobaria glares, but Clove does in fact laugh at his stupid joke, which is more than enough validation for him.
“She’s pregnant, not dying.” Clove tries to assuage, and though her tone is reassuring, the anxious way she is scoring some sort of squash betrays she feels otherwise. “I had no dad and I'm just fine.”
“Yeah, Clove, you’re the picture of well adjusted.” Gloss snaps, but reaches over her to grab a handful of the carrots she has already sliced into perfect little match sticks to give her hands something to do.
“To be fair, Clove’s issues are deeper than not having a dad.” Enobaria defends absently, but the majority of her attention is on Cashmere, on trying to get her to breathe through the sobs that flow through her body as if her grief is being pumped by her very heart.
“Wow, thanks.”
Cato interjects, anger rising more and more in his voice, though the fact he has not yet snapped is a testament to how much he has had to grow since his time as a temperamental teenager. “It HAS a dad, who deserves to know about it. He has a right to know it exists!”
“Will you shut up, Cato?” Cashmere whines, running her hands over her face in frustration. “You’re not helping.”
“No, I won’t shut up. And you’re in my house. So I’ll say whatever the fuck I want. And what I want to say is that he has a fucking right to know. And if she does not tell him, I will. I’m not fucking around, I will tell him.” Cato snarls, before stepping around to stand behind Clove, his hands wrapping around her waist before he starts getting a little too aggressive in more than just his voice. “He has a right to know.”
“You can’t tell him, but I do agree with you. He deserves to know. And you all know that, too.” Clove agrees, leaning her head back against his chest, before resting one of her hands on top of both of his.
“You’d tell me, right, Clove?” Cato asks, and though he directs it to Clove, it’s clear that he’s making a point.”
“Before literally anyone else, Cato.” Clove admits, before she goes back to perfectly cubing vegetables into perfect, sharp edged cubes.
“That’s different.” Enobaria points out, “besides, everyone’s been worried about that for like ten years, no one would really be shocked–”
“It’s not different. Because whether or not we had been together, doesn’t matter. I would still tell him.” Clove responds, wiping her starch covered hands on the sides of Cato’s shirt she still wore from bed this morning. “And let's not pretend we don’t all know he’s obsessed with her, it isn’t like he’ll be mad.”
“I, honestly, don’t know if I believe it’s his. I don’t even believe he’s into women-” Gloss admits, before he finishes off the rest of the bottle of vodka the three older victors had been passing around. “He’s a little too twinky, if you know what I mean-”
“I promise it is his. She explicitly blamed us for that part.” Cato points out, before he reaches out and takes the empty bottle before it can end up shattered on the marble floor. “Seriously, though. Clove’s right. She isn’t dying.”
“You don’t understand what she’s going to face back home,” Gloss begins. “There’s very certain standards in District One, especially when you consider the status our family had. There is a big emphasis on the standard family, on marriage, on children, and to stray from that..”
“It’s social suicide.” Cashmere sniffles, but the cold look on her face conveys a rage her snuffling does not. “Not that there’s much left of that level of society but…those that still exist will eat her alive.”
Gloss continues, “she will be ostracized. We weren’t even allowed to play with children who came from families that strayed from that set structure. Glimmer…she’ll be outcast. Her baby will have no friends, and will not be allowed to socialize with the children of her class. She’s going to be very, very isolated, it won’t be good for her.”
“It’s true, even when I go over, we just say we’re very good friends.” Enobaria admits, resting her chin on Cashmere’s shoulder. “There’s different expectations there.”
“Even after all she’s gone through? After she was thrown to the wolves of the Capitol for ten years, people are going to begrudge her this little bit of peace?” Clove raises a dark eyebrow, but leans forward on her hands on the counter top. “Even as a Victor, people would do this to her?
“It doesn’t matter. All that will matter is that she is a mother and she is unmarried and that will be enough.” Gloss grimaces as he sits at the island, bringing his head to rest in his hands. “I don’t even know what our mom would do if she knew.”
“She loved Glimmer, so much. But she also loved her status. Her social circle. I don’t like to think about what she’d say.” Cashmere admits, maneuvering so that she is not broken from Enobaria’s arms but is able to sit beside her brother. “And if she saw her today, even? In that sweater that is way too big, where did she even get that, oh our mother would be so disappointed.”
“It’s his.” Clove confides, before she goes right back to anxiously perfecting sharp edges, creating rectangles of squash, wiping the knife on a kitchen towel before she does so. “It makes her feel warm, and safe, I guess. Something about how she used to wear them in the Capitol, I don’t know. I didn’t press any further. But it’s his shirt.” She pauses, and runs her hand over the sharp edge of the blade. “Maybe she’ll be happy, and that will be enough. Maybe, just maybe, it’s possible for her to be happy despite the things the district will say about her. Cato and I know as well as anyone what it’s like to have half a district turn on you, but we’re happy anyway. Maybe, and you apparently think i’m fucking crazy, but maybe she will be happy.”
There is an awkward, tense pause that comes over all of them at the conflicting viewpoints. If Glimmer would be happy despite the social stigma she was heading into, well that is something only time will tell.
“We could…just kill him?” Enobaria offers as a distraction, a coy smile on her face.
“I was actually about to suggest that. Enobaria could get away with it...” Gloss perks up, lifting his head from his hands to chime in. “He wouldn’t see it coming if Enobaria showed up.”
“Right because if there's a murder who would ever suspect us of being capable of such atrocities.” Clove interjects, not even bothering to honor their ridiculous idea with eye contact.
“Or…she could just tell him!” Cato tries on last time, though at this point, it’s clear none of them are getting anywhere.
“Well…. Since we’re all here, Clove, do you think you could make it like a brunch situation or anything? I bet Brutus is done on his run-” Gloss requests, flashing her a dazzling smile that has Cato glaring in his direction.
“Sorry, my charity meals are complete for the week, try again next time.”
“...Clove, do you have knives or something, I need to go throw at something.” Cashmere decides, hopping off the island chair and out of Enobaria’s comforting embrace. She could at the very least blow off some much needed steam.
“Second drawer on your left.”
“No, not kitchen knives, I mean-’
“I know. Second drawer on your left.”
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'SOULSTAR' BOOK REVIEW...
I haven’t done a review for a while, but I felt I should for this book, as I didn't like it and wanted to explore why. The book’s about a necromantic witch called Robin, who is fighting to make the country of Aeland a better place. At first she tries to do this by working with the new king, who appears to be quite progressive, but as time goes on, it becomes clear he’s not the person she thought he was and she needs to take a different route. She takes over as the head of the Free Democracy party when the previous leader Jacob is assassinated and ends up bringing about a revolution. The blurb for the book describes it as A WHIRLWIND OF MAGIC, POLITICS, ROMANCE, AND INTRIGUE, which sounded right up my street, but it totally didn't live up to my expectations and here are some of the reasons…
One of the villains (a terminally ill old man) is tried near the end and sentenced to hang. I find the idea of capital punishment deeply troubling, so this was never going to sit well with me. I think it’s inhumane, and when mistakes happen (which they totally do), there’s nothing you can do about it. The trial also left a bad taste in my mouth. It’s what I believe is commonly referred to as a kangaroo court, when the accused isn’t given a chance to defend himself and the verdict’s pretty much decided before anyone says a word. To make matters worse, Robin traps the man’s soul in a tree for a thousand years after he’s been hanged. This isn’t part of the court’s decision and there’s no consultation. She just does it. For me this little display suggests that power has totally gone to her head and Aeland has simply traded one arrogant despot for another, which I’m sure wasn’t what the author had in mind.
The pacing feels off. Parts of the book seemed rushed (e.g. the revolution and a lot of the magic stuff), while other parts felt bloated and unnecessarily drawn out. The author seemed unable to tell what to focus on to best serve the story, and if there was any editorial guidance, it must have been pretty poor judging by how it turned out.
Complex issues are dealt with in what for me seems like a totally simplistic way. The revolutionaries are holier than thou and the people they’re fighting against are like pantomime villains, when in the real world, almost everyone is somewhere in the middle. You only really hear one viewpoint about stuff and the whole mess gets cleared up in a ridiculously short amount of time.
The character of Zelind. Zelind is non-binary, which on the face of it sounds great, but the sense I got was that khe was a token character. I had no clue about kher appearance or what kher life as non-binary was like (e.g. the specific challenges khe faced). I noticed that the author used the wrong pronouns for kher a few times (usually SHE/HER, but also at least one THEY), which made me wonder if KHE was once a SHE and the non-binary element was added quite late in the writing process to be on trend or something. It certainly doesn’t add to the plot in any way. If it wasn't a late change, then it's another example of sloppy editing. You expect that kind of slip in self-published books, but not when they're from a big company like Tor and not when its something people might be sensitive about. I also wondered how everyone the character meets seems to immediately know which pronouns to use for kher. I don’t have any direct experience of this myself, but I’m guessing it doesn’t always work that way for real non-binary people, so it doesn’t ring true. Another thing that didn’t seem realistic was the way the character rustled up a machine to generate electricity at the drop of a hat, when others have been trying for years and utterly failing. It’s not properly explained how khe is able to do it and it all happens off camera so to speak, so you don’t get to see what it actually involves. This character could have been so much more and for me was a big disappointment.
The plot feels contrived. I knew all along where the book was headed, so getting through it felt like a chore. There were also quite a few times when seemingly hopeless situations were quickly resolved by unlikely events, e.g. Robin happening to know there would be a hidden door which would allow her and Grace to escape from a burning room, or footsteps lying undisturbed on a snowy rooftop for days, so Robin can solve the mystery of Jacob’s assassination (luckily there hasn’t been any snow in the meantime and it hasn't melted either). Magic also felt a bit convenient at times and the rules around it seemed to shift to fit the plot.
So those are my biggest gripes. I won’t tell anyone they shouldn’t read the book, because I’ve seen a lot of glowing reviews and I’m sure a lot of people will 💜 it, but for me it just didn’t work. I haven’t read the other books in the Kingston cycle and I won’t be doing now. This one was more than enough. 2/5
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Catatan Koasisten: Return of Spontaneous Circulation
October 20th 2022, and my life has led me into the ICU with a pulseless patient in front of me.
I had been here many times before.
I had gotten used to the beeping of machines, the delirious patients drifting in and out of consciousness. I had gotten used to the scent of alcohol, the sounds of nurses pacing back and forth as they rush to empty urine bags and change bandages. I hated to admit the fact that long before today, I had already gotten used to death.
I now know of the signs: Empty-looking eyes staring at ceilings, an occasional tear making its way from the corner of the eye into the mouths that hang slightly open, the way heat leaves the body from its ends, making its way to the middle, the way consciousness comes back like a lightbulb right before it goes out completely. Then the drop of heat in the core, the vital signs plummeting, and then the beeping of machines and then the silence.
Very rarely do people come back after an arrest, at least in my experience. This is because after the heart stops and oxygen in blood fails to perfuse organs throughout the body, it will undergo irreversible damage. Organs like the heart, the brain, ones that do the most important work rarely regenerate.
I looked at my watch and subconsciously started counting, recalling something one of my senior consultants once told me: For every minute a patient is in cardiac arrest, 10% of life is lost. It had nearly been five, therefore somewhere near a fifty-fifty percent chance of life.
I stood by her bed, hands interlocked on top of one another, pressing into her sternum and then recoiling. Counting one to thirty compressions then followed by 2 breaths, then onto the next cycle of 30 compressions to two breaths. A fifty to fifty chance; a tug of war with death. The senior doctor had placed monitors on her chest, monitoring for rhythm.
There. The fibrillation of ventricle. One of two shockable rhythms we have come to know in medical school. This would mean that the senior doctor would then grab a defibrillator to deliver electrical shock, then wait for the heart to restart itself, but at the time, I had never seen it before.
As he placed the pads onto her chest I knew now it was time for me to let go, as it was soon time to deliver the shock. The senior doctor charged the pads and the machine made a buzzing sound.
"I'm Clear, You're Clear, Everybody's Clear!" He said as a machine delivered one single surge of electrical current. 360 joules aimed at restarting the heart rhythm. For a second, her body tensed under the pads the way I had seen in movies before.
We looked at the ECG machine. A steady rhythm.
I immediately placed three fingers on her neck right on her carotid artery, and I’ll to my surprise-- a beating. It was weak, but it was there. Beating slowly and steadily, as if saying "here I am". As the heart picked up its rate I felt it beating harder against my fingers. I let out a breath of relief.
It seems that nothing is as tenacious as life. It clings to organs with sizes blown out of proportion, to hearts and lungs no longer able to compensate for their own failure. Life persists despite terrible fates, and strange hematology results. Insistent it is, stubborn almost.
There I was, a medical student all of twenty three years of age, playing tug of war with the angel of death.
That day, I witnessed something truly important.
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