#image to notepad plus conversion | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pearlywritings · 11 months ago

Text

Surprisingly

synopsis: for the public eye, the head of the Oak Family and his wife are a loving couple. In private they are astonishingly content with each other too.

pairing: Sunday x fem!reader

tw: fluff, arranged marriage, reader is halovian, established some time before the game quest on Penacony.

word count: 2.8k+ words

Nothing supports the man’s prestige and public image more than a proper marriage with a proper woman. So, I want you to meet this very woman, my child…

Two months, fifteen days and one hour. That’s exactly how long ago Sunday became a husband. A role he didn’t imagine himself playing, not with the role assigned to him from above. But, it was Gopher Wood - his adoptive parent basically, who brought you to him and announced his grand plan. And even if the head of the Oak Family had his doubts initially, a thorough conversation held with and without the Dreammaster, plus your immaculate background and some more specific matters proved to him that you were indeed chosen rightfully. He wasn’t sure if it was Mr Wood’s way of helping him, offering you as an aid at handling some of the work-related matters but with the seemingly perfect image of being wed - the elder gave no answers, however Sunday knew better than to question some of his schemes.

And so, your union was sealed. The ceremony wasn’t something exceptionally huge, none of you wanted that, but it was public enough for everyone and their mother to be talking about it. A couple of perfectly sterile interviews, some joint photos and three or four public appearances together, and people have been fooled enough to believe that.

That was enough.

Something as shocking as a wedding would avert the public eye and serve a great purpose in deceiving the people. After all, newlyweds are far too busy for one of them to be plotting something, right?

Right. So right, that Sunday himself was in a somewhat daze for the first week. But it’s understandable - on top of his regular responsibilities he had to prepare for the wedding and get to know the person he was about to spend life with better. Surprisingly, you turned out to be very understanding and supporting from day one, actively participating in whatever additional activity served on the man’s plate. It was weird, new and confusing, but above all he caught himself considering it not unwelcome.

You are astonishingly easy to work with. Well-versed in the matters of Family (but he shouldn't be all too surprised, given who brought you to him), soft, yet - when needed - firm spoken, not afraid to face the crowd in your husband's place for a public announcement and taking a portion of his responsibilities without any questions asked. If not for your interactions outside of all of that, Sunday would've thought you were his secretary and not a wife (but even a secretary wouldn't have known as much as you are aware of).

You are…comfortable. Sunday should really reproach himself for giving in so quickly, but it’s so hard not to. Maybe his vigilance is lulled with security of his patron’s choice or maybe it’s his own longing for normal civil interaction with someone close, but it didn’t take much time to start entertaining your sparks of curiosity.

Oh, how curious you are. Despite being trapped in a loveless marriage, you’ve been willing to learn about him from day one, trying to unfurl at least one tiny secret of his every day. He knows that because you are methodical, because you write it down (and you don’t hide the fact - when he, alarmed, asked or rather demanded you to show him that little notepad of yours, you just did so, with an explanation of your reasoning.)

Speaking of getting to know each other better… It’s still half an hour before your recently established tea time, but… But maybe he could summon you earlier?

I hope, my child, this woman will become your reprieve. You are not obligated to love her, see her as just a companion, but feel free to treat her as a continuation of yourself. I educated her to match you specifically, after all.

As a continuation of himself… Isn’t it cruel to speak such things of a sentient being? Isn’t it putting one into the position of submission?

Somehow it feels bitter on the tongue when he thinks of you.

His hand reaches for the bell, but promptly stops before the fingertips can touch the polished metal. Ah, of course, he asked to not be disturbed today. So, let him not violate his own order. He can find you on his own, not to mention, a small walk around the building might help clearing up his mind. Lately, he’s been thinking too much.

Spacious halls of the Dewlight Pavilion are empty, he knows as much, yet he hopes he won’t have to roam for too long, as the gloved hands push the doors of the meeting room. Today you two decided to work from the main Family residence in need of some materials here, and since no congregations were scheduled for the day, the building was all yours.

Each step of his is muffled by the carpet, lining the exactly 39 stairs, every next one lifting some of the weight from his shoulders and smoothing the deep frown of light gray brows. When his heels click on the small podium with the additional three steps, Sunday feels like his head is cleared.

Stepping on the carpet again, he finally ends up in the big hall with the 5 Lineages symbols and a big City Sandpit in the middle. Quickly fishing his phone out of the pocket, he swiftly unlocks the screen and finds your name in the recent calls, dialing it.

When did it happen that conversations with you outnumbered ones with his sister?

You pick up the phone after just two seconds.

“Hello? What is it, Sunday?”

Ah, straight to the point, he admires that. And the calmness of your tone is surprisingly grounding.

“I was wondering if you’d join me earlier,” he speaks softly, barely holding off from calling you ‘dear’. It’s not wrong for the spouses, but how would you react? He asks strange questions lately. “Tell me where you are, I’ll come fetch you.”

“To answer your first question, I’d love to,” the young man might lie to himself, but he swears he heard your voice sweeten just a little. It makes the little wings behind his ears flutter, which he is quick to still. “As for your second one, however, you might want to look down.”

Sunday follows your instruction without much thought, looking right at the red carpet covering the marble floor.

“...I don’t believe I understand.”

He hears you chuckle, a tinkling sound, lacking any malice. His left wing slightly jerks as the favorable noise fills his left ear through the phone.

“The City Sandpit, beautiful. I am not far from the origami birds’ nest.”

As he moves to round the table, your husband’s heart skips a beat. You called him beautiful, you have done so on multiple occasions already. You praised his intellect, you gently clapped for the perfect choice of the clothes for the day he made, you agreed with him on the most mundane things incorporated into your daily lives. And not once it felt forced or fake. You were surprisingly sincere with him - he would’ve thought that with the Dreammaster’s upbringing you’d have been all mastered flashy smiles and sickly sweet polished words.

But here you’ve been, admiring him in your own quite blunt kind of way.

He immediately spots your tiny figure among the fake buildings on the city’s layout. You are waving at him with a smile.

“Found me,” he hears again in the speaker, but now also from you as well.

“Found you,” Sunday echoes, reaching his free hand to you. When he curls his fingers, you understand and, clutching the strap of the bag hanging from your shoulder, carefully climb onto his open palm.

Your husband is careful, finishing the call and putting the phone aside, before cupping the other hand under the one holding your sitting figure. Bringing you closer to his eyes he can see all the little details on the pretty pale blue dress you left home in this morning, with your second pair of clipped wings wrapped around the waist like another skirt. Then his gaze skims along your neck, adorned in one of the pendants he gifted you and then up to the first pair of wings, bigger than his when you are your normal size.

He doesn’t have an opportunity to marvel over your intricate halo, because your eyes capture his in a vice, looking at him inquiringly.

“Didn’t expect you to take a break earlier. I thought you liked to stick to your routine.”

This was probably the first thing you learned about your back then betrothed.

“I do,” a tiny smile adorns his pale lips, “however, today I managed to wrap the most attention-requiring matters up earlier. Now only the mundane cases are left.”

“Good to hear that,” you hum, swinging your stocking-clad legs a little. His golden eyes look over your form once more, capturing the image of surprising comfortability in the hands of a bigger being, one that could crash your body so easily at the moment.

“I do wonder however about the reason behind your current predicament,” the male tilts his head in an inquiring way. “I believe I’ve never seen you enter the City Sandpit.”

Well, not to count the very first time he was giving you a tour.

“Oh, as I said, I know your routine, so I usually leave it before our meetings. I actually enter it quite often when we stay here,” is your answer that makes Sunday’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Pardon?”

“It’s easier to do paperwork this way,” motioning to the bag still on your shoulder, you then huff in annoyance. “If only you knew how eager your subordinates to bother me whenever you are unavailable. I am well-informed of my seeming position as the “lady-of-the-house”, but I’ve never signed up to be a link element between you and them, let alone a pawn in someone’s game of becoming first to seek your favor. Pardon me for my straightforwardness, but I much prefer interactions without actual feedback from the interlocutor if the situation doesn’t require otherwise. Except for you, of course.”

Except for him.

“You are my equal. You can always order them not to bother you,” drawing his hands closer to the chest, Sunday turns and starts walking closer to the table’s side where the gates are located.

“As if,” he glances down and catches just the end of your eye roll. “Mister Wood would have had my head if I ruined your picture as little as being distant from your inner circle. I’d much rather prefer just to hide away when needed and return to my secondary duties once I’m done with the primary.”

With the Dreammaker’s upbringing you would think a person can’t be as open-minded. Sunday is sure that it was no different from his - after all you have the clipped wings to match his. But, it seems, you found a way to temporarily escape from the suffocating clutches. Today he learnt a new thing about you, and, surprisingly it warms his soul instead of feeling repulsed.

He carefully puts you down just in front of the gates from the city’s side. Almost knocking off a little ”DO NOT TOUCH” card near it, your husband moves to the right to let you step out. And in a couple of seconds of blinding light you stand before him in all your tall glory.

“Thank you for making the trip across the city so much shorter,” you grin, shaking the bag’s strap down your shoulder and rolling it, before unwrapping the wings from around your waist and spreading them in a stretch.

“It was my pleasure,” his tone is even, yet the gaze with which he watches you move gives him out. To this day and probably for a long while the levels of intimacy that used to be unknown to him yet which you display are going to surprise him. Sunday almost feels an annoying twinge of upsetness when you rewrap your wings around the dress’s skirt. Though it lets him see a couple of ruffled feathers and he has to suppress the urge of his hand to reach and fix them for you.

Yes, there is some intimacy between you lately, but not close enough.

“If you give me a moment to drop off my papers, I’ll be swift in joining you,” your voice breaks the man out of his self-restraining thoughts, and he lifts his eyes from your waist back to your face.

“Ah, it won’t be necessary. I’d like to have our tea time back at the meeting room, I have some things to discuss with you.”

“So official,” you smile, taking a step to join his side. “Alright then, let us be on our way up. Would you like to fill me in on the agenda of our ‘meeting’?”

“Sure,” Sunday chooses to ignore your teasing, but habitually offers you his elbow to hook your arm in it. “My sister is going to visit soon and she seems to be quite pissed at me.”

“Miss Robin?” Your question is laced with puzzlement. “I assumed from your stories of her that she is hardly in a sour mood.”

“It is true, yes,” your husband sighs, leading you up the first set of stairs. “But I would’ve been mad too if my sibling had gotten married and I did not know a thing.”

“She does not know about us?”

The man nearly halts in his ascending. If he didn’t know better and where your thoughts and loyalties stood in this marriage, he would’ve believed you are offended that he kept such an important fact a secret from his only family member. Nevertheless, he continues his walking.

“I sent her an invitation, you know that. But it seems the planet she’s been on is pretty far away and she’s gotten my message only recently, on her way back. I loathe to admit it, but now I feel very bad and the situation itself is iunjust. I am aware we were in a rush, all because of the- you know why,” he sees you nod from the corner of his eye and feels your fingers carefully dig into his arm, “but Robin has always wanted to be a maid of honor at my wedding. And I ripped this opportunity from her.”

And I am not going to get married the second time. This he did not voice out loud.

For a moment you both fall silent. You get lost in thought, Sunday does so too, analyzing his own words, wondering if this speech of his was too personal, if it was painting him as weak in your eyes.

And his own.

You speak only when he reaches for the knob and twists in to swing the door open and lead you two inside.

“So, how much time do we have before she gets here?”

“Maybe a couple of days,” he breaks the lock of your arms and gets a hold on the strap, sliding the bag down your shoulder and turning to put it aside for the time being. “Why asking?”

“You are a good brother, I can see that, “ ah, here you are, praising him again. “And it’s obvious you care for your sister and wish to give her the world. I suggest organizing a small party for her. This way she could experience what she missed and get familiar enough with me. I can negotiate with Mister Wood, I am sure I can convince him - he has some sort of a soft spot for you, Sunday.”

Surprisingly, it twists something uncomfortable in the halovian’s stomach.

“It sounds… delightful. However, are you certain you’d like to go to such lengths for Robin?”

“Well, she is your sister,” you chose the table farthest from the one your husband has been working at and grab the back of the chair to move it so you could sit, “and I am your wife. I’d love her to believe in us too. If I am not overstepping, of course.”

That’s actually not a bad idea. If almost four months ago someone - even you - suggested he let his sister and future wife meet, he’d be hesitant. He knows his little sister, he knows how perceptive she is - he is not so sure he wouldn’t have cracked under her inquisitive questions about whether he was happy with the arrangement or not. Plus leaving her sad and aching for brother if he let her know of the unjustness of the situation and still chose to proceed with the wedding is just too much for him.

Now he, at least, will not be lying that he is content if being asked.

“I accept your offer and thank you profusely for it,” Sunday slightly bows his head, to which you shake yours, reaching your hand out to beckon him to join you.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’ll have time to thank me later, once we’ve already done something, alright?”

Surprisingly… It is indeed alright.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #sunday x fem!reader #hsr sunday #hsr fluff

1K notes · View notes

matrimonialautotypesoftware · 3 days ago

Text

Data Entry Notepad Plus Auto Typing Software Download| Jpeg Image to Notepad Conversion

Hey Everyone! Welcome back to our channel guys So guys in this video I will explain you about Data Entry Notepad plus Auto Typer Software Guys we know that data entry company will provide you some jpg images , so these jpg images contains cursive font its very difficult to type in the notepad plus software, that's why our instant data services team had developed a great automation tool called Auto typer Software especially for Notepad plus data entry works. So by using our data entry Auto typing Software for Notepad plus You can achieve 100% accuracy, and get the 100% GENUINE PAYOUTS on time Our Notepad Plus Auto Typer Software Contains 100% accuracy. Its a 100% Nondetectable Auto Typer Software. Reduce Errors and its reducing the need to manually type out long lines data. Multitasking: While the Data Entry Auto typer software runs, you can be working on other projects, allowing you to maximize your productivity. Prevent Mistakes: For large datasets, you can eliminate errors that might arise from human fatigue or lack of focus, which is particularly beneficial for coding, logging, or compiling data. In short, using an auto-typer for Notepad++ can significantly boost your efficiency and accuracy, making repetitive data entry tasks much quicker and error-free.

youtube

Instant Data Service Email us : [email protected] Contact Us :+91 891 950 8962 Website:- http://formfillingautotyper.com/ http://instantdataservices.com/ https://autoformfillingsoftware.com/ https://medicalformfillingautotyper.com/ https://autoformfillingsoftware.com/mi-demography-form-filling-automatic-software https://medicalformfillingautotyper.com/medical-form-filling-auto-typer-software

#Youtube

0 notes

bpoconversions · 1 year ago

Text

Data Entry Auto Typing Software Free Download | Image to Notepad Conversion Software

Good Day Everyone! Welcome back to our channel. Today we are explaining about Image to Notepad .wrt Auto Typer Software. Converting an image to text and saving it in Notepad using an Auto Typer software typically involves a few steps. You'll need an Optical Character Recognition (OCR) tool i.e. BPO Image to Text Converter Software to extract text from the image and an Auto Typer software to type it into Notepad automatically.

Don't hesitate to download our Auto Typing Software as it simplifies your work and reduces work pressure. This is a user-friendly application. It automates Notepad Plus Data Entry work with good accuracy. Generally by manual typing one page takes 1 hour approximately, but by using our Data Entry Auto Typing Software you can complete the same page in just 5-7 minutes only with good accuracy. The best thing about our Data Entry Auto Typing Software is that it is an offline software. It doesn't require internet connection. Anyone can use our Data Entry Auto Typing Software for Free anywhere and at anytime.

youtube

BPO Conversions: CONTACT :- 9618721254 EMAIL :- [email protected]

#Youtube

0 notes

notepadpluswrtconversion · 2 years ago

Text

Convert Jpg To WRT (Notepad Plus) Today

Convert Jpg To NTS (Pixcel Notepad) Today

Convert Jpg To RTX (RTX Notepad) Today

Are you a professional in the Data Entry Typing industry looking for a safe and efficient way to convert your JPG images to WRT, NTS, RTX formats?

Our software allows for bulk and batch conversion operations, saving you valuable time and effort.

With Bulk Text Encryptor, you can easily convert your JPG images to WRT, NTS, RTX files with just a few clicks.

Bulk Text Encryptor runs locally on your computer, ensuring that your files are processed safely and securely

Batch convert Jpeg to WRT

Batch convert Jpeg to NTS

Batch convert Jpeg to RTX

[Free Download] JPG (JPEG) to WRT Converter for Windows 11/10/8/7

[Free Download] JPG (JPEG) to NTS Converter for Windows 11/10/8/7

[Free Download] JPG (JPEG) to RTX Converter for Windows 11/10/8/7

Convert images, documents and pictures to WRT

Convert images, documents and pictures to NTS

Convert images, documents and pictures to RTX

How do I convert a picture to WRT for free?

How do I convert a picture to NTS for free?

How do I convert a picture to RTX for free?

How do I convert an Image to WRT for free?

How do I convert an Image to NTS for free?

How do I convert an Image to RTX for free?

Convert images in multiple formats to WRT in seconds.

Convert images in multiple formats to NTS in seconds.

Convert images in multiple formats to RTX in seconds.

Easily convert JPG, PNG, GIF, BMP and TIFF images to WRT using Bulk Text Encryptor tool.

Easily convert JPG, PNG, GIF, BMP and TIFF images to NTS using Bulk Text Encryptor tool.

Easily convert JPG, PNG, GIF, BMP and TIFF images to RTX using Bulk Text Encryptor tool.

Easily convert JPG, PNG, GIF, BMP and TIFF images to Notepad Plus using Bulk Text Encryptor tool.

Easily convert JPG, PNG, GIF, BMP and TIFF images to Pixcel Notepad using Bulk Text Encryptor tool.

Easily convert JPG, PNG, GIF, BMP and TIFF images to RTX Notepad using Bulk Text Encryptor tool.

Convert PDF, JPG, PNG, GIF or TIFF into WRT

Convert PDF, JPG, PNG, GIF or TIFF into NTS

Convert PDF, JPG, PNG, GIF or TIFF into RTX/RTX++

How to Bulk Convert images to WRT on Windows 11?

How to Bulk Convert images to NTS on Windows 11?

How to Bulk Convert images to RTX on Windows 11?

Our Contact Number:- 7428811442

Our WhatsApp Number:- 7428811442

Our Email id:- [email protected]

Live Customer Support:- https://intellitechdataser.wixsite.com/image-to-text

0 notes

atozconversions · 2 years ago

Video

youtube

Image to Notepad Plus .WRT direct auto typer conversion software

#youtube

1 note · View note

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years ago

Text

Extreme Aggressor: Part Two

Pairing: Eventual Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, and angst

Summary: Jason Gideon is called back from a six-month leave from the Behavioral Analysis Unit to profile a killer. Meanwhile, the team flies across the country to Seattle when another young woman goes missing at the hands of "The Seattle Strangler," another serial killer.

Author’s Note: Here is it finally! After hard work, it is finally ready for your viewing pleasure! Please, feedback is always appreciated so let me know what you like about it and what you didn’t!

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

So without further ado, please enjoy!

After arriving at the police headquarters, you followed Gideon and the rest of the team inside the building. It still felt awkward between you and the rest of the team which is why you stuck to Gideon’s side the whole time. He walked fast throughout the building, and you did your best to keep up.

“He never stands with his back to a window. When I was between him and a doorway, he asked me to move,” Derek gossiped about your friend.

“That's hypervigilance. It's not uncommon in post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Just how much disorder are we talking about?”

“Morgan, it's been six months. Everything's okay,” Hotchner calmed him down.

“And he brings along a woman we don’t even know? How do we know we can trust her? I’m sorry, but she doesn’t mean anything to me yet,” Derek asked just as you passed them.

Looking at them over your shoulder, you caught Spencer’s eyes before moving on.

“Give her time. You gave me time,” he said, catching up to you. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. He’s right. I’m a stranger to you guys.”

“Hopefully by the end of this, you won’t be,” he smiled, walking into the main room with you that was crowded with uniforms.

“This is special agent Gideon, special agent Morgan, our expert on obsessional crimes, special agent Reid—”

“Dr. Reid,” Gideon interrupted.

“Dr. Reid, our expert on well, everything, and the newest member of our team, Y/N Y/L/N. And after two years busting my ass in this office, I hope you all remember me,” Hotchner smiled with the laughter that ensured throughout the room.

“He's willing to travel with the body,” Gideon speaks, looking at the map.

“Then he drives a vehicle capable of concealing one,” Hotchner added.

“1 in 7.4 drivers in Seattle owns an SUV,” Spencer spat out.

“But how do we know it's his car? Ted Bundy drove a VW Bug. What about a Jeep Cherokee? Jeeps are more masculine,” Derek voiced his thoughts.

“We all know how an unsub feels about asserting his masculinity,” Gideon chuckled.

“When did the bureau become involved in the case?” Hotchner asked the lead police officer.

“After the fourth body. He dumped that one out of state.”

While everyone was conversing and talking, you walked up the board with the recent pictures of the latest kidnapped victim, Heather. She went missing about a day ago which means she has about 24 hours left until she is dead—and the clock is ticking. Her image and the photos of the abduction site certainly does something for you, but it’s not enough. Reaching up to touch the image of her, you closed your eyes to see if you can get anything from a picture.

A flash of an orange car here, her heart rate increasing while inside the car, but other than that, you got nothing. It would be better if you were touching some of her things since the human body leaves traces wherever they go, whatever they touch. Since she wasn’t murdered, there isn’t a dump site that would give you even more clues and answers.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked when he saw you.

Opening your eyes, you lowered your hand before looking at him.

“I am trying to connect myself with her through a photograph. It’s not that common to get anything, but it does happen. I see an orange car and her fearful expressions, but that’s about it.”

“What do you need in order to get a clearer picture?”

“Her belongings. Every human leaves a spiritual trace wherever they go. It’s stronger with personal items.”

“Agent Gideon, where would you like to start?” one of the policemen asked.

“Let's start at the site of the last murder. Y/N, you coming?”

“I think I’ll get a better read on Heather and whether she’s alive or not if I’m with her things. I’ll go to her house.”

“Reid and I will go with you,” Hotchner announced.

Knowing you wouldn’t go alone, you bit your own tongue and followed the two men out the door. The fact that the Bureau provided government standard SUVs were pretty cool. It didn’t take long to go to Heather’s house, and when you arrived, you met her brother and the dog she owned.

“Sandy, no, no, no. I'm so sorry,” Heather’s brother, David, apologized when the big dog started barking and trying to playfully attack you three. However, when it came to you, the dog just stared at you silently.

“No, it's okay. It's what we call the Reid effect,” Hotchner stated, causing the young doctor to be confused. “I'm agent Hotchner. This is special agent Dr. Reid and Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N is fine,” you quickly added.

“You two look too young to have gone to medical school,” the man observed.

“They're PhD's. 3 of them. She has two.”

“Spencer,” you whispered softly to get him to shut up about it.

It’s not like you don’t want people to know you have 2 PhDs, but you just didn’t want the attention. Plus, if your dad knew you went to school to be a profiler in the FBI, he’d have your head.

“Are you a genius or something?”

“I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute,” he gushed. The man stared at him like he was crazy, so the young doctor just agreed. “Yes, I'm a genius.”

“Sandy, you get a lot of attention, don't you?” Hotchner asked the dog who just panted.

Instead of being with them, you took a look around the room to see if you can get a feel to the place. Heather’s spirit was here through certain items, but because there are more than one, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly where it’s coming from. The conversation went on about her dog until it got back on track.

“David, does your sister drive a Datsun Z?” Spencer asked when he picked up a magazine.

“No, but she's in the market for one. How'd you know?” he asked, and Spencer held it up. David just shook his head and took his dog outside since she was getting antsy.

“There's an immediate relationship established between a buyer and a seller, a certain level of trust. If I want to coax a young woman into my car, I’d offer her a test drive,” you said, causing the two men to stare at you.

Their bodies were emitting tension, and you knew they didn’t trust you at all. You needed to do something to prove to them that you were worthy enough to be on this team.

“Let me show you what I can do, okay?”

“Alright,” Hotch said.

Taking the magazine from Spencer’s hands, you closed your eyes in concentration. A multitude of pictures flashed through your mind due to the residue that Heather left behind, until those pictures turned into film. Heather was seated on the couch right behind Hotch and Spencer, flipping through the magazine happily. When she got to the page she wanted, she grabbed the red marker on the table next to her and circled the orange car a bunch of times. She then grabbed her money and began counting it to see if she had enough money to buy it.

“Heather is sitting on that couch, super excited to buy the orange car I keep seeing. She circles the one she wants with a red marker, and she starts to count her money,” you open your eyes, and began to flip through the magazine until you found the page you were looking for. “If I’m right, it’s this page she was on. She found someone with this exact car, and whoever took her did it because they got her to test drive it.”

The page you landed on was the same exact page with the red marker.

“Nice job,” Hotch complimented.

“That’s amazing,” Spencer muttered.

“Thank you. I just want to help, Agent Hotchner.”

“Please, call me Hotch.”

“Okay, then how about the fact that on one hand, we have paranoid psychosis, but the autopsy protocol says what?” Derek asked.

Back at the office, everyone was talking about the case and how the MO of this unsub didn’t make any sense. Derek was the one who was freaking out about everything since apparently not having a profile ready didn't bode well for him.

“Adhesive residue shows he put layer after layer of duct tape over his victims' eyes,” Spencer answered.

“He knows he wants to kill them, but he still covers their eyes. He doesn't want 'em looking at him, apparently. Okay, but then he takes the body and dumps it right out in the open, murder weapon nearby.”

“Not the MO of a paranoid convinced he's being watched or surveilled,” Spencer added.

Gideon stares at the drawing board while the rest talked about the case. Just by the look of his face, he was drowning out whatever they were saying. Even though you can get a read on his spiritual energy, that didn’t mean you could understand what he is thinking.

“Jason? What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, making sure only he could hear you.

However, he didn’t answer you directly.

“Alright, enough,” he interrupted the chatter in the room. “Let's tell them we're ready.”

“We're ready?” Derek gasped as Gideon left the room. The young genius started to write something down on his notepad, but the older agent wasn’t finished. “Reid, you're good with this? We've got a woman who's only got a few hours left to live, an incomplete profile, and a unit chief on the verge of a nervous breakdown.”

“They don't call them nervous breakdowns anymore,” you noted.

“It's called a major depressive episode.”

“I know, Reid,” Derek sighed.

Walking away from the board, you looked at Spencer quickly right before you left the room. Gideon gathered everyone in a conference room to deliver the profile and stood in the middle of the room with the tables blocking him in on three sides like a square. The rest of his team stood off to the side, and while Hotch, Spencer, and Derek were listening, you were watching the reactions of everyone in this room. If your abilities told you anything, it’s how untrustworthy even the most highly respected person could be.

“The unidentified subject is white and in his late 20's. He's someone you wouldn't notice at first. He's someone who'd blend into any crowd. The violent nature of the crime suggests a previous criminal record--petty crimes, maybe auto theft,” Gideon began. Running your eyes over every person in this room, you tapped into their energies to see what the normal eye couldn’t.

“We've classified him as an organized killer—psychopathic as opposed to psychotic. He follows the news, has good hygiene, and he's smart. 'Cause he's smart, the only physical evidence you'll find is what he wants you to find,” Gideon continued. The person right in front of you wanted to pay attention, but all of his focus was centered on his phone. He’s got some private issues at home that you rather not delve into right now.

“He's mobile, and his car in good condition. Our guess is a Jeep Cherokee with tinted windows. The murders have all involved rapes, but rape without penetration is a form of piquerism, and that tells us he's sexually inadequate.”

The person to your right is paying very close attention to what Gideon is saying, but she is focused on his lips and the way he talks which says that she’s attracted to him right now. That made you want to laugh because you knew for a fact that Gideon was seeing someone on the down low.

“What is it?” Spencer whispered when he saw the hint of your smile.

“That woman over there wants to bone Gideon,” you whispered back.

“How do you know?”

“I’m psychic, Spencer. I know more about a person than you think. Want me to do you?”

“No, thank you,” he whispered and got back to what Gideon was saying.

“Psychiatric evaluations will show a history of paranoia stemming from a childhood trauma—death of a parent or family member, and now he feels persecuted and watched. Murder gives him a sense of power. Organized killers have a fascination with law enforcement. They will inject themselves into the investigation. They will even come forward as witnesses to see just how much the police really know. That makes them feel powerful, in control. Which is why I also think in fact, I know you have already interviewed him,” Gideon finished, causing the entire room to feel shocked at the news.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner

#extreme aggressor #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm angst #season 1 episode 1 #s1e1

243 notes · View notes

paper-n-ashes · 4 years ago

Text

The Late Shift - Part 2

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.

Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see.

Catch up with Part 1 here

Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.

His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.

Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.

Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.

And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.

Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.

It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.

Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say.

So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.

Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.

The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.

Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.

And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?

As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.

About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.

With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.

When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.

Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.

The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.

Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.

You were dying inside.

A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.

In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.

He felt the same. He wanted you too.

You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.

Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.

You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-

The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.

“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”

You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.

Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-

The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.

“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”

His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”

Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!

@tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynz-andtonic @paterson-blue @miraclesabound @prismaticpizza @millenialcatlady

#paul sevier #paul sevier x reader #paul sevier x female reader #adcu #adcu fanfiction

63 notes · View notes

hybridequalist · 5 years ago

Text

Thinking Out Loud (Part 4)

Okay, so I ended up lying. This is a few months late to the cross-post from AO3. (Link here) But in any case, here it is if you prefer to read on tumblr.

Previous Chapter (tumblr link)

Taglist: @nesli26, @manga-crazy, @venomemes, @galleyleelol, @makingtimemine, @jackie-sugarskull, @nightshade7117, @skysthelimit291, @randomshizzles101, @inumorph, @snow-massacre, @phantom-fangirl-stuff, @pixellated-sparks, @vsalamandor2, @otaku-mai, @snarky-badger

You woke up slowly, feeling heavy from a deep, dreamless sleep. The apartment was eerily quiet aside from a faint scraping sound repeating over and over. Your psychic “hearing” took a minute to focus on the three minds in the other room, but once it did, you were overwhelmed by the internal conversation Eddie and Venom were having.

“I LIKE THIS FEMALE. WE SHOULD OFFER OUR PROTECTION TO HER. ”

“I don’t think that would go over well. Remember the last time we were tased? ”

“SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO KNOW. ”

“Consent is important buddy. Not to mention we don't wanna freak out the tenants either."

Lauren's thoughts were more structured--she was writing her words down and concentrating on that communication. However, that didn't stop her from sneaking glances at Eddie and sizing him up, trying to guess details about his life and personality. Currently she was sneaking glances at his biceps...for some reason you really didn’t want to dwell on too long.

"EDDIE, I HEAR HER," Venom whispered to his host. Like, actually whispered; his mental voice was somehow quieter than usual.

“She’s awake? That was faster than I thought. She seem ok? ”

“I THINK SHE’S LISTENING IN. MORSEL, IF YOU ARE, GO AHEAD AND KEEP RESTING. WE WILL OCCUPY THE COLORFUL FEMALE .”

The last two words were accompanied by a mental image of Lauren with an intense focus on her vibrant hair and current choice of large earrings. You also caught the tail end of a thought that was very distinctly non-human and carried traces of a predatory desire to grab the shiny, colorful things. Eddie’s thoughts quickly curbed it--a nonverbal suppression that Venom agreed with.

You slumped back into the mattress, turning your gaze inward as you stretched and assessed your body.

You were a little sore, especially in your chest. The hyperventilation from the panic attack really did a number on you it seemed. Your hands also felt a little stiff in the joints, but it didn’t hurt to move them.

Panic attacks didn’t always end up hurting after the fact, but it wasn’t wholly uncommon. Fatigue was usually the worst aftereffect, your body struggling to recover from your survival response to an imagined threat. It sometimes went away after a good sleep, but today was going to be one of those days where the heaviness settled into your bones and made even the smallest tasks far more tiring than they ought to be.

The once-over complete, you decided you were up for leaving the bed...but not the blanket, which dragged on the floor after you like a fluffy train. You gently pushed open the door and poked your head out, peering at the kitchen down the hall, catching sight of Eddie's leather jacket at the corner of the table.

A jolt of nerves coiled in your stomach and you pulled the blanket cloak around you a little tighter. With Eddie and Venom’s attention focused mostly on Lauren, their thoughts didn’t reflect what they thought of your panic attack. What if they thought you were pathetic? Or too fragile to be around? What if they had never seen a panic attack and thought you were somehow sick?

“EDDIE, SHE’S UP. SHE’S IN THE HALL. HER BREATHING WENT ALL FUNNY AGAIN. ”

Venom’s rumbling thoughts broke through the returning panic spiral. With effort, you stepped out from the hallway and into Lauren’s line of sight. Eddie caught your gaze, brow furrowed, but before you could properly react to him, your landlady took up your view.

Lauren looked you up and down, appraising your condition. While her face seemed only lightly concerned, her thoughts were at war: her motherly tendency to worry battled with her desire to give you space and the noverbal clash of feelings was giving you secondhand mental whiplash.

“Do you need something to eat? Or drink?” she signed. You replied with the sign for water and she bustled off to fill a glass.

“So, uh,” Eddie started, then paused, looking for the right words to finish his question. He finally went with: “How are you doin’ right now? Did your rest do you any good?”

You nodded and sat next to him at the table, reaching for the notepad he and Lauren had used before your arrival.

I’m achy, but otherwise fine now. Mostly.

“YOU WERE HIGHLY DISTRESSED. DID SOMETHING HAPPEN? CAN WE STOP IT FROM HAPPENING TO YOU AGAIN? ”

Venom’s concern felt...oddly directed. He didn’t fully understand what had happened and Eddie’s explanations hadn’t entirely cleared up his confusion. He was under the impression that someone had threatened you or you had some logical reason to freak out. He wanted to find the source of that stress and remove it, like pulling out a thorn.

Mindful that Lauren would probably read whatever you wrote down later, you set about composing your explanation.

It was a panic attack. Sometimes there’s a reason, but most of the time, I start thinking about something stressful and it gets so overwhelming my body reacts like I’m actually in danger.

Eddie and Venom conferred briefly about your explanation and suddenly the symbiote had a new question. You felt your gut twist as you felt the guilt his thoughts now carried.

“DID WE DO THAT TO YOU? DID WE FRIGHTEN YOU OR STRESS YOU? ”

Again, you were careful with your words.

It wasn’t anything you directly said or did. It was more about the prospect of being in a social situation at all. I don’t go out much, so I started overthinking the minor details. It spiraled really quickly from there.

Lauren put down a tall glass of ice water on the table in front of you. You signed your thanks, put down the pen and gulped the cool liquid, savoring the relief it brought your scratchy throat.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked Lauren.

“4 hours.”

“You’ve been talking to Eddie for 4 hours?!”

“He has to write really slow for me to read it. His normal handwriting is too messy. Plus, we took a lunch break.”

Lunch break?! You snatched the pen back up.

I’m so sorry I had to miss out on the lunch. You wanted to show me something and

Eddie’s hand intercepted yours, not grabbing it but rather gently holding you back from writing any more. It was only a moment of skin contact, but it made a jolt run through you and immediately snagged your attention.

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re ok and gonna be getting better. We can reschedule if you want. No problem.”

You instinctively glanced up, looking for his thoughts. You found nothing but sincerity from Eddie. Venom was....well, you weren’t actually sure what he was thinking. On a surface level, he agreed with his host, but underneath that there was some lingering frustration. The symbiote had apparently been really excited to show you something and this forced patience wasn’t entirely sitting well with him.

You carefully moved Eddie’s still-hovering hand and started on a new line.

What about the stuff you wanted to talk about? You wrote, uncertainty and guilt still gnawing at you.

“It can wait. Seriously. My buddy wasn’t even really ready to show off his new trick; he gets excited easy.”

“I SPENT ALL NIGHT PRACTICING! I AM TOTALLY READY! APOLOGIZE! ”

“You’re ready, Vee, but it’s my hands you need if you want to show her in public. And it’s a little soon to invite her to the apartment. ”

“SHE’S ALREADY BEEN TO THERE. I DON’T SEE WHAT THE HOLD UP IS .”

“Those...were extenuating circumstances. And besides, it was more you than me that brought her there. In any case, she’s still getting to know us and I want her to get used to us in public before we do any of your other ideas. ”

It was amazing how quickly they could turn the conversation internal and how much it resembled a verbal discussion rather than truly sharing thoughts. Was it because they knew you were listening? Or was it just their natural state when switching from direct talking to others to each other?

Eddie caught sight of you looking and gave an awkward smile.

“Sorry to keep secrets, but--”

He was interrupted by a ringtone blaring from his jacket. He sighed heavily and snatched his phone.

“It’s my boss. I got an interview in an hour. Sorry to say that I gotta run. I’ll text you later, so go ahead and take it easy for a bit. I’ll leave you to your landlady’s care.”

He waved to Lauren as he answered his phone, turning on his heel to leave. Venom mentally grumbled but gave a nonverbal farewell directed at you. You stared after them long after the door closed, uncertain what to think.

Lauren sat next to you and started signing.

“Well, now I know why you called him a hot mess. Emphasis on the hot.”

You hated how fast your cheeks flushed.

#venom #venom movie #fanfiction #fanfic #reader #venom x reader #selectively mute character #deaf character #hybridwrites

50 notes · View notes

intellitechdataservices · 2 years ago

Text

Now Buy Notepad Plus Convertor and Notepad Plus .wrt Error Checking Software in same Package. Both Software will help you to achieve 100% accuracy.

Accuracy achiever for Notepad Plus is the only software by which u can check errors between Image and .wrt ( Notepad Plus) files directly after typing or converting.

INTELLITECH DATA-SERVICES AND SOFTWARE SOLUTIONS

Call: 7428811442

Whatsapp: 7428811442

Our Website: https://intellitechdataser.wixsite.com/image-to-text

Don't forget to like and Subscribe us.

#notepad plus conversion #image to notepad plus conversion #notepad plus convertor #notepad plus converter #wrt conversion #wrt convertor #data entry notepad plus #notepad plus data entry #notepad plus plus #notepad pluss #notebook notepad plus #.wrt convertor

0 notes

kbstories · 5 years ago

Text

impression//expression

“It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day, he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.”

(Or: Being friends with Bakugou Katsuki is anything but a linear experience. Kirishima Eijirou would have it no other way.)

Tags: Kirishima POV, Developing Friendships, First Impressions, Slice of Life, Character Study

No additional content warnings apply. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9.

***

Kirishima Eijirou had stared at the grin on Bakugou’s face when he pulled the pin in his gauntlet and thought: Holy shit, this guy is insane.

Over multiple screens, a good chunk of Ground β went up in a blast so strong the floor trembled with its aftershocks even here, miles away. Concrete and steel and glass were incinerated in a gust of fire and debris until all that was left was Midoriya’s crumpled form amidst plumes of smoke and Bakugou standing tall in the ruins.

The cameras shorted out once, twice before the image stabilized; the transmission remained silent. There was no sound needed to see how Bakugou’s grin got an edge sharper in the wake of the explosion.

Insane and absolutely deadly.

It wasn’t Kirishima’s first impression of him, per se. Certainly he’d had some sort of reaction to the only name ranked above his own after the Entrance Exams and the total sum of zero rescue points listed beside it. He can even remember the twinge of something in his chest after seeing that infamous quirk in action on day one – be it awe or envy or plain curiosity, that innocent question of How does it work, though? that accompanies most encounters with a new power.

Still: In those first few days, when Kirishima thinks of Bakugou Katsuki, he thinks of the mad glint in his eyes as he went above and beyond in his attempt to murder their classmate (or seriously maim him, at the very least).

In hindsight, having him play the villain was perhaps less coincidence and more fate, given the optics of what could reasonably be described as a shitshow. And, okay, Kirishima knows it’s not exactly fair to judge someone based solely on fleeting observations. His parents taught him better than that. Crimson Riot showed him better than that. It’s not like Kirishima had come all this way to U.A. to immediately break the promise he made to himself upon arrival.

It’s just that Bakugou is as feral as they come, and the moment Kirishima recognizes it’s fear he felt crawling up his spine that day he makes it his personal mission to face it head-on until it’s gone.

Endure and overcome, just like any other obstacle looming over the difficult path ahead. Kirishima smiles around the pencil he’s chewing on as Aizawa drones on, eyes trained on the uniquely tense set of shoulders across the room.

Yeah. Bakugou won’t even stand a chance.

It takes many cold shoulders, rebuffed lunch invitations and countless glares – and a villainous intervention Kirishima could’ve honestly lived without – for a rough voice to say:

“You there. Shark Teeth.”

The sun is starting to peek into the room as it hangs low and lazy in the sky. Class 1-A has just been released into a well-deserved weekend: Kirishima is very much aware his mothers want him home as fast as possible after what happened at U.S.J., and he’s throwing his things into his bag at peak velocity. Only after a tap on his shoulder and a subtle nod from Sero does he register it’s him Bakugou is talking to.

Perhaps ‘growling at’ would be a better description, but… semantics. Kirishima throws the guy a look and a smile over his shoulder either way, “Hey! What’s up, man?”, and given Bakugou’s eyes only narrow a little, he’s about 70% sure he’s not done something to land on his shit list.

Yet.

All Bakugou does is direct a decidedly less neutral look towards Sero, who jolts and stumbles over a quick “Um. Gotta– Yup, okay, bye!” before he books it out the classroom. Kirishima watches him go with some bemusement and a muttered “Dude”, not that Bakugou reacts to it in any way.

“Spar with me”, Bakugou says instead – demands, really – and Kirishima feels his brows tick upwards before he can stop himself, hands pausing in his quest to cram his notepad next to his books without wrinkling its cover page too badly.

“Uh. Like, right now? ‘Cause I can’t. Well, I could but I’m about to miss my train as is and I’d have to tell my–”

A slow blink, and even that is threatening when it’s coming from Bakugou. “No, asshole. This weekend, or something. I don’t care.”

Oh. Kirishima blinks. Something about Bakugou approaching him out of his own free will must be causing a substantial lag between different areas of his brain because– Oh.

“Wait. You wanna hang out?”

Maybe he could’ve hidden the clear surprise in his voice a bit better, that emphasis on you that sort of slipped in there without him really wanting it to. Kirishima’s heart sinks at the twitch to Bakugou’s brow that pretty much guarantees whatever he actually meant to say is forever lost to the ire perpetually simmering in that red gaze.

Well, it was nice knowing what going to U.A. is like. At least none of his classmates are present to see Kirishima’s inevitable – if incredibly untimely – demise.

Then Bakugou… rolls his eyes, exhales a harsh tch for good measure. “Whatever.” He shoves his bag further up his shoulder and, without a glance back, walks out the room–

Oh no, you don’t.

Out of all foolish thoughts it’s that one that shoots through Kirishima’s head before he grabs his stuff and goes after him. Bakugou somehow manages to maintain that no-fucks-given air to his gait despite how fast he walks, and Kirishima falls into a light jog to close the gap.

“It’s a great idea, man. Can’t have us going soft over the weekend! Plus Ultra, just like All Might said, right?”

Bakugou gives him a withering glance of a side-eye for his trouble. Kirishima notes the distinct lack of explode-y manslaughter, though, and allows himself to settle right into Bakugou’s pace.

“Besides, it’s been like a week and we’re already having villains crashing our lessons. I mean, we showed ‘em what’s what and all, but still! Some extra training can’t hurt.”

It’s not like Kirishima minds being the one to carry a conversation yet the fact that he hasn’t been told to shut up is… something? Not enough for Kirishima to point out, it’s just a thing he notices, just something, so he keeps talking. Past U.A.’s gates, down the stairs and onto the busy sidewalk they go, and Bakugou’s hands never leave the pockets of his pants as he marches past clusters of people in an unflinching line.

Head held high, eyes dead ahead. Cutting through the crowd with his presence alone, and in his wake Kirishima follows.

The afternoon light is hitting that glow-y hue that paints even the most mundane of things in shades of gold when Kirishima realizes they’re headed to the train station. He draws up short, slows his step in the split-second it takes to ask himself if the other even takes the train home or–

Bakugou’s eyes are on him, “What?”, that one word barked so impatiently Kirishima throws the thought right out the metaphorical window and keeps walking.

“Nothing!” A flash of his home screen proves: Five minutes left. They’re making good time. Which, actually– “So what time were you thinking for our sparring sesh? I’m good whenever, unless it’s super late at night. Overprotective parents, you know how it is.”

That gets a huff out of Bakugou. That, and a gesture that’s sort of a grab, sort of a wave that has Kirishima a little stumped until Bakugou sighs gruffly. “Your phone, dumbass.”

“Oh, sure! Here.”

The device changes hands. Kirishima contemplates feeling embarrassed about the obvious crack that takes up half the screen; he’d designed his hero costume without his delicate tech in mind, and with the whirlwind of starting and then surviving week one of the new school year, he hasn’t been able to spare a minute to get neither the phone fixed nor the costume amended.

Bakugou doesn’t comment on it – in fact, he pulls his sleeve down to hold the thing as if to cushion it, and when he taps the screen it’s with his knuckles. Before Kirishima can ask, the pre-installed voice control AI chirps its distinct jingle and Bakugou tells it to make a new contact, rattling off a long string of numbers.

Even before the AI has confirmed the input, Kirishima is catching the phone chucked rather carelessly at his head. “There”, Bakugou says, starting to climb the stairs to the tracks two steps at a time.

Kirishima doesn’t have much time to process any of that before the telltale rattling of an incoming train sounds above them. “Oh shit”, he breathes, hurrying onto the platform and to the closest door just in time to see the last passenger get out. Once inside, he pumps his fist.

“Hell yeah! Dude, we–”

The person next to him, who is not Bakugou, looks rather startled. What the…? Kirishima turns a full 360 degrees before a knock just inches from his face startles him and he meets Bakugou’s smirk, firmly on the other side of the window.

Not a moment later, the train starts pulling away. Kirishima presses close to the thick, faintly scratched glass to watch Bakugou turn and walk right back where they came from. His hand is raised, the light catching white and glinting on something in his hand.

A phone. Oh, right!

Kirishima swipes across an image of Crimson Riot’s iconic pose to unlock and reads Bakugou Katsuki, having left the tab open in his haste. First things first: With a soft snort and a few swift taps, the name is changed before Kirishima hits the speech bubble icon next to it.

Baku💣💥

bro what the hell (sent 17:14)

but thanks (sent 17:14)

it’s kirishima btw (sent 17:15)

just text me the details whenever 💪🏻 (sent 17:15)

He watches the tick next to his messages turn blue almost immediately and waits. One station passes, then two. By the third Kirishima is sure he’s been left on read and laughs, shaking his head. Of course.

The rest of his way home is spent assuring Sero he has not, in fact, exited life in a flurry of explosions as well as letting his moms know he’ll be home in a few. The next time Kirishima checks his phone is between brushing his teeth and climbing into bed, two unread messages waiting for him.

Baku💣💥

[link] (received 19:35)

6AM tomorrow, don’t be fucking late (received 19:35)

The link leads to a location which his phone matches to a quirk-friendly gym pretty close to the U.A. grounds. Kirishima scrolls through a few images of the facilities with some interest before his brain registers–

6AM. On a Saturday.

Baku💣💥

/dude/ (sent 22:08)

srsly?? (sent 22:09)

😩😩 (sent 22:19)

f @ my sleep schedule but ok (sent 22:25)

Minutes later, Kirishima stares at the near-painful sight of an alarm set to 5AM before he sighs and flops face-down into his pillow. The things he does in the name of friendship.

>>Chapter 2

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bnha fanfiction #this is just kiri and baku existing inbetween canon events tbh #this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff

62 notes · View notes

xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 years ago

Text

Painted Souls Part 8

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Klaus Mikaelson x Caroline Forbes

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: Slight mention of being drugged, alcohol use, and that’s about it in this one.

Author’s Note: I’m doing things a little differently this part. I’m hoping it works out like I am hoping it will. I was able to sit down and write out this whole part without any interruptions and I am so surprised at how quickly this came out.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

KM: Drinks tonight at The Local Bar?

CF:Yes!

EG: The usual time?

Y/I: Woah, wait a minute, since when does this group chat include Klaus?

CF:Hey, it also includes Elijah now.

Y/I: ...

Y/I: Fine.

CF: She’s rolling her eyes, isn’t she?

EG: Oh, yeah. And there was a reminder of needing to tell you how much she loves you thrown in.

KM: I’m so looking forward to that conversation.

Y/I: I think I’m gonna need a drink.

KM: I’ll take that as a yes for tonight.

EG: That’s a yes.

CF: She’ll even get the discounted drinks!

Y/I: Not everyone has agreed to this.

KM: He has no choice in the matter.

KM: Plus he’s currently stuck in a rather boring meeting with my older siblings. He’ll see these messages once he’s been freed from the torture.

Both Elena and Y/N looked up from the phone with a roll of their eyes. They had just loaded up all of the paintings Y/N needed for her showing. The car had been filled to the brim with the canvases she needed.

“I can understand that meetings can be boring.” Elena said with a shrug as she placed her phone back into her pocket and grabbed the last canvas to put in. “But I doubt its torture for Elijah.”

A chuckle passed Y/N’s lips as she closed up the unit. “I know he has been working on this new case that’s been stressful, but he hasn’t mentioned it being tortures. So, I’m going to take that message as Klaus being over dramatic about it.”

“Sounds fair to me.” Elena said with a shrug.

Y/I:Fine. But I’m not getting the discounted drinks. You guys can fend for yourself for a change.

The moment the message sent, Y/N pocketed her phone and helped Elena get the last canvas into the car. “Just one more stop, and then we can go home and get ready.”

“Do you really think it’s going to take us all day to get ready?” Elena asked once the canvas was in, and began making her way to the passenger seat.

“No,” Y/N said with a shake of her head as they got into the car. “It might take all day just to get me away from the gallery.”

Both girls laughed at that. Elena believed that was an actual possibility of needing to drag Y/N out of the gallery. Elena knew how much this showing meant to her. She was willing to help Y/N out in any way she could. The showing was only a few days away and the excitement for her friend grew.

“I’m sure I can lure you out somehow.” Elena said with a nod as Y/N started up the car.

“Or you could just threaten me with Caroline rushing in to drag me out.” Y/N shrugged “That usually works.”

Elena chuckled. “Something tells me this time I know exactly how to lure you out should you take too long.”

_____

“I’m surprised you haven’t checked your phone.” Freya said with a small smile on her face.

The siblings finally decided on a break halfway through making calls to have law enforcement collect new evidence. While they were making some progress in the case, the only thing that would make things work in their favor was the security footage from The Local Bar.

A sigh passed Elijah’s lips as he looked over at his phone on the other side of the table. The moment several notifications came through at once, he had wanted to check the phone. He had never been one to be so attached to the object outside of work. But with Y/N now in his life, he constantly felt the need to check it.

“If I grab it now, Finn will just return with more evidence that we need.” He shrugged slightly. “Why pull her into conversation when it might be cut short.”

Freya’s eyebrow raised. “I hope she doesn’t think you’re avoiding her.”

“Y/N understands why I don’t.” He nodded his head. “Plus, if I am correct, Y/N is busy herself. She’s getting the rest of her work to get the showroom ready.”

Freya crossed her arms over her chest. “All work and no play.” She said watching him for a moment. “All three of us have taken stress on from taking this case. Especially when it involves soulmates. We’re on edge.” She walked over and picked up Elijah’s phone and handed it to him. “A conversation with Keelin has been making me feel a lot more relaxed knowing she’s okay when I message her. Texting Y/N might do the same.”

Elijah eyed the phone for a moment before reaching for it. His sister had been right. For as worried as he had been the last several hours, he knew just messaging Y/N would make him feel better. As he unlocked his phone, his hope of relieving some of his worries faded.

“I’ve been pulled into a group chat.” He said as he looked up at his sister. “It seems as Niklaus has invited Y/N and her friends to The Local Bar tonight. And I’ve apparently had no choice in the matter, but to attend.”

Freya’s head tilted to the side as she took in her brother’s words. “If they are going to The Local Bar, it might be better for you to go with her. If what Lucien has said is true, the killer is still out there. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Elijah nodded his head. “I’d hate to become the overprotective soulmate that’s just come into her life, but given the circumstances-”

“She’ll understand.” Freya cut him off. “Y/N knows you’re working on a case. She knows that while some information can’t be shared, there are reasons for you to worry.” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “A quick message to her, either by text or by ink, it’s going to make you feel a lot better. And after work while at The Local Bar, you can explain some details and I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Elijah thought about her words. For now, Y/N was safe and by the looks of it with Elena. But that hadn’t stopped him from worrying. As his sister moved away from him, his eyes looked between the phone and the pen that sat beside his notepad. Reaching out in front of him, he grabbed the one thing that would make him feel better.

_____

“These are wonderful, Y/N!” Joyce said as she watched her staff bring in the canvases out of Y/N’s car. “The images you’ve taken of them don’t do them justice. Seeing them in person is so much better.”

“Wait until you see the one she’s got back at the dorm.” Elena said as she beamed at Y/N.

“Joyce actually knows about it, Elena.” Y/N said as she looked over at her friend. “I’ve been sending Joyce progress pictures.”

“That one will definitely be the center of the showroom.” Joyce said with a nod. “I just love how raw and emotional it is in comparison to your other work.”

“I know someone else who will love it.” Elena said as she bumped her shoulder into Y/N’s.

Joyce caught the interaction and a smile pulled at her lips. “Will your muse being joining you on opening night?”

“I’ve been told he wouldn’t miss it.” Y/N answered with a smile on her lips.

“I look forward to meeting him.” Joyce said with a nod. “I’ll get these cleaned up, why don’t you look around and see where you want a majority of these to be placed.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “You want me to choose?”

A chuckle passed Joyce’s lips. “Honey, you’ve been coming to the gallery for ages. You know the kind of eye appeal we look for when it comes to the showing. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Busy?

A smile pulled at Y/N’s lips the moment she caught the words on her wrist. Pulling a pen, that she continuously put into her hair for safe keeping, out she began to write on her wrist.

For you? Never.

Good to know. Might come in handy in the future.

A smirk pulled at Y/N’s lips as she took in the message. She looked around for a moment, making sure she wasn’t missing anything. So far, no one made any mistakes on where she wanted things just yet. It was still all coming together.

Like the near future where your brother is forcing us to go out?

Perhaps.

I know it will be shocking to say, but seeing your writing has made this day less stressful.

I actually know what you mean. There’s more of a connection compared to texting.

At least it is not only me. How’s the gallery?

Unbelievable. I can’t wait for you to see this place.

Neither can I.

I can tell you all about it tonight?

I look forward to it. I’ll pick up soon.

Can’t wait.

_____

Laughter filled the table as the group sat in their usual spot. College war stories were being shared while the alcohol was flowing. While Y/N had denied getting them discounted drinks, Klaus stepped in and talked with Marcel about them.

As usual, Marcel gave in to the request since he had known the Mikaelsons and the girls for quite some time. Whenever his breaks happened, he found himself at the table with them, enjoying the time with them.

“Wait, that’s not how that happened.” Klaus argued, causing Elijah and Marcel to roll their eyes.

“I still have pictures from that weekend if you’d like me to show the girls.” Marcel said with a smirk.

“Oh I wanna see this.” Caroline said as she leaned into Klaus a bit.

The glare that Klaus had given Marcel had made Y/N laugh . “Wasn’t that the same glare we got the other night when we forgot about Caroline’s date with Klaus.”

Elena nodded as she grabbed her drink. “It was the glare for us and the pout filled puppy eyes for Caroline.”

“I’ve seen that plenty of times.” Elijah muttered under his breath. “Most of the time he had been in trouble.”

Both Elena and Y/N almost spit their drinks out as they tried to keep their laughter in. Elijah pulled Y/N into his side once her laughing fit started. With that, both Klaus and Caroline stood up from the booth. Groans and whines came from the others as they watched them do so.

“Klaus promised a dance or two.” Caroline said nodding her head towards the dance floor. “While staying her and drinking has been fun, dancing sounds even better.”

“Fine.” Y/N rolled her eyes and Elena moved to the edge of the circular booth.

“I’ll go get some more drinks.” She noted as she stood. “I’ll be back in five.”

Y/N shook her head slightly and looked up at Elijah. “It seems as if we’ve been purposely left alone.”

Elijah chuckled. “So it seems. Gives me a moment to talk to you about some things.”

Y/N’s eyebrow rose. “About what?”

“The case.” He said with a sigh. “The stress from it,” He shook his head. “Would you want to go to the cabin tonight instead of going back to your dorm?”

A grin pulled at her lips. “I’d love to. We’d just have to stop by the dorm, so I can pick up a few supplies.”

A chuckle passed Elijah’s lips as he leaned into her. “If those supplies include paints and canvases. You can just use what Niklaus has left behind.”

“Maybe I’d like to pick up other things.” She said as she brushed her lips against his.

A smirk pulled at Elijah’s lips. “Do tell.”

Before Y/N could say anything, the familiar squeals of Elena and Caroline reached her ears. A second later the music in the background registered in her ears, and she whined. “We’re about to be interrupted and I’m about to be taken away.”

Elijah chuckled as he leaned back. “We have the rest of the night.”

“Ooh somebody’s making plans on not coming back to the dorm tonight.” Caroline said as she reached the booth and pulled at Y/N’s arm. “Come on, you know we can’t miss this.”

Y/N sighed and slid to the end of the booth. “I promise I’ll be back.” She said giving him a smile. She watched as Klaus plopped himself into the booth before she let Caroline and Elena drag her away to the dance floor.

Elijah watched as the girls found themselves a place on the dance floor and began dancing together. While Elijah had been glad that everyone had been enjoying themselves, there was still that lingering worry about the place they were in.

“I don’t think I’ve see you happier.” Klaus said as he pulled his brother’s attention away from the girls.

“In the short time I’ve truly known her, I can’t see a life without her now.” Elijah admitted. While normally he wouldn’t have said such things to his brother. But seeing as Klaus had been drinking quite a bit, Elijah knew he’d hardly remember this conversation in the morning.

Laughter from the girls had mixed in with the music as it played. The small dance floor had made things crowded around them. But no matter how many times they may have bumped into someone, it hadn’t messed up their mood.

“Alright,” Caroline said as the song came to an end. “I think I may have one too many for the night, and I’m going to sit down for a bit.”

“Need us to walk you back?” Y/N asked wanting to make sure that Caroline was okay.

Caroline shook her head. “I can find my way back easily.”

“Alright.” Elena said with a nod as Caroline left them and made her way towards Klaus and Elijah.

The two stayed there continuing to dance together. Part of Y/N had an idea to call Elijah over. A small smirk pulled at her lips as she looked over at the booth. Before she could make any move to call Elijah over, she felt someone bump into her, distracting her. A moment later a sharp pain came over her side.

“Ouch.” Y/N said out loud as she looked down at her side for the cause of the painful poke.

“What is it?” Elena asked as she watched Y/N.

“It felt like something poked me. I think there might be something in my dress.” Y/N tried to feel the fabric against her skin to pinpoint anything. There had to be something if she had felt pain like that.

“Come on, we’ll go to the bathroom and check.” Elena offered.

“Let me tell Elijah we’re going.” Pulling the pen out of her hair, she quickly wrote a message on her wrist and looked towards Elijah.

Elijah noticed the writing appeared on his skin and his eyes quickly looked up. The moment they landed on Y/N he gave a head nod in understanding. There was definitely a perk of having this soulmate bond in a crowded place such as this one.

They began walking towards the bathroom a moment later. But the closer to the bathroom they got, Y/N felt off. Her head felt heavy and she swore her world was starting to spin. She stumbled slightly, but Elena caught her.

“Woah, how many have you had tonight?” Elena asked concerned.

Y/N shook her head. “Not enough to feel like this.”

Elena’s eyes widened as the words that come out Y/N’s mouth were slurred compared to a few minutes ago. Elena quickly looked around, noticing that their group wasn’t within sight.

“Shit,” She mumbled as she grabbed for the pen Y/N had put back in her hair moments before. She helped Y/N into a booth and quickly wrote on the back of her hand.

911! Something’s wrong with Y/N

Elena had tried to keep herself calm the whole time, not wanting to draw attention to them. Her eyes scanned for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing she saw raised a red flag. There was something out there, but it was obviously hidden in plain sight.

“What is it?” Elijah asked the moment he found them. His eyes went straight for Y/N, and she was barely holding her eyes open as she leaned against Elena.

“She felt something poke her.” Elena said moving so Elijah could move in to take a look at Y/N. Elena watched as Elijah adjusted Y/N, bringing her to the edge of the booth. “After she got her message to you, we started walking this way. But one moment she was fine and then the next she stumbled, her words were slurring instantly. I have a bad feeling about this Elijah.”

“Y/N, look at me.” Elijah’s voice sounded distorted to Y/N, but she opened her eyes as best as she could. Elijah’s blurry figure came into view.

“‘Lijah.” Even the simple word had been slurred. “What’s happening to me?” Even with her vision blurring, she hadn’t missed the way his jaw clenched at taking in her eyes or even at how she spoke.

Looking over his shoulder, he looked at Klaus and Caroline. “Call 911. we are going to need an ambulance here. And Klaus, don’t let Caroline or Elena out of your sight.”

Those had been the last words Y/N had heard before darkness closed in on her vision. Elijah caught her as she slumped forward. The drugs that had been put into her system had taken affect. While Elijah refused to say the words out loud, he knew they were right.

If it hadn’t been for Elena, Y/N would have been taken. And with every alarm going off in his head, it was telling him that Lucien was right. He was innocent in this.

Always & Forever Tag:

@taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @alka16555

Painted Souls Tag:

@inmylifeilovedthemall @graciejunie @this-is-mycrisis @une-lueur-dans-la-nuit @violentmommabear42 @ignorantly-apathatic @carostar2020 @shanty-lol @generallyclumsy @gwenawesomeness @x-memi12 @misunderstood-shadows @krazykatkay456 @emilymarie105 @insertcooluser55 @firedancernix @tuliptx @kpoplover1306-depressedgirl315 @giraffelover2309 @fading-mentality-boquet @sincerelykay12 @dpaccione @castofstrangerthings @twigstar18 @colors-for-theworld-please @foreverlostindreams @petraballins @sorrowfulfragmentation @tattoedraven1022 @heartjoohoney @bitchingkeres @jemimah-b99 @athenamikaelson @high-on-shai @we-dance-through-an-avalanche @lilipads @sagittarianwolf @gazzellifics

Stag Tag:

@elejah-wonderland @xxsovereignsarayaxx @asiaaisa77 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @bulldozed88

Bold Tags mean for one reason or another I cannot tag you in this. If you would like to be added to or taken off, please let me know. ♥

#The Originals #The Vampire Diaries #Painted Souls #Painted Souls part 8 #Elijah Mikaelson x reader #Reader insert #Klaus Mikaelson x Caroline Forbes #Elijah Mikaelson #Klaus Mikaelson #Elena Gilbert #Soulmates AU #Elijah Mikaelson Soulmate Fic #Elijah Mikaelson imagines #Elijah Mikaelson fics #The Originals Imagines #TVD #TO

119 notes · View notes

matrimonialautotypesoftware · 10 days ago

Text

Data Entry Notepad Plus Auto Typing Software Download| Jpeg Image to Notepad Conversion

youtube

#Youtube

0 notes

perublog227 · 4 years ago

Text

Balsamiq Mockups For Mac

Balsamiq Mockups For Mac Photoshop

Balsamiq Mockups Tutorial

Contents

1 Balsamiq Mockups 4.1.4 For Desktop Full Crack + Keygen For Mac & Windows

1.4 Disadvantages:-

Balsamiq Mockups 4.1.4 For Desktop Full Crack + Keygen For Mac & Windows

Pencil is a standalone app or Firefox extension. that lets you create diagrams or UI. Balsamiq Mockups 3.5 for Mac is a powerful application for sketching and working on different user interfaces. Balsamiq Mockups 3.5 for Mac Review A powerful application for creating mockups, Balsamiq Mockups 3.5 comes with a reliable set of tools and an easily understandable environment that allows the users to work on different drawing. Balsamiq Mockups v4.999.2058 License Key Full Setup Download Through the software one can convert files in PDF form to export or import to various sources. It is one of the best and popular software that allows a user to work for windows and it is compatible for wireframing.

Balsamiq Mockups 4.1.4 Crack is a graphic and design tool that reproduces the experience of sketching on a notepad or whiteboard but using a PC or Laptop. It really makes you focus on structure and content, avoiding lengthy discussions about colors and details that should appear later in the process. You can generate more ideas with Balsamiq Mockups Online.

Balsamiq Mockups License Key offers digital drawings and sketches, You can create and customize designs in real-time during a design discussion meeting, as well as easily customize and modify your designs. So, you and your team can now work together in a single tool to quickly browse the wireframe before writing code, and there are many ways to exchange and receive comments on your developments.

The plus of the Balsamiq Mockups Keygen model is that it improves the performance of your work with precise facts and figures. It gives you easy access when you draw because it is digital. It provides the tools necessary to sketch and work with different interfaces.

Balsamiq Mockups helps all professional and home users to create better and impressive software, improve team communication, focus on what matters and highly useful for clients. It is the latest version of 2020. You can also Balsamiq Mockups Free Download from this site. I already use this tool. So, I will suggest you use, this tool Balsamiq Mockups 3 Full + Crack Free Download.