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hotchscoffeecup · 6 months ago

Text

stricken

summary: hotch tries to hide a panic attack from the team. you walk him through it.

pairing: hotch x reader (platonic)

tags: panic attacks, recall to foyet attacking hotch, mentions of knife violence, recall to foyet killing haley

words: 2k

“He kept them alive.” Morgan sighs and throws the file containing photos of the most recent victim in a long string of murders down on the table.

“These stab wounds are precise,” Reid adds. “He must have extensive knowledge in a medical field; a doctor or a medic, maybe.”

“No,” Emily counters. “This man doesn’t have the confidence to match either of those professions. It would be something that allowed him to blend into the background, where he could observe and hone his skills. He might be a Medical Assistant or Vet Tech.”

“I’ll start cross-referencing work records with clinics, hospitals, and veterinary offices in a twenty mile radius.” Penelope ends the video call and disappears from the wide screen in the conference room, leaving the digital photos of the victims and the crime scenes in full view.

You stare at them, bewildered by the cruelty this unsub inflicts on his victims; the psychological torture he inflicted to coincide with the physical. You click your pen absentmindedly as you pour over the evidence left behind. As you tilt your head, squinting at one of the images, you notice Hotch in your peripheral vision. If you’re not mistaken, you see his hand shaking at his side. You blink and it stops; instead, he flexes his hand open and closed.

The others are talking, exchanging ideas and identifying characteristics to further bulk up the profile. You turn in your chair, brow furrowed as you watch Hotch reach up and loosen his tie.

“Hotch, what do you think?” Morgan asks. The team all turns to look at him and he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Hotch?”

Without looking at anyone in particular Hotch excuses himself, tucking his head and swiftly dipping out of the room.

Morgan arches a brow. “What do you think that’s about?”

“I don’t know,” you say, concern edging into your tone as you push yourself up and out of your chair. “I’m going to go find out.”

As you exit the briefing room, you survey the bullpen and catch a glimpse of his jacket fluttering around a corner. You weave through detectives and uniformed officers, the din of voices, papers shuffling, copiers whirring, and phones ringing echoing throughout the space.

“Excuse me,” you say, maneuvering around three officers chatting by the water cooler.

You turn down the hall you swear you’d seen Hotch disappear into, but all you see is a janitor’s closet at the far end of the corridor.

As you turn around to retrace your steps and search for Hotch, you hear a whoosh of breath. This stops you in your tracks as you strain your ears and turn back towards the closet. Hesitantly, and feeling somewhat foolish, you reach for the handle and open the door.

Your lips part and your heart drops as you identify your Unit Chief braced against a shoddy shelving unit. In the dim light of the single lightbulb illuminating the space, you make out the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggles to take in a full breath.

Without hesitation, you slink inside and close the door behind you. Fortunately, the space is wide enough to grant you enough room to be in there without it feeling confining.

“Hotch, what’s wrong?” you ask, inclining your head to look up into his eyes. They’re wild, dilated pupils flickering back and forth across your features as he swallows.

“I can’t—” he starts and stops, closing his eyes and scrubbing a hand across his face. “I don’t know why, I just— I can’t breathe. I can’t—”

“Okay,” you say, voice soft but firm. “Hotch, I think you’re having a panic attack.”

His brow pinches as he wrestles with that observation. “A panic attack? No, I don’t— I’m fine. It’s not—”

His hands shake as he reaches for his tie, fingers fumbling with the knot causing them to shake even more.

“Let me help,” you say and telegraph your next moves clearly; reaching forward to completely undo his tie and first button of his shirt.

He releases a heavy sigh and something of a sob escapes his lips. “I’m the, the Unit Chief. I see this stuff every day. I don’t—I’m not—” He swallows hard and looks up at the ceiling, as if there would be some sort of solace to find in the popcorn ceiling tiles.

“I just…I can feel it,” he rasps. “I can feel it.”

“Feel what, Hotch?”

His breathing quickens; coming in short succinct bursts that leave him panting and unable to catch his breath.

“His knife. I can feel it.” He squeezes his eyes shut and a tear leaks down his cheek.

Realization dawns on you then and your heart fractures for your Unit Chief, the pillar of the team; the one who bears the brunt of responsibility to ensure everyone else on the team is okay and ultimately sacrifices himself in the process.

George Foyet. You’d joined the team after this case, but everyone knew the story. He’d incapacitated Hotch inside his own home and stabbed him repeatedly; slowly, and in places that would inflict significant damage, but not kill him. Foyet later would go on to kill Hotch’s ex-wife, Haley. Hotch had been on the phone at the time of it all and heard his wife die. You can’t imagine the turmoil he must have gone through; physically, mentally, and emotionally. It’s no wonder this case would trigger such terrible memories.

“I was alone.” Hotch breathes heavily and clutches an arm around his waist. “I can feel it now. I can—the knife, it was, oh God—” His hand taps rapidly against his leg. When his knees begin to wobble, you’re quick to react when he collapses.

Instinctively, you throw your arms out and thread your arms beneath his as you crash to the floor together, knees slamming into the hardwood as you fall. Hotch sobs into the crook of your neck as he clings to you and you wonder just how long it’s been since anyone has held him. Hesitantly, you shift your weight so you can hold him properly with one arm wrapped around his back while the other cradles his neck. You brush your fingers through his hair and speak grounding words to him.

“You’re safe, Hotch.” You then tell him your exact location and repeat your name to him, reminding him of all that is tangible. You describe the room you’re in, from the arrangement of products on the shelf to the cloying scent of bleach and Windex that lingers in the air. You draw attention to the distant sounds inside the bullpen and instruct him to focus on your voice. “I promise that you’re safe,” you repeat.

“Foyet is dead.”

His grip tightens around you and his tears soak into your blouse.

“He can’t hurt you or anyone else.” You fight to keep your own voice from cracking as you bear witness to your friend’s pain.

“I need you to breathe, Aaron.” His first name feels strange on your tongue, but you need to bring him back. “In for four,” you say and breathe deeply through your nose for four counts, patting Hotch four times on the back to offer a different type of stimulation for him to try and ground himself with through physical touch. “Out for your four,” you say as you release the air in your lungs and pat him four more times on the back.

You continue to model this pattern until you feel him start to relax under you. His breathing continues to shudder, but he’s trying to self-regulate.

“Good, Hotch,” you encourage as he works to regain control. “Keep breathing. You’re safe.”

You continue to pat your hand against his back, acting as a metronome for him to keep time. You find yourself rocking him gently as you do this and eventually he shifts beneath you.

Tentatively, you begin to pull away. You don’t let go of him though, not yet. You want to make sure he has a tether to reality and physical touch can help him remain grounded.

Hotch sniffs and wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. He keeps his eyes downcast and shakes his head. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

Your brow knits together as a wave of utter confusion washes over you. “Hotch,” you say, almost sternly. His eyes flick up to meet yours and you look at him straight on. “Don’t ever apologize for that. In fact, I’m sorry, actually.”

Now it’s his turn to look puzzled. “For what?”

“That you felt like this was something you had to do in private. That you felt like you couldn’t tell one of us.”

Hotch rubs at his eyes. “It’s not that,” he begins. “I’m not supposed to break. I’m the Chief of this Unit. I’m supposed to—”

“That’s bullshit, Hotch.” An exasperated sort of smile crosses your lips then as you realize you never use that kind of language, especially around your boss. “Apologies, Sir, but you know as well as I do that you don’t have to save face for any of us. We’ve all been to hell and back in one way or another. That case out there; the precise stab wounds, keeping the victims alive…it’s exactly what Foyet did to you.”

Hotch bristles, but you continue on.

“The body remembers, Hotch.” You drop your hands to his wrists and squeeze. “You survived the improbable. Your wounds healed and you did the mandated counseling, yes, but you’re still allowed to break down. You’re allowed to have bad days.” You incline your head to meet his gaze head on. “But you can’t shut everyone out. You don’t deserve to suffer alone.”

Hotch nods slowly and takes a full deep breath before meeting your eye. “You’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” you say and you smile when his lips twitch up at the corners. “I know because you taught me that.”

“I remember,” he says, though he doesn’t bring up the unsub that could’ve killed you. It had only been your third week on the team and the case had brought you out to Boise, Idaho. When you’d located the unsub, he’d engaged you in a physical altercation where he’d successfully disarmed you and put you in a chokehold. Oxygen had been effectively cut off from your airway and you were so close to losing consciousness that you’d be dead right now if JJ and Emily hadn’t incapacitated him when they had.

“I was going to quit the team,” you say. “After that case, I didn’t think I had what it takes to be a member of the BAU.”

Hotch’s brow twitches as he relaxes back against the wall. “You never told me that.”

You shrug, “I didn’t have to. When you found me in the break room after hours when I thought everyone else had gone home and talked me down from my own panic attack, I tore up my resignation letter.” You smile then. “The minute we stop feeling, that’s when we can no longer do this job. That empathy is what gives the families hope and keeps our victims alive. When we lose that, we lose our humanity. Never stop feeling. Feel everything, and then feel it again. Talk about it. You’re never alone. We’re a team. We’ll always have one another’s backs.”

“I said all of that?” Hotch asks, both amused and in disbelief.

“It’s what I tell myself every time I feel the strain of this job is getting to be too much, and it helps keep me grounded.”

He tilts his head and laughs to himself. “I should probably write that down.”

You laugh in turn, “You probably should.”

Hotch moves to stand up then, scooping his tie off the ground and offering you a hand as he does so. You take it and allow him to pull you to your feet.

“Thank you,” he says and offers you a genuine smile. “I just hope that these bags under my eyes don’t look puffier than they usually do now.”

You roll your eyes and open your arms to hug him. He chuckles as he embraces you and thanks you once more.

“Don’t ever change, sir.” You rub your hand up and down his back and feel that the tension has completely relaxed out of his posture. “Don't ever change.”

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angryschnauzer · 6 months ago

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Click - A Twisters Oneshot

Summary; As a storm photographer you know all the chasers, so when you run into two old familiar faces - where you have history with both - it proves to be a stormy night.

Fandoms: Twisters Movie, Glen Powell, Anthony Ramos.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Female Reader x Javier (Javi) - MFM threesome.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Alcohol, Drug Use (Weed/Pot), Fingering, Oral Sex (Female recieving), Oral Sex (Blowjob), unprotected Vaginal Sex, Spitroast, Double Penetration, Double Vaginal Penetration, Spanking, Hair pulling, choking/air play, spitting in mouth, creampie, no discussion of consent, implied consent, impared judgment. Please don't do this in real life unless able to give consent.

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, and you'll get an alert when i post new stories. Masterlist is available through my pinned post.

Authors notes; This is my first time writing for almost 18 months after severe writers block, and a whole load of truly horrible shit that has gone on in real life for me. Seeing Twisters has reinvigorated my passion for writing and it feels good to be able to be creative again.

Glen Powell Masterlist

Click

The bar was loud and smokey, country music in the background that could be heard between gaps in conversation or the crack of pool balls being split as another new game started. The air was filled with a heady mix of liquor and petrichor, rain imminent from what had been a frustratingly humid day.

Storm chasing was fun. The rush of adrenaline when the radar picked up those telltale colours on the satellite, but for the past 72 hours there’d been a whole lot of nothing on screen. Blue skies were pretty and all, but much like the atmosphere outside, there was a tension in the air that was only growing thicker by the minute. As a photographer you weren’t affiliated with any particular team of chasers, but with your skill renowned in the industry you could pretty much tag along with anyone you liked.

The sound of a scuffle across the bar drew your attention, the shrill ring of beer bottles knocking to the floor, the tell tale sign that tempers were fraying in the turgid atmosphere. Rolling your eyes and sighing you grabbed your beer and decided to stroll outside, not wanting to get caught up in an impending bar fight.

The air outside was a little cooler, a breeze having picked up, the scent of rain hanging thick in the atmosphere. Wandering the wide wrap-around porch of the bar you saw a familiar sight, smiling at the silhouette of an old friend, dark curls atop his head moving as he spoke with passion to another familiar face.

It was Tyler that spotted you first, nudging Javi who turned before a grin spread across his face;

“Well look who it is, our very own Click”

Laughing at your old nickname; one given where you’d had the habit of favouring traditional film cameras rather than digital, the sound of manual lens shutters is one that earned you the affectionate title.

You approached the pair, grinning as Javi swept you into a firm hug, one hand cradling the back of your head with the other arm tightly wrapped around your back as he lifted and span you, before setting you down on your feet again;

“It's been too long” he said with a grin before pressing a brief kiss to your cheek.

You’d spent almost a month with Javi a year or so back when he’d still been in the corporate side of Chasing, getting paid well where you’d been able to get some amazing images Storm Par could use on their marketing material and website.

The sound of a brief cough as someone cleared their throat behind you had you turning and meeting a wide smile;

“Tyler”

“Was wondering if you remembered me”

He pulled you into a hug, before pressing a gentle kiss to your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.

“It's hard to forget someone who still hasn’t paid their invoice”

A flush of embarrassment tinted his cheeks as he pulled back, bashfully raking his hand through his hair;

“Shit”

“Hey hey” Javi cut in; “This dude owes you money?” he asked you.

“You know that awesome header image he’s got on the youtube channel? One of mine” you looked at Tyler who very much seemed like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole at that very moment; “All Chasers get the same terms; credit or payment. Its not credited, so he got sent an invoice and it’s still not paid”

Tyler reached out for your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles;

“I absolutely promise I’ll get it paid. And we’ll credit you too, we get so many comments from that image alone”

At that moment there was a ruckus as a small crowd of people came up the stairs from the street, calling out and greeting Tyler and Javi. It soon became clear it was the rest of their team. Most made a beeline for Tyler, to which you and Javi stepped aside and started to talk;

“So remind me again how you ended up going from Corporate Insurance Chaser to Hillbilly Youtube Chaser?”

He laughed, his eyes sparkling;

“You remember Kate? She kinda managed to convince everyone to be in it for the science, rather than the money or the glory”

“Well i never would of had you and Tyler Owens teaming up on my betting card for sure”

Javi laughed;

“Tyler’s awesome. He knows his stuff. And he’s loud enough to be in front of the camera to keep the audience entertained enough to let the rest of us actually do the science part. We work great as a team.”

Looking around you realised the team were a few people short;

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Up in Kansas City doing a presentation for the Mayor and Senators, hoping to get cooperation with some early warning systems we want to help provide the data for”

Nodding you sipped your beer as the pair of you settled into familiar conversation, the rest of Tyler’s crew welcoming you and soon the minutes passed into hours. Beers were replenished and Whiskey shots started to appear, before the tell tale scent of pot floated on the air. Sweet and cloying, you could tell it was leaf rather than resin, realising the joint was being passed around Tyler and Javi’s crew before someone slipped it into Javi’s hand. He grinned as he took a deep toke of the joint, holding it in before slowly exhaling, holding it out to you before you shook your head;

“I’ve got a better idea” you smirked; “Take another toke”.

A smile tugged at the corner of Javi’s mouth as he inhaled deeply from the joint again, the embers on the end glowing a deep amber red. He nodded and you quickly stood close, cupping your hands around his mouth as you pressed your own mouth to your hands and inhaled as he exhaled.

The buzz immediately hit you as the weed hit your oxygen starved brain, swaying on your feet before Javi wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close;

“Steady… let it flow through you, it’ll be strong”

Grinning and giggling softly you swayed on your feet, safe in Javi’s arms before finally regaining your balance.

“Ok, my turn now” Javi handed you the joint and you inhaled deeply, filling your lungs with smoke before nodding. He quickly stepped forwards, cupping his hands around your mouth and repeating what you had done, only this time he was close enough that you could feel his open lips against yours. Staring into those intense hazel eyes you could sense a hint of mischief, before he stepped back as he held in his breath. Finally exhaling he too swayed on his feet and you reached out to steady him, both now giggling.

“What are you two up to?” An amused voice asked.

Turning just as Tyler slipped the joint from your fingers, he inhaled deeply as he looked between you and Javi.

“Hotboxing” you replied with a grin.

Tyler wrinkled his brow before exhaling the smoke, moving his lips to form three perfect smoke rings before blowing the rest straight up through the middle of them;

“Hotboxing? I thought that was when you dropped a silent fart in a packed elevator?”

“Not where we’re from. Its when you inhale someones toke as they exhale, the lack of oxygen means the weed hit is more intense”

Tyler grinned;

“Okay, don’t believe that but i’m game”

He handed you the joint back and you inhaled again, before doing what he’d seen you and Javi do with your hands as he cupped your mouth and you exhaled. His eyes went wide as he held it, before stumbling a step backwards. He let the smoke out in a shaky exhale, his hands moving to your hips to steady himself. Overcompensating he then swayed forwards, pushing against you and into Javi, the railing of the porch catching him as you were sandwiched between the two men.

The three of you were in fits of giggles, the pot going to your brains before you finally managed to steady yourselves.

“Jesus christ on a bike” Tyler exclaimed; “That was intense”

“I can’t believe you’ve never done that before Dude” Javi laughed, turning to take a fresh round of beers from Boone, his goggles sat atop his head.

Boone signed like an old mother hen, before taking the joint from your hand that you had all but forgotten was still there;

“Ok i’ll have that back, thank you”

Giggling into your beers, you sipped on the drink, comfortable and content between two old friends.

It wasn’t long before the simmering tempers inside the bar bubbled over and spilled out onto the porch, the bar owner yelling that he’s shutting for the night and all the ‘damn Chasers’ could ‘fuck off home’.

Knowing when your welcome had run out the three of you drained your beers before stepping off the porch and down to the sidewalk.

“C’mon, we got a bottle of whiskey back at the motel” Javi wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked side by side.

“I’ll think you’ll find that's my whiskey, '' Tyler commented.

“Sharing is caring Tyler” you retorted back, met by his megawatt grin;

“Oh i don’t mind sharing”

At that moment you felt the first few droplets of warm summer rain to hit your skin, looking up as the clouds above finally relinquished their heavy load;

“What motel you guys at?”

“The Rodeo Econo Lodge, it's a couple’a blocks down”

“Sounds glamorous” you commented.

“Been staying there since my rodeo days” Tyler explained; “It’s clean, cheap, and the beds are comfortable”

“And they had enough vacancies so we didn’t have to squeeze four to a room” Javi added.

“Hang on, are you two roomies?”

Tyler nodded;

“Apparently we both ‘snore’”, which he waved his fingers in the air to emphasise quotation marks; “So the rest of the crew unanimously decided we had to bunk together from now on”

“Thus the whiskey” Javi added; “It helps me sleep through Tyler’s talking in his sleep”

“Says the guy that whines like a Golden Retriever in his”

You were by now laughing your ass off whilst getting soaked to the skin in the rain, chilled and relaxed before your mind caught up with half a thought you’d had a few moments ago;

“So you used to ride in the Rodeo?”

“Uh-huh, before college”

“Were you any good?”

Tyler smirked;

“Taught me some good life skills and how to ride hard when you got someone bucking beneath you”

By now you had reached the motel, Javi leading the way up the external staircase as you followed with Tyler bringing up the rear;

“Is that so?”

You felt the playful spank to your rump just as you reached the top of the staircase, quickly followed by Tyler wrapping his arms around you and his mouth against your ear;

“Play your cards right Click and you betcha”

Javi hadn’t been paying much attention, instead having to concentrate on keeping his hand steady enough to get the key in the door of their room, calling out in triumph as it swung open and he stepped into the dark room. As you and Tyler followed into the darkness you could hear Javi muttering about trying to find the lamp, but in that moment you had been spun around and Tyler's lips had found yours.

The kiss was hot and sloppy, his hands on your rib cage pushing your soaked shirt up your torso. His tongue pushed into your mouth and you tasted beer and whiskey in his embrace.

“What the fuck guys?”

You hadn’t noticed Javi had found the lightswitch, but he had obviously not been expecting to see Tyler getting to do what he’d wanted to do for a while. Before the situation could go south you pulled away from Tyler and closed the distance between Javi and yourself, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck to entwine your fingers in the soft curls at his nape, and you pulled him into a long awaited embrace.

You felt him tense, before softening into the kiss, his fingers gripping your hips as he pressed your bodies together and you could feel his need growing from the hardness pressing against your abdomen. When you finally broke the kiss to gasp for air, you smirked at him;

“I thought you said you two worked great as a team?”

You heard two quiet ‘oh’s , before a warmth pressed against your back as Tyler joined the pair of you.

“Fucking hell Click, you’ve no idea how hot that sounds”

Javi pulled you back in for another fierce kiss, this time his hands roaming the front of your body, pulling your shirt up and grunting his appreciation when he found your breasts to be free of a bra. Palming them in his warm hands his thumbs rubbed over your pebbled nipples, sending a wave of arousal straight to your core. At the same time Tyler’s hands found your hips, his long fingers pressing into your flesh as his soft lips found that sweet spot on the side of your neck just below your ear. He pressed his hips to your ass, rutting against you and you could feel his arousal insistently pressing against you.

As Javi’s lips left yours to press a trail of open mouthed kisses down your neck, he pulled away to give himself room to bend down and take one of your breasts into his mouth, that skilled tongue teasing your nipple before moving to the other. Tyler took the chance to cup your jaw and turn your head, kissing you with a clash of tongue and teeth.

Whilst Tyler had you occupied you hadn’t realised Javi had gotten to his knees in front of you until you felt his nimble fingers opening your jeans and tugging them down your thighs. Looking down you saw his eyes darken beneath his lashes before he pressed a kiss to your mound through your panties. As you held his gaze you felt Tyler rest his chin on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around your body. One hand cupped your breast as the other he held up and swirled two fingers in the air - the Chaser sign for tornado - to which you watched as Javi’s grin widened and he nodded as he did the same. But this time you knew those finger swirls meant something else.

You held your breath as Javi wrapped his fingers around the elastic of your underwear, pulling the soaked scrap of fabric down your thighs before he pressed his mouth to your slit. His tongue pressed through your folds before he found your clit, his fingers stroking your juices around the tight entrance between your thighs. He finally slid two fingers into your tight channel, the pleasure coursing through you as you rested your head back against Tylers wide shoulder.

Reaching your arms behind you, your palms welcoming the warmth of Tyler’s denim clad thighs beneath your hands, stretching a little further until you were able to cup him through the soft well worn denim. You wanted to feel more, more of their hands, their lips, their dicks, but felt restricted by your bunched clothing;

“I need to be naked” you gasped out, causing both men to pause their ministrations. They worked quickly together, Javi pulling your boots off before tugging your jeans and panties off in one, as Tyler yanked your shirt over your head.

Standing naked before these two men you started to paw at their clothing, pushing shirts off of shoulders and tugging white t-shirts from their pants. If ever there was a time where you wanted four arms it was that moment, desperate to feel their skin against your own. Whilst Tyler got caught up unbuttoning his shirt you made quick work of the button and zipper of Javi's pants, sliding your hand beneath the fabric of his underwear to wrap your fingers around his thick shaft. He gasped at your firm touch, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck before pulling you into a fierce kiss.

When you pulled away you glanced at Tyler who had pulled his boots off and was naked to the waist, his sculpted torso that of a marble statue. The metal clink of his belt buckle prompted you to move to him, unzipping him and sliding your hand inside the denim and beneath the dark jersey of his boxer shorts. Long and patterned with ridged veins, he was as hard as a rock in your palm, a soft whimper escaping his lips as you pumped his uncut dick.

He let his jeans and underwear fall to his ankles, cupping the back of your neck as you bent at the waist to take him into your mouth. Wrapping one fist around his girth you steadied yourself placing your other hand on his firm thigh, lowering your mouth to his tip to taste the bead of precum that pooled there. Pressing a chaste kiss to the smooth crown you opened your jaw to take him into your mouth, unaware your pussy was about to be stuffed. The firm push as Javi speared your hot channel pushed you forwards, forcing Tyler’s dick into your throat.

“Mmmmfffmfmmff!”

“A little warning next time huh Javi?” Tyler commented as he pulled back to allow air to actually reach your lungs; “but good god woman, your throat is a thing of wonder… no gag reflex”

You heard the sound of a high five but were too lust drunk to worry about it, too busy flying on a wave of pleasure as you were spit roasted between two hard cocks.

Tyler reached beneath you to cup your tits, grasping them as he moved his hips to fuck your mouth, a mixture of spit and precum running down your chin. At the same time Javi reached around your hip and searched out your clit, rubbing firm circles with two fingers against the sensitive nub whilst he fucked his thick cock into your dripping pussy.

Your orgasm caught you by surprise, your body shaking as you moaned around a mouthful of flesh. Your knees were close to giving out when Javi pulled out and brought you upright, his arms wrapped around your torso;

“Steady Click, don’t need you racing ahead off the radar for this” he kissed your neck whilst you reached out for Tyler. Stepping out of his jeans he closed the gap between you before sliding his hand between your legs, pushing two fingers into your soaked pussy;

“Such a lovely pussy, can’t wait to see it dripping with our cum. Gonna fill you to the brim. Do you want that?” his mouth brushed against yours as he spoke, but you could do little but pant like a bitch in heat.

You nodded, your mouth hanging open.

“Bed, now” Javi instructed, nodding for Tyler to lay down. You whined at the loss of Tyler’s fingers filling you but instead were treated to his tight ass as he crossed the room before laying on the bed.

“Come’ere Darlin. Climb on, i’ll teach you how to ride a bucking bronco”

Javi gave you a little push, almost the encouragement you needed to leave his arms. Climbing onto the bed you straddled Tyler’s thighs before crawling up his body. As you bent down to kiss him you heard the crack of the seal on a bottle of liquor, turning your head and seeing Javi drink straight from the bottle as he approached the bed.

As Javi climbed onto the bed, Tyler lifted your hips with one hand, steadying his cock with the other as he lined himself up before letting you sink down a couple of inches onto him. Javi straddled Tyler’s legs behind you, wrapping his arms around you before lifting the bottle to your lips. As you dipped your head back to drink from the bottle you felt his hand firmly on your shoulder, pushing you down to take Tyler to the hilt.

The whiskey hit the back of your throat and the rush was intense, the feeling of being filled by Tyler almost overloading your senses as he bucked like a steer beneath you. Javi breathed hot in your ear, his body pressed to your back. He took a large slug of whiskey before you pulled the bottle from his hand, taking another mouthful before leaning forwards. Tyler anticipated what you were doing;

“Yeah baby, spit it in my mouth” before opening wide to allow you to let the warm whiskey drip from your tongue to his. As soon as he swallowed you leant forwards and kissed him, sloppy with tongues and teeth, and you felt his cock slip out of you, landing wet and sticky on his abdomen. You weren’t empty for more than five seconds before you felt Javi push into you from behind, his palm coming down on your ass with a loud smack.

Riding you hard you were pressed between the two men, Javi filling you from behind as Tyler lay beneath you, his dripping shaft rubbing against your pussy as you were pushed back and forth. After what seemed to be an endless few minutes your arms were pulled behind your back as Javi held your wrists at the base of your spine. His lips on your earlobe;

“Get ready for the real rodeo”

With your attention on Javi you had lost sight of Tyler before you felt him angle his cock towards your already stuffed hole, as Javi seemingly lowered the pair of you until Tyler managed to slide in alongside him in your now overstuffed cunt.

“Such a good girl”

“Taking us so well”

Their praises merged into one as your eyelids fluttered shut, rocking your hips gently as your body grew accustomed to being double stuffed. As your arousal flowed from you your movements increased to the point both men were able to alternate thrusts, making sure there was never a moment when you weren’t full of cock. They filled and defiled your body until you were flying on an arousal high. Javi’s grip on your wrists faltered, your hands slipping free. As Javi pushed you down and Tyler fucked up into you, you curled one hand over your shoulder as Javi bit at your neck, curling your fingers through his dark curls. Glancing down at Tyler his normally pale green irises dark with arousal. He stretched his neck and you watched as the muscles shifted, his adams apple bobbed up and down. You rested your palm on his chest and he immediately wrapped his fingers around your wrist, nodding as he pulled your hand to his throat.

Realising that both your boys liked a little pain, you tugged on Javi’s hair as your fingers closed softly against Tyler’s throat, dual groans filling the room as they both thrust harder into you, pushing you ever closer to your release. Tyler grabbed your hips and started to pull you down harder onto him, Javi cupping your tits firmly as he fucked you harder from behind.

You were the first to cum, screaming out your release as if you were howling to the moon, Javi and Tyler following just seconds behind filling you with two thick loads of their creamy seed.

Releasing both men from your grasp you softly rested on Tyler’s chest as Javi pressed gentle kisses to your shoulders, before the latter pulled out. You felt a flood of cum seep from your stretched hole, soaking down to Tyler’s balls and onto the bed.

Some time later you were clean and showered, the three of you having squeezed into the tub and washed the sweat, whiskey, and cum from your bodies, before Tyler had discovered the bottle of whiskey discarded on his bed now half empty where the cap hadn’t been replaced. He had started to protest until you had slipped your hand into his and led him to the other bed - where Javi was already beneath the covers - and had silently confirmed you wanted to be close to both of them for the night.

Facing Javi whilst being the little spoon to Tylers big spoon, you sleepily said goodnight and muttered about finding your ride for the next storm.

“You should ride with us” Javi stated softly.

Letting out a quiet laugh you shook your head;

“You two combined? You drive like madmen, i’m scared of riding with you!”

Tyler pressed his lips to your ear;

“Well you know what I say…”

“If you fear it, ride it” they said in unison.

“And you’ve already ridden us both, so you’ve got nothing to fear” Tyler finished.

Letting a sigh you grinned and nodded, letting sleep take you as you were flanked by two crazy tornado wranglers.

#click #angryschnauzer #tyler owens fanfic #twisters fanfic #tyler owens x reader #glen powell #anthony ramos #tyler owen x you

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sweaterrat · 1 year ago

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PORTALS ✦ Chapter 2

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“Fallen Down” — Undertale

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The crescent moon illuminated the rooftops along with the lights of the city. Stars brightly glistened with the moon, dancing in its beams. It was a night like every other night. The unsleeping city of Manhattan bustled below, blissfully unaware as four figures leaped from roof to roof. The quartet landed on top of a building right in front of a closed museum.

They all watched carefully as a hooded figure looked around. It was too far to get a good look at their face, especially while they were hidden in the dark. They glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then slipped into a dark alleyway next to the museum.

Donnie and the others had been following this guy for a few blocks now and everything about them screamed trouble. They kept on tailing them until they ended up here.

“Just seems to be a lowlife burglar,” Donnie scoffed. He didn’t have time for this, he had mountains upon mountains of projects to catch up on. Couldn’t this guy rob a museum another day?

“Still, it’s our duty to keep this city safe. No matter how small the threat,” Raph stated, browbones furring as he scanned the area for any possible onlookers or accomplices.

“Raph’s right, we can take care of this guy no problem!” Mikey piped up, weapon in hand and ready to go whenever Raph said so.

And then there was Leo. He looked as confident as ever with that cocky look on his face. “If they’re just some thief, this’ll be easy peasy!”

Raph sighed, “Only if you don’t mess it up. You always get way over your head, Leo. Just please listen to me this time so we can get this over with.”

Leo just rolled his eyes. “The whole point of being a leader is that you lead. Which is a role that Dad gave to me, so I get to call the shots now,” he argued smugly.

Raph, along with the others, could only groan in annoyance.

“Do you at least have a plan?” Donnie questioned, already growing tired of this.

“Uh, no? Why would we need a plan? Just ninja in, ninja their face, and ninja out. Easy.”

Donnie did nothing but pinch the bridge of his snout.

Raph sighed deeply. “Consider our plan?” He huffed, gesturing to the others.

Leo simply raised a brow. “You have a plan? No offense bro, but you were never the strategic type.”

“We don’t want to make this longer than it has to be. Stealth would be quicker and won’t attract unwanted attention,” Donnie tapped away on his tech band, not even bothering to look up.

Raph nodded. “We find out where that crook got in and use that as an entrance—”

“Why would we need to do that if I have my portals?” Leo interrupted, seeming smug that he had found a plot hole in Raph’s plan.

Donnie spoke up this time. “Your portals are bright and obvious, like yourself—”

“Hey!”

“—And if we’re going stealth, it’s better to stay as discreet as possible.”

“Exactly.” Raph nodded proudly to the softshell. “And when we’re in, we find the guy, apprehend ‘em, and leave it to the cops to deal with the rest. We’ll be in and out.”

“I like Raph’s plan!” Mikey said enthusiastically which earned a prideful smile from the eldest.

Leo’s sly smirk morphed into a pout at no one agreeing to his (totally awesome, cooler, and better) strategy. He dramatically groaned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Fine,” he grumbled, begrudgingly complying. “But my plan was cooler.”

Content enough, Raph turned to the others. “Alright, let’s—”

A loud, beeping alarm sounded from Donnie’s tech gauntlet. It pulsed a faint, reddish glow.

“What in the world is that annoying beeping sound— oh wait, that’s me.” He tapped on the gauntlet’s screen and pulled up a purple digital display. “What do we have here…?” He mumbled to himself.

“What is it?” Mikey asked, peeking over Donnie’s shoulder to get a better look at the screen. The softshell expanded the hologram so everyone could see it properly.

On the monitor, there were four brightly colored dots. Blue, red, orange and purple. But not too far off to the side was another dot— a white one. It was far brighter than all the other dots on the screen. The unknown entity was pulsating waves from its center. Donnie furrowed his brows and zoomed into the location.

“Well, that's odd,” he mumbled, cupping his hand over his mouth while continuing to mutter incoherently.

“What’s odd? What is that?” Raph inquired while looking up quizzically at the digital screen.

“I’m not sure what it is,” Donnie squinted at the new entity. “It just popped up on my monitor.”

“What’s with the uh, the things coming out of it?” Leo asked, peering up at the circular waves emitting from it.

“Waves of mystic energy,” Donnie said simply, but it all still perplexed him. “I’ve never seen something this strong before. It might be dangerous, I think we should check it out.”

“What about the robber? Hm? In the museum? Ringing any bells here?” Leo said while wildly gesturing to the building below them. “They could be getting away right now!”

“You’re right, we’re gonna have to split up for this,” Raph stated. “Donnie, Mikey, you two go find out where that mystic energy is comin’ from. Leo and I will—”

“Hold on, hold on! Last I remembered, I’m leading the team,” Leo fussed. Raph pinched the bridge of his snout, grumbling.

“Leo, we don’t have time for this—”

“Alright! New plan! Donnie, you and Mikey can go see whatever that mystic business is about. Raph and I’ll deal with the museum guy, ‘kay?” The terrapin instructed.

“That’s literally exactly what I said.” Raph sighed through his teeth.

“Well, I said it better.”

Raph rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Let’s go.”

Donnie retracted the hologram and beckoned Mikey to follow him. “Onwards, Micheal! We must locate this plethora of mystic energy! It could be important.”

“Or extremely dangerous!” The other piped in cheerily.

And with that, both pairs went their separate paths.

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Kat’s brain pounded against their skull. Their eyes slightly squinted open as they clutched their head. How did they end up on the floor?

“What the hell happened…?” They groaned, sitting up on their knees as they scanned their environment. Despite their blurry vision and aching head, they were able to make out that they had no fucking clue where they were. They were on an unfamiliar rooftop in the middle of some unfamiliar city. They knew this wasn’t a dream, they tried to conjure up Leo ages ago.

What in the world— where the hell were they? Panicked now, they looked around frantically for some sort of memorable landmark. Taking time to survey their surroundings properly, they spotted scaffolding, metal bars, wood planks, and more assortments of building tools. They assumed that they were in an unfinished construction site.

“Okay, okay,” Kat breathed, talking to themself like a normal person because normal people talk to themselves and possibly sleepwalk their way on top of buildings.

Shaking their head, they tried to regain focus. What was the last thing they remembered? They snuck out of their house, then they were walking with Niyah and that weird portal showed up— oh shit, the portal! OH SHIT, NIYAH!

“Niyah?!” Kat called out, barely managing to stand before a sharp pain shot through their ankle. They yelped and fell back to the ground.

“The hell?” They grunted. Kat peered down at their ankle quizzically, but shook their head to try to ignore the pain. They noticed something just a little away from them and their heart dropped to their stomach when they realized it was Niyah.

Assumptions of the worst flooded their brain, making panic course through them. “Niyah?!” They shouted again without a response before taking a deep breath, slowly standing up, and limping towards their friend.

Kat collapsed next to her, scanning her unmoving figure, and began to lightly nudge her. “Hey, hey, Niyah? C’mon, wake up! This isn’t funny!” Their voice cracked as their shaking became more violent. Kat kept pleading but Niyah never woke.

Kat’s breathing quickened and they gripped their arms tightly, their nails digging into their skin. It felt as if they had fallen into freezing cold water, only to find that when they tried to emerge, they were being weighed down by an invisible force, making them spiral deeper and deeper into the never ending depths of anxiety.

“It’s okay, Kat,” they said in an attempt to comfort themself. “You just fell through some portal and now you’re in some random city on a random rooftop with a busted up ankle and your unconscious, possibly dead best friend. No big deal!” They let out a dry laugh. If anyone else was around, they would probably think Kat was insane.

Kat thought to themself; maybe there was someone around who could help them? But then again, anything here could be dangerous. Maybe they should—

Their thoughts were abruptly paused when they heard a crash echo on the other side of the roof. They perked up like a deer in headlights, listening carefully for the next possible noise.

They heard voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Could this be help? Or an enemy? Kat couldn't see anyone, they were hidden by the large crates in front of them. Looking around for something to protect themself, Kat spotted a toolbox just beyond arm’s reach. Surely there could be a hammer or something they could use as a weapon?

They stretched their arm out for the box, fingers grazing the handle countless times but it was just an inch out of their reach. Kat strained to grab it, wrapping their hand around the handlebar.

“Ha!” They laughed triumphantly before the whole box tipped over, clattering loudly on the floor. All the contents scattered around the ground and Kat’s breath hitched when they heard the other voices stop abruptly.

Frantically, they looked for a place they could possibly hide. The most they could do was try to shrink as far as they could into a corner and hope whoever was on the other side of those crates wouldn’t see them.

With Niyah in their arms, Kat snatched the closest tool they could find— a metal wrench— off the floor and shuffled closer to a wall, further into the shadows. They could do nothing else but hold their breath and wait.

“Pretty sure it came from over here,” a voice mumbled. Kat’s brows furrowed, have they heard this voice before? They swore it sounded familiar.

“Be careful, it could be something dangerous…” That’s two familiar voices now, that couldn't be a coincidence.

Kat held their breath, gripping their wrench and holding Niyah protectively with one arm. They heard the slow steps of the people on the other side of their hiding spot, closing in.

A tall figure, hidden slightly but the shadows crept around the corner. Maybe it was because Kat was sitting down, and maybe it was because their anxiety was through the roof then, but whatever the silhouette was it looked like a monster. Its face was obscured by the dramatic shadows it was hidden in; and yet, it somehow still looked vaguely familiar.

Out of instinct, Kat flung the tool at the figure. The wrench cut through the air, souring true to its destination. The throw was so clean and so accurate that it flew miles past the person’s head, missing completely.

The wrench clattered loudly on the ground, echoing obnoxiously and for far too long. The two just stared at each other awkwardly.

“I think you missed.”

Hold on, why did they sound exactly like��

“You okay, Dee?” The second figure popped their head around the corner.

Wait a damn minute.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

The duo stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the moon. Kat realized instantly why they sounded so familiar. The moonlight highlighted their features like their green skin and three fingers, their color coded attire and gear. And even with the two standing right in front of Kat, they couldn’t believe it.

There was no way in hell that Kat was looking at the fucking ninja turtles right now.

Kat was frozen in place, mouth agape and eyes widening at the people in front of them. They felt their head start to spin.

They were definitely dead. If they weren’t dreaming, they were dead. That’s gotta be the only explanation. They fell in a trippy portal and died and Niyah was probably double dead.

Kat’s shock seemed to trigger something in the other’s memory and he frantically started to cough up some excuse.

“Oh, hi! We were just uhh— looking for the t-turtle costume competition?” One of the mutants— Mikey— jumbled, shooting glances at Donnie to ask for help.

“What? Oh! Right, of course! We seemed to have lost our way to the humanoid alien convention that is most definitely real and not something made up mere seconds ago! Also fear not, these are simply very elaborate turtle costumes and we are most definitely humans,” He rambled proudly.

Mikey held his head in his hands.

Looking down at Kat again, Donnie seemed to finally notice Niyah who was carefully held in Kat’s arms. They realized who Donnie was now looking at and protectively held them tighter as a way to say ‘back off’. Kat knew well that she definitely couldn’t beat them in a fight but damn it, she’d go down swinging if she had to.

“What happened to your friend there?” The softshell asked while gesturing to Niyah.

Kat hesitated. “I… I don’t know,” she muttered helplessly.

Mikey chimed in. “Are you guys okay? Do you need help?” His eyes flashing with concern.

Donnie was quick to speak up. “Now, hang on— we don’t even know who these strangers are! Again, they could be dangerous.” Mikey didn’t listen in the slightest and approached the two anyway which earned a groan out of Donnie.

Mikey crouched down to their level, cautiously moving closer. Kat’s breath quickened as she tried to back away.

“Hey, it’s okay. We won’t hurt you,” He cooed as one would do to a frightened cat (which was comically accurate in this case).

Kat eyed him carefully for a moment. “You won’t?” they asked meekly and Mikey simply shook his head. Kat tried to let themself ease up a little. Their tense shoulders relaxed just a bit and the terrapin smiled at that.

“Donnie, can you do your scanny thingy to see if they're hurt?” Mikey asked while looking back to his brother. Donnie sighed and rolled his eyes, then silently pulled down his lenses to scan the two.

“Woah,” he let out.

“What?” Kat said, threads of concern weaved into their tone.

“Seems like you were the cause of that mystic energy I detected earlier. Or rather your sleeping bud over there,” he responded, flicking his goggles back up.

“What- what do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is none of you are badly hurt. Although you,” pointing to Kat, “have a sprained ankle. Probably not good to walk on it, and you might wanna check your friend for a concussion.”

Kat noticed that he never directly answered her question, but she was too scared to ask about it again. Instead, they looked at their ankle and winced.

Mikey piped up, “Don’t worry! We’ll get you fixed up.” Kat reciprocated his smile.

“I’m Mikey by the way. That’s my big bro Donnie over there.” He gestured to the other who half-heartedly waved.

“So, where are you from? And how’d you get up here?” He questioned, tilting his head while doing so. Kat paused for a moment, not really knowing how to respond.

“Um, we aren’t… from here. And for how we got up here, I have no idea,” They replied wearily.

Kat had noticed that Donnie had stepped away for a moment, seemingly talking to someone on his tech band thing. They strained to get a better look at who was on screen.

“Pretty sure he’s talking to Raph, our other brother,” Mikey said, noticing Kat’s curiosity. Kat decided that the best route was to play dumb. It would definitely be safe to act like they didn’t know basically everything about the turtles.

“Uh, so are all your brothers… turtles?” They ask slowly.

“Yeah, they are! We may look scary but I pinky promise we’re the good guys!” The terrapin held up his pinky(?) to Kat. They looked at it for a moment, then brought their own shaky hand to his. As they linked pinkies, Kat got a rush of… well they didn’t exactly know what. This whole thing had felt like a weird, vivid dream. It was one thing to look at the turtles, but now they had touched them and it just made the whole thing more real.

Donnie returned to the others, “Raph’ll be back with Leo in a bit. They sound like they’re dealing with some trouble.” Kat’s breath hitched at the sound of Leo’s name. Holy crap, are they going to meet him too?

Mikey noticed Kat’s nervousness and kindly placed a hand on their shoulder. “Don’t worry, they won't hurt you. I promised, remember?” He smiled brightly, holding up his pinky again. “I know this might feel like a lot to you, but it’ll be okay,” he cooed.

Kat inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm themself. They wearily looked down at Niyah, who was still unconscious. With a deep sigh, they closed their eyes.

What have they gotten themselves into?

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WAHOOOOO CHAPTER 2 IS OUT EVERYONE!!! I hope you guys liked this one hehe ^^ 💛💛

@yourlocalartsonist @yosajaeofficial and @oleander-nin are our lovely beta readers <333 go take a look at their projects!! They make amazing stuff :]

<-Previous||Next->

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screams-in-writing · 8 months ago

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Still editing ch 3 and going on to outline ch 4 based off how that ch ends. Tentatively going for an early Thursday/late friday post for ch 3, and if Mr. Puzzles behaves, a possible late sun/early Monday post for ch 4.

For now, have a little preview of a later chapter’s scene where the reader finds out that not only are those tv antenna on Mr. Puzzles’ head actually sensitive, but he’s also very much touch-starved.

Note: This is planned to take place ch 7 or ch 9, if all goes according to the outline. It may change, however, and may even change/be split between pov depending on where it falls when editing.

~ Curiously, you reached out to touch the crooked left antenna.

Mr. puzzles stuttered, but continued to sing, a furrow appearing on the screen of his face as he turned his head toward the camera, as if trying to see what was on the other side. Likely he was unable to, with how many tvs were in the immediate area of the unused area of the strip mall (and powered on, despite the lack of people).

You touch the right antenna next, pinching the metal between thumb and forefinger.

This time, Mr. Puzzles actually stopped singing altogether as he promptly spoke in a strained voice.

“Dear viewers, please stand by for a quick maintenance break!”

The screen switched over to a ‘please stand by’ screen with Mr puzzles’ tv head logo on it. But within moments, there was a sudden switch to static before Mr. Puzzles’ technicolor smile and digital eyes appeared on the screen before you, wearing a harried expression.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Mr. Puzzles asked. Then, with a flash of a sly smile. “Or were you trying to let me know that you’re enjoying the show?”

“Let my coworkers come back. They didn’t mean anything by their teasing.” You jabbed a finger at the screen. “You can’t just kidnap people to use like puppets in your little shows.”

“Little?” Mr. Puzzles sounded offended and incredulous. “I’ll have you know I always strive for a 5 star rating in everything I do. Little.” A scoff, as mr puzzles voice and expression switched again to become smug. Amused with what he was about to say, even if his voice was anything but. It was cooler and deeper. More indifferent yet also Curious. “What would you do if I don’t let them leave?”

“This.” You deadpanned, repressing a shiver over the tone shift as you reached over to sharply pinch both of Mr. Puzzles’ antenna.

“Ah!”

Before Mr. Puzzles could say more, you squeezed the metal tight before giving it a sharp yank. You expected a yelp of pain or even a digital stutter, but it was quite the opposite.

Was that…had that been a moan?

“What in the-? Are you…are these actually sensitive?!” You let go of the antenna like they’d burned you as you took a step back. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-I thought it was more like the equivalent of being poked or something for you.” You jumped a little when one of Mr. Puzzles’ hand, the arm attached to it, came out from beneath the TV to seize your hand. You thought he was going to bring you into his ‘show’, but that wasn’t what happened.

Mr. Puzzles merely placed your hand back onto one of his antenna.

“Absolutely not.” You attempted to pull your hand away, despite Mr. Puzzles’ continued hold of your wrist. “I’m not touching your antenna if they’re that sensitive.”

“Please.” Mr. Puzzles sounded like he was winded, even as he took on a pleading tone. “I liked it.”

“…I think we need to have a conversation about what exactly it is you want with my home town and why you keep popping up everywhere I show up after my roommates threatened you with a garbage disposal for following me around without me knowing it.” You said, eying Mr. Puzzles arm and then his screen of a face. Then, shaking your head, added. “I didn’t even realize that you could experience anything like a human. I thought you were a robot?”

“Mmm…more like a cyborg?” Mr. Puzzles mumbled. “I still have some of a human body. It’s just different than before.” The hand loosened its tight grip on your wrist but didn’t let go. “Please?”

no acknowledgment of how odd it was for someone you knew less than a month was so interested in following you about after work, where he had been ‘filling in’ for the hours you couldn’t work.

oh.

speaking of coworkers.

“Bring my coworkers back.” You countered as you moved your hand out of mr puzzles slackened grip.

Mr. Puzzles studied you for a moment, but must have seen something in your expression that made him sigh theatrically that you were serious. Then, he reluctantly retracted his arm back within the tv (somehow).

Much faster than you expected, Mr. Puzzles let your coworkers go; you could hear them end up in the empty store next door with yells of surprise followed by confusion, and then at least one of the two burst into loud sobs of terror.

Swifter than even letting your coworkers go, Mr. Puzzles sprang up off the table, and before you knew it, he’d crowded in on you against the wall. Eagerly, he bent down and shoved his screen into your shoulder, before subtly tilting his head to present his antenna to you. No concept of personal space whatsoever, even if Mr puzzles kept his hands to himself by brace it then on his legs. wait.

Oh no.

You’d inadvertently introduced Mr. Puzzles to another way to get attention from someone.

Possibly attention from you in particular.

This being assumed, because Mr puzzles soon impatiently straightened up when you did nothing, and, gentler than before, grasped your hand and led you over to a chair.

You sat down, confused, and ready to point out you ought to go check on your still brokenly sobbing coworker when Mr. Puzzles promptly removed his television head to place on your lap.

So that was a thing.

Mr. Puzzles flashed an expression up at you in what he likely thought was a hopeful look, but it only came off as desperate and deranged. Aaaand his body had just sat down on another chair as it kind of just went…inert, with the hands resting on the top of the knees.

Weird. You distantly wonder why the body horror right before you didn’t draw a big reaction from you. Maybe you were in shock? Maybe you’d seen enough of Mr puzzles antics that day in your home and at the cafe that it didn’t seem any different than those times?

“If you’re going to interrupt my show, then perhaps you could show me why you thought it necessary to tug on my poor antenna?” A huff of breath, then a strained. “But don’t actually tug in them so harshly.” A pause. “Please?”

nope. not when you didn’t know if it was a tactile, platonic thing to mr puzzles to have his antenna touched (unlikely based off what you just saw and heard), or if it somehow brought a sensation of pleasure (more likely, and definitely not something a casual acquaintance asked of another).

yikes.

You don’t think that Mr. Puzzles anticipated that you would do something other than what he wanted. So he was in a shock of his own when you stand up, and totter along while carrying his television head out of the abandoned store with you.

This left mr puzzles to fumble around in the dark as he protested, muffled against where you carried him to your chest, the entire way to another store where you set his television head down, and poked the screen to get his attention.

A gasp of comical offense.

Mr puzzles’ body could be heard running into something with a ‘thud’.

“You can’t do that to my coworkers.” You point to the screen and then to the general area where crying could be heard. “Especially not when you’re already covering for my work while my arm finishes healing up.” You lean in close to make sure mr puzzles was looking at you. “And you shouldn’t kidnap people in general where no one but you knows where they went. My coworkers friends and family were so worried when they were gone for nearly two days.”

sirens sound in the distance.

one of your coworkers called the cops? Or something unrelated?

Mr puzzles might have said something, to try and steer the conversation elsewhere or make up some flimsy excuse, but you were distracted by both the sirens and realization of the heat emanating from his screen. Since the body wasn’t there to grasp your wrist again, you reached out to rest your fingers on Mr. Puzzles’ screen again, ignoring the stutters and glitching that rose in his voice.

Huh.

He really did feel like one of those old tube televisions you’d had when you were younger, complete with the warm screen and fuzzy static sensation.

Mr. Puzzles’ voice eventually slipped into soft pleading. Something about not leaving fingerprints on his face, while you curiously traced along the outside of his screen. It didn’t occur to you in the moment that Mr. Puzzles had feeling in his screen of a face, though not as sensitive of a place as the antenna were. You’d not even noticed the fact that Mr puzzles body had collapsed only feet from where you were, twitching before curling up and hugging itself to then begin to tremble. You only became aware of the body when its long gangly arms wrapped around your waist in a clingy hug that made you jump and accidentally knock mr puzzles head off the flimsy table to the floor.

The arms let go of you as mr puzzles’ body sprawled out on the floor with a groan of discomfort rising from the television set.

“would you care to try that again so I can get a good recording of that?” Mr puzzles sounded huffy, and displeased as he pat around the floor until he found his head. With a grumble, the tv man picked it up to turn on he screen toward you, mr puzzles wearing a slightly feral, unhinged expression.

you swiftly leave the empty store to go check on your coworkers. Mr puzzles did not follow, but you could hear a low laughter ring out from the room behind you along with a raised, falsely cheerful lilt of a farewell that sounded more like a threat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” A little unhinged laughter trickled out. “I look forward to having another…stimulating conversation with you, my dear.”

Later, when you weren’t looking over your shoulder for Mr. Puzzles, you wondered why he let you touch his face, when he seemed so averse to anyone but him touching his television face, especially when you’d punched him in the screen not a month ago. Not only that, you also came out of the odd interaction with the knowledge that Mr. Puzzles could be successfully diverted from his hyper focus of turning your town into the greatest television show ever (or tormenting your coworkers in one of his shows) with just a touch to his inhuman head, and the antenna that stuck out of that ridiculous hat of his.

#smg4 mr puzzles x reader #fic snippet #more a chunk of text really #mr puzzles discovers another way to get attention aka being doted on with pets to his tv head #Again this is on my phone so errors may be there as this is a draft #tw suggestive #I think?

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ixhika-jsx · 5 months ago

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## What’s a Cyber Forensic Investigator?

Master post - part 1 • part 2

You must have heard bout forensics yk investigating bout dead people who might have been killed and all

You must have seen shows on those topics too.Cyber forensic investigator is just of same kind but investigating through all types of modern gadgets.

Catching hackers and all but cooler

### The Money Talk: How Much Do They Make?

- **Cash Money**: Expect to rake in about $60k to $120k a year. If you are very much experienced and skilled then you can expect about 150k+ a year.(obv different countries and companies may have different wages)

### Companies That Want You

- **Tech Titans**: Google, Amazon, Facebook—they all have requirement for such heroes

- **Gov Jobs**: FBI, CIA—basically every spy agency wants you.

- **Cybersecurity Firms**: CrowdStrike, McAfee—so every gateway you go you gonna have opportunities everywhere.

### What Other Forensic Investigators Are There?

- **Forensic Pathologists**: Real-life detectives who figure out how someone died. Less tech, more science.

- **DNA Analysts**: The ones matching DNA samples

- **Forensic Accountants**: Following the money to catch fraudsters and scammers

- **Toxicologists**: Poison experts, figuring out if someone’s been covertly poisoned. (Yeaa yk snow white story)

### What’s the Work Environment Like?

- **The Lab**: Imagine a room filled with more screens than your gaming setup. Gadgets galore, maybe even a Red Bull or two

- **On the Move**: Sometimes you’re out in the field, collecting evidence. Think of it like collecting rare items in a game.

- **Remote Vibes**: You could be solving cybercrimes from your bed in your PJs .

### How Long Does It Take to Become One?

- **Time Investment**: About 4 years for a bachelor’s, and then 1-2 more years for a master’s if you’re going all-in. So, 5-6 years total. But hey, good things take time, right?

### What Do You Study?

- **Cybersecurity/Computer Science**: Your main jams. Think of them as the ultimate cheat codes for this career.

- **Digital Forensics**: Specialized courses where you learn to be a digital ninja.

- **Law and Ethics**: Learning how to catch the bad guys without breaking the law yourself. (You yourself don't want to be troubled obviously)

### Subjects You Need to Get Into It

- **Math**: Yep, but not the boring kind—more like coding and algorithms.

- **Computer Science**: Your go-to for everything techy.

- **Optional Nerd Points**: Chemistry/Physics if you’re into hardware forensics or just want to flex those brain muscles.

### Work Hours: What to Expect?

- **9 to 5-ish**: Standard hours if you’re working for a company, but expect some late nights or weekend shifts when big cases pop up.

- **On-Call Madness**: Sometimes you’re on-call like a digital firefighter. Cyber-attack at 3 AM? Time to suit up (or log in) and handle it.

- **Flexible/Remote**: If you’re lucky, you can work from home. Just remember, no solving crimes in your underwear during Zoom meetings!

### Interview with a Cyber Forensic Investigator

**Interviewer**: What’s a day in the life of a cyber forensic investigator?

**Cyber Sleuth**: Imagine rolling out of bed, grabbing your coffee, and diving into cases. I’m talking analyzing hard drives, sifting through emails, or tracking down cyberattack origins. Some days it’s all data, other days I’m working with law enforcement or testifying in court. Never a dull moment!

**Interviewer**: What’s the coolest case you’ve worked on?

**Cyber Sleuth**: Helping bust a phishing ring that was scamming millions. Tracked their digital footprints, caught the culprits, and recovered their loot. Felt like a total legend.

**Interviewer**: Ever seen some dark stuff, like murders?

*Cyber Sleuth**: Yeah, I’ve stumbled across some pretty grim stuff. It’s not all memes and malware—sometimes it’s serious business. But catching those bad guys makes it all worth it.

**Interviewer**: Have you ever been on the dark web?

**Cyber Sleuth**: Oh, for sure. It’s like the sketchy underbelly of the internet. Lots of shady deals. I go there when I need to, but it’s not a fun hangout spot.

**Interviewer**: How dark can a case get?

**Cyber Sleuth**: It can get really intense. I’ve worked on cases involving human trafficking and other serious crimes. It’s tough, but making a difference makes it worth it.

**Interviewer**: Any advice for someone who wants to get into this field?

**Cyber Sleuth**: Stay curious and keep learning. Tech evolves fast, so you’ve gotta keep up. And don’t be afraid to dig deep—sometimes the answers are buried in tons of data, but finding them is like hitting gold.

So if you’re into tech and have subjects like mathematics , chemistry and physics then you are all set to start your journey.i have seen ppl running for a common a job and all and they are not even specified about what they want. So just research and find out what you want.

#masterpost #career #self development #light academia #study blog #academic validation #academic weapon #student life #study #study motivation #study with me #studyblr #studyblr community #forensics #computer #codeblr #masterpostjam

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captainnameless · 11 months ago

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Seeing their joint interview has got me in the mood for some soft sweet Lando & Oscar thoughts!! If you have any pls share xxx

“Being such a good boy today, Lando.” Carlos praises, rubbing the last off the sunscreen on his hands onto Lando’s face.

Lando hums, face flushed and sweaty from exercise. He doesn’t squirm away from it, probably because of the snacks he’s promised, already downing the juice box that Daniel has pulled from the cooler waiting patiently for his salted crackers.

“Alright,” Carlos finishes, turns to Oscar who’s watching them with glassy eyes, a light dusting of pinks over his cheeks as well as down his neck. “Your turn, cariño.”

Oscar doesn’t seem to realize that means him, and so Daniel looks up from where he’s still sorting out snacks, gently squeezing Oscar’s hip. “Osc.”

“Hmm?” Oscar seems to snap out of his trance, flush deepening on his cheeks, aware he must’ve missed something.

“Be a good boy, Oscar.” Lando pipes up from around the straw in his mouth, patting the space next to him.

“Oh hush.” Daniel laughs while returning to his snacks, Carlos holds a hand out, pulling Oscar closer and having him sit down next to Lando on the concrete in front of him, to the side of the padel courts.

They probably won’t play another round, but the sun in Bahrein is treacherous and Carlos won’t let his hard work of having the boy sun protected go to waste in their last 30 minutes of being outside.

Oscar gets handed his juice box by Daniel but he seems to patiently wait for Carlos to finish his application.

“Close your eyes, please.” Carlos says with a soft smile, gently coating Oscar’s paler skin in sun screen, making sure to get behind his ears and down his neck.

“Such a good boy.” Lando praises for him, and Carlos snorts while Oscar flushes a deeper red, something Carlos is trying to prevent.

“All done,” Carlos hums, wiping his hands down his shorts before brushing Oscar’s hair back. “Enjoy your snack, pequeño.”

Despite them being sure they had tired the boys out, Lando manages to challenge them all to a race back to the hotel and luckily no one falls or scrapes their knees.

They’re post shower snuggled on the couch, Oscar’s already mostly asleep, slowly but surely sinking more into Daniel’s chest when Lando announces the unthinkable.

“I wanna nap, Papa.”

“We should call the news.” Daniel says, gently running his fingers through Oscar’s hair.

Lando scowls at him, sticking out his tongue before pushing himself away from Carlos and moving to the bed to annihilate the bedding, ripping it from the mattress despite Carlos’ cringing.

“Amor,” he chastises gently. “We have blank-”

“This.” Lando says simply, dragging the duvet from the bed and over to the couch, separating the sheet and shoving that in Daniel’s direction.

“Why thank you.” Daniel laughs, grabbing onto the sheet and covering himself and Oscar with it, who’s now surrendered to snuggling into Daniel’s chest.

“Oh!” Lando says, dropping the duvet at Carlos’ feet before going to retrieve Oscar’s giraffes, snatching them up before gently clambering onto the sofa that Daniel’s made himself comfortable on, (not so) accidentally kneeing him in the balls in the process.

“Oof!” Daniel huffs out, making strenuous effort to not yeet himself and Oscar off the sofa in pain. “Lando!”

“Shh.” Lando says, pressing a single digit to Daniel’s lip. “Oscar’s sleep.” He whispers, putting the giraffes next to him before nuzzling close for a second.

It’s too cute for Daniel to do anything about the attack on his poor manhood.

“Kiss.” Lando says, before pressing a soft kiss to Oscar’s head and then waiting expectantly for a kiss from Daniel. He gets two.

Lando clambers back over to Carlos, who has managed to situate himself with the duvet and opens it up for Lando to climb under, snuggling into his chest.

“No kiss for Papa?” Carlos asked in feigned hurt, brushing his hand downstairs Lando’s back, he’s rewarded with a kiss to the jaw and a “love you” that does the job.

#littlef1adventures #lf1a.minific

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geminison · 2 years ago

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modern-ish things I would like to show dishonored characters

I got inspired by this lovely post by @dogg-teethh and kinda made my own thing but with dishonored protagonists and some side characters so, low and behold

Daud

blues music in general, he would enjoy brooding while listening, and Fleetwood Mac

thriller movies, can't abide the mysteries so would be glued to the screen until the very end. would get mad if it ends on unexplainable cliffhanger

radio dramas, something to fill the silence while doing paperwork

antidepressants, no comments

rope bondage, but not in a sexual way (yeah, I've seen it in ff and thought, yep, seems like his thing)

Corvo

90s fashion, a bit awkward but appealing somehow?

David Bowie, that's so specific? complex and diverse but funky

takeout food, he doesn't really cook, has terrible eating behavior and just plainly starvs when there no food around, so that would be helpful

absurdism, whole "acceptance without humility" thing? i dunno

Lord of the Rings, a small hero with a great burden and greater stakes, it would resonate

Emily

punk rock, 80s pop, industrial and Corvo would also show her "Rebel Rebel", she would vibe with it

Satoshi Kon's movies, great female characters and a bit of insanity

comics, variety of styles and stories to tell! she did enjoy drawing while she was younger, maybe it would inspire her to pick a pencil again

asian cuisine, a lot of different flavours, I wonder how she would like it

marine biology, so much info about whales and other weird ocean creatures, again little Emily would be so happy

headphones, she would feel even cooler while jumping from one roof to another and kicking asses

Billie

airplanes, speed, freedom and views! you are already a captain of the ship, time to tame the sky!

anarchism, yeah, fuck the government!

family therapy, grab your old man by the hand and fucking go, you need it, it wouldn't be easy but please

Killing Eve

heavy metal music and jazz, Emily and Corvo approve. Daud, well, tolerates, it's a bit too much for him

Outsider

video games, all kinds of it!

DnD, especially GM role, you don't have to be a god to feel a little bit like one, and he also has this dramatic side it would def suite him

sci-fi and horror genres

techno, ambient and modern classical music

programming and hacking, he's a nosy young man, he'd like to know all your secrets, and it's just fun ehehe

Delilah

big fashion shows for stylish and powerful lady

therapy, again, no comments

expensive cars that people own and don't drive

Florence + the Machine and MARINA

iPad, Apple pencil and some software for drawing digitally

social media

#dishonored #dishonored 2 #daud #corvo attano #emily kaldwin #billie lurk #the outsider #delilah copperspoon #if you have something else in mind please share it would be so interesting to see what others think!#corvo and daud predictably were the easy ones #then emily and the outsider were alright #and in the end i struggled with billie and delilah #but i was adamant on including them all so yeah #a good half of these things might be too specific #i don't have access to my drawing tablet so i entertain myself by writing silly little posts

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autistic-crypt1d · 5 months ago

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Stargate (1994) live blogging:

Ok so I'm a huge fan of the SG-1 and Atlantis shows and have watched them in double digit amounts each, but I haven't seen the original movie since I was like 7. I'm about to rewatch SG-1 again and I've decided to finally watch it again, here's my thoughts!

Updates:

- I'm nervous because all I remember is that I hated it which is why I never watched it again

- good lord this is a long ass intro

- ahhhh the did a shorter version for the show, I see

- did little Catherine just steal that necklace, girl wtf

- I miss my Daniel :(

- I miss my O'Neill :(

- yeesh, didn't realize how soon after his son's death this took place

- wow that was the worst sneeze I've ever heard in my life

- he's so tiny oh my god

- LUCIUS??? NO, GET OUTTA HERE, SHOO

- bro the sound mixing is killing me, Daniel is so fucking soft spoken compared to not only everyone else but the damn chalk he's drawing with

- he sounds horrifyingly identical to show Daniel

- "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill", NUH UH

- pfffft, just yoinks his paper

- I can't look at Daniel in this outfit without immediately thinking of Anakin

- Daniel why would you draw on the screen

- I wonder why Catherine had an accent in the movie but not the show

- I'm currently unable to remember how this fits with the reveal of Earnest in that one episode

- ooooo the stargate is so much more water like here, it's even reflective

- Kaliam galaxy? That makes no sense, until the Ancient database episode, we're told it's impossible to dial outside of our galaxy without a serious amount of power like a ZPM aren't we? That's the whole reason Jack had to build that device in the ancient database episode and why they couldn't dial Atlantis again.

- she gave him the stolen necklace, how touching (sarcasm)

- does the stargate look bigger here or am I remembering wrong

- I'm so glad we got the Jack O'Neill we did, oof

- wtf is up with that stargate depiction

- why are they frosty and damp

- "that's a nice tent. Oh, we each get a rent, nice." Ah Daniel

- Ferretti, you such, and so do the rest of your buddies. The way he made fun of Jackson and threw the case at him only to then look back at his buddies for approval like the spineless jackass he is

- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

- NO SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THAT THING

- WHY HAVE WE NOT EVER SEEN THAT IN THE SHOW, WHERE WAS OUR WEIRD ALIEN FAUNA STUFF HUH???

- the captions spelled Jack's last name wrong *tsk tsk*

- of course Daniel gets dragged away by the weird alien thing

- oh shit it's the same Skaara!

- everyone being in neat lines is weirding me out

- oh boy, hate everyone kneeling for him, that's uncomfy

- ok wtf is that scanner thing cuz we sure as hell never see that again

- these creatures are clearly very prevalent in their society, it sucks so much we never see them in the show!!!

- and the same guy who plays Sha'uri's father!

- and we never see this much of their architecture again either! We only see tents as far as I can remember but they had this whole impressive city!!!

- I don't really understand why they would set up basecamp out in the open instead of inside the pyramid

- OOF that is a big ass storm

- another creature we never see again!!!!

- pffft there goes Daniel being taken again

- bro is being HANDLED

- oh dear

- oh man she looks like she's gonna cry, poor girl being offered up like that

- uh oh

- I have to say, the ship looks fucking AMAZING, respect given how old this movie is

- WOAH, THAT MASK IS SICK

- bitch the jack o'neill I know and love would NEVER, EVER give a child a cigarette and he would never teach him to smoke it either!!!

- OOOF, the gun reaction, ouch

- aw man them learning to communicate in the cave is so cute help

- hot damn this sarcophagus is like a blion times cooler wtf

- hang on a sec, wtf was the alien depicted in the walls, it looks like a freaky Asgard

- PFFFFT, not the band of kids following them back XD

- DUDE WHY ARE THE MAAKS SO MUCH COOLER

- the staff blasts and effects are ROUGH

- has Daniel literally ever fired a gun in his life at this point?

- also, why're there Horus and Jackall guards here?

- uhhhh, do the ships ever open again? I don't remember that happening

- the throne room is much more throne roomy in the movie than the show

- uhhhhh why are all his servants children

- oh wow that mask removal cgi is rough

- aaaaand Ra also looks like a child for some reason

- WHY ARE ALL THE SERVANTS NOT ONLY CHILDREN, BUT PRETTY MUCH NAKED

- does Daniel die here and get revied in the sarcophagus? He does that a lot so I'm not sure

- ah yeah, sarcophagus

- I'm so uncomfortable rn

- LET'S GO SHA'URI AND SKAARA

- the Jaffa don't seem to have symbiote pouches

- Daniel that wasn't really an explicit invitation

- "cover me!" "cover you?!?!?!"

- Sha'uri dies and comes back too?? Man what a couple

- PFFFFT that ring transporter effect

- it really sucks that he saves her only for her to become possessed by a Goa'uld for the rest of her life

- doesn't make much sense for them to be wearing the big ass helmets while in the death gliders

- what the hell is up with his face glowing and the alien face being beneath his???? Huh???? Did they just like, change their mind about what the Goa'uld were once they started making the show?? But why would the one Jaffa that was left at the SGC have a symbiote pouch??? I'm so confused

- ok well at least she seems to like him back but still

Pretty good movie overall, but I don't think I ever wanna watch it again cuz the kids thing is hella fucking weird, but I understand the show a lot more now! Except for the parts that make no sense because they made hella lore changes between this and the show.

#stargate #stargate movie #stargate 1994 #daniel jackson #jack o'neill #autistic-crypt1d #autistic-crypt1d live blogs

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crabsnpersimmons · 10 months ago

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Hey Crabs! I have a small question! 🦀

How do you make the pictures of your traditional art look so good!?

They are always bright and easy to see! But when I take a photo of my drawings, they always have a blue or yellow tint to them. So how do you make it look the way you do?

(Also, I want to gobble up your art it is so yummy and pretty! Sun and Moon are so precious in your style!) ❤️

Thanks! And I hope you’re having a good day! :D

no prob! there's actually a couple things i do, so here's the tl;dr:

Lighting: i use daylight or light from a neutral white lightbulb

Editing: i use my phone's built-in gallery app to lightly edit the colours so they're clear and as colour-accurate as i can get (from my screens at least)

and i'll go into a little more detail with some examples under the cut

1. Lighting

a habit of mine that i got from my IG days (ugh...) is using daylight whenever possible. daylight just lights up the whole area more evenly and relatively neutrally. this is my set up:

glamourous

basically, i put the artwork near a source of natural light and prop up a reflector (in this case, a blank page from another sketchbook) that helps distribute the light more evenly across the page, so that even the side that is furthest from the light gets some light that bounces off from the reflector. i don't always have a reflector tho, like if i'm only taking a picture of a small drawing and not an entire page, there's no need.

now, if it's dark, then i rely on my desk lamp, which uses a neutral white lightbulb. regular lightbulbs come in different temperatures, from warm to neutral to cool—so that might explain why your photos are coming out with a yellow or blue tint. warm lights are common in houses because they're cozy, while blue lights are common in working areas because, like daylight, they keep us more awake. neutral white is in between the two.

here's an example of my Moon doodle that i did recently under different lights: warm (from my bedside lamp), neutral white (from my work desk), and daylight (i don't have any cooler lights in the house, so i couldn't quite get the blue tint 😅)

now technically, NONE of these are colour accurate. so i always follow up with some light photo editing

2. Editing

now, i have 2 personal rules when it comes to editing my photos:

1) try to make it as close to the original as possible; and 2) don't spend too long on it

these are just my personal rules because... one) i'm lazy and i don't want to spend too long fixing every thing in my drawings, and two) i feel it is dishonest for me to make dramatic changes to my traditional art and still call it traditional art. whenever i do make digital enhancements (like colouring it digitally) i will tag it so no one would mistake it as purely traditional art. that's just me tho! there are no rules when you're having fun with your art and mixed media art is a thing! so do whatever you find fun and enjoyable.

also, i will try to make it as colour-accurate as possible, but i also recognize that not everyone's screens are calibrated the same way. my phone is set to a "Natural" colour setting, but on my new laptop (which i haven't figured out how to calibrate yet) is vibrant as all heck (like oh my gosh, maybe i need to start tagging everything with bright colours now, because what if someone else's laptop is this insanely vibrant and saturated??) but either way, i try not to spend too long on it because i know i won't be able to accommodate every screen.

anyways, for what i actually DO... i kinda just play around with different settings. if i took the picture under daylight, then there's not too much i adjust, usually it's the warm colours that are desaturated, so i try to make the reds pop more without effecting the blues too much.

or for my doodles, sometimes the doodle on the other side of the page is slightly visible, i'll tweak the lights and shadows and contrast levels until the background is clear enough (as long as it doesn't disturb the doodle i'm taking a photo of)

now, if your photos are coming out too yellow or blue because of your lighting, you can adjust that by tweaking the Temperature setting. here's an example of that warm Moon doodle:

already looking a little better, right? so don't worry if your photos aren't coming out accurate, there are work arounds!

here's the before and after of the Moon doodle by the way:

despite having daylight, i still needed to adjust the colours. specifically i needed to brighten up the reds and yellows, and bring back the page's natural yellowness. i also tweaked the Definition setting to make less hazy (sometimes i like the haziness tho, so i'll leave it as is sometimes).

and one other reminder: it doesn't need to be perfect, it just needs to be. a big reason why i keep coming back to traditional art is the fact that i can't control everything. i can't undo lines. i can't move things around. and i can't take the perfect picture. but it doesn't need to be perfect. drawing and sharing my art is supposed to be fun! and i don't want to put any barriers around that, or else it becomes unnecessarily stressful.

all that is to say, try out these tips if you want to, but don't treat them as hard rules and don't focus on trying to achieve perfection. just go have fun!

#ask the crab #sorry this took so long!#i wanted to make sure it was clear #cuz like #i totally understand the struggle of trying to take good pictures of your traditional art #like you worked so hard on a drawing #but then the photo ruins it 😅#so i wanted to share what i know so it might help #there are definitely more in-depth tutorials out there #this is just what i've gathered from some of them plus some advice from a food photographer friend of mine (her stuff is actually legit tho

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send-me-a-puffalope · 8 months ago

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Do you have a specific process for your artworks? You are a big inspiration to me and I love all of the amazing Vanessa stuff you draw :]

UHHHH OKAY OKAY i'll try my best to explain but honestly I am still halfway winging digital art LMFAOOO

I'm not a big sketcher, I much prefer the actual rendering part of art as opposed to the initial developing of the sketch LMFAOO so I usually get a sketch out of the way pretty quickly. I'm pretty confident with my ability to just loosely eyeball a ref and get it on paper so I don't do very strict shape guidelines, i just do a loose shape for the ribcage and kinda wing it from there (I'm starting to think I'm not the best person to get advice from HAHASDI) but art is gonna be easier and harder at parts for every person, don't get caught up in trying to get things exactly perfect or having a specific style.

I fill the background with a light/mid grey, both to help with eyestrain and to bring some colder (or warmer if youre working with a cool color palette) tones in. With my rendering style, I pretty much never have my brush at full opacity -- if you take a look at some of my Vanessa art, you can tell I let that cooler tone bleed through the skintone in the forehead, chin area, and hands.

I recommend having a reference always, even if its not a pose reference or a real life photo. Just having an artist you like's art up on the screen helps you kinda find a starting point when starting to render. Identify what you like about their art style and don't be afraid to copy what they do! Good luck anon!

#ask!!!#anon

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esoteric-space · 1 month ago

Text

The Loveland Pit Stop

The night of Christmas Eve had worn thin enough to see Christmas morning threatening on the horizon when I spotted the Loveland Pit Stop sign floating in the dark. The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed with a peculiar frequency, a sound somewhere between electricity and insect wings. It was an unusual stop on a routine trip. The coffee from three states ago had worn off, leaving behind a metallic taste and a tremor in my hands. I looked around at the parking lot full of cars as I pumped gas into my car.

In the fogged windows of the convenience store, Christmas lights hung unevenly across the dusty frames, their strands drooping where the tape had surrendered to gravity. A few bulbs flickered reluctantly, their dull hues lingering just a moment too long before fading, while others stayed stubbornly dark, leaving gaps in the rhythm. The fog on the glass softened the glow into muted pastels, blending reds, greens, and blues into a lethargic kaleidoscope, as if the lights themselves bore the weight of the empty hours.

Mom's kitchen light would be on, even this early. She’d wake up before dawn to bake, the smell of sugar and cinnamon curling through the house like a warm embrace, spilling out into the frosty air when she opened the door to greet me. It was a ritual as constant as the seasons, her way of holding onto something in a world that kept changing.

The pump clicked at $14.08. The automatic doors parted with a whisper.

Inside, the fluorescent lights took on a pallid hue, casting a stark glare over the scuffed grey linoleum floor, amplifying the wear on every surface. The store's air was thick, almost syrupy with the artificial pine scent of holiday air fresheners mixed with something older and sweeter, like decades of coffee spilled in places no one had looked. Shelves line the narrow aisles, their contents arranged in a haphazard attempt at abundance: bags of chips with crinkled, faded packaging lean against each other, off-brand candies sit under a faint sheen of dust, and energy drinks in mismatched rows add a pop of color to the otherwise muted display. A whirring cooler hums faintly from the back, where pre-made sandwiches and cartons of milk crowd under a dim light that flickers intermittently.

I grabbed a basket, its metal edges cold and rough, and moved through the aisles to begin my routine: powdered donuts that Mom pretends to hate but always snags from my bag, a bottle of Advil to stave off the headache crawling steadily behind my eyes, and coffee to fill the hollow ache left by hours of highway monotony. My footsteps echoed oddly, the sound arriving a fraction too late as I moved through the store grabbing the items.

As I reached for the coffee station at the back, a row of cheap Santa plush toys loomed on a nearby shelf, their beady plastic eyes locked on me as I stood in front of the coffee machine. The digital display didn’t greet me with the usual cheerful prompts for dark roast or decaf but instead cycled through an erratic cascade of random numbers, each flickering with unsettling speed. I tapped the screen once, then again, harder, but it didn’t respond, the numbers continuing their frantic, nonsensical dance. A faint hum came from the machine, a sound that seemed to rise and fall in uneven waves, as if the display itself were breathing.

Turning toward the counter to look for help, I paused as I noticed that the cash register sat unattended. I slowly walked to the front, the air near the register felt heavier, cooler somehow. I froze, my fingers curling tighter around the handle of the basket until the metal bit into my skin. My breath caught in my throat, the faintest puff of it visible in the suddenly cool air. The chair’s slow, almost deliberate sway pulled my gaze, each creak of its movement stretching the silence into something alive. The radio sputtered, a warped voice crooning half a line of a carol before dissolving into static that sounded like someone trying to whisper in my ear. The chair behind it, slightly askew, swayed just barely as if someone had vacated it a moment too soon.

My eyes drifted to the counter, where an abandoned name tag glimmered faintly under the flickering fluorescent lights. The letters blurred and twisted, rearranging themselves into shapes that looked familiar but meant nothing, like the remnants of a dream slipping through my fingers. My pulse thudded in my ears, louder than the soft hum of the cooler or the faint ticking of the coffee machine behind me. I took a step back, my sneakers catching on the sticky floor, the sound echoing loudly in the empty store.

"Hello?" My voice fell flat, absorbed by the dense, peppermint-saturated air, leaving behind an unnatural stillness that prickled at the edges of my senses. No hum of the cooler or the faint ticking of the coffee machine.

From somewhere in the back came a faint, unsettling sound—a dry, deliberate scrape, like paper being torn one agonizing fiber at a time. The coffee machine sputtered and gurgled, breaking the silence in uneven, wet gasps. My eyes darted toward its polished stainless-steel surface, catching the faint shimmer of my reflection. It was there, but wrong. Its head tilted slightly, almost curiously, dark eyes narrowing with a piercing intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The stare was unyielding, searching, as though it were peeling back layers I didn’t even know were there. Then, it smiled.

My chest tightened, and my breath hitched as I stumbled back, the basket slipping from my trembling hands. Powdered donuts rolled across the linoleum, leaving trails of sugar-white dust that seemed stark against the dingy floor. The reflection didn’t flinch as I did. It stopped smiling, leaning closer to the polished metal surface, its hand raising slowly as though reaching for me. My own hand twitched in response, drawn by an inexplicable pull toward the gesture.

Behind the reflection, something shifted. Other faces began to appear—versions of me, emerging one after the other, their features faint and fragmented, like sketches left unfinished. Their presence was a ripple, each one more translucent, more fractured than the last.

"Hello?" I said again, my voice thin and wavering. The word felt hollow, swallowed by the thick air pressing in around me.

The reflection’s lips moved silently, mouthing words I couldn’t hear. My heart hammered as I instinctively stepped closer, the movement automatic, detached from any conscious choice. It leaned in, its hand sliding down the coffee machine’s surface, leaving streaks in the condensation like tears trailing down glass.

Then its head snapped up, the motion sudden and sharp, locking its gaze onto mine. The air seemed to collapse, crushing and heavy, as the faces behind it stirred. One by one, they pressed their hands against the invisible walls of their prisons, their eyes wide with recognition—and terror. Their mouths opened, straining in silent screams that I couldn’t hear but could feel, reverberating like static deep in my chest. I wanted to scream too, to break the suffocating silence, but my voice stayed buried, trapped beneath the weight of a truth I couldn’t name.

I turned and ran toward the exit, but the automatic doors didn’t budge. Their glass panes remained sealed, fogging over as though something outside was breathing heavily against them. Panic surged as I banged against the doors, the dull thud of my fists swallowed by the dense air. I grabbed a magazine rack and swung it against the glass, desperation driving my arms. The rack clattered to the floor, its metal legs bending uselessly, but the doors didn’t even crack.

Gasping, I turned back to the coffee machine, my heart pounding in my ears. Its surface reflected only the dimly lit store now, empty and still, as if nothing had ever been wrong. But the silence wasn’t clean; it carried an edge, a tension strung tight like an invisible wire.

The radio crackled suddenly, the static from earlier flipping through fractured bursts of sound. Voices rose and fell, overlapping incoherently until they steadied, just for a moment. A smooth, familiar voice emerged mid-line, carrying a haunting resonance that prickled along my spine.

“You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

In that moment, the store stretched around me, aisles elongating into infinite corridors of fluorescent-lit limbo. My reflection watched with patient understanding as reality peeled away like old wallpaper, revealing the void beneath. The last thing I saw before the world inverted was my own face, watching from behind the glass, eyes filled with a horror I would soon learn to understand.

Then I was nothing. Not darkness - darkness requires eyes to perceive it. Not silence - silence needs ears to notice its weight. I became an absence, a space between thoughts in a mind that no longer existed. Perhaps I floated there for eons, or for the length of a single heartbeat. Perhaps I had always been there, would always be there, in that infinite moment between being and becoming. Time has no meaning here. Until it does.

—

Reality flickered back like a fluorescent bulb catching current, starting with the soft whisper of automatic doors. And suddenly there I was, watching myself walk in with tired eyes and trembling hands, moving with hesitation. Christmas lights hung in the same uneven pattern, their strands drooping where tape had surrendered to gravity. The same burnt out bulbs. The fog on the windows softened their glow into the same muted pastels I remembered. The magazine rack I'd hurled at the glass lay undisturbed in its place, metal legs unbent, covers glossy under the fluorescent lights. The windows showed no sign of my desperate attempts to break them. It was as if none of it had happened.

Or perhaps it hadn't happened yet…

I looked toward the counter where I’d seen the abandoned name tag, the swaying chair. There had never been anyone there, I realized now—not tonight. Not any night. I watched myself scan the empty store, remembering how wrong everything felt in that first moment. My hands pressed against the cold surface of the coffee machine, desperate to warn, to prevent what was coming. But like all the others trapped here, I could only follow the script written in time itself. Powdered donuts, Advil, coffee.

I tilted my head, intrigued by the figure approaching, the way her movements carried the weight of something unresolved. I’d seen myself countless times in reflections, but this was different. It was me—my face, my body—alive and moving, untethered from the glass. A rush of fascination gripped me, a strange, giddy curiosity at seeing myself from this side. My breath caught as our eyes met, and for a moment, I simply stared, taking in the contours of a face I knew so intimately yet had never truly seen. I couldn’t help it—I smiled, a quiet, absurd acknowledgment of the moment. The ridiculousness of seeing myself, real and tangible, yet out of reach, tugged at the corners of my mouth like a private joke only I could understand.

The basket slipped, powdered donuts rolling across the linoleum, leaving trails of dust. I pressed closer to my side of the surface, my palm trailing against the cold, smooth barrier as I leaned in.

I watched as I took an involuntary step forward, my movement mirroring mine, both of us caught in the same gravitational pull I remembered all too well. Desperation tingled at the edges of my thoughts—I wanted to warn myself, to break through the glass with something louder than my helpless smile. But the absurdity of it lingered, that same hollow truth whispering that I’d already tried—and failed—before.

A whispered "Hello?" vibrated through the metal between us. I tried to speak, to warn, but my words dissolved into nothingness. When I dragged my fingers across the surface, they left trails in the condensation—proof that I existed here, in this impossible space behind the glass, where warm breath could still meet cold metal. I looked at how the droplets floated against an invisible barrier from my new perspective. Then I looked up sharply, meeting eyes that still held questions I now knew the answers to.

Behind me, countless versions of myself pressed against the boundaries of their reflections; their presence hummed like static electricity against my skin. Their horror, fascination, and acceptance rippled through me like emotions I had already felt or was yet to feel. The air grew thick as reality folded around me. The fluorescent lights above flickered in a rhythm that felt like language, shadows bending and twisting against the edges of the store. Soon, I would join the reflections again, another fragment in the endless choreography of fractured time.

I wondered if anything truly existed beyond these doors anymore. If somewhere, beyond this pocket of frozen time, Mom's kitchen light actually burned—its warm glow cutting through the predawn darkness like it always had, like it always should. If she was still waiting, moving between window and oven in an eternal rhythm, for a Christmas morning that would never quite reach dawn. If any morning still existed at all.

#horror #psychological horror #magical realism #dark fantasy #liminal spaces #supernatural #short story #christmas #holidays

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