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1-49 · 2 months

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third times’s a charm

pairing: f!reader × chanyoung, sungchan ⁝ tags: rain. tokyo. & love at first sight / fluff. gets lil angsty. wc. 3.1k

note: this has been in my drafts ever since those two pictures dropped, & basically, this whole thing is just an extension of what sorta of mood they inspired. ik it’s kind of late but i love the atmosphere, so im posting it anyway.

All this waiting ─── Holding out for the storm to pass. Stuck in traffic and waiting. Waiting for the bus at a crowded bus stop.

Since the idiotic weather app on your phone was unable to foresee such a severe downpour, you are without an umbrella. You find yourself standing like a cat caught in the rain after spending a perfect sunny afternoon exploring Tokyo’s streets.

Neither the metro nor the two buses that have come & gone are going in your direction. More room and privacy for yourself as the majority of passengers board the buses and lessen the crowded, small, glassed station—for which you are grateful. After trying your luck twice, you are stuck waiting for the third bus.

The peculiar scent of rain on asphalt fills your nostrils as you accept your bad luck & attempt to take solace in the rain, the foggy lights of the passing traffic & the bright neon signs that give the city its unique flavor. There are a variety of sounds in the street, ranging from soft and loud to melodic and even disorienting.

You seem like such a loser out in the rain. The end effect of running so fast and not caring where you step is clumps of hair and muddy shoes, followed by ten minutes of waiting. You are glad you didn’t wear too much makeup for today’s walk because you’d have looked like a total wreck. Smugly, you try to adjust your mascara and eyeshadow in your little mirror and pretend it’s fine.

And so, you concentrate on the raindrops as they land in a specific dip in the pavement, creating tiny air bubbles that rise to the surface like bubbles in a champagne glass. This little world seems to be what fascinates you about Tokyo at the moment, despite its vast size.

That is when the two giants casually stroll into the safe haven you have found in all the fast life.

The two towering frames jostle one another in this terrifying performance that the sky is putting on, laughing at something so ridiculous that you have to wonder how they can do it. The evening sky is practically ripping at its seams, but they do not seem to notice.

Their laughter is contagious as they battle for space under a transparent umbrella that the taller one is holding. Their bodies are too broad for the protective gear, and they seem to lose simultaneously because most of their opposing shoulders and arms are soaked. For the tiny spaciousness they seek but don’t find, the pair comes across as endearing and humorous. You realize there is beauty in the fact that neither of them seems to mind. They remain upbeat and truly unaffected, which is inspiring.

That they are close friends is highly likely. They are even dressed alike. One is wearing green cargo pants and the other over-dye jeans, both with black upper apparel.

They could be mistaken for twins due to their dangerous synchronicity. Not like born together. Not fused like the two sides of an oyster encasing a precious pearl. However, exactly opposites, much like the two sides of a mirror. Equally stunning, and in their case, the pearl is their friendship.

The sounds of the city fade, and you feel every nook and cranny in your body thudding as you witness them make the spontaneous decision to wait for a bus.

The ‘polar twins’ resemblance they give off is unfair.

While the cargo boy’s carefree demeanor gives hours of silly photos and odd Tik Toks, funny videos, and Twitter drama, the headphones hanging around his neck pay close and serious attention to music, which you thoroughly appreciate. This particular aspect of him almost instantly makes you fall in love.

But the taller boy doesn’t fall behind either;

he closes the umbrella as soon as he enters the glassed area. His hand clasped around his brown cashmere cardigan radiates warmth and comfort, and his strikingly bare collarbones radiate needs and dreams. His contradictory aura clouds your judgment and prevents you from making further assumptions about his interests in basketball, games, and literature.

The tip of the umberlla accidentally bumps into your arm when he closes it, revealing his slight clumsiness.

His regret is evident in his eyebrows even before he says, “Sorry.” His eyes widen with it. Lovely and compassionate, with a hint of mocha. Like there is freshly brewed coffee swirling around inside his crystals.

Sparks shimmer up your arms as you watch and listen to his apology and say that it’s nothing.

The music boy’s position is to your left, as the ‘clumsy’ guy shifts to your right, which he does not realize until he apologizes.

With obvious happiness, the music boy inserts himself and begins to tease him. “He acts that way all the time, so don’t worry. If his good looks don’t work to get him noticed, he will try playing on his clumsiness.”

You can be sure that the ‘clumsy’ guy is pouting and sulking over the nonsense that was just said, even though your eyes are finally turning to the person who is seeking them.

There is an eternal smile on the face of the goofier of the two. One of those smiles that can break through the clouds and stop the rain. A ray of light, really. He breaks through the barriers of your heart with his quiet voice too. The fact that he can capture your heart with such ease and beauty is just a crime.

They may have looked the same in one frame, but now that they are essentially standing on either side of you, they are starting to show more of their charm. It gets harder to be between two extremely attractive giants as their individuality starts to emerge.

You have a sneaking suspicion that the boy you are looking at is the younger one.

And while the bright colors of the city match his mischievousness, his confidence has a short fuse. This becomes apparent when he stops coming up with new jokes for his friend and stays staring at you for longer than fifty seconds.

Before you know what the two of you are doing, his smile spreads across your face like sunlight does on tulips in the early spring. It’s an inadvertent eye lock until he realizes it’s too much. It really melts your heart to discover that he is a shyer one, and you end up melting right into the rain puddle that is at your feet.

You then take up your previous posture, facing forward. For a brief while, they distracted you from the fact that you were waiting for a bus to the hotel. As you take a big swallow, there is an odd quietness among the three of you.

You cannot help but wish that some of them would speak up and say something. Why you want this to go on is beyond you, but you want it to. Their bodies radiate a warmth that suffocates you while simultaneously providing warmth against the chilly autumn breeze. This brings you back to the point where you’re mentally cursing your app for tricking you because you were totally unprepared for today’s outing.

‘Soft eyes’, as in literally, hands you the sweather he was holding as soon as he notices that you’re shivering.

It pains you to try to turn down his offer, but you do.

Still, he refuses to accept it. “You can give it back as soon as one of our buses arrives. Keep it till then.” Ignoring your protests, he carefully places the soft wool in your hands. You have no choice but to comply with his insistence. “Besides, I don’t need it.”

You raise your gaze to him and once more meet his eyes—this time with a smile added.

You remember that when he bumped into you, he was trying to hide a smile so that he could apologize more sincerely, which means you haven’t been a witness to his smile just yet.

However, his smile has the same profound effect on you as the guy on the other side. You are sure the sun is in his heart too, just as much as it’s in his eyes. His kindness is his beauty. Very soft; almost as soft as a ball of cashmere, or similar to his cardigan’s overly long sleeves as you play with them.

Given their earlier recklessness, you would never have trusted two random boys to be this kind. So gracious as to lay you two of their favorite accessories in your possession.

One is keeping you warm, and the other, after being prodded to share the song he has been working on, is putting his headphones on you and letting his joy seep through your ears to your bones.

Feeling a little more shy, his breath hits your face, tense and warm as he’s inside. He is pulsing with understanding so as not to invade your personal space while practically failing. As if you couldn’t have done it yourself, he decides to put his headphones on you abruptly. A current is all that is moving him, and not a single conscious brain cell is applying any kind of brake.

The color hits his cheeks when your gaze meets halfway again. He’s being cheeky, though, when he asks, “Are you ready?” while towering over you.

He presses play on the song he composed after you nod with equal enthusiasm.

With the ‘soft guy’ on the right, you’re a little more confident, but when it comes to the ‘shy boy’ in front, you are a complete mess. The prospect that he’s equally as wreaked as you are is the primary cause of your emotions. They are deeply affecting you both, and even though you would prefer to hide in the next bush, you are pursuing each other naively and playfully.

Your smiles are getting bigger as you gaze at one another, but his is weaker, more fragile, as in ‘until the piece I composed gets your pass, I am afraid.’

You close your eyes because you don’t have enough in you to match that.

The outside world ceases to matter as the ambient composition intensifies and begins to resolve inside you.

You explode at the slightest touch from a ‘soft boy’ who leans in close and tries to listen through your headphones.

Since he also expressed dissatisfaction over never having heard the music, you try to be understanding and let him into your space too. He was unable to listen to it earlier due to the ‘it is not completed’ statements. This was his chance. And so, you acknowledge that this evening, everything came together to allow the two of you to feel the excitement of being the first to hear something so exquisite.

The storm itself, you can swear, ceased.

Though the sound of life is muffled by the composition in your eardrums, you can somewhat hear three heartbeats pounding in time with the music. It feels as though nothing matters and yet everything has led up to this.

‘Music boy’ watches your reactions as both of you remain silent, neither of you speaking to disturb the bliss.

This rescue is slow-moving and pleasant compared to Tokyo’s fast life. You find a brief moment of inner tranquility after so much running, fury at the weather, and anger towards the electronic device in your back pocket.

Entirely, you lose yourself in the song, and the way your lashes curl to soften the likely pictures that appear beneath your lids is proof of this. It seems that even in Tokyo, things can come to a stop.

Like a drop of rain in the countryside, your smile is sincere and pure. That is what he has composed, and that is what this is. He has awakened that within you.

Clarity and translucence—opposing to the densely scented city air, which is heavy with the smell of burned street meat and motor oil.

As distinct as the boys standing next to you, everything has a raw beauty.

When you turn to face the taller one, you find that your noses are almost in contact because of how close the headphones have brought his face to yours.

His most beautiful features are dripping with admiration as he gives you the thumbs up. Although you find the signal confusing, you nod because you think it is abrupt and cute.

Upon turning to face the musical prodigy as you currently perceive him—you having no prior knowledge of him—he grins more than ever.

With great anticipation, he asks, “And!?”

“I wish I had a better word to describe it, but it is rather majestic. The melody is lovely and seems to pour love and tranquility indefinitely. It made me feel better. Basically, thank you, is all I have to say.”

“It truly did the same for me,” remarks the tall guy, nodding. “You know, he never lets us listen to his music,” he adds, moving in closer to give the younger person a sweet shoulder shake. “This guy!!”

They both laugh it off, just like they did when they walked in beside you. They are unaware that, with those smiles, they have taken everything from you. However, as soon as you peek at the bus in the distance, read aloud your hotel’s street address, and confirm that it is your route, their smiles become lifeless and hollow almost instantly. In the same instant, the hope that they both brought about vanishes. There is a bittersweet sensation.

Even though you all know the end is near, it seems like no one anticipated it.

All of it comes crashing down: the rain, the hope, the magic, and all three of your desperate sets of eyes that cannot stop staring into each other’s faces. Each microsecond, millisecond, and second matters. Everything was brief at first, then prolonged, and finally just brief again.

“It’s time to return this,” you utter as you remove the cardigan.

Given how chilly the owner’s hands are once you skin-brush them, the wool should feel even warmer in his hands after you return it.

“You must have frozen because of me,” you point out, brows knitted in concern. “I am so sor—”

“No, I am fine, don’t apologize,” he cuts in, unlocking the umbrella as he comes to his senses and accepts the arrival of reality. To protect you from the rain until you board the bus, he says, “Here,” giving you room to move under the umbrella.

Initially, you pout, believing that rejecting him would be best, but eventually, you stop yourself and follow his instructions exactly. It’s time to savor every moment, even if it’s just spending a little time together under an umbrella, before you part ways with them and never see them again.

You remove your headphones and give them back to the cutest prodigy you have ever met. “You should start having more faith in the things you create. That was really beautiful.”

“Thank you!!” The umbrella boy exclaims in his name. “Someone at last to make him begin to realize.”

The younger boy defends himself, smiling, “Shut up.” And, even though he’s well aware that the umbrella was never meant to fit both of them, much less three people, he’s still attempting to squeeze himself under it.

You guys are all biting smiles; there is such innocence and purity to the compressed situation all of you are in. This feeling is far more intense than what you experienced as a teenager witnessing your crash in the hallways. Greater than the scorching feeling you experienced on your first kiss. Which, on the other hand, makes this even more heartbreaking than the first time your heart broke. There is something odd about it all, and it has been a long day at that.

You stay sandwiched between their bodies, which rise on both sides of you as sturdy as a brick wall. You regretfully realize that you cannot be imprisoned between them forever, even though for a brief moment you wish you could.

You can sense the peculiar chemistry has subdued the storm, and it even appears to be stopping the rain. And as it draws near the bus stop, the bus finally lets out its sharp, piercing ‘pissss’ sound. You’re thinking somewhere in the back of your mind about how this sound is going to become your least favorite sound. The noise that will always bother you the most because it’s ruining something so beautiful.

When you look into their faces, all you see is gold dust smeared in their eyes. “I’m glad our paths crossed,” you eventually admit.

They return with the same admiration, though with a sorrowful smile.

They wait until after you get on the bus. They wait for you to get comfortable, knowing that you will take their side and catch your farewell look out the window.

That is precisely what you do; you approach the first seat with that same thought in mind. Rain cascades down the glass, and the windows are a little foggy and difficult to see through due to the warmth inside.

Inside and around your heart, there is a heavy, funny feeling. You make an effort to clear the fog from the window but the moment feels so so hopeless as the bus starts to move. In actuality, all you’re doing is wiping the mist as you attempt to wave goodbye and get a good look at them for the last time. Still, it’s too late.

All that is left to do is gaze for a brief while at the vanishing landscape, registering absolutely nothing.

Finally, you tilt your head back and sigh at the biggest sigh ever. There is a distant echo of a Japanese woman’s voice coming from the bus radio. When you turn on your phone, the first thing you see is your camera folder.

It’s inexplicable why you thought it was necessary to take a picture of them with your phone while simultaneously taking one with theirs. You are left puzzled, staring at the most recent two pictures in your folder.

‘Love is a captured moment,’ you used to say. You get the impression that life is making fun of you.

It becomes really annoying to swipe between the two photos. Their boyfriend vibe is unmatched. Imagination takes over. It seems as though you have never desired anything more.

You carefully touch the screen to enlarge the images, capturing their faces with your fingertips. The attractive strangers in the photos are names you will never know.

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chuthulhu-reads · 10 months

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[ID: Five panels from Trigun Maximum. The background and borders are solid black instead of solid white. Before the first panel are speech bubbles saying, "Mama. Mama, look!" The second panel shows a small child pointing as his mother, a pretty woman with a kind smile, crouches next to him. In the second panel, the mother looks down at the child and says, "She's pretty, isn't she?" The little boy, still staring up, asks, "Why..." In the third panel, he looks up at his mother and continues, "...Is she in there?" In the fourth panel, the mother puts her hands on the kid's shoulders and looks up as she says, "She's... working." In the fifth panel, the mother smiles back down at her son as she says, "It's thanks to her that you, mama and papa can live here safely." The little boy looks confused. End ID.]

I WEEP over this flashback. They're introducing the plant to their child not as something weird or alien, but pretty. Not as a thing, but a person who's working, who's not just property of the community but a crucial member of it. In the next panels, the mother prompts her child to thank the plant in a way that looks both like a hyper-respectful Japanese bow and Christian prayer.

[ID: Three panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows the little boy pointing up with a big smile. Behind him, his mother is looking back over her shoulder at her husband, a smiling man in glasses. The little boy is saying, "Mama, look! She smiled!" The second panel shows the little boy still looking up and smiling as, behind him, his parents talk and laugh together. In the third panel, the boy is turning away and looking at his parents, saying, "See?" as the father smiles and waves and the mother looks surprised. After the last panel, there's black space, and a last speech bubble saying, "She smiled..." End ID.]

She smiled. She smiled at a child smiling at her. She smiled at a child who was alive because of her. She smiled at the people who loved her and prayed to her and thanked her. She treasured them enough to remember their smiles even after being fused into the horrendous amalgamation in the Ark.

[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows Knives looking startled, wide-eyed and sweating, the left side of his face flaking somewhat. The second panel shows him standing on a walkway over a huge mass of fused plants, an uncomfortably fleshy mess of wings, veins, and random limbs. Knives is saying, "Was that..."]

LOOK at that. Knives himself knows he's at risk of losing his sense of self inside that mass, and Chronica later says that plants don't innately have an individual sense of self to begin with. Yet one of those plants remembered some of the humans she once supported fondly enough to cling to that memory, no matter what; or, perhaps, that memory was so beloved by every other plant that saw it that they all kept it, all shared it and held it close to their hearts, all that love battering against Knives' shaky mental walls of rage and hatred and fear.

[ID: A chaotic double-page spread from Trigun Maximum. The first four panels show a quick sequence of Knives falling to his knees and gasping as he clutches at his face, his eyes widening desperately. The next three panels are thin slices, each showing a larger and larger number of random people, like you're pulling out from a crowd that just keeps getting bigger. Despite how many people are crammed into each panel, artistic effort has been put into making each face unique and distinct from each other. The next face shows Knives' face literally cracking and splitting into a number of panels showing the Project Seeds ships, stars in space, the shooting-star image of the ships falling, a sun rising over ruined ships, and the elongated arms of a plant reaching out from among folded wings. A panel at the bottom of the page shows Knives screaming as it looks like the flesh is actually melting off of his face. The last panel shows Elendira running towards him, crying out, "Knives!" End ID.]

I really think, at the end of the day, the plants don't necessarily mind being relied on as producers, because I think they love life and creation. They've held onto all of these faces, all these people who were alive because of them. Short of the horror of the Last Runs, maybe they take pride in what they do. Maybe seeing other lives flourish from theirs makes them happy. We don't know for sure, but for all the body horror in their imagery, they are still, ultimately, evocative of angels. And they're reaching out to Knives with enough love for humanity to fracture the walls in his mind that he's put up against the reality of what the Big Fall was, against remembering that he did once love humans, and then he killed tens of millions of them. Being forced to see humans as Vash and the other plants do--as individuals, as living things, as people--is literally tearing him apart. God this page is a real artistic flex from Nightow, both in terms of panel composition and just thumbing his nose at mangaka that draw the same three faces forever

#Trigun #I love the plants so much #I think we can infer a lot by assuming that Vash (and Knives as a child) is pretty normal for a plant #Loving being around other living things #Loving helping other living things #Like yeah now Vash has a massive guilt complex #But he was always a kind kid #and Knives as a kid was LONGING to meet other people #My autistic ass feeling the longing to just be weird and do your own thing #but being extra happy when you can Do Thing for others that they appreciate #They're such eldritch sweethearts I love them so much

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serosblunt · 8 months

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DekuSquad: Showering with Them (Pt. 2)

DekuSquad x (Gender-neutral) reader

Characters: Iida & Uraraka

Warnings: Mentions of nudity and hints at spicier scenes, struggles with mentla health; negative self-talk and body image issues touched on.

Description: Same as my Bakusquad showering thoughts, just with DekuSquad! Part three is coming for Tsuyu, just having writer’s block :)

—————

Iida loves to shower with you, and I mean LOVES. It’s his favourite part of the day, and you both end up in the shower at the same time everyday thanks to his meticulous extreme planning and schedules.

Duty comes first for Iida, but he finds seperating his work/life balance easier than most. Although some days more than others, it’s draining to be the boss, to detach himself so much that it takes him half the night to break-free of his ‘work’ mindset.

On those occasions, it takes a touch more persuading to get your gentle giant close enough to you to lead him back to his sanctuary, where his heart truly belongs.

After setting the temperature, you manoeuvre so you can both settle under the soft stream of the shower.

If stress was visible, you were sure you would be able to see it rolling off of your boyfriend in waves. It was if each droplet on his skin caused more of his tension to melt away.

He practically fuses to you as you hold him beneath the shower head. He was so different in those few small moments, not that you minded one bit.

He would kiss your shoulder where his forehead now lay, softly and unhurriedly; unobstructed due to his glasses laying just beyond your little haven on the benchtop.

Maybe that was what made your shower-cuddle sessions so special, his complete lack of care for anything that wasn’t you.

You were special to him, beyond that in fact.

A truth clearly demonstrated in that you were the only person on earth allowed to mess up his routine- whether that was in the evenings for your shower, or *cough cough* other business *cough cough*.

By the way, he totally has a code word for when you two are getting it on ;)))

Beyond a post-shave balm, your bespectacled boyfriend wasn’t fussed about skincare, although he often liked to sit and watch you put layer after layer of product on, what in his opinion, was your already beautiful face.

And he definitely doesn’t shy away from asking you relevant questions. However, he always rejected your advances if you came at him with creams or oils.

When you two do eventually begin to unwind for the night, barely a word is spoken.

The simple undertaking of kisses and light touches exchanged on the way to bed help push Tenya over the edge of his relaxation- ensuring he’ll get some proper rest for the next day, rather than staying awake, wracking his brain for solutions to work issues.

It also made you feel more loved and significant than you could express. The few minutes you both spent in your cramped apartment ensuite only solidified your bond- your intimacy and connection, surrounded in an unbreakable love and burning reverence.

There is no one better to boost your self-confidence than Ochaco. The woman has never said a derogatory thing to, or about you, nor have you heard of her saying such things through other people.

She was always so uniquely kind, never attacking first, not even out in the field. But if she was provoked enough, that villain would almost certainly be leaving the scene crying.

Your girl was tough as nails when she needed to be, and you loved that fire inside her.

You saw glimpses of this passion if you had slipped a little that day and talked down to yourself, or if you stood in front of the bathroom mirror a little too long.

Everyone has things they don’t like about themselves, Uraraka knew that. And she would be naive to think you were any different.

But aggressive or negative self-talk was banned in your house.

She wanted you to be honest and open about your feelings, yes, but never critical of your thoughts or emotions.

One method your loving girlfriend used to combat this was cute, flirty post-it notes left on your bathroom mirror.

That way whenever you looked at your reflection, you would be seeing what she saw in you too!

You had to admit it was a good system, especially since most mornings she was often through with her shower and out of the house before you were often awake.

Your bubbly girlfriend prided herself on being the loveable rescue hero. The safe, trustworthy looking person children and adults alike could come to and know to look out for.

A part of that look was her signature plump cheeks. You would often find yourself staring at them, marvelling, and wondering how she got her skin to be so bouncy and perfect.

After laughing lovingly at you for the millionth time for that particular occurrence, she finally gave up her secret skincare routine.

Soon after stealing this tightly guarded wisdom, you found yourself poking your own cheeks instead of Ochaco’s; which would soon become the subject of many a post-it note.

You honestly couldn’t ask for a better partner to do skincare with. She always made you try new products together, so neither of you missed out, and she never failed to keep your supplies stocked, even when you forgot yourself.

Uraraka wants you to feel comfortable in your own skin. And while her respect rivals Izuku’s in terms of your privacy, that certainly didn’t stop her from sneaking the odd glance or two when you weren’t looking.

Then again, you aren’t completely innocent of that either ;)

—————

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oldschoolfrp · 1 year

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1980s fantasy-themed silver and helenite jewelry by Monica Roi Saxon / MRS Sunshine Enterprises Inc (ad in Dragon magazine #62, June 1982). Helenite is an artificial glass made by fusing ash from the 1980 eruption of Mount St Helens.

D&D inspo: Unique gems might be found around volcanoes, in areas blasted by dragon breath, around portals to the Elemental Plane of Fire, or within fiery outer planes.

#D&D #Dungeons & Dragons #1980s #dragon #dnd inspo #D&D ideas #jewelry #Mount St Helens #helenite #Excalibur #Monica Roi Saxon #MRS Sunshine Enterprises Inc #Dragon magazine #dnd #Dungeons and Dragons

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fourhornedsatyr · 3 months

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I love Cassette Beasts.

As someone who is an avid fan of Monster Collector games, and who most fondly remembers Pokemon B&W and Digimon D&D from the DS era, I only have good things to say about my first four hours of playing Cassette Beasts by Bytten Studio.

So, I'm gonna talk about it.

Gameplay

The Transformation Mechanic & Record (capture) mechanic

Unlike most games of the genre, you do not summon/control the monsters you use to fight, but rathee you become them -- digimon frontier style. Your avatar & a companion fight using cassettes that have copied the essence of the monsters you encountered (captures work like an alternate of the data copy mechanic of the digimon turn based rpgs).

You effectively have two health bars, that of your monster form & that of your human self, and once your monster form takes enough damage the cassette will break. Upon breaking you will revert to your human form and take on any overflow damage. If you are attacked before it is your turn to select another cassette, then you will receive damage and hence have to worry about your own health. There is no way to replenish the health of human characters in combat, at least none that I have accessed.

Furthermore, many of your status effects, buffs, & debuffs carry over from one transformation to another. This leads to a lot of stacking possibilities, but also means that one much be cautious, think wisely, and manage their defence and type matchups.

When recording/capturing monsters as well, you have to leave your monster form and are vulnerable. Despite having a good chunk of hp it is still wise to protect your human characters via walls & taunts to improve your chances of successfully copying a beast & sustaining minimal damage. This adds an enjoyable complexity to the capture stystem.

Type Matchups & Dynamic Interactions.

Speaking of type matchups, the type interactions are marvelously impressive & complex!

There are 14 types that are inspired by both naturally occuring aspects/materials/elements of the world and anthropogenic ones. Many of these typings can be thought of with a twisted pokemon logic (ground beats lightning, fire consumes poison, water & air put out fire), but we also have the celestial type, which draws from the natural typings and is weak to anthropogenic typings such as metal, plastic, & poison (it thematically (& vaguely mechanically) reminds me of holy & dark digimon types).

Furthermore, many type interactions include buffs & debuffs. Earth slows down plastic types, poison fuels fire types, lightning electrifies the air, and celestial absorbs the energies of natural typings.

BUT THERE'S MORE! Metal types can be coated in poison after interacting with poison type moves and can then deal poison contact damage! When fire types attack air types an updraft is formed that gives the air types a shield! I HAVEN'T EVEN MENTIONED TRANSMUTATIONS! When fire types attack ice types, the latter will gain the water coating effect and will become water types! Likewise, electric attacks can turn ground types into glass!

The dynamics of type interactions is amazing, and makes gamplay so enjoyable.

(Type matchup chart, wiki.CassetteBeast.com/wiki/types)

Fusion

As far as I am aware all cassette beasts are monotype unless they are fused. This is a major mechanic in the game that serves to create a new monster during a fight that shares most of the moves of you and your companion's monster forms.

Yet, while you can do this after filling up a meter that takes, usually, multiple fights to fill, the wild monsters can also do this. These Rogue Fusions pose a unique threat as once defeated they will defuse with full hp and you will then have to fight the two that were fused -- just as what happens when you defuse.

Though there are unique fusions that do have interesting and enjoyable dynamics I have not yet acquainted myself with too many and will not delve too heavily into this topic.

One aspect of the fuse that I will discuss further is the music.

Atmosphere & World Elements

The Music

The music in this game is amazing. The music for the basecamp village of Harbour Town is amazing and nails the theme of the town and the initial emotions of the game wonderfully. Much of the music in combat is dynamic and will change depending on the state of the battle, often playing wonderful vocal pieces after drawing first blood post-fusion (the music changes depending on the fusion too). I fucking love it.

The Land Keepers

There are vampire landlords called landkeepers that you fight in the game to keep them from gentrifying the island.

(Wiki.CassetteBeasts.com/wiki/Landkeeper)

Look at that freak! They are capitalist estate agents whose only goal is to setup an exploitative economic system on the island of New Wirral. One of your companion's whole quest line is shutting them down!

●●●

I love this game.

#cassette beasts #monster collector #video games #gaymer #trans gamer

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adobe-outdesign · 2 years

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Could you review nihilego?

Nihilego has always been one of the stronger UBs in my opinion, having a simple yet unique and properly "alien" design. The idea of a jellyfish that's A) made of glass and B) parasitic is just really cool, and I particularly love the way it latches onto people, with the bell becoming a "hat" and the tentacles becoming hair:

I also like the story detail that Lusamine is so obsessed with this thing that she dresses Lillie like it, which both emphasizes her status as an abusive parent and just makes for neat parallel design-wise.

And visually, it works well. I love the semi-transparent effect and how the stars and blue trim on the bell help to draw attention to the head because it doesn't have a face to do that like most Pokemon do. I also like how the smaller tentacles in front give the impression of arms without it actually having arms.

My only real complaint isn't anything visual, but instead the typing—poison makes perfect sense, both because its a jellyfish and because it induces mind-control via a neurotoxin that causes inhibition loss in exchange for euphoria, but... rock? Why?

It also gains this cool-looking alternate form when fused with Lusamine. Granted, I don't know why it changes so drastically when it doesn't seem to do that with anyone else (the concept art implies it has to do with z-crytals, but I don't think that's ever brought up), but I'm always a sucker for black with multi-colored accents. The "eyes" all over the arms are really neat, and I like how Lusamine's hair flows into the bell. I don't think the "arms" that the tentacles come from were needed, but other than that, it looks pretty slick.

Overall, a very good UB with a simple but alien design, a great concept that's integrated well into the story, and an appropriately cool and menacing alt. form.

#nihilego #pokemon #pokemon reviews

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wackyrumble · 11 months

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San Marino v.s. Roommate

San Marino - Real life

A European country. Founded when a guy accused of being a woman’s estranged husband fled to a mountain where he then created a church. Its head of government are two captains elected every six months. Was once almost been invaded by Napoleon, and twice by family of the Pope. Read more about San Marino below.

Roommate - Diary of a Tourney Kid

A clone of Adam Ruins Everything that came out wrong. He debunks things in the same way as his original, but completely incorrectly. Bill Cipher turned him into a hand puppet and fused him with a clone of another character. Fought Walter White and his evil shadow self, Walter Black. Read more about Roommate below.

Full description of San Marino:

“Okay look I know it’s a country and not a character but perhaps I can convince you that it’s a wacky guy… the wackiest ever in fact. First of all I believe nothing can top its batshit insane political system. The heads of state are called CAPTAINS and yes it’s plural there are 2 of them. And they are elected… every SIX MONTHS. I shit you not. And even better. They’re usually from OPPOSING PARTIES. How anything gets done is a mystery to me. Anyway moving on to history. It was almost invaded by Napoleon in 1797, but one of their regents prevented that. How? He became friends with Napoleon. Napoleon valued their friendship so much he even offered to extend San Marino’s territory… isn’t that crazy. Also. It was the first country ever to democratically elect a communist government, elected directly after their fascist government mind you. All this while being the fifth smallest country in the world. It happened TWICE that a family member of the pope tried to invade San Marino. There can only be one Italian microstate etc (jk I have no idea what their reasoning was). It’s the fact that the whole country only exists because some guy decided to fuck off to a mountain after a woman accused him of being her estranged husband. So he built a church and there you have it San Marino was created. And yeah it’s the oldest surviving republic in the world with the oldest constitution. That’s simply the San Marino way being so special so wacky so unique…”

Full description of Roommate:

"OK OK OK SO LIKE. HE'S FROM THIS MASHUP TOURNAMENT HOSTED ON SOUNDCLOUD & DISCORD CALLED "DIARY OF A TOURNEY KID, RIGHT? YES, IT IS BASED OFF OF DIARY OF A WIMPY KID IN NAME, THEMING, AND A BUNCH OF THE CHARACTERS IN IT. AND YES, THE ENTIRE PREMISE WAS STARTED BY GREG HEFFLEY TRAPPING A BUNCH OF PEOPLE IN THE DIARY. LOOK. OKAY. THAT ISN'T THE POINT HERE. (including a few real people but. roommate isn't one of those real people, LOL)

so Roommate is, like, a WEIRD case. he's a clone of a TV personality version of a real guy(adam conover specifically the whole thing he does in, like, adam ruins everything), but is SPECIFICALLY STATED TO BE A SEPERATE CHARACTER IN LORE. LIKE. HES A WHOLE OTHER GUY. HE DOESNT EVEN ACT LIKE HIM. HES LIKE. THE SCOOBY DOO VILLAIN EQUIVALENT OF A MAN. all he does is run around and "Debunk" shit but hes getting it all totally WRONG. It's like, if someone who never watched adam ruins everything before took one look at its name, the blonde, glasses wearing combover having guy on the cover, and went. "oh, this guy is gonna be HORRIBLE, isnt he". and in the shows case thatd be wrong but in roommate's case, he's...he's so pathetic. he's not even the same guy at this point. (and also literally isn't. but)

He never even manages to intimidate anyone even once. not even mr beast and ninja fortnite, (part of a team called Dubious Duo) who he just. VERY much annoyed via "ruining" twitch. He also got turned into a meaty handpuppet and fused to another clone of a different character by BILL CIPHER, of all characters but then immediately fell into a hole. He got his shit beaten out of him by a 19 year old punk catboy JUST before this, too. the punk catboys name is Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart BUT HE IS IN NO WAY RELATED TO THE REAL GUY. HES LITERALLY JUST. SOME RANDOM TEENAGER.

Also, extra fun facts about him include: during an event that happened on the discord, he canonically went ":3". He made his own ytp and posted it on the soundcloud account, too. he put a bunch of goofy wacky cartoon sounds in it. (his mashups use these sounds a lot outside of the ytp, too.) (incase you REALLY wanted to hear the ytp, though. here it is:

P.S: extra information from a friend because they like to infodump this sort of thing & this isn't nescessary at all. but: He gets the fandom nickname of "Roommate" from his connection to Collegehumor & the Insane Clown Posse song In My Room, which he used in the tournament & is strongly associated with. He's so. He's so normal.

(P.S, P.S: THE IMAGE I SENT WITH THIS IS TECHNICALLY ART OF HIM FROM A CROSSOVER WITH ANOTHER SOUNDCLOUD TOURNAMENT THAT HAPPENED. BUT. its the best render i have that isnt done in like. ms paint LOL. IN SAID CROSSOVER (WITH A TOURNAMENT CALLED "THE PERFECT TOURNAMENT") HE ALSO FOUGHT WALTER WHITE AND HIS. EVIL SHADOW SELF, CALLED WALTER BLACK. WHO WAS LITERALLY HIS SHADOW.)

also: nobody in the fandom knows what his deal is, either. they literally just couldnt catch the real adam conover at first so they (In canon) just went "well! time to make a clone, i guess!" and then he came out WRONG."

#wacky semis #san marino #roommate #diary of a tourney kid #SoundCloud

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horrorstreet · 2 years

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Summertime Jealousy (Part 2)

Request: Very sorry if this already went through but I think I might have deleted some of my last request. It was jealous Thomas Hewitt cause his crush (female or GN) os being nice to one of the victims. Maybe some angst into fluff as his crush finds they like Thomas too. Again sorry if it already went through.

Request sent in by: Anon

Summary: Its Summertime in Texas but work doesn’t stop for the heat. You and Thomas head to work but after the end of your shifts, you are met with a slight problem that is easily resolved.

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, serious gore, guns, SMUT

Quick Note: Stay with me, please. First time writing this for y'all. Enjoy !

If you haven't already, read PART 1

The dinner table was quiet that night. The light clinking of the spoons against the glass bowls was the only sound filling the air. You looked over at Thomas, a giddy feeling stirring in your chest. You had to make yourself quickly look away before embarrassing yourself in front of everyone.

It was rare for the dinner table to be quiet. If Thomas could say something, he might have but the silence was a little intimidating knowing how short of a fuse the others had... Which is where you came in.

"So, Thomas," you began, putting your spoon down and wiping your hands on the napkin in your lap. "How was work today?" You asked, looking over at him. The man looked up from his own bowl in front of him and glanced around at the rest of the table before nodding, giving you a grunt in response.

"That's good." You smiled, tapping your fingers against the wood of the table. The silence continued after that, not even you feeling comfortable enough to fill it. Looking over at Luda Mae, you lifted the napkin out of your lap and sat it to the side of your cup. "Excuse me." You stood up, collecting your things and walking them into the kitchen, dropping them in the sink.

The stove top clock blinked in bright green numbers.

8:45

You peeked into the dining room and sighed seeing everyone had cleared out. You started cleaning off the table, stacking the bowls on top of the others and placed the spoons on top of the pile. You would have to clean off the cups later seeing as how most of them were still full.

Doing the dishes had to be the easiest chore in the house. Cleaning was a big task since the house was huge. Cleaning 2 floors that was constantly dirtied with blood and dirt wasn't an easy job especially with the families .... unique lifestyle. You looked over the table cloth and spotted multiple stains. Both blood droplets and spilled food covered the white cloth and you knew you were going to have to do your best to clear it out unless you wanted an earful from the rest of the family.

Stripping the table of the cloth, you waded it up in your hands and opened the back screen door, propping it open and throwing the cover on the steps. This wasn't going to be easy but you knew you could manage. You did clean Thomas's clothes after all, the apron and shirts being constantly caked in blood, dirt and other bodily fluids.

Filling your bucket with water and pouring your soaps in, you let the table cloth rest and soak before getting to work, wanting the chemicals to do their job well. You watched as bubbles would raise to the surface from the folds in the cloth and took in a long breath.

"God this is going to take for-fucking-ever." You complained, closing your eyes and lifting your head to look into the sky, the clouds orange and yellow. You enjoyed how silent it was all the time. The quiet radio played in the background from a random window in the house, probably Thomas's room and you smiled, always loving the station he would tune into. Songs from your childhood brought back those memories from years ago when Tommy and you were kids.

Running through the tall grass while chasing one another was one of your favorite things to do together. The loud giggles that escaped your mouth and his loud but struggled chuckles reached the ears of everyone else in the house, Luda watching the two of you from the window while working in the kitchen. A smile would cross her face watching the two of you have fun with one another. It wasn't that long ago that you were trying to run from him and now you were trying to catch him to play. She always found it funny how fast the both of you grew attached to one another.

The sound of loud engines snapped you out of your own head, your brows coming down over your eyes. A mean glare taking over that far away look in your eyes.

"LUDA! WE HAVE COMPANY!" You yelled from the back of the house. Abandoning the bucket of water. You quickly made your way to the front of the house to see an old van and truck sitting in your front yard, 4 guys and 2 girls around your age stepping out of both vehicles. They didn't look like they were there for directions this time. They meant business and it just so happened that you did too. "Can I asked you folks why you are here parked on my grass?" You asked, hands placed on your hips, foot digging into the dirt under your heel.

"Not until you tell us where our friends are." You stood frozen for a second, hands slightly slipping off your hips before you quickly jumped back into action. "Your friends? I'm sorry, I have no clue who you're talking about?" You played off, taking a few more steps forward. The man puffed his chest out, making himself look bigger and more intimidating... But you knew intimidating and it wasn't him.

"Oh, don't play fucking stupid, bitch." One of the girls said off to the side. You scoffed and crossed your arms across you chest, your patience growing thin. You had enough with the bunch and hoped that Hoyt would be quick grabbing the gun. No harm in having some fun until then.

"I guess you caught me. Sure are smart for some stupid city kids." You chuckled. "Well, if you must know... We invited them over for supper. Can't say they left with full stomachs but we sure did." You gave a small smile, watching as their faces twisted into looks of confusion. "The guy.. Uhh? Justin?? Yeah, Justin. We got lots of meat off those bones of his. Real juicy too."

The group weren't able to get a word in before a bullet traveled its way through the brunettes head in the back of the small crowd. The crimson drops splattered across your face, painting you red. The thud of his limbs hitting the ground made the girls jump.

"WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK!" The 2nd blonde yelled, his friends lifeless hand draped across his foot. Another shot rang through the air, grazing the blondes ear. His hand quickly shot up to cover his head, instinctively dropping to the ground and shielding himself. This time, the girls scattered, both trying desperately to get in their cars and drive off.

"How impolite do you little shits have to be to park on another mans fucking lawn?" Hoyt sneered, aiming his gun in the face of the last standing intruder. You closed your eyes, hearing the second thud of a body hit the ground and feeling those familiar droplets run down your face and over your eyes, just dripping off of your brow. The blonde on the ground struggled to get up and run, heading right for the house. You sprinted after him, your fingers hooking around his nose but slipping off. With blood coating your hand you, you tried grabbing the back of his shirt, leaving a bloody handprint on the fabric but he once again slipped away, making you even more frustrated.

The spinning of tires behind you made you gasp. The girls had made it into the car, Hoyt on the ground and his gun across the dirt road. He was groaning in pain, telling you he was still alive and you could focus on yourself. The car was speeding closer and closer towards you, the girl in the passenger seat hanging onto the handle of the car for dear life and the other gripping the wheel till her knuckles turned white.

You would have been roadkill if you had moved just a second slower. You jumped to your feet and watched as Thomas quickly ran out of the door with a large hand around the boys neck, his body limp and the blondes face purple. You were at the driver side door quicker than the girls had though, your hand ripping the door open and dragging the red head out by her hair. She let out the most blood curdling scream you had heard in a while and you frowned, wanting her to shut up. Kicking her in the mouth, you knew you had broken a few of those pretty pearly whites and sighed in annoyance. You continued sending your foot towards her face, the screaming becoming more and more muffled by the blood building up in her mouth.

You stopped when her friend pulled you off of her. Her arm snaked around your neck, squeezing as hard as she could. Bloody hands flew up to claw at the girls skin, trying to create space to catch some air. The same girl let out the same terrified scream being lifted into the air by her dark hair, Thomas standing above her with the coldest look in his eyes. He was mad.. and a mad Thomas was a dangerous man. Hell... you were fucken nervous.

The man would have finished the job himself if a final bullet hadn't put an end to the entire situation instead. Hoyt stood with the gun still aimed just incase he needed to take another shot. The only sound left to torture your ears was the loud ringing from the shot of the gun by your head. Other than that, all was quiet aside from the heavy breathing of the 3 of you. Tommy dropped the body in his hand and held a hand out to you, your wrapping around his before being pulled to your feet.

You passed the living room after coming back upstairs from helping Tommy slice up the fresh meat and store it away in the houses freezers. Hoyt was sat on the couch in front of the tv cleaning his gun with a stern look on his face.

Thomas slid the basement door closed, the metal clanging against the lock and making you jump. You were still all covered in blood by the time you had got done helping Thomas and didn't want to hop in the shower to leave some warm water for your beloved boyfriend. You had almost bumped right into the mans chest trying to go back down to tell him to finish up and come shower but he beat you to it, his beautiful eyes staring down at you overtop of his mask that covered his mouth and nose.

"Hey, Tommy. I was just about to tell you to go hop in the shower before we head to bed." You explained to him, looking up at him with a bloody lipped smile that made him twitch. It made him squirm. The way you looked standing infront of him like that. There were still some spots of blood that had yet to dry and your clothes were semi-drenched from how you tried rubbing the stain out of your favorite t-shirt. He could just barely see through but it was more than enough to get his mind running laps.

"Thomas," You waved your hand in front of his face to grab his attention. Little did you know you already it. "Shower? Thomas?" Your brows furrowed together in confusion at his lack of attention to your words. The look in his eyes was a little animalistic and you had to admit, it turned you on a lot more than it should have. Your underwear was suddenly flooded at the thought of what was going on behind those sharp eyes you loved so much. You two seemed to be on the same page in that sense.

"Come on, love. Let's get you cleaned up, huh?" You smiled up at him with a certain look, pupils blown in lust that Thomas mirrored perfectly. He gave a quiet grunt and followed you, your calloused hand slipping into his own on instinct before you began to pull him up the stairs. "I'll help." You glanced over your shoulder for a short second to catch how your boyfriend looked just about ready to eat you up. When he was sure no one was looking, the man took his hand away from the railing as he continued up, almost to the top, and ran two fingers quickly over that hot, sticky spot between your thighs that was practically calling his name.

The feeling made you jump and a gasp escaped your throat. Boy, did that put a pep in your step and you quickly skipped the last step before letting go of the mans hand and speed walking to his bedroom. The bed was bigger to accommodate his large build so it was the obvious choice for your upcoming activites over your smaller bed.

Thomas closed and locked the door to his bedroom as he entered to keep out any unwanted guests before turning his undivided attention to you. He had done this with you once before but for some reason he still couldn't shake that nervous, butterflies in the gut kind of feeling whenever he imaged taking another step forward to make the first move. You had the same gut feeling twisting around inside of your stomach with the addition of your heart rapidly beating through your chest. Your could feel your teeth buzz and your hands tremble a little, no words said in fear your wobbling voice would give away just how nervous you were and how much you absolutely craved the man before you all in one swoop.

The floorboards creaked beneath his weight as he took a few steps forward until he was only a few inches away from you. Your head angled up to look at him but his eyes were focused on your hands that he gently grabbed, cupping them and bringing them up to his face behind his head. He wanted you to be the one to take his mask off. So, your hands worked swiftly but with care, fingers slipping under the leather strap buckle till it finally loosened up and peeled away from his face. "Ok?" You questioned before pulling the mask away completely. He slightly nodded and you smiled softly before pulling it away and setting it down at the foot of the bed next to you.

His hands had managed to find their way to your hips to rest as you messed with his face covering, eyes closed. He was a little scared as to how you would react. He always was. One of his biggest fears was one day seeing a disgusted expression invade your beautiful face at the sight of his deformities and leaving his soul crushed and defeated. Instead, when he met your eyes, he saw a pure and soft warmth he had never witnessed before. Your thumb caressed his cheek, wiping away a droplet of blood and offering a comforting touch as well. "My handsome man." You muttered, that smile never leaving your soft lips. "I love you." You confessed shortly after as you leaned in to place a kiss on his lips.

When your mouths met, the kiss first melted the both of you into a puddle but it didn't take long for it to escalate into something more. Thomas's grip on your hips tightened and one of his large hands slipped under your shirt with ease, running up your body till he reached your chest. He slipped his fingers over your sensitive nipple and pinched one between his touch, pulling a moan from your mouth. It sounded so lewd and caused Thomas to open his eyes and break the heated kiss you both almost got lost in. He brought his other hand under your shirt and was now filled to the brim with a lustful eagerness feeling your warm skin under his palms. You pulled the dirty article of clothing off over your head and tossed it aside and grant your boyfriend more access.

The strain against his cock was too painful at that point. He had to have you. Thomas kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his belt while you followed and removed your pants and shoes as well, everything left on the floor and quickly forgotten. You backed yourself up against the bed and laid down on your back, propped up on your elbows to get a good view of your beautiful Thomas who was hurrying to make his way over where you lay before dropping to his knees and positioning his face between your thighs. His gaze met yours, silently asking you for permission to which you gladly nodded and watched as he licked up the damp spot on your panties. A small moan rested in your throat as he did so, flinching as his rough fingers quickly pulled the underwear down your legs and off in some random direction.

"Tommy.." You cautiously looked down at him. He came to a halt, not wanting to continue in the case that you decided you didn't want this. But, you had made up your mind and simply nodded to which he dove right in. His tongue darted back out to send a long lick up your folds, the tip of his tongue brushing against your open and ready hole. He placed a quick kiss to your clit before licking circles around the bud causing you to moan out his name.

"Fuck, Thomas ! Yes." Your head fell back and your hand grabbed a handful of the mans hair, pulling him closer. He continued his attack on your clit while 2 fingers reached up and gently slipped inside, getting a feel for how tight you were before starting to pump in and out.. and in and out faster and faster. Your juices were quick to coat his hand, the dried blood mixing with your own mess as it dripped down the back of his hand. Tommy slipped a third finger in and didn't stop thrusting into you until he felt you clench around his digits which told him it was time to pull away.

You whined and opened your eyes and see what he was doing and was pleased to see his face wet with your mess and his fingers just the same. He rose to his feet and pulled his boxers off, releasing his hard dick that throbbed with the need to be inside of you. "Thomas, fuck me, please. Fuck me." You moaned out for him to which he quickly obliged. Parting your legs farther apart, he stood in between them, cock in hand and sliding teasingly though your folds. "Please, Tommy." You whimpered to him, face twisted in a mixture of desperateness and pleasure.

How could he say no?..

The man slowly slipped into your hole, patiently filling you up as you got used to his size again. You moaned and whimpered at the feeling and soon nodded and grabbed his hand that was free, the other pressed down on your stomach. You both locked fingers as he started fucking into you and groaned in pleasure hearing the lewd squelching sounds and feeling the way your warm walls squeezed him.

The more the speed picked up, the harder the bed rocked to each thrust he made inside of you. He felt the urge to go faster, open you up good for him so he could dump his seed inside of you and fill you up. Wanted to watch the way his hot cum dropped out of your core after you came on his cock. He was blinded by the idea of fucking his own cum into you and you were too far gone to care about how much noise you two were making. It felt too good.

"Hnn ahh Thomas- I'm cu- cumming - I'm gonna cum 'm gonna cum- fuck." You moaned, eyes rolling back as his thumb worked your clit once again to bring you closer to your climax. He squeezed your hand and grit his teeth before finally reaching his own peak. The both of you were pushed over the edge and you came along with him, your juices spilling all over his dick that twitched as he released his load inside of you. His pace was uneven now and he slowed down to pound into you for the rest of your high. Thomas wanted your cunt to milk him for all he had left and some.

When he was finally done, he came to a stop but never pulled out. He liked the warm feeling of being inside of you. Liked the way you gasped and moaned from slight overstimulation everytime you tried to move. It made him want to go again .. and again and again but he had done a number on you and it was obvious that he was going to be the one helping bathe you that night.

His dick slipped back out of your hole but was quickly replaced with two large fingers that fucked the cum back into you making you moan once again and squirm where you laid. "Oh my god.." you caught your breath as he still rested his digits inside of you. "You did so good for me, baby. Such a good boy." You praised him with a grin, hands pushing his hair away from over his eyes. "My good boy." You let out a long sigh and bit your lip as your boyfriend pulled his fingers out of you.

Thomas carried you out of his bedrooms bathroom and laid you down on his bed, pulling back the covers from under your legs and taking the towel that was wrapped around your naked figure so you could rest comfortably. He threw the towel into the pile of clothes that were forgotten from earlier, his boxers now back on his body to cover him up so he wasn't parading around naked... not that you would mind.

"Thank you, honey." You smiled at the man who took such good care of you. He grunted in response and nodded his head. He picked his mask back up off the end of the bed to soak it in the sink before hopping into the shower himself so he was clean for you for the night. He didn't want you curled up on him while he was covered in filth. Thomas didn't particularly like the idea of sleeping covered in various bodily fluid either.

The night ended with Thomas pulling you into his gentle but firm hold, face pressed into your hair while your hands rested against his chest, ear laid over his heart so you could fall asleep to the soft thumping. You couldn't have imagined yourself in this position, really... You had a crush on your childhood bestfriend for years and now you two were sleeping in the same bed, cuddled up and as happy as you could both be. Nothing would be able to take this from you.. and that night, you promised yourself that if anything tried, it would be the last thing it ever did. Thomas was yours and you were his. It was the beginning of dangerous connection and lord help whoever tried to get in the way.

#thomas hewitt #slasher x reader #slasher movies #slasher blog #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt fluff #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt fanart #thomas hewitt fanfic #thomas hewitt x reader smut #horrorstreet

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dimonds456-art · 1 year

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@doodle-girl

Gordon and Benrey fusion! I don't have a name for them yet, but here they are!

Uhh while I was drawing all this, I may or may not have accidentally created an entire AU out of this concept oops. AU info below the cut

Both Benrey and Gordon are awake within and argue constantly

About 8 ft tall, can shapeshift a little but not a lot

Gordon's glasses, facial hair, eyebrows, ears, and hair length

Benrey's eyes, shadow, nose shape, messy hair, and face shape

Gordon's body type plus Benrey's chubbiness

Tends to be nervous a lot

Infodumps about video games constantly

ADHD + Autism = NEURODIVERGENCE: EXTREME

There should be alt text for those who need it, and my askbox should be open now, lol.

Uhh while I was drawing all this, I may or may not have accidentally created an entire AU out of this concept oops. AU info below the cut!

This one takes place post-canon. Bubby continued working on projects, and is now testing a machine. He didn't say anything about what it was supposed to do, insisting it would be a surprise, and brought the whole gang here.

The thing malfunctioned and fused Gordon and Benrey together.

They now have to wait for Bubby to fix the machine (which I imagine takes about a month) and they're stuck like this the whole time.

Basically, this AU became an excuse to character study lol

Both Benrey and Gordon are extremely depressed in different, unique ways, and feel guilt in different, unique ways. They also think the other hates them, so that's fun. The AU would be about them coming to understand each other and help each other heal and grow. It's a long, slow process, but they are on the right road by the time they switch back.

((Bubby's machine was supposed to be a body swapper so he could be young again, but got a stern talking to from Dr Coomer and dropped the project after the whole fusion debacle))

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #gordon freeman #gordon feetman #benrey #benry #frenrey #frenry #fusion #fan fusion #fusion au #hlvrai au #art games #tommy coolatta #bubby #dr coomer #dimond speaks #dimonds456

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livicraft · 4 months

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A lovely round glass autumn leaves pendant with 925 sterling silver bail and hangs from a brown cord necklace.

#livicraft #jewellery #glass pendants #livicraft glass art #pendant #orange #fused glass #autumn #unique

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danaeanastasiou · 2 years

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Sail Boat & Anchor Fused Glass Hanging 22 euros By Linda Gardner @lindagardner743 Exclusive at Danae’s Genuine Hand Made Arts & Crafts Shop Commissions Welcomed For Wedding or Christening Favors @decorrooms.co.uk @hermes_decorative_glass @decohomeproject @weddingfavors @rozanemona_decorations @baoulino_christening_ideas @fused_glass_by_nilupha @fusedglassdesign #fusedglass#sailboats#hangings#decoration #decorative #decorativearts #glassart #glass#fusedglassart #fused #unique#original#originalart#bylindagardner #oldtown#paphos#lovecyprus#cypruslife#cyprus (at Pafos, the Old Town) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cgb2lOjqidb/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#fusedglass #sailboats #hangings #decoration #decorative #decorativearts #glassart #glass #fusedglassart #fused #unique #original #originalart #bylindagardner #oldtown #paphos #lovecyprus #cypruslife #cyprus

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usafphantom2 · 3 months

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This was a guidance group, and this technology was long, LONG before GPS. It has used uploaded star chart software to look at stars viewed through an upward-looking telescopic device. This accurately determined where both it and the airplane were. This device as a package was called ANS. NASA maintainers nicknamed it R2D2 because of a vague resemblance. Here, it is shown on its support cart; it was installed and removed from a cavity in the airplane using a crane and was considerably heavy. Built by Northrop. ( Davenport Kirk James)

The astro-inertial navigation system (ANS) of the SR-71 Blackbird was a remarkable feat of engineering that allowed the aircraft to navigate with unprecedented precision and accuracy, even over long distances and in challenging conditions. The system's ability to track stars through a quartz glass window, even in daylight, was a critical factor in its success. The quarts glass was fused to the hule which was a breakthrough technology.

Here's how the ANS worked:

1. Primary relationship Alignment: Before takeoff, the ANS's gyroscopes were carefully aligned with the Earth's magnetic field. This initial alignment was crucial for ensuring the accuracy of the system's position calculations.

2. Star Tracking: Once airborne, the ANS would track stars through a circular quartz glass window located on the upper fuselage. The star tracker used a photomultiplier tube to detect the light from stars, and its computer system would then identify the stars based on their positions and brightness.

3.Position Calculation: Using the positions of the tracked stars, the ANS's computer would calculate the aircraft's position relative to a known reference point. This position information was then updated continuously throughout the flight.

4. Navigation Guidance: The ANS could provide the pilot with navigation guidance, including the aircraft's current position, heading, and course. This information was crucial for maintaining accurate flight paths and reaching designated targets.

5. Daytime Star Tracking: The ANS's "blue light" source star tracker was a unique feature that allowed the system to track stars even in daylight. This was achieved by using a special filter that selectively passed only blue light, which is scattered less by the atmosphere than other wavelengths.

6 Redundancy: The ANS was designed with redundancy in mind, incorporating multiple gyroscopes and star trackers to ensure continuous operation even if one component failed.

The ANS played a critical role in the SR-71's success, enabling it to perform reconnaissance missions over vast distances and in hostile environments. The system's combination of precision, reliability, and all-weather capability made it a revolutionary technology in its time. Michael Rutchland #Habubrats

I need to add one of my Dad’s Richard “Butch”Sheffield stories from his book about testing GPS parking lot of the Pentagon with some Generals.The Army and the Navy were very impressed by what the Air Force had….a new thing called GPS. ~Linda Sheffield Miller

Photo of the quartz glass was taken by Curt Mason

@Habubrats71 via X

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fantasyfantasygames · 4 months

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Glasswork

Glasswork, The Refractory, 2007

Glasswork has a fair amount of standard fantasy RPG to it - elves, feudalism, rangers, priests, dragons, magic, swords, magic swords. Scratch the surface and things start diverging quickly.

The world is post-post-apocalyptic. The apocalypse in question is implied to be nuclear, but the game skips past overused radiation/mutation tropes. Instead, it posits that the heat from the explosives not only pulverized stone and fused the sand into glass, but pressed all the magic of the world into that glass. Much of that was used raw, and used up in the process. It was over a century before people figured out how to house the glass in special metals so that the magic didn't escape after use.

Your characters seek out that glass - maybe to use it themselves, maybe to deliver it to a nobleman who hired them, maybe to keep it from their enemies. There's a neat quest-tracking system that pushes your characters in interesting directions, demanding that they choose between various conflicting goals.

The magic system is one of my favorites, and the game's greatest strength. It's tied strongly into the quest system mentioned above, and a crafting system that's honestly mostly a pacing mechanism but still useful just as a pacing mechanism. You pick a kind of glass that you found, melt it, mix in some carefully chosen ingredients, and expose it to light at dawn/dusk/midnight/etc. to imbue it with power. You then set it in metal and, using the metal to cut yourself (lightly), bond it to your own blood. Every spell you have is thus the result of your character's work. You can have any number of items, but there are only so many you can really wear or use at once, so you have a limited number of them available at once.

Magic is mostly elemental effects, with the elements in question being weather, "light" (radiation), metal, and "blood" (the body in general). Weather and light clash with each other, as do metal and blood, so you can't use those at the same time. You have to specialize, which means you'll want to work together. In D&D4e terms, weather is really good for Controller effects, light does Striker, metal does Defender, and blood is Leader, but each of them has a range of unique side effects. A simple glowing amulet might only smell faintly of ozone, but a metal wand that fires burning rays might not only damage your target but melt the ground around them, or burn your hand, or blind people who don't shield their eyes. Every spell-item feels very unique, but you're in control of how it's unique and can swap it out.

Stat names are a little twee - Hardness, Clarity, Sharpness, etc. It feels like a PbtA game that maybe went a little too hard on matching flavor and setting. You get specialties in each one that are sort of like skills, and can be named more reasonably. Stats are dice ratings (d4 to d12) and specialties are flat bonuses (+1 to +3). The standard target number is 4, or (average dice roll) + specialty if you're rolling against someone else. If you're up against someone with d8+2, your target number is now 6. You don't actually suffer injury - instead, the damage that would be done is all bound up in your glass, and once you're out of the hit points it provides you, the magic explodes and then you're injured, probably very badly.

The setting is mostly points-of-light, but with strong connections between places. Cities send each other messages using weather magic. Navigation is easier because of metal control - you can make a compass quickly and also spot large underground deposits that help guide you along. Each of the city-states has a very distinct feel, often focused around an alignment or clash between the citizenry, the leaders, and their magic. Major antagonists include other city-states, as well as dragons (no "types", all unique individuals) and their mortal armies.

The book's artistic direction is unique as far as I know. Some pages have a layout that puts the text into the shape of a mountain, a dragon, a giant, a vase. It's fairly well-done. There were no pages where I couldn't recognize the shape immediately. It does sometimes make the text harder to read, like when it breaks words across the teeth of the dragon. There's no other art except the cover, which is a (probably stock) photo of a gem set in the hilt of a sword.

Glasswork was PWYW on DriveThru for a while. I think The Refractory went under at some point (the game never got a supplement), but since you could always get the PDF for free I wouldn't feel bad about grabbing a copy if you see it for download.

#ttrpg #imaginary #indie ttrpg #rpg #don't breathe in while glassblowing #I can't really blame dragons with fusion glass embedded in their scales for being grumpy #review

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notquitecanon · 2 years

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Dust and Motor Oil // Ray Stantz x Reader

A little meet cute for the heart of the ghost busters

Ray Stantz x Paranormal romance novelist! reader

but shhh he doesn't know that and yes it is going to be a problem bc I live for the drama. ten bucks you don't know what kinda drama it's gonna cause

tw: mentions of adult romance novel contents, the word v*mit is used like twice but not talking about actually being sick

Being a paranormal romance writer was hard. Being a paranormal romance novelist in the 80’s without access to the internet was harder. So you considered a stroke of luck you stumbled across an occult book shop not even three blocks from your apartment, only one from your favorite coffee shop. Your editor had provided you a list of occult and oddity shops in the area when complaints of inadequate literature pushed back your manuscript for the third time. Each of them offered unique items, yet turned their noses up when you divulged the purpose of your research.

So after one too many shots of espresso, the second strongest liquid courage, and the resolve to keep your career to yourself, you made the block in jittery, record time, finding yourself in front of “Ray’s Occult” with your face reflected between the blue neon of the window sign.

The door tinkled a little bell as you pushed it open, alerting a seemingly empty store. You weren’t bothered by that though, it was probably for the best that no one saw how your jaw dropped or eyes bugged. The sheer volume of books was mindblowing in such a tiny space- old tomes overflowing from every semiflat surface, cracked spines crammed to capacity in the shelves, books stacked in corners, cluttering end tables…

The research had always been the hardest part of your chosen genre- not that your publisher or most of your readers were striving for accuracy between the bodice ripping, but it mattered to you, leaving many projects abandoned due to lack of information. Looking around again, you had a sneaking suspicion you had hit the gold mine.

Aside from the general vastness of the collection, the little store had a welcoming atmosphere- or at least compared to other occult and witchy stores you had tried to frequent. You felt giddy, the smell of old books flooding your senses like a drug after another deep inhale. Along with the ever comforting old book scent that every reader and author alike loved, the air had a not quite herbal not quite incense fragrance, just strong enough to be noticed but not strong enough to give you a headache, it fused with the lingering scent of tobacco. Any space not occupied by shelves or stacks, well loved, plush chairs had been squeezed in so readers could disappear into their chosen reading material. The clerks counter was a glass show case, featuring all sorts of odds, ends, and curios, and the surface was covered in open books and little trinkets. As you passed by the counter, low, haphazardly hanging baubles, chimes, and bells threatened to graze the top of you hair if you were just any taller. You reached up giving a bronze and glass shard mobile an affectioned graze, watching how it reflected the warm overhead lights and chinked noise into the otherwise silent store.

Just being here made your fingers itch, made you want to be writing. To satiate your digits, you moved on to the shelves, dragging appreciative hands along the spines to smudge dust away from the titles. Somehow the dust collected there was endearing rather than dissuading. Titles like “Necronomicon”, “The Weiser Book of Horror and the Occult”, “The Compendium of Transcendental Doctrine and Experiment”, “Occult Experiences - 1906 Edition”, and “Creatures, Entities, and Deities of Western Russia, ancient and psuedomodern folk tales.” all captivated your mind, wondering what new ideas these books could spark.

“Hello? Is someone here?” A bright voice called, jerking you out of your reverent exploring, startling you so much you flinched away. This, in combination with the close quarters of the shelves, resulted in your shoulder knocking an already shifty stack of books off their home on the nearest end shelve. Your yelp of surprise was strangled as you made a mad dive to prevent the lamp from falling over as well, in response the voice changed, less bright now, almost a stern warning, like an unamused teacher, “Is… something here?”

You forcibly cleared the dust and pesky frog from your throat, setting the lamp upright before dropping to the floor to get a head start on cleaning up your mess, “No, No! A someone! A clumsy someone, but a someone nonetheless.”

Using your flustered rambling, the new comer wound his way through the hedgemaze of shelves. You could hear his heavy footfalls as you at least got the books all closed before he rounded the corner- partially for the assumed employ not to shout at you, but also as an author your heart clenched at some of the unseemly angles the books that were probably older than you splayed open at, honestly a crime, “I’m really sorry about this, I guess clumsy and jmpy aren’t a really good combination in a cluttered book store. Not that the store is cluttered. Well, I guess it is by definition a little cluttered, but not in a messy, gross way, ya know? More in a homey, ancient library kind of way. Good clutter. I’m pro clutter.”

You were still rambling as you stood, swiveling to orient yourself towards the man. Despite knowing you were basically vomitting words, not all of them good, in fact the ones that weren’t utter nonsense were borderline insults, you couldn't stop yourself, avoiding meeting this man’s eyes like a scolded child. Just great, typical even, you had hit the metaphorical gold mine of paranormal research and now you could never show your face here again.

When you finally had rounded your way back around to apologizing again, you forced yourself to raise your eyes to meet the presumed employee. What you were met with finally stunned you to silence- though you weren’t sure if your sudden muteness made you seem more or less insane. Regardless, another bonus for the occult book shop was the man in front of you.

Easily six feet, maybe taller, so you had to crane your neck up to meet his eyes- especially with how close he had to stand due to cramped quarters between the stacks. He wore khaki slacks, just tight enough to stoke your imagination as they clung to his thighs. Under a very soft looking sweater vest cardigan was a button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing strong, muscled forearms and manly hands that were smudged with ink, or maybe grease. Around his neck was a pair of glasses, connected to a neat chain, making you absentmindedly wonder if he had a habit of misplacing them. Above all, he had a kind face, familiar somehow, even when looking at you with just as surprised eyes. You gasped a little bit in welcome surprise to find hetero-chromic eyes, only noticeable due to proximity. It was silent for a moment until he seemed to realize that if you both kept staring at each other, nothing would ever happen- just two shocked fools gazing at each other in different types of awe.

“Oh, geez, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” He muttered, mostly to himself before clearing his throat, chuckling a bit as he recalled your word vomit, “No, No, I’m well aware of how cluttered it is in here. My fault for ordering inventory before measuring the space. I hope I didn’t scare you too bad.”

Then he smiled at you. Not a polite tug of his lips, no a real smile. One of those warm, genuine smiles that put you at ease just seeing it, that were so few and far between in New York these days that you almost subconsciously relaxed. Somehow boyish and beyond his years at the same time as he outstretched his dirty hands, “I’m Dr. Raymond Stantz.”

With a smile like that, you didn’t know what had come over you, it was almost embarrassing how enamored he had you with so few words. You didn’t think twice about taking his hand in yours, despite the ink, dirt, grease or what ever it was he had gotten into. His hands were big, and warm, dwarfing yours as he gave it an excited shake. Despite the callouses, they weren’t rough. Finally, you managed a blink which allowed you to drop your gaze to your hand in his, his eyes followed yours before gasping.

“Oh no, I’m sorry I didn’t realize how greasy my hands were!” He apologized cheeks going rosy, dropping your hand as though that would decontaminate them, holding his palms up to show you just how greasy they were. So it was mechanical grease- another thing that should have irritated you was marked into the endearing category.

Not meaning to, you frowned as the sudden breach in contact. You hadn’t been bothered until you looked down and saw how the dust had collected now into grime both on his and your hand. Now it was your turn to grimace at your freshly noticed social faux paux- your grandmothers voice echoing in your mind, dirty hands aren’t meant for shaking.

“Well, I guess we’re even, I didn’t realize mine were so dusty.” Ray looked down at the dust clinging to the smudges on his fingers. Both of you waited for the other to be frustrated or snap, but it never happened, instead he cracked a smile, bright eyes meeting yours with such gleeful glint that made you giggle. Then, you both laughed like you knew each other for years, both of you holding your hands out so as not to contaminate anything else. Shaking his head, the man reached into his back pocket and produced an oil stained work towel, offering it to you first like a true gentleman.

You took the rag with a quiet thanks, making quick work of both hands before passing it back to him, voicing your mild epiphany, “I guess that makes you the Ray, of Ray’s Occult?”

“Guilty.” Dr. Stantz gave a tightlipped grin of faux guilt, holding his oil stained hands up as if he’d been caught, “The one and the same. I never caught your name thought?”

“Oh, sorry!” You shook your head, as if that would kick start your brain into acting like a real human again before offering your name like an offhanded comment. Ray wiped his hands with that happy grin as if your name was the highlight of his day.

“Well, Welcome to Ray’s Occult, (Y/N), premier destination for all your supernatural needs, where I swear I dust once a week.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as he stopped down to pick up a couple of books that hadn’t been rearranged yet. You joined him on the ground, sorting out books as he shook his head, “I mean it, I swear something in here is possessed by some dust mongering spirit. Class two, at least!”

Your grin only grew as you met his eyes teasingly, “A plague to all those with sensitive sinuses.”

With two sets of hands, it was quick work to return the stack of books to their previously precariously stacked glory. Ray seemed appeased, hands on his hips after he had helped you up again, “So, what brings you in today?”

For the first time, you hesitated with your words. You weren’t exactly ashamed of your work- you paid your rent by doing something you and countless others enjoyed. No shame in that. And yet. Not everyone found your work to be exactly, respectable. It was the main reason you had finally made the move to New York City and started printing under a pen name, the very reason that occult book stores across Manhattan had turned their noses up at you. And Ray was just waiting for an answer with that smile… This very kind, very funny, and very very cute nook store owner didn’t need to know your interest lied in research for your historical and or paranormal-fantasy bodice rippers. Sometimes it was just easier to not get into it. Still, it was hard to imagine lying to the man, despite just meeting him it felt wrong, so you only lied a little bit, clearing your throat to mask your hesitance, “Oohh, just casual curiosity. I’d love some light research on the supernatural.”

Ray nodded, either not noticing or not caring for your obfuscated answer, “Anything in particular, or dealers choice?”

You ignored the laundry list of of specifics you needed to research more, instead settling on, “Uhm, I guess special interest in paranormal creatures-ahem- corporeal more so than not.”

For your line of work, the more corporeal bodies the better.

Still you couldn’t help but be curious about Ray’s choice in literature, so you tacked on, “But, I’d love to see what the dealer has to offer too.”

Ray’s cheeks went rosy again as he cleared his throat, motioning for you to follow him, “Now, I specialize in more noncorporeal entities, but I have a good bit of literature more your style. I definitely wouldn’t recommend them for bedtime reading but….”

“I always suggest starting with Tobin’s Spirit guide, good citiing for any paranormal research, really.” He rounded the first corner, approaching the shelf with several of the same book packed together, before adding sourly, “This is an older edition, but the latest isn’t much different save for the unfortunate publisher bias on new research to sell more copies.”

Pulling the burgundy bound book, his scowl was gone as soon as it came moving to the next shelf, rattling off a couple titles with dismissing shakes of his head before finally landing on one he approved of, “Neiman’s Bestiary of Western Europe sounds about like what your looking for, highly recommended.”

He pulled it out of the shelf, leaving such a large space that the surrounding books sagged almost in relief to have newfound freedom. He thunked it on top of Tobin’s, not even offering to have you carry them as he rounded another corner, “I don’t how you feel about Fae lore, but ‘An Encylopedia of Fairies’ is eye opening. Makes you think about Tinkerbell a little harder.”

He gave an overdramatic shake of his head as if to emphasize his point in the terrors the book held. It made you want to crack it open then and there just to know what he was talking about. Seeing your wide eyes he smiled and added it to the pile, pulling the book of the Western Russian folklore where you had left dust free swipe along the spine. With a mischievous wink, he wordlessly added it to the growing pile cradled in his arms.

“Let’s see, dealers choice…” He hummed, scratching his head as he thought before his eyes lit up, bounding up to the counter. He easily lugged the pile of varying sizes and yet all heavy books- easily at least twenty pounds- onto the counter with enough of a thunk that you feared the glass counter might shatter under its weight. He seemed unaffected by the racket as he sifted through the open materials on his makeshift desk, before emerging victoriously with a laminated folder. With a wide smile he flipped through the pages as if to prove he had found it, the pages were rife with sticky notes, highlighted portions, and penciled in notes in the margins, “Aha! ‘Immigrating Entities’- it’s a mindblowing article discussing the theory that entities and creatures can follow people groups when they migrate. Written by one of my former college professors, truly fascinating read.”

You noticed that despite his excitable nature, when he got truly riled up he started talking even faster, shaking the folder in barely concealed exhilaration. Ray cleared his throat, forcing himself to appear a bit more calm, “Sorry, just fascinating stuff! Anything piquing you interest?”

“No, don’t apologize!” You shook your head with an assuring smile, stepping closer to the counter so you could lean in closer. Taking in the stack he had amassed for you, you didn’t know if you would make it home without getting lost in ones pages. It was clear he was passionate about the subject, even more than you were, and happy to help, you couldn’t help but smile back, truthfully answering, “All of it, actually.”

Ray nodded sagely, “I know the feeling.”

Minutes later, Ray had totalled you up- Tobin’s and the Bestiary to keep in your personal collection, Western Russian Folklore and Encyclopedia of Fairies on trial basis, and Immigrating Entities on loan (this was after a five minute debate on your insistence you couldn’t take his obviously well loved and marked up copy, and his insistence that he had it memorized after reading it so many time, you had compromised only after you had promised to return it with absolutely not even a bent page). Dr. Stantz even tacked on a 10% ‘first time in’ discount that he randomly remembered after getting lost in thought (totally not staring at you), and was kind enough to round up a cardboard box for you after the paper sacks he offered shredded against the weight.

“Got it?” He asked cautiously as you hefted the box off the counter. It was akin to carrying a chubby five year old, but you managed.

“I can handle myself.” You winked as he came around the counter to open the door for you, tall enough that he could open the door and you could just walk under his arm.

He cleared his throat right as you crossed the threshold, stopping you in your tracks just as close as the two of you had been in the shelves earlier. This time when he smiled it was softer, “I hope to see you again…”

He trailed off eyes widening as your cheeks heated, quickly adding on, “In the store, I mean, I still have plenty to show you if you’re interest.”

Oh you were interested.

“I’m sure I’ll be back soon, Dr. Stantz.” You assured him, hefting the box a little higher on your chest, “I’m a fast reader.”

“Call me Ray, please.” Ray implored, somehow making such a mundane request seem earnest and intimate. You swallowed thickly, looking up at him as you nodded. He nodded in response to your nodding before adding, “Have a good night, (Y/N).”

“Thanks again, Ray.”

His grin was bright enough to power the city as you turned away, marching your way back to your apartment. And while you didn’t have that 1000 watt grin, you smile, a bit more subdued, was wistful. The writer in you could almost envision how these events would look on page, see the pages turning to a new chapter, new characters, new possibilities.

And you loved a good story.

is this planned to have more than one part? yes

will I never touch it again if it doesn't get at least a dozen likes?? also yes this is a threat pls give me validation

#dr. ray stantz x reader #ray stantz x reader #egon spengler x reader #don’t mind me writing overly self indulgent ghostbusters #ghostbusters x reader

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