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lazuli-bloom · 3 years

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Roses and Styx

Chapter 1 - An Inconvenient Attachment

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5365

Sure life wasn’t always easy, it had it’s ups and downs, but you were doing alright for yourself. Mostly. However when you find a strange sight while on your lunch break one autumn afternoon, your life gets all the more unusual.

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The sun beat down on you, unobstructed by a single cloud in the vibrant blue sky. A pleasant breeze wafted by, chilling the heat of the sun’s kiss. Summer was in its death throes, but stayed determined to linger as long as possible. It gave an odd contrast to the scenery. The blazing warmth of a summer sun illuminating the turning leaves and tombstones on that early October afternoon.

You sat on a stone bench enjoying your lunch in the quiet peace of the graveyard. Most people avoided visits to the cemetery, not wanting to keep the company of the dead. You, however, frequented it. With few visitors and lovely Gothic inspired architecture, the cemetery made a relaxing place for lunch breaks. Plus, it was only a short walk from your job.

While there were benches throughout the graveyard, your favorite spot was one off in the corner and closest to the gate. That day, however, there had been a funeral held in that corner of the cemetery. So as not to impose, you picked a different bench to occupy. You tried to not let your gaze stay fixed on the graveside service, but the task proved to be easier said than done. The funeral repeatedly pulled your attention back to it by partly virtue of being an event you’ve rarely seen.

Many people, dressed in black, all focused on one grave. Most of the figures standing there were adults, but among the crowd were children clinging onto parents. The group was too far to get a proper look at any of the mourners, but there was one that stuck out. A man, slightly broad in build, wore a peculiar striped suit with wide vertical bars in black and white. You noted the clothing choice as strange, but tried not to judge. Perhaps he wasn’t able to get a solid black suit on short notice.

The strange pattern of the suit made it easy to pick him out against the other mourners. He didn’t stay still. He moved around, seeming to want to get other’s attention only to be ignored. The man’s bizarre actions, coupled with the indifference of the crowd, were major reasons you kept glancing back to the funeral.

You shake your head and check your phone, almost two o’clock. Time to head back to work. You grab your trash and get up with a stretch. With one last glance back to the funeral, you find the striped suit man looking back your way. You pay him no mind and check your phone once more before heading to leave.

To wring the most time and relaxation out of your lunch, you amble back to the hardware store. You turn to the next street where brick shops sat side by side. On the corner was a shop with a rounded, sun-faded green awning stretched over most of the front facade. Your eye glanced over the printed “Rose Creek Hardware” in yellow letters for what must have been the millionth time.

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside. To your left an older mustached man stood behind the front counter. He wore a light blue button down under a green apron, both tight around his rounder stomach. He gave you a warm smile that you returned.

“Back from lunch already, Cass?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice out today, I can hardly believe it’s October already.”

“Hopefully, when I get the Halloween decorations up, it’ll give things a more autumn feel.”

“Can’t wait to see it, Mr. Turner! Oh, and is Sam still here? Or have they left already?”

“They’re still around. Sam was helping the new hire.”

You nod and make your way behind the counter to retrieve your apron. After you get the strings tied, you do a sweep of the store. You found Sam in the back corner pulling merchandise forward. They didn’t notice you straight away, so you softened your footsteps for your approach. You stayed at their back until they turned enough one way that you could slip around to their side and not get caught in Sam’s peripheral. Once close enough to the shelving yourself, you slap your hands down on a bare spot- “-Missed a spot!”

Sam seized up, grabbing the shelf for support. “Geez, dude! You trying to kill me?” A wide grin breaks across your face. You chuckle to yourself as Sam regained some composure. They took a breath, shot you a glare, and got back to work.

“Heard you were training the new guy.”

“Yeah, he left already.”

“What’s he like?”

“Eh. Kinda boring? White bread personified, if you ask me. Dude came in with a dress shirt and tie.”

You shrug and start helping pull forward items. While turning products to have labels front-facing you continue on with your conversation. “Sounds like all I’ll have left to talk to will be Mr. Turner.”

There was a pause in that moment, and a sting of sorrow poked at your heart. You do your best to smother the feeling and focus on your work. It’s better to cherish the moment. You force yourself to smile and keep your chat going.

“So, there was a funeral today-”

Sam groaned and rolled their eyes at you. “You went to that creepy graveyard again? How are you not haunted?”

“Hey! I told you, it’s close by and usually quiet. I enjoy taking my lunches there. Anyway, there was a funeral and one guy there was in a weird suit with black and white stripes. Kinda like the Hamburglar.”

“I swear. You’re a magnet for the weirdest shit. It’s all those shitty movies you watch that seep into your head. How the hell do you not get nightmares?”

You stay silent and look over the product in your hand as your mind wandered back to your most recent nightmare. Piercing blue dots masked in shadow, watching every move you made. You shake your head to dismiss the thought.

You huff out a small laugh. “Guess that stuff just doesn’t get to me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t let any of your weirdness rub off on my cat.”

You press your lips into a tight line and tap your finger against the pliers in hand. “You sure there isn’t anywhere else he can go?”

“Cassie, I already told you I checked.”

“I’m just worried. I don’t think this is a good idea. My apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“It’s just for two weeks. I’ll pick him up on the sixteenth. Hell, that’s not even a full two weeks, just thirteen days. You’ll be fine.” Sam finished with their side of the aisle and took a step back. “When do you want me to drop him off?”

You breathe out through your nose and make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan. “Seven should be alright. Donna’s always heads out to the bars on Saturdays, so it should be clear by then.”

“You need to lighten up and not worry so much. Maybe a cute roommate is exactly what you need.”

You don’t give a reply and go back to work. The two of you split off and start tackling other sections of the store. Time marched on, and all too soon, Sam’s last shift ended. Mr. Turner bid them a farewell with a handshake and handed Sam their last paycheck. You give them a small wave and focus back on your task. You knew full well you were going to see them later that night, so you didn’t see the point of having a drawn out goodbye right then.

Once Sam left, the rest of the day dragged on slower than a sloth on crutches. When there weren’t any customers needing help, you talked with Mr. Turner. It gave you something to do, sure, but time still crawled.

That day was one of the worst kinds you can have in retail. The kind that’s just slow enough you bored out of your mind, and peppered with enough customers that you couldn’t slack off and dick around on the store’s desktop. It’s like they coordinated to space themselves out to be the most annoying.

As grueling as it took to get there, five-thirty eventually rolled around. You and the boss took the last half hour to close the store. Sweep, wipe down the counters, count the till, all that good stuff. You were in the middle of dusting when Mr. Turner handed you an envelope. You thanked him and opened it to count the bills inside. Five whole Benjamins. With another thanks, you move the bills into your wallet and get back to dusting.

Once all finished, you headed out, followed by your boss. He locked the front door and walked with you around the side to the small parking lot. He hopped into his old pickup while you climbed into your little junker. The bucket of rust masquerading as a car was on its way out, but you planned on getting every mile out of it you could. Mr. Turner had driven off by the time you coaxed your car into starting. The car sputtered and hissed, but you got the clunker going.

The drive to your apartment complex was as mundane and silent as ever. Your only option for music was to sing it yourself, since the previous owner had beaten the hell out of the radio. CDs weren’t an option either as the owner before the last had stuffed the disc slot full of cookies. For what reason remained a mystery.

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you drove, watching familiar sites go by as you neared your apartment. Nicer well-kept buildings and streets slowly turned to the more rundown variety. The street grew more broken and in increasingly desperate need of repairs as you went.

Building after building, you passed by until finally it was time to turn off. You pull up to your complex’s parking lot, just as run down as the roads leading to it. Two buildings sat facing each other, both in contest for which one can be the most rundown. Your building nudged ahead of its twin with the recent addition of graffiti marring the exterior.

You park in your designated spot, managing to not bump up against the two cars encroaching on your space. You worm your way out without adding anymore dents to the black sedan, and head to the complex’s front door. Standing near the door with a cigarette between clawed yellowed fingers was a scrawny older woman with a perpetual sneer on her wrinkled face. Cold steel eyes narrowed at you as you dared to approach the harpy.

“Hi Donna. How are you?”

“Parker! Where’s the rest of your rent?”

You force a smile to mask the spike of irritation. This harpy is going to be the death of you. You clear your throat to help prevent your ire from bleeding out into your tone.

“Right here, Donna. I get my pay on Saturdays.”

“Not my problem. Rent is due in full on the first. Today is the third.”

“I tried paying you last Saturday, but you-”

“The first, you stupid child. Not Before. Not after.”

“Yes Donna, I know. I’m sorry, I needed to replace a flat tire an-.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just pay the rest of your rent and get out of my sight. You worthless leech, can’t even follow basic instructions.”

You press your lips into a tighter line to keep yourself from screaming at the horrid bat. It was best to bite your tongue and get the interaction over and done with as quick as you could. You pull out your wallet and hand over four bills. It was nice while it lasted.

Donna snatched the money from you and promptly counted it. Once satisfied, she took a long drag off her cigarette. She ordered you to leave while smoke seeped out of her mouth like a dragon.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You hurried off to your apartment, climbing the stairs to the second floor and making a beeline for your door at the end of the hall.

You shut the door, leaning against it and breathed out a deep breath. After calming yourself some, you set your keys on the counter by the door and step further into your little abode.

You make your way back to the small living room and crash on the dingy brown love-seat, tossing your phone onto the stained coffee table. You lean back and stare at the ceiling. A boring white painted over heavy popcorn texture, collecting all kinds of dust. You close your eyes and let your mind wander, wanting to squeeze some relaxation time out of the rest of the day. Too bad your phone rang.

Sam called to tell you they were on their way with the cat. You told them to be careful and not let Donna see them on the off chance that she hadn’t left for the bar yet. Sam, however, brushed aside your concerns and told you not to be so worried. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned at that. Sam wasn’t the one that had to deal with Donna and hopefully never will.

It wasn’t until a long while later that there was a knock at your front door. A quick check through the peephole showed you Sam was on the other side with a backpack and pet carrier. You open the door and hurry them inside. Sam stepped in, stopping in the space between the kitchen and living area, and looked over the place.

“Wow. This place is shitty.”

“Thanks, hadn’t noticed.”

Sam set the carrier down on your couch, and the cat inside growled in a low tone. Sam took off their backpack next and handed that one over to you.

“Here’s all of Rigel’s things; food, bowls, litter box, toys. I’ll be back in town to get the last of my stuff on the sixteenth, and I’ll pay you then.”

“I thought we agreed half now and half when you got back?”

“It’ll be easier to just pay you all at once.”

You drum your fingers on your thigh and let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. It will be nice to get two hundred dollars all at once.”

“See! You fuss over the smallest things.”

You change the topic by offering Sam something to drink but they declined. Sam still needed to pack up a few more boxes before the end of the night. You nod and give a small wave goodbye, only for Sam to pull you into a hug. Your muscles tense up, but you did your best to return Sam’s sudden hug.

There was a unique funk around Sam that made the hug even more challenging to bear. An overly strong lavender tried and failed to cover some mix of sweat and burnt coffee. Sam left shortly after, telling you to just call them should you need anything. You nodded and waved them off.

Once they left, you turn to Rigel stuck in his carrier. His hissing got louder the closer you got to the carrier, and was full on slashing at the front when you reached down to open it.

You recoil and let him be for the moment, choosing to set up his things in the bathroom instead. While your bathroom was on the smaller side, it seemed big enough for one cat to stay in. You pack up all the various toiletries that a bored cat might knock down and set out Rigel’s things. Litter box in the corner across from the shower stall, while his food and water were against the opposite wall between the door and the sink.

With that set up you go get the carrier. You did your best not to jostle it too much, but Rigel wasn’t pleased and let you know. He let out some of the most chilling demonic screeches as he knocked against the fabric carrier, desperate to break loose and slaughter you. You set the carrier down in the closet, closing one of the bi-fold doors so he had a dark corner to hide in. You braced yourself with a few steadying breaths before swiftly unzipping the front. Once open, you pull your hand back and leave the bathroom completely, making sure the door shut behind you.

You did your best to salvage the rest of your night, enjoying your cup of noodles while watching a movie. It was a B-Movie slasher about a supernatural being going on a killing spree in Las Vegas. And this somehow led to the being going to space in the next film. Overall, it was pretty cheesy, but got a few laughs from you.

Soon you had to wrap things up and head to bed. You sneak into the bathroom to swipe your toothbrush and clean them at the kitchen sink that night, and probably for the next two weeks. With a yawn and a stretch you change into sleepwear and crawl into your bed.

Sleep didn’t come to you easily, but it wasn’t a night full of endless tossing and turning, either. The rest you got didn’t feel like enough, as the buzzing of your alarm woke you too early for your liking.

You sat up rubbing your eyes and checked your phone for the time. The small screen on the back of the thin flip phone showed the time was seven o’ two. You heave out a sigh and pull the warm covers off.

While your body went through the motions of your morning routine, your mind wandered back to the images you saw in your dream. An island floated in the middle of a dark ocean with storm clouds rumbling high above. The cold wet sand pricked against your bare feet like needles, yet you kept on walking. You had found yourself on a rickety dock at least fifteen feet above the violent waves below. There was nothing around you, but you knew you weren’t alone. Down below, lurking beneath the water, two hungry orbs of blue glared up at you, waiting. Expecting. When you didn’t move from your perch, the beast thrashed at the pillars of the dock. You lost your footing and tumbled down to the abyss.

You shook your head, forcing your thoughts to jump back to the present. Chills ran down your spine as the nightmare crawled around in the back of your mind, clawing its way forward. You stuffed it as far back as possible and carried on with your morning.

You soon were out the door and on your way to work. You grip the toilet paper wrapped over your forearm, letting the lines of blood soak into it so it can better rest on your arm. Rigel had given you a few nasty scratches when you got him fresh water, the ungrateful bastard. At least there’s a first aid kit at work.

The bell above the door chimed as you looked at the time on your phone. The damn cat almost made you late for work. You make your way to the back room to grab your apron, only to bump into a man turning the corner. It took a second to get your bearings and notice you ran right into Mr. Turner.

“Oh shit. Sorry, sir.”

He laughed and waved you off. “Morning Cass, see you’re in a hurry.”

“Ah- no, well, kinda. I hit every red light getting here and-”

“You’re fine, don’t worry. No need to rush. Just get your apron and I’ll introduce you to the new guy.”

You nod and scurry back to grab the green apron. It hung by itself on the hooks, speckled in paint and smudges. By that point the thing was overdue to get tossed and replaced, but the same thing would end up happening to the next apron.

You throw it on and tie it behind yourself before going out to the sales floor. Mr. Turner stood next to a man younger than himself but older than you. The boss was the first to notice you and gave another wave. “There they are.”

The new guy turned and flashed you a wide smile, showing off straight white teeth in a hollow smile. Tamping down the disquiet, you force yourself to offer a smile in return. The man strode up to you and held out a hand. “Great to meet you, I’m Brandon! Mr. Turner was just telling me how great of a worker you are-” He squinted at your apron before going back to that fake smile- “Art. Interesting name.”

“Thanks,” you said, and hesitated a moment before taking his hand for a brief shake. On contact that strange buzz of discomfort shot from your palm through the rest of your arm. Once your hand was free, you fight the urge to rub off the non-existent traces of him. There wasn’t anything there, nothing real, and you knew that, but more than anything you wanted that feeling gone and the only way for it to leave was to brush it off. Why did people have to insist on handshakes, just needless physical contact with strangers? It’s stupid, and you hated it.

For the first half of your shift the boss had you go over the day-to-day tasks with Brandon. There were few customers in the store that Sunday morning, so you mostly had the guy pull forward merchandise and clean some shelves. Brandon did the tasks, but they all came with questions. Most of the questions were mundane things about the products stocked, store hours, and what times saw the most customers. The problem came when Brandon veered his questions towards you personally.

“So, is Art short for anything?”

“Artemis.”

Your answer was short and pointed. You already didn’t like that he was the type to read name tags over asking for someone’s name.

“Interesting. So you from around here?”

A shiver shot through you, and you’re quick to stop that line of questions. You ignore the question entirely, instead cutting in to tell him to finish front-facing the aisle while you go check on Mr. Turner.

The day dragged on until finally getting to your lunch break. Brandon, thankfully, caught on that you weren’t one to disclose much about yourself to a new face. However, that didn’t make the morning smooth sailing. You grab your lunch and speed off to the cemetery, eager to get a break from Brandon.

Your usual bench was free, and you took your place to enjoy lunch. Munching on your meal, you take in the sights, finding a serenity in the quiet. The sun shined brightly, causing some of the glossier headstones to reflect the rays. You hum to yourself and scan over the graveyard. To your surprise, you spotted someone in the far corner opposite you. Your brows furrowed, perplexed by the other. You watched the figure, curious of what they’re doing.

They wandered from gravestone to gravestone, kicking at the earth with hands stuffed into pockets. The build of the figure suggested a man, and one dressed in monochrome. You squint your eyes at them making sure you weren’t mistaken; but no, that was the same bizarre suit you saw a man wearing the day prior.

You keep your gaze fixed on him, wanting to figure out why he might be here a second day in a row visiting completely different graves. Did the man simply like to visit graveyards and have a limited wardrobe? If so, you didn’t want to comment on the matter out of fear of shattering the glass house.

You ate lunch with glances at the man. You wanted to piece together why he might be there. He wasn’t mourning; he moved from one grave to the next as if searching for something. The man in the weird suit went down one row of graves, heading away from you, only to hit the end and turn back for the next row.

You forced yourself to not look at him for fear of getting caught. But your curiosity burned, and you chanced a look up. He didn’t notice you, too engrossed in whatever he was doing. Embolden by that, you continue to munch away at your food and sneak glances at him. That is, until you swallowed wrong and went into a coughing fit.

You got your breathing under control a minute later and checked to see if he noticed. And oh boy, did he notice. The man was staring straight at you. It was awkward enough to get caught looking, but you noticed the man closing the gap between you two. He was still at the far end with well over two hundred feet between you, but you didn’t want to stick around and have that plummet to single digits.

Nope. You scoop up your belongings and speed-walk straight back to the store. You didn’t even chance a look behind you. Eyes forward and keep moving. You weren’t sure if he was actually still following; you didn’t hear any footsteps behind you. So that seemed like a good sign.

You blew past the door, bell violently chiming, and you made a beeline for the back. Your heart pounded against your ribs, wanting to break free and make a run for it. You take quick breaths, forcing the next to be longer than the last to get yourself to calm down. In the middle of collecting yourself, Mr. Turner walked into the back area with worry knitted on his brow.

“Cass, you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Is there a man in a striped suit in the store?”

He gave you a puzzled look, but left to do a sweep of the store. He came back half a minute later, shaking his head. “No, no one’s in the store dressed like that. What happened?”

“Nothing really. I just saw him in the cemetery and it looked like he was starting to follow me.”

He frowned. “Well, you just come to me if any creep is giving you a hard time. I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”

You manage a smile and nod. You take a few more breaths to calm down before you grab your apron. Things were going to be okay. The guy might not have even seen what store you went into. Heck, that guy probably didn’t even leave the cemetery. And even if he did, Mr. Turner was there to help you out of a tight spot. You smile a little brighter and step out onto the sales floor where you see the stripe suit guy looking at paint chips.

A strangled scream catches in your throat. You step back, dipping back into the employee’s only area of the store before he could see you. What the Hell were you going to do now? You couldn’t hide back there all day.

You push aside the fabric curtain dividing the sales floor from the back, and get a look at the man. With him much closer, you could see his green hair and the distressed look of his suit. He leaned forward, looking over the paint colors. Maybe he didn’t know you were back there. If so, you could wait in the back for a few minutes for him to just leave.

You close the curtain and slip your hands into your apron pockets. Your fingers brush over cool metal, and your thumb flicks up the slider on the side. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly better than nothing. Box cutter in hand, you look back out.

The stranger stayed put in front of the paint colors. You take a shallow breath, prepping yourself to go out. In the middle of psyching yourself up, you see Brandon wander over to the paint section. Hope bubbles up in you. The new guy can take care of him for you.

Brandon scanned over the section. He pushed down some color chips, looked over the desk before looking your way.

“Art! There you are.”

Brandon’s voice bellowed in the small store, not only earning a squeak from you but also causing the stranger to turn and look. You yank the curtain closed, hoping the man in the monochrome stripes didn’t get a good look at you.

Brandon parted the curtain a moment later and looked you over with knit brows and lips in a thin line. “Art, what are you doing back here? I don’t think it looks very professional for an employee to skulk around in the back all day.”

“The guy over at paint followed me from the cemetery.”

Brandon raised a brow at you. “There aren’t any customers in the store, and certainly not in paint, I would have seen them.” He pulled open the curtain with a flourish to reveal the man standing just on the other side. “See, no one’s there.”

Your eyes dart between the idiot holding back the curtain and the green-haired man tilting his head some with a grin plastered on his face. Thought processing came to a crawl as you tried making sense of what you were seeing. Your gaze lands on Brandon in the end.

“You don’t see anyone there?”

He rolled his eyes and looked back out to the sales floor. He then looked back at you with brows knitted further. “No, there’s no one there, Artemis. Perhaps you should stop taking your lunches in the cemetery if they’re just going to put scary thoughts in your head.”

Brandon frowned at you before stepping out onto the sales floor, going right through the man in the striped suit. He stopped to shiver, only to keep walking a second later. Once he left, your wide eyes landed on the man still standing there, still grinning and showing off sharp yellowed teeth.

“Hi there!”

Nope. Nope nope nope. You grab your box cutter and pull it out to point at the guy. And without a word you push aside the curtain more and go around the man. The man whined at your action and followed you.

“Come on babes! Don’t ignore me, I know you can see me!”

You keep walking, heading straight for Mr. Turner. He turns to you at your approach and the small smile fades from his face. “Cass? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The gravelly laugh behind you sent shivers down your spine. You did your best to shake off the feeling and forced a smile.

“I’m not feeling too good. I was hoping I could go home early today.”

His lips sink further into a frown, but he gave you a nod. “It’s fine by me. But what about that man you were talking about that followed you from the cemetery? Are you going to be okay?”

The man behind you continued to laugh. You tighten your hands into fists, the metal of the box cutter pressing hard into the flesh of your hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay Mr. Turner. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and you handed over your apron while keeping the box cutter in hand. You offer one last quick goodbye and head out the door, the bell only chiming once. You march down the sidewalk and hear the strange man continuing to talk.

“So, babes, where are we heading?”

You pause at your car door. You take a few quick breaths and finally respond to this... person. “I’m going home. I’m obviously not feeling well and seeing things that aren’t there.”

You slip into your car and promptly lock all the doors. You heave a sigh and lean against the steering wheel as your brain sorts through all this nonsense. A groan rumbles in your throat and you lean back in your seat. In your peripheral, the man in the striped suit sat in your passenger seat sporting a sharp grin. Well shit.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #roses and styx #my writing

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realcube · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu girls // The Strap - NSFW headcanons

pairings: kiyoko x reader, yachi x reader, saeko x reader

summary: you and your s/o decide to add a bit of spice to your sex so y’all use a strap - the following headcanons are how I think they’ll use it/react..

tw// aged-up au!, (she/her) reader, vagina-having reader, sexual intercourse, strap-ons, WLW sex, fingering, oral (receiving and giving), swearing, exhibition

Kiyoko Shimizu

honestly, you’re both very diplomatic when it comes to deciding who gives and who receives

whenever y’all do it, the mood kinda just decides for itself

however, since both y’all were just blankly staring at the bright pink object that sat in the middle of the bed, Kiyoko figured that she’d take one for the team

also, since it was her who suggested and bought the item, she thought it would only be fair if she gave it try first

so, she guided you through the steps of putting it on while strapping it onto herself

then, once she was done, she bent you over and got to it

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Your eyes rolled back into your head from the unholy mix of ecstasy and pain Kiyoko made you feel. Never before have you felt so full. The way she mastered the smooth plastic toy so it occasionally brushed against your g-spot left you salivating and begging for more - just how she intended. “Kiyoko~” You whined, pushing your face out of the blankets so she could hear your desperate pleas, “M- Muh, More! Please..”

A light pant left Kiyoko’s lip as she retracted one of her hand from your waist to reach down at trace sloppy circles around her clit, but she was a lot more sensitive than she thought she would be so after that small bit of stimulation, she involuntarily tossed her head back and let out a low moan.

That was part of the reason she wanted to refrain from touching herself while pounding into you but the sight of your dripping pussy being stretched out by her strap along with the high-pitch mewls you let out was more than enough to leave her with a throbbing cunt and weak knees.

Without a word, she altered her movements so that she was now thrusting into you at a rapid pace, every movement of her hip directed at the spot you pleaded to be stimulated and upon your request, Kiyoko delivered. However, not without a cost. At this point, your g-spot was getting used and abused so quickly, your body was barely able to keep up.

Lewd wails escaped your throat, your mind clouded with pleasure and euphoria yet you were still conscious enough to notice that the slight vibrating of your thighs could only mean one thing.

Despite the fact you were struggling to breath through all the erotic sensations throughout your body, let alone think - as soon as you felt your orgasm arise, the natural instinct to ask for permission managed to muster up enough energy to allow you to croak out, “May I?”

Kiyoko couldn’t help but giggle, gently caressing you waist with one hand and abandoning her needy clit to attend to your puckered hole. “You’ve been a good girl.” She mused, a low groan falling from her lips as he speed decreased slightly just to tease you. “Go on.”

Her deacceleration barely effected you as by the time those words had reached your ears, you were already halfway through your climax. Bliss shot through your body, sending shivers down your arched spine and to your legs, which was promptly followed by a pornographic moan. “Sh..Shimzu!~”

Upon hearing you finish, Kiyoko slowly pulled out the strap to provide you with some relief before taking it off, throwing it aside and attacking her pussy with her fingers - clearly, she had been left unsatisfied after being aroused by your messy, horny state.

You looked over at her and were simply unable to stifle a giggle. However, you weren’t the one laughing when you tried to stand up to walk over there and help her but then you realised you couldn’t feel your legs. “C’mere.” You commanded, seeming slightly less dominant since you were still panting from when she was railing you just a few seconds ago, “I’ll finish you off.”

Hitoka Yachi

she rarely ever gives and this was no exception

(well, by that I mean she is a bottom but when it comes to giving gifts and stuff she is extra af but that is a whole other headcanon)

in fact, she was actually the one who bought the strap

however, it was now you who inserting it into her

but you both like it that way!

bc she usually hates being on top since she’s always scared that she’ll hurt you or leave you unsatisfied

anyway, you both mutually agreed that you were the top - despite the fact that y’all only do it once every millennium-

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

You finished deciphering the instruction and managed to put the god-forsaken thing on - and the fact that you had little to no hand-to-eye coordination probably didn’t help. ( Throwback to that one time you momentarily pulled out and then when you tried to plug your fingers back in, you accidentally ended up aggressively poking Yachi’s labia.)

“Okay,” You looked up, biting your lip upon seeing Yachi in nothing but lingerie with the dim candle’s lit in the background, making her look heavenly. The character develop - you sighed, recalling the first time y’all had intercourse and she insisted the lights had to be complete off and her oversized shirt and thigh-high socks stayed on. Not that you had a problem with that - in fact, you found it quite charming - but it was just amazing to see how much more confidence she’s gained.

You shook your head in attempt to shake away all the off-topic thoughts, “Are you sure you want me to do this?” You inquired, eyes soft and exchanging a loving gaze with her. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing this.” Although, it was Yachi’s idea to invest in a strap-on but you’d rather be safe than sorry as she might’ve changed her mind since then.

Yachi nodded, her signature sweet yet awkward smile gracing her lip while she fidgeted with the lace on the edges of the red panties she wore. “Oh, yes. I’m sure! I-I’ll be sure to tell you if it’s too much though.” She stuttered, losing her train of thought at the sight of you wearing the article. A deep blush rushed to her cheeks and she tried to stifle a snicker, “Safe-word: ‘waffles’, right?”

Waffles; a parallel to the name of your dog - Pancakes - which Yachi thought was so cute and fun but you - for obvious reasons - felt uncomfortable with her, in any case, screaming your dogs name in bed. So, you changed the word to Waffles.

You hummed in agreement, sending her one last kind smile before a mischievous grin made it’s way onto your face. “Bend over.” You demanded, glancing down to look at the massive piece of shmeat erect on your vagina; you’d by lying if you said it didn’t make you at least the slightest bit uneasy - but you had to push through, for Yachi!

Saeko Tanaka

at this point, you were used to Saeko whipping out the weirdest shit and using it during intercourse

if anything, a strap-on was pretty vanilla and conventional compared to the other things Saeko has used with you

which include (but not limited to): a wooden spoon, a candle, a TV remote, an Xbox controller, a whisk, ice-cubes in the shape of people, a needle, lego brick(s), a sandal, a guitar, a broom, a lava-lamp, a ketchup bottle, a hairbrush, a straightener, multiple bottles of shampoo (since she only uses the tiny bottles that she steals from hotels), her gear stick, a D20 and a pack of instant noodles.

so obviously you were pleasantly surprised when Saeko actually went out and bought a real sex toy instead of just using one of her make-shift ones.

“Only the best for you, princess!”

oh, and this goes without saying, she’s a top

it’s not that you’re a bottom though because you are from it as you’ve attempted to top her on multiple occasions

but it just never goes your way so no matter how dominant and/or persistent you are, you always end up receiving

not that you have a problem with it but- when I say she goes hard, she goes hard

literally she’ll stop whatever she is going if you seem even remotely horny and as soon as you give her consent to go further, it’s game over for you, honey

also, she is very much an exhibitionist so she really doesn’t care if she’s being to loud while her brother/his friends are over

in short, when you saw that bright pink toy lying on her bed sheet especially for you - it didn’t take long for you to realise that you should probably pre-book a few days off from work because you won’t be able to walk for the next week-

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Shut up, babe.” Saeko hissed at you, a evil smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, “They’re studying downstairs.”- not that she cared, she just enjoyed seeing you frustrated. So she couldn’t help but laugh at how much of a mess you were, sweat matting your hair to your forehead, your ass cheeks red from Saeko’s unmerciful palm, your leg twitching as you approached your orgasm and your mouth full of lewd moans being forced shut as Saeko insisted that you quiet down.

Saeko leaned in to whisper suggestive threats into your ear, “If I hear another sound leave that pretty little mouth of your’s, you’ll be punished later.” The tingle of her hot breath against your skin and the implications of what she said just aroused you even more, forcing you to repress your whines..for now.

Honestly, you seriously didn’t know if you could do it as surely, Saeko wasn’t aware of how differently it hit when she used a proper toy - or perhaps she just felt that cruel today. The optimum amount of pleasure you thought she was capable of bringing you was somehow doubled due to the mix of factors: her using a real toy designed to endue pleasure, the impressive balance of attention between your clit and ass, her erotic threats and the fact she was seriously going feral back there.

You were already close but her harsh groping of your ass, licking her fingers to provide the slightest bit of lubricant before sticking 3 digits straight into your strained, dripping cunt while her other hand tightened it’s grip on the back of your neck - all that was enough to tip you over the edge.

You thought you’d be able to ask for permission or at least give a warning before you came but your throbbing clit along with Saeko’s tip violently slamming against your g-spot left you unable to do so, while you attempt sounded a bit like, “I’m gonna- I-” followed by an involuntary, loud moan.

“Don’t you dare-” Saeko snapped teasingly, but obviously unprepared for how loud your moan would actually be - so rather than covering your mouth with her hand, for her own entertainment she slammed into your g-spot once more, this time with more force - leading to you choking on your own noise.

Saeko was used to leaving you out of breath and tired, so while your lay there with your ass up, trying to catch your breath; she took this opportunity to take off the strap (but left it dangling out your pussy since she wasn’t sure if you wanted her to take it out or not) and went to get some aloe-vera for your bright red ass and dark purple bruises on your neck.

“Geez, your pretty lil’ pussy could barely handle that. Maybe we should stick to the ketchup bottles.” She joked, squirting the aloe-vera onto her hands and gently gliding her hands across your lower back.

300 notes · View notes

grim-faux · 3 years

Text

2 _ 31 _ Reflections

First

The rain slapped against the windowsill, the wood soaked entirely and coming apart by slivers as he shifted. For once, he was working at his fingers and not the soft timber. A particularly stubborn splinter between his fingers refused to emerge, so he sat for the time chewing off callouses.

Far below in the alley, a pack of children skittered through the gray mist racing boats in a gutter. It’s a group of what might be four, it's difficult to take full stock from the angle and how indistinguishable the shapes are. He knows they are pack because they play a game together and appear mostly organized. Games help children figure out cooperation and interdependence, it’d let them get a grip on skills, and other important things. Playing a small game could also pull them from the hostile world they inhabited, and… he didn’t know how to put it into speek. Reset their heads. Lessened the fatigue of struggle for survive, distanced them from the uncertainties they dealt with constantly. Such as food and safe shelter. It was free and light.

It would be fun to go out there and meet with the other children. See how they did speek, possibly learn where they came from - if they came from beyond the city or knew nothing but the Pale City. Maybe find out where they planned to go next. Could learn about new dangers or unseen threats. Sometimes kids share foods, but not always, it depended on the situation and how plentiful rations were. He wondered who was winning the game. The boats worked well, bobbing along the deep rapids of the gulley and staying afloat despite the turbulent weather.

Trying to meet other kids wouldn’t be safe. The Thin Man might frighten the child pack or hurt them. Worst could happen, what if chase and turned them into sad little shadows? True, that didn't always happen, but it did happen to Her. And they were not Mono. Not same. The tall thin man was unpredictable, did without reason, does without knowing the why. In all the time he chased the man in the hat, Mono didn't learn much of his ways or whims. Even for him the game was dangerous. Though the tall thin man usually seemed calm and indifferent, it was always very obvious when someone something irritated him. The Thin Man did give fair warning.

He shouldn’t be sitting here watching, but he can’t help it. Even if he can’t pack, he still longed for the together. Share foods and speek, watch for someone and then do sleep. Huddle close when it’s cold, and the weather was punishing. Call for friend, work through a hard puzzle. Trick monsters. The sort of stuff kids did.

The Thin Man keeps Mono, but that is all. The tall thin man is not child, he is the adult. Maybe once a long-long time ago, the man in the hat was child and did hide, flee from danger, and searched for food, or played games. He might’ve had a pack, or not. All of that means nothing, the Thin Man is adult now, and does not understand cardinal laws about the world. He goes where he wants, does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. The man in the hat has no fears. It’s possible he likes keeping Mono because Mono is a strange child with no friends, and Mono couldn't help but chase the Thin Man.

Or could be the Thin Man thought Mono was funny child. Not a good kind of funny, but a mean kind. Like with the feather. Mono was funny and sometimes that made the Thin Man happy, but that didn't make Mono happy. The man in the hat liked the few things about Mono that were same, but that was the extent of Mono's frail grasp. So little about company he could get the knack of, the Thin Man always changed the rules. Then again, the Thin Man didn't quite want Mono to begin with; he barely seemed to accept that Mono was.

The thought was always there, like needing to find foods. Ever present in his mind, nagging when he lost sight of the tall thin man. When the man in the hat left for the fabled "danger-ouse places". This wasn't going to last, and Mono was always nervous when the Thin Man became displeased with his doings.

“Don’t go there.” “You need sleep.” “Not there, child.” “Where are you?” “How did you manage that?” “Spit that out." "No.” “That is a danger.” “I don’t need that.” “No.” “Stop!” “Stay.” “C̷̥͠o̶̜͑m̷̥͗ë̴̬́ ̴͙̂H̶̞͠ȅ̴͓r̵̲̃ḙ̵̓,̸̳̃ ̶͎̅B̴̠̀o̶͈̾y̶͖͘.̸̯̓”

Adults. They get mad at the weirdest things. Like now, Mono was uncertain where the Thin Man was inside the whole building they were exploring. The tall thin man was put off about... something or another, and before Mono could collect his wits (after the bad fall) the man in the hat had already faded in a flashy crackle. No sign or indication where he went. As such, Mono began wandering through the twisting corridors, and sneaking around the rundown rooms barely holding together; mind set on food things while his senses remained on full alert.

The Thin Man seemed more broody than the adults normal, and inclined the quiet, dark glare onto Mono a few times. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, what the tall thin man searched for. It had been some while since Mono saw a smile; not while they strolled through the dismal roads, or broken walls into washed out building interiors. They wandered some long while, the tall thin man might be tired like Mono was. Even if lie and said he wasn't to rest, Mono knew better. The dream haunts got the better of him, despite Mono's best efforts. The Thin Man did not do a good job of look after himself.

If he could find something interesting, the Thin Man would tell him about it. Maybe. Some things he didn’t like to tell Mono about, but other times Mono could find him a new thing. An interesting thing, which the Thin Man would just tell him all about. Sometimes use the big speek, and Mono would be lost in the rumbling buzz. But it was a good sort of lost.

That task was hard yet. Not much interested the Thin Man. He liked his game, and Mono was glad not to be alone. They both got something from the company. A win.

Dull vibrations pulsed in the back of his thoughts, demanding Mono pry his focus from the window, with the children so far away. He dropped off the sill and hurried across the decrepit room, aimed for one doorway wherein the already challenged radiance flashed and dimmed. In short time he reached the portal, right when the figure bent shuffled into the room.

“Did you get to eat?” The man in the hat stood straight and rubbed at his back.

Mono rubbed at his own back. When the Thin Man gave him a look, he stopped the motion and shook his head. He showed his empty hands and frowned. If there had been food, the Thin Man would’ve gotten something too.

With a rustling sigh, the Thin Man resumed his listless stride. To his relief, the man in the hat dismissed the window, and in a distorted flicker, abandoned the room entirely. Before the bulbs winked out in the ceiling, Mono made haste to reach the connecting passage. Soon, he would only have the delicate rap of the Thin Man's heels to offer direction. If the wiring didn't work or fizzled out completely due to the Thin Man's presence, he really had to rely on his hearing and the feel of the air. Mono fancied he was becoming pro at that, regardless the frequent bump or stumble over obscure junk.

The prolonged search resulted in no meaningful results, nothing worthwhile - aside from more of the same rot, the typical invasion of insects chewing through whatever couldn't crawl away. Mono plucked at the edge of his choice hat, trying to pretend his stomach wasn't growling about the injustice of all this. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was that he last ate. Let alone when. It wasn't important, but it annoyed him thinking he'd gone so long without something.

Probably why he couldn't stop chewing on his fingers.

"Don't do that. Get your hand away from your mouth."

When the Thin Man leaned through the next doorway, Mono stalled long enough to stick his tongue at the hunched figure. He didn't want to chew on the bandage, the wrapping was set cozy and right, and neat. A good sum of time elapsed since his last incident, best not to get the Thin Man all riled up over minor hurts. Mono wanted to avoid another episode.

By the ground level of the building, the two returned to the endless storms via a collapsed portion of wall. Thankfully, the Thin Man ventured through roads that lay open and mostly whole, fluttering as a wispy shadow among chunks of ruble evicted off the warped high-rises. The man in the hat's travel was never restricted, not like Mono was. A chasm wasn’t a frightening void to the tall thin man; he could blink out and appear on the other side. For Mono in his unrefined capacity, he always had to search out a way across. And FAST. The tall thin man wasn't prone to wait or call.

Sometimes, the man in the hat did offer to carry Mono, but Mono was frightened by the idea and shied away from the offered hand. What if he was dropped or fell, or any number of things? Mono liked to have something solid under his feet, or in his grasp. The Thin Man was always dissatisfied with the response, but it was a rare time when he didn’t grab Mono. They could always search for another way. The city sprawling held no shortage of paths or crevices, ladders or suspicious braided blanket ropes dangling. Mono was a crafty boy - if he was permitted the time, he would find a clever route. All while ignoring the Thin Man's baleful glower. Like the tall thin man, Mono didn't need anybody. He could go anywhere on his own.

It is a very long excursion of the city roads, twisted alleys, roving within the buckling walls of splintered skyscrapers crumbling brick by brick. None of the rooms of the many locations offered anything, aside from maybe a new child's hat or intriguing artifact. The rain prattled constantly, sometimes low roads are swamped by the converging 'rivers'. In some durations the travel is intense, but Mono is never dissuaded. Nothing would stop him. The Thin Man sought cached passages through the ruble of buildings, or utilized the televisions to reach a whole other section of the city. The Thin Man was always first, only because he isn’t a television serial murderer.

Mono tried to catch himself when he flew out. The television is atop a low table and he tumbled, nearly breaking his wrist. The Thin Man is already moving, and Mono doesn't waste a second to catch up. The building isn’t in that bad of shape, compared to those they passed through from the other side of the screen. The walls at least look whole in this room, and it’s much warmer, not so damp or drafty. Maybe shelter here? The man in the hat always decided.

The Thin Man opened a door, which led into a large corridor with branching archways and impervious shade beyond each. Flashing and glitching the tall figure reappeared, bypassing the first two entries. In his wake, Mono emerged from the doorway, straying near the wall. When he didn't follow immediately, the Thin Man stopped and looked back.

Mono idled along the wall trailing the peeling wallpaper with his hand, ever cautious when peering into the first open portal he passed. As suspected, perpetual depths greeted his eyes. He angled his gaze up and up at the stony silhouette, his current hat hiding most of his face. With barely a click in his step, the Thin Man pivoted and resumed his elected course. While Mono ducked into the next doorway, down a flight of steps and toward another corridor barely perceivable, if not for the bulb framing the walls with a gray haze. Not long, he would be back. The man in the hat wouldn't miss him.

The jingle from televisions carried along the enclosed stairwell, all the while Mono stumbled. Beyond the depressed gleam of radiance, more doors and maybe another passage further along. An intermix jabber of voices stacked in conversation, rambling speek with no meaning, and other melodies crooned out. Among the cacophony of swirled sounds, a Viewer burbled at the television it gaped at.

Most the doors he couldn't bother with, even if he was confident to shift through the wood panel, Mono still preferred to conserve his energy. He couldn't be certain if he would have the vigor to pop back through, given how famished he was. It limited his search, but the scout wouldn't go far if he got stranded somewhere. Much of his searching was reserved for bare-open dwellings, and likely areas long abandoned and long looted of worthwhile treats. If a residency appeared quiet and the door could be opened, he’d invite himself in. Foremost, he kept a lookout for foods, but he didn’t want to get distracted.

The self-imposed quest was mostly focused in the rooms with beds and dressers, not the kitchens - not yet. The rooms would harbor castoff things from a world abandoned, a world detached from the one he knew so well. On top of dressers or on nightstands, he might locate something he’d never seen before. However, many of the trinkets couldn’t hold his interest or didn’t reveal enough upon first examination, to really spur the risk to haul it to the Thin Man. He wanted to find another one of the bulb things with the toy inside, since that seemed interesting for a try.

In the big living room of one residence, he did find a remote! Something he’d searched for endlessly, especially now since lone televisions seemed prone to shut off while the Thin Man was around. The Thin Man didn’t like Mono looking at the devices, unless he was watched. Bleh.

Also lingering around was a Viewer, plastered to the television and gurgling. Needing a break from all the pointless wandering, Mono perched on a tall desk table and hit the switch, causing the television to blink out. This of course, annoyed the Viewer. With a shriek it swung around and searched for the source of this outrage. How DARE! Before it could lock onto him, near invisible in the shadows, Mono would give it back its stupid television. He just wanted to have a little fun for a bit, no harm.

This went on and on, the Viewer wailing each time the television powered off, Mono seeing how far he was willing to let it get without the willies getting to him. The nice thing about Viewers was the predictability, despite how obsessed they were. And creepy. As long as he had the remote, everything would be fine-

Unless the controller switch stopped… working. Right when he shut the thing off, and the Viewer had gotten a few paces too many away from its precious entertainment box.

Yeah it was a really dumb game, but he’d not had fun like that in a while. At least he had a head start, racing out of the room and shooting down into a crawlspace beneath the floorboards of one room. He really mourned the loss of the remote, he could have used that later.

The lower floors still held together mostly, which meant he should be extra careful while exploring around. There wouldn’t be openings or breaks he could dive into if trouble reared up, but he wasn’t seeing too many of the Viewers either, despite the singing televisions. He was also a little lost, creeping from one dwelling to the next, all the corridors felt the same despite erosion in the surface and carpet. He was thinking it would be a good time to try retracing his steps, before he became too lost. He was sure the upper floors could be reached, even without the stairwell – planks of wood in the crumbling wall or anything, if he searched hard enough.

In one of the smaller rooms he did a last search of, he encountered some child standing off to the side. Their presence startled him so much, and they looked just about as terrified by his intrusion, he back peddled and floundered over his own feet. He snatched up his hat and managed to lurch into a run, shooting through the break in the lower portion of the door and fleeing down the winding hall.

Only to freeze up when the Thin Man dipped under the threshold leading into the very corridor he was in. For lack of direction, Mono swayed back and forth.

“Hey.”

The Thin Man gave him a look, intense eyes glittering beneath the bill of his hat. He was chewing on one of those burn sticks.

“What is it? Stumble onto a hazard?” he posed.

Mono tipped his head, unsure how to go about this. “N’t good. No safe.” And then he stood there like a dolt, trying to hide his eyes a bit beneath the lip of his hat. “Foods?” He began to panic internally, when the Thin Man approached. Not looking at him, but glaring at the broken door just behind him.

“No! NoNoNoNo!” He tried to get in the tall figures way, but the man in the hat just stepped over him. A soured ache formed in his gut, he wanted to stop the Thin Man but also could see himself getting knocked aside or hurt if he was more careless. “No! No!”

“For the last time, there is nothing to fear while in my presence,” he grumbled. “I won't tolerate this. Wait there!” With a snap of his wrist the door creaked open, and in a deep bow the man in the hat vanished, winking out in a distorted shadow. A long and eerie pause followed.

Mono pressed his hands over his eyes and backed away. What did he do to children that were not Mono? Some sleeps the phantom screech She made woke him up. He never heard her do speek like that. A sad little shadow. He didn’t want to hear anyone else scream like that. He wanted to stop the Thin Man, but he was afraid! A cowered! He kept backing away from the void that now existed beyond the doorway. Sorry! He was sorry! He ran away! He tried....

“Mono.” The Thin Man called, from within. Sounding distant and haunting. “Come here.”

“What!” he challenged, without a thought. What did the Thin Man want to show him? Did he plan to make an example of the child? Or, did they escape? He hoped they got out.

Once more, the Thin Man beckoned. “Come here. Now.” When Mono failed to inspire his legs into moving, the Thin Man provided ample motivation. “Î̸̪̜̐̚ ̶͎̲̘̊̆̈́̎̊̊W̶̨̙͓͂̓̽͝i̵͓͖̖̰̞̒͛́̽͜͝l̶͎͚̼͙̐̋̅̿͝l̶̩͇̯̱̋ ̴͈̰̺̑̈́͜Ṅ̷̛̬̜͑̾̕͠o̷̫̭͗̃̅͆̕͝t̷̗͎͖̏̿̉ ̷̱̫̜̠̎̇̈̂̕Č̵͍͚̒̏̌̋a̴̦̤̙̹͌̔̆̆͒͝l̷̩͖͈̈́̐͒l̸͙͚͖̤̫̮̈̍͒͠ ̴͕̗̩͓̳̟̕ Ȁ̸͎̜̫͍̫̠̆̽g̷͇̙͋a̶̢̯̻̋̉i̴̗̣̭̩̒͊́̚ṅ̴̮͉̿̓͘͠.”

He shuffled towards the doorway, gut tightening the closer he moved to the gaping entry. What was waiting? Would the Thin Man have the child in his grip, struggling and terrified by his uncertain fate? Or would the other kid be cringing in a corner, white with terror? If the man in the hat wanted him to do... something, he would flee. He would!

When Mono finally inched his way hrough the threshold, his eyes locked immediately on the towering figure standing by the wall. A little flutter of relief swirled in his chest, upon spying both of the long arms crossed over the narrow chest. That relief almost popped, when the Thin Man settled his gaze on him. He tugged the sides of his hat down around his face.

“There’s no need to be frightened,” he crackled. “It was only your reflection.”

Baffled, Mono shifted his gaze aside and searched. Reflection? He nearly jolted backwards when he spied the child again, instead, this time he stumbled. What was that! The other child appeared flabbergasted as well as lost. What was this?! No, wait… they were wearing his hat. That was His HAT!

He kept his distance, glaring. The other child followed his lead. Perfectly mimed. This was very confusing and disconcerting, to have a someone imitate him so perfectly. Something was wrong here.

“You’ve never seen a real mirror before, have you?” He felt like the Thin Man was mocking him again. Before he realized anything is afoot, he’s being pressed forward by a hand. “It won’t hurt you. Have a look.”

“No….” Mono tugged the hat down fully over his face, but couldn’t get away from the grasp insisting he address this other fake Mono. He dug his toes into the dirty carpet trying to press back, until the forceful hand withdrew. He collected himself and tugged his hat up, fully prepared to retreat… but he was nearly at the doppelganger. Could make out the color of his coat, the details of his hat, his very dour and annoyed expression.

It was like staring into a window, and someone you’ve never seen before looked back. But he knew them from somewhere. The surface was a bit dusty, the edges tinged with corrosion, but for the most part the window was intact. They were separated. He crept in closer and closer, teetering on the fringe of flight. The closer he moved, the more defined and clear the outlines of the other child became in the dull light.

Reaching out cautiously, his palm slapped the cold barrier. Solid. He gazed at the other face gawking back, and very slowly reached up. The copy mimicked faithfully, as he pushed the hat off his head. He tried to recall a time when he had viewed himself in such utter clarity, but had nothing. Unless to check for an injury or something, seeking a reflective surface was redundant. Finding a surface that offered anything but distorted complexions, was something else entirely. He never really stopped to look at himself, take in the face the world hated.

“It’s you,” the Thin Man rumbled.

“T’s me. Aam Mono,” he hummed. Tentatively, he reached up and touched at his hair, pushed it one way then parted it the other, ruffled the clumpy strands. He tugged at his ears, studying the curls and overall form. Then, mushed at his cheeks and tugged at his lips, made some faces. So that’s what those looked like. He had to look at his teeth, see the crazy gap the missing tooth made. Neat! The spot in his gum looked ugly but didn't hurt. He twirled around, admiring the fantastic coat and all its stitch work. The collar was bent, so he fixed that. Overall, he was a very good looking Mono.

A little higher in the window surface, he could observe the Thin Man. Smiling.

“Come? Look.” He leaned away from the glossy pane, peering up at the man in the hat. Who was no longer smiling.

“No. I’d rather not… tarnish the reflection.”

Mono returned his attention to the mirror Mono and looked aside. This didn’t count as anything that would make the Thin Man happy. He sat for a moment and nibbled his fingers, having a think. He was… already bored with the mirror, too. The novelty wore off before he knew it. He was still Mono, the world still hated him. The mirror couldn't tell him why. But....

“Same,” he murmured. Touching his cheek. “N’same.” He turned to the Thin Man and curled his fingers around his eyes. He offered a smile.

“That we do.”

The response kind of caught Mono. But the man in the hat knew everything already, and then didn’t say. “Reason?”

The Thin Man exhaled a thread of smoke. And shrugged. Otherwise, no explanation or insight was given. Not even an excuse.

“See… n’me you?”

Another sigh, but the Thin Man sighed wouldn’t look at Mono. “Saw some of me, in you.”

“Oh.” He was glad there wasn’t a child in this room. This wasn’t much better, but at least no one else got hurt. He tugged at a thread in the roll of his pant leg. “Tell story?” He is a little disappointed when the Thin Man turned away and bent under the doorframe.

“No, this is not the time nor place for silly stories.”

Mono snapped up his hat and climbed to his feet, rushing after the gradually retreating figure. “But story?” He hastened his pace to stay beside the Thin Man, bouncing or skipping between every two or three steps.

“You won’t like the story, I can tell you that. One day though, it will be your story, and it will hurt.” A trail of smoke left his lips.

Hurt? So many queries blossomed within his thoughts. Was there a fix? A way to stop hurt? The Thin Man knew, but couldn't fix. Though maybe....

“But… same, be'fer t'hide. And t'flee. Then you, w’th me. Do t's together....” The Thin Man ceased walking and gave him a full on glare. Mono staggered sideways, halting his panicked speek. This wasn’t good. Asking questions wouldn’t work, and the Thin Man didn’t like repeating himself.

“M’sorry,” Mono mumbled, smothering his words. The man in the hat didn't like the S speek. “Rr’sad? N’yu not say, f'hurt?” He inched closer to the Thin Man’s shoes and raised his arms. If he wanted to, the Thin Man could hold him. Getting snared or clutched frightened him, the mood of the tall thin man was always strange and mystery, Mono never really knew what might happen. But it might make the man in the hat feel better. That too was an unknown.

Instead, the Thin Man bent over and ruffled his hair. “Never mind that. Let’s move along, I do not believe there will be much food in this place.”

Mono is still put off by the dismissiveness, but he shouldn’t have pushed. He wanted answers, but the Thin Man wasn’t happy in speek about those sort of tricky topics. He liked explaining other boring trivial pieces, but not when it came to the important questions. Her. The Tower. Other children. Sad little shadows. The bits and pieces of a different world, with different pictures, and different meanings. It could be like dream haunts, it was taboo to ask friends about them. That seemed like a valid reason, despite how it burned up in Mono to know more, anything. So much same in Mono, but wouldn't utter why. Could other children... be....

The tall figure renewed his fluid stride, exhaling a stream of vapor as he went. Mono plopped his hat on and followed, as usual. In silence, as typical. Questions hovered in his mind but for now he would stash them aside, until a safer time. Perhaps when they settled in a calm and good area, then the tall thin man would want to do share speek. Could be interested if Mono copied picture speek from a book, and made a different sort of book? That seemed like a fun idea, and then, he could show the Thin Man how to make it work. Even if the Thin Man knew everything already, it would be happy to pretend he found something new for the Thin Man.

The Thin Man maybe only kept Mono because of all the same. Too much of the same, or maybe not enough. He couldn’t really figure out anything of why, the man in the hat did what he did. All of anything he did, was for himself. Yet, he made Mono a part of that, and that was okay. No one else wanted Mono.

He thought though, that the Thin Man’s lip twitched. He wasn’t sure what he did, but it faded the more he persisted with queries. Mono asked the hard questions, the ones that made the man in the hat dig for something... else. A place where the answers lay, beneath the questions, shrouded by the purpose of doing a something. The Thin Man didn't like giving answers or reasons, because like dream haunts, he had to find where the answers came from. The Thin Man was a strange and troubled adult, brimming with dark thoughts alongside the difficult unknowns. Adults would always be hostile and angered by anything that didn't belong, but the Thin Man wasn't like that. He was mostly just grumpy.

#little nightmares #mono #the thin man #thin dad #little nightmares fanfic #little nightmares fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #mono nearly failed the mirror test #hes never see an HD mono before

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thatkidwhodreams · 4 years

Text

The Lie

Chapter Three

Masterlist

Chapter Two

Warnings: An awful lot of swearing

You heard shuffling in you and Shawn’s bedroom and immediately you started to panic. You looked to the side of the bed where Shawn was supposed to be and he was gone. This couldn’t be good you thought. You had a thing where you always thought the worst out of every situation.

You grabbed your slippers off the floor and put each one in one hand as you walked down the stairs. You were very cautious and made sure to keep the lights off so the attacker would think you were still asleep and you’d catch them by surprise and throw slippers at them.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs your head snapped and you were certain with a little more force you would’ve broken your neck. You tiptoed around the bottom floor and once you found nothing you turned the lights on and let out a high sigh of relief.

You did a little victory dance because you didn’t die, but you heard a small voice coming from outside so you put your slippers back on and went to check it out. Your inquisitive ass stepped out in the cold towards the back of the house you saw an angry looking Shawn talking to someone over the phone.

“What the fuck? Nope that’s not happening.” You heard some murmuring before Shawn bid goodnight to the person in the most sarcastic way possible.

You being the curious girl you were, you asked Shawn “who was on the phone? And why were you so angry?”

Shawn dismissed that question and said “it’s 3am babe why aren’t you in bed? Never mind let’s go.”

He grabbed your wrist and was speed walking towards the house as if someone was chasing him but he had too much pride to run for his life. When the door opened you headed back into bed and turned the lights off. It wasn’t up to 10 minutes of science when you decided to ask Shawn a question.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s got you so riled up?” He grunted and turned over to the other side of the bed, avoiding you. You swore it was like talking to a brick wall sometimes. You sighed and pulled the covers over you as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

During the last few minutes of consciousness you felt Shawn grab your waist and snuggle into your neck as he put his leg over yours and kissed your cheek as you slept.

The moment your eyes opened you rolled over to find the bed empty again. “That fucking bastard! One day I’ll leave him and he will know how it feels.” You got up and completed your usual morning routine. You walked downstairs towards the sofa, laid on it and stared at the ceiling.

You thought about the weirdest things like Shawn being a celebrity with many girls writing fictional stories about being with him. As soon as it got to that stage you knew you were going crazy and picked up the phone to call Sofia.

She picked up on the third ring and said “what’s up hoe?” You giggled and sighed.

“Nothing much I’m just overthinking again. I haven’t done that in a while.”

“Girl, you know you can tell me anything. What have you been thinking about? What life would be like without me?” You laughed really hard at that and started coughing before you composed yourself.

“Bitch you wish! Anyway Shawn has really been acting strange lately and leaving all the time. I don’t know if I should be worried.” You said in a melancholy manner.

“Sis it’s probably nothing. Men can be such weirdos sometimes and a lot of the time they have nothing to do with their lives.”

“Yeah you’re probably right. He was a little angry in the middle of the night. Someone managed to rule him up over the phone so I won’t be surprised if that motherfucker went for a jog or something to clear his head.”

“See it’s best you left him alone for a while. If I were you I’d give him the silent treatment because I’d never be okay with that.”

You knew she was speaking straight facts. You would never just be okay with Shawn leaving and not give him a taste of his own medicine. You nodded and said a quick “yeah, thank you” before ending the call.

Hours later Shawn came back sweating and instead of getting off the sofa and greeting him like you would usually do, you turned the Tv on and put the volume on high.

Shawn came into the living room and said a quick “hello” before heading upstairs where he showered, got changed and came back downstairs.

The bastard had the audacity to sit next to you on the sofa and kiss your cheek. You grunted and shifted away from him a little. His eyebrows furrowed and he proceeded to move closer to you but you held your hand out and he got the hint that he needed to stay where he was.

“Babe, are you mad at me?” He asked. He stood up and kneeled in front of you whilst doing his signature puppy dog eyes.

You turned away from him, picked up your phone and called Cade who you hadn’t spoken to in a while. Like Sofia he picked up rather quickly. As the phone rang you put your hand on Shawn’s face, shoved him to the side and went into the bathroom downstairs where you knew he wouldn’t bother you.

“Hey motherfucker, so you finally decided that today is the day you remember me huh?” You just had to smile.

“I’m sorry, I had to call you because I trust you as well as Sofia but I feel like I’ve loaded all my problems on that bitch.”

“Aww babes tell me what’s happened” Cade says in a dramatic way.

You begin to rant about the strange disappearance of Shawn and how he’s always got strange excuses when you ask him where he’s been. Cade pays attention to every single word you utter from your mouth and you swear you hear him nodding and gasping like your life was a drama series.

“Okay bitch are- are you done?”

You take a deep breath and say “yes I’m done, thanks for listening to all that.”

“You know what we’re going to do? WE ARE HEADING TO THE FUCKING CLUB AND WE AIN’T GON TELL NOBODY!”

You smiled knowing a night at the club would be exactly what you need. So you got out of the bathroom and headed to the living room and up the stairs but not before noticing the way Shawn looked up after his hands had been in his hair.

You chuckled and headed over to your room where you got dolled up and put on your favourite outfit with your cherry red heels. You walked down the stairs, grabbed your coat and headed for the door.

As you touched the door knob Shawn asked “Y/N where are you goin-” but you had shut the door on him and walked straight out and headed over to what was technically now Cade’s house where the other half of your stuff was.

You opened the door and saw Cade staring at you already dressed with his legs crossed and a glass of wine in one hand. “Hello bitch, you sure as hell took your bitch ass time come on let’s fucking go.” Cade put his glass of wine down, grabbed your hand and headed to his car.

“CLUB HERE WE FUCKING COME!”

You both got inside the car but before Cade start led the car he looked at you, sighed and asked “what’s on your fucking mind now. I want some alcohol so spill”

“How do you know I’ve got something on my mind?”

“It is clear on your ugly ass face now tell me what you’re thinking about or we ain’t leaving and if we don’t go you owe me some money.”

You rolled your eyes and laid back into the car seat. “I’m just really worried that something is wrong, it took hours for Shawn to get back from his jog. Who takes that long to go jogging?! I didn’t care at the time because I was pissed, but now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Cade looked at you and hummed whilst nodding his big head. “Maybe he was more angry than you thought. Hot men like him need a lot of time to cool off. Speaking of hot men we need to get going so I still have time to grab one.” He rubbed your back, kissed your cheeks and put the vehicle into ignition.

“WE BOUT TO TURN UP!”

A/N: Hmmm...what do you guys think Shawn is up to? A lot of you guys keep messaging me asking when I’m going to update and sending in your weird theories. I have to say I’m very surprised but it makes me happy. I finished this a lot earlier than I expected but for some reason I feel like it’s not good enough and it’s a little short. I actually shed some tears whilst writing this because I forgot what was going on but it’s okay I remembered eventually, thank goodness I voice recorded the storyline😂. Tell me what you think, remember feedback is always appreciated I don’t bite❤️.

#Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes #shawn mendes x y/n #the lie

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shadowofthelamp · 3 years

Text

Freak

Teen Tulip and Twix get into a fight.

Wordcount: 1250

Twix’s boots squealed on the tile like a hog being slaughtered as she pivoted. It was mostly squeaky clean, except for the tiny particles of dirt stuck to her steel-tipped boots. She’d told the computer to not watch the upper level for a few hours, she’d get into the elevator when she needed him. She wanted privacy. Her phone burned in her pocket. Not literally, she had a Mem-brand one that wouldn’t overheat unless she tried to get it to calculate pi like last time, but metaphorically.

“T?” Tulip’s knocks on the door were hesitant. “Can I come in?”

Twix didn’t answer, for a moment. Let her stew. She hated feeling guilty, right? Had bemoaned about it to Twix, how it was just awful to have that feeling of lead and bile in her stomach, heavy and thick like rotted oatmeal clumped together into a brick.

“Yeah, you can come in.”

The door opened. “Are your dads home?”

Twix shook her head. “They’re somewhere out in space. I’ve got the place to myself for a few days.”

“Oh, maybe we could check out how many places we could go in the holosim room!” Her hands were folded neatly, but pressed together so hard that they were shaking. She was very, very good about having the appearance of poise.

“Why would you want to do that?” Twix folded her arms, tilting her head, knowing that her eyes were completely hidden and her goggles were reflecting Tulip’s cracking façade back at her.

“But- but you always liked that.” What little smile she had was falling to pieces, dead leaves splintering off a withering growth and spiraling down to the ground.

“Sure I do. But why would you want to do that?”

“Because... I like it too? Twix, what’s going on? You’re usually so forward.”

“Never had a reason not to be. Either people like me, or they get the fuck out of my way. And you don’t seem to want to be around me.” Twix took a step forward to meet Tulip in the center of the room, then another, taking every inch from the molt and holding it over Tulip’s widening eyes. She’d thrown on another sweater to keep her wings from buzzing.

Tulip swallowed. “Tell me what this is about or I’m leaving.”

“Casey and Batt. Fourth period.”

Tulip sucked in a breath, before shaking her head. “Wait, how did you even hear that? I thought you were banned from the third floor!”

“I am, but Ms. Johnson moved up to there after the roof collapsed on the science room, so I’m allowed to go to her class.”

“Really? You weren’t just trying to spy on me again?” Tulip straightened herself up.

“No! We agreed, during school hours-”

“We agreed that you needed to knock it off entirely, Twix!” Tulip chewed on her lip, and Twix threw up her arms.

“Oh, now you’re going to cry, right when I need to actually talk to you about something serious?”

“This is serious, Twix!” Tulip tugged her shawl tighter around herself, like it was a shield against alien cooties. “I feel like you have no idea what privacy is, you showed up in my room once! At 10 at night!”

“I said I was sorry, I thought you’d be happy because you said you’d had such a shitty time that day!”

Breathe. Remember what the counselor said.

Twix sucked in a breath, then let it out. “This isn’t about me. I fucked up before but I’m trying to work on it, but this is about you blatantly shit-talking me.”

“You must have misheard.”

“I wouldn’t have stopped if I hadn’t heard my name. I like to know what people are saying about me, just to see how much stuff gets blamed on the school boogieman. It’s good for a laugh, usually, because they’re generally a bunch of idiots, but imagine my surprise when I hear it’s you.” Twix flexed her fingers in and out, claws nearly snagging the fabric on the palms of her hands.

“I was trying to defend you, I was just repeating back what they’d said to get the story straight.”

“It sure didn’t sound like it.” Twix’s voice fractured, just a bit. “Freak sounds so much worse when it’s coming from you. Especially when you add stalker onto it. Nobody else did that.”

“It’s true. You can’t say it’s not, Twix.”

“Maybe it is, but you don’t just... just...” Twix yanked at her antennae, feeling even the short one twinge with the pain. “I’m trying! I don’t know how any of this works, and I’m trying, and I love you so bad and I want to show it but I don’t know how!”

“And I’m supposed to just fix you?” Tulip snapped. “You terrify me sometimes, I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, not your babysitter! Most of us had to figure this stuff out years ago, I’m not going to hold your hand while you figure out how to be a person!”

“Then can you at least not make everyone think that I’m going to murder you in your sleep? They all avoid me enough!”

“You’ve never worried about that kind of stuff before, I didn’t think you’d care!” Tulip swallowed. “Come on, Twix, it’s not that big a deal...”

“Yeah, it kind of is! I hear mutant freak enough, but-” Her voice cracked again, and she coughed to cover it. “Why do you even care so much? Why does their opinion matter more than me?”

“They’re nice kids, I don’t want them not liking me because-”

“Because you associate with me. Because I’m that poisonous.” Twix’s voice settled at a low growl, low enough in her throat that it was certainly irken. “Why did you ever even agree to date me, if you want to hide that so badly?”

“I- I don’t want to hide, but-”

“But? But what?” Twix’s antennae laid low against her skull. “But you just don’t want anyone to know that you actually care about me? Or but you just don’t have the guts to break up? Fine, I’ll make it easy for you: If you find it so easy to just talk behind my back-”

“It’s not that simple!” Tulip burst out. “I’m not as confident as you, you know that, it was just to get them to like me, you’ve never cared what anyone else thought of you, how was I supposed to know that you’d hear it?”

“So you’d say it if I didn’t hear it?”

“Yes- no!”

“That was a yes.”

“You tricked me into it, I meant no!”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did!”

Twix grit her teeth. “How am I supposed to trust you if you’ll just- just do that?”

“How am I supposed to drop my whole social life because you can’t help being the weirdest person in school?” Tulip shot back. “I do care about you, but it’s so, so hard sometimes, because you just don’t know how to act, and sometimes I’m sick of waiting for you to play catchup just because your parents are the town freaks!” She slapped her hands over her mouth and took a step back.

Twix’s eye twitched under her goggles. “At least they’re freaks that love me. I’ll see you tomorrow, third period.”

“Twix-”

“I said,” Twix said through gritted teeth, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get out before I reactivate the security.”

Tulip got out, and Twix buried her face in a couch pillow and screamed.

#tulix #tulip #twix #aip #shadow writes stuff #iz blogging #iz

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remembering-jalex · 6 years

Text

Fanfic (Brendon Urie X Reader)

Hey loves! I’m back for round three with a new story. I really hope you enjoy! Strap in, this is a bit longer than my usual stuff. <3

Warning: light cursing :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The faint laugh of your boyfriend fills your ears. God, his laugh is so adorable. Brendon's laughter suddenly ceases, followed by a quick "what the fuck?". You closed your book and set it on the end table next to where you were sitting. You stood up and briskly walked up the stairs.

"Whatcha laughin' about?" you say as you plop yourself on the foot of your bed.

"Just reading fanfic about myself. People get really into it. Don't get me wrong, some of it is extremely well written, but others are the weirdest fuckin' shit I've ever read," he says, eyes still staring at his phone screen.

You blush slightly. You, in your teenage years, had a blog dedicated to writing fanfic about band members. You may have written two or three stories about Brendon before you two had met. Your blog was actually quite popular. You stopped writing and posting on it after you met Brendon.

"Can I look at some of it?" you ask, genuinely curious about how vulgar it would be, or how cliche it would be.

"Sure," Brendon says scooting over, making a place for you next to him. You shift over to lay next to his side, molding into him. You look over at his phone and begin reading.

You focus on reading, or at least trying to. You caught Brendon staring at you every so often out of the corner of your eye. You carried on, though this fic seemed familiar. What were you talking about? Most fanfic is similar in many ways. Wait, your remember that line of dialogue. It was the same line your best friend had helped you come up with.

Oh for fuck's sake. It couldn't be. Could it?

You read on, hoping it was just a feeling of nostalgia. Nope. It wasn't. This was your fic you had written years ago. You blush fiercely. This was so embarrassing. It's not like Brendon knew it was written by you, but it still made you feel rattled.

"What's wrong?" Brendon says, making you jump slightly. You were so lost in thought, you almost forgot he was right there.

"Oh- um, nothing!" you say flustered.

"Are you sure? You're as red as a tomato."

"Yes! I mean, yes. I'm totally fine. Let's just keep reading." Well damn, you mentally cursed yourself. You made it so obvious that something was bothering you.

"Alright then," he says with a quick chuckle before shaking his head lightly.

You and Brendon keep reading for a while. The nostalgia hitting you like a ton of bricks. You forgot how long this story was. And to be totally honest, it wasn't bad at all. The plot was good and dialouge was well written. You remember your passion for writing, and after you abandoned the blog, you let go of it. You haven't written in years. Hopping up quickly from your spot next to Brendon, your body immediately misses the warmth.

"What do you want for dinner?" you ask, pulling your hair up into a loose half bun.

"Um, how about pasta?" he inquires.

"Like pesto?"

"Uh hell yeah. Your's is the best."

"Why, thank you kind sir." You curtsey and turn on your heel, marching toward the kitchen. You pull out the ingredients and begin making dinner.

Dinner is done in around thirty minutes. What can you say? You're a pro by now at making this recipe. You scoop some of the pasta into two bowls and you sit the them on the table. Brendon comes skipping down the stairs, landing in the chair at the dining table. You grabs some forks and join him.

You both eat in silence, but not an awkward one, more like a comfortable silence. You could do that with Brendon. You both were just naturally comfortable with each other.

"So," Brendon says making eye contact with you, "what was with you being weird earlier?"

You begin to choke on your pasta, entering a coughing fit. You take a swig of water and are finally able to breathe again.

"What do you mean? I wasn't being weird."

"You were clearly acting odd up there, Y/N. Don't play dumb. You can tell me what's wrong."

"It's really nothing. I promise," you say as you stuff your mouth with more pasta.

"If you don't feel comfortable reading those stories, I won't. I could see how it bothered you."

"It's not that, well, kinda."

"Elaborate."

"Ok, don't think I'm a freak, ok?"

"Ok."

"Promise?"

"I promise," he says with a slight chuckle, trying to lighten up the situation.

"So," you say trying to muster up some courage, "a long time ago, like a LONG time ago, I had a blog. That blog was dedicated to bands." You mentally slap yourself. Why are you telling him this? Brendon nods his head, signalling for you to continue. "And I might've wrote some fanfic about bands. And maybe I wrote a couple about you. But I promise you, it was before we even met!"

Brendon begins to fall in a fit of laughter. Was he freaked out? Or did he genuinely think it was funny? Hopefully it was the second option.

"So," he says between laughs, "lemme guess!" He laughs a bit more before continuing. "That one we read together- it was yours?" He can barely say it without laughing. Was it that bad? Was your writing that laughable? It was only written a few years ago.

"Um, yeah," you say shyly, rubbing your arm. You've never felt so insecure in your life. You felt so small. You slightly sink in your chair, watching Brendon laugh hysterically. You've had enough. Quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin, you run to the bathroom, tears threatening to spill over.

"Y/N? Wait!" you hear Brendon call behind you. His voice still has a light giggle to it. It's too late by the time he gets there. You're already slamming the door and locking it behind you.

You let out a sigh, letting some tears fall. You hear a slight pounding on the door followed by a murmur of curse words. You splash your face with cold water a few times, hoping to make your face look less red. You open the door after composing yourself and walk straight to your room, ignoring Brendon right on your heels.

You throw yourself on the bed and pull the covers over your head, hoping they will shield you from your embarrassment. You feel the mattress sink slightly next you and a hand rest on your back.

"Baby, I didn't mean to upset you. I was just shocked you had wrote something like that." You could tell he was genuinely sorry. You poke your head out of the covers and look at his face. "And if I'm being honest, it was well written." You stifle a laugh. "There's that gorgeous smile."

"I'm sorry I stormed off like that. I just felt extremely embarrassed," you say. His big, brown eyes staring into yours.

"You know I love you, right? And I never meant to make you feel ashamed," he says.

"Yeah, and I love you too." Brendon smiles and slides into the covers next to you, making you the little spoon. Gosh, he's so lucky that he's cute.

#panic! at the disco #patd #brendon urie #beebo #brendon urie x reader #brendon urie fanfiction #brendon urie fanfic #brendon urie imagine #fanfiction #panic! at the disco fanfiction #fanfic #panic! at the disco x reader #x reader

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flowers-in-your-dustbin · 6 years

Note

All the numbers again (second tag reblog)

1: When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? More milk than cereal cause I like to drink it!

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Yeah, but when I can get into the warmth after that's even better!

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? I try to remember the page number instead so usually end on a multiple of 10 or 5.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? Tea: Two sugars, milk, hopefully brewed by the gal. Coffee: I don’t!

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? Kinda!

6: do you keep plants? Nope!

7: do you name your plants? None to name!

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Oils if I had the money for that so typically watercolours

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? I am right now.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? Typically side, but back is fine. Not stomach really!

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? Oh My Gouda.

12: what's your favorite planet? Uranus ;)

13: what's something that made you smile today? My gal surprised me with a beautiful orchid

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Edgy expose brick aesthetic

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Uranus’ blue glow is due to an abundance of methane which filters out red light.

16: what's your favorite pasta dish? Spaghetti carbonara probs! Especially cooked by the best.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? I don’t! I did want pastel pink in August.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. I had a paddy fit in primary school because I used to always sabotage my meals so I didn't eat them but I spilt milk on something I legitimately didn’t mind having... I cried over spilt milk.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? I do! I write the days events and my feelings, I draw key points or little objects. Not all the time tho.

20: what's your favorite eye color? A nice hazel-y to chocolate amber brown woop

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. A grey Kanken Fjallraven, if Switzerland counts as hell, there you have it.

22: are you a morning person? Yeah! I’m straight too!

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Exactly that, nothing. With a side of music.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Only the one.

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? An abandoned slaughterhouse. Soz vegans

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? Black old skool vans hehe original

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Strawberry!

28: sunrise or sunset? Why not both in a day?

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? I’m not sure!

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? I’m not sure, close calls/

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. I like socks. Weird socks are fun. So are odd ones. I do not sleep with my socks, nor do I confine myself to white sock hell.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. We had deep convos for the time, we probs cried, then probs went to sleep.

33: what's your fave pastry? Uh choux just cause I can remember that is one. Hahahaha.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? I had one called Baxter Bear which was the best, he was quite obviously a bear with a red scarf and his own passport. I threw up on him in the car and he was never the same again, he disappeared short after. Don’t ask about Scrubs the dog.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I do, I just don't use them often.

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? The xx

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? A healthy middle.

38: tell us about your pet peeves! Couldn’t possibly. There’s a fair few.

39: what color do you wear the most? Probably black? Emo ik.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? I own a necklace I got for my 16th its very cute and only comes out when I have heterosexual days to masquerade it. It’s nice.

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde, it’s my favourite ever. I don’t read as much as I used to, sigh.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! There’s a cute local one. They do unreal Nutella pancakes and its quite central and very aesthetic-y. Yum!

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My gal, typically on the way to my car where I point out Orion or The Dipper. It’d be nice to do it properly sometime.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Two days ago.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? When I need to.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. Someone mentions a dog, then I normally incorporate the word ‘ruff’ as a homophone for ‘rough’ and get death stares. But I like it.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? Gherkins.

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Abandonment/loneliness hahahah yes it is.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? I do like buying records yeah! I can’t say until April the 23rd but I’ll have bought another by then.

50: what's an odd thing you collect? I don’t think I do have anything odd!

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? Uncomfortable by Wallows, as well as Fast Food by D.I.D and many many more.

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? The new Patrick one is doing pretty good.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? Nope, nope, nope and nope!

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? My dog. I didn't walk him.

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? Hahahah you wouldn’t want to know.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Feeling secure with them, if you get me.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? CAN YOU DO THE FANDANGO!?!?!

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? K is probs the wine mom bc I'd say A but she’s not as sensible, thus A gets the Aunt role.

59: what's your favorite myth? Bulls hate red, they’re actually colour blind lmao.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? I don’t mind a bit of poetry! Marking Time by Owen Sheers is noice.

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? Me and mum put a fancy brooch in a pack of digestives for someone. I’ve received stupid spellings of my name on the birthday cards.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? Nope

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? Rainbow order woop.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Black.

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? Yep!

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Cutesy and white and blue and stuff idk. But I wouldn't wear one haha.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? Serene! Albeit Silent Hill-esque

68: what's winter like where you live? Fun! Cold! Disruptive!

69: what are your favorite board games? The Game of Life/Monopoly/Articulate!

70: have you ever used a ouija board? Nope!

71: what's your favorite kind of tea? English Breakfast, brewed by the girlfriend.

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? I've been known to be.

73: what are some of your worst habits? Overthinking. Nail biting.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Ginger.

75: tell us about your pets! A doggo! A beagle! and a fish...

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? Revising!

77: pink or yellow lemonade? Yellow

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? anyone in the fanclub needs natural selection to do its thing.

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? Surprised me at work with flowers.

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? White, because I’d like grey but we haven’t got there yet or painted the house since its still pretty new.

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. I don't have the time for that shit.

82: are/were you good in school? I was! I still think I am! Who knows.

83: what's some of your favorite album art? Smithsmithsmithsmithsmiths

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? Yeah! Quite a few. All tonal, but above all a Venus sign and more importantly the great wave off Kanazawa by Hokusai

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? I don't fun fact I used to read them start to feel sick.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? I feel stupid for not knowing what they are.

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Donnie Darko.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? Not Gothic. Can’t go wrong with a bit of impressionism.

89: are you close to your parents? I think. Depends on the time of day.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. Starts with E, ends in Dinburgh.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? Nowhere abroad really, just a couple of good cities.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? Barely sprinkles, but I have a drowner with me to compensate.

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? Down. Full stop.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My girlfriend’s. mum!

95: what are your plans for this weekend? Work, a party, a Harry Potter film, a sad Sunday.

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? I leave them for as long as possible

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? ENFJ/Pisces/Ravenclaw

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? Hah idk.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Nude - Radiohead is the one I’m thinking at the mo’ and I can’t think past that.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Future. Don’t need to lament on the past when I hope I have a good one ahead of me. Then from there I'd click 5 back so I’m right back to where I am, cheers.

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jeffrinamichelle · 7 years

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Omg yay!!!!!!!!!!! You just made a crappy day so much better

I’m glad that I could make your day. I’ll even do you one better.

Keep in mind when you read this that it is an update but not an update. It is not part of the plot, but instead a one shot based in the world. I was writing it to celebrate the one year anniversary of Barista’s Choice and I got carried away.

So, here is a little teaser for you….

~Valentine’s Day~

Valentine’s Day had never been a holiday that Lexa wasovertly fond of. It felt too commercial to her, even though it wasn’t acommercial holiday. The whole ‘show your loved one how much they mean to you’was not something that she had ever understood. Celebrate your love for yoursignificant other one day out of three hundred and sixty five days? No thanks.Why can’t you do that every day?

Costia had been a big believer in celebrating and so Lexahad been forced to go over the top for her girlfriend.

Clarke had the same feelings as Lexa when it came tocelebrating. She actually preferred to celebrate her love for Lexa on days thatwere not observed as national holidays. She would send flowers to Lexa’s officeat least once a week. ‘Just because you’re you,’ is what the card would alwaysread, in Clarke’s loopy scrawl. Even now, three years after marrying Clarke,her wife managed to make her feel like they were in college again. Niylah wouldalways make fun of Lexa when she’d see the giant bouquet of whatever flowerClarke chose that week sitting on Lexa’s desk, because the brunette wouldalways turn beet red.

It was really strange to work with one of her wife’s exes,but she and Niylah had actually become close friends over the years. They werehired by the same law firm straight out of college. Niylah ended up marryingthe girl that Clarke had introduced her to back in her junior year, before shestarted dating Lexa.

Even though she wasn’t keen on celebrating such a commercialholiday, this year Clarke gave her the best gift ever.

~*~*One Week Ago*~*~

Clarke had been moody. Moodier than normal. For the pastmonth, she’s been working on her new exhibition for her gallery so she has beenbusy. Most of her time at home, she has been holed up in her studio, trying toget her pieces put together.

Lexa didn’t mind that Clarke was busy with work, she lovedthat her wife was passionate about her art. And she had a very demanding jobtoo, so it wouldn’t be fair for her to be mad about Clarke being busy.

No matter how busy they were, they both made it a point tohave supper together every night. They had yet to miss an evening togethersince they’d been married.

So, for the life of her, Lexa cannot figure out why Clarkeis not home right now. She had sent her wife a text about an hour before shegot off of work, asking what she wanted for dinner. Clarke replied immediately,letting Lexa know that she was craving pad Thai like nobody’s business.

Lexa made sure to bring home Clarke’s pork pad Thai fromtheir favorite Thai restaurant, barely remembering to order the shrimp springrolls that Clarke always wanted but never asked for.

She hears Fish bark as she slips her key into the lock.She’s pretty sure that her lazy dog is barking at her from her and Clarke’sbed. Her tiny, baby Husky is not so little anymore. At five years old, Fish isa sixty pound beast.

Her suspicions are confirmed when she walks into the house.She can hear Fish’s bark emanating from their bedroom, but he makes no effortin moving to check out what is going on in the house.

“You’re a terribleguard dog, Fish. What if I was a thief?”

At the sound of Lexa’s voice, Fish hops off of the bed,padding into the living room. His tail wags as he sees Lexa standing in thedoorway, take out bags in one hand and her briefcase in the other. Fish comesup to her and sniffs at the take out, nudging her hand with his snout.

“Yeah right. Keepdreaming dude. Even if I did feed you people food, you were a terrible guarddog tonight.”

When Lexa doesn’t cave after another nudge to her hand, Fishchanges his tactics. He rubs his face and body against Lexa’s leg, getting hislong fur all over her black slacks. Lexa jumps back with a gasp, her backhitting the front door.

“Fish! Come on! You knowthat it’s damn near impossible to get your fur out of my slacks. Go lay down,you butthead.”

Fish whines, staring intently at the food. With a glare inhis direction, the stubborn Husky takes his leave, heading back into the masterbedroom.

Lexa chuckles at her goofy dog, heading towards the kitchenso that she can set the food down.

After setting her things down on the kitchen counter, Lexapulls her cell phone out of her pocket so that she can call Clarke. The callgoes straight to voicemail, which doesn’t surprise Lexa at all. Clarke isnotorious for forgetting her cell phone in the gallery. When she actuallyremembers to carry it on her person, it is usually dead because she frequentlyforgets to charge it.

Lexa leaves a voice message for Clarke, inquiring about herwife’s whereabouts, just in case she forgot about dinner. Lexa has to laugh outloud about that, because Clarke would never forget about their dinner plans,especially when Thai food is involved. With a resigned sigh, she sets the deviceon the counter, deciding to jump into the shower before heading over to thegallery. She puts the bags of food into the oven, hoping that it will keep warmwhile she is gone.

She heads into the master bedroom, shedding her tailoredsuit as she makes her way into the bathroom. She knows that she is going tohave a horrible time trying to get Fish’s fur off of her slacks, so she setsthem aside so that she can get them dry cleaned. She would rather pay somebodyelse to deal with that devil dog’s fur.

She showers quickly, even though she would rather take hertime. She usually takes a longer shower when she gets home from work, but she’sworried about her wife. It’s totally unheard of for Clarke to be late fordinner, even if she is running a little late. After toweling off, she getsdressed in a pair of black yoga pants and a white tank top. When she comes outof the steam filled bathroom, Fish is standing next to the door with his tailwagging expectantly. Lexa chuckles softly, scratching between the husky’s ears.

“Fine. I guess thatyou can ride with me to pick up your mama. But, you’d better not get drool allover my windows again!”

The drive to the gallery is usually a ten minute commute,but the rush hour traffic in LA delays Lexa another ten minutes.

Clarke’s sky blue Volkswagen Jetta is parked outside of thesmall red brick building. Other than a small glare of light coming from theback of the gallery, the rest of the building is dark. She heads inside of thegallery with Fish hot on her heels.

The front door is locked, but Lexa has a spare key on herkey ring. She unlocks the front door and walks in, relocking the door behindher. Fish immediately begins his search for his mama, snout in the air as hesniffs her out. Lexa follows dutifully behind her dog, worry settling in herbones.

“Clarke?” Lexacalls out as they enter the blonde’s office.

The light in the room is dim, shadows cast all over thewalls. Clarke’s stuff is all over her desk, her purse dumped out on the woodensurface. Her cell phone is on top of the pile. Lexa picks up the device andpresses the home button. The phone is dead, just as she suspected. She knowsthat Clarke has a charger in her office, why she doesn’t use is completely loston Lexa. One of these days, she’s going to convince her wife to be morediligent about having her phone on her and charged.

She turns around to call Fish, but the words die in herthroat. Fish has managed to push open the bathroom door in Clarke’s office. Heis sitting on the ground next to the toilet, his face resting against Clarke’sslumped over body.

Lexa moves quickly, fear putting her body on autopilot. Shekneels down next to her wife, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Clarke. Baby.”

Clarke’s body tenses as she startles awake. Her blue eyesfrantically move around the room, trying to figure out where she is. When shemeets Lexa’s concerned gaze, a sleepy smile graces her lips.

“Hey, Lexie.”Clarke rasps out, her voice rough with sleep.

“Hey sweetheart. Youfell asleep in the bathroom.”

“Yeah.”

“Not that this is theweirdest place I’ve ever found you sleeping in, but why were you in here on thefloor?”

“Oh, I um, I wasn’tfeeling very good. I came in here and got sick. I guess that I fell asleepafter I threw up.”

“You got sick baby?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you eat somethingweird that made you feel icky?”

“No. I had thatprotein shake that you made me this morning. And for lunch O brought me asandwich from that deli that you like.”

“Hmm. Have you feltsick any other day recently?”

“No. I was thinkingthat it was from stress, since I only have a few more days to get this showtogether before it opens.”

“Yeah, probably.” Lexaplaces an open palm on Clarke’s forehead. “Youdon’t have a fever, so that’s good.”

“Yeah, did I missdinner?”

“No baby. I left it inthe oven at home so that it would keep warm.”

“Okay, good. Can we gohome?”

“Of course. I even gotthose spring rolls that you love.”

“Have I mentioned thatI love you?”

Lexa chuckles, pressing her lips to the side of Clarke’shead. “I love you too ai houmon. Do youwant to ride home with me? I can bring you to work in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Alright baby, let’sget out of here.”

#Anonymous Ask #ask me anything #Barista's Choice #Sneak Peek #Clarke x Lexa #Clexa

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geekade · 7 years

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Geekade Top Ten: Unusual Video Game Hearts

It's Valentine's Day and there are hearts everywhere. They're at the store, in your office, on your Facebook wall, everywhere. You know where else they are? Video games. Sometimes they make sense, others, not so much, especially if you think about them for more than a few moments. Here are the top ten unusual video game hearts.

#10. Popeye - Hearts represent love and life in video games a lot. It's when you start to think of said hearts as physical objects that things start to seem a little odd, especially when said hearts aren't an abstract powerup item. In Popeye, Olive Oil tosses these hearts down at you and there's always been somethign a little off-putting to me about the way they fall. It's like they're leaves or something. Why would these hearts have this kind of weight? What are they made of? Love? Is love made of feathers? I have so many questions!

#9. Love Lab from Rhythm Heaven - Here we see hearts representing love again, but this time it's through science! In this Rhythm Heaven minigame, you are charged with making a love potion by making hearts pop out of the top of your flask when you shake it the right way. If done correctly, the hearts combine with another scientist's hearts and then fall into a... heart bag? I don't even know what else to say. I mean, Rhythm Heaven is fantastic, and so is this particular minigame, but the tangible nature of those hearts again vexes me.

#8. Stage 13 in bubble Bobble - Bubble Bobble is adorable, and each single-screen stage has some sort of pattern on it, so a heart shouldn't seem out of place. The trouble is that everything in this stage is out to kill you! This is the pinnacle of things only getting weirder the more you think about it. If the story is to be believed, your cute little dinosaurs are traveling through the cave of monsters to save their loved ones, and there's a part of this cave that's made entirely out of hearts? And I'm on this lovely stage with the super-cute Bubble Bobble theme music playing in the background and then some flying whale monsters show up to try to murder me? What the hell? It's weird. Also, it's really hard to get inside the heart to kill the trapped whale monsters. Was that supposed to mean something? Like, it's hard to get inside someone's heart? Or maybe it's just a level in an adorable video game. Whatever. It's still weird.

#7. The Companion Cube from Portal - This is still one of the most brilliant segments in the history of gaming, and partly because it's so bizarre. The game expects you to feel differently about this inatimate cube because they called it your companion cube and put hearts on it. BUT IT WORKED! When it came time for me to "euthinize" the cube, I kept looking for a way out of it. I didn't want to destroy my companion cube, it was myu friend! It loved me! See? It's got hearts on it! Really, one of the most remarkable game experiences I've ever had. The only reason it's not higher on the list is because I'm nto ranking best, I'm ranking unusual.

#6. Kano Wins - So, let's think about this. This dude Kano not only has the ability to rip off Blanka from Street Fighter II by somehow levitating himself, curling into a ball, and spinning around like Sonic the Hedgehog except in a straight line, and a seemingly limitless supply of laser knives stashed away in his pocket-less outfit, but he can also just shove his hand into a person's chest and rip their heart out? Why the heck wouldn't you lead with that? Who cares about spinning around like a ball when you can just get close enough to end whatever fight you're in with some good old fashioned heart removal? Also, I've enver really been able to figure this out from looking at the animations, but does he take a bite out of the heart, or is it just animated weird? I would think he'd have blood on his face if he took a bite out of it, het he seems as clean as he was when he started the match. Of course, there should probably be blood all over him by this point anyway considering how much blood there is in teh game as is. Why would he wear white to an occasion like this?

#5. Powerup hearts in Double Dragon for NES - So, this is weird. Hearts in games are usually tied to some sort of health or something, except here in Double Dragon they represent how many ways you can beat dudes up. The hearts are the basically the level-up structure. The more points you get from punching folks, the more hearts you get. The more hearts you get, the more effective ways you get to beat people up. I have no problem with a level-up system in my bean-em-up, but why hearts? Why not a simple number system? Who thought using hearts to show how high a level you were on and using a series of rectangles to show health made any sense at all? Crazy people, that's who.

#4. This heart container in Zelda 2 - Like Olive Oil's hearts in Popeye, heart containers really seem weird the more you think about them. As a physical, tangible object you can pick up in Zelda games, the more you think on it the stranger that really seems. But at least they're usually only awarded in special circumstances. You beat a boss or find a secret cave or something. This one though, is just chilling next to some rocks in a field like someone just left it there. Like someone was just passing through and decided "I'm done with this thing" and tossed it. And there's this single Goriya there hanging out with it. Did he not think of picking it up and keeping it for himself? Is he just chilling in this field with the rocks all by himself guarding the heart container? What kind of life is that? And how exactly is the heart container standing up like that? Shouldn't it be laying on its side or something? Is it levitating?

#3. The Fiend's Cauldron from Kid Icarus Uprising - Hearts as currency are just the way things are in the Kid Icarus universe. That alone is weird enough to earn it a high spot on my list, but when it came time for the 3rd entry int he Kid Icarus franchise, the powers tha be took things a step further with the Fiend's Cauldron. At the beginning of each stage you can toss your hearts in the blasted thing and basically bet on how well you'r egoing to do. The more hearts you throiw in the cauldron, the harder the diffuiculty is, but also the higher the reward if you beat the level. Why a cauldron? What good does cooking the hearts do? I get the betting system, but does cooking them make them taste better? Are we eating hearts now? I thought they were money. Are you trying to sacve the hearts from being buirned in the cauldron? If so, isn't there a better way to show betting with hearts? Couldn't there jsut be some sort of bank syustem? I know they have credit cards in Angel Land. Man, that's weird.

#2. Hearts in Castlevania - This is basically combining all the weirdest heart traits into one. They're not currency like in Kid Icarus though, ammunition for your weapons. As in the more hearts you have the more axes you can throw. I'm sorry, but what? What kind of sense does that make? Oh, and where do you get these hearts? Candles. That's right, if you take a whip to a candle, a heart might fall out. If it's a small heart it will fall like a feather just like in Popeye. If it's a big heart, it will just plop on the ground like a brick. It won't bounce though, it will just land on its pointy end and sit there looking all red and whatnot. So, they have relative weight? At half the size they're lighter than air, otherwise they fall like bags of fruit? And let's not foret just how weird it is to seee adorable, lovely hearts all over the place in the gothis setting of Castlevania. Dracula's got some weird stuff going on in his castle.

#1. Losing a life in City Connection - There are hearts all over this weird little game, but there is nothing more strange than what happens when you get into a car accident. Nothing. I... Just watch.

Nope, we're not getting any weirder than that.

And there's my list. What did I forget? I'm sure there's something. There's no shortage of weird video games out there.

Anyway, happy Valentine's Day!

#Video Games #articles

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