#sorry for anything I said that offended

[hispieceofcake]

🪲My opinions and thoughts about the costume of the main character in the Beetlejuice sequel trailer🕸️ — (and the upcoming film)

I want to make it clear that these are just my opinions and thoughts, this post has no intention of provoking discussion or offending other people's opinions, it's just what I think and what I observe.

Okay, firstly about the choice of actor for the main character, I think the actress Jenna Ortega more than DESERVED this role, She was undoubtedly a great choice of actress, a friend and I talked about it and realized that Jenna really gives off the vibe of the movie Beetlejuice. It really fits into films with more gothic and horror themes, things like that, but then there's a small problem...

The problem itself is that they took away that gothic vibe like Lidya had in the first film, "Ah but she's Lidya's daughter, she doesn't necessarily need to be goth", That's it, Beetlejuice is a film with a more gothic feel, death, ghosts, bats, afterlife, things like that.

And I think it was kind of annoying that they took away this essence from the main character, Jenna is an AMAZING actress and fits in beautifully with gothic characters (Wednesday is an example).

Here we have an image I made comparing Lidya in the first film, and Jenna's character's outfit, and it honestly looks like she's dressed like a grunge teenager from TikTok.

"Ah, but there was a passage of time between the first film and the two"

Yes, there was, so much so that Lidya got married and had a daughter, but I don't know, they could have tried to keep the character a bit Gothic.

Now about the wedding dress on the official poster...

Guys, I even understand wanting to change the character's style and so on because well, it's been more or less 26 or 27 years and the style of the time has changed, but that's where the issue comes in. In the first film, it's Beetlejuice who makes the dress appear on Lidya, and he'll probably be the one to make Jenna's character's dress appear too and he was kind of stuck in that waiting room all that time, that is, the time has changed but he hasn't. Where I want to get to is the following

Here's a photo of Lidya's dress, and comparing it to Jenna's character's dress... I don't think Beetlejuice would make her wear a "simple" dress like that, man, we're talking about BEETLEJUICE, do you really think he would make his bride wear something simple?

Not to say anything bad, but the design on the top of the dress seems very simple, like something most people wear nowadays, I may be taking a shot in the dark for not having seen the rest of the dress but I'm talking about the top itself.

I made a picture of what in my head missing screws would make more sense or look better on the iconic wedding dress.

Like, it's okay for the top to be simple but the veil could make a big difference too, like in the image, I put two examples that I think would be perfect.

And remembering again people, it's just my opinion and my thoughts during a sleepless night, don't come and show up at my window in the middle of the night. 😥

Leaving that topic, we discovered that there will be a musical number in the film and honestly I'm quite excited and anxious to see what it will be like, and I'll be able to have a new song for my Beetlejuice playlist, so I'm very happy.☺️

Well people, that's all, I'm writing this at 3:36 in the morning and I haven't slept yet, so I decided to write this because I've been having these thoughts for a while. I also wanted to ask for something, as I've been saying in several posts, I'm making a Beetlejuice Masterlist, and it has things from the first film, the cartoon, the musical and now the sequel.

It's been a lot of work, and there's one thing I've been looking for for days and can't find, it's the 1992 Beetlejuice Cartoon Annual, so if anyone has it or has the link please share with me, I would be grateful.💗

Well, that's it, kisses to everyone's hearts and be careful with Beetlejuice in your room. *Beetlejuice jumpscare*

[nikeiyomiurioverthinker]

Nikei Yomiuri has BPD: the masterpost

So I've been formally requested to make a post on why I believe Nikei has BPD- so strap in, folks, this is gonna be a long one.

I want to preface this with, I am in no way a mental health expert, I am in no way qualified to actually diagnose anyone with anything, but I am a weirdo who likes to read the DSM-5 for kicks who also happens to think about Nikei Yomiuri a lot. Everything I say needs to be taken with a grain of salt, yadda yadda yadda, you know how that all goes.

TW for discussions of sui, CSA and SH. I am not planning to discuss any of these topics in depth (except for the first one, due to just. Nikei being Nikei), but if the topics distress you in any way, I would advise simply not reading this. Look after yourself.

So, firstly, I would like to discuss how BPD develops. Though there are many possible causes, such as genetics, affecting the on-set of BPD symptoms, one of the most common causes is childhood abuse, especially CSA. We currently do not yet know Nikei's backstory and how he was 'saved' by Utsuro, but it is commonly believed that it had to do with CSA. It both explains some of his behaviors- the weird hypersexual tendencies and his extremely negative reaction to being touched by Mikado from behind, for example- and 'fits', so to speak, Void's tendency in everyone there suffering some sort of child abuse. This is mostly to explain how Nikei fits the common parameters of someone in whom BPD could develop.

Now, as for the diagnostic criteria: the DSM-5 dictates there are 9 major symptoms of BPD, and in order to qualify, the patient needs to fulfill at least 5.

Before I go over which of the symptoms he fulfills, I want to start with stating that Nikei is a particularly hard character to get a read on, mostly due to him faking his personality for the greatest majority of the game, and though I do not believe everything about him that we see is 100% fake at all times, it would be presumptuous of me to discern what I personally believe to be real or not. Therefore, I will keep myself limited to:

His actions throughout the game (plus the ones he made from behind the scenes and also what he did before the actual happenings of the game)

Nikei's bouts of anger (which he is shown to be physically unable to control)

Chapter 6's Void Theatre (since Linuj has stated that Nikei was being truthful in it and was thus is 'real self')

Talking about his anger… symptom number 1, "Inappropriate, intense anger that can be difficult to control" and symptom number 2, "Rapidly shifting intense emotional dysregulation". I don't think I need to go too in-depth when talking about how he fits these symptoms. If you have played the game, you know Nikei is shown to turn easily aggressive in ways he seems unable to control. I think the scene that highlights that the most is the one in chapter 4 while everyone is in Nikei's room- right after Mikado leaves. Nikei is unable to calm himself down, and has to cut short the meeting due to his inability to regulate his emotions properly. Honestly, Nikei in the fourth trial could also be used as an example for this.

Symptom number 3, "Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment". The man's gut reaction to Emma, Hajime and Iroha 'leaving' him was to come up with a plan to fuck over the man who took them away from him. It's actually a little hard to express myself in-depth on these first points, because I feel as though it would just be me repeating the game's plot points or just. Describing his character, rather than adding anything new to the discussion… of course, it's also pretty obvious that Nikei has extremely unstable relationships (again, Void), so he fits the fourth symptom as well, "Unstable and chaotic interpersonal relationships, often characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation, also known as "splitting" ". He doesn't necessarily 'split' on anyone in game, unless you count the fact that he can go from developing a crush on Sora to hating her guts in chapter 4, though in that case, his sudden hatred is more than understandable, considering the context- but I have to stress, it is almost impossible for us to know how Nikei feels about people in general, since most of his relationships are technically developed off-camera. As I am talking about Nikei's relationships, I feel like it would be a disservice to this 'theory' to not bring up this specific answer to a question that Linuj himself gave:

Nikei is not healthy with his interpersonal relationships. While this comment is strictly about romantic relationships, it is not a stretch to say that he gets obsessive about others in general- ergo, his relationships are unstable by definition.

Our fifth symptom is "Markedly disturbed sense of identity and distorted self-image"- one of his most obvious characteristics as a person is his inferiority complex, which feeds into his desire for power. To this, we can also add his struggle with his own self-worth. We don't know why exactly Nikei idolizes his hand as of yet, but it doesn't take an expert to realize that no matter the reason, his obsession with it doesn't exactly give us the impression his self-image is in any way stable.

Theoretically, I could stop here, since to be diagnosed you only need to fulfill 5 symptoms, but I am an overachiever to a fault so I'm gonna go on.

Symptom number 6, "Impulsive or reckless behaviors (e.g., uncontrollable spending, unsafe sex, substance use disorders, reckless driving, binge eating)". Now this might be weird to some of you, since Nikei doesn't really show any of these behaviors in game (again, not counting personal headcanons for this, so even if I do believe Nikei is definitely a reckless driver, I can't exactly say that counts since it is 100% based on vibes) but these are all just examples of reckless behaviors- Nikei has just significantly more personalized ones. Like, say, participating in a killing game of his own free will, or using an actual stun gun on himself rather than just pretending to be unconscious, or randomly changing key details of the plan he made supposedly months prior on the fly (ie adding Teruya to the mix when his spot was originally supposed to be taken by Syobai). Assuming Nikei has BPD actually makes chapter 4 make more sense.

"Recurrent suicidal ideation or self harm"- this is the last symptom I am going to talk about, and the primary reason for the TW at the start. This is probably gonna be somewhat headcanon-y, and if anyone wants to disregard that as such I cannot exactly fault them for it, but hear me out: Nikei's plan counts as a suicide plan. Nikei is not an idiot- he would have known that, no matter how it ended up going, if he failed or not, Nikei was gonna die either way- if his plan worked and Yuki was executed, Mikado would have retaliated and killed him in revenge; if his plan worked and Yuki got away with it, he would have died in the mass execution; and if, how it happened in canon, he failed he would have been killed, too (Mikado may have said that he would have forgiven Nikei if he returned back to Void, but let's be real here- that was a bold faced lie. He was just gloating). This plan would have ended up with him dead no matter what, and he was okay with it- which I don't need to tell you, is not exactly something someone who has never considered suicide before would do.

(Also random thought that I probably wouldn't be able to fit in another post- Nikei's execution itself is fairly odd, in the sense that he was ultimately the one who killed himself. He was the one that ran up the stairs, he was the one that jumped off the building, he was the one that failed to catch the ladder- hell, jumping off a building is a pretty common suicide method. His death is unique in the sense that he brought it all to himself- he was the only executee that wasn't tied down in any way, all his actions were truly his choice. He didn't need to run away from the Monocrows, but he did. He didn't need to go up the stairs instead of down, but he did. He didn't need to jump, but he did.)

The last two symptoms are:

Chronic feelings of emptiness

Transient, stress-related paranoid or severe dissociative symptoms

Which I don't think I can apply to Nikei in good conscience, since it's pretty hard to discern how that man is feeling at all times (other than, well, when he is raging). That would wound up being wayyy too headcanon-y for even me to excuse. Like, do I believe he is depressed? Absolutely. Do I believe he has PTSD? Certainly, but I can't point to any exact action he takes in game and point to it to say that he is 100% depressed. It's mostly just vibes. And again, I don't really need to? I have already given ample evidence as to why I believe Nikei has BPD, even without these last two symptoms.

(I mean, I COULD prove that Nikei has PTSD- if we consider his more than likely sexual trauma and his reaction to him being grabbed by Mikado specifically, someone who he considers to be a threat- that certainly feels like PTSD to me. Even without that, I genuinely doubt anyone that lived through the Tragedy DOESN'T have PTSD. Anyway I am losing track of the post here-)

I don't exactly know how to end this, but yeah! That's about it. Nikei has BPD, thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

[larabar]

Have you thought of anything new for your Actually Dead tmosth au?

yes actually ! eggman finds out about the whole fiasco and just. wdym hes dead. ive been trying to beat this guy for years he did Not die in a murder mystery birthday party

[melancholic-pigeon]

I was accusing (I thought somewhat lightheartedly) the 4utismsp3aks parents who came up with the blue pumpkin of misunderstanding the teal pumpkin project, not @vaspider, but apparently it sounded the other way?????? I'm horrified that that happened it was completely not even a little bit intentional

[fireboos99]

I don't do textposts much, but

BITES BITES BITES

while I don't like all of the lore we've gotten of Little Nightmares since III was announced (I will die on the hill that is my AU, and dream realm called Nowhere does not work with said AU, so I ignore that) I am excited to see how the game goes, I look forward to finding out which parts I can adapt into my AU. (definitely adopting Low and Alone)

I was, admittedly, along with the joke of "Reanimal is just LN" but, I understand that that's just Tarsier's style, and think that comparing the two games so much is stupid (or picking one over the other)

like, c'mon guys, we get two co-op horror games with young kids running from monsters in the style of Little Nightmares (one is actually part of the series, the other being created by the og creators. and really, I'm glad they're making another game like that<3)

anyway, I'm excited for both games, and think people should stop arguing over which one will be better. WE EATIN' GOOD, FOLKS!

[rulesforthedance]

Face of a man who kept trying to bite my feet while I was in a video meeting

[taegularities]

being here has never felt this suffocating.. it feels impossible sometimes to continue

[britneyshakespeare]

You know. Sorry for another sporadic unprompted post about that friend who has caused me so much trauma in the past year. But I remember this one time his old high school friend I met once, he's really nice I liked him a lot. Cool guy. But he lives far away so they don't meet up a lot but they text. One time he sent this friend some pictures of us that were taken at a cooking class that he'd been bothering me into going to despite that it was all the way in Boston, there was a lot of walking to get to it, etc. And I was like constantly feeling sick and run down and exhausted from having Covid recently. He texted his friends those pictures of the two of us and his friend asked "Are you and Diana dating lol" like pretty innocently but honestly curious.

And he just replied "Are you fucking high" and he showed me and told me about it. Like. Like it was uncomfortable for HIM to be asked that.

Like his response isn't SUPER INSULTING TO ME.

[27-royal-teas]

look ive been looping the light behind your eyes by mcr for the past HOUR and i am having so many emotions i cannot even COMPREHEND right now so i am going to ramble about mania because i have twenty minutes left in computer science class and nothing to do. this is complete word vomit i did not go back through and edit read at your own caution

the thing i really love about mania as a whole is the juxtaposition of the symbols it uses; its literally going insane. It seems kind and pretty and aesthetic on the surface but scratch the top and you’re falling into a pit of maniac despair. There are llamas and purple and the ocean and sure those seem peaceful and lovely on the outside but thats the thing theyre NOT its a juxtaposition. Its something beautiful combined with awful traits (never in my life did i think i would watch llamas stab pete to death but cest la vie i guess) and that just makes things so much more horrifying. The overuse of purple feels like a panic attack, or a point trying to get through. the llamas, which are a symbol of peace and royalty, are constantly used in a creepy/harmful way that really ruined llamas in general for me. Sunshine riptide is a fantastic song and i love it so much but its REALLY FUCKING DEPRESSING AT ITS CORE. AND !!!! the constant use of royalty as a pedestal!!!! purple is the color of royalty!!!! The purple llama’s name is Royal-Tea!!! LLAMAS ARE A SYMBOL OF ROYALTY!!!! Its like a motif idk i just think its so interesting. And then theres the song champion which is. obviously linked. 

As i write this my playlist hits me in the face with Calm Down and then Fake Out in quick succession its making me so depressed ajskfhewincn

mania is also a really interesting experimental album but the new elements are incorporated so flawlessly its rlly difficult to tell theyre new things that fall out boy hasnt done before. Also in this they add a lot of Black influences, like burna boy featuring on sunshine riptide (AUGHHHHH ANOTHER SAD SONG JUST CAME ON IM DYING INSIDE) and heavens gate is very soul influenced. but since i am not black, im just some random chinese american (i might as well just be white), i feel like whatever i say im going to get wrong and i really, really do not want to fuck up talking about cultural things, but i really do love how different cultures are peppered into this album and it just feels so NATURAL. Like for instance i also saw in the youtube comment section of hold me tight or dont that it’s kinda like salsa music? Im not positive i just thought id add that in there. 

My favorite tracks on mania are ranked as follows

Bishops knife trick (a true banger, ive talked about this already)

stay frosty royal milk tea (everyone likes it the least but it is a certified bop) 

Church (aaa)

Young and menace (my musical wife)

Sunshine riptide (everytime i hear it i want to scream. in a good way)

Heavens gate (ITS SO FUCKING GOOD)

Champion (i listen to it before i perform, every time without fail)

Last of the real ones (brings me back to radio memories from 2018. Very good)

Hold me tight or dont (idk if youve ever heard the spotify acoustic version but it SLAPS)

Like to be completely honest with you there is no way to reasonably rank these. Theyre all fucking great. Honestly i love them all so, so much. Mania has my heart forever i just kind of ranked them by how often im in the mood to listen to them

There is definitely more i want to talk about but now class is over so i am going to go pass out on the floor of my debate teachers room. im sorry this was incomprehensible. you find out too late i am insane 

[brunetterightsactivist]

See my brother takes HIS laundry that he makes out of the dryer after I washed it for him and then throws it in the spare room and refuses to fold it. And then gets mad that I call him a slob???? The audacity

[sillyfreakx5]

he didn't respond for over 5 hours and it's the middle of the day in his timezone aaaaa did i do something wrong??? (he usually replies quite quickly and i already sent several texts)

[atypeofherb9922]

Things that should be obvious

1. If you don’t like the person who made something that you love, then separate the art from the artist, you don’t have to hate what you once loved because of who made it.

2. If don’t like what someone else made, don’t publicity hate on them, it is mean, even if you don’t like them. People spend lots of time on stuff, and it’s rude when you go on hating about it, and it makes the person feel like they are worthless.

3. If you don’t know a friend for at least over a year or two, and their parents try to tell you how to live, you don’t have to listen, you can do (almost) whatever you want, without getting in trouble. For example if they say, “You shouldn’t wear that, it’s too revealing save it for your husband!”, that is wrong because they don’t know if you want to get married, or if you do get married that you’ll marry a dude, and they aren’t your parents so they don’t have the right to tell you how to live. Of course if you agree with them, there is nothing wrong with that, just if you don’t, and they’ll be saying things about you, it’s not their right. Because in the end they everyone has different opinions on how to go about things, and if your family differs from their family, so be it.

[animationismycomfort]

wait okay i need to ask genuinely because I'm not understanding very well. i promise im trying not to be rude

but how are mspec/bi/pan lesbians valid/a thing?

Lesbian quite specifically means "woman who loves women", therefore, someone who loves men or someone who identifies as a man, couldn't be a lesbian? It feels like stealing the term from... lesbians, does it not?? "words are just words, gender is made up" but these terms, these words, they do hold meaning, don't they? They were made for a reason, after all. Lesbians feel a bit... pushed out when it comes to certain things sometimes, if that makes sense. I'm a lesbian myself and I sincerely feel like this label isn't "just a word" really and this invites male-aligned people into our space. We made these words so that we can describe ourselves, not even just lesbian, more words than that of course. Most, it not all identities, were named so that we could put words to our identity. for us thats women who love women. I'm not fully educated, and I'm open to it, and sorry for ranting but the term just does... bother me a little.

most of my friends, who also identify as lesbian, agree to this sentiment, and I do feel it's important to listen to wlw who say these things, we feel pushed out of our own space by people who could very well have their own space without taking a word we have always used to identify ourselves and mixing it to have a different meaning.

I’m not really good for this type of question as I myself do not fully understand(mostly because I am not of that minority specifically)but I get using labels that might be strange to others to explain yourself which is why I’m open and greatly love people who use them as well

you might wanna ask someone who does actual research and has a big understanding about it I could recommend some if you wish I know a bi lesbian blog that could help or you could search some up as well

sorry I can’t help but as someone who doesn’t have first hand experience I feel like I can’t really give a good one

but I think they’re valid because gender can be complicated and so can sexuality and I think if people truly feel that these labels fit them then so be it

I’ve noticed most people who use these terms are mostly people with more genders

or with different romantic and sexual attraction

or or they themselves are a system with multiple different people in there

or or or it can be for people with preferences as well

doesn’t mean they have to be of that to use em but it’s the most common

I personally think if you truly feel that you are this thing

then you are

gender and sexuality are all about feelings are they not?

and these terms were made to explain feelings and emotions we ourselves back in the day could not understand isn’t that true?

so….why not in my opinion

I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable but that might be an issue you yourself need to solve other then that I can’t give much else

also also how have y’all felt pushed out of your own space as far as I know mspec lesbians have their own?

as do male lesbians so how have you been pushed out of your own space?

I think you have some stuff to figure out but that you can do in your own time

though you again could find some help in the spaces and blogs I’ve talked about

either way I hope you find whatever your looking for

and I thank you for trying to understand and for being brave enough to ask even with your complicated and pretty strange views

[goxjo]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 ⋮ 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢

↪︎ bridesmaid series ∘ haikyuu mlist ∘ general mlist

In which you find no way out of the most absurd wedding tradition of all time — the garter toss

pairing. groomsman! sakusa kiyoomi x bridesmaid! reader

warnings. no pronouns, f anatomy! reader, peer pressure, biting, soft dom! sakusa, he calls you pretty a lot, he uses the pet name ‘baby’, light choking, he wears a condom but discards it later on, handjob, slight humiliation, slight corruption, deepthroating, slight gagging, fingering, cunnilingus, mentions of alcohol, edging, slight praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare!!!! I love him this is a lot I know

word count. 6.1k

an. this is one of my fav fics that I’ve ever written, speaking as an omi girlie myself ;; this is also rewritten & reposted <3

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱

“Flower girls, please save the petals for when you walk down the aisle. And please, behave,” the coordinator says with hints of sweetness in his voice. He dusts off a few petals that got on his sleeves from a playful dispute between the little girls. Later, he requests for the older (and the more collected) bunch — the bridesmaids and the groomsmen — to be in their places in exactly five minutes.

You don’t really know much of the people here, save for a few bridesmaids and the bride herself, all of whom you’ve been friends with ever since high school. A few minutes ago, at the very brief orientation for the entourage, you stiffened when they announced who you’re getting paired with — a tall man with black wavy hair swept to one side, two prominent moles on the right side of his forehead, dark piercing eyes, and the rest of his face hidden behind a mask. Not that you’re complaining or anything, he just seems like he didn’t want to be there.

The coordinator darts his eyes back and forth from his clipboard onto the pairs falling in line but fixes his gaze on your partner who’s about an arm’s length away from you.

“Kiyoomi-san, please take it off just for the ceremony.”

Your partner gives his offender a sinister look, furrowing his brows before ultimately giving in — taking a deep sigh as he hooks his fingers on the loops of his mask.

Your head subconsciously draws back upon seeing his whole face, eyes fluttering, completely taken by how soft the entirety of his face looks regardless of the spiteful demeanor he gave off.

Mesmerized, you watch him slowly glance from the ground up as he folds his mask, keeping it deep in one of his pockets. As soon as your eyes locked, he cocks a brow, and the realization kicks in that you have just been caught ogling him.

Immediately, you look away, attempting to brush off your embarrassment now that you’re minutes away from walking down the aisle.

Shit. Please look away, please—

Promptly, you check to see if he’s still looking. And yes, he is, in fact, staring at you intently. He takes a few steps towards you, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.

“Sorry, I was just… did you want something—”

“Hold still.”

He inches closer to you, inspecting your face, and you can feel his warm breath brushing over your cheek. He raises his hand and as soon as you feel his fingers running through your hair, you can't help but jolt backwards in response.

“I said hold still,” he commands.

Your mouth opens agape and you feel a soft pinch at the top of your head. Pretty soon he’s waving a stray petal in front of your face.

He falls back in line, letting go of the petal to drop on the red carpet, and you, on the other hand, are frozen in place, not having moved an inch from where he left you.

You realize that you may have overreacted but your heart is pumping nonetheless.

“____, Kiyoomi, you’re up next!” the coordinator announces, and snapping you out of your daze is Kiyoomi offering his arm for you to take.

…

If there’s one thing at a wedding that the guests enjoy more than the bride and groom themselves, that would be the garter toss. Roaring cheers are heard from all corners of the reception hall and phones are whipped out, taking every good angle of the bride and groom in the middle of the dance floor. Obviously, no one is missing a shot of this momentous occasion. You can even tell by the expressions of the hotel staff that they aren’t immune to the appeal of the lewd tradition.

In reality, the ordeal actually goes by quickly. But from both the viewer and the participant’s perspective, it somehow feels menacingly slow. You suppose it’s due to the thrill of having someone consent to get borderline felt up on center stage as a groomsman sticks his head under their skirt, all while crappy overused stripper music plays in the background.

You have to admit, it’s quite the craze… until you consider the possibility that it’s you who gets to do it after all. “All single women to the center of the dancefloor. Bridesmaids, no exceptions!” the host announces, pertaining to you in particular upon seeing your hesitation.

To slim those chances, you stand as far back as possible. That, and so as to not get caught up with the horde of bachelorettes aching for their turn to play wifey. Your friend, the bride, takes one good look at you lot before spotting you at the rear, locking eyes with you, smirking.

You know that devilish look. Oh, don’t you dare.

And with a good throw, the bouquet flies past the mob of hopeful brides-to-be. They attempt their hardest to reach for it but to no avail, now only able to merely follow it with their eyes. A dozen heads turn to look at your figure and reality slaps them on the face all at once, the glimmer of hope leaving their eyes hollow upon seeing the bouquet already within your grasp.

Fuck.

…

Let’s just get this over with. Holy shit, can I do this…

You squirm in your seat, fiddling with the smooth lace wrapped around the bouquet on your lap, mentally debating whether to just say you’re not up for it, but your friends will never let you hear the last of it if you decide to sit this one out.

When you hear the swarm of bachelors bark in defeat, you look for the hand that holds the garter and your eyes widen in shock when you realize who it belongs to.

Although he doesn’t appear to be as miserable as you, not even his mask could hide that it irks him to be on the receiving end of all this attention. How he even ended up being included in the roster of bachelors, you do not know.

You’re being pulled by two of your friends towards the center stage. And just when you think things couldn't possibly get worse—

“What do you say we kick things up a notch?” The DJ riles up the crowd and two seconds later, one of the guests is yelling out, “use your teeth!” Pretty soon, the entire reception hall is echoing that same request.

“USE YOUR TEETH! USE YOUR TEETH! USE YOUR TEETH!”

At this point, you’re not even sure how to react anymore but it concerns you how Kiyoomi’s face just shifted from peeved to aggravated — and you couldn't tell if it’s because of you or the crowd.

“You’re wasting your time, he’s never gonna say yes to that,” one of the groomsmen with light brown hair and round eyebrows answers in your entourage partner’s stead, snatching the garter from Kiyoomi’s hand.

There’s pressure from the audience but you try your hand at reassuring the onlookers. “It’s okay, we can just pick again. Plus, I honestly don’t think he’s up for it.”

You hear him snicker. Did I say something wrong? Shifting your gaze to him, you see that he has already taken off his mask.

“Get on the chair, sweetie.”

You could feel your heart drop in your chest at his behest.

He loosens his own tie. “Let me borrow that for a sec,” he says, turning to the one who took the garment from him.

The crowd whistles. But so far, with how fast-paced the events are unfolding, that’s really the least of your concerns.

He kneels down on one knee and sneaks back a look at you before hooking a finger underneath your dress — lifting it a little and letting it hang on your knees to grant him a better view. You lower your head, trying to hide the redness of your cheeks after being slightly exposed for everyone to see.

He grabs your leg and your breath hitches at the sudden touch of his cold fingertips on your calves. He stretches the garter wide, letting you keep your shoe as he places the garment loose around your ankle. He brings your leg up higher, near his face this time, securing the ivory band between his teeth.

The rhythm of your pulse drowns out whatever music and cheers that could be heard within this very large hall. You’re on the edge of your seat, hands on either side of the chair for your own support, providing him better access for when he gets to spaces that are… tighter.

The brushing sensation of the lace tickles you as he swiftly drags the garter along your shin. He hooks a hand behind your other leg, subconsciously squeezing it when he struggles a little at your knee.

Once more, he slides a finger underneath the hems of your dress. He takes one look at you as if to ask for permission, and you nod at him — prodding him to go on. At that, he slowly lifts the chiffon garment, burying himself underneath it, and you couldn’t stop your shivers from locking your muscles in tight.

Undeniably, you feel your insides coil at his now-dangerous proximity to your private area. You feel the garter hugging your skin tighter when it reaches your upper thigh before it slaps your skin in his release, causing a bolt of heat to shoot down your center.

Abruptly, you feel a sharp sting when something sunk into the soft skin of your thigh as quickly as it left. Your eyes widen for a brief moment, making you bring a hand up to your mouth.

Did he just…

At that he gets out of your dress, standing on his feet. The groom and the bachelors applaud but he seems unaffected by them.

He extends his hand out to you, making you release what breath you didn’t realize you were holding — your eyes dead fixed on each other as he helps you out of your seat.

You’ve since tuned out any noise from the people around you, especially now that you’re distracted by the new, tingling sensation of soft lace rubbing and tickling between your thighs.

The bride comes up to you, hugging you and screaming at you, overjoyed as if whatever the fuck just happened calls for an even bigger celebration than her own wedding. You look for your partner, only to be met with his back as he heads for the exit. That becomes his cue to take his leave, nowhere to be found for the rest of the evening.

…

In the later hours, you barely speak (or rather, barely respond properly) to other people. You’re tipsy from what little amount of wine and cocktails you had drunk and so far, you only seem interested in learning about Sakusa Kiyoomi — how he’s a professional volleyball player for one of Japan’s top leagues and is without a doubt one of the best you’ll ever see in the country.

Your friends even warn you about him being too frank and too clean, but who on earth would complain about the latter? But the thing that you still can’t wrap your head around is the fact that he rarely ever shows interest in just anyone. “He must’ve really liked you, or else he never would have agreed to that,” one of his friends tells you — some words you’re trying to not get too hyped about.

The last of all the absurd wedding traditions is where the groom carries his bride to their room, and you all take that as your signal to leave as well. It’s pretty late but you still haven’t gotten over your high from earlier. And with this place being the same hotel where most guests are checked in, you silently hope to at least bump into him again, checking at every turn as you make your way to your hotel room. But again, he’s nowhere to be seen, and you’re dead set on denying your futile longing if anyone asks.

Feeling uneasy, you get out of your clothes, leaving them and your other belongings on the floor of your bathroom, and find yourself soaking in a warm bath. You’re frustrated — half due to feeling you have unfinished business and half due to the possibility that you’re romanticizing your little encounter more than you should.

The warm bath should’ve helped by now, but the knotting feeling in the pit of your stomach is only welling up inside you. Resting your head on the edge of the tub, you close your eyes, repeating the moments over and over in your head, with each account of the memory almost as potent as when you had experienced it hours ago.

Finishing up in your late-night bath, your attention is called to the sound of your phone receiving a text.

…

Text message from unknown

Today 2:00 AM

:Are you still up?

:I hope you don’t mind. I had Komori ask for your number from the bride.

Komori? You had your guess — or hopes up, more likely. But no way, it couldn’t be.

Who’s this?:

Text message from unknown

Today 2:01 AM

:It’s Kiyoomi. Can I come over?

——

Three hours. It has been nearly three hours since you last saw him.

A dim, ambient yellow emanates from the two lamps on your nightstands, one on either side of the bed, your only sources of light. You sit on the edge of your bed, restless, mindlessly tapping the heel of your foot to the floor, taking deep breaths as your anticipation wells up in your chest.

Five minutes. That was how long it took for you to come up with an answer.

You have done your part in reminding yourself that you just met the man today. You’re blatantly aware that that important bit of information holds him against your better judgment. Even so, you’re meek to dismiss the biggest warning signs over the slightest doubts that… Maybe he means well? I don’t even know what he wants. But what could he possibly want at 2 in the morning?

And as for you, well, what could you possibly want dressing up like that?

…

Twenty minutes. It had been twenty minutes since you replied to his text with your hotel room number.

Clad only in the hotel-provided bathrobe that covers you only up to your thighs, you clump the blue linen fabric in your balled fist, further exposing your thighs, unarmed with the first thing to do or say once he gets here — once he sees how you chose to present yourself.

The suspense is killing you. Your own imagination running amok causes you to put a hand in between your crossed legs. Breaths, labored. Your bottom lip, red and plump from your constant, thoughtless nibbling. And worst of all, your own velvet walls, twitching.

Maybe this is a bad idea, you realize, prompting you to get up and throw on some pants, underwear, anything. Except you’re brought to a halt when…

2:30 AM — it was what it said on the digital clock on your nightstand when you heard three full knocks coming from the other side of the door.

Your body makes an involuntary turn towards the door, striding slowly as you tighten the belt of your robe, a minor sting lacing around your stomach. You can feel blood rushing to your cheeks, heart pulsating when your hand makes contact with the cold doorknob.

After having heard no follow-up nor signal from the other side of the door, you would have believed that your senses fooled you the first time you heard knocking. Would have, if it weren’t for the tall man in a gray hoodie and black sweatpants standing in front of you. It doesn’t surprise you that even in the later hours, his pretty face is still concealed behind a mask.

“It’s you,” you say, partly as a greeting and partly to convince yourself he’s real.

His eyes trail your form from up to down, black orbs deep as night studying you torturously slow. You don’t know what it’s for but you find it safer to assume that it’s judgment coming from him, making you fiddle with your hair, looking away as you’re suddenly conscious of how you look.

“It’s me. Aren’t you gonna let me in, ___?” he inquires, tone as monotonous as ever but you don’t miss the smirk in his voice at his mention of your name. The very first time you hear your name roll off his tongue, it knocks the breath out of your lungs and sends you to a near-cardiac arrest.

You take a step back before turning your back to him, leading the way to your bedroom.

Keeping a clear head proves to be quite the task. You’re careful not to let him detect any nervousness from you but you know that to be a lost cause when the mere sound of the door closing shut behind him causes you to flinch, not to mention the hairs that prickle all over your body when he suddenly runs the back of his fingers along your spine.

You gulp, crossing your arms tight around your chest, covering yourself up a little bit as you gather the courage to even turn around.

Looking at him over your shoulder, you pick up that he’s also somewhat keeping a distance from you. Like he’s waiting for something from you, a signal perhaps? Your lips subconsciously part in your musing but you’re unable to mutter a single word.

Raising a brow at you, he asks, “you’ve got questions?” sounding more like a fact than a query.

“Well, you— uhm… you disappeared all of a sudden…” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers as you turn to face him entirely.

“And?”

Scratching the back of your neck, you reluctantly ask, “I don’t know, I guess I just— where had you gone off to? And… Why did you come over?”

The first time his eyes leave your form, he cranes his head back, hands digging into the pockets of his hoodie as he thinks of an answer. When he doesn’t say anything, you add, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you—”

“No one’s ever gotten me to be in that kind of position,” he responds and your heart drops over your presumption of where this conversation might lead to.

“Making me go down on my knees and stick my head underneath your skirt like that,” he adds, eyes staring daggers into yours again.

“I didn’t mean for it to… if you’re asking me to apologize then—”

“I’m asking you,” he cuts you off, taking a few steps closer to you, “to be good for me like you were earlier, and then we’ll call it even.”

Your breath hitches as you subconsciously draw one hand to a fist, balling the hems of your robe, feeling a pool of heat growing in your core before you nod your head twice in agreement to his terms.

His figure towers over yours as he tilts your chin up with a finger, “Not like that, ___. I want you to say it.”

“…I’ll be good for you, Kiyoomi.”

Soon, his hands are moving to the bands of his mask but before he could tug on them, you interrupt him. “Wait—” you pause, your eyelashes fluttering, making him cock a brow in response. “Allow me?”

At that, he relaxes his stance, letting you do as you please. One side of his face is golden where the light touches, dark brown where it doesn’t. And for the third time today, you’re rewarded with his soft, captivating features that he tends to deprive others of in his aversion to dirt.

You try to brush off the thought but it’s so hard to dismiss the fact that he’s so good looking. You know you’re never going to get enough of him.

He pulls you in slowly, ridiculously big arms wrapping around you, his touch embedded with a bit of care in contrast to his daggers for words. He presses your tits and stomach flat against his taut stomach as he holds you by the small of your back.

The feeling of need for your mouth to be occupied grows but you wait for him patiently. Even now, his eyes study you, looking as if he has something to say.

“Fuck it,” he cusses after what seemed like a debate in his head. “You’re so pretty.”

If you thought his features looked soft, his lips definitely felt much softer. His kisses are heavy with need, betraying what composure he let on earlier.

You roam your hands across his biceps that feel hard to the touch, hands finding solace on his broad shoulders, melting into his hold as you find the taste of his mouth finer, and far more intoxicating, than the liquors you indulged in today.

He trails a hand lower to grab your ass, unintentionally pulling on the skirt of your robe. You moan into the kiss upon the brush of a cold breeze past your slightly exposed bottom. 

He’s the first to pull away and you whine at the abrupt separation.

“Lie down.” He runs his fingers through his locks while he tries to catch his breath, eyes half-lidded, pupils dilated, his signature bass deeper than usual. Before you could submit to his request, he places a soft, wet kiss on your cheek, surprising you by pulling on the strings of your robe.

“Kiyoomi!” you whine in your shock, hands automatically crossing over your exposed chest but he pays no mind to it. Instead, he begins to trail kisses from the crook of your neck up to your jaw.

“Mm,” you purr when he hits a sweet spot on your neck, making him attack that same spot repeatedly and oh so tenderly. Your head cranes back to grant him more access to your neck, your own body betraying your resistance earlier.

Your legs feel like jello at this point with every ounce of defiance leaving your body from how good he peppers your skin with his kisses. Kiyoomi knows what you want, and makes sure you know what he wants. 

He kisses the lobe of your ear once, hot breath fanning your ear as he whispers, “You don’t need to hide from me. And weren’t you the one who promised to be good for me?” He kisses your temple. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let your robe drop to the floor, doing as you’re told. His eyes explore your body, exposed skin burning underneath his half-lidded gaze. Kiyoomi’s cold fingertips caress your side, calluses leaving a faint trail where he touches. You look away in embarrassment but his hand is quick to capture your jaw, thumb and middle finger digging into your cheeks.

“Eyes on me.” His hand wraps loosely around your neck, thumb stroking your throat, making you swallow a lump of saliva in your submission. Next, he reaches for your breast, placing your nipple in between two fingers as he fondles your tit.

There’s a certain tenderness with the way he handles you. A softness in his touch, in stark contrast to his rough demeanor. Big man that knows just how delicate you are compared to him, like you’re something that needs to be treated with utmost care, that if he’s not careful enough, he just might break you.

“Lie down.” Eyes still fixed on his, you lie down and he mirrors you, towering over you as you prop your elbows on the bed, your knees drawn together, pressing against his stomach. 

“Whenever you’re rea–hha!” You let out a gasp when he pulls you by your thighs closer to the edge of the bed, granting him easy access to your entrance. He gets down on his knees, face dangerously close to your cunt. “Keep still, I want to try something.”

“What are you—”

Kiyoomi parts your knees abruptly, eliciting a whimper from you. “Kiyoomi, please,” you whine, he looks at you briefly before turning back to your cunt. He releases a breathy grunt upon seeing your pussy so wet and puffy, clenching before him. Warm breath wafts across your folds before he takes a whiff. “Lavender, huh? Were you preparing?”

Your knees attempt to contract upon his inquiry, but he pins your legs down on both sides.

“This is embarrassing, Kiyoomi.”

“Omi. And I’m sure it is. Who would have guessed that sweet, harmless ___ would lie down in bed, spread wide open for me?” he teases, running his thumb along your slippery slit, making you bite down on your lower lip, eyes rolling back when he starts to rub slow circles on your clit. “Sweet ___, drenched in your own juices, when I haven’t even gotten to half of what I plan to do to you.”

“Ff-fuuuck,” your moans drag out, betraying your own words. “O-omi–mm,” you coo, humming when he inserts two fingers inside you easily, slowly fucking your hole. Your hips buck in a poor attempt to ride his hand, arching when he flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Hm?” he asks before slowly swiping his tongue side to side, alternating between sucking and playing with your clit, and he realizes just how vocal you can get with your purring now filling the room.

“Ha—Omi, I need—hm,” your words are coming out incoherent with how good Kiyoomi’s tongue feels on your clit, but it’s not quite enough. “Fuuuck, fuck me, Omi, please, fuck,” you whisper and it feels like a prayer on your lips, starting to feel your orgasm building up. But right when your hole begins to spasm, Kiyoomi pulls his tongue back, fucking you with a third digit, and you wince at the slight tear.

“What is it, ___?” seeing the smirk plastered on his face causes your entire face to burn up, and at this point, you realize that he’s insistent on making you last out.

“I want to see you too, please.”

…

As if Kiyoomi eating you out isn’t enough to push you over the edge, watching him strip out of his clothes is a whole experience in itself. He’s built as you would expect a professional athlete, but seeing all of him, bare, in the flesh sends your core throbbing in excitement. And though the thought of him being big shouldn’t come as a surprise, you’re forced to inhale air through gritted teeth upon seeing what he packs beneath his trousers — long, girthy, and veiny — fully erect with the tip glinting with precum. Oh he’s big, alright.

His curls drop to his forehead when he looks down, rolling a condom over his hard shaft. He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’ve been practically eye-fucking him. “It’s rude to stare, pretty (nickname),” he says with sarcasm hinted in his voice. Even after seeing each other naked, after letting him taste you, you still feel the need to look away, flustered from just his words.

He aligns himself at your entrance, laughing through his nose at your adorable flushed state. He tilts your chin to look at him, your blown-out irises meeting his black ones. “I told you to look at me, didn’t I?”

“I-I am. Please, Omi.”

He crouches down to your level, muscles crunching and contracting with every movement, hands propping beside you, trapping you as he captures your lips gingerly. Your stomach locks in tight with the light slap of his dick on top of it. Your fingers instinctively wrap around it making him grunt into the deepening kiss. He bucks into your hand, hard cock slippery from the condom but he suddenly pulls out with dissatisfaction all over his face.

“Fuck it. I want to feel all of you,” he says as he impatiently discards the condom. Not a second later, he recaptures your mouth and your hand forms a ring once again around his dick. His cock feels warmer to the touch, slick with his own precum. Kiyoomi clearly finds it better this way, humming into the kiss as he lets you pump his dick.

Next thing you know, he’s on his feet, him in all his 6 '4 might, towering over you. You sit up and you find your face levelled with his cock. Through thick lashes you look up at him, jerking his shaft wet as you prop your free hand on his hip.

He welcomes that look on you. If he isn’t, he wouldn’t be sweeping your hair behind your ear. The corner of his lip upturns as if he wishes to entertain the thought you just had.

You really just want to please him.

Eyes looking up at him, you slide the expanse of your tongue up and down across his shaft, mirroring how he ate you out earlier, tip of your tongue flicking at his foreskin.

“Hm,” he huffs out, head craning back, cussing and grunting from how good your tongue feels.

“I want to make you feel good, Omi,” you say, with a glint of bashfulness in your voice.

With steady breaths, you try to take as much of him as you can, but you’re only able to take in not even half of his cock when you feel a slight gag behind your throat. You take a deep breath through your nose to control your reflex. “Fuuuck,” Kiyoomi groans, cock feeling tight around your throat and to say your own pussy is drenched is an understatement. You know just how much you’ve been making a mess as you grind on the sheets. 

With tears beginning to prickle your eyes, you bob your head, hand pumping his dick as an extension of your mouth. Kiyoomi’s hand caresses the side of your face while you fill yourself up with his cock. His abs begin to flex even harder in front of you in an attempt to prevent himself from fucking your throat. He knows you just wouldn’t be able to take it.

The second he feels his cock throb he pulls out of you.

“Stop,” he says it more to himself really, unwilling to finish in your mouth. “Sorry, we made a little mess.” He uses his thumb to wipe off the mix of precum and drool that dripped to the side of your face. His expression, both stoic and yet oh, so endearing. You suppose it’s part of his allure, him coming off ominous even as he peppers you with tenderness.

“You really are lovely, ___, and I’m going to cum in you, not your mouth,” he tells you so matter-of-factly, to which you can only nod in obedience.

He pushes you by your chest gently, making you lie down and wrap your legs around his waist. And without warning, he thrusts all of his cock inside you, making you scream both in pleasure and pain, your own wetness allowing him to slide into you with ease but it doesn’t help with the stretch. It’s not an exaggeration to say he’s the biggest you’ve ever had. And his pace is unforgiving, orienting you with the stamina of a professional athlete.

“O-omi,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as you clutch onto his biceps. His length leaves your walls almost as soon as he pounds balls deep into you. Moments later, your pain turns purely into pleasure, finding yourself smiling in your own euphoric high the more he thrusts into you, hitting your sweet spot.

“If only you could see how pretty you look when you’re being so good to me, taking my cock like that.” He rests his forehead on top of yours, his dark eyes hooded and boring into you, planting soft and sloppy kisses in between sentences.

“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop–” Your brain is rewired by his cock with every roll of his hips. Every new detail of him is a new engraving in your memory, and every memory of him is an experience – from the sight of his soft curls beginning to stick slick to his forehead, the feeling of his biceps contracting beneath your palms, the clashing sounds of your moans against his grunts and shallow breathing, to every wet slap of his hips on your cunt.

You can’t get enough of him. The obscene thought of fucking a man you had just met and know so little of should have scared you. But it is, without a doubt, bringing you over the edge, making your walls knot at the very fact.

You start to feel tears well up in your eyes when he hooks your legs around his arms, and you become a teary-eyed, whining mess at the ample friction on both your clit and your g-spot.

“You’re even prettier when folded, fuck.” His mouth is on yours once again, tongue so familiar with your own at this point. He props himself up higher as he wantonly jerks his hips to brush over your clit. “Cum for me, baby.”

“Omi!” arching into him, you crane your head back as you let out a high-pitched cry of his name, your walls fluttering as you come undone around his cock, nails burying crescents into his skin, and you swear you hear Kiyoomi utter a curse under his breath.

And he doesn’t stop fucking you. He keeps a steady rhythm, coaxing the buildup of your second orgasm seconds after your first.

“I-I want to make you feel good too, Omi, please,” you chirp, utterly intent on committing to your promise.

“You do feel good, baby.” You try with all your might to answer but your walls are too busy coiling as he fucks you through your second high. “You don’t know how good your tight pussy feels around my cock.” The corners of his mouth turn upwards, and albeit only slightly, the sight of it is a high in itself.

Before you know it, he’s able to prop himself up with one hand on a side plank, roughly rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers, and you’re losing your mind over how he keeps hitting your g-spot while he teases your sensitive bud. Your erratic heartbeat all but fills your chest when you notice his pace has gotten uneven, his breath, shaky.

“Omi, I’m-I’m—” He takes one full thrust in you, releasing the loudest groan he’s had tonight. His cock twitches inside of you, stuffing you full of his hot cum, preventing you from finishing your sentence when you reach your own high at the same time as his. His propelled hand doesn’t falter even when he’s on the brink of collapse from his own orgasm, and you can tell he’s avoiding crushing you with his form.

He pants, slowly pulling out of you, and flops as he rests his head on top of your stomach, the both of you taking a second to catch your breaths.

He plants a kiss on your stomach before he leaves you briefly, heading towards the bathroom. You close your eyes for a bit, devoid of strength to worry about him leaving you. You jolt up when you suddenly feel a towel on your cunt.

“Hold still,” he tells you for the second or third time today, finding him cleaning up the cum that’s beginning to drip out of your pussy. And at this point, you’ve lost count of the number of times he has taken you by surprise.

Once done, he makes his way back to the bathroom to dispose of the used towel properly, making you chuckle at how even when he’s exhausted to the brim, his own tendencies never leave him.

Finally, he sits down and takes the space beside you. Still catching his breath with his back slightly hunched, he stares forward at nothing.

You, on the other hand, know better by now than to probe him, and so you wait for him to speak his mind.

“No lie. I really thought you were the prettiest earlier,” he confesses all of a sudden and you almost feel your eyes popping out of their sockets. “Still do.”

“What… happens now?” Truth be told, you really didn’t want to bring it up, but the question has since welled up in your stomach even before he fucked all rhyme and reason out of your brain.

“I wanna try something else,” he utters, “something where I get to wake up next to you in the morning.” And you realize you were worried for nothing.

Smiling to yourself, you respond, “I’d like that.”

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[nightingale-prompts]

You are not Special- DC X DP Prompt

Interdimensional God-like beings are not known for their patience, however it looked like they had gotten lucky.

This being that had been summoned against its will to their universe was actually quite calm. They sat back on a makeshift throne made by the cultists that had brought them here. Its body was the form of a young man draped in silk. He paid little mind to the cult bowing and scraping at his feet as he absentmindedly examined his nails for anything under them. They were as pristine as his marble-like form.

"You know cults get a bad reputation in these modern times." He said not looking up at the heroes who had invaded his sanctuary intent on sealing him away. "Not without cause of course. But not every cult is evil. As oxymoronic as that sounds. But it used to mean a group of people devoted to their god of choice, no different than any other religion except they lived solely to dedicate their lives to it. No tricks or schemes, just beliefs. None of that sacrifice or blood here though. I like cleanliness and a good batch of dessert for my alters."

"We aren't here to give your offerings." Batman said simply.

The teen stretched lazily and shrugged.

"You are free to just pray, take a rest, eat, or do whatever you want."

"You don't belong here. You must return to your own realm." Superman said fimly but cordially.

The cultists panicked as they looked between their god and the heroes. Some had disdain etched on their faces others had sadness.

"Don't belong? I do what I want. Who are you people to tell ME what to do? Do you own this planet? This universe?" The god challenged.

"We are the protectors of this planet. Surely you understand that we can't let you stay here using humans like servants." Superman retorted.

Constantine had a bad feeling about what came next as he got between everyone to speak.

"Sorry, forgive him. We don't want to offend. It's just that our universe has had enough beings like you causing issues in the past. We are a bit exhausted because every major event seems to hit our planet. We are a bit defensive."

The teens's lip curled.

"Do you think you are the only planet with such woes? How conceited. What you believe that your little planet is so special that it is the only one subject to the powers of beings you can't control? As we speak there a thousands of beings influencing this world that have a bigger effect than what I'm currently doing. Are you tired of being the playthings of the universe? Bah! The universe doesn't care one bit what goes on on this little planet over the billions of planets in this universe. You are no more special than a bit of algae on a frozen world." The teen sneered.

"But that doesn't change the fact that we would like one less threat to deal with," Batman said as Constantine tried to shut him up. "Even if you do not care about humans, we care what you can do to us."

"A good point but I never said I didn't care. I'm actually fond of humans but no more fond of them than any other lifeforms. There are billions of aliens in this universe alone. But not one is special because all life is special. Not one is better. But any damage I could possibly do to you could easily be done by the many unseen gods of this realm. These beings have built this world from those that actively created it, ignore it, and those that don't even realize it exists. Could you believe that your own creator doesn't know you are there? It's actually very common."

"You're dodging the question and talking in circles. We just want you to leave." Batman sighed irritably.

"You keep telling me to leave. I have just arrived but I've also always been here. Is this how you greet me?" The teen crossed his arms.

"Are you a god of this world?" Wonder Woman stepped forward this time. "You dress like that of a Roman god."

"Do you like it? I got it from Rome a few thousand years ago."

Well, he never failed to turn something into a compliment, that's for sure.

"But that's a complicated question. If you're asking if I made your universe then, no. If your asking if it exists because of me then, yes. It exists because I do. It's my nature. So I'm not a god. I'm a law of nature." The boy leaned back and kicked his feet childishly.

"You look like a kid." Clark blurted.

"Well... you're right. But you didn't have to point it out." He pouted.

"I mean, you just look...like a person. Not a force of nature." Clark quickly corrected.

"I look like what you can perceive me as. Can't ask a two-dimensional creature to understand three dimensions. Think of me as an anthropomorphic personification of a concept." The teen stood up finally and walked around his bowing worshippers.

"And what are you?" Batman said stiffly as the boy reached him.

"I am the Void. The absence of force or untethered space and infinite possibilities. A place of raw unprocessed energy. So if I exist then a tethered space with one string of possibilities exists. Think string theory." The boy laughed.

"Wait, I know what you are. You're an Ancient, an Endless. I thought I'd get a break from your lot after Morphosis." Constantine said.

The group turned to Constantine in surprise, not surprised that he knew what the kid was but that he had done this before.

"Look, kid. Your lot don't show themselves often. Especially not in front of so many people. You'd usually lay low among mortals." Constantine said suspicious of the young Endless. "Do the others know you are playing around?"

The teen presses his lips together. He glares like someone has ruined his game.

"Should I try summoning them and ask." Constantine smirked, he knew he found his in.

"You wouldn't." He frowned.

"I would." Constantine said "Unless you want to go home on your own."

The boy tried to protest but a portal opened on its own and a hand reached out grabbing the boy by the ear.

"What are you doing in the mortal realm this time?! I told you to focus on fixing the timelines not playing god like a child!" The voice boomed.

"But Clockwork-" The teen whined as he was dragged through the portal "I was just pulling a prank. I swear!"

The boy's voice was muffled and distant as he got to the other side. Then the prtal closed and it was over.

The room went silent.

"He was right. There is nothing special about any life form over another. But that also means he is no different than a human child and held to the same standards." Constantine said lighting a cigarette before leaving the ruins. "You can handle the rest right?"