#but maybe on something you worked really hard on and would like lots of people to see

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Spooky Call.

Spencer Reid x Hotchner!reader

Summary: When your boyfriend gets a call from you, the last thing he expects to hear is that you're being held at a police station for decorating your house.

Words: 2,2k.

TW: fem!reader. mention of haley's death, jack, crime, murder, blood (fake). reader was arrested (obviously). implication that the reader is wearing jeans and shirt (not very descriptive). reader is hotch's sister. established relationship. spencer being the standard. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This was the last fic of my october special, but I had problems and never posted it, so I had to change the plot a bit and here it is.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You’ve always hated asking for help. It wasn’t just a matter of pride—it was the belief that you could, and should, handle everything yourself. Life, however, had a cruel way of reminding you that it didn’t always work like that. Everyone needs help sometimes. At least, that’s what people—well-meaning friends, family, even your boyfriend—kept telling you. We live in a society; there are people who love you; they’d want to help, they’d say. Blah, blah, blah. The sentiment was kind, sure, but it never stuck with you. Not really.

Today, though, maybe you should’ve listened.

All you wanted was to throw your nephew a belated Halloween party. It wasn’t like you were planning anything crazy. Just a few decorations, some music, and a bit of creativity—how hard could it be? Nothing about it seemed complicated or dangerous, not at first. You’d seen your brother overwhelmed trying to keep things normal for Jack, and you figured this was something you could handle on your own. Something small but meaningful.

Somehow, things got out of your control, and now you were sitting in your boyfriend's car in the police station parking lot trying to organize your thoughts to explain to him how you had ended up arrested in the first place.

“This has a perfectly reasonable and not at all criminal explanation. I swear.” You began to speak as you noticed by the watch on his wrist that three minutes of complete silence had already passed.

It had only been a year since you started dating officially, and there were still some things you were afraid Spencer would see, especially the things that got you in trouble for doing stupid things. You'd liked him for a long time, even before he realized you could be more than just his friend and his boss's sister. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin everything and make him run away in terror, even though that didn't sound very much like him or his values.

“This better be a good explanation,” Reid finally said, his voice calm but tinged with confusion. He placed the car keys down in the cupholder and turned to look at you fully. “Because right now, I’m struggling to understand how decorating your house could get you arrested.”

You squirmed in your seat, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter. “It’s…complicated,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. That was the only thing that kept repeating in your mind.

“I’m sure it is,” he finally said, his tone dry but still patient, his gaze never wavering.

You exhaled sharply, dragging your hands down your face. “Okay. So, I started with simple decorations—some cobwebs, pumpkins, and all the usual stuff. But it just…it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do something big. Something really cool.”

He raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to continue.

“So, I got this idea,” you said, hesitating. You could already feel the heat rising in your face. “I took a garbage bag, stuffed it with paper to make it look like a body, and then—” You paused, your voice dropping slightly. “Then I added some fake blood. A lot of fake blood.”

His eyes widened, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying to hold back a laugh. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” you admitted, wincing. “But it looked amazing! For like…five minutes.” You gestured vaguely toward the dashboard, trying to find the words to defend yourself. “I might have spilled some of the fake blood on the lawn. And…it might’ve looked a little too real.”

Too real, extra real.

“A little?” Spencer asked, incredulous. “You mean realistic enough to make the neighbors call the cops?”

You winced, expecting him to think you were ridiculous—or worse, stupid. But then, to your surprise, his lips quirked into a soft laugh.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me!” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest when you saw the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

Yeah, maybe you didn't want him to think you were weird, but you didn't like being laughed at either.

“I’m not laughing,” he said, though the hint of amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“You are absolutely laughing,” you huffed, your pout deepening. “It’s not funny, Spencer.”

He took a deep breath, finally managing to suppress his laughter—mostly. His hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. The warmth in his hazel eyes softened the sting of your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, though his lips still twitched with the ghost of a smile. “I really am, angel. But you have to admit, you went a little overboard with the ‘terrifying’ concept.”

And there it was, the kind of sweetness that had made you fall for him so hard. The kind you'd expect to receive without question after spending at least half an hour locked in a filthy cell.

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, maybe. But in my head, it wasn’t that bad,” you said weakly. “It just…went a little wrong.”

“A little?” he repeated, his eyebrows raising again. “You got arrested. You scared half the neighborhood into thinking they’d stumbled onto a crime scene.”

“At least it wasn’t illegal!” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively. “I didn’t actually hurt anyone. I just made a mess. With fake blood.”

Spencer’s gaze dropped to your hands, where smears of red clung stubbornly to your skin. His eyes flicked to your clothes—your jeans, your shirt, both stained with dried streaks of crimson. A slow grin spread across his face.

“It wasn’t illegal, but now you look like you walked off the set of a slasher movie,” he said, his voice filled with teasing affection. “Here—and here.” He gestured to a streak of red on your shoulder, then another on your cheek.

You were about to protest when he suddenly leaned in. His face was so close now, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could say another word, his lips brushed softly against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that caught you off guard. You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. Then, as if it had all been a slow, perfect dance, you melted into him. His lips were warm and tender, the kiss slow and sweet, like a quiet promise that everything, even in the chaos of your night, was going to be okay.

When he pulled back, your breath caught, your chest fluttering in that way only he could make you feel. His grin was wide, playful, but there was something else in his eyes—a depth, a tenderness that made your heart thud. You blinked up at him, still dazed from the warmth of his kiss.

“For the record,” he murmured, his voice soft, his lips still dangerously close to yours, “I never thought you were a criminal. Just a little…overly enthusiastic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, warm sound bubbling out of you. “Overly enthusiastic,” you echoed, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it.”

“And messy,” he added, his eyes twinkling as they lingered on the fake blood smeared across your face.

“Don’t push your luck, Dr. Reid,” you warned, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound melting into the quiet of the car. He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss that felt like a promise—quiet, tender, and full of unspoken reassurance. The warmth of his touch seeped into you, and you closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the comfort of his presence.

As he pulled back, he studied you with that signature look—the one that always made you feel like he could see straight into your soul. His brow furrowed slightly, and you recognized that expression well: the one he wore when he was about to ask something important, when he wanted to understand you better. It was a look that never failed to make your heart flutter, even if it made you feel vulnerable.

“Okay,” he said slowly, his tone gentler now. “I get wanting to make the decorations amazing, but why was it so important? Why go all out to the point of, well…” He gestured vaguely toward you, his lips twitching again. “Fake crime scene levels of effort?”

You hesitated, his question hitting you like a wave. You knew the answer, but speaking it aloud felt heavier than you had anticipated. It was as though the words themselves had a weight you hadn’t been prepared to carry. You lowered your gaze, absently picking at the hem of your shirt as you fought to find the right words, your mind tangled in emotions that were hard to articulate.

Reid didn’t push, though. His silence was patient, waiting for you to open up at your own pace. It was one of the things you adored about him—the way he didn’t rush, didn’t demand. He just let you be, trusting you would share when you were ready.

Finally, you exhaled a shaky breath and met his eyes, the vulnerability in your voice clear as you spoke. “It’s not just about the decorations,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s about Jack.”

His expression shifted immediately, his eyes softening with understanding but remaining focused as you continued.

“I just…” You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I want to be the perfect aunt for him, you know? Someone who makes things better, even if just for a little while. He’s been through so much—losing Hayley, seeing my brother juggle everything just to make sure Jack’s okay…” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your hands to steady yourself. “He’s only a kid. He deserves to feel happy and safe and…loved.”

Maybe that last word was too personal, and maybe your boyfriend noticed.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent offer of comfort. You took his hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you enough to keep going.

“I know I can’t replace his mom, and I’d never try to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought maybe, just maybe, if I did this party right—if I made it something really special—it could be a distraction. Something fun. Something he could look back on and smile about instead of just…” You trailed off, biting your lip as the words lodged in your throat.

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “Instead of just remembering what he’s lost,” he finished for you, his voice soft and understanding.

You nodded, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah.”

The car was quiet for a moment, the weight of your confession settling between you. Then Spencer shifted closer, his free hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek. The tenderness in his touch made your chest ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he said gently, his voice steady and sure. “You’re already doing more for him than you realize. Just by being there, by loving him the way you do…that’s what matters. Not decorations or parties or anything else.”

His words hit you squarely in the heart, and you let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a fraction. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” you admitted, leaning into his touch. “I didn’t want to mess it up and end up in a cell.”

Reid smiled softly, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw as he held your gaze. “You didn’t mess it up,” he said firmly. “Okay, maybe the decorations were a little unconventional,” he added with a playful glint in his eye. “But your heart was in the right place. And Jack knows that. He loves you and thinks you’re wonderful, just like I do.”

You felt your breath catch at his words, the warmth in his eyes making your cheeks flush despite everything. “You’ve really become good at this, you know,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “The whole comforting and making me blushing thing.”

He let out a soft chuckle, giving your cheek a gentle tap with his thumb before pulling back slightly. “I might have read eleven books to brush up on a few things and be better,” he said, his tone light but not dismissive.

You chuckled, the sound lifting the tension that had been pulling at your chest. “Eleven books? You really went all in on this, huh?”

His arm slipped around your shoulders, drawing you closer, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you grounding and reassuring. “When it’s you,” he said softly, “I’d go even further than that.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of the world ease off your shoulders. A quiet thought lingered in your mind, one you hadn’t been able to put into words until now. “But…sometimes, don’t you think I’m weird?” you asked, the vulnerability creeping in despite yourself.

Please say no.

“Weird? No,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I think you’re perfect.” He paused for a moment, then added with a soft laugh, “And every day, I’m grateful you don’t think I’m weird either.”

You smiled, the knot in your chest loosening, the weight of uncertainty fading as his words settled in. “Guess we both can be a little weird then,” you said, the truth of it comforting you more than you expected.

He chuckled, the sound easy and light, as he pulled you a little closer, holding you in a way that spoke of quiet promises. “It’s perfect for me.”

[shadowykittengladiator]

I disagree actually. I stand by my earlier words. Joker is not that important that a king would have to come from an another dimension to kill him. Joker didn't get ressurected that many times, there have been people that died and came back a lot more than Joker in DC canon. Including Jason, Bruce, Damian, Talia, Ra's, Superman, Superboy, the entire thing with the Black Lanterns really. It can't be because Joker killed many people either. There are people in both DC canon and earth history that killed a lot more than he did. Danny would need to visit a large number of people before he comes anywhere near Joker in that list.

I mean, let's be honest, we know why Danny is headcannoned to kill Joker a lot. Because people care about Jason Todd and wants him to get revenge. Never mind the fact that Jason doesn't want to kill Joker, he specifically wants Bruce to kill Joker. I mean I don't like Jason but I can still understand people who do. People in general disregard a lot in comic canons while writing fics, Which is,like, fine This isn't criticism by the way. It doesn't need to make sense in canon sense for it to be enjoyable. This is DC we are talking about after all. Comics are a mess.

Also I don't think Bruce would mourn Joker. Not even in the sense you talked about. Year 1 Batman might have given a thought or two, maybe felt pity for a second, that Joker wasn't able to change his life, before moving on with his life, completely forgetting him. But after Jason became the red hood in the timeline? No way. It's has been proven time and time again that Bruce wants the Joker dead, that he wants to kill him but is holding himself back due to his principles.

Just to be clear again, it is a bit hard to convey opinions in text. This is not criticism, don't come after me people. Overall, I enjoyed this discussion and the prompt.

By the way, if we are going with infinite realms being infinite, there must be other knights working for Danny. And with many people like Joker, Danny obviously can't go after them all. So instead;

-----------------------------------------------

He sends one of his knights. One of the inexperienced ones. Joker is after all, not as important as someone like Darkseid, who has been a thorn in Danny's side for some time now.

Batman is skeptical at first after all, when a knight in an armor appears and explains to him. A dead dimension? People Joker killed wanting revenge? Joker unbalanced life and death so much he must stand trial before the king? He doesn't believe it.

He sends word to Constantine, who confirms Infinite Realms exists and there has, in fact, been a new king but he doesn't know much more than that. A word to Captain Marvel confirms it's a death dimension and the new king is a good king. Marvel would know, he is friends with the new king, apparently. Diana confirms Joker might have been broken the balance and it is possible this might gather the attention of the king of the Infinite Realms.

Batman makes some more research after that but it is enough to him. The knight asked Joker to be delivered in a days time so Batman prepares to go Arkham Asylum only to find cave empty of Jason, who has been restlessly pacing while angrily muttering something.

He arrives at Arkham Asylum just in time to see Jason knock Joker out. He watches him for a bit before making himself known.

"Are you going to stop me?" His son asks. Batman doesn't answer. Instead he takes out a......... present tape?

--------------------------------------------

"Is that the Joker?" The young knight asks them when they show up at the agreed time. He sounds bemused, seeing Joker wrapped like a present and bound with tape. But that wasn't the funniest part. Courtesy of Dick, Joker looked like a clown. And actual clown this time, with red nose and wig.

He also had various bruises from various people all over his face but nobody cared about that.

"We figured your king might like it." Dick answers as Nightwing.

The knight coughs and Bruce doesn't need to have perfect reading skills to know he is trying not to laugh.

The knight takes of his helmet and offers them a smile. He reaches out for a handshake. He couldnt be older then eighteen but that is not what Bruce focuses.

A gasp by his side, from Red Hood, makes him realize he is not hallucinating.

Bruce knows this boy. Like he knows the girl he failed to save because he couldn't solve Riddler's puzzle in time, or the girl that drowned in the sewers because Bruce wasn't strong enough, or the boy that was stabbed by his father because he he didn't want to join a gang, or the boy that froze to death the last time Dr.Freeze escaped Arkham, or the child that burned to death due to Firefly and to this day they don't know who they were.

He knows this boy. Aiden Miller. Got kidnapped by Joker. The clown told them they were on a time limit. Him and Jason, as Robin at the time, managed to find him in time, only to find Aiden's body completely brutalized. Joker played with them again. Aiden's parents were also killed in the attack. Bruce made sure the boy had a funeral for him.

He shakes the hand of the boy he couldn't save and watches as he takes the Joker. Bruce thought this Infinite realms was just another afterlife governed by a God. And it was. But it has to be more than that. This boy that died as a preteen grew up to a fine young man and came back to bring justice to his killer. Even if he was a ghost.

He needs to talk to Constantine and Marvel. See if they can help him join Jokers trial and get him and his family a seat on his execution. Jason's birthday was coming, his boy would appreciate it.

He wondered if this King of the Infinite Realms needed a lawyer for Jokers trial. He is Batman after all, and Batman was a master of many things.

-------------------------------------------

Damn, I don't know how to write in English😮‍💨😑

DPxDC Legal Power

Batman: You can not punish the Joker

Batman: You are no judge, jury, and executioner

Danny Fenton, standing over Joker's beaten body: Actually, I am

Danny Fenton, raising the Creep Stick up: I am the High King of Infinite Realms, and this bitch has been resurrected more than once

Danny Fenton, smacking Joker like a piñata: With the use of a pool of some nasty smelling ecto, mind you, but it puts him under my jurisdiction nonetheless

Danny Fenton, smiling at Batman as Joker is wheezing and trying to crawl away: So I am the judge, jury, and executioner for him since I'm the highest power in a Realm where he is a denizen

Danny Fenton, catching the Joker by the ankle and dragging him back: And as the King, I hereby sentence him to death by a repetitive use of The Creep Stick over his whole body

Batman: ...

Red Hood, with a bowl of popcorn: Do you mind switching The Creep Stick for a crowbar?

[delulu4anime]

𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔗𝔬 𝔓𝔩𝔬𝔱 𝔈𝔩𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫⇥ ꜱɪᴛ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ⇥ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱᴋɪᴘ!ᴛᴇᴛꜱᴜʀᴏ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ x ᴄʟɪɴɢʏɢꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʀʏ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ⇥ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴜʟᴏɢʏ⇥ ᴜꜱᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴛʀɪᴘꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ. ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ. ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴄᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʀᴜɴ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ.

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ⇥ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ ᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ, ᴘɪᴠ, ᴅᴏɢɢʏ, ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴏʀᴀʟ, ᴏɴᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛʏ ꜱᴘᴀɴᴋ

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ⇥ 1.5ᴋ+

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇʀᴍᴏɴ⇥ 🔞ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇʏᴀʀᴅ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴇᴅ. ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴡ🔞- ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴡʜᴏ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ? ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜱɪx. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ɪɴ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴅᴀʏ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!

🪦ᴛʜᴇ ʜʏᴍɴꜱ⇥ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ/ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴ' ᴍʏ ʟᴜɴɢꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴀ/ɴᴏᴛ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ɪᴛ/ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ/ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ/ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ɴᴇᴄᴋ, ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴀ?/ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴇʀᴀꜱᴇ ɪᴛ

brat

/brat/

noun DEROGATORY•HUMOROUS

a child, typically a badly behaved one.

    Coincidentally that would the perfect word to describe you right now. Kuroo knew that he had been traveling a lot due to his job at the Japan Volleyball Association. With his promotions and pulling in more youth to enjoy volleyball just as much as he did, he was able to get people like Ushijima to come back to play for Japan. He felt like his phone was ringing off the hook, emails seemed to be never ending, and a few hours of sleep due to different time zones was a norm. It was something you understood and you were there for him. Always supporting him, always making sure he was taken care of. You usually didn't mind being away from him because you were just as busy with work and uni classes. Usually. 

    Kuroo had come back from a recent trip that had taken him away from you for nearly two weeks. Video calling was starting to become a nuisance because unless he was sitting in his hotel room the screen would freeze too much. The bed seemed so much bigger and colder than it usually felt. Wearing his clothes to bed only made you miss him more and when you were extra needy your fingers did nothing to reach the spots he could without even trying. It really wasn't your fault the way you practically tackled him when he got home. Nor was it your fault when you tried to attack him with kisses. No…but what was your fault was the way you continuously pouted and whined as you sat in his office. So much so that he finally had enough. 

If you were gong to be making those noises you would whine while sitting pretty on his lap with him buried in your aching core. You hadn't realized till now that maybe just maybe you shouldn't have been a brat. But you had a hard time expressing yourself properly which often came out in a bratty way instead of simply just saying you missed him. You had to show him which usually worked. However, your boyfriend lacked a little less sleep which meant he had plenty of time to deal with your bratty behavior. It's why you trembled on his lap and you were not allowed to move or else you wouldn't get anything for weeks. The worst punishment for being a brat like you. Your breathing was labored as you looked down to see Kuroo writing down his plans for the next few weeks. He was so easily focused on his work as if you weren't on his lap…on his cock.

    "Baby...please...please let me move." You whine out and Kuroo glance at you for a second before looking back down at his work.

    "No." He said in a firm tone. 

    "T-Tersu...I've already apologized a million times." You whine again. 

    You have the audacity to shift your hips against him for any kind of friction. It causes him to give you a warning swat at your thigh. You immediately stop your movements and tilt your head back to rest it against his shoulder. Your body trembles more and he doesn't even look over at you. His attention moving from the paperwork to his laptop. He shifted so he could start typing an email and it only caused you to clench around him. You could tell his breath shifted when you did so but he went right back to typing. You couldn't help but groan in frustration wondering how he could keep his cool. 

Little did you know that it was taking everything in him to pound into you. He had to keep his word to himself; don't give in. It’s what you deserved after running your bratty mouth a little too much. He continued to type as it filled his at home office and soon his voice filled the space too. Calm and commanding which knew meant he was unhappy with your behavior.

    "You're staying here until I'm done with my work. No more moving, no more whining. Do you understand?" Kuroo said as he shifted again and you swore he did that on purpose. 

You meekly nod your head as you close your eyes. This was simply torture. Listening to him type word after word while you cockwarmed him should be labeled as cruel and unusual punishment. Regardless you responded to him nonetheless.

    "Yes sir."

Kuroo smirked as he heard your response knowing you were going to act right which he was thankful for. He couldn't go anymore time without you. He had missed you so much and you had to ruin it by being a brat. Kuroo leans forward to whisper in your ear and you whimper at the movement. He relished the sight of his girl being so obedient now.

    "Good girl."

A shiver runs down your spine at the praise and you can't help but tighten around him again. He lets out a groan and moves his hands to your hips. You thought he was going to finally move so you decided to sweeten the deal.

    "P-Please...promise I'll never be a brat again."

Kuroo hummed softly at your words as he brushed his thumb over your exposed skin. He had to talk himself off the ledge; keep calm.

    "I don't know if I believe you."

    "Please," You whine loudly. "Promise I'll be good forever. Just wanna move. S' torture."

Kuroo let out a breathy chuckle as he listened to you whine. He let go of your hips and returns to the email he was typing up before.

    "And why should I believe you, princess? You were pretty bratty tonight."

    "Because I hate this punishment." You huff out which only earns you another chuckle from your boyfriend. 

    "Well I hate when you get bratty as soon as I come home. I want to spend time with you too but sometimes I just have to work on a few more things last minute. Doesn't mean I don't love you or don’t want to spend time with you." Kuroo said and you registered his words...really registered them this time.

You knew had the tables been turned you would've been upset about Kuroo being clingy too. With uni class and your full time job it was hard enough as it was to juggle your schedule so you couldn't imagine what it was like in Kuroo's line of work. You let out a sigh and nod your head as you watch the way his fingertips move over the keys. The veins in his hand on the back of his hands running up his arm and under the rolled up sleeves of his work shirt. 

    "I know...just get in my head sometimes is all." You murmur and the silence fills the room again. The only thing filling the space if the clicking of the keys.

That's all he needed to hear to know that you actually meant it. It did fill him with a bit of guilt for doing this and so with one last word typed out he suddenly shoved you forward against his desk. He set a brutal pace as his desk knocked against the wall repeatedly. Pens rolling off the desk, paperwork bunched and crumped in your grasp only to fall down to the floor. You moan out his name over and over again as his grip on your hips is bruising.

    "Missed this so much princess. Feels so good wrapped around me." Kuroo moaned out. 

You reached one hand out to place it against the way so you wouldn't hit your head against the wall. The other reaching back to rest of his abdomen as your ass slams back against him.

    "So hard to control myself with your tight cunt squeezing me like a vice." Kuroo grunted as he felt himself already getting close after nearly an hour and a half of you cockwarming him. 

    "B-Baby m' gonna cum...slow down!" You cry out and he lets out a breathy laugh. 

    "This is what you wanted isn't it? So be a good girl and take it." Kuroo said with harsh thrusts.

    Your combined moans fill his small office and you know the neighbors will have a word with your two tomorrow but you can't bring yourself to care too much at the moment. It all felt too good to care about the punishment or the fact he had been gone for so long. All that mattered was the two of you joined together as one. It was no wonder just a few more thrusts late you both were coming undone together. You cried out for him while he finished inside you with your name of his tongue like a sweet melody. After he catches his breath, Kuroo leans forward and starts placing soft kisses against your shoulder blades. You turn and look to see you had not only smashed a bunch of random keys in the email but you also accidentally sent the email to Kuroo's boss.

    "Oops." You sheepishly said and Kuroo turned to look at his laptop.

His eyes widened and he quickly went to go and try and fix the accidental mistake.

    "Shit. He's going to be so confused," Kuroo mumbled before he gave your ass a light spank. "Get on your knees and clean me up while I fix your little mistake." Kuroo teased.

©ᴅᴇʟᴜʟᴜ4ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2024 ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

ᴅᴀɪʟʏ ᴄʟɪᴄᴋꜱ

ᴘᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ɢʀᴀᴠᴇ

[marchofmistria]

Hello! I love your headcanons and writing a lot! Thanks for the food

If possible, I'll like to request some headcanons for Balor and a reader that has a pretty obvious crush on him.

Thanks in advance! <3

Hey there, thank you for sending! :)

Balor is not unaccustomed to flirting. He's a handsome man, well-traveled, and a purveyor of expensive goods. He's met many people, so to speak.

But something about your particular attention to him really makes him flustered. And that fact alone scares him.

He does a lot of self-analysis to try and understand what about you makes you special to him, and why your flirting makes his heart race. He's met many attractive people in his life, sure, but you're so much more than just another pretty face to him.

From the first moment he met you on your entrance into Mistria, and he held your hand as you jumped over the broken bridge into the small village, he couldn't get you out of his mind.

From his first impression, you were definitely beautiful. As he got to know you more, he saw you as particularly clever and helpful with his business. You understood him and his line of work.

He's not sure, maybe it has to do with the fact that he's grown surprisingly attached to this village. But he suspects you play no small role in that feeling.

He can tell you like him too. Each day, you make a point to stop by his cart and chat with him. At first, it's mostly about business. But as time passes, you make an effort to learn more about the mysterious merchant and remember each detail of each story he tells you.

He really starts to feel your affections towards him each time you take effort to bring him a beautiful gem or rare archeological find. At first he thanks you, saying it'll be a good sell in the Capital.

But then you emphasize that it's for him, not to be sold. You know that, aside from his work, he truly appreciates the beauty and rarity of such things. He's touched by the thought you put into it.

Even more so when you remember his brief mention of his favorite food, curry, and make an effort to bring it to him as often as possible.

He knew that he loved you on the day you invited him over to the farm for dinner. You told him that you and Reina had worked together on a new curry recipe, and hoped that he liked it.

While you may have tried to brush off any hints suggesting that this was made for him, claiming that you and Reina were simply practicing cooking, he could tell that you didn't offer this meal to him thoughtlessly.

It's the most delicious and comforting thing he'd remembered having since his childhood. Comforting food like this was hard to come by when you lived your life on the road.

Charming and charismatic as he is, he finds it truly difficult to express in words what this gesture meant to him. Really, what all of these thoughtful and kind gestures mean to him.

He begins to associate you with the feeling of home. He hasn't known that feeling in a while.

He goes to great lengths to try and repay you for your kindness. He knows that he's already gained your affection and doesn't need to try to win you over, but he wants to give you even a small piece of the feeling you've given him.

He first brings you rare and expensive gifts he comes into possession of over the course of his travels outside of Mistria. Some of these things, you know well, he could have easily sold for a pretty penny in the Capital. But he chooses to give them to you.

As he gets to know you more, he moves away from gifts he knows would be liked by anyone to gifts specific to your interests and tastes.

He knows how carefully you listen to all his stories, and makes great effort to do the same for you. He even goes so far as to keep notes of the things you've mentioned you liked. He'll bring them for you any chance he gets.

His favorite thing in the world is spending late nights with you at the Inn, swapping stories and laughs well into the night. He feels like he can talk to you forever, and it feels wonderful to have a caring someone to share his thoughts and feelings with.

Another thing he needs to get used to is the trouble he has flirting with you at first. Although you unabashedly like Balor and don't try to hide it, Balor has to fight through some embarrassment to show his feelings back. Something he's not used to.

This is a shock to a man whose whole life was spent charming everyone he meets. He's never been a stranger to grand displays of affection, but with you he takes a different approach. With you, he wants to cultivate intimacy.

He gets shy when you clearly indicate how much you like him, but always wants you to know that the feeling is mutual and he wants your relationship to progress further.

Because of this, it doesn't take long at all for you two to become an official couple. Even long into your relationship, when Balor has vowed to make Mistria (and you specifically) his permanent home, he never stops making sure you feel loved by him. He tells you and shows you every single day.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Hi!

I have a request for FellSwap Gold bros, UnderSwap bros, and Underfell Bros x SUPER shy reader!!

Reader having really bad social anxiety, has a hard time speaking up and is just super quiet, and just generally nervous all the time due to past trauma.

How do you think the skeletons would act towards an S/O being so shy??

Featuring: Sky, Honey, Red, Edge, Wine and Coffee.

Masterlist

Sky

You remind him of his brother a bit.. not completely since you two have a lot of differences yet it's probably the shy personality.

He has no problem with you being shy! He just wished you'd talk more when you two go out.. oh wait yeah you're socially anxious.

Sky does his best to keep you relaxed, he hates seeing people he loves nervous or anxious, he just hopes the methods he uses with his brother work with you too..

If you ever want to talk about your traumas with him, he'll feel honored, people only do this kind of thing when they trust each other, and to know you trust him enough to talk about traumatic things that have affected you in the past.. it makes him feel like he's one of the most important persons to you.

Please tell him if anything is bothering you, he doesn't want to see you uncomfortable nor panicked.

Honey

"Welcome to the club sweetheart.."

Honey also has a hard type speaking up, more with strangers than with people he's friends with, and his anxiety doesn't help much.

So, why not help each other out?

He's not the best, yet he's always there to listen to you if you'd like, and he'd be very happy if you'd hear him too.

At the end of the day, the books he writes are a distraction- an escape from reality he found to both make money and to do something he enjoys, so maybe you can find something to distract you too?

Your shyness doesn't bother him, if anything it's something he knows is a part of you, and he's always by your side when he can.

Red

Oh well, guess you two aren't really leaving the house..

Red doesn't really like leaving his house, so if he isn't working he's most definitely chilling on the couch.

He's not the best at giving advice, damn, the last time he gave someone advice that person tried to poison him, yet he'll be happy to listen to you if you're ever comfortable enough to do it.

Your shyness and quietness doesn't bother him in the least, it feels kinda good to just.. rant to you about work while cuddling y'know?

"Ya may not even realize, yet cha' make me the happiest skeleton in all earth sweetheart."

Edge

He's the literal opposite of you.

Edge has a talk with you, asking if you would like to have some therapy sessions, and if you agree he's already paying for it.

Tries to convince you to leave the house when he's not working and the weather is good, he doesn't force you but he'd be happy when you successfully socialize with someone, even just a little bit.

Stands up for you, no matter the situation. He's pretty famous because of his cooking you know? Who's gonna turn him down huh? One word and a security guard will take that person away.

He isn't someone to give advice about trauma, if anything he'd much rather hear you trauma-dump, that way he can find the best way to try and help.

Wine

His brother's just like you. He already knows what to do.

Won't force you to leave the house if you don't want to, yet he'll "reward" you with small things when you do, buying ice cream, plushies you want, books or video games if you like them.. you get the deal.

Something he noticed was wherever you go, his brother follows, guess Coffee finally found someone like him huh?

If someone even dares to be slightly rude towards you, Wine makes sure that person won't ever bother you again.

Anything you tell him, he'll give advice, no matter what it is.

Coffee

He's EXACTLY like you.

Coffee has a really bad social anxiety and has a hard time feeling comfortable to talk, so he mostly communicates by notes!

May influence you to do the same as him...

Doesn't bother him that you're quiet, quite the opposite actually, after hearing Rus and Cash ramble for HOURS on the swap papyruses reunion, he couldn't beg more for some silent cuddles with his loved one.

If you ever want to talk about your traumas with him, he's going to listen, even if he doesn't give the best advice.

[beefscrap]

I say “maybe someday” but I get scared someday never will come. So I’ll be brave and speak

“A dream come true” is a phrase I’ve said here before, but that doesn’t even graze the surface. I’ve been writing stories and drawing since I was very young. It’s all I’ve ever done. And for years, one of my biggest wishes was to collect a fanbase for at least one of my stories. Calling my followers a “fanbase” seems really intense, though. I hesitate to call my readers a fanbase because I don’t feel I deserve it. “Fanbase” feels like it’s for someone who made something AMAZING.

I started making TBoFS at the beginning of this year. I’d work on it whenever I got sad, and it turned out to be often. It was just for fun, and something to escape to. Every time I make a story I think to myself ‘I’m sure it’ll pass’, because they usually do. It’s hard for me to finish things in general. So, I thought nothing much would come of it. I never would’ve imagined it’d get as much attention as it does.

No, maybe it’s not a LOT. No way in hell I’d call myself popular, or anything CLOSE. But there are people now who comment, react, interact, theorize, make art, etc for this story. I’ve never felt so special. I never felt like anything I’ve done ended up with any significance. Even if it’s a small amount compared to other online creators, I feel like I have a fanbase. If it’s not considered one, I don’t care. To me it’s one of the biggest, most important things that happened to me. If you couldn’t tell I was dramatic before, you’re finding out now!

I started with low hopes and just made shit for fun. This doesn’t even feel like a very GOOD story half the time because it was so casual at the start. Like, what am I doing to deserve what I have?

I still come to this story and these characters when I’m sad. This year was rough. The people here have helped. And I have a little bit of hope now that someday I can make something totally my own that people will like. That’s always been the dream. But THIS is more than enough.

I’m so lucky to have people who care here. And I thank the people who cared when it was only just beginning, too

I’m not gonna add tags or anything cuz I feel annoying and am a little embarrassed 😭 if you see and read this then hopefully it wasn’t too weird

[19catsncounting]

Hey I think there's something that I have to keep reminding myself and maybe you also need to remind yourself of sometimes and that's that it's actually really hard to Fandom wrong.

Like there's a lot of writers and creators who produce works better than I could. Frankly, I suck at meta. And that's fine! I'm not gonna get called to the Fandom Principal's Office to be told that I'm failing in Fandom and need to get my grades up or I'll lose my spot on the posting team. I can commit to the most wildly OOC portrayal of a character and people will just not like it and that's!!! Okay!!!

No one is getting paid for this! You can't get fired! It's nice to find like-minded individuals but you don't have to change your mind for the sole purpose of finding community!

We are playing in sandboxes and it is Normal and Good to play in your corner and see other people playing differently in theirs. You should fight any urge towards conformity in your mind because it is the final sanctuary where you can be free.

And while this is mostly a "Hey feeling insecure about how you participate in Fandom is something you can and should challenge" I do also mean "Hey people who make Fucked Up content and people who make Fixed Wholesome content are not and never should be enemies."

I tend to make things leaning towards Fixing and Found Family but that will never earn me a place in heaven and has no weight to my own morality and does not make me a good person and I would drive any Noncon Torture Sadist Darkfic creator to the airport at 5 AM and bring us both homemade lattes. I have taken so many pieces of great characterization for my domestic hopeful comfort fics from Really Fucking Dark fics because those fics break open characters in new and intense and beautiful lights. The ONLY reason I don't write hurt/no comfort is because that's not the enrichment I'm looking for, it isn't the treatment I need for my personal psychic wounds but it is perfectly! Beautifully! Worthy! As a trope all the same! And it is beneficial for people who are not me!!!

Fiction is morally neutral in every way - no matter what you create, whether it is hopeful or tragic, or beautiful, or mediocre, you are allowed and encouraged to make it.

[the-great-papyru]

(shakes a flowey plushie in front of you as bait) flowey face headcanons please. (continues to shake the plushie hoping you will take the bait)

well, for a flowey plushie…

the mechanics of flowey’s face rely on two things: magic and determination. it’s plant matter, yes, but it’s plant matter modified by the very nature of flowey’s existence. asriel’s dust had some residual magical qualities that were modified for flowey’s form. it’s how he can summon bullets, or manipulate vines, or change his face, or, heck, move.

now, determination is built on will and magic is a form of self-expression. so it’s logically sound that flowey’s face is a reflection of a.) what he wills it to look like, first and foremost, and b.) without will, natural emotion and expression of self.

when flowey woke up, since he didn’t have any particular will, his face drew on his magic rather than determination. and so, it reflected his inner sense of self, and therefore looked like asriel’s. exactly like it, in fact. a monster’s body is linked to their external sense of self, it’s a combination of magic and dust that manifests as what appears to be a physical form. that sense of self doesn’t shift after flowey’s death. not yet, at least. it’s why asgore recognized him so easily. only someone who knows asriel, is asriel perfectly could look so exactly like him.

when flowey decided it was better to start hiding his identity, he actively modified it. at first, he probably just willed his face into something simpler, that people wouldn’t recognize immediately. he had to decide on a candidate to mimic. he chose chara. it wasn’t obviously them, of course, but when it came to guidance he looked at their face for reference.

just a basic structure wasn’t enough, though. he still thought of himself as asriel, back then, and maintaining a fluid face while also keeping a false image up? it didn’t really work the best. so he settled on a handful of “sprites” that he could use interchangeably. picking and choosing the most memorable of chara’s faces and putting them on himself as the occasion demanded.

it got easier.

later on, flowey needed those faces. not really for hiding his identity any longer (that had become incredibly easy now, nearly second nature) but for keeping a poker face. a single slip-up, after all, and someone good at face reading could take a lot from it. that couldn’t happen. so he drilled the faces into his muscle memory until he could swap them out just like that.

he only really planned on having one scary face, but two couldn’t hurt! he practiced the second a lot more. it didn’t involve actually enlarging his face through magic (he’d run out of space), so it was easier. he perfected it so much, (changing the eyes was an act of genius on his part, he thought) that it became his “extra” face. a way of covering up any undesired emotion. feeling creepy? scary face. about to laugh at a joke? scary face. terrified for your life? scary face.

still with me? great!

the actual physical form of the face, however, is originally a lot like that of an ordinary flower. fairly hard to the touch, a little bit sticky. this is largely due to preservation on flowey’s part, since he sticks with a handful of pre-designed faces, there’s not a lot of natural movement there, and it doesn’t change shape at all.

see, there aren’t very many plants with naturally white centers. and in fact, if you look at any other golden flower… the centers don’t look white.

now, if you look at the amalgamates, their overworld sprites are entirely white. flowey’s face essentially functions like hardened amalgamate goo. he can shift it into various positions through a combination of will (determination) and magic (self-expression).

i mentioned before that it’s not malleable because he sticks with pre-made expressions. so, if you were to touch it, it would feel like the center of a daisy, or something similar, just maybe a bit more sticky.

this is considering, of course, that flowey sticks with the pre-planned expressions. the more shifting based on magic and genuine expressions, the more naturally malleable it could get. not necessarily super stretchy, and it would tend to stick together rather than form into strands, but it could end up slightly more flexible than a human face.

…okay, on that note, i think that wraps it up. clearly i think an unhealthy amount about the schematics of this fictional flower’s facial functions.

[alexanderwales]

Save the Cat!: the short review

I liveblogged this book (anything tagged #save the cat on this blog), but this is the actual review of it.

Save the Cat! by Blake Snyder is a book about screenwriting, and it's very specifically about screenwriting spec scripts in order to get huge sales for movies. Blake Snyder worked mostly with family films, PG affairs, and sold a pretty large number of scripts, most of them by sticking to a formula. He knew a lot of people in the business, and his ethos seems like it was their ethos (though I should probably read a few other books for comparison before making any sweeping generalizations).

Blake Snyder is a hack screenwriter, but he's a hack's hack, and aside from a few completely unwarranted barbs at films which were more commercially successful and societally important than anything he would ever end up doing with his life (he died in 2009), he seems to understand who and what he was. He's writing screenplays to sell those screenplays for the highest possible dollar amount. He calls his screenplays "product". He cares about good story only in the sense that he wants whatever producer or actor is reading the script to think that it's hot shit.

Some of this is probably an act, Snyder playing up some version of himself like a good writer would. He contradicts himself at certain points, and reveals that he doesn't walk the walk quite so cleanly as the rest of the book would have us believe. He's brash, in a way that I found charming.

He's also irritating, because I fundamentally disagree with this approach to making art, and maybe that would be fine if I could just say "eh, we have very different goals" but he also doesn't seem to understand his own system very well, nor does he seem eager to explore it, and he's constantly just saying stuff without regard to whether or not it's true, or makes sense. I get the feeling that the book was written in a bit of a rush, something to work on while beating out scripts, rather than being a labor of careful love. That it took off was either his marketing talents or just that its paint-by-numbers specifics are really appealing. There are pieces that I would have pegged as being written by GPT if the book didn't predate LLMs by a wide margin, especially some examples that make no damned sense and his rambling-but-formulaic way of imparting lessons.

A lot of the examples are also kind of eye-rolling, but I cut him a little slack, because it's hard to write about writing, and giving examples of tricks you use is one of the hardest parts. You kind of need the reader to have read/seen the thing in its entirety, because if you give the brief version, with no investment or background, it just seems lame. Some of this is also Snyder, who worked mostly in 90s PG family movies: those examples are always going to be a bit cringe.

This book is the #1 book in Amazon for screenwriting, and so far as I can tell, has been the top book for screenwriting since it came out twenty years ago. It's a bestseller. As a writer, I think it's kind of crap, both because it pushes formula and because I think that it's not likely to result in very good scripts. I think you can tell a good story using this formula, but once you've mastered the formula and understand how all the pieces are supposed to move together along with the principles of storytelling, you won't need the formula. The book also does a bad job on principles of storytelling, at least in my opinion, dancing around them rather than laying them out in a clear and concise way, and especially in the middle it's poorly structured, which is somewhat ironic given how much Snyder seems to lean on structure.

I have never written a screenplay, much less sold one. Going into 2024, I told myself that this would be the year to give it a go, and I've been writing a comic, which is much closer to screenwriting than prose fiction. Maybe 2025 is going to be my year to actually sit down and hammer out a screenplay, but I can't say that I expect to take too much from this book.

[a-dragons-explanations]

I'm sorry you're going through this, genuinely. It sounds like you've had a really hard time with all of this, and I can see where the temptation to lash out comes from. I'm sorry you've been struggling with these feelings so much - it can be a lot to deal with, I'm well familiar with that.

I'd like to try to help, so I'm going to go ahead and try - please, if you don't want the help and feel like I'm overstepping, feel free to ignore the rest of the post. I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything, I just want to offer some guiding questions and a little analysis in case it would help you, because sometimes an outside perspective can really help unravel these things.

So:

I'm not going to tell you that you are otherkin - that's something only you can decide - but I can say that what you're describing very, very much aligns with what many, many nonhumans experience, so I've seen a lot of people work through these feelings. I'm not surprised that the otherkin community has become a bit of a mirror for you, even if it's one that feels threatening. As they say, after all, wanting to be nonhuman is one of the most telltale signs of being nonhuman.

I guess the core question, if you want to finally hash out your feelings on this one way or another, is: why are you so afraid of calling yourself a fox? Or at least, why are you so determined that that can't be the case? And whatever the answer to that question is: is that really, when you dig into it, a solid reason, or are you just flinching from something that feels scary but isn't a real threat?

The best guess I have, to facilitate that outside-perspective analysis, is pulling from this quote -

"being told to accept myself hurts, because it implies that there is something to accept; or a prospect of getting closer to the concept of being something else. yet i can’t FIND it. i would jump at the first glimpse of that opportunity, as i have been trying to, but i can’t understand it."

I may be wrong here - I have a very limited view of what's going on inside your head, after all, and if I'm misunderstanding you please correct me - but it sounds to me like what's stalling you out is either a) the internalized feeling that this can't be real, that these feelings aren't "enough" to make you really nonhuman, and/or b) that you're afraid that since you'll never be able to be physically nonhuman, identifying yourself that way is just going to hurt you more.

Both of those are completely reasonable fears, and ones many, many people have faced before you. Again - it's a weird thing, and for years I was dealing with the "this is crazy, this can't be real" doubt periodically.

One answer to this would be to try to walk away and ignore it. Admittedly that's an answer that doesn't work well for a lot of people, but it is an option. But it seems like you've tried that, and you keep finding yourself coming back. It sounds like you have some very strong conflicting feelings about this - and maybe like you've determined (for whatever reason) that you can't be nonhuman, even though you want to be, so your brain is (consciously or unconsciously) doing the "if I can't have it, no one can" move and lashing out at people who are embodying a thing you want but feel like you can't have.

That's a very normal instinct. It's - maybe a little ironically - the Fox & Grapes fable, right? If you want something and can't have it, it's often easiest to decide it was never really desirable (or possible) in the first place, so that the loss doesn't hurt as much. But then there are people right there who are having it, proving that it is possible and desirable and preventing you from cutting yourself off from the loss - so your brain perceives them as a threat, a source of pain, and wants to lash out.

But the pain isn't coming from the people who are living their lives, and it's not fair to lash out at them. You know that already, I can tell from the way you're talking about this at this point. Whatever the right answer is for you, whether you're nonhuman or not - if it is wrong for you, then just because it's wrong for you doesn't make it wrong for everyone.

This verges into questioning advice at this point, but if I may go that far, because I really do think that this lashing-out seems to be stemming from your own confusion and pain regarding your own wanting-to-be-an-animal feelings: I won't tell you to "accept yourself," because you've already determined that's not helpful advice for you, and that's completely fair. Instead, I'll offer a question that might be a more useful framework to look at this through: regardless of whether you are currently a fox or not, would you be happier calling yourself a fox, viewing yourself as a fox, living life influenced by and embracing foxness?

Don't knee-jerk react - pause and imagine it. Say the words out loud to yourself. Think about how you feel when people call you a fox, how it feels to look at a picture of a fox and go "that's me".

And, if the answer is that yes, it's an overall happy imagining - is that not a good enough reason to do it? It's a good enough reason for plenty of us. It's a good enough reason for me. If it's a happy imagining, I'd personally encourage you to let yourself chase that happiness. If it ends up not fitting right, you can always discard it later.

And to address that second potential fear - yes, sometimes it does hurt that we can't physically become what we long to be. It does. But, as gently as I can say this, it sounds like that's already hurting you, despite your efforts to push those feelings down. It doesn't seem to me like you're succeeding in getting away from it. It's a very natural instinct, but that doesn't mean it works, especially long-term. And, much like gender dysphoria, the answer to soothing species dysphoria is often doing things to make you feel closer to what you want to be, rather than trying to push it away and insist to yourself that you can never have it.

All of this, of course, is just my thoughts as an outside perspective - an obviously somewhat biased perspective, for that matter, given that I happen to be nonhuman myself. Ultimately, to come full circle here, I don't know your experiences as well as you do - you're the only one who can ultimately decide what to do with those experiences and what framework to parse them through. I'm not trying to push you to start identifying as otherkin here, I promise; I'm just trying to offer a way of looking at it that you might not have considered, and some compassion in the face of the agonies.

And... be gentle with yourself. You've lashed out and likely hurt people, and that was wrong of you, yes. You clearly understand that. I hope you'll think twice before doing it again in the future. But you're also hurting yourself, and as you say, you've been trying to get people to snap back at you - I don't know if you realize this, but this is a form of self-harm you've been doing. You don't need to punish yourself for the feelings you're having. Be gentle with yourself. You deserve that much.

i don’t think my words hold much value to people like you, and i don’t think you would be willing to listen or take it to heart, but it’s still worth trying. i would like you to realise that you are human in every way. you are not an animal, you are not a dragon. (you probably already know this. maybe you’re in denial. i don’t know) either way, none of you would actually be willing to give it even a second of thought because you’re insecure about yourself, and you’re insecure because you know you’re human. i assure you that you will not reach full personal contentment until you live out your life without pretending to be a mythical creature. wtv have a good day

Ooh, I haven’t gotten one of these asks in a few years.

So I ask this, and every other question I will follow up with, completely genuinely, and if you’re willing to really get into the weeds discussing it I’d love to do so (though I’ll probably reblog any follow-ups to my other blog): why do you think you know me and my experiences better than I do?

Why do you think you can armchair diagnose me with insecurity? What evidence do you actually have for that, besides the fact that I’m nonhuman? What evidence do you have that I’m not already content and fulfilled in my life?

Is it possible that identifying as nonhuman is unrelated to those things entirely, and you’re making a false assumption?

I get it. It looks crazy, when you’re completely new to the concept. It’s weird - it is! But pause and listen to us when we talk about our experiences for a moment.

For many of us, myself included, finding nonhumanity is a moment of suddenly understanding - of pieces falling into place, of my life experiences suddenly making sense. Awakening is something that made me more content and fulfilled, not less - there’s a sadness in it sometimes, yes, but so too is there the comfort of understanding yourself in a new way, of realizing, oh. I’m not just weird. There’s not something wrong with me. There are other people like me.

(If this sounds a lot like the experience of figuring out you’re queer, there’s a reason for that.)

To use myself as an example of the flaws in your hypothesis: there’s… honestly not much dissatisfaction with my life right now. I’ve got a stable job with decent income. I’d like to be able to cut back my hours a bit, but that will come in time. I’ve got enough free time as it is to do my art and play my tabletop games with friends in my off time. I’ve got family and friends around me. Sure, I miss my wings, but I’m hoping to pick up powered paragliding in the near future and hoping that’ll scratch that itch at least somewhat. I’m doing pretty well, honestly. This isn’t the case for all otherkin, but it’s not the case for all orthohumans (people who aren’t alterhuman in any way) either. What it does indicate, however, is that your hypothesis that being otherkin inherently means you’re insecure and unhappy with your life is false, or at minimum flawed - if it were true, I wouldn’t exist.

So, I ask again: why do you think you understand my own experiences better than I do? And moreover, why does it bother you so much that I am the way I am?

The name for the thing you’re doing here, intentionally or not, is concern trolling - trying to push me out of an identity by professing concern for problems that don’t exist. Why? Why are you going out of your way to tell other people they’re wrong about their own identity? Why is your reaction, when you see an identity you don’t understand, to decide it’s unhealthy, or just make-believe, or whatever, and then to make that the problem of the people who identify that way? What exactly makes you think this is inherently unhealthy?

Would it not be better to devote that energy to trying to understand us, instead of trying to change us?

You don’t have to answer these questions to me, obviously, but I do encourage you to answer them to yourself at least. Pick apart your worldview for a minute and see if it actually holds up under scrutiny - it’s good for you, and mental enrichment to boot! If you are willing to really get into the weeds of this discussion with me, again, I’d love to do that - I love having discussions like this, and it’s good for me to have my worldview challenged every so often too! Please, genuinely, pick at the flaws in my logic if you see them - if it can be pulled apart under scrutiny, it needs to be pulled apart and rebuilt. No one on the internet is obligated to let a stranger do that, obviously, but personally I enjoy it - it’s a meat pumpkin for me - so let’s talk, if you’re up for it. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve gotten a good interesting antikin to debate with.

[tinyfantasminha]

👍

[edge-oftheworld]

one thing I love about following celebrities/artists who are honest and proactive about their mental health struggles etc is I can’t count the number of times someone I know is going through something and I’m like ‘I’ve got a song for u’ and how much of my life involves telling myself ‘if [redacted] can do something/get better/etc then so can i’ (and having actual real evidence of it in front of me) and I can’t understate how much I appreciate these things.

but at the same time it involves a whole lot of watching people I care about suffer and you learn to read the signs and infer between the lines in songs and interviews, and yes we can never fully know what they don’t share with us, but when they do share things it’s not a big stretch to be like ‘this seems like it’s what life is like for you and I have taken encouragement from it but you deserve so much better’. and it’s easy to find ways to get angry at a predatory industry and realise things that could be hurtful if you’re already fragile.

and we can advocate for some things and help ourselves and the people around us feel better but it’s hard to meaningfully reach your faves as an individual. and there are things we can’t say on the internet in too much detail, speculation becomes the harmful kind of gossip, and so sometimes it’s a whole lot of internally saying ‘you’re doing incredibly well to have gotten to where you are but I wish for your sake things would get better faster’

[arcticmist0324]

One thing that is difficult about writing historical fiction is when you’ve set your story up in the same time frame as major historical events, which you KNOW would be on your characters’ radar yet they don’t impact the plot. What is too much? What is too little?

[amplexadversary]

Ashton Greymoore: “See, this is what happens when you start externalizing every fucking problem that you have. Easy to take a look at.

There’s a bunch of people who are treating other people like, just like they’re fucking nothing, like they’re fucking pawns. It doesn’t matter what the fuck they want - they are doing it wrong, it is not hard to see.

You’re being fucked with. We’re all being fucked with; whatever the fuck they say they’re doing, that’s where I draw the g-, the line. If they had such a great idea of what the world was supposed to be and what that thing was, they could just tell people.

But instead they’re making everybody miserable. They’re killing people.

Fuck that, fuck them, and I am going to be more than happy to drop a fucking ship on them.

I’m so sick of this shit.”

-Critical Role, Campaign 3, Episode 49 1:43:02

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Do you ever read a post where someone is explaining a pokitical thing and from the way they're saying you know with absolute certainty 1) they got their info from a tumblr post and have never actually followed up on how feasible that information actually is to act upon (they may not even have checked if it was CORRECT, but when they do they have clearly not looked into how easy or hard it may be to follow those instructions with a positive outcome), and 2) you know WHICH tumblr post they're quoting because it is basically a copy/paste of it, and 3) it was YOUR goddamn post and the thing they are saying is entirely counter to the point you were making when you said it to the point that you genuinely wonder if they just like. Memory-holed the entire context once they saw that one itty bitty point.

It's like the motherfuckiny dating apps all over again. I do not want people to love my words if they are not actually willing to do the work of understanding them! Didn't your kindergarten ever make you play Telephone to teach you how heresay falls out????

[jutsuuu]

girl help I’m experiencing